"This uh...I'll admit that I've never taken a girl to a funeral after a first date," Shawn mutters nervously as he flips up the collar of his coat to protect his ears.
The graveyard is quiet and the grass is damp from a misting rain that is hanging over this part of Salem as we silently approach the gathering of black-clad people who have yet to take note of us, the ground squelching under our tread.
I can't help the fact that my lip curls into a wry smile as I nod along with him. After 'meeting' with Astrid's aunt and leaving her house I didn't have too much time to get around and prepare myself for the funeral, yet here I am after rushing to get here.
"We both knew her, it's not too strange," I assure him even though my heart is pounding in my ears and my tongue feels dry and tasteless in my mouth.
I feel distant and at the same time too close to the reality that I'm about to enter as we draw closer to the mourning people. Cynthia's casket is still out, as it has yet to be lowered as a man in a suit holds a bible in his hands and recites several passages from it. I reach out and stop Shawn as I duck behind an oak tree, its massive boughs squawking and creaking like the sides of a wooden ship as a chilly breeze tugs my hair away from my face.
I don't want to get any closer because in retrospect, all I did was find Cynthia, I didn't know her and if Luke really did murder her then I was responsible for not stopping him sooner. I sigh as I gnaw the corner of my lip, what am I expecting to gain from this?
"Kara?" Shawn starts to say, but I'm not listening to him as I shake my head.
I can hear some of the mourners crying, a man and a woman standing the closest to the casket appearing to be the center of this and I immediately notice them from my Facebook search as her parents. My throat aches at the realization and I feel guilty for being here to snoop around, but Finn said I needed to be here.
Now I just have to figure out why.
I search the crowd from a distance and pick out faces and start to assume their relationship to her. A group of girls around her age may be swim teammates while a young boy who has similar colored hair might be a brother.
Movement just past the cluster of mourners catches my eye as I spot a large pond that has a light layer of ice still clinging to its surface. A couple of geese are out walking on the ice as I start toward the pond and make sure to keep my distance from the funeral as I walk the long way around.
"Kara?" Shawn's voice is hushed as he jogs to catch up to me.
I ignore him, the urge to walk over to the pond keeping my focus away from everything else as I navigate past granite headstones. The only hesitation I have is when I step over bouquets of flowers that have been laid out, their petals long since shriveled as the color has bled from them. Twigs snap under my boot-steps as I shiver and pull my coat closer to me, a chill rolling off of the pond making me cold.
I stop at the edge and look down at the ice before I scan the shoreline across the pond. The geese that are out on the ice pay no mind to me as they continue to waddle across, a distant squawking coming from them as I glance around.
"Kara, what are you-?"
I look at Shawn when he abruptly stops talking, his eyes focusing on a spot that is just past my head. His brows furrow and I turn to follow his gaze.
Up on the shoreline maybe twenty-paces away there is a face peering around the dark trunk of a tree. They step out when I notice them and I realize then that I recognize them.
Finn.
"Uh, hello...?" Shawn suddenly calls out and I freeze.
Shawn can see him?
The breath catches in my throat when I blink and Finn is suddenly no more than a step or two away. Shawn swears from his place behind me as he jumps back, his voice coming out loud as the geese on the pond startle and take flight.
"Shhhh," Finn says as he lifts a finger to his lips in a hushing motion.
"How did you-?" Shawn begins to sputter, but Finn cuts him off with a glare.
"Kara, it's not safe for you, I was wrong to ask you to find Cynthia's killer," he tells me as he meets my eyes, but it's like he's looking right through me as I shiver.
"Finn, I want to help," I protest, but he shakes his head firmly.
"They're going to kill you too, get out of Massachusetts, now," he warns, his words sending chills down my spine as I blink at him uncomprehendingly.
"Finn-," I start to say, but he's suddenly there and gone, like he had never been there to begin with.
"That was...that was a ghost, wasn't it?" Shawn says softly after a moment.
I spin around at his voice, the realization ever-present in my mind, "How were you able to see him?"
He looks down at the ground then, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as he stares at the grass beneath our feet.
"Look...Cynthia, she was-, she was different okay? My family...I'm different," he explains in a low voice as dread begins to overtake me.
"Like you dated her different or-?" I start to ask, but a rush of relief overtakes me when he shakes his head.
"No, no, just...it's complicated, you wouldn't understand and you'd probably think that I'm crazy," he says as he takes a few steps away from me and mutters something under his breath.
"What did you say?" I ask as the words catch in my throat, I myself not believing my ears.
"I said 'magic...doesn't exist for you'," he murmurs as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red.
"Shawn, what do you mean? Like witches?" I whisper as my heart beats faster in my chest, the sudden rush making me dizzy.
"I know it sounds crazy-."
I cut him off with a hurried shake of my head, "Shawn, it doesn't, it really doesn't," I assure him as I quickly look around to make sure that we're alone.
I dare to summon a tiny blue flame in the palm of my hand and his eyes widen at the sight as I almost let the flame disappear out of fear. He takes a slow, even breath before he nods.
"Cynthia was a witch," he says quietly before he looks me in the eye, "and so am I, but I'm only a quarter of a witch. I have no real powers, just...sensitive to feeling magic sometimes but I can't really use it," Shawn explains hurriedly, his voice coming out in a rush. "My grandmother was a witch and my grandfather wasn't so my mother was half and my father wasn't a witch either."
I stare at him for a long moment, my heart in my throat as I watch his face for any indication of him lying.
"You're telling the truth?" I ask him at last, my voice coming out as a whisper.
"Of course I am, Kara, I wouldn't lie to you," he tells me earnestly, one of his hands coming up to rest on my upper arm.
Even through my jacket I can feel an unnatural heat, a connection that I've only ever felt with sensing familiars as the sensation takes me by surprise.
"You have a familiar," I say in a quiet voice.
"What?" his brows furrow at this as he gives me a confused look.
"A familiar, did your mother ever go to a witch academy?" I ask as I dare to look him directly in the eye.
"No, she was half so she couldn't summon one," he elaborates as he looks out toward the pond, his dark eyes flashing with the late evening sunlight.
"I think...I think there's a way I can maybe summon yours," I say and he glances over at me, interest burning deeply in his gaze.
"How?"
It's a single word that has so much hope in it that my heart squeezes in my chest.
"Just...trust me," I assure him as I reach out with my mind for the thread connecting him to the familiar realm.
He nods at this and shuts his eyes like he's expecting whatever it is to happen next to hurt him. I focus then, the connection weak but there as I unravel it slowly. The air shimmers next to him, an outline sluggishly coming into existence, like mist rising off of water. I can sense the power in the familiar even though the connection to it is faint as Shawn's eyes snap open like he's realized that something has changed.
"Trust me," I repeat to him as I squint at the outline beside him.
A creature appears then, the details of its fur suddenly and brilliantly there as matching dark eyes blink back at me. I almost believe that his familiar is a fox for a moment before I realize that it's taller and dog-sized. Large, dome-shaped ears flip up to listen to me as it takes a step forward, its stocky, black legs carrying it as it softly pads across the grass like it's floating.
Shawn shies away when he sees the creature out of the corner of his eye, his gaze snapping to mine as he opens his mouth to say something, but can't find the right words.
Standing next to Shawn is a wolf.