Page 47 of Twilight Echoes
She chose life.
“You’re going to be entering what we call the empty space,” Merlin said. “The potion will allow you to see the keeper of the locked books.”
“Why can’t we just call upon this keeper to give it back?” Darrell said, not hiding his frustration or his sarcasm.
“Only the head wizard of any coven can get it back, and they risk not being able to make it back,” Merlin said, his damn even tone making her want to crawl out of her skin.
“This is sounding like a dumber plan by the second,” Darrell muttered.
“Just remember to trust your instincts,” her father said, holding her shoulders.
Right, because being a ballerina had prepared her for this.
“He will point you to where the book is, but he can’t go with you,” Merlin said. “And don’t let him distract you.”
She nodded. “Anything else?”
“Get the book, hold it tight, and cast the spell to bring you and the book back,” Merlin said, clasping his hands together.
“Are you ready?” her father asked, leaning against the table, his arms folded.
Darrell stood next to him, same position, with a deep scowl on his face.
She smoothed down her jeans and took in a deep breath. Taking even a weakened wizard’s power would be difficult. No matter how much she prepared herself for the collision between her powers and his, she could not predict how her body would react.
Much less Darrell’s, and since they were connected through her aura, he would most likely feel and see everything she did.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.
“Drink this.” Merlin handed her a small test tube filled with a smoky purple liquid. “It will help protect your connection to Darrell. And whatever you do, don’t project to each other.”
Her father glanced at Darrell as he placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “Go sit next to her. That might help too.”
Darrell nodded as he walked slowly, his feet scuffing the dulled tile floor. He sat on the hard wooden chair next to her, holding her hand, his thumb gently rubbing her skin.
“While I cast the spell, Prince Albert will try to contain the spell Regan hexed,” Merlin spoke in a monotone voice. “From the time my powers leave my body, we will have only a few minutes to snap the book back and cast the powers back to me.”
“How many minutes, exactly?” Avery asked.
“Maybe five,” her father answered.
“Here we go,” Merlin said. “The witch and this wizard are one. We are bonded together until the deed is done. Out of the cauldron and into wait, I cast the powers of fate.”
She gritted her teeth as a fire burned deep in the pit of her gut.
Darrell growled low, squeezing her hand, turning her knuckles white.
“I shall regain my strength in my sister form to pull back the book that fell into warn.”
As Merlin spoke, her body shivered as her pores opened up, allowing a gray cloud of smoke to settle into her bloodstream. A surge of energy, like the crackle of a lightning bolt, exploded from her toes to her head. Her aura shifted, pulling closer to her body. She shoved it away, mentally reaching out to Darrell, trying not to project.
“The magic rises in the west, setting where we need it best,” Merlin said. “Out of the cauldron and into the past, find the Witches of the Willows Book of Shadows from the tree of the last.”
“Now,” her father commanded as he held a ball of white smoke between his hands, his body wrinkling like skin soaked in water for hours.
She closed her eyes, ignoring the sharp, stabbing pain in her temples as she stepped into the past, following the trail of fireflies leading the way. Visions of people she’d never met floated by.
“Hurry,” her father said in a voice so soft, she barely heard him.
