Embers

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  When I hesitated, she came back and took the leash from my hands. She unsnapped Angus. He immediately bounded off in the direction of the cabin, completely ignoring the rabbits.

  It seemed that Aunt Ila knew my dog better than I did. I was both annoyed and impressed at the same time. Maybe she wasn’t crazy at all, just very intuitive.

  I took a deep breath. The thick grass, tiny blossoms and pine trees at the edge of the field mingled to create the perfect fragrance. It was intoxicating. I decided in that instant that it didn’t matter whether Aunt Ila was a crazy woman with an odd sense of humor. She’d been kind enough to allow me to stay with her, saving my dog, even though she didn’t know it. And I was away from Marshall. Aunt Ila had not only rescued Angus, but me, also.

  Quickly, I shut out the sickening memories that tried to push their way in. The horrible man was far away now. He couldn’t hurt me or my dog.

  And the priest was far away, too. The sensible part of me thought he was mad, but the girl who’d stood in the raging inferno and watched her parents be incinerated, somehow knew better.

  Maybe the world was coming to an end.

  I opened my mouth to question Aunt Ila, but her eyes were closed and her chin was lifted to the sunshine.

  After glancing at her serene face, I decided that nothing I might say would make any sense to her. The hopefulness I had felt earlier that there was something special about Aunt Ila evaporated. She was just an ordinary person, maybe a little off her rocker mentally, but clearly not a supernatural being who could answer all my questions. If I told her about my encounter with Father Palano, she’d think I was the crazy one. She might even want me to leave.

  I had a chance for a new beginning. Why blow it by speaking about things that were impossible?

  It was pleasantly warm in the valley. The slight breeze blew strands of hair across my face. I pulled the loose hairs back, allowing the teasing air to dry the sweat from my neck. We stood silently for a while, neither of us needing to make conversation, the same as it was with Piper. When I was around anyone else I felt the need to chatter away about something not important, but not with my best friend, or this woman it seemed.

  “All right, my girl, let’s fix supper,” the wonderful silence was broken by Aunt Ila’s commanding tone.

  With mixed emotions, I followed her along the hard-packed dirt path to the cabin, only this time, she walked more leisurely. We meandered between blooms with large, vibrant petals and dainty little ones. In places the flowers spilled right into the pathway and brushed against my legs. Angus was right behind me, and I reached out until his tongue found my fingertips.

  A twinge of apprehension fluttered at the back of my mind, keeping me alert. Just before I stepped onto the wooden steps of the front porch, I was compelled to turn around. I scanned the shadows of the tree line, looking for nothing in particular.

  I remembered the wooden enclosure and a chill passed over me that made me catch my breath.

  What was hidden beyond its walls?

  Psalms 91:11

  For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.

  Ember ~ Seven

  A stirring of air through the opened window of the cabin carried with it the perfumed scents from the blossoms outside. Colorful quilts were draped on the furniture and bright red curtains adorned the windows. Even though the exposed logs were rustic, I was impressed with the modern refrigerator and the thickly cushioned couch and chairs that were in front of the fireplace. The woodsy smell from the charred remnants of a fire hung lightly in the air and the late afternoon sun spilled warmly into the room from the western facing windows.

  There was a door at the back of the kitchen that was open to what appeared to be a large storeroom. Craning my neck, I got a peek at dried plants hanging from the ceiling and jars crammed on shelves. Near the fireplace was another door and I figured it led to the bedroom and bathroom. Aunt Ila had warned me on the phone that we’d be sharing the one bedroom in the small cabin. I didn’t mind much. It went with the whole roughing-it-in-the-wilderness thing.

  At the far end of the room a bookshelf was overflowing. I couldn’t stop myself from walking over and inspecting the titles. Most of them looked antique, but a few were newer. The genres represented were staggering. Poetry, history, philosophy, botanical, and wildlife books were thrown together with no apparent organization.

  An extremely large, leather bound Bible caught my eye, and without much thought, I reached for it.

  “I have quite a collection, don’t I?”

  I jumped a little and dropped my hand.

  “Yes, you do. I love books,” I said, facing Aunt Ila again.

  Her arms were full of the bundles of dried plants that had been scattered across the kitchen table when we’d walked into the cabin. I reluctantly left the books to follow her into the storeroom. I was sure that I would have plenty of time to peruse them later.

  Walking slowly through the storeroom, I stopped and leaned in closer to stare at the content of a particular glass jar. It contained a dead mouse floating in purple liquid.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Aunt Ila climbing onto a stool, and I left the jar to hurry towards her.

  “Let me help you with that.”

  A Border Collie in the corner of the room looked up from the blanket he was resting on. The gray hairs around the dog’s face made it look ancient. “You didn’t say you had a dog.”

  “That’s Riley. He’s been with me for a very long time.”

  I held the stool while she agilely stepped up and hung the sprigs on the rafter with the others. When she came down, she quickly returned to the kitchen. Riley rose and walked by me stiffly. He wasn’t nearly as limber as his owner. The dog resettled himself on the rug in front of the kitchen sink, close to Aunt Ila’s feet, while she filled a teapot with water.

  “Riley, my boy, why don’t you say hello to Ember,” Aunt Ila coaxed.

  The dog looked up at me and barked twice.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” I said smiling. I knelt on the floor beside the dog and began rubbing his belly.

  Angus didn’t like to share me, and he picked just then to come trotting through the open door. He gave Riley a bothered look before flopping down against me. With a groaning whine he pushed his head into my lap. Before long, both dogs were lying next to each other having their bellies scratched.

  “Riley and Angus met earlier while we were in the field. They were instant friends,” Aunt Ila informed me.

  Any lingering doubts that I had about Aunt Ila’s sanity came rushing back.

  With the water perking on the stove, Aunt Ila busied herself by putting a casserole dish into the oven. I was content to sit with the dogs and watch her prepare supper. It reminded me of Mom. It would have been a similar scene at the O’Meara house just a few months ago when she’d still been alive. I used to enjoy hanging out in the kitchen while she cooked. We’d talk about things that weren’t important and she’d always make me laugh at her silly jokes.

  The knot that formed in my throat was difficult to swallow, but I finally managed to get it down. I lifted Angus’ head so that I could look into his dark brown eyes. He knew I was sad and rolled his head in my hands, whining again. The sound was full of sorrow. He missed Mom and Dad, too.

  When I glanced back up, Aunt Ila was sitting at the table. She was observing me with an intensity that made me squirm.

  “Come have a chat with me, my dear. I have some things I need to discuss with you.” Her voice had a faraway quality to it. I shivered, not knowing why.

  I took the chair across from her and worry began to prick me. Lately, it seemed whenever anyone said, “Ember, I want to talk to you…” it meant I was about to be ambushed with surprising news.

  The tea pot’s whistling sliced the stillness in room. Aunt Ila rose from the table and began pouring the water into two cups.

  “Thank you, but I don’t drink tea,” I said to save her the t
rouble.

  “You’ll have to get used to it. There are way too many benefits derived from the simple pleasure. Such as soothing a worried mind, invigorating a tired body, or healing an illness.”

  She handed it to me and then sat in the chair again. I brought the cup to my nose and sniffed. It smelled minty. I blew the hot liquid, watching the ripples spread out. Carefully, I took a small sip. It was delicious. I could get used to drinking tea if it always tasted like this, and I was already feeling less stressed. The stuff worked fast.

  “Is this from your garden?” I asked.

  “Yes, I grow all my own ingredients. I even make medicines from plants.”

  “You never buy anything from the store?”

  “Most everything I need is available right outside my door, either growing in my garden or in the woods.” She watched me closely.

  “Do you make your own clothes?”

  “Sometimes, but sewing isn’t my favorite thing to do. I’d much rather be working with the plants or taking care of the animals. Once in a while I do make it into town to purchase a new pair of rubber boots or a winter coat.”

  As she talked, I noticed that her green eyes never seemed to blink.

  She went on, “I get my milk from the goats and eggs from the chickens. I even make soap from the goats’ milk.”

  “I’d like to learn how to do all that. Can you teach me?”

  “I’ll teach you many things, Ember.”

  It was as if Aunt Ila’s words had more meaning, but she was stalling for some reason. I sipped my tea and waited.

  “When your brother called me, he mentioned the accident. I know that it must be difficult for you to go back to that time and place, but I need you to think on it now,” she urged gently.

  No way. I wasn’t going there.

  “I don’t remember much about it.”

  Avoiding her probing eyes, I stared into my cup.

  “Timothy told me that there was an explosion and a fire. Do you remember the

  fire?”

  Her eyes narrowed at my silence, and I challenged her with a shrug and my continued frozen stare.

  “If you’re wondering, the reason you weren’t burned alive is because you’re a very unique person. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe there has been a person like you born into the world for a hundred years.”

  Oh, my God, here it comes. She’s going to tell me she was visited by the same angel as Father Palano.

  Almost holding my breath, I whispered, “What are you saying?”

  Instead of explaining herself, she stood up and took a fat candle off the shelf. She lit it and brought it back to the table.

  My eyes were drawn to the flame. It danced red and yellow.

  “It’s beautiful. Don’t you think so?” Aunt Ila asked. Her voice was soft and reassuring. I felt strange, almost as if I was in a dream. My eyes weren’t working right. The edges of everything were fuzzy. Maybe I’m really tired? Or, maybe the nice old lady drugged the tea? A quiet panic rolled through me, but I didn’t react. The feeling stayed buried, hidden beneath the layers of controlled calmness.

  “My dear, the fire can’t hurt you. You are part of the flame and you know it. Deep down, you know it.” Aunt Ila sounded distant, yet she sat right there in front of me. “Put your hand on the flame and you’ll know the truth. You’ll understand.”

  She wanted to burn my hand? Why would she do that? The outside had turned dusky and I realized how late it was.

  Something was wrong.

  I wasn’t going to listen to her. She was trying to hurt me and I wouldn’t let her. My skin became very warm, in fact, I was hot. Sweat beaded on my chest and back as if I’d run a race in the middle of a hot, July afternoon.

  I didn’t remember moving my hand, but somehow there it was, near the flame. It was close enough to the fire that I could feel the licking heat of it. I wasn’t going to do this crazy thing. When I looked into Aunt Ila’s eyes, determination flooded back to me. Surprise lit her face.

  I started to pull back. Aunt Ila’s hand caught mine and she held it over the flame. I couldn’t believe how strong she was. I tried to break free, but she had me in a firm grip. The heat continued to grow and sweat made my skin sticky. My breaths were fast and shallow.

  Aunt Ila’s strength was unreal for her age, but I was still stronger. I began to pull both of our hands away from the flame. I was close to winning when she said, “You must do this, Ember. You need to know the truth.” I could see the tight strain on her face when she gathered her muscles and pushed down hard on my hand.

  When my skin touched the flame, sparks sprang up and multiplied into a burst of fire reaching the ceiling.

  There was no pain.

  It was the same as in the accident. The fire felt warm, almost tickling me. The flames continued to grow, and I wanted them to. I wasn’t afraid at all, just fascinated with the feel of the heat and the wonderful brightness of the world around me.

  How long this went on, I’m not sure. It could have been seconds, but it seemed longer, more like minutes, until Aunt Ila’s shout finally broke through the bliss.

  “Stop it. That’s enough!” The urgency in her voice brought me to my senses. I jumped back from the candle as if it had bitten me. The room was dark, except for the flicker of the now ordinary flame. I heard Aunt Ila shuffle across the floor, a second later the lights were on. I blinked at the sudden light. Looking down at my hands, I actually hoped to see them burned. That would have been normal.

  I really, really wanted normal right then. But, no, of course, they were fine.

  I turned them over, inspecting them carefully. Besides the smudge of black residue clinging to them, they were perfect. They almost felt better than they had before they’d been scorched.

  Quickly, to preserve what remained of my sanity, I accepted the fact that the tasty spearmint tea I’d so happily lapped up must have contained a hallucinogenic drug that made me imagine the entire incident. That had to be the answer.

  I glared at Aunt Ila, but only for a second.

  Horror swallowed me up. She held her bloody hands out. There were strings of skin dangling from her fingers and palms. I could smell it now, the burnt flesh. My stomach churned.

  I recovered in a flash and jumped to the sink. I grabbed a towel, immediately running cold water over it. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but wrapping the woman’s hands in a cool, wet towel seemed to be a good start.

  “I’m so sorry. Why on earth did you do that? What were you thinking?”

  Dumb question, she obviously wasn’t thinking, because she’s insane. I moved to her quickly with the wet towel, but I had to slow down, suddenly feeling dizzy. My legs wobbled and I dropped to the floor on my knees. I wasn’t the fainting type, but if anything was going to cause someone to faint, this whole scene probably would. Angus was at my side licking my face with his rough tongue. Riley joined in, too.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time. You’re going to feel sickly for a minute or two. I’m sorry that escalated the way it did. I never dreamed you’d be able to draw that much of the power so soon.”

  “That’s enough, guys.” I pushed the dogs away and pulled myself onto the chair. The bubbles of queasiness still remained, but the room wasn’t spinning anymore. Using her foot, Aunt Ila pulled a chair next to mine. She sat down facing me. She was close enough that I could smell the mangled flesh again. I held my breath.

  “Look at my hands. Do you see how they’re burned? Now look at yours,” Aunt

  Ila ordered.

  I automatically held out my hands and compared them to hers.

  “How can this be? My hands were closer to the flame than yours, yet mine are all right, and yours are ruined.” I was confused and weak, yet I was still trying to think rationally. “I need to get you to a hospital.”

  “My dear child, I know this is going to be difficult for you to accept. You have been conditioned your entire life to not believe the thi
ngs I’m about to tell you, but the truth is in front of you. You can’t deny it now.” Aunt Ila paused and wrinkled her nose as if she was in pain, and then she continued to talk.

  “The fire can’t harm you, because it’s inside of you. It’s part of your essence, your very soul. Of course you know that humans are made up of water, bones, tissue and organs. And you have all those things in your body too, but the fire is in there as well; it’s just hiding. But it is in there all the same.” She poked her bloody finger into my stomach. “That’s why you weren’t injured during that horrible accident. All the others had to try to explain it away somehow, but you knew the truth in your heart all along. You just couldn’t face it or didn’t know how to. You were in the fire and the only thing it did was make you stronger. You are what you are and you can’t deny it.”

  Her voice was soft, yet it boomed in my head.

  In a shaky voice, I asked her, “What am I?”

  “A Watcher, my dear, you are a Watcher.”

  Jude 1:6

  And the angels who did not keep their proper domain, but left their own habitation, He has reserved in everlasting chains under darkness for the judgment of the great day.

  Ember ~ Eight

  A Watcher?

  I strained to think of what a Watcher was, but came up empty.

  Meeting Aunt Ila’s steady gaze, I said, “I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She took a deep breath and settled back into the chair. It looked like the explanation was going to take a while.

  “Watchers are all types of beings. Some are evil, deformed creatures surviving on dark deeds and lusty appetites. They’ve evolved from a millennia of living in the shadows, defiling the basic laws of rightness that we were directed to follow. Others are neutral. They blend in easily with the populace, finding nourishment without necessarily breaking the oath.

  “I’m happy to say that you are the highest form of Watcher, the kind who draws sustenance directly from the universe.”