Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual Read online

  Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual

  Bella Forrest

  Contents

  Problems reading?

  1. Harley

  2. Harley

  3. Harley

  4. Harley

  5. Harley

  6. Astrid

  7. Astrid

  8. Harley

  9. Harley

  10. Harley

  11. Harley

  12. Astrid

  13. Harley

  14. Harley

  15. Harley

  16. Astrid

  17. Astrid

  18. Harley

  19. Harley

  20. Harley

  21. Astrid

  22. Astrid

  23. Harley

  24. Harley

  25. Astrid

  26. Astrid

  27. Harley

  28. Harley

  29. Harley

  30. Harley

  31. Harley

  32. Harley

  33. Astrid

  34. Harley

  35. Harley

  Read more by Bella Forrest

  Copyright © 2018

  Nightlight Press

  All rights reserved.

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  One

  Harley

  Getting myself sucked into an interdimensional pocket wasn’t how I thought I’d be spending my night.

  I dove to the ground and slammed into the marble with a hefty thud. A bright light flooded the space above me, cutting off my air supply as the golden bubble started shrinking around me. My lungs clawed for oxygen, and I scrabbled against the floor in a vain attempt to break free of the rapidly narrowing pocket. A pop sounded and the bubble exploded outwards in a spray of sparkling shards.

  Jacob came running toward me. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that!”

  I lay on my back, panting like a dog at the beach. “No worries. Everyone makes mistakes,” I replied, raising my hands. “Your mistakes are just a little bit more powerful than other people’s.” I sat up and dusted myself off, taking his hand as he pulled me to my feet.

  He looked bashful. “You sure you aren’t hurt?”

  “No harm done. What was that, anyway?”

  “The last thing Isadora taught me before Katherine took her was how to make interdimensional pockets by opening up four portals at once—they kind of work like corners on a soccer field, though way smaller,” he explained shyly. “I just don’t have her skill. This is all useless without her guiding me.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

  I flashed him a grin. “I’m only teasing, Jake. I obviously don’t have any experience in this stuff.” I was thankful I hadn’t broken any ribs. An ache shot through my chest, but it would soon subside. I’d probably just bruised my side or something—nothing I couldn’t handle. “I’ve been thinking… there must be a way to feel this stuff out. I mean, how did magicals do this back in the day, when they first started shooting out of the womb? They must’ve done some guesswork and worked on instinct, right?”

  He nodded uncertainly. “Not sure they came shooting out, but I catch your drift.”

  “That’s what you need to do.”

  “I thought that’s what I was doing?”

  “Could you feel the bubble getting unstable?” I prompted.

  “Yeah… kind of.”

  “And what did you do about it?”

  He frowned. “I pushed it outward.”

  “And what happened?”

  “It came loose from its… I don’t know what you’d call them—anchors, maybe?”

  “Right, so maybe you need to draw them inward instead; keep the bubble steady.”

  His eyes brightened. “That’s not a bad idea. Isadora kept telling me I needed to show restraint and be more precise in my actions. I kept destroying stuff around the hideouts we were staying at, which she said was a control problem.”

  I tried not to show my panic at his words. “Then let’s start again and try something different.”

  “But I thought we wanted to develop an escape route for the coven, if all of this goes to sh—”

  “Language, Jacob,” I chided playfully.

  He smiled, his eyes turning sad. “You sound like Mrs. Smith.”

  “I guess she rubbed off on me after all.”

  Jacob had been masquerading as Tarver for just over a week now, and we’d started training in secret each night. With him here at the coven, there was no time to waste in trying to get his abilities up to snuff—not that I had any idea what I was doing. Nevertheless, Alton had given us the key to the preceptors’ private training room and instructed them to use the public ones instead. I wasn’t sure how much he’d told them about Tarver-aka-Jacob, but they’d kept away from our sessions. I’d even asked Alton if he thought I was the woman for the job, to which he’d helpfully replied, “It’s not as if we have a bunch of Portal Openers at our disposal to help him hone his skills. Follow the list of instructions I’ve given you, and you’ll do just fine.”

  My ribs did not think I was doing just fine, nor did the cut on my cheek or the scrape on my forearm. Training Jacob was a risky business. Then again, I couldn’t let him go through this alone. He and I shared the same sadness over Isadora, not to mention a mutual helplessness. I hadn’t been able to save her from Katherine, back in the warehouse, any more than he’d been able to when Katherine’s cronies had come for her. Besides, I could sense his contentment at having me in the room with him, helping him with this. He evidently thought I was doing a decent job. Fake it till you make it, right? Plus, I was going step-by-step through the processes Alton wanted Jacob to work on, which took a small bit of the strain off.

  “The end goal is to create an escape route, but even if that’s just you making a big-ass portal that everyone can run through, that’ll be better than what we currently have,” I assured him. “Yes, a comfy little pocket of interdimensional space would be ideal, but if you’re not ready for it, that’s okay. There’s no pressure on you, Jake. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “Like Alton, you mean?”

  I narrowed my eyes in curiosity. “Has he been pressuring you?”

  “Not in so many words, but he keeps letting me know how important this escape route is.”

  “You need me to have a word with him?” I grinned impishly.

  “I’ll let you know if I do.” He smiled. I liked seeing him smile. He wasn’t the type of kid who did that much, despite his young age. I knew this was a trait in most foster kids, but that didn’t mean I thought it was okay and normal. It wasn’t. It was heartbreaking.

  I understood his pain a little too much. He and I were in very similar boats. There were big old skeletons in both of our closets, and we were the ones left to deal with the aftermath of our parents’ choices. Putting my efforts into him stopped me from wallowing in my own history, since that was a downward spiral I really didn’t want to start slipping down.

  One thing was for sure: our moms were heroines. I kept wantin
g to tell him that, but it didn’t seem appropriate to bring it up. Zara and Hester… your legacies live on. We’re still here. My dad had done some pretty great things too, to save me from Katherine. Although I didn’t know enough about Elan Sowanoke—Jacob’s dad—to make any judgments.

  Jacob sighed. “I just keep thinking about all these kids, and what we’re going to do when we get them back… if we get them back. They won’t be safe here. If I could create that pocket of space and get it to hold, just for a while…”

  “I know, Jake, but there’s no point in beating yourself up over something that’s momentarily beyond your control. You do what you can, and we’ll be grateful, okay?” I patted him on the shoulder, sending a jolt of pain up my torso.

  “Are you okay? I knew I’d hurt you.” He dropped his gaze.

  “No, I slept funny on my side, that’s all. Seriously, it’s all downhill when you hit nineteen.”

  He laughed. “You sure?”

  “Positive. Now, let’s get some portals opened and see what else happens,” I urged. “Why don’t we start with short-range portals? A controlled opening from here to somewhere else in the coven? Let’s say the Banquet Hall so we don’t disturb anyone.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good.”

  As I watched him walk to the far side of the training room, with its beautiful arched ceiling painted with ancient images of magical warriors on the backs of dragons, I thought about what he’d said. The missing kids had been playing on my mind a lot. We had Micah and Marjorie, but that wasn’t enough, not when other lives were still at risk.

  Alton had put Micah and Marjorie in two of the secret rooms that seemed to be dotted all over this coven—little hidden spaces, which were frankly quite depressing with their black marble and windowless walls. Marjorie had asked for things to decorate hers with, and we’d happily obliged. However, even with a sack-load of Christmas lights and pretty lamps and posters of her favorite K-pop band, it still seemed gloomy.

  Micah, on the other hand, was a little easier to placate. He was happy just to play with Fluffers and a couple of toys we’d stolen from Kid City. Although he was the one who worried me the most. Since returning to the coven, he’d Purged a small goblin-like creature that he’d let run amok in his room until Alton caught it. Micah called them his “pets,” which had made us all wonder how many of these “pets” he’d created in the past. Dr. Krieger’s Reading confirmed that the boy did, indeed, have Necromancy powers, alongside the beginnings of a fierce Telekinetic ability. Pretty scary stuff in a five-year-old boy who had no control over his emotions. We’d already had to strap things down after he’d heard about his family. Alton had put it as kindly as possible, giving it the usual “fell asleep and didn’t wake up” clichés, but the little boy was smarter than that and had been completely devastated by the revelation.

  Speaking of which, I should probably tell Marjorie about the Hamms having their memories wiped. I was dreading that particular duty, which was presumably why I continued to put it off. Alton had given the task to me, for some reason; maybe he thought it might be character-building. I couldn’t avoid it forever, though. She already knew something was up—I could sense it coming off her in subtle currents of suspicion.

  “Did Krieger say anything else about your Reading?” I asked Jacob. “Like, your strength or anything? Light and Dark—that sort of stuff?”

  He shrugged. “According to him, being a Portal Opener tends to mean you’re pretty strong, and I’m well within the Light side of the spectrum.”

  “Yeah, I can vouch for the strength.”

  Part of me felt relieved that he was a Light magical, though I knew that had nothing to do with how a person ended up.

  “How’s Dr. Krieger, anyway?” Jacob asked, as he stretched out his muscles in readiness for the next portal. “He seemed pretty wiped out when he did my Reading the other day. Or is he always like that?”

  “He wasn’t well for a while, but he’s doing better now. To be honest, I think he needs to sleep for an entire week, but he keeps telling everyone he’s fine to keep working,” I replied.

  Alton and Preceptor Bellmore had performed a dangerous hex on Krieger shortly after Jacob’s arrival that had seemingly removed all trace of the curse, at great cost to both Krieger and Bellmore. Alton seemed to have come out of it okay, but then he normally had Necromancy to deal with. Krieger and Bellmore had both been walking around the place like zombies ever since, neither of them accepting the fact that they needed more downtime to recover. Still, at least we had our physician back. After Adley de la Barthe, we didn’t want the San Diego Coven to be known for its inability to retain its physicians. Our rep was tattered enough as it was. Before the removal hex, Alton had been going out of his mind, trying to figure out whom he could get in as a replacement, since nobody could be trusted anymore. Paranoia was rife in this place now, more so than it had ever been, and it left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth.

  “That’s good. He seems like a cool guy,” Jacob said.

  He closed his eyes, and I imagined he was digging deep to draw upon the power of Chaos. His hands glowed green. Time and space tore open behind him, the gap much more restrained than it had been during his previous attempts, the edges smooth where they’d formerly crackled and spat.

  Hey, maybe I’m getting better at this teaching malarkey.

  “Shall I throw a sandbag through?” I asked.

  He nodded, a trickle of sweat meandering down the side of his face. “Sure, let’s start small. If this works, it’ll end up in the Banquet Hall.”

  I picked up one of the small, colored sandbags that we’d been using to test the end points of his portals and tossed it through. He closed the portal a moment later, breathing hard with the exertion of having kept it open.

  “How did that feel?”

  “Better,” he replied.

  “Let’s see if it ended up in the Banquet Hall.” I went to the side of the room and turned on the small monitor that Alton had given me, so I could use cameras to mark Jacob’s progress, and the whereabouts of these sandbags. It only granted me access to three—the Banquet Hall, the Assembly Hall, and the Aquarium—but we were starting small, which suited me just fine. I peered at the camera showing the Banquet Hall. Sure enough, there on the floor lay a red sandbag.

  “Did it?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yep—bang in the center of the room. Okay, do it again when you’re ready, and I’ll go through,” I said confidently, though my heart was hammering in my chest. The sandbag had gone through, but Lord only knew where I’d end up. Banquet Hall, Banquet Hall, Banquet Hall… You can do this.

  “I just need to catch my breath.”

  “No problemo.”

  I grabbed one of the water bottles that sat at the side of the room and chucked it to him. He caught it deftly and tore off the cap, chugging the liquid down as though he hadn’t seen water in weeks.

  “The Rag Team doesn’t suspect anything about me, do they?” he asked, mopping his brow with the back of his forearm. “I thought I might have given myself away the other day, in the Banquet Hall. Wade kept calling my name and I just ignored him. I totally forgot I’m supposed to be Tarver.”

  “I don’t think anyone noticed anything. Wade hasn’t mentioned anything to me, anyway. They probably think you’re a bit dense, that’s all.” I cracked a smile, which seemed to amuse him.

  “Speaking of the Rag Team, you’re friends with Tatyana, right?” he asked tentatively, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

  I arched an eyebrow. “I am. Why do you ask?”

  “She’s super hot.”

  I laughed. “Please don’t tell me you have a crush on her.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s not called the Ice Queen for nothing,” I retorted, with an affectionate smile.

  He shrugged. “That makes her so much more interesting. Women like her are so mysterious, don’t you think?”

  “Note the word ‘woman.’”

&
nbsp; “You don’t think she’d be interested in me?” He looked crestfallen. Bless him.

  “She’s too old for you, Jake. Besides, she’s seeing Dylan.”

  “The puffed-up jock?”

  “Hey, he’s more than that… but yes, him. And let me add that he’s also a Herculean, so don’t go trying to challenge him to a duel or anything stupid like that, okay? They think you’re Tarver. They don’t know you’re Jacob, so I need you to behave. No flirting, understood?” I chuckled at the weirdness of it. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little bit sorry for him. Teenage crushes were hard enough without being unrequited. I mean, he’d gone all gooey-eyed just talking about her, when the harsh truth was Jacob was still a kid while Tatyana was a full-blown woman. He was barking up the wrong tree.

  A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Maybe I’ll play the long game. Charm her first, compliment her all the time, and see where that gets me. I reckon I can get a kiss on the cheek before Christmas.”

  Ah, grasshopper, you have so much to learn about women. And how inappropriate this is.

  “Or a swift kick to your crown jewels.”

  He laughed. “You talk like her sometimes, you know? Isadora, I mean.”

  “Do I?” His words took me by surprise.

  “Yeah, you both have this bluntness about you, but I think you’re both just hiding a soft, squishy center,” he teased.

  “I definitely do not have one of those, thank you very much!”

  He grinned. “You know, Isadora never used to let her guard down very often, but she’d do it now and again, in the evenings, when the two of us were up late. She’d always talk about you, and how much you meant to her. I admit, I got a little jealous from time to time,” he added, with a mischievous smile. “Sometimes, she’d tell me about those three years you were on the run—her, Hiram, and you. The places you hid and the lengths your dad went to, to keep you safe. You might not have known it when you were stuck in the foster system, but you’ve always been loved, Harley.”