Page 112 of Found in Obscurity

“I want you both to listen to me right now,” Lorin’s grandma said while the other elders seemed to be preparing for a ritual in a silence that felt magical rather than natural. It was so heavy, so opaque. Like they were under a dome made of it and nothing was passing through.

They both turned to look at her, hair pulled tight, black robes billowing behind her and her marks stark against her skin. She looked primal. Wild. Like the witches from human fairy tales. She looked like she was made of power. Kit knew Lorin was worried about her though. She was powerful, but she was also getting older, and all the heavy magic she’d been doing had taken its toll on her.

She looked thinner and more translucent than before. Kit hoped she knew her own limits.

“And don’t give me that look,” she snapped at Kit when she caught him staring. “I’ve been on this earth a lot longer than you have and know perfectly well what I’m capable of.”

“I was just—” Kit started.

“I appreciate the concern,” she said. “But I don’t need it. Now…”

She turned to point at the other elders as they wrapped up their prep work.

It appeared almost grotesque.

The pentagrams drawn didn’t look neat and tidy the way they’d always been when Kit had seen them before. These were filled to the brim with symbols he didn’t understand. Harshand dangerous symbols that emanated power. They overlapped, crossed lines, bled into each other.

And in the middle of them. Bones. Vials of blood. Strands of hair and flesh. Kit didn’t want to know where they had come from. He didn’t think he could stomach the answers.

It reminded him too much of the coven.

“I need you both as far away from this as you can get,” Grandma said, giving them a less than gentle shove.

Kit widened his eyes, heart hammering. He didn’t want to leave her with this. “But…”

“No buts. Magic like this can barely be contained. I don’t want it hitting either of you. It won’t be pretty.”

“What about you all?” Lorin asked exactly what Kit was thinking.

“We’ll be standing between merging spots of the pentagrams. It should be enough to hide us from the fallout while we hold the ritual active long enough to bind their powers for good.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” Lorin said, fear born from love for her and the grief of losing too much already written on his face.

Kit could read it plainly.

Please don’t leave me too.

She reached out and cupped his cheek in her weathered hand. “You found the ritual, Lorin. And I trust you. So no need to dwell on it now, okay? We can argue about it after.”

“Promise,” Lorin choked.

“Lorin,” she sighed.

“Promise you’ll argue with me after. Promise you’ll always be there to argue with me,” he said, voice thready with emotion.

It was an impossible ask, and Kit felt his heart clench for him. He understood though. In the way that if he ever saw his family again, he’d ask them to never leave. To always be there by his side. It was a child’s plea. A heart’s plea.

“Someone needs to be around to tell you how wrong you are,” Grandma said. It wasn’t the promise Lorin was after, but it was the best he was going to get. “Now get.”

“I want to stay and help,” Kit found himself saying, something inside him rebelling against the idea of being away from the fallout. This felt like his battle.

As much as it shook him to his bones to be here, so close to where the worst moments of his life had happened, the fear couldn’t quiet down the need.

The need to do something.

Anything.

“I need to—”