Page 53 of Shackled to the World
Annora could only nod, seeing her life through the eyes of a mother trying to keep her daughter safe.
“It’d also explain why you’re so exceptional.” He didn’t say it to flatter her, but that didn’t stop the way a blush heated her cheeks as his eyes caressed her face. “She couldn’t let any other witches know about you for fear they’d take you away and claim you as their own.”
“But I’m only half phantom,” Annora protested.
“That doesn’t matter to those who are addicted to power. Even if you were weak, they’d want you for breeding purposes. It’s one of the reasons we try to rescue anyone with the dark, elemental power.”
“Rescue?” Annora lifted a brow at him, her snarkiness evaporating at his blank expression. “You don’t know.”
A frown appeared between his brows. “Know what?”
“They’ve been killing those who refuse to go with them.”
Edgar immediately shook his head. “No, they bind those who refuse.”
“Edgar…my uncle said if I ever tried to escape, anyone who saw my magic would kill me. He said it was forbidden magic, punishable by death. After talking to the witches today, I was able to piece it together. The witches are desperate for power. They wouldn’t kill off their own kind. That only leaves one who would do such a thing.”
“Phantoms.” Denial darkened his eyes at the horror of what she was saying, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“They would have no choice. Even if they bound those who refused to bend to them, that would still leave their children open to inheriting the gift. They’ve been eliminating everyone who refuses to bow to them. They can’t risk leaving anyone alive who is powerful enough to endanger their reign.”
“I…didn’t know.” He stared down blindly at the book. “I’ve been gone too long, no longer involved in enforcing the laws, but I wouldn’t put it past your father.”
She flinched when he called the mass murderer her father, but she couldn’t deny the truth of it. Being an asshole ran in the male side of her family apparently. “So what can you teach me about how to stay alive and out of my father’s clutches?”
His calm returned as the conversation veered away from his past. He opened the book, flipping back to where her mother started adding to the grimoire. “It looks like she came into possession of the book a few years before your birth. There is a pause between when she was recording regular spells to when she switched to phantom lore.”
Annora leaned closer, spotting the date. “When she became pregnant with me.”
“She more than likely recognized your father as a phantom. When she became pregnant, she sensed you were different, maybe could even feel your growing power. In fact, your presence might have given her the ability to access the powers she needed to find out about phantoms and their capabilities. Phantoms normally can’t do spells or magic, not in the same way as witches. Only the strongest phantoms are able to manipulate dark matter enough to cast spells, and I’m guessing you’re one of the few exceptions, especially thanks to your mother’s heritage.”
“Is there a location spell? Can we find the missing pages? My uncle wouldn’t go anywhere without them in his possession. If we can find them, we can find him, and if we find him, we can find Logan.” She couldn’t stop the hope that swelled in her heart and watched avidly while Edgar slowly flipped through the pages. She wanted to rip it away from him and search herself, but she didn’t have a clue what she was looking for.
As if reading her thoughts, particles rose up around them, the tiny spots of blackness suspended in the air like raindrops. Then it was like they were sucked toward the book and soaked into the pages.
The pages turned slowly of their own accord, like a single finger was pushing at the bottom corner of each sheet, then another one, and another, each one faster until it was flipping pages faster than she could track. Edgar lifted his hand off the book and looked up, watching her with narrowed eyes, as if he suspected she had something to do with it.
She could only shrug. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
But she would take it.
The pages came to an abrupt stop near the end of the book, leaving a single spell staring up at her.
“Fine.” He gave her a stern look. “We’ll look at it, but I want to go over a few of the self-defense spells first. You will not use the other spells without my supervision.”
Since she knew he’d snap the book shut and refuse to teach her anything unless she agreed, Annora nodded.
* * *
Well, the good news was she didn’t blow up the house, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. In two hours’ time, all she managed to achieve was memorizing a few spells.
And only one of them worked.
She could now make light—like light-up-the-fucking-world-with-the-sun-bright light—but that was about it. And since she and the guys could see in the dark, it wasn't very helpful, either.
While Edgar could cast faster than she could, his spellwork usually fell apart before he could finish, the spells a combination of witchcraft and phantom magic that he didn’t have the skill to perform. He tried to show her simpler spells he learned as a child, but those were even worse. Trying to levitate a small pencil made the whole house shake and groan like she was trying to rip the foundation out of the very earth.
Unfortunately, casting spells appeared to be a skill that needed to be learned. Apparently, phantoms never really had a problem with drawing too much power and suffering the consequences, so Edgar wasn’t sure how to restrict the flow of the afterworld. She’d memorized the location spell, but it was like she couldn’t reach far enough or her uncle was cloaked somehow.
