Free Tracking Magic: A Rylee Adamson Short Story by Shannon Mayer

CHAPTER 1
     
    H olding a plank position with a plate of hot coals under my stomach was not my idea of a fun time. Strange, it seemed my mentor was enjoying my discomfort. Which meant I was in for a long haul on this particular exercise. Or at least, long enough till I got whatever point she was trying to make.
    “Hold your mind still. This is more about what’s going on in your head than your ability to hold yourself up. This is not about how strong your muscles are,” Giselle said, as she walked a circle around me, her feet tapping on the creaky wooden floor boards.
    Could have fooled me. My arms shook, sweat slid from my shoulders, down the middle of my back and pooled there, soaking into the waistband of my yoga pants. My sports bra had collected moisture until it, too, dripped as if sweating on its own. Giselle pushed my boundaries harder than I ever thought my body could be pushed, and then she went further.
    Like the coals below my bare skin.
    “I can’t,” I gasped, every muscle in my body screaming at me to stop, as they threatened to buckle. Already, I knew I would have to somehow throw myself to the side. How the heck I would manage that I had no idea.
    “Rylee,” –she crouched down in front of me, her eyes boring into mine— “you must be still inside of yourself. Let the fear go. It is the only way to survive in my world. Our world.”
    Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes and I tipped my head down to stare at the wooden floor while her voice washed over me.
    “I know you didn’t kill your little sister.”
    My body heaved as if it would physically block her words. But I couldn’t move, trapped between the fear of the coals below me, the pain my body trembled with, and the exquisite ache in my heart I could never escape.
    “Your parents, though they adopted you, now deny you; they believe you killed their daughter, yes?”
    The tips of my fingers curled against the floor. “Yes.”
    “You have a police tail at all times, yes?”
    I nodded, unable to speak, as my mind whirled with facing the truth Giselle tossed at me as casually as my mother threw mail onto the table at home.
    “Yet, you did nothing wrong,” she mused. “Still, you ran away from your home, solidifying your guilt in their eyes. They have no idea what they’ve tossed aside.”
    I wasn’t sure I was supposed to hear that last bit. But I didn’t care, couldn’t answer.
    “You are obviously supernatural. We only have to discover what it is you can do.”
    Shifting my weight, I prepped to roll to the left, the pain in my body and the heat from the coals as I slowly lost my fight with gravity, too much for me to bear any longer.
    Giselle blocked me with her leg. “Stay where you are until I give you leave to do otherwise.”
    “I can’t!” I said, throwing myself in the other direction, barely missing the coals, then hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I lay there, panting, heart jamming along, muscles still tense from the extended plank position.
    Giselle shook her head at me, then let out a heavy sigh. “You are not meant to be a part of the human world. You are a part of this one, the supernatural. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner your training can progress.”
    “I do accept it,” I spit out, saliva dripping from my lips. My gorge rose up, the exhaustion and mental games bending me into a proverbial pretzel. There on the floor, I questioned once more what the hell I was doing. This strange woman took me in under her roof and offered to help train me, maybe even help me find my little sister. But how was that possible when my sister was dead? Still, I stayed, hoping against hope that perhaps there was something that could be done. Something that would allow me to redeem myself, both in my eyes and my parents. Because, even though I was not convicted of my sister’s death, I knew in my heart she’d died because of me. Her death was my fault. I’d failed her.
    Giselle’s voice snapped at me. “Then why