I wasn’t so sure what I thought anymore.
I started to head off toward the trail and glanced back at the hole. The key had been taken. As much as I had initially wanted to be rid of the thing, I couldn’t help but feel that losing it was going to be far more disastrous.
Chapter 8
The man’s foreign words echoed in my mind as my boots hit the weathered trail. He’d said I wouldn’t win this time. What had he meant, not this time ?
I shoved the nagging question to the back of my mind as indecision rippled through me. I glanced toward home. I couldn’t go back now. My mind was reeling, and I was too amped up to return to the house. I started to the right and headed toward the small town on the other side of the forested park.
I really needed some coffee.
My gaze swept through the trees as I walked, keeping a lookout for that strange man. Who was he? I hadn’t told anyone about the key, so how did he know about the relic? Was it possible he had seen it before?
Logic—something that had always been ingrained in me to trust—said that was impossible. But this new, fractured reality I was shakily walking across suggested otherwise. He hadn’t seemed real with his ancient and powerful aura, but I couldn’t deny what I had seen.
The meandering trail was winding to an end. The small town was visible through the trees up ahead. I kicked a stick out of my way. I shouldn’t have let him take the relic. I should have tried harder to stop him. What was he going to do with it?
Well, it didn’t matter now, anyway. The key was gone. I couldn’t change that.
I shifted the strap of my bag into a more comfortable position. Pulling in a deep breath, I tried to look like I hadn’t spent the early part of my morning digging a hole in the woods for an ancient, and probably magical, relic followed by a confrontation with a man who seemed to be some sort of wizard from ages past.
I’m just out to get coffee. Nothing unusual.
Not quite sure why I was feeling paranoid, I found my way to the sidewalk that would lead me to the street lined with quaint shops and little restaurants then headed straight toward my favorite coffee shop, The Frazzled Bean Co.
It held the same sort of charm many places did around here. A few small tables and chairs sat outside of the large windows, the only occupant an elderly man in a beige fedora reading a newspaper. The sign above the entrance creaked slightly in the soft morning breeze.
When I pushed through the door, the bell rang over my head. There weren’t many customers, yet. I crossed the wooden floors to the wide counter, behind which stood the proprietor.
Gina was a lovely woman. She had a beautiful mane of unruly red curls that she fought back into a ponytail to keep her hair out of her face while she was working. A woman in her late-forties, she had never married. She told anyone who asked that The Frazzled Bean Co. was her husband and it gave her enough trouble. You could see the love she poured into the place, from the warm brick walls to the mismatched chairs that managed to look charmingly quirky without appearing tacky. A massive collection of coffee cups hung in rows on a wall behind the counter, Gina’s crown jewel to her caffeinated empire.
“Olivia!” Gina’s exuberant voice filled the room. Her smile was bright as I stepped up to the counter. “How are you?”
“I’m doing all right.” That was the farthest I could stretch the truth.
She nodded, and I was grateful she wasn’t one to pry. “The usual?”
“Yes, please.”
She busied herself concocting a perfect honey lavender latte. We kept up a casual conversation on the beautiful morning and what we were up to lately. Apparently, she had taken up crocheting on a whim, and I spoke of the dig.
“Find anything good?” Gina asked as she slid my cup, full to the brim, toward me.
I pulled some bills out of my pocket. “Nothing but dusty tombs and failure,” I answered with a smile. An uncomfortable sensation squeezed me at the thought of the key.
“Oh well, maybe next time.”
Giving Gina a tight smile, I paid for my latte as the bell over the door jingled and a pair of college-aged students came in. I headed toward my favorite spot, a faded red armchair near the front window. In the corner, I could sit and watch people walk by without any close seats for other customers to sit near me and intrude on my peace.
I settled into the comfy chair and placed the cup on the table. I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to dispel the lingering sensation that persisted, even with the absence of the key. Would the feeling go away? What about that strange energy that had burst from me? Surely, without the relic nearby, that power would vanish.
Wouldn’t it?
The way that energy had bloomed above my hand had been so strange, and yet a part of it had been familiar. I had even enjoyed the buzzing across my skin, that light and power. It was a disconcerting thought because, surely, I would know if I had done that before.
I stared at my hand, recalling the confrontation in the woods. It had just appeared without thought. Even now, I could almost feel the tingling across my palm. My heart pounded against my ribs. I wasn’t just recalling that tingling. It was happening again. Right now! A small bit of energy swirled over my hand, twisting like water between my fingers.
I quickly thrust my hand under the table and squeezed my wrist, glancing wide-eyed around the café as I tried to snuff out the growing power. It seemed like minutes passed before I was able to pull back the energy trying to burst forth, though in truth, it had most likely only been seconds. I peered around again, but it didn’t appear as if anyone had noticed.
My hands wrapped around the warm cup, and I sat back, taking a sip. I held onto the cup for dear life, as if it would anchor me from inadvertently bringing forth that power again. I pulled in deep breaths through my nose and tried to calm my racing heart, punctuating the breaths with warm, delicious sips. What was I going to do if this invasion didn’t go away?
A shadow passed over me as someone strolled by on the sidewalk outside the window. A moment later, the bell above the door chimed. I continued to attempt to enjoy my latte, the strain finally beginning to ebb, when a new sensation came over me.
I was being watched.
I peeked up from my cup to find my eyes locked with a man across the room. A breath of relief sighed through me when I realized it wasn’t the man from the woods. I returned to my latte, but the feeling persisted. Another quick flick of my eyes found the man was still staring at me.
The man wasn’t someone I recognized, though being all the way across the room, I couldn’t derive much besides dark hair and casual attire. I tilted my face back down and tried to ignore him.
His staring continued; I could feel it. It wasn’t as if it was the first time I had been stared at, but I certainly wasn’t in the mood for any type of interest. After shooting him a slight scowl and angling my body away from him, I hoped he would take the hint.
He didn’t.
A peek out of my peripheral showed him still looking and leaning forward slightly. I shifted in the chair, growing uncomfortable. After another few minutes of his attention, I decided to get up and head home. I tossed my cup in the trash near the door and headed out with a quick wave at Gina.
I was only several feet down the sidewalk when I heard the quiet jingle of the bell. I looked over my shoulder to find the man following me.