Page 68 of Seducing Hope (The Hope Legacy)

“If I get in trouble, you can just teleport yourselves in.”

“It’s warded, remember?” Jed grinds through his teeth.

I give him a determined stare. “How long have you guys been trying to access this cave?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought. Stay here—I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you,” I say, glancing at the tribe, whose numbers keep increasing. All stay knelt on the ground. A firm tug on my arm reminds me I need to be on the move with the old woman. I take a read of her aura—purple with a smattering of blue. Hmm… spiritual, intuitive, and calm. Not the reading of someone leading me to certain death. Maybe they’re a sexist community and don’t value men? The women certainly seem to have the last say, and I think this older woman is their leader.

I follow her into the cave. The shining onyx walls glitter until we round a corner and are plunged into complete darkness. People talk about not being able to see their hands in front of them—this was literal right now. I stumble, and only the old woman’s strong grip keeps me upright. She clucks her tongue. Ha, I’m being admonished. She whispers a few indecipherable words, and flames leap to life along the wall.

“You could have done that in the first place,” I mutter.

She laughs.

“Wait, you understand me?” I squeak. “What’s your name?”

No response.

“Wendy?” Silence.

“Katherine?” More silence.

“Betty?” She smiles. “Well, Betty it is, then,” I declare.

She drops my hand as we enter a large cavern. I gawk at the ceiling, which is twice the height of a normal house. Walking around the edge of the circular room, I run my hands over the symbols and drawings that cover every inch of the walls. My brain tugs at a memory. Straining to remember, my jaw drops open.

They’re the same symbols we found on Mary Conway.

Duncan needs to see this. Taking out my phone, I move in a circle to take panoramic photos of the walls. It’s impossible to get everything, as the symbols go up to the roof. I glance at Betty; she seems unconcerned with me taking photos.

She drags me to the center of the room, in between where she’s placed four candles in a square. She draws symbols in the dirt in front of each candle; a flash of an image from my studies at the SIP makes me realize the wavy lines represent water. I follow her other drawings—fire, earth, and wind. She fusses in the folds of her scrappy skirt and pulls out an object, which she hands to me. It resembles a star with a set of smaller stars on the edge of each point. It’s the width of a small teacup, and I turn it over in my hands; it feels cool, like some sort of metal. I stare at it for a long time before meeting Betty’s gaze.

“Um… thank you. What is it?”

She simply watches me with a bemused expression.

“Fine… not much of a talker, are you?” She pats my jacket. Looking at the object once more, I follow her silent instructions and slip it into my pocket.

Suddenly, Betty grasps both of my hands and begins chanting. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle with the presence of magic. Not sure what to do, I stand still and concentrate on her words. A pulse of power almost brings me to my knees, as a fireball spins around the room before igniting one of the candles.

Without pause, the earth beneath my feet begins to move, as if we’re in the midst of an earthquake. A lump of dirt falls from the ceiling, hitting my shoulder. My breathing picks up as I fear it may collapse, burying us alive. As I’ve already explained, this is definitely not the epic death I have planned. The next candle ignites. Betty opens her eyes and stares at me.

“What do you want me to do?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Ha, youdounderstand me!”

She clucks her tongue, like a mother telling off her child. Placing a hand over my heart, she takes a deep breath, grabs my hand, and places it against her chest. Her heartbeat vibrates strong and steady against my palm. Several moments later, mine slows to mimic hers, and a strange power begins to swirl inside me. Betty nods at me in approval and thumps my chest once. I cough, and a sudden gust of wind whips around the edge of the walls. Another candle ignites.

I blink. “I did that? Cool—I think…?” I lean to step away, but she holds me tight and looks pointedly at the final unlit candle, making me draw my eyebrows together. I’ve shown no affinity for water. She takes a deep breath, as before. I indulge her and do the same; closing my eyes, I focus on her heartbeat and try to imagine something water related. A raging storm on the ocean crashes in my mind, and salt tingles my lips, making me lick them. I gasp as ice cold water pelts my face. My eyes snap open to the darkest storm cloud I’ve ever seen hovering above us. Instinctively, I duck.

Betty slaps me across the head, making me lose concentration on the cloud, and the rain disappears.Okay, then. I’m confused… was that me or her?

All four candles are now lit. Betty begins chanting again, and the flames rise higher; all we need now is blood, and we’re ripe for an episode of one of Duncan’s favorite shows. God, I hope there’s no blood. I’m still trying to process the power in the room, from both me and her, when she slams my hands against the floor, forcing me to my knees. I yelp and try to pull away. She holds them firm to the ground, continuing to chant.

I tense my body. Old she may be, butdamnshe’s strong. Extending and scooping my leg out, I prepare to knock her on her back, but the room becomes shrouded in darkness, and a gentle caress along my arm has me shrieking.

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