Please go away. Please. Please. Please!
“If you have an idea of what you’re looking for, maybe I can lead you in the right direction,” she offers.
Realizing she won’t allow me to simply browse on my own—I suppose it is too late for that—I open my eyes and steady my breath with slow, calm exhalations. I keep my gaze on the stacks before me. I am diligent as I scan the spines, noting every single title, every single author name.
“I—uh—I’m looking for something about crystals,” I say, never glancing over.
“Oh! I have some wonderful texts on crystals. Are you a beginner?” she asks.
“The history of crystals. Maybe magical uses,” I say, ignoring her query. I try to remain as vague as possible because asking for books on the dark arts must raise red flags.
“You know, I just got a really interesting book in stock. It’s an older text. It has some modern-day uses for crystals, but it focuses mainly on historical uses from cultures all over the world. Perhaps that will interest you?”
I nod, relieved. An old text about the use of crystals in ancient cultures must have the answer to my predicament. Perhaps if I find out more about the amulet and the dark entity, Malik will forgive me this one discretion.
“Yes, that sounds like exactly what I’m looking for,” I say.
“Great! Let me just grab it from the back room. I haven’t completely unpacked my latest shipment.”
Again, I nod, pretending to be distracted by the other books in front of me. I finger the spines, attempting to look deep in thought. I’m certain I am failing miserably, but the shopkeeper disappears into the back room and returns a few minutes later with a beefy, leather-bound book in her arms. She cradles it to her chest as she approaches me.
I keep my eyes lidded, gaze pointed downward, hoping it’s enough to hide my irises. It must be, because she never mentions them.
“I’ll take it,” I say quickly.
“Don’t you want to take a look at it first?” she asks. “I don’t mind if you peruse the pages before purchasing. It might not be what you’re looking for, and I do have other texts on crystals.”
I peer up, glancing at the tome. As much as I am itching to leave, she’s right. I have to be sure the book indeed has the information I need, so I nod, taking the book from her hands and scanning the cover.
“I’ll be at the register,” Luna says before walking away.
When she’s behind the counter, fully engrossed in her book, I can finally breathe. Being around humans is exhausting. I have no intention of doing this again, so I need to be sure I find everything I’m looking for.
I sit, legs crossed, as I search the book’s table of contents page. Not finding anything of real value, I flip to the back and check the index. When I find a section labeling different types of crystals, I search for black onyx, holding my breath the whole time. When I find it, I flip to the correct section.
Scanning each page printed in neat, tiny letters, I find not just what I’m looking for but also so much more.
Black onyx is a powerful protection stone used to absorb and transform negative energy. It also helps to prevent the drain of personal energy.
This makes sense. Mamá said she wore that particular crystal for protection. Being a powerful spirit user, she would only need protection from negative energy—something we can’t always see. She could protect herself from physical threats but not invisible threats.
Black onyx is also used for meditation and dreaming. When using black onyx for either of these purposes, it is recommended to use a secondary grounding stone in combination with black onyx. When used properly, black onyx can help the user become master of their own future.
I reread that passage again while thinking about my own dreams. Ever since I took control of the amulet, my nightmares have been more vivid, more raw and real, and I am dreaming about the past more often than I used to. It’s getting harder to decipher what is a dream or nightmare and what is a vision.
I grab on to the crystal, feeling it warm against my hand. I wear the amulet to bed every night, too afraid to remove it when I’m at my most vulnerable, and if this passage is correct, it is influencing me, just like Malik fears.
Additionally, black onyx aids the development of emotional and physical strength and stamina, especially when support is needed during times of stress, confusion, grief, or transformation.
I frown. Transformation? What does it mean by transformation? Still holding the amulet, I bring the crystal to my lips. My skin tingles at the contact, but I am too engrossed to pull away.
Every ancient culture believed in the power of black onyx. Ancient Egyptians believed black onyx caused detachment between the body and the soul. It also aided transformation by treating the blood disorder. It is said to strengthen life, from the heart to the nerves to the blood, expelling evil.
* * *
Similarly, black onyx was popular among the ancient Greeks. Black onyx was such a prominent crystal in Ancient Greece, a fable was passed down through the generations. Onyx is the Greek word for nail or claw. Ancient Greeks believed darkness used its claws to cut the divine flesh of Venus while she was sleeping. Her blood scattered across the sand, so the fates turned the mixture into stone so that no part of the heavenly body would ever perish. This is what formed the black onyx crystal, and it is believed to be the only stone capable of returning ash to earth and restore the spirit, eliminating darkness and restoring light.
I suck in a sharp breath, rereading the fable over and over again, unbelieving of what it says. I continue on with bated breath.
Because of the black onyx’s power, it has been used in the black arts to summon evil spirits and dark entities capable of possession. But if used properly, only the black onyx crystal has the power to vanquish this evil and restore the soul.
A knot has formed in my throat, threatening to steal my very breath. As terrified as I am, I cannot avert my gaze. It is glued to the words, soaking in the information shared on these aged, yellowing pages.
The use of black onyx is painfully clear. While the stone’s power is abused by those who dabble in the dark arts, it was meant for greater things. I was born into magic and have used it all my life, but it still has the ability to leave me awestruck at its capabilities.
It is believed to be the only stone capable of returning ash to earth and restore the spirit, eliminating darkness and restoring light.
Perhaps my coven was onto something when they completed that dark spell to sever my vampire half. But in focusing too much on their own incantation, they failed. If only they’d properly harnessed the power of black onyx, there just might have been a way to restore my humanity after all.
I close the book and run my palm over the stiff, aged cover. Without title or author name, this tome looks more like an old grimoire passed down through the family than published nonfiction. Solidifying my assumption, the only thing adorning the front cover is a symbol. Burned into the leather, leaving a dark crease in its wake, there is a cross, but instead of the top arm, there is a loop. I trace the circle with my fingertips, a rush of energy surging through me.