Page 62 of Untraced Magic
We made our way down the rise, where I paused at the bottom, steering my gaze to the side. A vine of periwinkle covered the ground, its violet flowers scattered throughout. What was it even doing flowering in winter?
I turned to face Morgan behind me. “Do you mind waiting here for a moment?” I grazed her hand with my thumb. “There’s something I need to do.”
Her head dipped to the side. “Sure.”
Morgan rested on a rock as I strode over to the periwinkle, plucking off a lone flower, then made my way over to a small cemetery that lay within sight of the track. I hadn’t been back since Ava’s funeral, the scattering of dirt as it landed on her casket still fresh in my mind, as if it were only yesterday that we’d laid her to rest.
A layer of thick moss clung to the narrow footpath leading up to the grave site, shadows dampening the air from loosely scattered branches above, clinging to winter. A wrought iron fence surrounded the modest cemetery of gravestones, pushing from the ground in all shapes and sizes. Many stood crooked, others cracked.
The iron gate groaned in protest as I pushed it open, clanging shut behind me as I passed through, one foot in front of the other, making my way to Ava’s grave.
Her headstone appeared to have barely aged, only muted in color over time with dust nestling in the intricately carved scripture, buried into the stone. Not a day had passed since her death that I hadn’t wished my life had been taken in place of hers.
I hated myself for being so selfish. For thinking I could protect a human in my world.
But most of all, I hated the vampires. I didn’t know if hate even covered it. A word so brashly used, it had lost its sharp edges.
The overgrown grass pressed into the ground beneath my knee, and I rolled the periwinkle stem between my thumb and pointer finger, spinning it slowly.
One by one I plucked off a violet petal, letting them fall to her grave. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. In my palm lay the remaining stem, and I stripped it back until the fairy toothbrush, as Ava had called it, remained. I remember laughing when she first showed me the tiny stem that indeed resembled a fairy’s toothbrush. I’d shaken my head in disbelief.
Placing it in my palm, my breath forced it into the air, where it landed with the petals. My palm landed on the grass beside thedissected flower, and I stilled, shutting my eyes. A raspycrawfrom a raven scraped the silence.
A tightness bobbed in my throat as my knees left the ground again, turning on my heel.
Returning to Morgan, she held out her hand, and I let her warmth press into my palm.
“Was that her grave?” she asked, her free hand breezing up my forearm.
I offered a tight smile. “Yeah, I haven’t been back since the funeral. I hope you don’t mind.”
Her palm squeezed mine, that same calm spreading through me again. “I don’t mind at all,” she said without hesitation, locking her gaze to mine.
We walked in comfortable silence, back along the dirt track until we hit the footpath. Rain dampened the ground creatingthatsmell I had loved since I was a kid.
I inhaled a deep breath. “I love that smell… When rain first hits the ground, I mean.”
“I think you either love it or hate it.” Morgan shrugged beside me.
I gave her a sidelong look. “And your verdict is?”
She crinkled her nose. “Not a fan.”
I playfully scoffed, kicking aside some leaves in our path. “Oh, come on, how could you not? It’s nature, something that could never be replicated if you tried.”
“Very true,” she mused, giving me a nudge. “Still not a fan.”
I laughed, loving how honest she was, not afraid to voice herown opinion.
“What do you think I should call her?” She turned her head to mine. “Betty? Gran? Maybe it’s too soon.”
I shrugged, a smile on my face. “Call her whatever you feel comfortable with, I guess. I can’t imagine she would be displeased with Gran, though.”
“Hmmm,” she agreed, seeming lost in thought.
When we entered the house, there was a silence I didn’t expect. Morgan moved to the kitchen counter where a note lay and she picked it up, walking over to the couch. She unfolded it and read aloud.
“Dearest Morgan. This is a lot for you to take in, so I’ve left for the evening. Catch up soon. Betty.” Her shoulders dropped, a sadness spoiling her irises.
