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Remember (Protectors of the Elemental Magic Book 1) - Marnie Cate

Remember (Protectors of the Elemental Magic Book 1) - Marnie Cate

 

Remember (Protectors of the Elemental Magic Book 1) by Marnie Cate

Book excerpt

Smoke filled the skies, and the heat from the flames of the burning homes and storefronts was unbearable. Main Street was empty. Stores that were not ablaze had been ransacked.

The ice cream shop, once filled with happy customers, looked as if a tornado blew through it. Broken tables, chairs, and meals littered the ground. My eyes fell on a silver name tag surrounded by ash. I cringed when I saw the burnt body of a waitress underneath. Her badge was the only item not blackened or damaged.

I forced myself to keep moving as I searched for anything or anyone familiar. I continued to find only destruction. It was futile. I was alone.

Fighting back my tears, I looked to the sky and cried out, “Gram, I am not strong enough!”

A blinding light surged through me, and I fell to my knees. My world went dark. The next thing I knew, a hand gripped mine and dragged me. Stumbling and confused, I pulled against my captor.

"Stop fighting me," the familiar voice of my grandmother scolded.

Gram stopped long enough for me to confirm it was her.

"Where are you taking me?" I questioned.

"No time for talking."

Once again, we were moving quickly through the tree line. I no longer resisted as my grandmother led through the forest. My home was being destroyed, and I didn't know who to blame or how to stop them.

The dark smoke grew thicker, and my chest burned. I began to cough. I fell to my knees, unable to go on any farther.

"No, get up. We are almost there." Gram ripped a piece of fabric from her dress and wrapped it around my mouth.

When the coughing stopped, she tugged my hand and encouraged me to stand. When I complied and she propelled us onward, our pace was even faster. Just when I thought I would collapse again, Gram stopped in front of a broad oak tree.

She looked around, though I wasn’t sure why. There was not a sound in the forest. We were alone.

Suddenly, she ducked into the overgrown plants. Her hand trailed the thick trunk of the tree. When we reached a split in the bark, Gram pushed me forward into the crevice.

"Hide here," she commanded.

I resisted and grabbed onto her. Choking back my tears, I begged, "No, let me go with you."

She hugged me and smoothed my hair. "Mara, my little one, always remember that you are my treasure. You must prepare to be strong for when the darkness appears."

"Don't leave me," I sobbed.

"Hush. You will hide and survive, Mara." She pressed a cold metal object into my hand and kissed my cheek. "This ring will be your guide when I am not here to remind you.”

I wanted to ask her where she was going and what I needed to be reminded of, but I never got my chance. With those words, she shoved me into the hiding spot and left. I struggled to hold back my tears. I resisted the urge to follow my grandmother away from the safety of trees and back towards the smoky flames of the burning buildings.

Clutching the ring, I could feel cold energy releasing from the blue stone. The surrounding silver calmly pulsed small, almost indistinguishable bursts of electricity like a heartbeat. The charm slowly chanted, “Go there, go there.”

But where? I wondered, closing my eyes, and centering my thoughts on the stone.

I saw the Starten Forest with its deep green and lush trees. The bright full moon shone above a nest. It was like none I had ever seen before. The large nest was made of silver twigs with a lavender glow in the center.

“I know where to go now, Gram,” I whispered.

***

A loud crash sounded, and I heard the cries of a child.

It was my sister, Meg.

She needed me, but I could not see where she was. I fumbled in the darkness, trying to reach her. My heart was racing as I frantically searched for my escape. I banged my shin on something hard and fell to the ground.

As I lay writhing in pain, a small crack of light appeared. Awareness washed over me, and everything began to make sense. I patted the hardwood floor underneath me before I laughed out loud.

I was not in the forest. Reaching up for the switch, I flipped on the overhead light and looked around my closet. I let out a sigh of relief that I was home.

Trembling as the adrenaline of my night terror began to wear off, I quickly exited the closet. The sounds of the busy kitchen below comforted me. I breathed in the sweet cinnamon pancakes and freshly brewed coffee. My home grounded me.

“It was just a dream,” I told myself.

Pushing away the unsettling dream, I looked around my bedroom. Unsurprisingly, my little sister's bed was empty. The nine-year-old seemed to have a surplus of energy that, even though I was only seventeen years old, I couldn't keep up some days. Meg was full of ideas and dreams that I had forgotten many years ago.

Sizzling sounds of bacon and the clatter of dishes being laid on the table jolted me into action. In Gram’s world, there was no sleeping in. Not wanting to worry her, I quickly dressed.

I glared at the wavy curls that plagued me, and I pulled my long raven hair into a ponytail. I should just cut it all off. I shuddered at my thought as I remembered the short haircut I gave myself when I was ten. I vowed to never play with scissors again after that day.

My image in the mirror would not please my grandmother. Gram would be concerned by the dark circles around my eyes, which only enhanced by my pale white skin. I didn't want to tell her the nightmares – that had been gone for so long – had suddenly returned. However, a full night's sleep seemed like a distant dream, and it was starting to show.

Quickly dusting my face with powder and lining my hazel eyes with dark purple, I looked at my reflection again. “Add some dark red lipstick, and you can look like a vampire from those old books Gram loves,” I said aloud. With a long sigh, I glossed my lips with cherry lip gloss and then practiced a fake smile.

It was time to join my family.

As I climbed down the ladder of the loft bedroom, I stopped to inspect each rung. The ladder was aged, and each step had a different name carved on it. On the sixth rung, I ran my fingers over the letters. Slowly tracing the letters, I tried to remember her. How can I barely recall this person – my mother?

“Today isn't the day to think of the past,” I scolded myself. Feeling frustrated for even thinking about her, I finished the descent down into the warmth of the kitchen and my family.

My grandmother's home – my home – was a large spacious house. When you entered it, you immediately felt a warm, inviting feeling. The colors of the house were bright and cheery, but not overwhelming.

 
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