Page 50 of Haunt Me, Maybe

Sure, this time we had the benefit of knowing how Wes affected my magic, but we weren’t sure how much or if it would be enough.

“I still don’t understand how this is better than the attic,” I said, and took the next curve at nearly a crawl. “The wards worked…mostly. But with your help, it should be better this time.”

Wes snorted and phased his hand out the window. He could have just rolled it down. “The wards worked until they didn’t.”

So helpful—not. When I didn’t respond and still hadn’t increased the speed past twenty miles per hour, he gave me a sideways look, one that was cheeky but also somehow serious.

“You’ll see.”

The lack of transparency did nothing for my nerves. He and Fenn had some kind of conversation earlier and had come to an agreement concerning my training. An agreement they refused to explain to me. Something about having to see it to understand.

We have a plan, Fenn added, and I rolled my eyes. Plans are good.

Sure. When all parties involved were aware of them. All I knew about today was that we were going to train somewhere besides the attic. The old mill, Wes said. It sat at the far edge of Amber Grove, where the town thinned, and the river widened into something slower and heavier, in the opposite direction of Sunhallow Farm.

The road to the mill was narrow with cracked asphalt and overgrown weeds. Out here, fences leaned, trees crowded, and the air was thick with river mist. Even before I saw the mill, my magic stirred, like a dog that caught a scent. Still watching me, Wes noticed the second I did.

“You feel it already.”

I nodded, tightening my fingers around the steering wheel. “It’s…loud.”

“That’s why we’re here.”

The old mill emerged from the trees like a memory the town forgot how to let go of. The stone walls were darkened by decades of rain and softened by the ivy crawling up the sides. Its multiple broken windows reminded me of eyes, empty and forlorn. It was beautiful in a sad way.

As I drove closer, I noticed the waterwheel was half rotted and frozen in place, moss choking the paddles. By the look, it should feel abandoned, but it didn’t. I pulled the Jeep off into a gravel lot and put it in park. The moment my boots hit the ground, magic flooded through me in one giant swell.

It pressed against my chest and ribs, reverberating through me like a low note struck on a massive bell. This wasn’t warm and nosy like the café, or playful and mischievous like the corn maze. This magic was older. Ancient. It fell on me with the weight of years, like something that’s been waiting a very long time to be noticed.

“Oh,” I breathed.

Loneliness rolled off it, enduring and patient; the kind that came from watching the world move on without you. I left Wes and Fenn behind without meaning to. With each step toward the mill, the land reached for me. It pulled, low and resonant and strong, causing my bones to ache and my magic to answer before I could stop it. Fenn croaked in alarm, and Wes lurched forward to grab my arm.

“Easy,” he warned. “The magic here might be a little strong. I don’t want you getting lost in it.”

“It won’t hurt me,” I told him. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but the words rang true. “It’s been waiting.”

Waiting for someone like me to come along and notice it. The mill creaked softly as we approached; its wood shifting and stone settling in air that felt thick and charged. The three of us stepped beneath the invisible umbrella of power while Wes kept a careful watch on my face.

Nothing happened. I didn’t know what he was waiting for; me to glow or levitate or something? Fenn hopped ahead, eyes bright with a hope I hadn’t seen from him in a while. He never wanted me to stop using my magic, but nothing we tried had worked, and he eventually had to agree that hiding was my best option to stay alive. Now he was in front of something powerful enough to save us.

The ley lines converge here, he said. They amplify everything but also absorb.

Understanding settled over me like a heavy cloak. This place was a literal shield. It was a game changer.

“So if I use my magic here…”

“It won’t echo as far,” Wes finished for me. “You won’t stand out.” That knowledge sank into my bones and eased the tension I always carried. “Do you trust me now?”

I shot him a playful grin. “Trusting you was never the problem.”

It was for me, Fenn grumbled.

I rolled my eyes at my familiar’s antics. I knew finding this place gave Wes a lot of brownie points as far as Fenn was concerned, but he was never going to admit that. It risked ending the less-than-silent feud they both seemed intent to stay locked in. I pushed past them, urged on by the quiet entity that was practically jumping with joy for me to introduce myself.

Inside, the mill felt cooler and damp with history. Water lapped somewhere below, telling me the basement was probably flooded and unusable. Sunlight spilled in through the broken windows, and every step felt watched.

“Careful,” Wes warned. “Some of the floorboards are rotten. And don’t go near the stairs—the second floor is a death trap.”