Wielder

Chapter 1 - The Golden Butterfly (Part 2)

The very air felt revitalized. Alie reached out her hand to a flower that curled over the sidewalk at the edge of the lot. Its petals were as smooth as silk, and laced with tingling energy.

"This is crazy," Michael said. "I must be dreaming."

"Then don't wake up," Alie grinned.

He caught her arm just as she was about to step onto the path. "We shouldn't."

"Why not?" Before he could argue, she tapped the toe of her shoe against the first cobbled stone, to show him there was nothing to fear. "See? It's fine."

"I don't like it."

"You worry too much." And she drifted onto the path, without a care.

The moment she entered the garden, she felt the power radiating from the center archway as strongly as if she had touched an electric fence. It made every hair seem to stand on end. It turned her arms to goose flesh and made her teeth tingle. The night air felt crisper. The trickling stream seemed louder. She felt dizzy under the song radiating from the metal, a hum of a hundred voices singing out the promise of adventure she so craved.

There was no doubt about it. This place was magic.

And it called to her. Oh, how every fiber of her being longed to race into its embrace. How her very lungs ached to breathe it in. How every thought raced right out of her head except for the single, burning desire to pursue, pursue, pursue.

Michael's grip on her wrist bit hard against her bones. She winced, whipping her head around to snap at him to let her be. But when she saw the horror on his face, she paused.

"You're not listening to me," he urged, as if he had been pleading with her for some time. "We followed the butterfly and saw where it went. We should go home, now."

"I'm not going home." The words left her lips before she knew whether she wanted to speak them. But they were true, and she didn't make any effort to take them back. "Not now."

"I've never seen you like this," he argued, firmly shaking his head. "It's like you're possessed."

"I'm not possessed," she laughed. Although, maybe she was. He was right. She wasn't herself. She never charged headlong into anything.

But this was magic. Magic! If there was anything she was going to charge headlong into, it would be that.

Especially with the way it whispered to her that every story she'd ever dreamed of could come true at its touch...

"Snap out of it!"

"What? I'm fine!" Alie jerked away from the archway she had somehow come within inches of touching. The metal rang out, calling her closer. A horrified chill raced down her spine. She hated to admit it, but the magic of the garden was really starting to pull her in. "Okay, maybe I'm not fine."

Michael released a heavy sigh. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Reluctantly, she followed him out of the garden. The moment her shoes struck the concrete of the sidewalk, she felt drained. The dry air of summer scratched at her throat. Her limbs felt weary, as if she had just exercised for hours, not minutes. The song tugging at her heart dimmed, and the silence that remained left her empty and alone.

She stopped walking halfway down the street.

Michael stopped a few paces ahead of her, turning back to her. His brows furrowed together in worry, but his voice was soft. "What is it?"

"It's just..." She swallowed a lump in her throat, surprised to find herself so close to tears. "This is everything I have ever wanted. And I'm walking away from it."