The Gift of Magic

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As Malcolm slowly became aware of his surroundings, he stroked the cat in his lap to stave off the nausea that always came with a trip to the other realm. No matter how skilled he'd become at traveling to other dimensions, the nausea couldn't be avoided, but the cat always seemed to help. This trip had been especially difficult, the information he sought still guarded by a protective spell that was far stronger than he'd ever imagined. It was no wonder that he'd been unsuccessful in the past, but now he'd found what he was looking for and he could finally put his plan into action.

He'd been denied his destiny for over twenty years, but now he could practically taste victory, the victory that would have been his all those years ago if Thomas Corey hadn't fled like a coward. Reflecting back on that night all those years ago, he had to admit that he might have made a mistake, but he'd had no idea that Thomas would flee rather than fight. That he'd turn his back on his family and leave them unprotected, but that was exactly what he'd done. He'd disappeared into the night with only his wife and daughter, his magic muffled under a powerful spell to hide his trail.

But thanks to his spirits in the other realm, he knew that the spell Thomas had cast to block both his own powers and those of his daughter had begun to weaken. That his magic could be detected in the other realm leaving a trail that Malcolm could follow, a trail that would lead him directly to Thomas and the revenge he'd been planning since the man disappeared.

There was no doubt that he'd come out the winner, especially since he'd had years to plan, years to build a group of followers that wanted the same thing he did. The Corey's had been in power for much too long, it was time that new blood took over the coven, time for the family to share the wealth. They liked to pretend that their money had come from hard work, that they'd never used their powers to their own benefit, but only a fool would believe that their immense wealth had come from anywhere but the supernatural.

He understood where their wealth had come from, Thomas had shown him the grimoire that held all their secrets, a book unlike any he'd ever seen. Of course, they'd only been boys then, too young and inexperienced to understand what they were looking at. Thomas had only shown him because Malcolm had dared him one lazy summer afternoon when they'd been bored, he hadn't let him touch the book, but he'd opened its velvet case and let Malcolm look inside.

The book had been giving off a glow that Malcolm even at such a young age recognized as a sign of a very powerful spell. “It's enchanted." He'd whispered to Thomas.

“It's a protection spell, only a very strong witch can break the spell and read the book.” Thomas had explained. “Someday I'll be able to, at least that's what my grandmother says." He added proudly.

That had been the first time that Malcolm had been jealous of Thomas, the difference in their places on the island suddenly making him feel inadequate. Unlike Thomas, who had been born on the island, a true Corey through and through, he and his family had only recently joined the coven. Adopted by the coven after theirs had been destroyed in a war over territory that had left them homeless and destitute, his father a broken man who would never recover from the loss of his family home and the family grimoire that he claimed held all they needed to become the most powerful witches the world had ever seen.

Over the years, what should have been gratitude for all the Corey's had done for his family had instead became bitter jealousy as the differences between he and Thomas had grown. They'd gone off to school together, but almost immediately Thomas had been singled out, treated differently. No matter how hard Malcolm had worked, he'd never quite been able to measure up to Thomas, whether it was grades, sports, or magic, he was always right behind him.

He'd learned to live in Thomas's shadow, reaping what rewards he could from his friendship with the heir to the Corey fortune and magic until Evelyn Reynolds walked into their lives. Fresh and vibrant, she captured his heart immediately, but she only had eyes for Thomas, who at first didn't even know she existed. But once she'd made up her mind that Thomas was the only man for her, she set out to capture his heart, ignoring Malcolm as if he was nothing more than a fly on the wall.

On the day of their wedding, Malcolm had promised himself that he'd never stand in Thomas's shadow again, that he would someday rule the coven and take Denise as his own. For years he'd plotted and planned, worked on his magic, until he was sure that he was strong enough to take Thomas on. When he'd issued the challenge in front on the coven, there had been laughter, everyone sure that Malcolm could never beat Thomas and that was when he'd let his pride and anger take over. He'd had Thomas's daughter Morgan kidnapped, thinking it would weaken the man and assure his victory.

It was a mistake that he would regret for the rest of his life, but finally after twenty years, he was going to get what he deserved, what he'd worked so hard for. The grimoire would be his, along with all the secrets it contained, his to use as it was meant to be used. Thomas might have fled his challenge all those years ago, but he couldn't hide any longer, Malcolm knew where he was and he had every intention of following through with his plan to have him eliminated.

When Morgan awoke she could tell from the darkness in the room that it was night, disoriented she reached for her phone, but it wasn't on the table by her bed. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her mind still fuzzy from the deep sleep she'd been in it took her a minute to remember all that had happened over the last 24 hours. Looking around her bedroom, she began to wonder if she'd dreamed the entire thing, if her mind had concocted the events of the last few hours, the books, the visit from her cousin, her clothes floating around the room.

She got out of bed, grimacing when she noticed that she was still fully clothed, then walked out to the living room, hoping that the case wouldn't be sitting by the door. Hoping that she'd had some kind of a fevered dream and that none of what she remembered was true, but the case was still there, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight, and she knew that she hadn't been dreaming.

She stumbled over to the couch and sat down, her eyes never leaving the case that held the book, trying desperately to come up with a reasonable explanation for what had been happening. But no matter how hard she tried there was only one explanation, what she'd experienced had been real, mind numbingly real. For long minutes she sat on the couch letting her emotions wash over her, anger came first, anger that her parents had hidden her true heritage from her.

But that anger was quickly followed by fear, fear so intense that it took her breath away, and she began to panic. The panic came in waves, washing over her like the ocean crashing against the shore, each wave more intense that the last. With the panic came an intense sense of loneliness like she'd never experienced before, not even when she'd learned that her father, her best friend, had been killed.

Then a strange thing happened, the room which had been dark except for the moon light streaming through the window, began to brighten and the air began to shimmer in a way Morgan had never seen before. The strange light grew bright and then a figure began to materialize, and although she knew that she should be frightened, she was strangely calm. In only seconds her father appeared, misty and unsubstantial, but there in the room with her.

She sucked in a deep breath, not sure if she wanted to cry or shout at him. Before she could do either, her father spoke. “Hi, sweetheart. I've missed you.” His calm voice soothing to her ears, she leaned back against the couch, no longer angry or scared, just very sad.

“Oh, I've missed you too.” She said, then the tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I don't understand what's going on.”

“I know and I'm sorry for that. I thought there would be more time.” He said, shaking his head sadly, “But that's not what's important right now, what's important is that you listen to your cousin, that you go with him to the island where you'll be safe. I tried to protect you until you were ready, but I may have made a mistake hiding your true gifts from you for so long.”

“My gifts?”

“You've always been a strong woman, but you're much stronger than you realize. You have gifts that most people can only dream of, use them wisely.” Her father said as he began to fade.

“Wait! Don't go, I have so many questions.” Morgan said, jumping to her feet.

“I'm sorry I can't stay, but I want you to remember who you are. Remember that you're strong and capable, and above all else remember that I love you. There's someone on the way to help you, watch for him, and know that I've sent him.” Her father said, then he disappeared, and the darkness returned to her apartment, the moon again the only illumination in the room.

Stunned she sat in the darkness for a long time, turning her father's words over and over in her mind. His visit had made her feel both better and worse, better because she knew that he was okay wherever he was, but worse because now she knew without a doubt that what she'd experienced was real. When the panic began to surface again, she pushed it away, her father had told her to remember who she was, and if nothing else, she was a scholar, an expert on old books.

Getting to her feet, she grabbed the case and set it down on her coffee table and opened it up, gasping when it gave off a slight glow. She reached out to touch it, but pulled back at the last second, the tingling in her fingers already beginning. Closing her eyes, she tried again, running her fingers over the cover, feeling not only the soft leather under her fingers but the tingling intensify. Taking calming deep breaths, she forced herself to keep her fingers on the book, only to discover that while the tingling felt weird, it wasn't a bad feeling.

If fact, the longer she touched it, the more the feeling began to resemble pleasure, or something like it. A warm feeling spread though her, filling her with not only a sense of calm, but a sense that something that had been missing from her life had suddenly been returned. Unprepared for such a feeling, she pulled her hand away from the book and slammed the lid of the case closed, and sat back on the couch.

That was when she remembered the other book, the book that was sitting in her office at the library, the book that contained the spell that she'd used in her apartment earlier that day. Just thinking the word spell made her heart begin to pound, so she closed her eyes and tried to think logically. Her training and education kicked in then and she knew what she had to do, jumping to her feet, she gave the book one last look, then headed to the bedroom.