Echo, p.34
Echo, page 34
"This was months ago, Tara," Heidi said. "He’s probably dead by now."
"What about the Magic Board? The governments? The armies?" Tara screamed her lungs out. "Don’t tell me it’s over. I have a child who barely lived."
"What happened here?" I asked the guide, aghast. "Did Jivar do all this?"
"Jivar?" She scoffed. "Oh, honey. You have no idea."
We teleported outside, where I saw ruins of buildings, broken bridges, and shattered cars. Rotten bodies littered the street, and in the sky, a four-headed beast prowled for corpses to eat.
"Jivar’s plan backfired," the guide explained. "He opened the borders between seven different dimensions, unleashing hell on this one. In the end, he failed to control his beasts. They killed him, as well as many others. One-tenth of humans survived."
"I can’t believe this." I collapsed to my knees and cried out hysterically, "Why are you showing me this? What do you want me to do?"
"Verily, I find amusement in your suffering." The guide’s voice became deeper, manlier. I looked up to see she had revealed her true face, Jivar’s.
***
Here’s the secret of the Magic of Minds: To hold sway over someone, you must spot their biggest fear. That was the mind game Jivar played, and I was his victim. Back at the Barag, he pulled me close and put his hands on my waist. Classical music played out of nowhere, and Jivar motioned me to the melody.
"Why are we here?" I asked. As we swayed, I almost tripped over the tail of my clothes. When did I change into this? Jivar had me wearing a medieval-style beaded dress with a corset that made it difficult to breathe.
"It is about time we get acquainted, Echo," he said.
"Is this a nightmare within a nightmare thing?"
"This is not a dream," he replied. "But we are inside your head. Tell me, Echo. What do you fear the most?"
"Being stuck in your arms for another second." I tried to free myself.
Jivar drew a superior grin. "I can tell that you fear the future as well as your inadequacy."
Jivar twirled me around when the music hit its climax. My heart sank. It felt like the entire room rotated, then I was back in his arms.
"You live on borrowed power," he said. "Without the essence of my soul, you have nothing. Is this why you fear being exposed?"
"I’ve earned my power, Jivar." I gritted my teeth. "By working harder than anyone and practicing every day so I can beat you."
"Magnificent." He let go of me. "I need you to be powerful. How else are you going to perform my ritual."
"I won’t perform anything for you." I held my head, which had become dizzy from the dancing.
Jivar and I locked eyes as if we were in a staring contest. While rage burned through me, his face showed indifference.
"It is saddening," he said. "How you bring pain to people who care about you, Echo."
The words came to me. I feel like I bring pain to people who care about me. I had said this to Kirby back on the roof. "What are you talking about?" I tried to stay undaunted.
"Your mother, your grandfather, your sister..." he counted. "And your father. If only you knew what you did to him."
"My father died in an accident before I was born."
"Did he?" His knowing smirk stirred my anxiety.
***
Blush-rose curtains hung on the windows. "What is this place?" I asked, looking around like a lost child searching for a familiar face. On the table sat my mother’s panther figurine and Tara’s old teddy. Yet it wasn’t our house but an apartment I didn’t know.
Into the room, my mother walked along with a man. She rested on the couch while he rushed to light up the fireplace.
Is this? I recognized him from the photos. Leonard Knight, the number one lawyer on Oracles Island. He had an ardent spirit and a silly grin that I took after him. For a moment, I was happy to see my dad—to hear his voice and learn what he smelled like, to be with him in the same room. Then I realized Jivar created that vision. No matter how desperate I was, it couldn’t go well.
The crackling flames burned, slowly warming up the room. "Thanks for taking Tara to your parents’ house," Mother said. "I needed some quiet time."
"I wish I could do more to help," Dad replied.
"You’re busy at work, and my hormones are out of whack these days. I don’t want to drag you into the drama."
"Drag me? We’re a team, Lillian." He sat next to her and kissed her on the forehead. "Anything for you and the girls."
"Anything for the girls," Mother repeated with a sad smile.
"Why are we here?" I turned to Jivar, clutching my dress. "This isn’t my memory."
"Not in the conventional sense," he replied. "It’s a moment you lived when you were inside this woman."
"I don’t want to be here." Please.
He couldn’t care less about what I wanted.
The doorbell sounded. I followed my father outside to see a young boy in a purple topcoat too big for him. "Lillian Blackwood," Zaros said. "Does she live here?"
"No, no, no. This didn’t happen." I slapped my head repeatedly, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. "Get me out of here."
Zaros barged into the apartment. Without lifting a finger, he slammed my father against the wall.
"What are you?" Dad cried out in horror. He reached for a vase to throw at Zaros, but the vase suddenly burned up, scorching my father’s hand.
"Ahhh," my father groaned and gasped. A small sculpture, a candle, a key chain—he threw whatever he had in reach at Zaros, but they turned into ashes. It wasn’t hard to imagine what would happen next.
"Get me out of here," I begged Jivar, trying to look away.
"You must learn the truth," he said, "No matter how ugly it is."
"You sick bastard!" I uttered, pressing my hands to my head. "I don’t want to watch my father die."
The ceiling lamp flickered with my rising agony. Upon my cry, the apartment shattered like glass, vanishing into nothing. Suddenly, we were back at the Barag.
"How did I do this?" I let my hands rest.
"I told you, Echo. We are inside your head," he replied. "Do you not care to know how your mother escaped that day?"
"Burn in hell, Jivar," I said, unable to hold back. "Di lucis, commoda mihi potestatem tuam."
In the million times I had imagined facing Jivar, I never expected my rage to outweigh the fear. From my hands emerged a beam of light that sprang at him in the form of two panthers, letting out their full-throated roars.
"Explodere." I blew up the ceiling, and the bricks fell like raindrops in a downpour.
Jivar killed the first panther and turned the bricks into dust. "A falling ceiling? Is this your best attack?"
"That wasn’t the attack," I said, glancing at the broken ceiling from which sunlight streamed. "O scorching sun. I summon your essence into me."
As my body heated up, a focused blaze arose from my palms and darted towards Jivar, who blocked it with a barrier.
He’s calm and deliberate. Reminds me of Vanna.
I have always had one advantage over her.
I’m unpredictable.
"Rimanis loved the hilis, didn’t she?" I asked.
"What—"
"Speculo." A mirror-like energy screen surrounded Jivar, reflecting the blaze at him and weakening his barrier. I turned the marble floor into shackles that trapped his ankles, giving my panther time to launch at Jivar, leaving its claw marks on his cheeks.
But a scrape on the cheek was the best I could do. Despite his momentary confusion and being trapped in my two spells, Jivar killed the panther.
I can’t keep this up. My body shook as I tried to hold the spells. I had to throw him off guard. "Even without your soul, you cared enough to plant her favorite flower in your garden." I pushed myself to create one more panther that attacked from behind, but Jivar dodged. "Did you ever think that, perhaps, your soul left traces?"
"This is enough," he said before freezing everything in the room. Cold air tore through my heated skin. The panther, the mirrors, the books, and the remains of the blaze were covered in ice.
What the hell is this? My chest ached.
Steam roiled in the air as Jivar melted the ice around his feet. He strutted towards me. The frozen tiles cracked underneath him.
"You can continue to attack me, and I shall defend myself," he said. "But none of this matters, Echo. Do you know why?"
I swallowed.
"Because I found your biggest fear." He pulled me by the shoulders. Beyond the facade of anger, he could see what I feared most. He knew it had already happened.
"Tell the truth, Echo." His eyes flashed red as he commanded. "What happened to Viessa?"
"Doyle and Ebba traveled in time and saved her from the farm when she was young," I admitted. My eyes shot open. Wha-what’s happening?
"How are they able to master such a spell?" he asked.
"Ebba." I tried to press my lips shut, but the words forced themselves out of my mouth. "Ebba is Lú. She has the Magic of Time."
None of the things I confessed seemed to surprise Jivar. "How are you planning to stop the rising?"
Oh, God. Please, don’t answer. Keep your mouth shut, Echo. "By reversing Lú’s immortality spell. I have all the ingredients ready."
Jivar snickered. His laugh was unamused, lifeless. He looked at me, and his eyes flashed red again. "Two days from now, at the time of the eclipse, I will send someone for you and Doyle. You shall accompany him to the Lone Mountain, where you will perform my ritual. Do not speak of this with anyone. You can neither resist nor escape my command. Wherever you are, I will be in your head, Echo."
***
I woke up on the living room couch, gasping. The Book of Recreation had dropped to the floor when I fell asleep. On the table, the empty cups of coffee remained. They had been there all night.
My brain hurt at the ugly realization. I never went to the Barag or met Jivar. In my sleep, he came to me and commanded that I do his ritual. I was obliged to obey and forbidden from sharing what happened with my friends. He won. My heart tumbled. Jivar won.
Chapter 33: Fervent Faces
"Three ground leaves of Mitu Parim, some dirt from the Oasis graves, and finally..." I grimaced as I pressed a knife into my palm. To distract myself from the pain, I looked around my lair. The brownish stone walls reminded me of the gingerbread house my grandfather made at Christmas. What a strange thing to remember at this time.
Gimlet-eyed, Viessa watched my blood trickling into the copper chalice and seeping into the mix of herbs, powders, and dirt. "If you’re creating a new spell, why do you have to make it so painful?"
"The ritual has to match the complexity of the spell," I explained.
"Hmm." She sank in thought. "What’s it for anyway?"
"I-I’m not sure," I said as I glanced at the ingredients list on the counter. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell what spell I was creating.
Viessa forgot about her question before I did. Her thoughtful expression faded into a bright smile as she grabbed the spoon to blend the ingredients. "Now we make a paste."
"Yes." I whispered a spell to stop the bleeding before grabbing a small stone from the drawer. "We’ll use the paste to draw the sigil on this stone to make a portable altar," I said. "I learned this from your mother."
"Mom is the best." Viessa continued to stir, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the bloody mixture.
She is so innocent, so happy. Looking at her gave me a smile.
My phone vibrated on the counter. It was a text from Heidi: Turn on the news. I headed to the living room, where Doyle watched the TV.
Due to an unidentified gas leak, the residents of Shady Mews are forced to evacuate the town. Police forces, led by lieutenant Heidi Morton, are coordinating the evacuation procedure. Around five thousand citizens are fleeing the noxious gas, causing a traffic jam on the highway.
"What’s happening?" I gaped at the screen. Before my thoughts drifted away, the phone rang.
"I can’t believe you talked me into this," Heidi’s voice came from the other side of the call. "Make sure your grandfather’s firm has a place for me. When the truth comes out, I’ll definitely lose my job."
"What are you talking about, Heidi?"
"What do you think, smart ass? I’m talking about your plan. Faking a gas leak to evacuate Shady Mews before the rising? We may have scared everyone, but at least they’ll be safe. I hate to say this, Echo, but you did a good job."
"What’s that about?" I turned to Doyle, who smiled and winked at me, then I forgot about Heidi’s call.
***
The smell of freshly baked cookies brought me to the kitchen. Tara peeked into the oven before she closed it and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a towel.
I put my hands together. "Cinnamon cookies. My favorite."
"We made enough for everyone," Tara said.
"You guys are the best." I put up my two thumbs.
"Me and the missus, adding flavor to your life," Jackson said, tilting his chef hat.
"Enough with the taglines." Tara hit him with the oven mitts.
On the table sat a bowl of uncooked dough. I dipped my finger to taste it, then it was my turn to be hit with the mitts.
"Ouch." I backed away.
"Wait five minutes. The first patch will be ready," Tara scolded me.
"But I like dough," I whined.
"Get out of my kitchen." She huffed and pointed at the door, and when I laughed, she hit me again.
Later that day, I stood on the front porch with Lillian in my arms. I kissed her on the cheek and handed her over to her mother.
"I hate you for making me do this," Tara said. "I should be with you tomorrow."
"We talked about this, Tara. I need you to be safe."
Oscar barked as Doyle motioned him out of the house while Jackson carried the cats’ crates to his car.
"Take care of them," I told him.
"Sure you don’t want me to stay? Fight a good fight?"
"Nah, tomorrow is for witches, spirits, and Doyle," I grinned. "Now, hurry up, or you’ll miss your plane. Say hi to Mayan for me."
Two days before the eclipse, I booked a flight for my family and Doyle’s parents to Italy. Gerald Sullivan, Cona’s cousin, promised to protect them if things went bad.
Tara got in the car and waved at us from the window. As I watched her drive away, fear settled in my heart.
"We made the right decision," Doyle said, pulling me into a hug.
"I know." I just hope this isn’t goodbye.
***
The following morning, Doyle and I teleported to the Miles’ house, and I was surprised when Kirby opened the door.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"What do you mean? We came over last night."
"We?"
"Come in," he said. "I’ll introduce you to everyone."
From the dining room, a mix of fragrances emanated. Viessa, Vanna, and five other people were sitting around the table, assembling the ingredients for the potion capsules.
"Doyle." Viessa jumped up when she saw him. "Meet our new friends: Joshua, Sara, Ahmed, Mindy, and Cassandra."
"You must be Ms. Blackwood." The youngest of the five stood to greet me. She was a teenage girl wearing a hoodie and glasses. "My name is Cassandra Winbolt. I read your post on the Magic Web, and I’m glad to help."
"My post?" My voice wavered. I don’t remember writing any posts. Is Jivar messing with my head again?
"It’s all right, Echo." Doyle winked at me, and everything became okay.
***
Three nights before the rising, Jivar appeared in my dream and commanded me to perform his ritual. I woke up thinking it was game over, but being a witch was a lot like being a lawyer. Sometimes, I had to look for a loophole.
In the middle of the night, I dragged Doyle to the living room. The full moon glow peeked upon us from the window. He sat on the couch, half-asleep, while I paced and mumbled. "I have something to tell you, but only you can know it. I can’t know it; otherwise, he’ll know it, and it won’t work."
He yawned. "Wha-at?"
"Ugh." I stomped my foot on the floor. "Doyle. You love me, don’t you?"
"I do."
"Then read my mind," I cried out. "Listen to my unspoken words. Finish my sentences."
"Echo, I think you need some sleep." He wiped his eyes.
"That’s the problem. It all happened when I fell asleep."
"All right, all right." He pressed on his temples, seemingly to overcome the waking-up headache. "Tell me what happened when you fell asleep."
"I can’t say."
"You can’t or you won’t?" he asked.
"I can’t," I said with a frown. "Can’t, can’t, can’t."
"Are you embarrassed to tell me?"
"No." I folded my arms. "It’s not like that."
Doyle narrowed his eyes. "Then are we talking about a spell that prevents you from telling me?"
I mouthed the word ‘yes,’ but no voice came out. "I can’t say."
"I’ll assume it is." He paused. "Echo, did Jivar contact you during your sleep?"
I tried to nod, but that too was forbidden. "I can’t say."
"I’ll assume he did," said Doyle. "If I were Jivar and I got a hold of you right before the rising, I would use the Magic of Minds and compel you to either admit your plans or lose on purpose. Is this what happened?"
Thank God he’s so smart. I collapsed into a chair. I wanted to tell Doyle about my grimoire and how Jivar needed me to do his ritual, but I had to settle for his conclusions. At least we were on the same track. "I can’t say."
"In this case, we’ll need a new plan."
"I have one," I cheered, glad to be able to speak. "But no one can know about it except you and Ebba."
"Because we are immune to the Magic of Minds?"
"Yes."
"I see." He nodded. "But how can I make sure that you’re not compelled to tell me all this and that your new plan isn’t a trap?"
"I haven’t considered this." I let my head hang back. "How about I drink a truth potion?"
"Sounds good," he said. "I’ll ask Viessa to brew some in the morning. Now, one problem remains. Once you go to bed, Jivar will get in your head again, and we can’t keep you awake until the rising."
