Embers

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  Luke 15:10

  “Likewise, I say to you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over

  one sinner who repents.”

  Ember ~ Eleven

  When I opened my eyes, sun streamed into the room from the window above my head. Birds were chirping and the little room was already warm. I wondered what time it was, but I was too sleepy to move a muscle to glance at the clock.

  After a few minutes, the presence of the cheerful morning began erasing the dark dreams that had tormented me throughout the night. Images of the towering wooden fence, monstrous trees, glowing blood red eyes and bloodcurdling screams began fading from my conscious. But they weren’t entirely gone. Even now, in the stuffy little room, a chill swept through me as I recalled them.

  I knew that the cries of people begging for their lives and the growling, ripping and tearing noises of animals were created from my over-active imagination. But even as I pushed the terrifying thoughts away, I couldn’t shake the feeling of real danger weighing me down.

  My salvation from the nightmares had been the dark haired young man. At first he had shyly watched me from a distance. As my dream progressed and I ran through the woods, trying to get back to Aunt Ila’s cabin, with only the moonlight as my guide, the stranger would peek out from behind trees or clusters of rocks more and more often. There was an unearthly golden glow that spread out for several feet around him. And when he came close enough, I could actually feel the warmth of the light.

  Even though horrible things pursued me, a blanket of protection seemed to have been placed over my shoulders when the young man had appeared. The awful noises became distant and the angry red eyes no longer had faces.

  At some point during the night, my mind had called him guardian. The thought had stuck in my head, and now when I remembered his face, that’s what I accepted him as—my guardian angel.

  It wasn’t unusual for me to be pestered by unwanted dreams. Growing up, many of my nights had been filled with fire and other strangeness that felt so real that I would have bet my eyeballs that they were actually happening. The images would always drift from memory once I had left my bed the following morning. And by the end of the day, only vague impressions remained of the dreams.

  I’d never been normal. And now I knew why.

  I replayed the scene with Aunt Ila from the night before several times in my head and then groaned and pulled the pillow over my face. I was a descendant of angels. Somehow, it all seemed more acceptable in the nighttime. Now that the sun was up and the sparrows were singing their morning songs, it became insane again.

  But it had to be true. The flame had exploded, nearly reaching the ceiling when it touched my fingers. And I’d seen how Aunt Ila’s hands were destroyed one minute, only to be perfectly healed the next.

  I pushed the pillow aside and studied my hands again, turning them over and rubbing them together. They were completely unscathed.

  Still, maybe I had dreamed it all. Or, could I already be dead? Perhaps I did die in the highway fire and this was some kind of weird purgatory.

  The scents of eggs and onions frying in the other room told me that I wasn’t dead though. Surely, people didn’t make yummy breakfasts in a world of the dead. The sweat trickling between my breasts certainly didn’t feel dreamlike and the cramp in my leg where I’d been squeezed tightly against the wall by Angus was not my imagination. I was definitely awake, and alive.

  Sitting up and stretching, I had one last impression of the face from my dream before it vaporized. Piper might be on to something. Maybe I needed to find myself a real boyfriend. Crawling out of the bed, I grinned and shook my head at the thought.

  When I reached the bathroom, I took some time examining myself in the mirror, turning my face in different angles. Thankfully, my skin wasn’t sparkling. The same old Ember with blue eyes, tangled chestnut hair and lightly tanned skin stared back at me. Hastily, I attempted to brush my hair, giving up after a few strokes and the sharp pains to my scalp. I resorted to tying the mess into the usual pony tail.

  My stomach growling got me moving. Quickly, I made the bed and followed my nose to the source of the cooking smells. Angus and Riley greeted me when I entered the kitchen. As expected, Aunt Ila was at the stove, stirring eggs in a large skillet. There were steamy biscuits in a basket on the table. A pitcher of grape colored juice was sitting next to a vase that was overflowing with cheerful yellow flowers in the center of the table.

  “That smells wonderful, Aunt Ila,” I said, sitting down on the nearest chair. I plucked a biscuit from the basket and took a bite.

  “I don’t think you really need to call me Aunt Ila any longer. I’m not your aunt. You can call me Ila from now on.” She handed me a dish of scrambled eggs.

  “Okay. Ila it is then.”

  After a couple of minutes of shoveling eggs into my mouth, the hunger pains lessened and I looked up to see that Ila was nearly finished with her own breakfast.

  Since she was trapped at the table with me, I began my bombardment. “Does Timmy know anything about this Watcher stuff?”

  “No, he knows nothing—the same as your father.” Ila said, spreading some jelly on her biscuit before she continued.

  “You see, the old rules say that we must keep our heritage a secret at all costs. Even husbands, brothers and sons should never know what we are. There’s a distraction aura around all of us that keeps others from delving too deep when their suspicions are aroused. But, there are occasionally exceptions, sometimes.”

  “What kind of exceptions?”

  “For one thing, sometimes even ordinary folk can be attuned to us and figure it out on their own. And of course other Watchers usually know,” she added.

  Swallowing a sip of milk, I gathered the courage and asked, “What are the other Watchers like?”

  “Folklore and legends have described all manner of Watchers. Many of them are straight from the scary bedtime stories that you’re probably familiar with. They are the magical beings that you already know.”

  Ila raised a brow at my confusion and added, “They are real, Ember. Your nightmares walk the earth, and they have the same blood coursing through their veins that we do.”

  “Angels?”

  “Yes, fallen ones, my dear. You must never forget that we all came from the same place, but while some chose the path of light, most chose the path of darkness.”

  You are good—there is light inside of you. You have a choice.

  The priest was once again speaking in my mind and I tensed at the implication.

  Ila must have sensed my mood change. She straightened up and said, “Do you want to learn what you really are?”

  I met her challenging gaze with sureness. “Of course, I do.”

  Her smile didn’t quit touch her eyes and once again, I was worried.

  What was I getting myself into?

  Matthew 13:41

  “The Son of Man will send out His angels, and they will gather out of His kingdom all things that offend, and those who practice lawlessness.

  Ember ~ Twelve

  Lemonade had never tasted so good. Sitting in the hot, motionless air of the front porch, I listened to the sounds of Angus’ mocking growls and the purring of the cat on my lap. Surprisingly, I felt pretty good.

  “How old is Riley?” I asked, watching him ignore Angus’ attempts to play.

  “He is fifty-nine years,” she answered simply. Since she didn’t giggle, smirk or laugh, I knew she was serious.

  “Is he some kind of Watcher dog?”

  “No,” she chuckled. “I’ve used my powers to heal him and keep him young all these years. But now that I’m getting old myself, I don’t have enough power anymore. The two of us are growing old together.”

  “Can I do that with Angus and Cricket?”

  “Yes. I’m sure you will be able to in time.” Ila took a sip of her lemonade. “I need to explain so many things to you, but let’s begin with the basics. Our kind of Watcher draws ener
gy from the elements. Do you know what the elements are?”

  “Ah, are you talking about water, fire, earth and air—those elements?”

  “Yes, that’s very good. Most of us can draw energy from only one element and in varying degrees of ability, but some gifted Watchers can draw from two or three elements. A very rare and powerful Watcher can use all the elements. There has not been a Watcher who can do that for almost a thousand years.”

  “What element are you?”

  “I’m very blessed with two elements, earth and air. The earth element involves healing and growing things, such as my vegetables or flowers. Earth is also related to communicating with the animals, and fertility. There are other powers associated with earth, too. When I was at my strongest I could actually control the movement of the ground.”

  “You mean you could make an earthquake?”

  “Something similar to that, but it’s very dangerous to do. I would have to pull so much power from the element that I could be destroyed in the process. Do you remember how you felt after you drew the fire last night?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s the way it is with every element. You have to be very careful not to use too much at one time. You have to build up strength and experience to handle the element. Or…you’ll die.”

  “Maybe it’s better if I don’t try to use the energy?” I squirmed in the rocker.

  “My dear, you don’t have a choice. The energy is part of you. Now that you’re maturing, you’ll have to learn to control it. Otherwise, the elements will consume you anyway.” Ila set her glass down on the little table next to her. Unlike her walking habits, she seemed to prefer to rock slowly.

  I thought for a minute and then asked. “So my element is fire, right?”

  “Yes. You definitely have fire, but you also have earth in you. I can tell by the way the animals and plants respond to you. I even sense a bit of air, but I’m not sure. Most often when a Watcher has more than one element, she’ll be dominant in one for a while before the other begins to show.” She paused and stared at me with a lopsided frown. “I’m having a difficult time with you. I can sense that your abilities are strong, but they’re masked.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Oh, no, not at all, it’s beneficial for your own protection. And for you to not be trained at all, and to still be able to shield yourself, is impressive indeed.”

  “Will I be able to sense things about people the way you do?”

  Ila raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  “What I mean is that you always seem to be reading my mind.” I hesitated. “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “No, I don’t read minds.” She chuckled. “I’ve simply been observing your body language. Even ordinary people can do that.”

  I’m that easy to read? I’ll have to work on controlling my emotions better. Then again, Piper always seemed to know what I was thinking, and she wasn’t a Watcher.

  “I have a close friend—Piper. She’s the only real friend I’ve ever had. Even though she’s about as normal as a teenage girl can get, there’s something different about her too, like the way she usually knows what’s going on in my head.” I paused, thinking about exactly what I wanted to ask and how to put the words together to do it.

  “Can anyone be a Watcher?”

  Ila tilted her head and concentrated before she said, “Not exactly. There are dozens of ancestral lines of elemental Watchers throughout the world, and we are all connected to each other to some degree.” Seeing my confusion, she added, “You see, I can sense all the others, I can feel them inside of me. You will be able to do the same someday. I can tell you with surety that if your friend had an element in her blood, I’d know it. But there are humans that possess other abilities that can be quite impressive if they work with them. Perhaps your friend is one of those individuals.”

  My insides constricted. I suddenly felt the loss of Piper. I hadn’t anticipated how much I would miss her.

  Ila must have sensed the graying of my mood and decided that she was done talking for the moment. She rose from the rocking chair and said, “Let’s take a walk in the woods.”

  I didn’t bother to ask her why. She didn’t give me the opportunity, anyway. She was already at the bottom of the steps and heading for the side of the cabin when I rose from the rocker.

  Setting the cat gently back down on the rocker, I hurried to catch up with her.

  There was a narrow, well-worn dirt path leading into the shadows of the trees and I followed her under the shade. A hundred questions were on the tip of my tongue, but I was reluctant to breach the quiet, sleepy feeling of the forest. And, I didn’t want to disrupt whatever Ila was doing.

  And she was definitely doing something.

  I watched in fascination as the leafy branches reached out to Ila while she made her way along the trail. They brushed against her with a life of their own. Her touch rejuvenated each plant, leaving it greener and fuller in a matter of seconds.

  Soon, the smaller trees diminished, leaving only the giant ones. Here, most of the forest floor was covered with a thick moss, climbing up the rocks and boulders along the path. My tennis shoes squished comfortably into the green carpet. It felt nice.

  After several minutes of silence, Ila finally spoke. She sounded as if she was a talking encyclopedia as she pointed out different plants and informed me of their names and uses. I studied the leaves, trying to quickly impart to memory their distinguishing features and the information about each one.

  Angus and Riley were scouting ahead of us. Angus, in his youthful exuberance, would leave the path at intervals to do a wide sweep of the area. He’d show up behind me, touch my hand with his nose, as if to say, “Here I am,” and then lope up to the front with Riley again.

  I was so intent on watching Angus that when Ila abruptly stopped in front of me, I bumped into her back. She was a solid woman.

  “Close your eyes. Use your other sense to just…feel,” she ordered me in a whisper.

  I controlled the strong urge to ask her what she was talking about and instead did as I was told.

  At first, I didn’t sense anything special, just the breeze against my skin, the sound of a chipmunk scurrying nearby, and the rich smell of decaying leaves on the forest floor.

  Then something changed. My senses were on high alert, the sounds and scents pummeling me all at once. The caterpillar nibbling on the leaf to my left crunched loudly in my head. I could even smell the musky fur of a fox peeking out from its den several yards away.

  The bombardment was almost painful at first, but somehow, instinctively, I knew how to block out the unwanted noise and pinpoint an entirely different sense. I’m not sure if what I was suddenly feeling was even a sense. It was more like an extension of my mind doing something it always had the ability to do, yet didn’t have the faintest idea how, until now.

  I felt Ila’s presence ahead of me. Warm and solid, I had a distinct picture of her standing on the path. She was watching me, a slight smile twitching her lips. But my eyes were still closed. I was seeing her without my eyes.

  This was way cool.

  Reaching out further I searched for the dogs. Riley was at Ila’s feet. Angus was above us on the ridge, standing as if he was a sentry. Unexpectedly, a group of deer appeared. There were a lot of them, eight, nine, no eleven out among the trees. When I felt the heat of their life forces, their images sprang to mind, telling me where they were.

  I sensed many smaller animals close by, but I ignored them the best I could. I would have probably stood there in the trance-like state all day long enjoying the newly found sensation, but Ila’s voice pushed me out of the zone.

  “That’s very good. You’re a fast learner, my girl.”

  “Thanks. I have a good teacher,” I said opening my eyes.

  Ila was walking again. “We only have a little ways to go. Let’s not dally.”

  As I followed her, I looked around for the deer I’d felt seconds before. I couldn
’t see any of them. It was if I was blind again, even though I could see just fine.

  The woods opened up into a small circular clearing. At the center of the clearing was a rock fire pit with two straight-backed wooden chairs beside it. I wondered if Ila had anticipated our hike here and brought the extra chair for me. Or did she have other company on her strange nature walks? The thought was unnerving. I was about to ask her when she cut me off.

  “Come over here and start the fire please. There is already dry wood in the pit.”

  “Are you kidding? You have matches, right?”

  “Fire is not my element, as you saw last night. But it’s yours. It shouldn’t be a problem for you. Look at the pit and think about the fire. Picture the fire rising there and feel it with your entire body. Go ahead. Try it,” she urged.

  I took a deep breath and moved forward. I glanced at the logs, and back at Ila. She nodded her head in encouragement. With effort, I began thinking about the flames while I stared into the pit.

  Ila interrupted me. “Wait. I almost forgot to tell you. It is very important that you picture only a small flame. Keep your eyes open and don’t look away. A fire Watcher was a good friend of mine in my youth. What I’m telling you to do is what I observed of her when she used the power. She always said the fire was raw power and that it was pleasurable to use it. She was careful to hold herself back or the flames would overtake her. Go ahead and try now, but remember what I told you.” Ila took a step back and waited.

  Great, no pressure; I had felt corny about it before, now the image of setting the entire forest on fire burned into my vision. I glanced at Ila who waited expectantly. I hoped she had some kind of backup plan if I messed up.

  Concentrating hard, I designed a small flame in my mind. A minute later, nothing had happened and I snapped my head up at the sound of Ila’s snort.

  “Get on with it, my girl, we haven’t got all day.”

  I breathed out slowly, trying to keep my temper in check. “I tried. It didn’t work.” Ila frowned at me. “Nothing personal against your abilities, but maybe you misjudged me on this fire thing,” I suggested, trying not to sound too happy that I wasn’t able to create fire with a glance.