Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Juniper, what are you doing?”
“I need to break these open to see what’s inside.”
Adriel closed the distance. “You’re going to smash your fingers. Let me help.” She took a stone in both hands and tightened her grip. It snapped open as if she were cracking an egg.
“Holy crap.”
Unfortunately, the insides were not what she needed. “Can you break open the rest of them?”
Adriel cracked open several more stones, but none of them had anything more than layers of useless matter inside. She needed something powerful.
“We have to find a crystal.”
They dug until the sun faded behind the trees. It seemed like a useless effort until Adriel gasped. “How about this one?”
Minerals sparkled from inside the broken rock Adriel held, and Juniper scrambled to her feet. “That’s perfect!”
Taking the crystal inside, she washed it off to reveal a mixture of calcite and grey amethyst in the crevices. She set the crystal in the divot of the burner.
“Let’s hope this works because I’m out of ideas after this.” Calcite was great for amplifying energy, and amethyst was known to open the chakra around the third eye. Taking a deep breath, she held up her hands and called upon Spirit. “Insignia.”
A flame caught, flickering from the gemstone, and Juniper laughed. “Nobody move!” Dane and Adriel held back as Juniper blew a soft breath on the flame, and it doubled in size. “I did it!”
“I’ll start crushing the tomatoes.”
Juniper continued to focus on the stove. The books explained how water was made up of memory. It was transient in form, converting from ice to vapor and able to undergo extreme heat as it traveled through the earth and air. If she tapped into the water’s memory, she should be able to heat it to a boil. It was basic alchemy and something she’d watched her Aunt Venus do many times before.
Placing her hands on the side of the cool pot, she shut her eyes and poured her energy into the water. “Memóriám liquoris calefactus sum. Memóriám liquoris calefactus sum. Memóriám liquoris calefactus sum.”
The motion around her stilled, and the kitchen silenced. Dane and Adriel were on the other side of the table.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” Juniper frowned. “I…felt something.” She refocused on the pot and continued chanting. “Memóriám liquoris calefactus sum—There it is again!”
“What are you talking about?” Dane frowned.
“I feel something—or someone—touching me.”
“Where?”
“On my hand. It’s not a bad feeling. It’s like…an energy. Like they’re trying to help me.”
“We’ve already got an immortal, a hybrid, and a witch,” Dane said with a shrug. “Sure, why not bring ghosts into it?”
Was it a ghost? If it was, the spirit wasn’t trying to hurt her. On the contrary, she felt it wanted to help her.
“It’s offering me its energy.” Juniper drew in a deep breath and exhaled, refocusing on the pot of water as she chanted once more. “Memóriám liquoris calefactus sum.”
Adriel and Dane chimed in, and they found a rhythm. Harmonizing, as if singing, they chanted and started to dance, much like the indigenous people did when they called upon the rain.
Ruth was drawn into the kitchen by noise and energy. “Sing with us, Ruth,” Adriel invited, and the older woman joined in.
Juniper laughed as the water's energy vibrated with the gentle bubbles that preceded a boil. “Keep going!”
They chanted louder and louder until she yanked her hands back, the metal now too hot to touch.
Could she do it without touching the metal? How powerful were these words?
The air buzzed around her, and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A surge of power flowed through her veins and streamed from her fingertips.
“Do you feel it? It’s everywhere!”
Her brain hummed, and her heart raced as vitality powered through her like a live wire, something electric shooting through every nerve of her body, moving through her veins and pumping into her heart faster than cocaine. A dome of power formed over the kitchen, siphoning more energy from outside.
Juniper became a great maestro of the elements, conducting an orchestra of energy that built to such a ringing crescendo she could no longer hear the others chanting—only the intense buzzing around her as the water trembled and the pot rattled on the stove.
The steady buzz rang in her ears as her pulse vibrated. Faster and harder, energy pumped through her veins. It pulled from the earth and traveled from the soles of her feet, where it pulsed into every muscle of her body. They generated so much power she seemed weightless as if she could float through gravity and time.
Steam billowed from the surface of the water as tiny bubbles raced to the top.
“June?”
The pull was magnetic and delightful. She couldn’t look away.
“Uh, Juniper?”
The glass trembled in the window frames and the doors jerked at the hinges. Invisible hands—dozens—pressed into her, lending enough power to lift her hair off her shoulders. The water started to hiss.