Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2) (15 page)

“I’m sure you knew she was corrupt,” I say, realizing Miss Canary, the person I was to trust the most, had hidden the fact that my mother was fading away into darkness.

“Yes I knew, but if I were to tell you the truth, the future would have changed and you wouldn’t be here with us today. Who knows what could have changed during the process?”

We walk into the library and the same box I noticed earlier with vines wrapped around it glows in front of me. Miss Canary walks over to the box and waves the palm of her hand over the surface. The vines move around, slithering off the sides and corners.

“I told your mother I would not open the portal for her anymore, that I could sense the corruption building inside her. The only other person who knows about the portal is—”

“Jared.”

Chapter 15

The silence in the room crawls between us. I knew there was a reason why that black cat at Witcher’s Place chased Jare out of the shop. There’s a reason why he was limping when he got home that night. I glance at Miss Canary, my eyes flashing. She moves her hand away from above the box, and the vines retract back on the sides.

I follow her to a vine-infested bookcase on our right. She trails her index finger over the spines of the thousand ancient books in the library. I can’t help but notice how calm and graceful she is. You’d think she’d be freaking out as much as the other elves were when they saw me. I’m the monster; I’m the one thing that will be able to kill them all, even in their own forest.

I tilt my head back to look at the top of the bookcase, amazed at how tall it is.

I must’ve walked past this one when I was here with Christian.

I’m still curious to know what’s so bad about being a myth. Doesn’t that help me kill mystics even faster now? Why would she even lock me up in my room in the first place? Did she think I was going to kill her and the rest of her little elves here in Ellevil? The queen thumbs through her dusty books, her eyes narrowed in focus. I can feel her energy, like how Christian felt mine. I could anticipate another’s actions; I could plan my attack before they could even think about enforcing theirs. This makes elves the most dangerous mystics alive, close to mermaids too. I understood what I read from my grimoire for the first time. Since, I guess, I’m one of
them
now.

“Ahh, found it.” Miss Canary pulls the book she was looking for off the shelf. “We need to figure out how to control that myth of yours,” she says dryly, glancing at me.

“You’re two different people,”
Donovan said to me, and I know it’s true. I still can’t believe that with all this time Mom wanted to keep it hidden from me. She’d risk her own life to keep the secret; she’d go to Ravamere and hang out with members of the Verel to keep me from knowing the dark mystery. She’d sleep with an elf, have a relationship with a mystic, resulting in having a mixed baby—all to keep one secret. She couldn’t say,
“Eliza, you’re a witch, but you’re also an elf!”

That day I stormed out of the house? I would’ve thought she was still crazy, but hey, at least she’d say something about it. I would have been upset but eventually would come to terms with it. Being a witch and an elf hybrid is not normal; then again what’s the big deal? Maybe it would’ve changed my future; maybe she’d still be alive today if she had said something…anything. She was too focused on keeping me safe and not telling me anything about who I was, the witch and elf that I am, because of
them.

She didn’t want to tell me the truth.

My mother and Jared never intended to tell me a damn thing, because of the mystics out to get me, or them, or whoever mentioned anything about being a witch
.
How was I supposed to ever learn anything about this culture I was thrown into? All I had was that dumb grimoire.

Now I’m stuck in a world not by choice but by force, and I know for a fact that if I take this old lady’s neck and smash her head against the bookcase in front of her, I’ll have about two point five seconds before she predicts it. Which also explains the two mystics waiting behind the glass walls. They are holding their weapons and chuckling together. I’d have a fifty percent chance of getting away freely, without any confrontation. I’d break off a piece of glass and gash the end right into one of their smooth faces.

I shake my head to clear it from the haunting thoughts. The sun is fading away, and gray clouds are scattered across the sky. At least the random feelings from my arms start to fade with it. There is still a slight sensation in my right arm though; my silvery tattoos start to glow.

A spark of lightning dashes through the middle, parting the clouds once more, and the thunder claps, allowing its partner to dance through the clouds. This place sure has a lot of storms running through all the time. I’m caught in one of my own, and I know I don’t need shelter because I can take on anything.

Or maybe that’s the elf inside talking.

I know being reckless will cause more hurt toward me, and I will not accomplish anything. The best thing to do right now is to wait for the problem to come to me. I glance from the window to Miss Canary, holding the book open and tracing words with her index finger, reading.

“You went to Faevil to deliver the fairy charm, and there you met Warren, the King of Fairies. Now I’m sending you to Mervil to meet Elaena, the Queen of Mermaids, and to deliver this book.” She snaps the book shut. “Elaena must receive this to help figure out,” she pauses. “To figure out mythical creatures and such.” She walks over to me, placing the book into my hands, transferring her energy into me.

“I didn’t really have a good time meeting them before. They sort of killed me,” I say, studying the blue book in my hands.

I don’t think I’d ever want to meet another mermaid again, a corrupt one, that is. I don’t know how pure mermaids are, but I’m not really liking the ocean at the moment. I drowned twice, the second time saving a corrupt elf. I knew I should’ve let him die in that water. Someone was there to help me rescue him; I can’t remember who.

“Eliza, you’re half elf. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle any mystic.” She looks me up and down. “I know you can,” she says. “Mermaids are a handful; I’ll be honest about that. Whether they’re tricky with beautiful voices or not doesn’t make them any harder to resist.” She walks in front of me, humming a melody. “And of course their kingdom is in the ocean. I believe with your new elf skills you’ll be fine.”

She continues to walk, and she really thinks I’m going to let the betrothal that she did escape that easily from my mind. I look up at the guards and then back at her as she walks in front of me. My long gold and white robe glimmers against the lights above us. I fix my hood over my head.

Two point five seconds,
I mouth, exhaling. There’s a corner to our left; I discreetly gaze up at the glass; the guards have turned around. I place the book down on a table I walk by.

This is your chance, Eliza.

When the queen turns the corner, I wrap my hands around her mouth and press my broomstick against her neck, forcing her against a wall. I press the button on my broomstick, hearing its long metal scrape, resizing itself.

“Why did you betroth me to Christian?”

She eyes me carefully. I remove my hand so she can speak, and her green eyes flash up at me. A grin appears across her face. “Because you two will soon rule everything.”

“What are you talking about? Stop talking in riddles.” I press the metal against her skin, and I hear it sizzle. She smiles at me, holding back the tears in her eyes. I remove the broomstick. “Talk.”

She flares her nostrils, and it feels like all the happiness from inside of her has escaped.

“I know you knew about Christian messing with your mind,” she says, “yet you chose not to retaliate. You’re a smart witch, Eliza.”

I grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back against the books behind her.

“Christian is far more evil than you think,” she coughs. “Do you wish to know the truth about my husband?”

I press the button on my broomstick once more. I hear the metal scrape against the inside as it turns into a shiny little dagger.

“He didn’t die because of me,” she says. I let go of her hair. “He was murdered…by Christian. He murdered my husband at the age of five.” She stands up properly, her voice trembling.

“Why did he murder him?”

“For no reason. After I adopted him, he started to change…” Her voice trails off and she glances up at the books around us. “That little elf was already corrupt; he was born in Ravamere and escaped.”

“He was going to kill me if I didn’t agree to betroth you that night I entered your home.”

I remember the charm not going off at home and how she asked for the rose. She spoke some language and then it was a burst of green light; it was a burst of a new me, a new path that I did not choose to walk. Unexpectedly, Miss Canary slams her knee into my gut and I drop to the floor in pain.

“And he’s going to kill me if you don’t become his wife, so no, Eliza Rose, you may not leave.” Her voice becomes soft once more. “You are to deliver the book to Elaena, or I will kill you myself before Christian strikes my heart.”

I remember the noise from outside my house when I was a child; my thoughts were correct. Mom was fighting Miss Canary because she wanted to betroth me and save her life and maybe save her husband’s. Christian was out to get us; he’s probably stalking in the shadows right now.

The queen steps around the corner, and soon the two elf guards walk swiftly around the edge for me. I place my broomstick in my pocket as they pull me up on my feet. I hear the thunder booming outside as they walk me to my room. Miss Canary stands behind, watching me being escorted. Her markings dim.

Her silky skin isn’t so silky tonight.

***

The two elves open the doors to my room, throwing me on the floor. The book lands right next to me and the door slams shut. I place my palms on the floor, getting myself to my feet. I toss the book on my bed and walk over to the broken window. The air from the increasing wind roars into my room. My hood is forced back, and I hear the thunder clap one more time as the clouds procced to drizzle their rain.

I know that Christian is out there somewhere. I scan the forest trees, bent to the side from the wind and rain. I stride to the bed and sit on the edge, picking up the book. The blue lines from the design on the cover glow. The wind is knocked out of me. I drop the book on the floor, struggling to breathe. The tattoos on my arms and neck vibrate. The witch ones burn and the elf ones freeze. My eyes are numb, so they must be beaming green. The noise around me from the storm mutes; I become blind, weightless, and unaware of my surroundings.

Chapter 16

I am falling, but to where?

I land in dirt. If this is another one of those strange vision moments I have randomly, it sure feels different than the ones before. This one feels like my body is leaving my room. All of my senses are stolen from me, and the headache I always feel approaching comes, this time with a big punch. I hear horses chewing on grass. I open my eyes; I’m in the backyard of some old cottage house. Sheep run to my side, and there is hay right in front of me.

This is definitely not Ellevil.

I rub my head, waiting to snap back into reality. Usually it takes a minute or two to get back to where I was. Only this time it feels like I’m stuck. I slap my head, trying my best to snap out of the vision. Nothing works. The horse stops eating to look up at me.

“What are you looking at? You think I’m crazy?” I say to the horse. The animal makes a huffing noise and turns around, swinging its tail to walk away.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I kick the dirt and hay aside, getting up so I can walk by. I hear a bell ring from behind me and duck behind a large bundle of hay.

“Jared, get back inside before the trial begins!” says a voice that sounds familiar to me. I peek around, seeing a boy run from the field next to me and across the short grass. His name is the same as my brother’s. He’s wearing a white shirt and some shorts. The lady who called for him holds the handle of a black candle holder for light. I hear the door close, then I walk over to the end of the backyard. A few females are about, wearing long dresses and bonnets, being escorted by a man on a horse.

There’s a building in front of them. I walk a bit closer to the little town. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. I’m definitely in another time, because of how things around me look. I hear music that gets louder when the doors of a saloon are opened. I stand near the edge of a wooden house, watching. A woman is thrown out of the party and crashes against the dirt. Two guys walk out of the saloon staring her down, and she gets to her feet.

“So it’s like that?” The two guys look at each other. “What’s the party without little ole’ me, boys?” She tilts her head to the side, her voice sounding muffled as she stumbles across the ground. “What are you staring at? Ya’ fat beggard.” She points at the taller guy in front of her, showing her teeth as she laughs. The guy comes down the steps, walking toward her. The shorter guy wraps his fingers around his arm, pulling the guy back.

“John, she’s drunk. Leave the lady alone.”

“Do you understand these females are being put on trial?”

“He thinks of me as a witch, that’s why.” She spits at the guy’s face. The taller man slaps her face, and she lands on the ground, laughing crazily, digging her fingers into the dirt.

“John,” his friend mutters, but John’s focus is on the girl. His friend looks over in my direction, and I press my back on the side of the house. I definitely am not in the present year by how they’re talking and what they’re wearing. I peek around the corner of the house. The two guys are wearing black shoes and gray robes. John turns around to look at his friend.

“Stop sticking up for her. This bitch is a witch!” He points over at the woman laughing on the ground. The guy John looks behind his friend at the woman; she pulls out a slim brown object from her pockets. I hear the click of a button and she smiles.

“Yes I’m a witch, ya’ bastard!” she shouts. The object morphs into a silver dagger; the weapon she’s holding is a broomstick. My heart pounds against my chest and my legs become weak. The guys look at the lady, their eyes growing wider as they step back.

“Not so tough now, are ya?” She hiccups. I need to go and help her, and I feel like I need to stop her from killing the two men.

I leave my hiding place, glancing to my left and right to see if anyone is around. I race down the trail toward them, but something grabs my arm, pulling me back.

“Don’t. You’ll change the future.” There’s a lady with red hair standing in front of me. She looks like my great-grandmother, Mellissa.

“Stay put,” she says, flicking her eyes at the others. She pulls her brown hood over her head and walks to the scene, her boots scratching against the dirt trail.

“John and Emil, thank you for watching over my granddaughter. There’s no problem here.” She crooks up a grin.

“Grams, these two bastards want to test me!” the drunk lady’s voice screeches loudly between the huddled group around her. When lights from the houses surrounding them flick on, the lady with red hair turns slightly, glancing at the cottages. The drunk woman waves around her broomstick, lunging forward playfully with its sharp tip.

“Grace.” The red haired lady’s voice is stern.

Grace?

Mom?

My mouth drops open and I cover it with my hand in shock. My mother is acting drunk. I don’t know where I am but she doesn’t look old; she’s in her late twenties. Her light brown hair lies messily across her shoulders. My heart picks up faster and it starts to feel hard to breathe. I’m in shock seeing my mother, Grace, in front of me. The lady next to her is my great-grandmother Mellissa. What the hell is going on? I slap my head harder a couple of times, trying to snap out of this vision.

The two guys fall back on the steps simultaneously, more lights flicker on, and doors creak open. Several people creep out of their little cottages to stand on their porches. Mellissa keeps her head down as she holds onto Mom’s hand. Grace yanks her hand out of her grip.

“Let me go, Grams,” she says.

Mellissa turns to look at me. Grace and my great-grandmother walk back toward the house the little boy ran into. The crowd outside murmurs aloud as they walk into the middle of the town. Mellissa looks at me and then directs her gaze at the hay stack from where I landed in.

“Those two are witches!” John’s voice shoots across the murmurs.

A lady gasps and runs over to him.

“Get the stake ready!” a man yells, pumping up his town members. I walk backward beside the wall of the house behind which I am hiding. The light in the backyard flickers on.

“Eliza?” the soothing voice of Mellissa whispers. “Quickly, my dear, before anyone sees you.” Her red hair swoops in front of her slim nose as she peeks from around the corner, holding her candle. “Quickly, quickly,” she urges, glancing behind me.

I run over to where she stands and enter the little pen where the animals stay. I look up to my great-grandmother’s face; her eyes are droopy and her skin is loose from age. The first time I saw she was chasing down Alec Verel in the forest, she was much younger then.

“Why am I here? Where am I?” I say.

She places her index finger across her lips, shushing me, her eyes sliding to the right. She then presses her hand against my chest, forcing us back to lean against the side of the house. I hear the sound of a horse’s hooves clapping on the dirt and gravel. About five different horses with men and women straddled on their backs gallop down the dirt trail. I look over to my grandmother as she shakes her head side to side, and as soon as the riders get on the field they disappear into the darkness.

“They are looking for your brother…Jared.” She walks me over to stand in front of the cottage’s back door. “This is Vaelle, the forbidden lands of Ellevil.”

“How did I get here, and is that my mother?” My legs become weak and I am breathing shallowly.

“I need to talk to her. I need to see if she’s okay.” I rush in front of my great-grandmother to reach for the door, but she pulls me back.

“Eliza, you can’t. You’ve astral projected yourself back in time.”

I lift my eyes up to her and my markings on my arm freeze and warm up. “I…I what?”

“It’s called astral projection. You’re part elf, and elf myths have that ability.”

“Witches don’t have powers.”

“You’re a myth, not a witch.” She clears her throat. “Anything you do or say to anyone else here can change the future.”

“Hasn’t the future already changed since I’m talking with you?”

“I’ve seen you already, and I’ll see you again soon. I’m sure you’re aware by now that my daughter Lauren is also a myth.”

The ends of my fingers tingle and there’s a buzzing feeling around my ankles; they’ve awakened from being asleep.

“The visions you’ve been having…” She stares at me. “You’ve astral projected yourself back to the event, to Lauren and her husband, the fairy and the woman in the alley.” She pauses and then says, “Here in Vaelle.”

It makes perfect sense. I’d thought they were dreams, visions or something else. I didn’t think my whole body was traveling. How does she know this?

“Certain things trigger you to project yourself, and whenever it’s the right time for you to go back, you wake up.” She inhales and then releases a deep sigh. “It’s deep magic; anything can trigger it. An emotion, a memory,” she says, walking out to the end of the animal pen and turning around. “Anything, projection is a gift but can be dangerous if used improperly,” she says. “You’re the only elf myth in the family. My daughter was a mermaid myth. There’s certain things I cannot say, because I don’t want to change your destiny.” A grin appears on her face. “What path you want to take is for you to decide.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“And that’s okay, because soon you’ll know.”

I remember when she said the people here were looking for Jared. Why? I hear noise from the inside of the cottage.

“Was that little boy you called out earlier to come inside Jared?”

She walks toward me and says, “Yes, that was your brother.”

“Mom didn’t have me yet, did she?”

Mellissa walks me over to the edge, seeing people talking among themselves, and walking up to the house Mom ran into; we’re hiding right behind that house.

Mellissa places her hand on my shoulder. “Stay out of sight, and watch closely. We don’t know what will send you back to your time. Maybe you need to see or feel something.” She walks toward the back entrance of the house. “Stay out here.”

There’s still so many questions I would like to ask her. I hear the men and women, creating noise as they stand in the middle of the town. The door shuts as I look through the hole in the wood. Mom is standing behind Jared.

His hair is white, his eyes blue. I don’t think he’s gotten his witch markings yet.

“Are they coming for me?” Mom asks nervously.

“Just like how they did your mother. You were reckless and showed who you truly were,” Mellissa replies.

I stand on my tiptoes, trying to see the two of them clearly. Mom’s silver markings are glowing and she still looks loopy.

“You know exactly who they’re coming for.” Mellissa glances up, looking at me. I step back a bit as she positions herself back around to face Mom. “Even though this used to be the land of witches, they’ve gotten rid of every living one from here.” She pauses, listening to the murmur of the crowd outside. “You’ve cut his wings but they’ll grow back sooner or later.”

I stand outside breathing slowly and hearing every bit of what they’re saying. My fingers brush against the wood of the back door.

There’s a land of witches?             

Mom moves Jared to the side, knowing what’s about to happen to her son. She walks swiftly to the back of the house, bringing forth a large wooden plank and slamming it down across the door, keeping anyone from entering their home.

“You’ve already proven the accusations, Grace. Why do you think the girls went into the hall? They’ve been accused of being witches.” Mellissa rushes over to Grace, stepping in front of her. “The Verel already know about you both and who you’ve been secretly talking to.”

“Marcus?” Mom says, her mouth parted slightly as she huffs and puffs her way around her grandmother.

“I’ve warned you countless times about that man, Grace.”

Mom waves her hand, rolling her eyes. She walks Jared over to the shadows of the home. There’s a bang on the door and I flinch; so does everyone inside the house. A sound of a horse’s hooves plopping and crumbling up the mulch on the trail sounds as they return. I step beside the cottage, slipping into darkness. There’s a pair of glowing green eyes a distance from the trees, watching me. The rush of the men and woman on their horses pass me by, and I cover my mouth to keep from yelping.

I hear a loud crash. The crowd outside the house has forced their way through Mom’s barricade. The wood snaps and crackles as the angry citizens break through. I hear a zap from inside and rush over to the back door, seeing my mother’s broomstick circling in the air. She presses the button as it resizes and morphs into a silver sword. People run inside, throwing in flames and setting the house on fire. They shout and yell in excitement. She slices the air with her sword, trying to protect my brother. My markings are vibrating across my arms.

“Get the child. He’s the one we need!” a man grunts.

I reach for the door, looking up at Mellissa; the palm of her hand is faced toward me. She shakes her head. My eyes become warm and watery. A man pushes Grace out of the way, and I hear my mother screaming to the floor. Jared coughs, crying from the shadows. He is then snatched by a group of men.