Gunther's book of spells was back in its cubby behind the old man's bed before he returned from the fields, and he was none the wiser. Over the next year and a half, Joey snuck the book from its hiding a total of three times, and each time her pilfering was as undetectable as the last.
A few new spells were attained, Joey's favorite being the ability to propagate love in a person's heart, so long as the seed for it exists. Now this is love of the neighborly kind, mind you, not to be confused with the love of romantics. No spell in existence can coerce true love from a heart, the type of love on which legends are made. Such love is built upon something much more magical, mysterious, and powerful. But Joey could induce forgiveness and acts of kindness from potential enemies, provided their disposition was not too convoluted with hate. Along with the acquistion of a few new spells, Joey also learned the ingredients for a couple of interesting potions, although she had yet to test them out.
Lauren, meanwhile, continued to excell in her jintai studies, advancing from the traditional jintai weapon, known as a shaido, to the taidai, twin blades, each twenty inches long and much more managable than the shaido. These new weapons were like extensions of the young girl's body, so masterful was her ability to wield them.
During this time Joey's familiarity with the Sight improved, and her dream boy appeared with increasing frequency. More compelling than this strange boy from another world, however, was the vision of golden light pulsing in the forest. It called to her, this golden yellow light, beckoning with silky fingers. It was irresistible, drawing her like steel to a magnet. For reasons beyond her explanation, Joey believed it might be a doorway to this boy and his world. Perhaps it was a doorway to all worlds.
But she could not go in search of it. To do so would necessitate an explanation to her father, and what explanation could she offer other than the truth - that she had been summoning the Sight in defiance of her father's wishes? Joey loved her father dearly and could not bear to disappoint him. As things turned out, Joey's fears of letting down her father were of little consequence.
It was the third month of the new year, a Fourthday much like any other. The sun had just breasted the horizon, painting the Western sky with brilliant pinks and reds and yellows. The roosters crowed, announcing the dawn of the new day, and Joey sprang awake in a cold sweat, her heart pounding hard in her chest, her perfect breasts heaving uncontrollably. "Gods, no," she whispered.
The face from her dreams still loomed over her, clouding her heart with terror. Eyes black as coal burned with fury, eyes so hostile they could almost cut a hole through you with their icy gaze. A stout, slanted forehead, a sharp blade of a nose, rigid cheeks chiseled from stone, thin lips twisted in an unforgiving scowl, a long, narrow chin. She knew to whom the face belonged, even if she had never seen the man with her own eyes. It was the face parents threatened their unruly children with to scare them into submission. It was the face of the boogie man. The face of terror. It was the face of Luther. And he was coming here.
Leathery wings beat at the air, propelling a beast of a creature through the night sky. Scaly feet, as large as a small child and capped with sharp, vicious hooks for claws, were tucked behind the creatures haunches. Fierce, red, reptilian eyes peered out from its snake-like head, and dozens of teeth both as long and as sharp as daggers glinted in the moonlight as the beast soared through the heavens.
Mounted on the back of this monster was the true horror. A demon of a man, with murder on his mind and hatred in his eyes, rode his dragon in search of something. Or someone. Joey watched in abhorrence from her mind's eye as the demon-man spotted his quarry, his eyes lighting up like coals in a fire. The dragon dove from the sky, descending upon its prey.
Her vision shifted to show the target of this vile creature's wrath, and a scream that could not be voiced welled in Joey's throat. There on the ground, running in terror, was a lovely young girl, with beautiful, flowing brown hair blowing back from her face. The girl turned to look up at her pursuer, and Joey knew that face well. The silky milk chocolate locks, the wide, breath-taking blue eyes, the exotically beautiful bone structure, the curving, sensuous lips, the creamy complexion with reddish blotches high on her smoothly rounded cheeks - it was her, the lovely JoAnna Hart, running for her life, pursued by the devil himself. Then the dream ended, and Joey's beautiful blue eyes snapped open.
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