Eliza's Shadow by Catherine Wittmack Read Free Book Online Page B

help
me?” I sputtered angrily.
    Ren’s eyes flared. He ran his hands through his
hair sending it in all different directions and growled with frustration.
    “Because the boli is magic, in its most primal
form. If anything could open your eyes, it would be that.” He argued.
    He flushed and his dark eyes flashed bright like
they’d been set on fire. They drew me in like a moth.
    Suddenly Cora’s face popped into my head. I felt
her hands on me. I blinked recalling the dust from her fingertips, falling on
my eyelashes.
    “What is a pharos?” I asked, my voice quivering.
    Ren grimaced again and looked hard at me, like he
was trying to anticipate my reaction to his unspoken words.
    “A guide… for a new…witch.” He said carefully,
though the word launched off his tongue like a firecracker.
    The broken shards that were my life began to
shuffle and stick together. I thought of Cora, marking our house in Moco, the
red dust spilling before our door and my mother’s face trapped beneath the
glassy swamp water. I felt Cora’s hands on me. I heard her words.
    Child, someday, you will have to face the things that frighten you.
There will come a time when all this confusion goin’ sort out, then you’ll
understand more ‘bout your mama, more ‘bout yourself. Don’t you worry any about
that today. You’re a strong girl and when that time comes, you’ll be brave,
won’t you?
    I slid off the rock and started to back my way up
the beach toward a set of stairs that led up to Main Street.
    “Eliza, wait!” Ren said scrambling off his
boulder.
    I put my hands up in defense.
    “This is crazy.” I said shaking my head, though a
terrible gnawing feeling warned me to listen to him.
    “Eliza, will you just let me explain?” He asked
plaintively.
    I took a deep breath assessing his deflated
appearance. Despite the implications his presence held for me, he didn’t look
like a threat at the moment. In fact, he looked almost as scared as I felt.
    “I was going to stop by Bishop’s Tea Room before
heading home. Can we talk there?” I offered reluctantly. It was starting to get
dark and the dissipating light made the beach feel lonely and bleak.
    “I’ll go anywhere you want to go.” He said
sounding relieved. A hopeful smile spread across his face as he tentatively
crossed the distance between us.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    6
     
     
    The diminishing light made
the journey up the footpath more treacherous than necessary. We climbed a set
of old wooden stairs and stepped onto the brightly lit street. Suddenly, I felt
turned around on my own street. Ren’s intense gaze was incredibly distracting.
I was grateful that I’d reflexively led him in the correct direction and
thought that, maybe, if I could just get him talking, the intensity would lift
and my head would clear.
    “So, how’d you end up in Port Rune?” I spouted
flippantly looking for an easy topic of discussion.
    Ren’s expression darkened and his voice fell.
“Before I came here, I lived in Africa, you know.” He said drawing in a breath
as if the topic was uncomfortable for him to discuss, “My parents were assigned
to a new project back there and they thought it was too dangerous for me. So,
they sent me here to stay with my grandmother.” His lips pressed in a line and
eyes clouded with thought.
    “Oh, I’m sure you must miss them. I’m sorry to
bring it up.” I mumbled, wondering if there was any safe topic between Ren and
me.
    Ren’s expression hardened.
    “They didn’t give me a choice.” He said edgily.
    I quickly averted my eyes regretting that I’d
pried into such a touchy topic. We walked on in pensive silence for a few
minutes. I waited until the hard lines of his expression softened before
attempting another topic.
    “So… have you always lived in Mali?” I asked
tentatively.
    Ren’s eyes brightened. “Well, my dad grew up in
England and my mum is from here. Nan is my mum’s mum. My father’s family home
in England is our