P.C. Cast - Hidden

“Wet isn’t all I wanta get with you,” he said. “Girl, I’m gonna open up a whole other world for you.”

“I’m ready for it,” she said silkily, still touching herself. “’Cause I’m sick of the boring-ass world I’ve been living in.”

“Lightning, girl. Let’s make some lightning and some changes.”

“Bring it!” Erin said.

Dallas closed the distance between them. The two of them were wrapped together and so into each other that Shaunee didn’t have to worry about them hearing her when she rushed away, totally nauseated, her eyes filled with tears.

Zoey

“If you guys don’t mind I’m gonna go to the media center. Damien thought there might be some old books on True Sight in the reference section if I dig hard enough. He’s probably better at research than I am, but I’m stubborn,” Shaylin said. “If there’s something to find, eventually I’ll find it.”

“No problem,” I said and Stevie Rae gave a shrug saying, “Sounds good to me.”

She started to walk away and then paused. “Hey, thanks for letting me come with you and talk to Thanatos. And thanks for hearing what I had to say in there. And, well, sorry again for that thing with Aphrodite earlier.”

“I’m not the one you need to keep apologizing to for that,” I said.

“Yeah, well, I think you’re the only one who will listen,” Shaylin said, glancing in the direction Aphrodite had twitched off.

“Aphrodite’ll listen. Just not very well,” Stevie Rae said. “You did good in there, Shaylin. I like what you say about people’s colors. I think you should focus on following your gut about what you see.”

“Huh,” Kramisha huffed as she hurried up to us. “I say guts can get you in a shit ton of trouble.”

I was thinking, understatement of the year, as Stevie Rae was asking, “What’s up, Kramisha?”

“It’s Dallas’s red fledglings. They’re actin’ like they wanta help clean up the stable.”

Stevie Rae frowned. I chewed my lip. Kramisha crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

“Is helping a bad thing?” Shaylin spoke into the uncomfortable pause.

“Dallas’s group has been, well…” I hesitated, trying to form a phrase that didn’t involve using words I tried (pretty much) to avoid.

Kramisha beat me to it, “They’s ass bites.”

“Maybe they’re trying to change,” Shaylin said.

“They’s devious ass bites,” Kramisha added.

“We don’t trust them,” I explained.

“And we have lots of reasons to don’t trust ’em,” Stevie Rae said. “But I have an idea. Thanatos said I gotta practice being a leader and Shaylin’s gotta practice her True Sight thing. So let’s do both.” Stevie Rae straightened her back and her voice changed from sweet and girl-like to a woman who sounded more confident and lots older. “Shaylin, you can go to the media center later. Right now you’ll come with me to the stables. I want you to look at the colors of the red fledglings there and tell me which ones are most dangerous.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said.

“Uh, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” Stevie Rae said quickly, sounding like herself again. “Just lettin’ me boss you around is good enough.”

“You ain’t that bossy,” Kramisha said.

“Well, I’m tryin’ to be.” Stevie Rae sighed, then glanced at me.

I grinned at her. “You can boss me if you want to.”

She gave me an ack! look. “If I ever try to you can call me a wiener and tell me to slap myself with a bun and mustard.”

I laughed. “Well, then, if you don’t care I’m gonna take some time by myself. I need to think about this Seer Stone thing. I’ll meet you at the stables in a little while, though. If you see Stark, tell him I’m fine and I’ll be there soon.”

“Okie dokie,” Stevie Rae said.

I watched the three of them walk off. I could hear Kramisha asking Shaylin about her color, and before the kid could answer her, she was already explaining to Shaylin that there was no damn way her color could be any kind of orange ’cause she didn’t like her no orange. Shaylin was looking confused but interested. Stevie Rae looked thoughtful and determined, like she was trying to reflect on the outside the leadership she was working on on the inside.

Me? I imagined if you put a mirror up to me I’d look confused and tired and see that my mascara was clumping and my hair was frizzing.

I wanted to go with my friends and help them get the stables cleaned up. I wanted to find Stark and have him hold my hand and tease me about over-worrying and Internet health symptom googling. Mostly I wanted to forget about the stupid Seer Stone around my neck and focus on something that made more sense—like hateful red fledglings and homework. But I knew Thanatos had been right. We would need all of our gifts to have a chance at even just keeping Darkness at bay. So instead of following my friends, I walked a different path. I cleared my mind as much as I could, and let my instincts guide me. When it was obvious where my feet were leading me, I whispered, “Spirit, please come to me. Help me not to be too afraid.” The element I felt most comfortable with soothed my fear, so that by the time I was standing before the shattered oak tree, it was like my emotions were wrapped in a soft, warm blanket.

I needed the comfort blanket. This place scared me. Professor Nolan had been killed here. Stevie Rae had almost been killed here. Kalona had ripped from the earth here. Jack—poor sweet Jack—had died here.

My gut had taken me here. Worse, my Seer Stone had started to radiate heat.

Yep, I thought. Like Kramisha said, following your gut can cause a shit ton of trouble. I sighed and admitted the truth my instinct had followed—if there’s old magick at the House of Night, this was an excellent place for it to be hiding. Sgiach had told me that old magick was powerful. It was also unpredictable and dangerous. I remembered her explaining that how it manifested had a lot to do with the Priestess who had called it to her.

So, what did that mean for me? What kind of Priestess was I becoming?

I sighed. A confused, crappy one who didn’t get enough sleep .

One with potential, drifted through my mind.

One who doesn’t know enough, I mentally countered with.

One who needs to believe in herself, the wind whispered to me.

One who needs to quit screwing up, my mind insisted.

One who needs to believe in her Goddess.

And that stopped my mental battle.

“I do believe in you, Nyx. I always will.” Resolutely, I pulled the warm Seer Stone from under my T-shirt, took a deep breath, lifted it, and stared through the little Lifesaver-like hole at the broken, battered oak tree.

For a second nothing happened. I squinted, and the tree was just a messed-up old tree. I started to relax and, typically, that’s when all hell broke loose.

From the center of the shattered trunk an ugly, terrible whirling vortex of shadows emerged. Within the whirlpool I could see horrible creatures with twisted bodies covered in skin that was mottled, as if they were rotting from disgusting diseases. Their eyes were cavernous sockets. Their mouths were sewn shut. I could smell them. It was a stink like old roadkill mixed with a backed-up toilet. I gagged and must have made a retching sound, because as a group, they turned their sightless faces to me. Their long, skeletal fingers reached toward me.

“No! Stop!” Spirit’s comfort was shattered. I was paralyzed by fear.

And then from the very center of the vortex a beautiful, full moon-colored light flashed up, burning the horrid creatures into nothingness and knocking me backward on my butt. I dropped the Seer Stone, severing my link to the old magick. As I blinked and gasped, the tree became the tree again. Old and creepy, but mundane and broken.