Page 29 of The Mist of Stars
As my mind returns to reality, I stare down at the necklace. It feels important, so I place it into my pocket, leave the kitchen, and go into the basement to find a board.
Ten minutes later, the window is covered up and Aislin is calling out for me to get my butt into the living room so we can begin the spell.
When I enter the room, Aislin is sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa where Gemma is lying. Laylen is lighting the last of the candles that have been placed around the room, and somesort of leafy herb has been sprinkled all over the carpet. Beside Aislin is her spell book, and on her lap is a wooden box.
“What’s in the box?” I inquire as I approach the coffee table.
She glances at me while clutching the box tighter in her arms. “Stardust.”
I’m taken aback. “Stardust? That stuff is dangerous.” And reminds me way too much of the star dreams I’ve been having.
Another coincidence? I don’t know what to think anymore.
“We’re using it to channel energy,” Aislin explains as she sets the box aside on the table. “No one has to touch it.”
“That’s good, since there’s a chance it could kill us.” Shaking my head, I sit down on the edge of the sofa. “I don’t like this.”
“Well, you’re the one who insisted I do the spell,” she snaps as she opens the lid of the box. Inside is sparkling dust that glimmers iridescently against the candlelight.
In a daze, I reach for it, as if it’s begging me to touch it?—
“Alex!” Aislin shouts. “What’re you doing?”
I pull my hand away. “Nothing. Look, let’s get this done. I’m sorry I’m being a jerk. I know I asked you to do the spell.”
She eyes me over dubiously before fixing her attention on the spell book.
“You okay?” Laylen asks as he pockets the lighter.
I nod dismissively, though I’m not sure I am.
Laylen knows me well enough that his skepticism about the truthfulness of my response is shadowed across his face, along with the flickering glow of the candles.
It’s grown dark outside, and shadows possess the room in an eerie way. It almost feels like we’re about to perform a séance, which reminds me of the alleged ghost Gemma saw. Ghosts are real and everything, yet they’re rare enough that I question if that’s what she saw. The guy could’ve been a faerie with a glamour on him.
I crack my knuckles against the side of my leg to let my stress out. It doesn’t work, and I keep fidgeting as Aislin prepares for the spell.
“Put your hand on her forehead and close your eyes,” she finally tells me then extends her hand toward me. “Then take my hand.”
“Do you need me to do anything else?” Laylen asks as he moves closer to us.
Wavering, Aislin glances over her shoulder at him. “Keep an eye on things, and make sure no other extinct monsters wander in here.”
He nods then positions himself near the window, peering out into the darkness that occasionally lights up with a blue blaze of lightning.
I place my hand on Gemma’s forehead, again noticing how alarmingly cold her skin is. Then I put my hand in Aislin’s.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” she tells me with a nervous exhale.
“I’m good.” I hope.
Fear usually isn’t something I feel. I had to break that out of me a long time ago because my father used to scare me as a tactic to get what he wanted. Learning not to be afraid of him—or at least numbing myself to it—helped me gain control of my life.
As I wait, I hold my breath while Aislin begins to chant.
“Stellis hic mentes et animas connectat, se invicem in tenebris et luce videant.” She repeats it over and over again until her voice is a hushed whisper. And then it becomes nonexistent.
That’s when I open my eyes.