Page 72 of In the Dark

They were about to walk straight into a situation with a tenuous outcome and little chance for success. Logically, most people would run away with their tail between their legs. Leave the mess for someone else to clean up. Morgan didn’t care what most people would do. He had little use for the rest of the world. These women went above and beyond.

The things we do for people we care about, he mused. Though to be honest, the whole concept of doing something and expecting nothing in return was new to him. Unfamiliar. He was more used to being on his own. Constantly on guard against tricks and manipulations, the whims of the gods. It had taken years to figure out not everyone wanted to play him.

Tonight, with these three women surrounding him, Morgan was prepared to give and be and do everything he could.

“How long of a drive is it?” he asked.

“Long enough for you take a cat nap,” Aisanna called over her shoulder. “Buckle in for a long ride.”

Morgan took the opportunity to whip out the small notebook he kept in the pocket of his coat. A pencil stub accompanied the pages and he set to writing down his thoughts and opinions before they left his mind. Sparing a look at the back of Karsia’s head, he got to work.

She’s very powerful. They all are, in their own separate ways. They have magic passed down through heredity and gender. I’d heard about hereditary witches. About family lines dating back into antiquity and strong gifts associated with the elements. From what I understand, it is virtually unheard of for a woman to inherit her father’s magic. Yet one has. Have I been ignoring what is right in front of my face, going on the assumption that witches were a dying breed instead of a thriving culture their own?

I could slap myself.

The sisters are intriguing creatures. They seem to have accepted me as one of their pack, which makes me wonder what has happened in their short lives to make them trust me, of all people, instantly and without hesitation. And after all they have experienced, too. Aisanna, emotional and sweet, more so for the fact that she tries to hide her vulnerability. Astix is harder, more competent. More in control of her emotions and able to see the world for what it is. I look forward to speaking with them in depth after this is finished.

I’ve seen now the extent of Karsia’s fall from grace. No longer is it a simple dark entity shadowing her. Even her skin takes on a tint, a sheen of something otherworldly. It is there in her eyes, which were once the intriguing blue and yellow and green of her sisters. I’ve seen them in the other realm, when she can be herself. But here the color is lost. The blackness of her pupils has begun to seep into the cornea. Disturbing.

What she can do is astonishing. The One Who Walks in Darkness seems to have cut off any earth magic and substituted the tainted power of the damned.

I am very sorry for what happened to their mother. Not only is it devastating, something horrible to experience on the worst of days, but it came at an inopportune time as well. The sisters vow to punish the person responsible. Yet they are able to set their grief aside to focus on the larger picture—saving their sister from the shadows.

Karsia.

She no longer has the capacity to experience what she perceives as weaker emotions. Pain, sadness. Empathy. She is filled with the need for vengeance. It is something she views as imperative. I fear she will come to hate me along with her sisters for wanting to help her. She now sees her powers as a gift, an opportunity to right wrongs.

If she goes down that path there will be no redemption for her.

Still, I would cherish the opportunity to love her—

“What the hell are you doing back there, Morgan? Are you writing things about me in your little diary?”

Karsia’s scalpel-sharp tone jerked him out of his thoughts and had him blinking at her. “No. I mean, it’s not a diary.”

She scoffed and smacked at the leather-bound journal until it fell to the floor. “Cut it out. I mean it.”

Morgan reached down and gathered it to him, stowing the book in his pocket before folding his hands in his lap. “Yes, ma’am.”

“If I wanted to be studied like a lab rat, I would have turned myself over to the Claddium when this started.”

Morgan held his hands up in mock surrender. “I assure you, lab rats are not part of my scholarly repertoire. You are totally safe from me.”

Karsia bared her teeth and raked a glare over him using the rearview mirror. “Your quips aren’t welcome.”

“And here I thought you appreciated my sense of humor.” Morgan arched a brow before turning to look out the window at the passing scenery. Unbroken miles of bare tree trunks in dull brown and gray, silhouetted against unbroken expanses of pristine snow. They were in for another long night.

After that, conversation waned. It didn’t bother him. Aisanna drove steadily along icy roads, her hands clenched at the wheel.

How had they found the stone in the first place? After he got past that miraculous idea he could almost accept, almost, seeing it.

Coupled with his intense desire to help Karsia, there was a huge amount of excitement. He remembered again his first meeting with the archeologist in charge of the dig site. His first glimpse at the magnificent tablet.

If only Morgan could go back and tell his younger self, yes, he understood the importance of the find. The harsh repercussions of the described tale. Most heady of all, the truth of what they said. He’d seen the descendants of the union, of the couple destined to keep the balance, and was on his way to see the true Telos Amyet, set down by the creator above.

Certainly not how he’d planned to spend his week. But he could live with it. And tried his best to ignore the thickening air, where he could hardly take a breath. Their plan would work because it had to work. Because they had no other choice but to succeed.

He didn’t ask how Aisanna knew where to go when the roads looked the same to him. The woods lovely and deep. Covered in snow. Astix glanced out the back window once, twice. More times than he could count.

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