Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series by Carissa Andrews (best book club books txt) 📕

to work.” Determination settles around me and I know she feels it. “Are you going to help me get this started?”

Abigail paces for a moment, wringing her hands. If she could be any more pale, I would swear she had lost a little more color. But finally, she tips her head. “I will do what I can. But the rest will be unto you.”

“Deal,” I say, nodding.

She returns the gesture, setting her concerned gaze on me. “Do you remember how it felt to be at the veil’s edge?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Good,” she tips her chin. “Go there again. When you arrive, cross the threshold. But brace yourself. That will be the moment when your soul will disentangle itself.”

“What should I expect?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She shakes her head. “Of that I do not know.“ Her arms sweep out, suggesting to herself.

“Oh, right.”

“You should contact someone. A living relative or—”

“No, absolutely not. There’s no time,” I say, cutting her off. “So, here goes nothing.”

For some reason, I’m compelled to lie down, so I do so. Resting next to Dominic, I reach out, grabbing hold of his hand, hoping it will act as a divining rod of sorts once I cross into the realm of the dead.

Anxiety and fears erupt in the middle of my solar plexus, but I push them down, refusing to give them space in my head. If I do, I know I’ll change my mind and everything will be lost.

Closing my eyes, I allow my body to relax until it feels as though it’s sinking into the dirt beneath me. Suddenly, I’m traveling beyond the confines of the resurrection chamber—whirling through the dense fog of the aether.

I follow the trail of Dominic’s silver string to the point where it disappears into nothingness. For a moment, I wait, staring into the utter blackness beyond. This is the mystery of the ages—scholars and philosophers the world over have wanted to know what’s on the other side, and here I am, about to go through with no desire to share any of it with the world.

I just want my friend back.

Settling into my conviction, I push myself beyond the edge of the known and into the darkness. Everything about who I am and why I’m here is ripped from me as I plummet through the gloom. Who I am, all that I was, feels like it’s compressed and the pressure of it is beyond excruciating.

Almost as if my body was sucked down a drain and spat back out, I find myself somewhere else entirely. At first, nothing makes sense. There’s screaming coming from somewhere—and everywhere. One moment I’m in a dark tunnel, blood dripping from the walls. The next moment, I’m in the middle of a large field full of tiny blue flowers.

Then I’m back within a dark cavern space and gruesome figures cling to the walls, fighting with restraints only they can see.

Everything is dizzying and I can’t seem to find my bearings in this place.

I stumble backward as a man with half a face crawls out of the darkness. His bony, half-decomposed hand reaches out for me, clutching at my leg. I hop back, struggling to get out of his reach, only to realize he’s no longer there.

Groping at my chest, I take a deep breath, but it’s solely out of habit—because somewhere in the back of my perception, I realize I’m no longer in my body. I’m alive, but…not.

What does that make me?

The thought is a curious one, and I contemplate it for a moment, trying to remember what it was that brought me to this place.

Music plays somewhere, and I’m suddenly walking down a well-lit, open hallway toward it. It calls me at such a deep level, and the concept of it widens until it’s the only thing in the entire universe.

Drawn to it at such a deep level, I can’t imagine being anywhere where this music doesn’t exist. The simple thought of that makes my soul ache.

Soul.

It’s such a simple thought—a simple word, but it sparks something inside me and I look around. A faint silver string captures my attention and I reach for it. It vibrates softly in my hand and information is passed through it straight into my consciousness.

I’m meant to follow it.

Curiosity burns inside my awareness and with the string resting gently across my fingertips, I move forward, allowing it to guide me. The dark and gruesome images subside, giving way to a large wooded area. The trees are enormous and lush, some draping their branches across the ground as they sway lightly in the breeze.

The trees open up, revealing a small pond. Steam rises from it, catching the sun’s rays in its search for the sky. Far out on the other side, swans gracefully settle into the water, making me smile.

I edge closer, wanting to see them more clearly. As I do, an old dock extends outward like a boardwalk to infinity. Without thought, I step onto, walking out as far as I dare.

When I reach the end, I take a seat, letting my legs dangle off the edge. Though I don’t remember taking off my shoes, my feet are bare and I dip my toes into the water. Oddly enough, I don’t feel a thing.

I stare at my feet, curious about the lack of sensation. However, my gaze moves from my feet, to the reflection in the water beyond. My red hair is wild with the wind and sun, but my face is far too young. For some reason, I can’t remember what I’m meant to look like, but I’m certain it wasn’t this.

I’m older. Right?

Twisting around on the dock, I scramble to my feet. Something isn’t right about all of this.

I’m lost…

Something glitters in the sunlight, demanding my scrutiny. I race down the dock, listening to the way my feet press upon the boards, making the most haunting music. When I reach the spot that caught my eye, I pick it up, and once again, it’s the silver string.

Had I