Pure Magic (Ballad of the Seer, Book One)

Chapter 3 - Bad Dreams

The pavement was rough beneath Lily's bare feet. The frigid wind whipped at her pale blue dress so hard, she feared she might take flight any moment. Fighting against the gales, she continued down the deserted street. Everything beyond the edge of the streetlight's glow was cloaked in darkness.

"Hello!"

A steady rhythm beating hard against the street made her turn. It was the green boy. He was running her way. But he wasn't running toward her as much as he was running away from a terrible, menacing black cloud that followed him everywhere he went, consuming everything in its wake. No matter how fast he ran, or how far, it was always right on his heels.

Lily held her arms out wide. She embraced him when he came to her and held him tight. She never wanted to let go. She desperately wanted to save him.

But who would save her?

She gasped as the black cloud descend upon them. It swallowed them up. Everything went dark.

Lily lurched up in her bed. A scream escaped her throat. Her heart thumped loud in her ears. Sweat beaded on her brow and soaked the collar of her shirt. She panted to catch her breath. Tears streamed from her eyes. She fell back against her pillow, wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

It was only a dream, she repeated, both in her mind and out loud. The steady rhythm of the words lulled her back to sleep.

When she woke again, it was morning. She pulled a pillow over her head to block out the sunlight beaming through a gap in the curtains. With a deep breath, she threw off the covers.

A few minutes later, she climbed out of the shower and dried off. The ancient intercom system crackled to life. Her mother's voice announced that breakfast was ready.

Lily didn't bother blow-drying her hair. She had nowhere to go. It didn't matter if her hair wasn't bouncy and light today. She put on her favorite jeans and the old concert t-shirt she confiscated when her father tried to get rid of it.

By the time she walked into the dining room, barefoot with wet hair, the dream was just an afterthought. The boy from the lake, however, was not. He was all she could think about as she passed by her family sitting around the end of the long dining table. Lily took a seat at the opposite end to wait for her food.

It wasn't long before the gray-haired butler appeared from the kitchen. He set a plate of french toast before her—her favorite.

When Lily thanked the old man, he gave her a smile and left the room again. He had worked for her great-grandmother for half a century, and he showed no signs of slowing down.

Lily's mother was busy sketching designs for her spring collection. She was a somewhat famous designer. People paid high dollar to have an original Jacquelyn Bishop creation. She was the reason for their trip to Paris. It had long been a dream of hers to own a boutique there. After twenty years, she had one.

Lily's father examined something on a yellow legal pad. His reading glasses were hanging on the tip of his nose, his head tipped back to peer through them. He picked up his phone to dictate a text: "Patti, it's Henry, I need you to pull the following case files for me." He proceeded to list several names.

Meanwhile, Lily's little brother looked as if he'd just awakened. He was in the midst of staging a battle. His action figures fought on the edges of the boiling pit of lava that was his oatmeal. Jacquelyn admonished him. "Parker Isaiah Bishop, stop playing with your food, young man."