Ben swam to the dock and hoisted himself up on the edge. He pulled stones from his pockets and handed them to me.
“Will these work to skip?” he asked.
“Some of them. See these flat ones that are easy to hold? They are the best.” I tossed a stone and watched it glide across the surface. One, two, three, four skips before it sank back to the bottom of the lake. I handed one to Ben.
“You try,” I said.
Ben tossed the stone. One skip before it sank.
“You’ll get better with practice,” I told him. He leaned into me, so I wrapped my arm around him.
“We forgot towels.”
“Yeah. We did. Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t think about it.” I drew him close.
“Can I ask you a question and you promise not to yell at me?” Ben asked. I nodded. “Do you miss Mom?” He looked toward the horizon as he spoke.
“Every day,” I admitted.
“Why won’t you talk about her?”
“Because it hurts, I guess,” I answered.
“I’m forgetting her. I don’t mean to. I don’t want to, but I am.” He cuddled into my side. I rested my chin on his damp hair. “I want to remember her.”
“I can’t talk about this. I’m sorry. I just can’t. Dad can help you remember.” I veered my eyes across the lake, avoiding the look of disappointment twisting his features.
“I want to talk to you about her. Not Dad. She was your mom too!” he squeaked out.
“No, actually she wasn’t,” I snapped. I jumped to my feet, accidentally knocking him back into the water in my hurry to escape the situation. I stormed down the dock back to solid ground. I stood there on the wet grass, frustration boiling over, tightening my chest. I turned back toward the lake. Guilt grew, gnawing at me.
“Ben, I’m sorry!” No answer. “Ben!”
The water was calm. No ripples or splashes breaking the surface. Quiet. I raced down the dock, my heart pounding in my ears. I frantically searched for Ben, waited for him to pop his head up. The water remained still. I looked down from the edge of the dock.
He appeared asleep, gently floating, face up toward the heavens. His arms spread out like he was ready for a hug. His hair a floating halo around his head. My heart raced as a deafening scream tore through the air. My scream. My throat tightened as fear and anxiety swirled in my chest, both fighting for control. I pushed against the cloud of panic fogging my mind. Ben. Ben. Ben. Save Ben. The sky darkened as I dived from the dock. The water engulfed my body, wrapping me in its cool embrace and sending my anxiety into overdrive. I propelled myself through the lake, lungs burning. I grabbed Ben around his waist, positioning his body on my shoulder as I placed my feet on the lakebed. I pushed up and broke the surface so quickly it seemed impossible. I placed Ben’s still body on the dock as the rain fell along with my tears.
“Ben!” I shook him. His skin was sickly white, eyes closed. “Don’t leave me, Ben. Please! You have to live!” CPR. I can do CPR. I began pounding on his chest. One, two, three. How many times do you push before you do a breath? He needed air. I pressed my lips to his popsicle stained mouth. My limbs shook as I tried to force air into his lungs. Isn’t his chest supposed to rise? Why isn’t it rising?
“Jewels!” Dad’s voice pierced through my panicked thoughts. He was on the shore, near the house, brown paper bag in hand being drenched in the rain.
“Dad! Ben’s not breathing!” I screamed. Dad dropped the bag, its contents spilling to the ground as he raced toward me.
“Ben, please don’t go,” I cried as I wrapped his little body in my arms. I pressed my face to his. Please don’t die. My necklace vibrated against my chest, sending every hair on my body on end. My veins burned as if my blood was acid. Every nerve ending screamed in pain. “Live. Be okay. Live, Ben,” I whispered in his ear. Dad’s feet pounded against the wood dock.
Ben jerked against me as his mouth opened and water poured out in a forceful wave. Dad was now by my side, pulling Ben to him. Ben went limp. His chest gently rising and falling, lungs now empty of water and filling with air.
“Ben! My baby boy. Ben,” Dad cried as he hugged him. Ben’s eyes opened. I shook all over, pain coursing through me. I leaned forward onto my hands as I tried to steady myself. From the corner of my eye I caught sight of a large catfish floating in the water, eyes glossed over. I averted my gaze to the lake. Dead fish floating at the top covered the lake.
“Dad?” My voice quivered, barely able to reach whisper volume. The pain retreated as Ben opened his eyes. The necklace now motionless around my neck. The thick, humid air had a chill to it.
“What happened?” Ben asked.
Dad kissed him repeatedly, all over his face. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re okay. You’re okay. My sweet boy.”
Dad kept an arm around Ben and reached out to me, pulling me into a triple bear hug. Then he looked at the lake. His eyes grew big and full of concern and wonder.
“Daddy, what happened to the fish?” Ben asked.
“They’re dead,” he said. “Jewels, honey. It’s time I tell you something.”
“No shit.”
I sat on the couch wrapped in a heated blanket like a cape when Ben came running from the bathroom in his dino PJs. I opened up my arms, and he snuggled against me as I engulfed him in my embrace, pulling the warm blanket around us. I held him, breathed him in, thanked the universe for his life. My necklace warmed the skin beneath it.
“Jewels, what happened today?” He looked up at me.
“I knocked you in the water by accident. But I pulled you out and you’re okay now,” I told him.
“Why don’t I remember?” he asked me.
“I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re all right.” I held his face in-between my hands and pulled him close, fluttering my eyelashes against his cheek. “Butterfly kisses.” He giggled.
“Can we watch cartoons?” He grabbed the remote from the coffee table. Dad walked into the room, the black book with silver stitching in his hand.
“You go ahead, kiddo. Jewels and I need to talk.” Dad’s eyes locked with mine as he waved his hand toward the kitchen. I passed the blanket to Ben and tucked him in on the couch, while he flipped through channels before finally settling on a show with some cartoon dog and a talking bone. I found Dad at the kitchen table with the book in front of him. He gestured to the chair next to him and I sat. He slid the book to me. With my finger I traced the beautiful silver stitching of our family name, Farrington.
“What I’m about to say will sound unbelievable, but I promise it’s true.” Dad’s face was flat, controlled. “You’re a witch.”
“You’re right. It sounds ridiculous.” I crossed my arms and watched his expression, trying to see through his words to the truth. “Why am I just finding this out? Or a better question is how?”
“When you were born, I suppressed your powers with a binding spell.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It’s complicated.” Dad clasped his hands in front of him and his knuckles turned white.
“Well, uncomplicate it.” I met his gaze.
“I can’t do that right now.” His expression never wavered as he locked eyes with me.
“Of course you can’t.” I threw my hands in the air and leaned back in my chair. “Why stop your lying streak. You’re on the way to a world record.”
“Jewels…”
“What about Ben? Is he a witch? Is that why he’s alive?” I questioned. The pendant moved on my chest, sending tiny tingles up the chain around my neck.
“Yes. He’s a warlock. That’s what male witches are called. But he’s alive because of you. You did that.” Dad reached over and opened the book. He held his hand above it, closed his eyes, and suddenly the pages started turning. Slowly at first and then more rapidly before stopping. The top of the page read ‘Life Giver’ and there were images and text beneath it I didn’t understand. He opened his eyes and looked at me. “That’s a spell to bring things ba
ck to life. You somehow did that, or something similar.”
I traced my finger across the intricate designs swirling around the words. A sketch of a cat with Xs for eyes was on the corner of the page. “What happened to the fish?”
“All magic has a price. Always remember that. We cannot create energy, just move it from one place to another. The simplest way to describe it is you moved the life force from the fish into Ben.” Dad’s face darkened and he frowned.
“My necklace vibrated when I had Ben on the dock. It was my necklace. It brought him back.” My hand encased the necklace, intertwining the chain with my fingers.
“No, it helped focus your thoughts into useable magic. It’s a family heirloom and was worn by many of your powerful ancestors. But you did it, your power, not the necklace. It’s designed to help the wearer harness their natural powers and keep them safe, but it doesn’t cast spells on its own.”
“But how? You said you suppressed my magic. Why is it suddenly turning on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should I be worried?”
“No. Of course not.” His cheeks flushed a tad, and he twisted his wedding band around on his finger. Liar. For the first time during our conversation, I knew he was lying. Why is he such a Liar McLiarson?
He turned his attention back to the book. He held his hand over it and the pages turned, stopping towards the end. A long list of names sat before me. “Your magical ancestors, all of those who have owned this book.” So many names in beautiful calligraphy filled the page. The last name on the page, ‘Joseph Farrington’. The space below his name lit up with a soft, white light. When it faded away, my name appeared. Dad closed the book and handed it to me with a smile.
“I can have it?” I caressed the worn leather in my hands.
“Yes, it’s yours now. With the stipulation, you don’t try any spells without me. Not yet. I need to figure out what’s going on with your powers first.
I crossed my fingers behind my back. “Okay, I won’t. But can I look through it?”
Dad’s eyes narrowed, and he locked gazes with me. I felt a tingling wave rush over me and as quick as it came, it was gone.
“I guess that won’t hurt.” He leaned back in his chair, watching me admire my new book.
“Thank you,” I said as I pulled it to my chest, my spell book.
“You’re welcome. It’s your Book of Shadows. You will learn from it and add to it over the years.” He patted the dark leather cover. “We’ve had a long day. We can talk more tomorrow.” He sighed. “One more thing before we join Ben on his cartoon binge. Magic, us being witches, it’s all a secret. You can’t go telling people, not even Ben for now. That isn’t just to protect you. It protects the entire magical community, and it’s a rule all must follow.”
I nodded, and he smiled at me.
Dad scoured the fridge and pantry. He loaded his arms with cans of soda and filled mine with chips and jerky before we joined Ben on the couch. We snacked until our bellies were near bursting and laughed until our hearts were overflowing with joy. For one night at least everything was right in the world. I felt complete and special.
I was no longer Jewels Farrington, the loser girl who has no friends, no boyfriend, and no life.
I was Jewels Farrington, powerful witch.
Some Korean boy band’s debut dance mix blared in my ears as I crunched on a generic sugar filled cereal Mom would have never let me eat when a bunch of glossy pamphlets landed on the table in front of me. I picked up the first one and stopped my music. A perfectly posed picture of a girl in a school uniform, Book of Shadows in her hand, beamed up at me. ‘Legends Academy - A Witching Academy For All Mythical Beings’ was across the top.
“Legends…” I began reading between bites of cereal.
“Hello! Welcome to Legends Academy,” the young woman in the picture said. My mouth fell open and bites of cereal dropped back into the bowl.
“Hello…” I stammered. It took all I had to squeak out the greeting.
“I can’t wait for you to join me on campus. We have excellent teachers and a wide variety of extracurricular activities. See you at orientation!” The girl grinned and hugged her Book of Shadows close to her chest. Once she went silent, the picture returned to its initial state.
“Um, thanks. What’s your name?” I asked. No reply. The picture remained static. I brought it closer to my face as I stared at the schoolgirl. “Hello?”
Dad chuckled and took the pamphlet from my hand.
“Legends…” he began. The girl started talking and moving again. Exactly the same as before.
“So she’s like a recording triggered by saying… you know… the school’s name?” I asked.
“Very good. It’s a simple enchantment meant to inform and entice you. I didn’t know they still did this. They started doing this back when I was picking a school.” Dad sipped his dark, warm liquid caffeine.
My mind traveled to the picture still in my backpack. Hiddencrest - Junior Year. Now was my chance to demand who the girl in the snapshot was. To ask who my birth mom was. My stomach turned and contorted into knots. My mind drifted back to the boat, when I confronted Mom about my adoption and the tragedy that followed. All because I had to push, I had to demand an answer; I had to know the truth. I wasn’t convinced I’d get any closer to the truth with my dad than I had with my mom. Chewing my tongue, I flipped through the other brochures, mindful not to read them aloud until I located the one I wanted.
This cover had a group of students standing in a courtyard. “Hiddencrest Academy - Exceptional Education for the Magically Inclined,” I said. They started walking, laughing, and chatting with each other. A guy in the group looked up at me.
“Are you ready to be exceptional?” he said before continuing to walk. Once they all exited the frame of the picture, it reset and again they were motionless at the center of the image.
“What about this one?” I asked.
“Ah. Of course you’re attracted to that one. My old alma mater.” Dad sat next to me, his second cup of coffee in his hand. “I loved that school. Great memories. However, you don’t have to go to any of them if you don’t want to. You can stay home, keep going to a normal school, and I can teach you a little magic on the side.” He sipped his coffee. “You don’t have to decide today. As your dad, I have to say this. You’ve had a rough year and I worry about you going away from home. I want you to stay here. Learn a little magic, start seeing Dr. Shay or some other therapist again, and be near me and Ben. But I won’t stop you if you choose to go.” Dad stood, kissed the top of my head, and poured himself a bowl of cereal.
“Did you figure out why my powers aren’t suppressed anymore?” I asked.
He stiffened. “I’m still looking into it.”
“Are you going to tell Ben he’s a witch?”
“Warlock. And yes, soon. After I find some things out.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that going to school meant leaving home. My skin crawled and gooseflesh covered my arms. The room seemed to close in on me. My chest tightened like that time Mom caught me and Cade under the bleachers with our clothes half off. Until now just the idea of going away for college next year terrified me, let alone leaving home now.
Last summer, before Mom died, I tried to go to overnight camp for a week, but my parents had to come get me because being away upset me to the point of full-blown panic. But so much has changed since then. A year ago, Mom was alive, and I didn’t know my parents were lying to me about my entire life. If I couldn’t trust Dad to tell me I was adopted or a freaking witch, I definitely couldn’t trust him to teach me everything I needed to know about my powers or magic. Besides learning how to control my powers, going to Hiddencrest could mean finding my birth mom. The girl in the photo, Alure, obviously went there too. Maybe she’s my mom. Why else would Dad have kept the photo for so long?
Ben. Going away meant leaving him. He was so young. A lump formed in the pit of my stomach. I gnawed on my lip
as I envisioned telling Ben I was leaving. There would be snotty, red-faced crying. His little tear-filled face would break my heart. There would be relentless begging. His trembling voice knew just how to trigger the guilty weight that permanently sat on my chest, crushing me into an anxious mess. There would be red-hot anger. He would lash out, the way he had seen me do so many times since Mom died. His only goal would be to hurt me, to hurt me the way my leaving would hurt him. Would learning magic be really worth it? An easy question to answer. No. But magic plus learning who my birth mom was. That would be worth it. I decided then that if I went away, the only school worth going to was Hiddencrest. It was the only one where I might find out who my birth mom was. Unless I asked. My stomach knotted as my tongue formed the words.
“Is Hiddencrest where you met Mom?” I asked.
“No. You know I met her in college.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot. Was Mom a witch too?”
“No, she was human.” Dad turned his back to me so I couldn’t see his face.
I finished my cereal and ran up to my room. I sat on my constellation bedspread and opened up my Book of Shadows. He finally tells me I’m a witch but still won’t admit Mom adopted me? What about my birth mom is so bad he’s still hiding it? I flipped through the book, admiring the detailed drawings and swooping calligraphy. A page titled Levitation caught my eye. I read the wrinkled paper, my fingers moving swiftly along, keeping my place. Simple enough. I glanced around my room and set my sights on Elephante. The stuffed elephant sat against my headboard. His gray fur worn, his once perky ears droopy with age, a few stains, all signs that he was well loved. I gave him a quick kiss before placing him on the bed. I held my hands above him.
“Levitas Volatilis,” I said. Nothing. I pulled Elephante to my chest and breathed in his musky familiar scent. I read the page again.
Levitation. A basic skill important for all witches and warlocks to master as the only ingredient is raw magic and the appropriate words or thoughts. The simplicity of the spell allows it to be used anywhere in any situation. A clear mind and focused energy are imperative to success. Be aware that the heavier or larger the quantity of objects one attempts to levitate at a time will result in a quicker power drain and will require a longer recovery period.
The Siren Jewel: Spellbound Prison Saga Page 3