Crescent Marked: StarHaven Sanctuary Book One Read online

Startled, I yanked my hands back, pulling on his fur in the process, while scrambling to gain control of my wayward daydreams. “Sorry, I was just trying to be sure I was ready. And I am kind of surprised you don't have doggy breath.”

  Mortified at what had just come out of my lips, I slapped my hand over my mouth. If anyone had ever been unsure about whether canines could look incredulous, they can. Oh, so well. Their eyebrows can raise just as obviously as those on any human face. My embarrassment at being caught having less than pure thoughts about a wolf immediately replaced itself with the humiliation of having been outright rude.

  He sat silently watching me for a minute before bursting out laughing. His mirth echoed through my head. His hilarity at the situation drove him to act like an actual wolf, flopping onto his side and making chuffling sounds that could only be described as doggy laughter.

  “Are you quite finished?” I harrumphed at him in the haughtiest tone I could manage.

  “You should have seen your face!” he hooted with laughter as he forced the words.

  “That's it. I'm going to turn you into a guinea pig for real now.”

  “Oh no, anything but that...” He returned to sit in front of me, taking up the same position as before.

  Taking a handful of fur, I gave it a little yank. “Hey. Pay attention.” I winked at him. “Let's get on with this, shall we?”

  I could still feel him shaking with laughter as he tried to hold it back. My head tilted forward, and I kept a stranglehold on my imagination as I touched my forehead to his. The words to the practiced spell fell from my lips naturally as I reached out to find the information I sought. The first attempt netted me nothing but blackness.

  “Nothing. I'll need to try again, but I think I need a second.”

  “No rush. And it doesn't have to happen today, remember that. No pressure.”

  “That's nice of you to say, but in reality I don't think time is on our side. That evil spirit, whatever it is. will only continue to grow stronger. I need to get it right. Let's try again.”

  So we tried again. And again. And then again. By the fourth attempt I had managed to carve out a path that led me to what I needed to see, the next step would be to understand it.

  “What about the spell you practiced to use at the temple if we needed it, to see things you might not otherwise see? Can you combine the two of them?”

  “Well, I can definitely try. That's an excellent idea. Let's see where it gets us.”

  Ignoring the headache forming in my frontal lobe, I leaned forward once more. As our foreheads met once more, I barely needed to expend any effort to get to the place where the spell had sunk itself into his psyche. Once there, I switched the words, and began chanting the ones that he had suggested. Over and over I repeated them, watching in awe as the tangle of information slowly made itself clear to me.

  Bits and pieces floated about, many of them making perfect sense. But dark holes also filled the space, places that no matter how hard I focused, I could not break through their secrets. My eyes opened as I sighed in frustration to find him staring back at me.

  “Leah. Your nose is bleeding. Are you hurt? Was it some sort of spell to harm you?”

  “No,” I responded. “I think I just went too far. Operating above my pay grade, ya know? My brain and body decided they've had enough.” I wiped the offending blood on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I'll be fine.”

  “What did you see? Did you learn how to help me? Us?”

  “I managed to get some of it. But I think to truly understand the curse I need to go to a stream. I kept getting glimpses of running water, and riverbanks. The curse is somehow tied to a stream. I've got a good base of information though, and once I can find the stream, I think it will give me the rest of the pieces to the puzzle.”

  “There is only one stream that runs through the sanctuary. It begins on the far eastern side, where there is a small mountain range, really just one mountain and a couple of smaller peaks. There is a waterfall, and it is the birthplace of the stream. The stream then runs across almost the entire length of the peninsula and empties into the ocean at the northwest corner.”

  “Well, I guess that narrows our options then. I need to see it. Can you show me where it is?”

  Isaiah started to shake his head, and his shoulders dropped. Then he straightened up. “All of the packs tend to avoid it, but I can take you if you think there isn't any other way.”

  His hesitation swamped me. “You can just tell me where it is, if you want. You don't have to go. But why do the wolves avoid it?”

  Eyes closed, he sat quietly for a few seconds. “I can't remember,” he answered when he opened his eyes again. “I don't know why, that is just how it has been for a long time.”

  “Okay, well, I can find it if you tell me where to go. I doubt I will have to go all the way to the waterfall, since I didn't see one in any of the visions I got of the curse.”

  “I can't let you go alone. Follow me. It's not a terribly far walk from here, and we have plenty of daylight left.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “The straightest line there has no cleared pathway, but it shouldn't be too hard if you follow me. That is, if you can trust a guinea pig not to get you lost in the forest.” The irony in his tone made me smirk.

  Before I could catch myself, I swatted him lightly on the rump. And a very muscular rump it happened to be. “Very funny.” Oh my gosh, I was admiring the physical characteristics of a dog. What the hell was wrong with me?

  He yelped and pretended to run away. “OW!” He circled me as we walked, whining and pretending to be injured.

  “I'm telling you, I will learn a spell to turn you into a toad if you leave me stranded in these woods all alone!” His antics made me laugh and I couldn't help but think what fun he might be in human form.

  Sounds of the water rushing in the stream bed reached my ears long before I could see it. The gurgling sounds told me that this area was not a calm babbling brook, but more of a rushing river in spite of its moniker of “stream,” at least at this section. Isaiah's footsteps slowed. The closer we crept, the slower his feet moved. An oppressive feeling hung in the air. Every breath I took felt like I was trying to suck in oil instead of oxygen.

  The blue waters rushed over smooth river pebbles, the water so clear I could see right to the bottom. Sand flanked the banks, running right up until it met the trees. While the occasional leaf floated along on the current, there was no other detritus to be seen within its water. No sticks or water plants, not even a fish. In spite of the outward beauty, something ominous clung to the waterway.

  “What's wrong with this place?” I asked him in a whisper, as if something in the forest might have ears and be listening to my words.

  “This is how the stream has felt for years. Any time we get near it. It used to beckon us, trying to entice us to drink of its waters. After a while it began driving us away. At one time, when I was pretty small, it used to be the place we came to have picnics and play in the water. I can't remember exactly when that changed, but it changed overnight, and has been this way for years.”

  “I'm going to check it out. You should wait here, just in case.”

  He followed me to the edge of the water anyway, as I knew that he would. The water itself looked innocent enough. As I knelt down to touch it, I felt his teeth clamp on to my sleeve as he pulled me backwards.

  “Don't touch it. It might only be harmful to wolves, but what if it does something bad to you too? We need you to be whole.”

  “I don't think it would hurt me. I'm not a shifter, so it can't block my ability to change. But I will wait until I get more information, just to be sure. Better safe than sorry.”

  He paced along the bank, peering into the woods on the other side occasionally, while I tried to find clues as to what might be happening with the stream. Deciding that I'd seen all that was possible with the naked eye, I prepared to do the spell I'd practiced for use at the temple.

  “I w
ant to try the spell for things I wouldn't notice otherwise. I'm going to sit here and close my eyes. Can you keep watch for me, please? Just in case, the last thing I want is to be caught off-guard if trouble shows up.”

  “Of course, you don't even need to ask. I've got your back. And your front, too.”

  Settling myself in the dry sand, a few feet back from the water's edge, I began focusing on the words of the spell and the information I needed. My witchy sight, as I had begun calling it, played images against the backs of my eyelids, almost like a movie playing in real time. The problem was, it was like a poorly recorded mish mash of events.

  A figure stood at the water's edge, chanting. Their form distorted by the cloak they wore, with its hood up over their head, hid even the sex of the person, preventing me from knowing if I was looking at a male or female. Only the small stature led me to think female. The blurring of the image made it impossible to recognize, but their actions were obvious. Removing a small vial or bottle from either their pocket or a bag at their side, they removed the lid and poured a substance into the river. The chanting continued until the entire contents had been emptied into the water.

  Once the liquid washed downstream, the waters changed. They morphed from what you would expect a stream running through a forest to look like, filled with sticks, leaves and animals, to the crystal clear waters I saw before me. Vapors shaped loosely like the humanoid figure rose from the surface and then sank back under, taunting any who came near.

  As I sat trying to unravel the curse, I paid no mind to the misty figures, until it was too late. One of them had wandered close enough to make contact with me, latching on. It broadcast its intention loud and clear. To steal my energy and drag me to the stream, carrying me away. Struggling to open my eyes, I couldn't break the hold it had on me. My body felt leaden and unable to function. My brain grappled to make sense of what was happening.

  Fear poured through my veins. Why didn't Isaiah do something? Could he not see I struggled right before his eyes? Desperate, I reached out to speak to his mind, instead of trying to use my voice.

  I felt his surprise as I screamed for help. Blackness edged my vision. I couldn't make my muscles obey the commands to fight, to get up and run, to do something. The last thing I remembered was hearing Isaiah's voice telling me to hold on. But I couldn't hold on anymore.

  A sharp pain in my forehead pulled me from unconsciousness. Blinking away the double vision, I rubbed my face, confused about where I was and why I lay on the forest floor. Angry chattering filled the air above me, interspersed with deep growls. Rubbing my forehead, I tried to focus on my new surroundings.

  “Uh, what the hell is happening here?”

  Isaiah returned to my side immediately. “Oh, thank goodness you're conscious. I didn't think you were ever going to wake up.”

  “Where are we?” Up in the tree sat a pair of chipmunks, chattering loudly. One held a pine cone in its tiny paws. “Were those critters throwing pine cones at me?”

  “I'm sorry, I tried to stop them, but they are way out of reach.” He turned toward them and growled once more.

  “It's okay, I think that's what finally brought me around. And I am almost certain they are the same ones I saw the first day we arrived, and then again in my aunt's attic somehow.”

  Pulling myself into a sitting position, I winced as my lower back protested at the movement. My head ached and my vision still hadn't returned to normal. I relayed everything I could remember to Isaiah at his request, trying not to leave out any of the sketchy details. When I finished, he paused before responding.

  “It was the strangest thing. You were sitting there all peaceful and calm. It was taking a while, but since you didn't seem distressed, I just waited. Then all of a sudden I could hear you screaming in my head. I couldn't see or feel anything, but assumed the stream must be the source of the problem, so I drug you as far from it as I could. You're probably going to feel some bumps and bruises, so I'm sorry. In this form I can't carry you very gently.”

  I looked up at him, since he towered over me when we were both in a sitting position, and sighed. “Don't be sorry, I appreciate the rescue. It's a crazy hard spell to understand, especially for someone like me, who has limited experience. I need to go back and read through my aunt's books. She had to have known that something was wrong with the stream and made notes about it somewhere. I at least have a good idea of what I'm looking for now.”

  The web of magic was complex and difficult to unravel. More research would be needed before I could even attempt to break the curse.

  “It's getting dark; we need to hurry back. You were out for quite a while before the little pine cone pitchers came along. I couldn't leave you alone on the ground, but I was beginning to worry we were going to need help. I'm okay out here at night, but I don't want you to be out so deep in the woods. Aimee's house is safe. Out here could be dangerous. Some of the wolves have been trapped in their animal forms for a long time and aren't always easy to reason with.”

  He let me lean against him to get off the ground, and I grimaced at the sharp pain that shot through my hip. The walk back would seem ten times longer than it really was, of that I had no doubt. The pair of chipmunks ran from tree to tree, shadowing us the entire way. I owed them a reward of some kind for saving my bacon, even if their methods left a little to be desired.

  Isaiah stopped short of the clearing, saying he'd be sure I got to the door before taking off. My little rodent friend’s ran ahead of me, taking cover under the back deck. With one last look his way, and a smile, I left Isaiah in the forest to return to the house.

  My aunt's pantry had no nuts that I could find, but Ritz crackers seemed like a reasonable treat for my saviors and I carried a small handful outside.

  “Hey guys? If you're out here, I brought you a snack. A little thank you for helping me out back there. I really appreciate it.”

  They didn't appear, so I set the crackers on the side table next to the porch swing and went back inside. Hopefully they would discover the treats even if they didn't understand or hear my words. My mother entered the kitchen from the hall.

  “I thought I heard you come in. You look like you took a tumble down a very tall hill. Where have you been, and who were you talking to?”

  I laughed a little at her second question, suddenly embarrassed to be caught talking to little forest creatures. Who did I think I was, Snow White?

  “I was just out exploring in the woods. And I was talking to a pair of resident chipmunks I've seen hanging around. I know Aunt Aimee used to feed some of the animals who came close to the house, and I think they were looking for a snack.” I refrained from telling her I thought there was more to the pair than one would think. “I set some crackers outside for them, since they didn't come when I offered them.” I shrugged at my explanation.

  She shook her head, telegraphing her amusement with my answer. “Feeding the squirrels, are you? Okay, then. What do you want to do for dinner?”

  Not bothering to correct her on the species of rodent, I lifted my shoulders. “Something easy if you don't mind? I'll be happy to throw together some soup and sandwiches once I have a quick shower.”

  “I'll start the soup; you can make sandwiches when you get out. Deal?”

  Thankful she hadn't asked me any more questions, I nodded my agreement and escaped to the bathroom down the hall. Stripping my filthy clothes off, I examined myself in the mirror. A bright red strawberry covered my right hip, the scrapes angry and welted from being drug across the forest floor. My right shoulder blade suffered a similar fate, greenish bruising spread across my skin there. I picked all the pine needles I could find from my hair before stepping into the shower to wash away the grime, and hopefully the terrifying feeling that had been left behind by whatever had attacked me at the stream.

  Watching the last of the grime swirl down the drain made me grimace at the amount of dirt I'd been covered in. While I shampooed my hair, I found even more pine needles and twi
gs. Too bad I could wash away the scrapes and bruises.

  Dinner, even as simple as it was, went a long way towards helping me feel normal again, although I was still exhausted. Performing any sort of magic, even the easy stuff, seemed to squeeze all the energy from my body. Add to that my terrifying experience at the stream earlier, and I had nothing left to give for the day. Bidding my mother goodnight, I retired to bed to read through the books I had brought down, looking for any clues as to the curse on the stream.

  If there wasn't anything in these three, I would have to head back up to the attic in the morning to look for another volume that might have more information. In spite of the many books I had read through, there were still boxes of them that I hadn't even cracked open yet. They didn't seem to be stored in any sort of order, leaving me to guess which ones I should choose next.

  It occurred to me at that moment that there might be a spell to lead me to the books containing the information I hoped to find, and I should try it the next time I went up to get more books. The worst thing that could happen is that it would give me something irrelevant, which wouldn't leave me any worse off than if I didn't do the spell at all.

  Numerous references to the stream, and the curse, were peppered throughout each of the books. The bits and pieces helped my understanding of the problem, but gave me no real solution. The only place where a counter spell was referenced faced a page that had been torn from the book. Had Aunt Aimee found the spell? If so, why would she tear it out of the book?

  CHAPTER NINE

  The hours of reading had not brought me to an answer for reversing the curse on the stream, but I now believed I knew how to remove enough of the curse from Isaiah to return his ability to shift. It would be a step in the right direction. Gathering the supplies listed in the grimoire and packing them into a backpack, I prepared to head into the woods and see if I could call Isaiah to me, the same way he was able to reach me.

  Thankful that my aunt kept all of her spell casting supplies neat and orderly in her office so time wasn't wasted on searching for them, I added a couple sandwiches to the bag, as well as some bottled water. Pausing at the thought of how much effort the spell would take, whether or not it was successful, I added more food. A couple of apples, some cookies and a package of beef jerky gave me enough calories to at least make it home, I figured. With lunches packed, I was ready to get going.