Tracking Magic: a Rylee Adamson Short Story
“The summer air lay still. No wind, which was very unusual, and to be honest it creeped me out. I opened the door and stepped out, my feet crunching on the sparse brown grass— more dirt and rocks than plant life. I could feel Milly, her thread of energy still pulled me to the south, but there was no more road. We would be on foot from here on in.
“Can you still feel her?” Giselle asked.
“Yes, stronger now,” I said, then lowered my voice. “Something creepy is going on here.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she tipped her head to one side. “Why do you say that?”
I took a deep breath and slowly turned in a circle taking in the view all around us. What was it? Not just the lack of wind. No, there was nothing, no birds, no slight scuttle of a bug or sniff of a coyote. Nothing.
“It’s too empty,” I finally said, coming full circle to stare at Giselle. She slowly inclined her head.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
7 / 10
10 / 10
8 / 10
User Reviews: