Shadow Blood: Kallen's Tale (Witch Fairy #4.5) Read Online Free PDF Page B

cannot see me.  The same is true for her and Dagda and the others.  She has been pacing just as I have.  Every few minutes she stops and stares at my circle, sighs in frustration and then starts pacing again.  I could take down my circle to explain what happened, but that door may reappear with Shadows opening it.  The risk of the Shadows being let into the realm is greater than either of our impatience.
     
    If I could only create water out of thin air, I could build figures in the sand like Kegan and I did as children.  I was quite good at erecting an exact replica of Grandmother’s house.  Which Kegan would then destroy, forcing me to retaliate against him in some way or another.  I suppose nothing good really came from us building things with the sand.
     
    After four hours, I find my bladder to be even more impatient than I am.  I wonder what the chances are that Xandra will show up just as I am about to pee in the sand.  Not to mention, how long do I want to be near the sand I pee on.  I will wait a bit longer before I find out.  I go back to imaging what it would be like to have sex with Xandra but I find that only aggravates my bladder issues.  Perhaps it is time to think of something else.
     
    I try juggling sand for a while.  I guess spinning it would be a better definition.  I use my magic to get a hundred pieces of sand to jump from hand to hand, then in the air and then back to my hand.  I do this faster and faster, creating a wind storm in my circle.  When a piece of sand makes its way to my eye and sets up camp, I let the sand drop back to the beach.
     
    Eight hours now.  Grandmother has created a chair for herself but she barely sits in it.  I am not sure if she just feels better pacing or if she has to go to the bathroom as well.  When she creates what Cowans used to call an outhouse, my question is answered.  Focusing on my grandmother’s biological needs is not a good sign that I am staying sane in here.
     
    Night has come now with still no word from Xandra.  No word from any of the Angels either.  I hope that they would tell us if something went wrong.  I am going to assume they would. 
     
    I have tried several things to keep me busy.  I created a basket and a ball to test my aim but I began to worry that I would inadvertently hit my circle walls with the ball.  I experiment with creating bigger and better slingshots.  I even spend time trying to meditate.  But nothing holds my interest longer than a few minutes.
     
    The moon has reached its pinnacle in the sky now.  It’s a full moon so it provides plenty of light.  Not that I need the light for anything.  I still have nothing to do besides worry.  I have made myself a cot, which I am lying on, but sleep is eluding me.  Every time I close my eyes, a noise as familiar as the tide hitting the shore will open them again; hoping that Xandra is finally home.  Grandmother is not faring any better in her circle.  She stopped pacing hours ago but has not transitioned to lying down yet.  She is sitting in the chair she made earlier and tapping her foot in the sand loudly enough for me to hear.  When my eyes are closed, it sounds like the beach has a heartbeat. 
     
    The rational part of my mind tells me that sleep will make the time go faster until Xandra returns.  But my heart keeps spitting in my mind’s eye and telling it to shut up.  I am as far from being able to sleep as I have ever been.  With hands underneath my head I stare up at the stars as if they have the answer to when Xandra will be coming back.  When, not if.
     
    Has the night always been this long?  Now that I spend my nights with Xandra, they always seem so short.  This one is long enough to truly be torture.  I am in physical pain from the strain of my muscles tightening more and more as each slow minute of the night passes.  My body is in a constant state of readiness; ready to face whatever Xandra needs to escape from to come home.  I