“We will soon be there.”
Emma glared at her friend, Annabel, before she could stop herself.
‘We will soon be there’ has been repeated more times than she could count since they had started this journey. It’s been two weeks, and there has been no change.
Every time, at every last turn, Annabel would mention that she was changing tracks, that they had to go through longer routes, because that’s what her guts instructed her to do, and that she would never disobey the ‘guts.’
Emma swore that if they took another route that would take them another week, she would abandon her friend. As a matter of fact, she wouldn’t have continued on this wild goosechase, if she wasn’t supporting her sister, Amelia.
When her sister’s master had launched an attack on the latter for blocking her mind path, Amelia had turned hostile, and was beginning to shift to her Jaguar form-when she had been on the call with Freya. Emma had to knock her sister out, so as to continue the call. From then on, Prescott had kept the latter cocooned in a magic ball that would keep her from being totally controlled by the master, since Annabel had promised that she had people in the institution which could take care of the matter-they just needed to keep Amelia from being turned into a puppet.
At day time, Emma was in charge of carrying Amelia-if they weren’t in a medium of transportation, or in a hotel sleeping-after Prescott would have turned the shield invisible. Then Prescott would take over at night, when they retired to sleep or when there was no one in sight; when no one would question why a squirrel had his hands outstretched like someone begging, or a girl floating over the ground.
But they were in a market now, in a rural area Emma didn’t believe existed. Their methods of living was so medieval, like they were still in the Stone Age. There was no form of technology or amenities. She couldn’t understand how they were coping, how they were moving smoothly with no care in the world. She didn’t even know if they were still in America. She was just following Annabel to wherever the latter led them.
Once, she had tried to doubt her friend, she had tried to stop this crazy and tiring journey, but her mind hadn’t let her. Her heart hadn’t.
Follow your heart. That phrase was easier said than done.
At the moment, she groaned under the weight of Amelia who they had donned with a long bleak gown-her sister would have a fit if she saw the clothes they had gotten her in-feeling her back ache.
Once, she had tried to use magic to help with the weight, but Annabel had prevented her. According to the latter, people in the area were very sensitive to magic, even dabbling in it sometimes. So, bearing the full weight of her sister, walking under the hot sun, Emma felt faint.
“Is this the last turn?” She asked Annabel who had Prescott in her hands as they went through a lonely bend, that had a gate at the end. She could see it with her heightened vision. She hoped against hope that the gate was the gate to the training institute.
“Not really…”
Emma sagged under the weight of her sister.
“But it’s the last turn before we get there. We just have to keep walking straight.”
Emma nodded, but had to confirm this time around. “Is this really the last bend?”
Annabel paused, then turned to look at her friend, whom she was sure would be happy when Prescott took over Amelia when they got past the gate. After the gate, there was just forest. No inhabitants or habitations, except certain supernaturals. They would have no problem doing whatever they want, till they got to the institute.
“I don’t know, honestly.”
She sighed when Emma glared at her. But that was understandable. The journey should have taken at most three to four days; but at every turn, her guts told her to take some other route. “I know you are tired, Emma. I am too. I am very tired, and in need of a jacuzzi…”
She chuckled when Emma lost her frown, and found an expression of longing.
“But we have to do this well. I feel like we are being followed, to be honest. I don’t know how, but I can’t lead you to the institute knowing that. I won’t be able to bear the guilt. I’m just trying to lose this person, or people following us.”
Emma sighed and nodded. But as they got to the gate of the lane, Emma decided to ask some certain questions to herself, wanting not to make another turn, to spend another week on the road. She felt Amelia that was beside her, gauging the energy surrounding the latter. The energy that Prescott had used to cocoon her sister was depleting, at a very fast rate. The master was working.
She furrowed her eyebrows, feeling the energy suddenly deplete by a vast amount. She looked at Prescott. He didn’t notice, or call Annabel to stop. They were moving again, past the gate into the wild. In another lifetime, Emma would never be caught dead entering such greenness, but she was different now.
She did a perusal of herself, remembering that Freya had been scared when she had mentioned that she had traced the mage-the one that was inflicting pain on her sister. Freya had been scared that the mage would trace her back. Had the mage succeeded? Emma wondered, pausing in her movement.
Prescott’s ears which had been attuned to her movement spiked, and he tapped Annabel to stop and turn around.
“What’s the problem? Prescott can take over now. There are no civilians around here.”
Emma handed Amelia over to Prescott, watched as the squirrel’s eyes thinned-he had noticed the sharp decline in the energy. He added to it, reinforcing the energy. And then he lifted her. Emma watched him breathe deeply, and knew that this amount of energy was depleting him. She wondered if he would be able to hold her till they got to Amelia’s institute.
“Don’t worry, we will be there soon.” Annabel said, holding Emma’s shoulder.
Emma nodded, then spoke why she had actually paused. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, of us being followed. Well, I checked Amelia, and though the protective energy is depleting at an alarming rate, she is not the reason why we are followed. But I will have to check myself. I have a feeling it might take time. Can we camp here?”
Annabel looked down at Prescott, up at Emma and nodded. She looked at the overbearing sun, however, and shook her head. It would be better to enter the forest at least. There were enough shades there. But before she could bring the suggestion, Emma shook her head, already knowing what her friend wanted to say.
“I think I should do it before we enter the forest. Prescott, can you create a shade over us? Can your magic carry it?”
Prescott shrugged his shoulders in answer and tapped Annabel to keep him on the floor. When Annabel did so, he started to chant magic, moving his feet from one point to the other, twirling at instances.
Emma watched as grass sprouted from the ground, when he started singing. She could hear the beautiful music in her mind. In awe, she watched the grasses add up and grow, to be a big tree, whose shade towered over them. When he was done however, he fell to his knees.
No, he couldn’t sustain the magic over her sister. Emma saw the same realization on Annabel, the panic that grew there.
‘I’m sorry.’ She heard Prescott in her mind, and shook her head.
‘You did your best. Don’t apologize for that.’
Emma didn’t know what to do, but she knew they couldn’t fail in their journey, so she ruffled Prescott’s hair fondly, tapped Annabel on the shoulder, and walked toward the edge of the tree, by the other side. She needed no interruption.
**
When Curtis saw his mother step into the pack, he had just been speaking with one of the warriors in charge of guarding the borders of the pack. A smile broke out on his lips before he could help it.
Maya had already told him of his mother’s decision before the abrupt cut in communication. He had known that his sister was okay however. There was no cause for alarm. They might have sought her opinion or something else had gathered her attention from him.
Nevertheless, the smile fell away from his lips when he saw Claire walk past through the gate, carrying a simple backpack.
What the hell! He screamed mentally, understanding then why his sister had cut the communication. Yet, he would have preferred that she told him of what was happening, that his mother had decided to force Claire on him.