Interference: Book One

by A. F. Presson

  “Ok, ok. I got this. How does it work?” Ren asked.

  “Walk up to the stone and lay your palm against it. Stonedell will assess your intentions.”

  Ren swaggered to the stone wall with his game face in place. He cleared his throat and straightened his spine as he lifted his hand to the wall. At first, nothing happened. He waited for several seconds until finally glaring over his shoulder toward Quinn. “This damn thing is brok . . .'' Ren flew back against the tree with so much force, I thought he’d broken his back.

  We lifted him to his feet as he shook his head, stunned and slightly pissed off. He stomped over to the wall again, determined to gain entry. Angrily throwing his palm forward, the stone wasted no time in tossing him back on his rear.

  “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed, lad? Why are you here? Let the wall see your purpose, if there is any.” Quinn shook his head, exasperated, and turned away from Ren.

  Again, Ren stood in front of the wall, contemplating his plan of action.

  “Search your heart, mate. Gotta be some love in there somewhere,” Quinn yelled.

  Ren’s eyes found mine. Breathing heavily, he focused on me. He placed his hand upon the stone, and the rock shimmered as if it had gone invisible. Ren stepped forward, his body crossing the barrier to the enchanted land.

  Drake’s mouth tightened as he balled his fists. “If we survive, he and I will have a lot to talk about.”

  “Lets focus on the surviving part,” I mumbled.

  Neela stepped up next, as calm as I’d ever seen her. This woman didn’t have a drop of ill intent in her body—she had nothing to worry about. Her palm calmly raised toward the stone, and it immediately shimmered, letting her through.

  I glanced up at Quinn. “If I don’t see you again, thank you for everything. We wouldn’t have made it this far without you and Hillie.”

  Quinn smiled, “Anytime, ruler of Regalians. You change things, we may move back.”

  I grinned. “You better.”

  “Don’t forget, Mercy. This place will turn you inside out before it’s done with you. It only allows the strongest to pass, and it’s different for everyone. Use your power in every decision you make.”

  I turned toward Drake, my heart full of emotion. “See you on the other side.”

  He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  The wall was much more intimidating when you stood right in front of it. The power it held intimidated me, and my palm shook as I raised it forward. I had to bury my hatred for the aunt that destroyed my family—hide the hostility I felt every time someone mentioned the word Seregalo. Concealing my hatred was my only option.

  I thought of my parents and the land where they first met, and being there with Drake warmed my heart as happiness drowned out everything else in my mind. A power I wasn’t expecting reached out, tickling my palm and calling for me. I stepped toward it, hypnotized, and found myself in an empty stone room, the lack of windows shrouding it in darkness. A thin layer of dust covered the stone flooring—not a footprint in sight. Large rectangle stones created a fortress type atmosphere, and although I couldn’t see outside, I felt as though we were in a tall tower—isolated from anyone that could hear my call for help. My stomach dropped at the thought.

  “Ren? Neela?” I called out, but only the echo of my voice responded. I waited a few minutes for Drake, but quickly realized that Stonedell had separated us. Fear crawled up the back of my spine and tried to belittle my power, telling me I’d never make it alone. Whether or not this was part of the spell, I had to forge on, ignoring anything that could hinder me from succeeding.

  I could barely make out a small entrance, maybe two feet across, on the other side of the room. The air pulled at my magic, inviting me toward the tunnel. The black hole of death was about as inviting as Central Park at midnight. Cold stones emitted a chill throughout the tunnel, and a constant drip of water kept a steady rhythm in my ears.

  As if carried by a breeze, a whisper traveled past me, “You shouldn’t be here.”

  It disappeared as fast as it arrived. I closed my eyes and breathed, reaching out for any sign of another presence up ahead. It was vacant.

  My fingertips grazed the stone wall, feeling for a shift in the rock—or anything to guide me. Claustrophobia kicked in as the walls tightened, and hot breath blew across the back of my neck. My upper arms pressed against the cold rock, and I had to turn sideways to fit through the tunnel when a pain-ridden scream reverberated throughout the corridor. Neela.

  Panic overwhelmed me and I closed my eyes at the memory of Quinn’s comforting voice. “Use your gift, Mercy.”

  I pleaded for my emotional interference gift to calm me. My mind needed to maintain clarity. Concentrating on night vision, I expanded my senses until a hint of light shone from the tunnel behind me. That wasn’t possible. I had come from that direction.

  I inched my way back, the walls tightening around me, and after what felt like an hour, I found myself surrounded by a circle of tall, narrow mirrors bordered in thick gold frames. The glass ceiling displayed the new moon above, taunting me with the trials of Stonedell. Every reflection in each mirror conjured a unique image of myself at different times in my life.

  The first reflection, on my knees, crying over my dying father. My eyes swollen and wet—my posture defeated. Next, my expression slack and my eyes lifeless, pointing a gun toward my head. The weapon shook, but my face showed nothing: no nervousness, no fear, and no doubt. I looked dead inside. So many times through childhood, I imagined this very image and the painful reminder brought forth buried memories. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  The images continued on and on. Kissing Drake on the roof, holding a dying Cassie, hugging Nora, screaming on the subway—then—a small child sat on the ground all alone. Her long dark hair matted, and her clothes worn and dirty. A trio of girls stood behind her, laughing and pointing at the sad, deprived soul.

  I repeatedly watched this image, sympathizing with the girl and not knowing how to process it. I didn’t even remember this time in my childhood. I’d put it out of my mind—learning to do that early on saved my sanity.

  The last image held the most important piece of myself, and the gratefulness I felt at witnessing the moment overpowered the sadness brought on by the mirrored room.

  My parents cried over a dark-haired baby, naked on my mother’s bare chest. Sweat rolled down her face from labor as my father leaned forward, kissing the top of my head with tears in his eyes. They stared at the child in wonder as a ripple of current ran through the room.

  The smiles turned to shock as they realized what that meant for me, and my mother shook her head fiercely, mouthing the words, “No. No, please.” She wrapped her arms tight around the small newborn—then her eyes widened in surprise at something happening in the room.

  Shouts of pain from my mother replaced the calm. Then, rejoicing over a second, beautiful, red-haired newborn laid beside the first. Twins. A whisper ran through the tower, “Marley.”

  I took a step back, away from the confusing vision. How could this be possible? Someone would have told me, wouldn’t they? Memories surfaced of my father trying to tell me something important in the library that day. My knees hit the hard floor, and my body shook. A sister. I had a sister. Did she know I existed?

  My heart squeezed painfully at the thought of missing out on a sisterly bond. One that would have made my life a little less lonely. Dr. Lee said Aadya knew I would come for her. Was she using my twin as bait?

  As soon as I made the decision to save her, small cracks in the glass appeared, then shattered around me in slow motion, flying throughout the room. I turned, my gaze taking in the small slivers sitting frozen in the air. Then, the bottom of the floor fell out from under me.

  Bright white light replaced the darkness, blinding me as I fell through the air. After several seconds, my face slammed against hard ground as pain and warmth shot through my bottom lip. Blood dripped down the front of my shirt a
s I pushed up from the ground and fought to see in the blackness surrounding me. It was nightfall. Gigantic trees hovered over me, roots as wide as my waist. The trunks were large enough to drive a small car through, and it reminded me of pictures I’d seen of the redwoods in California.

  The glint from the stars appeared abnormally bright, and the moon looked close enough to touch. From the clean, crisp air to the green grass, everything was too perfect. At first, the thought crossed my mind that I’d arrived in Seregalo, but I soon realized that Stonedell was just getting started.

  The quiet forest observed my every move, waiting and watching. Bright yellow eyes perched on the limbs of trees—my only companions—and I talked to the creatures as if they understood.

  “Alright, guys, Help me. Can you point me to the way out?”

  A slow blink was my only response.

  “Bored with me already? I’m offended.”

  Surveying my location, there wasn’t an obstacle in sight. No tunnels, no mirrors, just the pitch black sky hovering over me like a shroud. I walked for what felt like several miles, searching for a way out. A stream appeared in front of me as it ran over smooth round rocks and disappeared back into the trees. I bent on one knee, cupping my hands to drink from the stream and regroup.

  Rustling in the distance gave me pause—the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears. I reached out, the source of the noise directly in front of me. I expanded my hearing range and detected someone running toward me. The shuffling of feet indicated more than one set, so I kept low to the ground and crept back into the camouflage of the trees.

  Hiding behind the trunk, I pressed my body as flat as I could against the bark. A petite figure in a gray hooded shawl ran out into the clearing and skipped across the stream, cradling something to their chest. Fear and desperation rippled through the air around them as they bolted toward the other side of my tree, concealed by the wide width of the trunk. I peeked toward the hooded figure as they pulled the blanket tight around the bundle. A hint of red hair peeked out from the women’s cloak as her green eyes searched for an unknown threat.

  My mother, but who did she cradle? More footsteps followed, and she closed her eyes as a shimmer surrounded her, shielding herself with her gift. Four men—Custos—rushed through the trees with rage-filled expressions. Angry shouts echoed through the night air as they ran past us, searching for the mother and baby on the run. My mother released the shield she’d put in place and leaned against the tree, sliding down to the ground, sweaty and exhausted. She pulled the blanket back and rubbed the thin red hair of the infant.

  “Please, God. Please protect Noah and Mercy, as you have Marley and I. Please protect my family.”

  Tears rolled down my cheek as the vision dissipated in the night air. Seeing first hand, the desperation and despair she went through as she fought against Aadya, brought a sense of sadness, but also pride I couldn’t describe. I stood for several minutes, digesting what I’d witnessed. The crackling of firewood and smell of smoke pulled me in the direction I came from. A soft humming drifted in the breeze, seeping into my soul and calming my nerves.

  I tiptoed toward a campfire, constructed in front of a giant tree trunk used as shelter. My mother sat beside it, drinking from a hot mug and cooking over an open fire. A thin twig snapped underneath my shoe and her head popped up.

  “Who’s there?” She called out.

  Something told me I’d never get the opportunity to speak with her again, and I should relish it. I wanted it—the chance to meet the woman who sacrificed her life for her daughters.

  I stepped out of the shadows and her shoulders relaxed. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “My name is . . . Nora. Nora James.”

  A hint of a smile broke across her face at the sight of me, as if we shared the secret of my true identity. She didn’t call me out, but love and adoration filled her eyes.

  “Are you alone, Nora?”

  “Yes. I smelled the smoke and hoped someone would offer food and shelter,” I lied.

  “I’m Annabel. The fish is almost ready. You’re welcome to eat with me. Please, come and sit.”

  I sat across from her, and I couldn’t help but stare. Older than the previous vision, but still beautiful.

  “How old are you, Nora?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “So young to be out here alone. The forest can be a dangerous place at night. Where are you headed?” she asked.

  “I, um . . . I got lost. I thought it would be a nice evening for a walk, but I guess I went too far.”

  My mother scraped the fish from the pan and slid it on a tin plate. “It isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing. Eat up.” She smiled.

  “Did you catch this yourself?” I asked.

  “I did. Fishing used to be mine and my husband’s favorite pastime. We’d spend hours on the bank, catching and releasing—just being together.” Her head dropped thoughtfully and sadness filled her eyes. “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

  “I do.” The realization that I could talk to my mom about my boyfriend stirred emotions deep inside. I paused for fear of crying. “His name is Drake.”

  “What a unique name. Some friends of ours have a son named Drake. He’s only fourteen or fifteen, but there’s something special about him. I can feel it. Someone will be lucky to have him one day.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, “My Drake is pretty special, too.”

  “He’s good to you? Takes care of you?” she asked.

  “He does. He’d lay down his life for me.”

  Mom grinned at my response and nodded, as if she were pleased. She studied my features, entranced by my eyes, then quickly turned her attention to the flames. “You remind me of someone, Nora. Someone I love very much.”

  “Do you and your husband have children?” I asked.

  Her gaze never left the fire. “Twin daughters actually, thirteen years old today. We have to watch them from afar, though. We would give up our lives to protect them.”

  Tears streamed down my face at her words, “So, you’re able to see them?”

  “I watch over Marley here in California and Noah is in New York. He stays with the oldest, Mercy. She’s a unique girl, and it’s important she’s protected.”

  “They are very lucky to have someone that cares so much,” I cried.

  “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sometimes my mouth runs away from me.”

  “I know a little about that,” I chuckled.

  We ate our dinner together in silence and my heart swelled at the precious gift. What had I done to deserve this? A question nagged at me, and I knew if I didn’t ask, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

  “Tell me, Annabel. If you could tell your daughters one thing, what would you want them to know?” My voice faltered on the last word, but I recovered.

  She smiled in my direction, and for a few seconds, I felt as though she looked straight into my soul. Not at Nora, but at Mercy.

  “I would tell them we were always with them. We never abandoned them. I would tell Mercy that one day, she will have to make a very important decision about who she is and what impression she wants to leave on the world. Seregalo needs her.”

  “That is beau . . .”

  “And I’d tell her to stay strong. There isn’t anything wrong with breaking down from the stress that awaits, but afterward she must rise up and take what is hers.” A tear glistened as it rolled down her cheek. “Rise within the Rage Fire child, it will protect you.”

  Her form shimmered as a single tear rolled down her beautiful face. Everything around me shattered into tiny sharp fragments and evaporated into thin air. I sat in front of the tree, cold and alone as I broke down. Sobs escaped my throat as I leaned forward, gripping the green grass in my fists.

  An ear-splitting scream reverberated throughout the trees and I jumped to my feet. I ran toward the noise, unconcerned about the danger that awaited. In the distance, two Custos guards held m
y mother against a tree as she fought their grip. Her body sagged, tired and weak, as Aadya stood before her with her palm on my mother’s head. Mom screamed against Aadya’s intrusion.

  “You might as well tell me where she is, Annabel. Don’t you want the torture to end?”

  My mother stayed silent, never breaking eye contact with Aadya. Her misery continued as Aadya dug deeper for information until mom’s eyes met mine, almost apologetically, before she fell lifeless in their arms. An evil smile broke across Aadya’s face.

  “Get Marley, it’s time to go home.” Aadya ordered.

  They turned, leaving her body unmoving on the ground. I rushed toward her, but within a few feet of picking up her limp frame, the scenery vanished.

  New York. I’d know this city from anywhere. Car horns blared on the crowded streets and the smell of food trucks hovered in the air. I sat in a small alley, huddled against a brick building. Across from me, a homeless man with a scruffy beard stared out onto the streets, stretching his neck and keeping a watchful eye. Something about the man looked familiar, and I realized who sat under the torn clothes and filth—my father. I followed his line of sight, and we were sitting across the street from my school.

  “Stonedell can be brutal. Am I right?” he asked, continuing to watch the doors of the high school.

  My head spun in his direction, surprised he’d addressed me so openly.

  “It can be. It can also offer gifts such as this,” I whispered, tearful.

  “I sit out here every day, waiting for you to leave school. Sometimes you’ve been crying. Your eyes will be swollen and red. I’ve watched you run from the building, laughter echoing from the halls behind you. It was all I could do to stay seated by this old building. Watching the torment on your face nearly tore me apart, and if I had known what you went through at home—I would have swept you away in a heartbeat. I hope you know that.”

  I blinked, attempting to clear my vision. “I do.”

  “On the rare occasion, I’ve gotten to see a smile as you walk by. What a gift that is.” He smiled at the memory.