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Seven
A warm wind stirred around us, blowing sand across my cheeks. It rubbed my skin like sandpaper, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Roarke was behind the distraction. He always seemed to know what I was thinking.
“Are you ready to continue your adventure?” he asked tentatively.
I didn’t answer because I honestly wasn’t sure. Trepidation and doubt continued to creep into my mind between bouts of excitement and bravery. At some point, I would have to pick a side within myself.
Following my intuition again, I walked forward, peering past the edge of the large quartz stele, and found a small gap behind it. Gripping the edge, I pulled. Warm air blasted from a hidden entrance that had been shielded by the stele this entire time.
“Did you know this was here?”
Roarke smiled but kept silent.
I squeezed through the opening and into the secret corridor beyond. I couldn’t remember anyone in the real world having discovered a passageway beneath the sphinx and wondered if it was just a part of the dream we were now in.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I turned back to Roarke and stretched out my hand. “Well? Are you coming?” I grinned.
Pure, unadulterated joy shone on his face as he threaded his fingers through mine and followed me inside. The thrill of a once-in-a-lifetime adventure won out over my fears, sparking something inside me that had only now begun to burn bright.
We ran through ancient tunnels, into secret crypts, and finally found a throne room buried deep beneath the earth. Treasures of unimaginable wealth filled every corner and crevice, including an entire desk of worn leather tomes.
Cracking the spine of the thickest one, I smiled as I stared at symbols and words from one of the oldest cultures in history. Roarke waved his hand again, transforming them for me to read.
Blood from blood, time to time,
Blessed is our lord Ra, the mighty divine.
Share his power, brought to thee,
From priests of Satu, three by three.
A picture of six priests standing over a pharaoh with their arms raised above their heads lined the bottom half of the page. I could only assume it was Satu they were casting the spell for.
This was such a treasure. I felt like Evelyn from The Mummy. The adventure, the romance, even the danger called to me. And now I was living it, if only in a dream.
I looked over my shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Roarke stepped closer, his presence behind me warm and inviting. “You’re welcome, Milly. I’ll happily take you wherever you want to go.”
I turned away from the table, the thought of Roarke’s unlimited magic filling my mind. “What will happen if we combine our magic?”
His eyes sparked with excitement. “You should feel the connection between us deepen, and your well of magic will grow. After that it shouldn’t feel any different than when you use your magic in the real world. But here, like me, you’ll only need to think of where you want to go and what you want to do. No spells required.”
I looked around the tomb and felt nothing but truth in his words. This amazing life could be mine, and all I had to do was trust him. But in this moment, I still wasn’t sure if I did. Or perhaps it was myself I didn’t trust—I really couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I needed more time.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not ready yet.”
Lying awake back in my bed, I stared at the plaster ceiling, the missing flakes reminding me of all the real-world chores I needed to get done. Today my plan was to winterize the rest of the garden beds and restock my candles and creams. They’d provide a good substitute for the lack of vegetables I’d have in the final days of the farmers market this year. Unfortunately, chores be damned, all I could think about was him.
I writhed under the sheet, recalling the mystical, foreign places we’d visited so far. The once-in-a-lifetime things I’d learned. And most importantly, the surge of energy that filled my body when we almost joined our magic. For that brief moment, it was beyond anything I’d ever experienced before. But despite my grounding and truth spells and how our magic felt together, I had to admit I was still a little unsure. It wasn’t as if I thought Roarke was lying to me, but I couldn’t help feeling there was something more to his magic. I just didn’t know what. And maybe that was it. The draw of it all. Maybe it was the mystery that called to my witch’s soul. Something I needed to discover—about him and myself.
Jenks meowed from the kitchen, breaking my internal debate.
“Good morning, sweet boy. Are you ready for your breakfast?”
I pulled the quilt from my bed, wrapped it around my shoulders, and padded to the stove. The embers in the kitchen hearth still burned bright, and a plate of bacon and a slice of the raisin-cinnamon bread I baked last week sounded divine.
I set the kettle on the burner next to the pan and scooped out a tablespoon of my peppermint tea. The minty aroma swirled my senses, bringing with it a fresh wave of peace.
