Page 31 of Lost

“Elemental affinities are gifted by Nyx, and thus they are not Old Magick. It is impressive that you have such affinities. That, mixed with your Cherokee blood, is probably why the sprites heard your call,” Anastasia said. “And as to what the texts meant by being hurt by wielding the power—I am sorry to say I simply don’t have enough knowledge to explain further. I have never known Old Magick before, or anyone who could call it. All I know is what I have read in ancient texts.”

“Well, I’m willing to take the chance and use it—at least one more time. You think they’ll hear me again?”

She hiked her shoulders. “I cannot answer that, Kevin. Nor can I answer if youshouldcall to them again. I do not know the nature of your soul. I do not know how susceptible to Darkness you are.”

“I do,” said Grandma Redbird. “His soul is good. Truly good. He is not prone to Darkness or hatred or evil. Even before Nyx restored his humanity in that other world, he fought the hunger and the mindlessness of what so many of us are calling the Red Curse. U-we-tsi, I believe you can help us set the balance of Light and Darkness to right because youcanwield Old Magick. But do not forget Anastasia’s words. Remember—the payment must be specific and immediately given.”

“I’ll remember. I promise. But, um, do you think I have enough blood right now for that?”

“No, you do not,” Anastasia said.

“I have an idea for an alternative payment.” G-ma’s hand reached up to rest over the small bag that made a mound under her shirt.

“Wait, no. You can’t give up your medicine bag,” Kevin said.

“I can and I will.Bothof my medicine bags.”

Kevin pressed his own hand against the replica that rested in the middle of his chest. “I dunno, G-ma. Is it a good idea to give away your power like that?”

“Oh, u-we-tsi, a medicine bag holds no power on its own. It only symbolizes the power of its maker. And I shall simply make another, just as the other Sylvia Redbird has probably already done in Zoey’s world.” She pulled the beaded bag from beneath her shirt and lifted its leather thong over her head, handing it to Kevin. “Summon your sprites.”

Kevin took the medicine bag after squeezing his g-ma’s cold hand. Then he looked up at Dragon. “Help me stand?”

The powerful Warrior took Kevin’s elbow, lifting him to his feet. Kevin stood, swaying slightly as bright spots glittered in his vision, but he settled quickly. His back was stiff and hurt all the way from one shoulder to the other, but his dizziness passed. He couldn’t run a marathon, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to fall over. Again.

Then he realized he had no clue about his next move.

“Um, Anastasia, how do I call them?”

“When they came to you before it was when you’d torn open your wound, so it was bleeding pretty heavily, and you’d just said something about wanting to make this right.”

“So, do you think I should cut myself again and then call them?”

“Are they not still here?” Grandma gestured out at the icy night. “Can you not simply ask them to return to you?”

Kevin looked questioningly at Anastasia, who shrugged and nodded.

He cracked his knuckles and shook out his hands as he moved closer to the mouth of the cave. Kevin cleared his throat, drew a deep breath, and opened his mouth to shout Goddess-only-knew-what, but he hesitated.Maybe I should think before I speak—or more specifically, pray.Kevin closed his mouth. Closed his eyes. And bowed his head.

Please help me, Nyx. I’m way out of my league here—and not just with the sprites. I want to help the Resistance, but I’m just a kid. I’m not even as old as Zo. I promise I’ll try to do the right thing and follow the path you want me on. Could you give me a little help to keep me walking the path?

Kevin raised his head and stared out at the ice and mist magick that had kept Stark away.

“Water sprites protected us with ice and mist…” he murmured to himself, thinking aloud. “And sprites are tied to the elements.” Kevin thought hard. And then he sucked in a giant breath. “Earth sprites!” Grinning, he turned to catch the confused looks Anastasia, Dragon, and his g-ma were throwing him. “I think I’ve got it!” He faced the night again, and, with more confidence than he felt, spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Sprites of air, fire, water, and earth, I am Kevin…” He hesitated, and then knew exactly what he needed to say and how he needed to say it. “I am Kevin Redbird, and with my Goddess-given affinity and by the right of my blood—the same blood that once beat strong through those who were protectors of the land—I call to you, especially those of you who are earth elementals! Sprites already playing out there on the ridge, please come to me!”

It was as if the night inhaled, held its breath, and then, with its exhale, released magick. Anastasia and Grandma Redbird gasped as a cloud of sprites, shifting form from firefly to winged fey, flew up from lower on the ridge. They hovered before the cave, lighting the icy night so that Kevin could clearly see the huge boulders that dotted the craggy area around them begin to shimmer. Then figures emerged, as if they’d been curled within the rocks sleeping, awaiting Kevin’s summons. They were larger than the firefly sprites—about the size of toddlers. The rock sprites were unbelievably beautiful. They didn’t appear to have genders. The skin of their bodies looked exactly like the tiny compacted veins of quartz that marbled the Oklahoma sandstone from which they emerged—they glistened as if lit from within—and Kevin realized they were what he’d at first mistaken for sprites that seemed to be Fourth of July sparklers. Their delicate feet didn’t touch the earth as they drifted toward him.

“Old Magick!” squawked Anastasia’s raven as he took flight from the cave.

Movement to his right and left drew Kevin’s attention and he watched the gnarled bark of the old, winter-bare oaks waver, like heat waves lifting from an Oklahoma blacktop road during the summer. From within the trees, sprites materialized. Kevin had to check that his mouth hadn’t flopped open (one glance at Dragon showed him that the Warrior was wide-eyedandopened-mouthed). The tree sprites were the most exquisite things he’d seen since he’d been introduced to Aphrodite in Zo’s world. They were all female. Their skin was as earthy brown as tree bark, but instead of being gnarled and ancient, it looked like velvet. Their hair drifted around each of them, falling well past their waists, in all the shades of leaves: spring’s bright, new lime; summer’s strong, steady jade; and fall’s russet, fuchsia, and gold. They were as unique as the trees from which each of them emerged. At first Kevin thought their bodies were covered in tattoos, but as they moved gracefully closer to him, he realized that they were actually covered in a myriad of different forest plants—ferns, mushrooms, flowers, and moss—instead of clothes.

The different types of elemental sprites formed a semi-circle around the mouth of the cave where they waited silently in the still-falling freezing rain. The light from the firefly sprites caught the ice as it had already begun to cover the ridge, making their small area glisten, diamond-like.

“Hello,” Kevin said, hoping the huge smile he couldn’t stop his face from making wasn’t inappropriate. “Um, thank you for coming.”

A tree sprite stepped forward. She was taller than the others, and her hair was the orange, red, and gold of a mighty oak in the fall. Her body was supple and curvaceous, and barely covered by the delicate fronds of a maidenhair fern.

“Redbird Boy, we did not expect you to repeat your call, especially when our children are still about your business.”