by Susan Harper
Norah brushed herself off a bit and nodded. “Yes, she’s only had it for an hour at most, but I believe the Angel half of her soul has attached to it. I can tell she is feeling much better now.”
“Then we need to talk to her. To find out who killed Angel. She might know something. She might have seen something… And if she is Angel, then wouldn’t she know who killed her? It would be like talking to the victim, right?” Holly asked.
“It would. She and Angel share one mind, one soul,” Norah said.
“This is really weird to think about,” Abigail said. “But how did Holly not notice she was part-Ibeji? If her soul doesn’t become two wholes until adulthood, how then does she not remember half her soul being gone?”
“I suppose it is because Morgan separated them so young. She wouldn’t have known any different,” Norah suggested.
“We can worry about that later,” Holly said. “We need to find out what really happened.”
“You’re sounding like a clueless mortal,” Norah said. “Angel is not really dead, you understand? It doesn’t matter what really happened, now, does it? We just all need to go out there and put on the face of mourners so the mortals don’t get confused and upset.”
“It does matter, though,” Monica said. “Whoever killed Angel was actually trying to kill Holly, remember?”
“Oh!” Norah said, seeming surprised at her own lack of awareness. “You’re right. I haven’t even been thinking about that. I’ve been so worried about keeping Joseph from getting too upset over the whole thing and about making that doll for my daughter. I’m sorry, Holly. You are absolutely right. We need to find out who hurt Angel’s body because they were actually trying to hurt you. Or at least, that’s what Officer George believes.”
“Can you get Anniston to come in here? So that we can speak privately?” Abigail asked.
“Yes, I think I can handle that,” Norah said. “Just give me a moment.” She slipped out of the room, leaving Monica alone with Holly and Abigail.
“This is all too weird,” Holly said. “I’m an Ibeji, then?”
“Ibeji haven’t existed in centuries,” Abigail said. “I remember a few of them being around when I was a little girl, back in the Salem era, but even then, they were rare.”
“So what happened exactly?” Holly asked.
“Immortals,” Monica said. “Thousands of years ago, they ruled over the mortals and mystics alike. Then the mystics started fighting back…hard. Their numbers had dwindled to essentially an endangered species level during the witch trials era. Then during the Split, when the mortal world and mystic world were separated, the Sorcerer’s Council hunted the last of the immortals down. Except for one, it sounds like.”
“My grandfather,” Holly said, her face flushed. “But my dad isn’t immortal, is he?”
“Half-breeds don’t live forever,” Abigail said. “If he is only half-immortal, he’ll age just like mortals would. They’re usually a bit stronger. Smarter than their mortal counterparts. But for the most part, they take after their mortal parents. Joseph probably doesn’t have a clue that he’s half-immortal if his mother never told him. Who’s to say his mother even knew she had a baby with an immortal, though? She might not have even known. Immortals blend in well with the mortal world—far better than us mystics.”
“Did you ever feel, I don’t know…weird when you were a kid?” Monica asked.
“Like I was missing a part of my soul?” Holly asked. She seemed to be thinking hard on this. “I guess I always felt…different as a kid, like something was wrong, but I thought that was just part of being adopted. Like, worried I didn’t fit in. A little self-conscious.”
“Wait a minute,” Abigail said suddenly. “The ancestry test the Sorcerer’s Council gave you… It was inconclusive. I bet they were lying! The older council got a lot of flak for killing off all the immortals, but they had their reasons. If the world found out there were still immortals walking around—an Ibeji, no less—they’d either have to double down with the old council’s decisions and kill you, even though you’ve never done anything, or take a step back from their old decision and admit the council before them was wrong.”
“Makes sense,” Monica said. “The council probably knows you’re an Ibeji. An adult Ibeji…”
“What sort of abilities do Ibeji have that it would intimidate the Sorcerer’s Council so much?” Holly asked, looking down at her hands.
“That’s the thing: no one really knows,” Monica said. “I mean, they’ve been gone for so long. They’re the stuff of myths and legends.”
“Great, so I’m a mythical creature to mystics? I’m the thing mystics use to scare their kids, aren’t I? I’m the monster’s version of the boogeyman!”
“Don’t be so rude. The boogeyman is a lovely fellow,” Abigail said.
The door opened, and Norah arrived back with Anniston. Anniston smiled at them, the little doll in her hand. “Holly, did you need something?” Anniston asked, casually as ever—like they weren’t having a funeral for her secondary body.
“How are you holding up?” Holly asked.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Anniston said. “A little weirded out, though. It’s weird having a funeral for yourself, you know?”
“No, I can’t say that I relate,” Holly said.
“I hope we can find your twin one day,” Anniston said. “I’m bummed out we didn’t quite make it to where my soul formed two separate entities. I’ll never see what it was like to have my abilities come into full form.”
“Do you have abilities now?” Holly asked.
“Mom says they’ll start kicking in soon now that one of my bodies are gone,” Anniston explained. “It’s so good to have someone else to talk to about this, you know? I have had to keep this a secret from Dad my whole life.”
“I can’t imagine,” Monica said sadly. “I hate that the council wouldn’t let you tell Joseph. Do you think they would deny you a license even now?”
“Probably,” Norah said. “Especially now with all these new Remembrance attacks I’ve been hearing about. If the group is getting brave, the council is going to crack down hard.”
“Anniston, now that you’re feeling better,” Monica said, looking directly at the girl. “Can you tell us exactly what happened?”
“Yes,” she said. “Let’s see… I, and by that, I mean this body, heard Holly say she was thirsty. I went to get her a drink, but the power went out. I put the drink down. But I picked it back up again and brought it in the living room. Then I got thirsty—not me, I mean, Angel, the other me. Angel was thirsty, which means I was thirsty.”
“Stop confusing me,” Abigail muttered. “Who was thirsty? Which you?”
“Angel. Angel was thirsty,” Anniston said. “So, I handed her the drink, and the body died. I felt the other half of my soul leave, and it was like watching yourself from overhead. It was very strange. I couldn’t reattach to this body, my Anniston half, and the other body was dead.”
“Fate made Angel thirsty so that Anniston would give her the poisoned drink,” Norah said. “I told you, Ibeji are destined to kill one another. I should have separated you girls.”
“It’s okay,” Anniston said nonchalantly. “It was just a body. I’m still here. And here,” she said, holding up her doll.
“But you didn’t put the poison in the cup?” Abigail asked.
“No, I didn’t,” Anniston said. “Someone else must have when I put the cup down—before I gave it to my Angel half.”
“Can you remember if anyone was near the drink when the power went out?” Monica asked. “Anyone who might have known you were getting a drink for Holly?”
Anniston thought, and then she nodded. “Yes, actually. I was in the kitchen with Marsha when the power went out. She asked me what I was doing. She had been very grumpy all evening at the party. I didn’t think much on it. I told her that I was making a drink for Holly, and the power went out, and I put the cup down. I don’t think anyone else was in the
room at the time.”
“Marsha?” Monica asked. “As in your cousin, Marsha?”
Norah nodded along. “Of course, it was Marsha… Joseph and I practically raised her. She lost her parents young, you see. I think Joseph… I think Joseph reached out and stepped in the way he did as a means of righting what he did by giving you away, Holly. You’re near her age, you see. He was trying to do right by her.”
“But why kill Holly?” Abigail asked.
“I was under the impression that Marsha was rather jealous,” Anniston said. “She kept wondering why you were worth a big party.”
“Marsha is jealous of Joseph. She must realize she was a surrogate for you,” Norah said. “She is worried about losing Joseph’s affection.”
“That or his money… Isn’t Marsha in his will?” Anniston asked.
“How did you know that?” Norah asked angrily.
“Marsha found it years ago,” Anniston said. “She showed it to me, I mean, to Angel. To my Angel half.”
“Marsha knew we were leaving her an inheritance,” Norah said. “She must have been worried about what was going to happen now that Holly was here.”
“And because of her, I won’t ever have my full powers,” Anniston grumbled.
“As far as Marsha believes, she just killed her little cousin,” Norah said.
Monica huffed. “Well, let’s go find out.” She reached into her sleeve, pulling out a small vial.
“What’s that?” Norah asked.
“A truth potion. I only have a small drop on me, so I can only use it once,” Monica explained. “I didn’t want to use it until we were pretty sure.”
“Ah, mark of an unnatural witch,” Norah said. “Carrying a potion around on you…”
Monica huffed at her. “Yes, I know how you Remembrance people feel about unnatural witches.”
“I am not Remembrance,” Norah said bitterly. “I am terrible with potions. I am only saying I am impressed.”
“Her potions are amazing,” Holly said.
“I am sure they are,” Norah said. “Time to slip Marsha a drink this time. Give it to me. I’ll bring her some water.”
Monica looked at Anniston. “You are an impressive young lady to have convinced everyone you and Angel are two separate persons.”
“I just would let Angel be my snarky voice,” Anniston said. “The outspoken part of me. If I wanted to tell someone off, I’d use my Angel body. I don’t think I can just be Anniston anymore though, now can I? I’m a very snarky person…but no one knows that Anniston is that way.”
“We’ll figure it out, dear, don’t you worry,” Norah promised her. She took the vial from Monica, and they headed out of the room together. Monica went ahead and called Officer George, telling him she believed they were about to get a confession. They waited for him to arrive, and Norah slyly poured the potion into a water bottle and brought it to Marsha, who was still crying on the small loveseat in the corner of the viewing room.
“You think she’s going to confess?” Officer George asked as he and Monica and Holly slipped into the room together.
“Just watch,” Monica said, and George stared at Monica hesitantly.
“All you have is circumstantial evidence,” he said. “And with the hysterical way Anniston was acting, I don’t know if we can rely on her as a witness…”
“I did it!” Marsha wailed, interrupting George. “I poisoned Angel! It was an accident. I meant to kill Holly! I didn’t want Joseph to ever find his long-lost daughter! I hoped he never would! In the third grade, I was the one who clogged up the toilet in the boys’ room with a bunch of paper towels so that Markus Flint would get detention!”
“What in the world?” George muttered.
Joseph came running through the room, his eyes wide. “Marsha!” he exclaimed in shock.
Marsha covered her mouth. She stood upright. “Joseph, I didn’t…” A switch seemed to go off in her head. “I killed Angel, and I feel terrible. But honestly, it’s not like you don’t still have her little clone. Those two have always been so weird to me. They’re practically attached at the hip!” Marsha covered her mouth again. “I love you so much,” she said to Joseph. “But I love your money way more!” She shrieked. “What’s wrong with me? I killed Angel! But I wanted Holly dead, and I still want her dead because I know you will never love me the way you love her, and it’s not fair that she gets two sets of parents and I don’t even get one!”
George rushed over, throwing handcuffs on her. “Come on, you’re coming with me. You’re upsetting everyone, you nut job…”
“You’re really strong, and I find that ridiculously attractive right now, and I know that’s inappropriate, but for some reason, I’m saying it anyway… I never liked you, Norah!” Marsha called as George marched her from the room.
Joseph stood in the center of the room surrounded by his friends and family, looking painfully confused. “I don’t know… Why… How….”
Holly and Anniston hurried over, grabbing onto the poor, confused man and hugging him. “Don’t worry, Dad,” Anniston said. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Marsha killed my daughter…” Joseph said, looking like he was going to break down all over again.
“This isn’t right,” Monica whispered to Abigail. “He thinks he’s lost a child.”
“You know…” Abigail said. “Your reveal license, I know you’re saving it for Brian, but it grants you the right to reveal this mystic world to five people.”
“Yeah, but it’s limited to residents of Bankstown,” Monica said.
Abigail snickered. “You seriously underestimate my deviousness. I think I can help with that.”
14
Monica stood with Holly and Abigail outside the log cabin that, to the residents of Bankstown, probably seemed to have gone up overnight. Mostly because it had. Monica had enlisted the help of Norah and Weston, both rather skilled wizards, to build the cabin quickly on the outskirts of her property.
“I personally love it,” Weston said triumphantly, still playing the part of someone who had absolutely no idea what was really going on.
“I don’t know, Weston,” Tora said. “A summer home? Don’t you think that’s a little silly?”
“I mean, I’m down if you guys are,” Joseph said. “You really want us to go in on this place together, Weston?”
Roczen, who had found himself a comfortable place on the porch, was beaming. “I’m ready to sign the papers, personally. This place is a steal. Why are you selling it so cheap, Monica?”
“Just don’t want to keep up two separate properties,” Monica said, grinning down at Abigail. Norah winked at her from across the way.
“Did you see the lake, Joseph?” Norah said as though this was her deepest desire was to own a cabin a short walk from a lake. “And it’s right here in Bankstown where Holly lives. We’ll have a place to stay when we come visit her. And I think Holly could stay here when she wants. I don’t see why not. She doesn’t like that apartment of hers.”
“Hold up, are we buying a summer home or a place for Holly to live?” Roczen asked.
“Oh, shut up, Uncle Roczen,” Anniston said. “This place is huge. There’s enough room for all of us for when we come visit, and you’ve said a thousand times how you’ve always wanted a cabin.”
“Tell me again why me, Joseph, and Roczen need to be the ones to sign the buyers’ contract?” Tora asked, looking like she suspected something was up.
“Your credit,” Weston said quickly.
“My credit sucks, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roczen said.
“But this will help it,” Weston said. “And your crappy credit isn’t bad, and Joseph and Tora’s make up for it.”
“I have the paperwork right here,” Monica said, waving it around. “All you got to do is sign, and it’s yours. And Holly is happy to handle the upkeep of the place.”
Joseph smiled. “Tora, if you and Roczen are down, I’m down. I would love to h
ave a place like this. Holly and I have a lot of memory-making to do.”
Monica glanced in Norah’s direction, who gave her a thumbs-up. “Come on, Tora,” Weston pleaded. “I think this is a great investment opportunity.”
“I’m down if Tora’s down,” Roczen said.
“So it looks like you’re all down?” Norah asked hopefully.
“This is ridiculous, Weston. I don’t like being pressured,” Tora said.
“Come on, Aunt Tora,” Anniston pleaded. “It’s great, and it’s not going to cost much with the three of you splitting the cost of the place. And Holly is going to handle all the upkeep since she’s going to be staying here.”
“Why doesn’t Holly put her name on the deed, then?” Tora asked.
“I can if that would make you feel better,” Holly said.
Tora thought for a moment, then sighed. “Fine. Someone grab me a pen…”
“Yes!” Weston said, positively beaming.
Monica held out the paperwork—official paperwork from the city. She was selling a few acres for next to nothing as a means of convincing these people to put their signatures on this slip of paper. Tora signed her name first, then Joseph, then Holly, and finally Roczen. “It’s done,” Monica said, smiling at Norah and Weston, who both looked near ready to cry. “You guys are officially residents of Bankstown.”
“That took a lot of convincing,” Holly said, sighing with relief. “Okay, time for the tell-all.”
Monica pulled out her license, double-checking to make sure this was going to be covered and she wasn’t going to get in trouble. “So, who wants to know why we really got you guys to buy a random cabin in the woods?”
Joseph, Tora, and Roczen all shot Monica a befuddled look. Norah was wiping tears from her eyes. Monica whistled, and her broom came flying from the cottage through the trees, and she threw her leg over it and took off. “Holy cow!” Roczen nearly fell over.
Norah let out a slight cackle, whipped out her wand, and with a quick wave started causing all the empty pots in front of the house to sprout flowers. Weston removed his wand as well, and he shot sparks out of his wand like fireworks. “What… What!” Joseph exclaimed, jumping back in surprise.