Gray (Awakening Book 1) (7 page)

He didn’t respond, but laid his thumbs on the bones under my eyes, his fingers fanned out over the sides of my head. I knew that the tattoo on his forehead was a mark of his power, so it would be okay. His spear of Odin showed all around us that he was of the house of Gungnir, one of Odin’s special soldiers, the most respected guy. There was no doubt I was safe with him.

I tried to sit still while he did his work like my sister had always told me I needed to do. It was hard though. It got even harder to sit still when my head and face didn’t hurt at all anymore. My mouth fell open, because a huge, purple bruise appeared on the side of Dorian’s face, right where Gerik had hit me.

He muttered something under his breath and all of a sudden, that bruise disappeared.

“How’d you do that?” I asked breathlessly, my eyes wide with wonderment.

“Water holds the ability to heal some wounds, if you know the way to ask its help.”

“But the Black elves can only talk to the stones and that’s after their awakening.”

He nodded. “I am not only a Black elf. I have the ability to speak with air, water and stones alike.”

I sat forward, my eyes wide. “Can you teach me how to make the water and air my friend too, just like the stones are now?”

“I will teach you, but not now, Gray One. You must be cautious with your use of magic in front of Gerik. He is afraid of the magic you and I hold. I may not be able to help you the next time he attacks you.” He walked over to a shelf and took down a book. “We will train your mind and your body, then we will work on your magic when I know you have the ability to control your use of it,” he said and brought the book to me, then turned to walk away.

“Will you stay?” I asked, for fear still bubbled in my chest,fear tha
t 
Gerik would come for me again.

“I will remain with you as long as you need me, Gray One, until the ends of the earth.”

I sighed in relief and opened the book. I didn’t know why I had the same kind of magic he had, a different kind than Gerik and the Black Queen held. It didn’t matter right then, so I began to read aloud. I felt warm and happy that he was there, entirely at peace.

Air. I needed air. I needed to move the stones. I needed to be free. Please, please let me be free.

I gasped for the air which just wouldn’t come. When my eyes finally opened, it hit me. I wasn’t in the caves, but in a crowded classroom with people all around who stared at me and whispered to their neighbors. Oh. It hadn’t been real. It had only been a dream.

I gasped again and touchedthe place on my cheek wher
e
Gerik had hit me. Could any of that have been real? Could it have been a memory of where I had been for eight years?

I grimaced. Delusions. That was all they were. It couldn’t be anything else. No way.

I jerked in shock as a hand touched my arm. It was a soft, slender hand which gave me a feeling as though nothing other than that hand mattered in the world.

“Come with me, Shayla. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office,” a voice which was like music said and the hand guided me up.

I had no energy to refuse. I just followed along with her, my head foggy, my mind more confused than it had yet been.

The things I had seen in those weird dreams made no sense . . . so why did all of it click like it was the absolute truth? Why did everything from the elf named Dorian, to the magic which had made my wounds pass into his body, to the ability to speak with stones feel true? Why did I feel like there was magic still inside me?

“Are you alright?”

I blinked, shocked to see the ethereal blonde next to me, her sea green eyes fixed on me. Who was she? Why did it feel like I knew her? “I’m fine,” I said and turned my eyes away from her. “Thanks for your help, but I don’t need to go to the nurse’s office.”

“Yes, you do,” she said with a smile. “It’s my first day on the job. If I don’t get you where I was told to get you, I’m in for it.” She crossed her fingers and gave me a pleading look. “Please help me keep my job?”

I chuckled and shrugged. She didn’t act as haughty and London-like as I had expected her to. She acted like we were equals, maybe even friends.

She smiled and held out her hand between us. “I’m Ayanna by the way.”

“Shayla,” I said and shook her hand. “If I show up at the nurse’s office, they’re going to call my sister and she’s going to freak out, make me appointments for five specialists and two shrinks.”

Ayanna chuckled. “Just tell the nurse you have a headache.” She stopped next to the nurse’s office door to wave at the woman behind the desk. “I had a panic attack once, but mine was in the middle of Time Square in New York City. At least you only had eighteen people there to see yours.” She patted my arm and began to walk back to class.

“Ayanna?”

She turned back to look at me.

“Thanks,” I said with a genuine smile at her.

She lifted her hand in a beauty pageant wave, then walked off.

It was nice to see the friendly, compassionate look on the nurse’s face, the way she appeared genuinely concerned about me. She gave me some aspirin and let me lay down with an icepack on my head. I wasn’t sure what to do about those dream things. Maybe if I wrote them down, then read them over again, they might make more sense.

Obviously there was no magic and no ‘Black elves’ were involved in my disappearance. I just had to figure out what they represented in my psyche. I did not hear the air call to me. Nope. That would be crazy. I was a normal human girl.

I slammed the door behind myself as Kassia dropped me off. Frustration was a mild word for how I felt. Irritated didn’t quite cover it. Hurt was far closer to the mark.

My stomach fluttered nervously as she drove away and I was left alone on the property which had been my home eight years before. I looked around and tears rose in my eyes. The land was open, looking out onto the mountains in the distance, something which made me feel equally at home and nervous.

I took a step toward one of the fences, my body and mind fully at rest at the sight of the horses which had been my mom and dad’s. I’d had no idea they were even still around. Kassia hadn’t bothered to tell me until that morning that they were being boarded at the Connelly’s, hence the massive argument, the reason I was there alone.

I stared out at them for a while. My mind showed me images of Mom and Dad. I missed them so much it was a physical pain inside me.

“Shayla?”

It startled me a little to find Ben’s mom walking toward me, the same compassionate look on her face which had been there on the night I had come back. It shouldn’t have surprised me in the least to see her, since it was her property. I hadn’t expected to see anyone though, so the sight of her was an odd comfort.

I took a step toward her, my hand held out between us. “Mrs. Connelly, I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I am that I scared you the night I came home.”

She stopped in front of me, then in a move which almost made me cry, she pulled me in for a hug. “Shayla, I’ve never met a sweeter burglar,” she said and pulled me back to look hard at me. “I’ve seen your sister around town once or twice since you got back and I have to say, I’ve never seen her looking so happy.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that kind of comment since Kassia was on my smack-list, but hey. “She’s not very happy to have a little sister today.” I looked away from her and walked to the fence, my arms on the rail.

She walked over and stood next to me, her eyes fixed on the mountains in the distance. “I’d say you’re wrong about that, Shayla. To be alone in the world is the worst feeling imaginable.”

Wow. The sorrow in her voice made it clear she knew just what that felt like. I wanted to ask, but if she wanted to talk about it, she would.

I looked out at the horses, then let out a low whistle which graduated up to a high pitch in the middle and went low at the end. Sif turned her head and trotted to the fence. Tears rose in my eyes as I ran my hand down her black muzzle which ended in her red-brown nose. She made me feel as though home had not gone up in a puff of smoke. Some small portion of home remained, right here with my mom’s mare.

“
Næmnæe, vænn
Sif.” A few tears spilled over as the horse snorted and bobbed her head happily, almost like she understood the compliment, ‘Hello, beautiful Sif.’

Mrs. Connelly put her arm around my shoulders as I continued to cry, but she didn’t speak.

After a minute, I brought my lips together again to let out another whistle. This one started out high, went low in the middle, then graduated up at the same high pitch. Yet more tears came to me as Thor raised his head and trotted toward me. He was a masterful horse, his big, black body with a single red-brown streak on his neck always having made me laugh when I was little, like Thor had gotten dirty.

“I . . . I used to rub mud on my neck in the same spot.” I was practically bawling by that point.

“They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” Mrs. Connelly gave me a sweet smile. “I’m sure Thor appreciated it.”

I let out a watery chuckle and shook my head when Thor turned away as though to show me precisely what he had thought of those flatteries so many years ago. He trotted back to where he had been before. Sif stayed as close to me as she could get, pressed against the fence as though she may truly remember me. I wasn’t sure if she did, but it was such a nice idea, it hardly mattered if it was true.

“Would you mind if I rode with you?” Mrs. Connelly asked, her arm still around my shoulders as though she understood I may fall apart if she let go of me yet.

I sniffed and nodded. Even the idea of being alone in the moment was more painful than I had the strength to handle. “I would love to,” I said with a chuckle as Sif leaned her head into me and sniffed loudly. It was like she tried to find out where I’d been for so long.

It took a few minutes to get Sif saddled, so by the time I mounted, my tear ducts had been gotten under control. It made me feel as though some part of my mom was still alive and that feeling made everything so much better.

“
Koma,
Sif,” I said, relieved as the horse recalled Mom’s commands and did indeed come about.

“Is that German?” Mrs. Connelly moved her horse up next to me, her dark eyes fixed on me so much like her son’s occasionally were in school.

I shook my head and patted Sif’s neck as we rode on. “It’s Norse. Mom told me that the Norse became Scandinavians after Christianity came through,” I said with a smirk. “Apparently my ancestors were some of the pillaging Vikings. I like to keep those traditions alive by depriving my sister of anything she doesn’t tie down.”

Mrs. Connelly gave me a small smile. “It’s impressive that your mom was well versed in her genealogy enough to learn the language her ancestors spoke. My son has no interest in learning anything about his Shawnee blood.” She shook her head but there was no rancor in her statement, simply an observation of a fact about her son.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to discuss Ben or anything to do with him. I certainly wasn’t his biggest fan and his mother probably thought he hung the moon.

“Do you know anything about your dad’s family? Vincent is Irish, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “It is. Dad never talked about his family’s history though.” Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I should have looked for such information. Why hadn’t I taken the opportunity to go through Gran’s records since we lived in her house? Why didn’t I remember any stories about Dad’s family? Had he never mentioned anything at all, or had I forgotten?

I wracked my brain for any small memory, but nothing came to me in the least. I didn’t remember any mention of family. The few things Dad had told me about his own childhood when I was a little kid had been vague in the extreme. It was like he couldn’t have cared less about family.

I turned my attention back to Mrs. Connelly and gave her a questioning smile. “You’re pure Shawnee, aren’t you?” I asked, in hopes she would talk just to fill the void in my mind.

“I am.” She looked around the land where we rode, her eyes filled by pride. “My people have lived in this area for centuries. One of my great grandfathers was the chief who tried to negotiate for peace with the British during the French and Indian War.”

I smiled. “It doesn’t surprise me in the least you’re descended of a peacemaker.”

Mrs. Connelly sighed out a weary breath. “You wouldn’t have said that if you’d known my Ben over the past few years. You’d have thought we were nothing but a bunch of bloodthirsty savages.”

I coughed out a small laugh, sure that must be a joke since Ben appeared to be spineless from my observations of him. “That is the last thing I would have expected to hear.”

Mrs. Connelly shook her head wearily. “It wasn’t entirely his fault, but the school didn’t see it that way. He’s on thin ice with them. One more fight and they say he’s done, but I can see the warrior still in there sometimes. He hates walking away from fights, but there isn’t much choice for him at this point. He’s got his dad’s temperament,” she said, her face turned down as her eyes went misty. “When my husband and daughter were killed, Ben and I just—” she began, but broke off. She swallowed as though to clear a lump from her throat. “I’m sorry, Shayla. I don’t mean to burden you with my own pain.” She turned her eyes back to regard the mountains, a sorrowful smile on her lips. “O Great Spirit of our Ancestors, I raise my pipe to you. To your messengers the four winds, and to Mother Earth who provides for your children,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

But the words were so familiar, I couldn’t help but finish that prayer of peace. “Give us the wisdom to teach our children to love, to respect, and to be kind to each other so that they may grow with peace in mind. Let us learn to share all the good things you provide for us on this Earth.”

Mrs. Connelly turned to look at me. “You surprise me, Shayla,” she said, but there was so much sorrow in her eyes, I wanted to weep.

“I wish I knew where I learned it,” I said, though in the moment, it didn’t matter that much to me. I rode my mom’s horse, with a woman who was as sweet and compassionate as my mom had been. It was the most peaceful I had felt since my return.

Guilt washed its way over me at the memory of my reaction to Ben. He truly did know all about loss. Likely, he had only wanted to help, but I had treated him like he was Paul. Looked like I owed him an apology.

As though she was determined to ruin everything she could for me that day, I saw Kassia’s car coming up the driveway. I had no desire to deal with my anger with my sister. All I wanted was to coax Sif into her smooth run and ride up into the mountains. The problem was, even though she wasn’t the cheerful sister I remembered, she was the only family left to me.

I waved at Mrs. Connelly as we drove away, feeling closer with her than with anybody else. I wished . . . but no. I had to deal with what was left in my own life and Kassia was it.

We didn’t speak on the drive home, the silence an uncomfortable thing. Seeing Sif and Thor had made me feel so much less alone. If she’d told me they were there, I couldn’t even imagine how much easier things would have been for me.

I walked away from her when we got home and turned my mind away from her as well. I wasn’t sure if she would be able to answer my questions about Dad’s family or not, but wasn’t about to ask. I just didn’t want to see her for the moment.

Gran’s house had been around for more than a century and so far as I knew, a Vincent had lived in it since it was built. That was only an impression though. No one had ever said it outright.

If there were records, it would either be in the office or in the workshop. The office seemed like the best bet, so that was where I headed.

A lump rose in my throat as I stepped in. It was heartwarming to remember how Gran had sat behind the ornate old desk, her dark eyes crinkled in a smile as she saw me. She had always made me feel as though I was the most important person in the world, like anything she did could only be made better if I was there by her side.

I sat down in her chair and leaned back like Gran did when she saw me. A smile came to my lips as I ran my fingers over the wolf which had been carved so intricately into the side of the desk next to a carving of an eagle. Each one touched the edges of a spear of Odin, the three symbols entwined together.

Those three symbols had always fascinated me when I was little. As I looked at them in the moment, dread filled me. That spear of Odin . . . I had seen it somewhere else, somewhere . . . important. My vision went out of focus for a moment and I saw a tattoo on the back of my hand. It was a Norse runic letter, of a square on its point with an X over its top. I was of the house of Gungnir. How had I forgotten? I blinked, startled to see it there . . . but it wasn’t. The back of my hand was the same pale color it always was. No mark at all.

I shook my head as the image of a guy with dark hair and pale skin came into my mind. It was nothing but a dream. I wouldn’t allow myself to live in a dream world. Reality was all that existed.

I nodded as though to convince myself and turned my attention to the desk again. I had never been allowed to poke through the drawers. It had become vitally important to find out every detail. I had to know who my family had been.

I took in a deep breath of air, then opened the bottom drawer. My stomach lurched like I was going to be sick. The drawer was as empty as my heart felt. I opened the next, then the next, but all of them were empty. Was there truly no information on my dad’s family, or had it been hidden from me?

I ransacked the office, though didn’t find even the tiniest shred of information. There were no pictures, none of Dad when he was little, none of Gran and Dad when he was a baby, as though none of it had been real.

I was alone. There was nothing. I was a prisoner of my own lack of knowledge.

Tears filled my eyes, then started to flow down my cheeks like water from a faucet. Who was I? Who was my family? What did the eagle, the wolf and the spear of Odin mean?

All the tears that day made me feel even more hollowed out and raw than I did before. It was like everything had fallen in around me all at once. I couldn’t breathe through the pain.

I should clean up the mess in Gran’s office, but didn’t care in the moment. All I wanted was to be outside, to be free.

I ran outside and stood, my eyes fixed on the trees. The air around me pulsed. The moisture within it called to me. It wanted to help me, to soothe my anxiety.

The moisture in the air condensed into droplets, then began to whirl. It danced for me, like the water wanted nothing more than to bring joy to me.

I stared. It was me. The water had answered my call. I had asked its help and it had answered me happily, like an old friend.