Rise of the Mage (Resurrecting Magic Book 1) by Keary Taylor

Author:Keary Taylor [Taylor, Keary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keary Taylor Book, INC
Published: 2020-03-23T18:30:00+00:00

I looked over at my father again as we walked across the wet grass. He stared down at the ground and he was so quiet. I barely even heard him breathing. His shoulders hardly moved as he walked. His hands were tucked into his front pockets. His brows were furrowed.

We’d told him everything. Everything we knew, all the things we could do, and I realized then how little that was.

We didn’t know much of anything.

We didn’t know our story.

We didn’t know our limits.

But we’d told my father, and we’d told him that we thought it was the reason my mother had disappeared.

He’d said almost nothing. He’d sat or stood there, listening intently. He’d watched as we’d showed him what we could do. He listened as we told him about the books from the library. And when we asked him if he’d known anything else, he’d blinked a lot, and I could see him wracking his brain.

He said he’d go through Mom’s family history more thoroughly. He said he’d have to look through his books and think about it, if there were any that were more than they seemed.

Nathaniel and I looked at each other and we knew we’d pushed him as far as we’d dared. So, as the sky outside the windows grew dark, I’d put a hand on Dad’s back and told him we should go home and get him something to eat. He’d blankly nodded, and then we all walked for the doors.

I’d said goodnight to Nathaniel and watched as he walked across the lawn back toward the solarium.

Dad remained silent as we walked down the sidewalk and through the front door of the house. He sat in his usual chair in the living room, staring at his bookcases, while I set to making soup for dinner.

I started chiding myself as I cooked. I shouldn’t have told him. This was too big. It broke his mind. I’d pushed him too far, because this involved my mother, who he loved more than anything in this world.

I should have just kept it to myself.

Why didn’t I protect my father?

I was set to apologize to my father as I set his bowl down on the table. I determined to find some book that would teach me how to remove memories. I’d make him forget somehow. I’d make this right.

But when my father sat down at the table, he stared across the room and I could see he was in deep thought. His eyes were slightly narrowed. His hands were curled into loose fists.

I took a deep breath to apologize and somehow take it all back, when he suddenly launched into words.

“In the six months leading up to your mother’s disappearance, she took trips up to Boston or Salem nearly every single weekend,” he said. His eyes shifted over to me. “And she always came home with stacks of books. I didn’t think anything about it at the time, because, well…” He gestured all around him, indicating the endless bookcases around our house, all filled with books.

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