A flashlight.
And not just any flashlight—one of those really big ones with the handle and everything.
Pointing it very rudely at your face, he asks, “What was the point of even going out to check if we weren’t going to do anything?”
“Eli,” his grandmother scolds, and he turns the light away, leaving you squinting as your night vision slowly returns. “Sorry about him,” she says, turning back to you. “He’s just grumpy because he still hasn’t inherited my magic.”
Across the room, he snaps the light off, and the stairs creak as he sits heavily down in the dark.
But he doesn’t deny it.
“This way,” Elena says, gesturing with one glowing hand toward a weathered old couch that’s probably been down in this basement a good fifty years, by the tattered look of the plaid ‘70s fabric.
There’s not exactly any better place to sit, so you reluctantly drop down beside her, still feeling a little uncomfortable with the whole deal.
Mostly on account of the kidnapping.
Up above, the distant howling of the wind rattles the walls, and you try not to worry about what would happen if that storm turns into a tornado.
You hope the basement would protect you.
“That’s why we need your help,” she says, the soft blue-white glow of her magic casting her face in an odd, dull light that makes her look even older and more worn-out than before. “I’m old, Chosen One. Soon, I’ll depart this world. And I need to leave a legacy, someone who can protect our town. I thought that legacy would have fallen to Eli, but so far, his magic hasn’t manifested. Which leaves me no choice but to find a replacement from outside.”
“Let me guess,” you say dryly. “That’s where I come in?”
Eli laughs from across the room. “Told you, old woman. You can’t just kidnap people and expect them to help.”
He may be rude and grumpy, but at least he’s got some sense.
“It’s not forever, Chosen One,” Granny Elena says quickly. “Just until his magic unlocks.”
The little orb of light in her palms flickers and goes out momentarily before coming back, weaker and more faded than before.
“As you can see,” she says rather sadly. “My magic is waning. I can no longer protect our town.”
And when she looks up at you again, her eyes are full of desperation.
“Please, Chosen One. You’re our only hope.”
Ziros
What the hell kind of storm is this?
One minute it’s sunny.
The next the wind is so strong, I’d have struggled to maintain a gale like this even before I got my magic tied to my human.
Whatever this storm is, it doesn’t feel normal.
It’s giving me a bad feeling. Like there’s a fault here—a place where the divide between worlds is thin.
And it’s gotta be a real bad one to cause a storm the likes of this.
But at least I must be getting close to my human.
Wherever the hell June is, however the hell she got here, I finally feel alive again.
I sit up in the back of the truck, stretching my arms and cracking my neck as the driver pulls off the highway and onto a side road.
