Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
I have no appetite this morning, so after the coffee with Daniels, the conversation switching over to more genial topics, I decide to skip breakfast and head to the classroom. I have no idea if Brom is in my energy class this morning, but I must speak to Kat.
Though the sun has risen, the morning is still dark with heavy clouds when I walk to the classrooms. The tone of the campus has changed in such a short time, summer surrendering completely to fall. The chill in the air is damp, the kind that seeps through your coat and lives in your bones, and I have to shake it off many times before I get inside the building.
To my delight, I see Kat waiting outside the classroom’s locked door.
“Kat,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse, echoing faintly in the hall.
“Crane,” she says, and to my relief, there’s just as much desperation in her voice as there is in mine.
I stride toward her and embrace her without any thought, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight, breathing in her smell of sun-soaked meadows, letting it fill me with light. She lets out a soft sigh that warms my heart, and I pull back, placing my hands on her cheeks, searching her face. She’s as beautiful as ever, but there are dark circles beneath her azure eyes, and her skin looks paler than normal.
“Are you alright?” I ask. And then I catch myself. Should I be touching her like this now that Brom is back? Is whatever we had, whatever hint of relationship that was about to bloom like a rose, now doomed to wither on the stem?
“I’m sorry, I should…” I take my hands off her sweet face, but she reaches out and grabs my wrists, holding them.
“Please,” she implores. “I need you right now. I need to talk to you.”
“And I need to talk to you.”
And I need to be with you. I need to know if you’re still mine.
I hear the door to the hall open, and she drops her grip on my wrists, and I automatically take a step back from her. A couple of other students file in, and before they have a chance to see us together, I quickly reach for my keys and unlock the classroom door, ushering Kat in.
“Come see me after class,” I whisper to her.
Of course, as one student passes me, he gives me a smirk, like he knows exactly what’s going on between us. The humorous thing is he really has no idea. Even I don’t know myself.
It turns out that Brom isn’t in this class, which is for the best since he’s a distraction on his own, and together with Kat, I wouldn’t be able to get anything done. So I’m somehow able to push the mysteries of him behind me and focus on our subject for the day, which happens to be how energy manipulation can be aided by spells, crystals and rituals, including blood magic.
“Blood magic,” I explain to the class, “has everything to do with fusing energy together. We’ve practiced with using our energy to influence others and how to block others from using that energy against us. Now, I want to talk about fusing one’s energy with another so that you are connected. Think about fungi. Your biology classes should be touching on how marvelous fungi are.”
I notice a few eyes glazing over at that, but I push on. “Mushrooms are connected to each other through underground pathways. What happens to one affects another. As witches, we know they can communicate with each other. This is what blood magic does when it’s applied to each other and our energy. Spilled blood fuses us together, connecting us on another plane, one we can’t see unless you’re looking through the veils. With the right spells and incantations, we’re able to become one with another, our energy combining to become something extremely powerful.”
At that, I feel Kat’s eyes on me. Perhaps she’s thinking the same thing as I am. If we practiced blood magic on Brom, is it possible that we could break through whatever blockages he has in his memories? After all, I feel the reason that I’m able to retain my memories of the school when I pass the gates is due to my connection with Kat.
She gives me a little nod. Something to think about.
Too much to think about.
I get through the rest of the class, and I can tell the students are relieved that I didn’t ask any of them to take out a knife and start cutting themselves up.
When class is over, Kat goes straight to my desk. “Do you have a class after this?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. But I know you do.”
“It’s just philosophy,” she says. “I’m skipping it. Meet me at the stables when you’re ready.”