Page 63 of Found Objects
“No. It knew I would.”
“How?”
“Because I’m trustworthy,” I replied simply.
His smile then, even through his tears, was bright. “But really, how did it know?”
“I’ve had experience communicating with them, so they know I’m sincere.”
Evan shook his head.
“No? You don’t believe me?”
“I do. I just think it’s more.”
“Meaning what?”
“I think you’re magic.”
“I promise you, I’m really not.”
The skeptical look I got in response told me he didn’t believe me at all.
“You have another question, I can tell,” I said.
“The thing that happened to me, the possession, can that ever happen again?”
“No, it can’t.”
“But what if—”
“Those patches of magic are honestly very rare. I doubt you’ll see another in your lifetime unless you end up spending a lot of time with Teague.”
He gasped excitedly. “Teague? Teague can see magic patches?”
“He certainly can. And I promise you, if he’d been there with you, he wouldn’t have let you get anywhere near that area.”
“Because he actually is magic, right, Merritt?”
I shrugged. “Would we say magic or just, you know, quirky?”
Evan laughed then, and it was a really good sound. Cole took hold of my left hand, squeezing tight so I turned and looked at him.
“We all want to hear how you know all this and what was with those glowing eyes of yours, and how, in fact, you communicate with ghosts.”
“Well, first, when we get back,” Abel said, “don’t you need to seal that patch up so nothing else can happen there?”
I scoffed. “No. Whatever residual magic was there is gone now. It was triggered the other night by the blood I spilled. Think of it like a candle—it’s extinguished.”
“You’re sure?” Justin asked me. “Perhaps there’s someone else who might know?”
“I’m certain there is,” I told him. “You could ask around. Do you know any witches?”
“My mother does.” He turned to Narah.
“They’re more herbalists and healers than actual magic users,” she told him.
“Well then, I just want to know, Merritt, if another spot of magic was found, is there no way to harness something like that?” Justin asked.
