Bone Dry_ A Soul Shamans Novel - Cady Vance Page 0,10
or a threat. After I finished in her room, I needed to take a look around to make sure no other bedrooms had a rune carved into the floor.
I turned my attention back to the bones and looked down at the dried blood on my fingers. I was starting to realize why my mom used to carry around a vial of her own blood—as gross as that sounded—at all times. Pricking myself for the third time in one day almost sounded less enjoyable than banishing that spirit.
Almost.
Once I’d drawn more blood, I let each bone get a drop from my skin. Then, I began my low mumbling song, fingers curled around a necklace of deep blue beads Mom had picked up in Alaska. This spell was the only one that didn’t need a rune, a candle or any other supplies. Mom said bone magic was the strongest kind and created something so powerful it didn’t need any rituals. It only needed bones, blood and the ability to ignore how disgustingly creepy it was.
As I sang my shaman song, I held the bones together in one hand and shook them like they were a maraca. I slowly stepped up to each corner, grabbed a bone with my other hand and threw it into the corner where it fell with a light clink.
After I’d done four corners, I grabbed the tea packets from my bag and found my way back down the stairs, rolling my shoulders and taking several deep breaths. I hadn’t used my magic so much since…well, ever. My body begged for sleep, muscles tight, heart thumping. I’d bound myself to another shaman, banished a super powerful spirit and cast a protection spell all in an hour’s time. Luckily, that was all the magic I needed to do. The tea I was going to make for Kylie required no special incantations or magic. It had healing power all on its own. It might not bring back all the days the spirit took, but it would help her get back some of what she’d lost.
When I found the kitchen, my stomach grumbled at the mere sight of shiny pots and pans hanging over a marble-topped island. This kitchen looked a lot different than our own, with its grungy laminated floors and 70’s-style cabinets. I snatched a cookie from a silver tray and boiled some water in a fancy kettle. Then, I took the steaming cup of sage tea upstairs where Kylie slept.
Through our binding, I could feel Laura moving around the house, shaking bones and casting her own protection spell. The spirit had only been summoned into Kylie’s room as far as I could tell, but it was still a good plan. It never hurt to take extra precautions. I wasn’t sure Kylie would be able to survive another attack like the one today.
I coaxed Kylie into drinking the tea, packed up the rest of my supplies and looked around her room. I was tempted to go through her stuff to search for a note or some sign of why she’d been targeted. She was down for the count, but I didn’t think she’d be happy if she woke up to catch me snooping.
So, instead, I just took a cursory glance. When nothing jumped out at me, I moved down the hallway. I paused at several doors, peeked inside at the fancy furniture and oversized rooms and kept moving. Finally, I found the door I was looking for—her parents’ room.
It was twice the size of Kylie’s room and—unlike the rest of the house—a disaster zone. The sparkling clean kitchen tile painted a completely different picture than the clothing and trash-littered floor of this room. I saw an open door leading into a bathroom in the far corner, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to get over there with the obstacle course in my way.
I turned around and glanced at the other end of the hallway where Kylie was. Is this how her parents lived? It seemed weird to me, but I wasn’t going to pry. It was none of my business. I would get what I came here for—what was my business, spirit business—and leave.
I crouched, opting to stay where I was. My eyes scanned the floor, looking for any sign of a deep carving, and I saw something a couple inches away from the window.
I crept over to the far wall and peered down. It was a carving alright, but it wasn’t complete. It looked like someone had