Cloak, Torn: Book 2 [ON HOLD]

Chapter 21

"Well, the enchantment is still in effect, but it's been a little muddled by the broken strings." Grandmother said the next morning as she fingered the limp harp strings. "It doesn't seem to know what to do with itself, so theoretically if the strings were fused back together..."

"It could work?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. She rubbed the broken ends between her fingers. "The effect of having another spell working on it could mess with the enchantment. I could try a mending spell, but I'd probably have to go a single string at a time."

"And how long would that take?"

Grandmother sighed and straightened up.

"A couple of days. I don't have the kind of energy that I used to, and if I'm working around another spell, especially someone else's, well...it'll be difficult."

"That's okay, Grandmother. We've got time. I think."

I pulled my cloak a little tighter around me at the thought of Jayla's wolves, only a minute away in the forest.

"Do you think I could help?" I asked. "It's a simple spell, right?"

"I'm not sure you know enough about magic yet, Scarlet. It works mainly with your emotions and your ability to direct your energy. That's why apprentices wait until they're eighteen to start their training. They've mostly leveled out in the ways of personality and emotional control by then. Exposure to magic before then... Let me explain it this way. The first spell you cast is called a gateway spell. But that gate only swings one way. Once you let the magic in there is no getting it out again. If you don't have enough control over yourself the magic can seep into your emotions. Whenever you have a particularly powerful emotional surge, the magic can come to a physical manifestation which can result in who knows what kind of chaos. It's called Ether Poisoning. Only practiced magicians and apprentices who receive the proper training can keep themselves from getting it. Frankly, I haven't got the teaching experience, the time, or the patience to handle you as a student. You're too young and too impulsive and I'm not the person to teach you anyway. Ask Mage Reida when you're older."

Were it anyone else I think I might have fought back, but this was Grandmother. If she said no then there was no changing her mind.

"Fine," I said. "But can't I help some other way? I just want to be out of here as quickly as possible. No offense of course."

"I understand. I'll think of something for you to do, but for now you're welcome to do whatever you like."

And I did whatever I liked for two days. It was maddening. I couldn't make the harp fix itself any faster and I couldn't go anywhere interesting until it was done. It was so boring I thought my feet were going to fall off with all the pacing I did. My mind wasn't taking a break either.

Why was everything going so wrong? I was supposed to be a hero, but things weren't turning out like the stories at all. I never thought this was supposed to be easy, but Andrew's death wasn't supposed to happen. Abby and Clef weren't supposed to be lying dead on their cabin floor. I was supposed to be able to save them. I was supposed to win in the end and it seemed like all I was doing was slowly losing every battle I fought.

And the guilt wouldn't go away either. Every night my nightmare came again to douse my cloak in blood, to ring my ears with Andrew's screams and Jayla's hissed lies, and to have Warren rip out my throat. Was Jayla sending it over and over or was it my own imaginings?

I took to distracting myself by visiting the goose. It had calmed down a bit since we'd gotten to Grandmother's house and spent almost every waking moment with Jack. He wouldn't let it out of his sight anymore. He was always rubbing its wings with his fingers, stroking it and whispering things to it with an almost obsessed look in his eyes. As an excuse he said talking to it made it lay more eggs, all of which he kept in a carefully padded basket.