Evan used the opportunity to attempt his gate. I felt the tingle of magic once more, soon followed by a connection to the Otherworld. With that connection, my earlier need for the Thorn Land and Rowan Land flared up with startling intensity. They were so close ... but still out of my reach. I bit my lip and forced myself to stay still. Despite the connection, Evan was taking my advice and sending his senses farther, forming an opening to the Underworld. The ghost snarled as he recognized what Evan was doing. A ghost could come back from the Otherworld sometimes, but from the realm of death, there was no return.
Knowing it was now or never, the ghost struck again. Evan was ready and dodged the blow, still swinging the candlestick defensively. I felt the connection to the Underworld waver, but he was just barely able to keep hold. His near loss was a sign of his inexperience. Neither Candace nor I would’ve lost a gate that established. Still, he’d pulled it off and began the banishing words. The ghost attacked again, and Evan shifted—realizing too late it had been a feint. Evan moved in the wrong direction, and the ghost quickly picked up a wooden chair and threw it hard at Evan. The chair hit its mark, knocking Evan to the floor once again. The wand fell from his hand, instantly dissolving the connection.
The wand rolled to a central spot in the room, and I moved without even thinking. The ghost was advancing on Evan. I grabbed the wand and quickly cast an opening to the Underworld. As the magic poured through me, I nearly gasped. I hadn’t realized just how long I’d gone without it. Shamanic magic didn’t have the addictiveness of gentry magic, but it still had a sweet, pleasurable feeling I’d missed.
The ghost turned to me in surprise, not having expected me to offer a challenge. He abandoned Evan but wasn’t fast enough to reach me before I spoke the banishing and sent him on. The ghost dissolved before our eyes, screaming in fury as it finally went where it should have long ago. Soon the screams were gone too, and we were alone. I hurried over to Evan, who was already getting to his feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously.
I almost laughed. “Me? You’re the one who just got tossed around by a ghost. Look at your arm.” One of the chair legs had caught his arm at a bad angle, leaving a bloody gash. It likely wouldn’t need stitches but was still ugly.
“I’m fine,” he said. He righted the chair and gave it a quick survey for damage. There was none, meaning he wouldn’t get in trouble with Wanda. “I’ve never seen a banishing that fast. I don’t even think Aunt Candy can do it.”
“It just takes practice,” I assured him, not wanting to make a big deal of it. Evan knew I had a shamanic background, but I didn’t want the extent of my power made that obvious. “Come on—we should get home.” I was already looking back on what I’d done with regret. In that moment, there’d been no question. I’d had to help Evan. But in doing so, I’d exposed myself.
Candace’s grim face confirmed as much when we got back to her place. “That ghost won’t tell any tales in the Underworld, at least,” she said with a sigh. “And if he was tied to that house, it’s unlikely he had contact with anyone who might be after you.”
“That’s what I was hoping,” I said.
“Still. You shouldn’t have done it, if only because you and those little ones could have been hurt.” Her gaze lifted toward the kitchen, where Charles was bandaging up Evan. “He’s got a lot to learn, but he’s tougher than he looks.”
“I know,” I said, feeling terrible. The ride home had given me a lot of time to consider my actions. One of the twins chose that moment to kick, just in case it wasn’t obvious that I’d put them at risk. “I just reacted. He was in trouble, and the wand was right there.”
Candace’s look was almost sympathetic as she rested a hand on my arm. “I know. And I know that’s your nature—especially if you’re anything like Roland. That man never did know how to stay out of trouble. But for now, you’ve got to let go. Next time you fight a ghost, it may tell the ones who are after you where you’re at.”
I nodded meekly. Further conversation was put on hold as Charles and Evan rejoined us. Evan stopped in the doorway to the living room and pointed at the TV set. “That’s where you’re from, isn’t it?”
I turned and saw a news report on a grocery store robbery in Tucson. The security camera footage was spotty, frequently going to static, but it showed a few bizarre shots of what looked like items flying off the shelves. Eyewitness reports were equally odd, and if I hadn’t known it was completely impossible, I would’ve thought the store had been hit by a ghost. But a ghost had no use for money—or, in this case, food, since that’s what had been stolen.
“Weird,” I said, once the story ended. If some other type of Otherworldly creature had been involved, I had no doubt Roland would deal with it. Knowing that made me feel even more ineffectual. Roland had theoretically retired, but my various actions over the last year had forced him to take on the role of an active shaman once more.
“It is,” remarked Candace. “But it hardly fits the usual—”
Her jaw dropped as a low rumbling sound filled the house. All of us stared at each other in confusion. Another rumble sounded, just as I saw the living room windows light up. My senses were suddenly flooded, seconds before the others realized what was happening.
“It’s raining,” exclaimed Evan. He hurried to the door, the rest of us right behind him.
Out on the porch, we watched in wonder as rain poured down in sheets while lightning ripped apart the sky. A fierce wind picked up, blowing the rain at us, but nobody cared. Charles laughed and stepped off the porch, holding his hands skyward.
“This’ll fix my garden right up,” he declared.
Evan turned to me in amazement. “You were right. She said this would happen, Aunt Candy. This afternoon—the sky was clear blue, and she swore there’d be a storm.”
Candace smiled and turned to watch Charles, oblivious to the true nature of my insight. “I guess some people just have a knack for the weather.”
“You have no idea,” I murmured.
Chapter 9
Despite our conclusions that I probably hadn’t raised any notice in the Otherworld, I still spent the next week on pins and needles. I jumped at shadows, expecting gentry assassins to come bursting through my window at any moment. Candace played it cool and casual as usual, but I noticed she too was more watchful than before. One evening, a friend of hers came by, a wizened woman with an accent so thick I could barely understand her. Candace claimed the friend was visiting for tea, but later, I noticed them walking around the yard. I never asked Candace about it, but I suspected her friend was a witch who had laid some protective wards for us.
My worries continued to be unfounded, and that slow, easy life resumed. Even doing customer service for Candace became more comfortable, and I simply learned to take the silliness in stride. Probably the part of my life that continued to bother me most was my longing for my kingdoms. I would often wake up in the middle of the night with a burning in my chest and tears in my eyes. I’d remember the clean, crisp perfume of the deserts of the Thorn Land or the soft, rolling hills of the Rowan Land. Most of the need was still on my own side, but every once in a while, I’d sense a faint whisper, as though the lands were starting to miss me too.
To my surprise, I also found myself missing Dorian. After finding out I was pregnant, I’d seen him almost every week in the Otherworld. Not having his sarcasm and wit around anymore seemed weird, leaving an empty spot within me. Weirder still was that, aside from that last idyllic week, he and I hadn’t really spent much tender or recreational time together. It had always been business, making plans for our kingdoms and figuring out how best to thwart Maiwenn and Kiyo. Nonetheless, I’d simply gotten used to having him around. No matter our personal differences, we worked well as a team.