Pieces of a Whole

Stopping at the red light, I glanced at my GPS again to be sure once more that I had entered the coordinates in correctly. Turning back to the near empty street, I sighed turning up the a/c. For a late summer night it was hot enough to feel like sun was still beating down on you, the cool blast of air woke my tired senses as my internal temperature began to cool stepping down I sped up the road following the directions coming from the system.

I knew as I took the last turn though that I wasn’t going to need the GPS. I could feel what I had come looking for before I had even stopped the vehicle. Pausing, I shook my head clearing it of any doubts; I couldn’t afford doubts not now, not knowing what lay ahead in the cemetery.

Why did it always have to be a cemetery? Grumbling, I grabbed my phone and pulled the keys from the ignition I slid out of the escalade and started past the gates. Their guardhouses empty expect for a few spider webs and shadows.

Rolling my eyes at the need to hum Halloween by The Creepshow, I started up the darkened drive, following my instincts instead of my eyes as I weaved past gravestones of all sizes. Some were taken care of others were old, withered and on occasion, crumbling. Flicking the light quickly over the ground as I passed stone after stone, I kept an eye out for tree branches or rocks lying about; one thing I didn’t need was trying to come with an excuse for scrapes, bruises or worse broken bones before work.

Stopping by a tree, I did a small circle in place trying to find my sense again. I’d had no trouble finding the cemetery, no trouble walking through following what little remained of my magic but it was gone. There was no more tingle, no sense of smell, no noise; I had to be close by then. The book would give off enough power that everything would still, in fact it was a wonder I could see anything at all. Turning once more in place, I stuck my foot in a hole and dropped to my ass.

“Great just fucking perfect,” grumbling, I swore standing to try and brush the worst of the dirt and leaves from my pants. Pausing mid brush, I snapped up straight watching as the area in front of me cleared revealing a giant oak tree that hadn’t been there a moment before.

Stepping closer I placed my hand to its trunk, shuddering at the strength of this obviously ancient tree. If I was a betting woman I would have placed it about four hundred years maybe more. The power radiating from the worn bark was tantalizing, intoxicating. Running my fingers lightly behind as
I moved around the tree, my eyes traveling from the gnarled roots to the gently swaying branches at the top.

Back where I had started, I hesitated. This beautiful, ancient and weathered tree held what I wanted the question remaining was where?

“Alright Liz, if you had lived back during the hunts where would you have placed your book?” snorting, I rolled my eyes at myself. The answer was simply – under the roots as close to or at the very center of the tree. Glancing at my jeans, I shrugged I would have to change for work anyways. Dropping to my knees I crawled slowly around the tree again, flash light aimed at the base looking for some sign. “Is it too much to ask for a little,” trailing off as I focused on an interact knot I ran my finger tip along the pattern carved into it.

Reaching inwards, I groaned as once again I failed to reach my fire. Shaking my head, I sat back finger still on the knot.

How was I supposed to convince a tree I was a Guardian if I couldn’t use my bloody powers? The only thing I wanted was to reunite the book with its sisters; to bring the five together again and that desire was taking much longer than I had anticipated. This one had taken me over a year to hunt down and that was all by my lonesome, since the other girls, once we’d reached Boston had pretty much given up on their magic. Yes, they still checked on everyone occasionally by reaching for our connection but they didn’t use them anymore, they didn’t even talk about them.

Thanks to my actions, I felt uncomfortable burdening them with the consequences of my decisions. How was it fair for me to share and have them feel it was something they could have changed? Because it wasn’t anyone’s but mine and I was living with the taunting, just out of reach; hollow reminder of what I could do.

Sighing, I pushed my hand down on the knot rising to my feet or at least attempting to as my hand sank into the wood to my elbow. Scrambling back down, I inched forward my other hand extending into the hole a smile taking over my face.

Whispering silent thanks, I ran my hand along the inside of the area seeking the book. Brushing the binding, I almost squealed in happiness as I gripped it carefully pulling it to the opening so I could remove it and hold it, the way I had first held Redemption; the first touch of a new book was always the best no matter how many times you read it; the smell of the paper within as your fingers turned page after page.

Staring down at the cover, I looked back up at the tree only it was gone and with it the hiding place of whatever book it was that lay in my hands.

Moving quickly, I stood as the dawn approached and ran back to my car not stopping till I stood beside it, the sun glistening off the hood beside me. Giggling in excitement, I climbed in and started the vehicle, putting the book beside me on the passenger seat before backing out and starting back into town; to work.

In twelve hours I could head home to Ipswich and reunite the three books, a moment I knew would make the thirteen month search worth every second, and every doubt.

This was my heritage and if I had to look for the remaining two on my own, I would.