Chapter 36

The old man had no ID, and so far no one had recognized him or reported him missing. He was probably just a drifter, passing through. A long-haired old bum, missing one eye, going nowhere and taking the wrong route to get there.

They'd found him in an old abandoned house at the edge of town. He was covered in cuts and burns, and three of his fingers had been severed. Cause of death was determined to be heart failure, but they sent the body to Dallas for a full autopsy, and they were treating it as murder. Rumor had it, though, that the sheriff said all the wounds looked self-inflicted, and the body was found with numerous knives and a small pocket torch.

Kristen was horrified by the news, and Kayla, as she related the details she'd managed to garner, looked grim. Mark was feeling rather paranoid himself ... that missing eye ... He glanced towards the door. It was lunchtime, and his classroom empty, the hallway deserted, but the door was still open to allay any suspicion. "Kayla, can you come over and help me add more protections to the house tonight?"

She shook her head. "Mark ... I can come over, and I can find you a stronger spell, but I can't help you do it."

"Why not?" he asked, puzzled.

"Remember I said you could build the skill but you had to have the talent first?" she asked. "I don't. Period. I can't do magic. Not at all."

He looked at her thoughtfully. He didn't buy it. She knew too much about it, and she wasn't the type to waste her time learning something she could never use. But it wasn't the time for questions, not yet, so he just said, "I see. Well, we'd still like you to come over. Tell us what needs doing."

She smiled, relieved. "I will."

During his conference hour, he drove to the post office and sent the package to Lenita. He sent them in a locked box, with a combination lock and his cell-phone number, via next-day FedEx delivery, with the request that she call during his conference period to get the combination.

As the day went on, the rumors got wilder, of course. It was a high school, after all. By the end of the day, the gory details would be enough to give anyone nightmares.

Kayla rode home with them. As soon as they got home, Kristen headed upstairs at as close to a run as the cast would allow. "I need a shower! I couldn't take one after P.E., and even if I couldn't run, I still got all sweaty in that hot gym, yuck! Be right back."

"Okay," Mark said, smiling after her and wondering if somehow she knew he wanted to talk to Kayla alone. She'd certainly given him the perfect opportunity to do so.

Kayla headed straight for the computer. "Okay, lemme get online a minute, and I'll pull up the spell I have in mind for you."

"That's fine," he said, following her. "I'm curious, though -- why do you think you don't have the talent? Is there a way to test for it?"

"Yeah, you try something and it works, basically," she said. "Or sometimes you have Sight and it's obvious. I used to. I don't now. End of story."

He raised an eyebrow. "You used to and now you don't? What happened?"

She frowned, then shook her head. "I'd rather not talk about it, Mark," she said quietly.

He reached out and took her hand. "You don't have to. But ... I do love you. It sounds like this is something that hurt you, and I'd like to share it, even if I can't make it better."

She closed her eyes, her face tight with pain. "Mark ... I lost my magic when I let Karen Wilson die."

He stared, shocked, then stepped up and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, love..." He held her tightly and kissed her forehead. "How did you 'let' her die?" he asked softly.

She shivered, leaning into him. "Don't sound so skeptical, Mark," she said. "I could have stopped it. I dreamed it all. But I didn't tell her, and because I didn't warn her, she and her husband are dead." Her voice was tight, choked with old pain and guilt.

He kissed her forehead again, then pulled back enough to look down into her eyes. "Did you know it was a precognitive dream?"

She closed her eyes, not looking at him. "I thought it wasn't. I thought I was just being paranoid. But ... part of me did think it was real, and even if I didn't, I should have told her. But I knew she'd believe me if I said it was going to happen, and then she'd leave and I'd be all a-alone again..." Her shoulders shook, and tears seeped from the corners of her closed eyes.

He pulled her close. "Oh gods, love ... I'm so sorry. So sorry. Love, you didn't know. Maybe you could have saved them, but maybe it wouldn't have made a difference." He held her tightly, stroking her hair. "How long ago was it?"