Page 82 of Twisted Ties

What a crappy place to end up. Here, alone, on this hill, ever tormented by this stupid gale.

I should have buried her in the meadow. Under the trees. With the wild flowers.

I stop by the edge of her grave. The roses are fresh. Only a day or two old. There’s no note with them. I touch them anyway. No magic fingerprints, although perhaps, maybe, the faintest trace of magic.

I sink to my knees and let my hand rest on the earth. It looked like that other grave before. Now there’s grass. Yellow and grizzled, dust curling with the wind.

Maybe that trace of magic is hers. Still lingering. Still here.

The wind rushes past my face and whistles in my ear and I swear it’s like her voice, whispering to me.

“Rhi?” Winnie says. I peer up at her. “Are you okay?”

She’s still clutching her stomach and I wonder if it hurts more than she’s letting on. I should be trying to heal her. I should be getting her home to a doctor. Not insisting shetrails after me on this mad quest. Shame swoops through my body.

“This was a stupid idea. We should go.”

“Don’t you want me to try first? The summoning spell.”

“It’s not going to work.”

Winnie tuts and sinks down to her knees beside me. “What did the locket look like, Rhi?”

“Silver, oval, small, with swirling patterns engraved across its service. I never saw her open it so I don’t know what was inside.”

“Okay,” Winnie says, resting her hand next to mine. “I’m trying really hard to focus on lockets and not dead bodies.” She screws up her nose, then her eyes and I see her lips move as she whispers something silently.

“Anything?” I ask, after a few minutes.

Winnie shakes her head, her eyes still closed. “It could be the distance but I can’t … feel anything. Usually you can sense the lost object even though you don’t know where it is. But this …”

“It must be the earth.” I rock back onto my behind. “Damnit!” This entire trip was a waste of time. I didn’t even get started on searching the house and we don’t have enough time to try other spells in the hope of obtaining my aunt’s locket. We need to get out of here before Renzo Barone tracks us down.

“Are you certain she was buried with it?”

“Absolutely,” I say. “I was there when they closed the lid. I saw them lower her into the ground.” And I stood in the wind, the dust making my eyes stream, as they’d covered her coffin with earth and buried her.

“I really can’t feel it.”

“Never mind,” I say, resting my hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate you trying.”

“Hmmm,” Winnie says, opening her eyes. “I could try something else. Maybe–”

“No, it doesn’t …” I freeze. On the edge of the periphery of my awareness, I can sense something. “Another magical,” I whisper.

“What?” Winnie says, peering over her shoulder. “Renzo Barone?”

“No, not him. It’s not powerful enough.” Winnie’s gaze flicks to mine.

“Let’s go,” she says.

We race down the hill, slipping and sliding on the dry grass, and dive into the car, Pip squeaking at us and trying to lick at my face as Winnie switches on the engine.

“Arrow Hart?” she asks.

“Arrow Hart,” I confirm.

She floors her foot to the gas and I swing my gaze around searching for the magical who’s there somewhere.