I drove off the campus and followed the road signs to the highway. Mid-morning sunlight streamed through my windows as I merged onto I-45. Houston’s city skyline loomed in the distance, sleek skyscrapers against a hazy sky. Turning away from the city, I took the exit for Galveston. The drive home gave me time to ponder my conversation with Miranda.
Was it my imagination that she’d seemed uncertain when I’d asked her if Mochazon had given her anything? It seemed risky for him to give her the flower, but perhaps he’d thought it would be safer with her?
I had no idea what the flower would look like in this reality. Earth magic sometimes had a sense of humor. What would be a magical orb in Faythander could turn out to be a giant gobstopper on Earth. I tried to recall if I had seen anything unusual in Miranda’s dorm, but nothing came to mind.
My phone rang, blaring “White and Nerdy” through the car. I let the voicemail pick up. My phone beeped as he left a message. Great. Couldn’t the guy take a hint?
As I crossed the causeway to Galveston Island, a text came through. Even when we were dating he hadn’t contacted me this much. Brent’s insistence nagged at me. I made it across the causeway when the phone rang for the fourth time. Was he stalking me?
The traffic bottlenecked at a stoplight as the phone continued rapping. Finally, I answered.
“Brent,” I said before he could answer, “you can’t call me anymore. We’re not a couple—”
“Olive, listen to me.”
“No! You’ve got to stop calling me.”
“Even if it’s about your mom? I went by her house this morning.”
I paused. “My mom?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, I tried calling her, but she wouldn’t answer, so I finally went over there.”
“What’s the matter? Is she sick?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure? Is there something wrong with her or not?”
“She’s depressed, Olive. She’s really torn up about something, but she won’t talk about it. I’ve never seen her like that before. To be honest, I’m a little scared. I thought you should know. Anyway, you’re right. I won’t call you anymore. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I promise to leave you alone from now on.” He hung up.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. My worst fear had come true. Would I have to do the spellcasting? If I didn’t, her depression would only get worse. Although we’d never seen eye to eye, she was my mother. I couldn’t let her suffer.
For the next few minutes, I tried dialing Mom, but she never answered, so I reluctantly replaced the phone in my pocket. I’d almost made it to the docks. There was a slim chance I could restore the magic and avoid the spellcasting… maybe if I actually found Mochazon and the flower, my mother’s erased memories would stay forgotten.
A group of pelicans sailed along the bridge as I turned off 53rd and onto Harborside Drive. The Gulf waters shimmered in the distance as I drove toward Galveston’s port. Freighter ships stacked with cargo waited along the docks. Cranes rose into the air, carrying metal containers ready to be loaded onto the ships. The clang of machinery came from the docks. Down the road, the wide smokestack of a cruise ship rose into the air. I spotted a parking space near the pier and parked my car.
A stiff sea breeze caught my hair as I exited my car and walked toward the fence separating the parking area from the docks. Rust clung to the metal chain links. A few yards away, I found an opened gate and made my way to the piers.
Blue reflective signs marked each pier. Some piers were used for shipping, others for fishing or boat docks. Far ahead, a row of restaurants took up the rest of the space. Pier thirteen sat a short distance from the parking area. As I walked toward it, I passed a couple of men in hardhats, but they mostly ignored me. The stiff breeze smelled of fish, and I tasted salt on my tongue.
Pier thirteen was a worn wooden dock that jutted out into Galveston Bay. My footsteps thudded against the boards as I made my way to the pier’s end, where blue and orange barnacles grew along the edges. The water splashed against the thick beams supporting the jetty. A few streetlamps had been built along the pier, though I noticed that each light had been busted out. Strange.
Both Chester and Miranda had noted how dark the pier was. I knew of a few things that could bust out those lights—the most obvious being a shotgun—but it would have been much quieter and precise if someone had used a basita. But why shoot out the lights? Was someone trying to hide something?
When I made it to the end of the dock, I spotted a whirlpool churning slowly in the water just off the pier’s edge. It was a small disturbance and would have seemed commonplace had I not felt the magic emanating from its depths. In the center of the whirlpool, the water turned dark gray, as opposed to the brown water swirling around it. Odd. I knelt to get a better look.
Holding my hand over the whirlpool, I let my mind relax and concentrated on the magic. I’d felt it before, so it was easy to place. As I’d suspected, the grayish water wasn’t the result of natural causes, but was the side effect of magic—goblin magic.
Miranda’s story of seeing something moving in the water came to mind, but it would have been too dark for her to have noticed the whirlpool. What was its purpose?
Scanning the dock,
