“At least this time, we’re better prepared.” Not only were we wearing proper hiking boots, but I also had water and energy bars in the backpack. I slung it over my shoulder, switched on my flashlight, and resolutely strode toward the track.
It seemed rougher—and the incline steeper—than I remembered. It didn’t take long for the burn in my legs to begin, but I ignored it and strode on resolutely. While my breath quickly became short, sharp pants for air, I noted with at least a little satisfaction that—unlike the last time we’d been here—I didn’t have to stop multiple times. My somewhat haphazard fitness routine was at least having some benefit.
We paused about halfway up to grab some water and munch on a protein bar. I tugged off the coat and tied it around my waist, but left the sweater on. The night was bitter, and I didn’t want the sweat chilling on my skin. The last thing I needed was a cold right now.
The scrub and trees became much denser the farther up the mountain we got. Unlike the forests around Castle Rock, this area didn’t have much in the way of old mines or tailings. It was so quiet that the sharp sound of our puffing echoed through the trees.
Eventually, the path leveled off. The trees around us were thick and tall, and shut out both the stars and the moon’s waning light, leaving the vast areas not lit by the flashlights in deep shadow.
But shadows weren’t the only things here.
There was magic.
Wild magic.
Katie’s magic.
She was waiting for us.
Chapter Eight
The sting of energy got stronger the closer we drew to the clearing. While this wellspring was far younger than the other, it was giving every indication it would end up being as powerful, if not more so, than the older one.
From up ahead came the soft glimmer of lights—wisps of wild magic, drifting on the breeze. Waiting for me, as Katie waited for me. My fingers twitched in response, and something within began to hum, as if in answer to unheard music.
We reached the edge of the forest and stopped. The clearing wasn’t very large, but it was strewn with rocks and other debris from the landslip that had taken out a good portion of the cliff directly opposite. At the base of this was an ankle-deep rock well. Water bubbled up from a seam near the cliff’s base, lapped over the edge of the basin, and then wound its way down the gentle slope, where it would no doubt join forces with the stream further down the mountain.
The tiny well was the source of the wild magic, and the air above it shimmered with its force. It had certainly ramped up since the last time we’d been here, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that had anything to do with Katie’s presence.
I raised a hand; the tiny threads of magic danced toward me and then curled around my fingers and wrists. They were as fragile as moonbeams and yet pulsed with power. Within that power was a sense of acknowledgment. Of kinship—and it was one that had nothing to do with Katie.
It should have frightened me—and I suppose in the saner portions of my mind it did—but this wild power was part of my being and coming here felt like a homecoming.
Your whole body hums came Belle’s awed comment. You’re totally in tune with the music and power of this place.
I glanced at her. Her eyes glowed with echoes of the energy that pulsed through me. It’s not Katie who won’t let me go. It’s the wild magic itself.
Because you’re a part of it.
I nodded. The origin of my wild magic might not be this wellspring, but it all comes from the one source deep within the earth.
The delicate threads of power began tugging me forward. Katie’s doing rather than the wild magic’s.
I’ll wait here, Belle said.
You’re safe from the wild magic. It won’t ever hurt you.
A smile touched her lips. I know, but I think it better at least one of us remains fully aware of what is going on around us.
Good point. Just because I believed we were safe from Clayton for the next couple of days didn’t mean we should throw caution to the wind—especially when there was a murderous ghoul roaming around the reservation. It might have kept its kills to newlyweds, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t broaden its tastes if the opportunity presented itself.
I switched off the flashlight and shoved it into my pocket as I stepped into the clearing. The gentle moonbeams spun around me, their music echoing through my mind, the notes alien and yet not. It was a sound I’d heard intermittently and distantly over the years, and long ignored.
It was through that sound—through the power of it—that I could now see Katie. Her form was ghostly, but she very much looked like a younger version of Ciara.
Standing behind her was a pale, wispy figure. I knew who it was without his features being clear—her husband, Gabe, who’d died here during the process of melding Katie’s soul to the wellspring.
“You have questions?” Katie’s voice was soft—melodious.
“Yes, about the wild magic and what it’s doing.”
Her gaze swept me; I suspect she missed little. She motioned toward the wellspring. “Let’s sit. I like being close to our energy source.”
‘Our’ meaning not just hers and Gabe’s, but also mine. Interestingly, the closer we got to the wellspring, the more Gabe’s body solidified. He reached out and pressed his hand against Katie’s spine, and the two shared a glance. The sheer joy and utter love so evident in their faces had me blinking back tears.
No wonder she liked being close to the wellspring—it enabled the two of them to physically interact.
I crossed my legs and sat in front of the basin. Its energy was fierce and skittered across my skin like thousands of tiny fireflies, a warm rush
