Page 59 of Found in Obscurity

He was sick of being afraid and hesitating. He was a witch, just like his grandma had told him. So he could act like one for the good of his familiar, because not figuring it out was worse. He didn’t want to end up like his father if something happened to Kit. He already cared so much for him. The depth of it was scary to fully examine.

He made his way to the old wooden washtub, happy to see it was as he’d suspected—full of rainwater that had frozen over. Without a naturally flowing stream or lake like the book suggested, this was the next best thing for pure, untouched water, something the book said helped the mind flow freely. It couldn’t be warmed or tampered with, and only the ingredients of the spell could be present.

Which was lovely in the onset of winter.

He broke the surface anyway, turning the ice to chunks before he consulted his book for the ingredients again, his breath puffing in front of his face in clouds. He wasn’t confident by any means, but it was like another person had overtaken him, guiding his hand as he measured out what he needed, praying to the moon above that he was doing it right.

A heavy sprinkling of salt to ward off anything evil that wanted to break through to him while his mind was wandering. Lavender for clarity. Mugwort to enhance dreams and divination and ease the path.

He lit the silver candles next, at the points of a star around the base of the tub, calling down the moon to help his psychism. He could feel the magic building with each added ingredient as he kept his intention at the forefront of his mind, binding it into every action.

The forest had stilled around him to witness.

All that was left was to climb in and say the words.

“I know I should call you, Grandma, so you can tell me I’m a reckless idiot, but you wanted me to try things on my own, so really, this is on you,” he muttered to himself as he disrobed completely as the book said to. “Oh my moon and stars, it’s so fucking cold I’m going to die.”

He hopped from one bare foot to the other, dreading climbing into that ice bath.

He’d come this far though.

He sucked in a swift breath, forcing himself over the side and in in one quick movement. It stole all the air in his lungs immediately as the water came up to his shoulders. He couldn’t even scream, sharp fingers clutching the sides of the wooden tub like they had frozen completely and would snap off.

Shaking, with his eyes closed, he began to mutter the incantation through chattering teeth.

“Water and moon, I beseech you,

Offer my mind clarity.

Water and moon, I beseech you,

Guide me safely along my path.

Water and moon, I beseech you,

I seek, I seek, I seek.”

Stubbornness drove him to take as deep a breath as he could manage through his spasming body before submerging himself fully in the icy depths.

It was like taking a dive in the arctic.

He tried to ignore his body’s fight to pull back out, locking himself in place as his fingers finally left the edges of the tub and slithered in after him.

Focus inward, Lorin.

Clear your mind and find the connection.

It was easy to locate. Lorin often found himself stroking at the bond, like he was testing its strength. He’d lied to himself at first that he was checking to see if it could be broken, when in reality he was holding on to it like a child, hoping it never left now it had settled.

He was so scared of Kit disappearing.

He followed that feeling, that resolve, finding the road in his mind that he had chased Kit down when they first met. He walked along the dirt path with bare feet, searching the trees around him for a sign.

“Where are you, Kit?”

Other paths began to appear in his periphery, tempting him. The pull toward them was strong, and he began to forget just what he was doing.

Maybe if he just went that way…