Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(30)

“You want me alone in the forest with Decker for three days?” Beck asked, laughing. “The last time he spent time away from Summer, we almost destroyed the world.”

“It’ll be good for you to reconnect. Besides, he won’t have magick to try to kill you with.” Michael winked. “Now, let’s find us some witchlings.”

Beck was surprised to feel a little more relaxed. The idea of a real break – just walking away from everything for a few days – was rejuvenating. Even if he spent it in the cold forest with a brother half-possessed by Darkness.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and placed his palms on the ground. This time, he focused on the warmth pooling within him instead of the mess in his head.

Show me my lost sheep, he ordered the earth.

Upon becoming the Master of Light, he began having dreams about witchlings that were lost, abandoned, or alone. They plagued him for weeks. When one of the witchlings from his dreams showed up at school, he realized the earth was trying to show him where to find young Light witchlings who needed to be brought to the school. Witchling magick was hereditary, but sometimes, it skipped so many generations, that the knowledge of the greater witchling society was lost.

The earth was about as consistent and focused as Beck today. It showed him random faces, but not always locations or names. It also didn’t specify if the visions were memories – or current. Beck had spent days hunting down one witchling, only to discover she had been dead for two centuries.

So, he decided to be more proactive. Instead of relying on dreams, he sat down several times a week and interrogated the elusive earth magick about where he needed to look to rescue witchlings and bring them to the boarding school his parents funded and managed in the Rocky Mountains.

An image formed in his mind of a brunette around the age of eleven. Beck focused on her, pushing the magick to tell him where she was.

Scottsdale, Arizona.

No address, but he saw the images around her: a ranch style, stucco house near the mountains. It was more than the earth normally showed him, and he could Google the location. He was able to sense any Light witchling within about ten miles. If he found an approximate location, he’d walk until he found her.

Excitement fluttered through him. Every Light witchling he found helped bolster the Light against the Darks.

“Got one,” he said, thrilled. He opened his eyes and scribbled notes in a small notebook.

“Who is she?” his father asked.

“Fire element,” he answered then cursed. “I mean, you know I can’t tell what the witchlings are until I meet them.”

“That’s the worst one,” Michael said. “You’ve fallen for a new girl, a fire element of all things.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Beck joked. “She pretty much hates me.”

“So did your mom, when we first met.”

“Don’t you start on me, too! I refuse to believe there’s a counterbalance for Light. It makes no sense.”

Michael snorted. “Counterbalance. Wow.”

“I’m staying away. I’ve learned my lesson,” Beck said firmly. “Anyway, the new witchling I found is in Arizona. I’ll head down after the holidays.”

“Alright. I’m headed to the office for a conference call with the legal team. I think you know Dawn is suing you for full custody?”

“Yeah, she told me last night. I’ll go with you.”

“I got this one, Beck. You’re stressed enough.”

Beck hesitated. “No, Dad, that’s not cool. This is all my fault.”

“You’ve gotta save the Light. I can handle the lawyers today.” Michael rose. By his tone, he wasn’t going to be swayed.

“Sounds good, Dad,” Beck relented.

Michael squeezed his shoulder then stood and walked towards the boarding school, where his car was parked. Beck stayed where he was, comfortable with the earth’s magick running through him. He looked down at his notebook.

Several pages were dog-eared, because he was still trying to figure out how to find those witchlings from previous discussions with the earth. Most of those pages were towards the front of the notebook, which brought him a smile. He was getting better at interpreting its unique method of communication. The past five weeks, he had no dog-ears on any of the pages.

His parents were right. Sometimes, it took time for things to work out the way they should.

Setting the book aside, he replaced his palms on the ground. Usually, he had a question or a point to his talks with the earth. No single thought came to mind.

“Show me whatever you want,” he told the earth.

He expected the earth to float some pretty memories by him, as it did randomly at times. Perhaps of the valley or animals or similar.

Today, though, it showed him fire. At its midst was a smooth, small black rock that radiated with Darkness. Unlike every other vision, there was no location to this one, no serene forest setting or aerial view of the school. The fire was cold, its flames blue, while the rock felt somehow colder.

The image faded.

Beck leaned back, startled by both the unexpected vision and the intensity with which the earth showed it to him. It was acting as if it were scared, the magick agitated, the warmth coming and retreating quickly, as if the element was pacing in his blood.

“You just can’t speak English, can you?” Beck asked, frustrated.