Nightwalker

Thirty

She raises her hands in defeat, and sits down on her bed, cross-legged.

I flip the book, surprised at how many markings the book had. Whole sentences were underlined, highlighted and circled. She'd written in the margins of the book almost obsessively and made me wonder just how much time she spent trying to get to know who she was.

''Avid student, I see.''

''I can't put it down. There's so much I want to know.''

I was privileged enough to have a family full of warlocks who I could confide in. People who knew the strength I harboured and the capacity in which I could excel. Riordan didn't have that. From what Marvallia told me, she was already emotionally estranged from her mother, Rayanne, before she died, which is why she didn't know of her abilities so late in life. Her father, River was mundane--a human with no real concept of the supernatural world.

If all I had were ancient guide books, a retired psychic and a hesitant warlock to navigate my abilities, I would be constantly longing for something more.

Looking into her hopeful, curious eyes were enough for me to figure out just how much she wanted something tangible--something to be proud of. Something her mother would be proud of her for.

Despite the havoc finding out more about herself could potentially reek, I felt like I owed her.

It's was the clairvoyant condition.

Those around them are attracted, captive beneath their wants and desires.

''The geasa I'm going to use isn't gonna be easy on you. You might feel dizzy for a bit."

''If I can handle the power dampner, I can handle this.''

''Suit yourself,'' I push my energy onto her with both hands,''Dìrich.''

Riordan's body lifts off the bed, unfurling her legs from their crossed position. She was breathing heavy now, presumably startled by how quickly we started.

''You okay?''

''I bet you're enjoying this.''

''I am. And I'm about to enjoy it a whole lot more.'' The guidebook she had mentioned that warlocks were the only supernatural force to bring back lost memories, and suggested geasa from an old grimoire that we could use.

However, the geasan in her guidebook were outdated, so I decided to put a little spin on geasa I was taught a couple years ago.

Holding my hand out right in front of her, I recited the incantation.

''Eirich cuimhne, tillidh smuaintean caillte,

tro lasair lasrach, loisgeadh na cuimhneachain.

Le gliocas saoi, 's le gràs labhan,

nochd mo chuimhneachain, lorg an t-àite ceart.''

The floor beneath my legs rumbled for a few seconds. Riordan's body floated limply in the air as eyes dashed from side to side, a sign that the spell was searching her memories.

I call out her name, hoping she wouldn't reply as that would mean the spell is working.

When she doesn't reply, I let out a breath of relief.