by N. K. Vir
“You’ve been tainted by magick from the Otherside!” a fading voice from the past shouted out in the darkness. The ancient memory and emotion overlapped with his emotion; controlling and heightening the state of mind he found himself in. It was something he could not explain. It was something no one would believe; for although it had been him that had called fire down from the sky he had not been in full control.
Then there was a brilliant flash of light and the smell of ozone, thick and heavy in the air burned his delicate nasal passages. When his eyes had opened it had already been too late.
…”You’ve regressed little witch,” Adam’s voice hauntingly mocked.
…”Kieran-, Wills’…she’s blind.”
“Kieran…Kieran! Dammit snap out of it!” Daisy screamed slapping him again.
His eyes snapped open.
His hand instinctually rescued his face from another stinging blow. His fingers wrapped gently yet firmly around her wrist. “Daisy you’ve got to stop sleeping with pyrite in your hands. You’re developing a lead fist,” he chastised. He released her wrist and rubbed his sore cheek. The little Latina had a powerful swing.
“It’s the only way I can keep myself from being overloaded from other people’s auras,” she whined. “Has brooding Kieran left the building?” she asked hopefully.
He shook his head as he tried to mentally retain the scattered fragments of his memory. “Maybe,” he reluctantly admitted jumping to his feet. “Are my parents still down stairs?”
“Yes,” she quickly answered frowning at him. “James and Kelly Sinclair leaving without making sure the kids are okay? You do remember who your parents are right?” Her question was sarcastic, and of course rhetorical.
The smell of bacon sizzling in the pan tickled his nostrils “Daisy, I am suddenly starving.”
Daisy gently slapped her hands on each of his cheeks. She squeezed his face between her hands and planted a quick sisterly kiss on his lips. “Kieran your mood changes are giving me whiplash. Don’t make me use my aquamarine on you again,” she warned.
He wrapped his hands around her wrists and slowly pried her palms away from his face. He quickly kissed the backs of each of her hands and smiled down at her. “You ever use that stone on me again and I will make sure that every hair on your body turns blonde,” he warned.
“You wouldn’t dare!” she screeched snatching her hands back.
“Try me,” he dared waggling his eyebrows teasingly at her.
Chapter Eight
An Unusual Birthstone
She had gone without sleep before; she had gone days without it. She fully expected to go without sleep for days as she counted down her last remaining days. Last night had been different; she barely remembered climbing the stairs and falling asleep. Daisy had knocked on the door earlier this morning waking her from the best night’s sleep she had ever had. She had awoken with a slight headache and stiff muscles. She felt sluggish and stiff instead of refreshed and alert. Then she remembered the tea James had served them last night. Daisy’s bright cheerful face peeking through the slightly ajar door told her she had not imbibed the loaded tea last night. Daisy brought more with her than the morning sun; the wonderful scent of breakfast meat cooking downstairs wafted through the door and reminded her that she had not eaten dinner last night.
She had quietly crept into the kitchen, mumbled a hasty good morning to James and Kelly, snagged a scone and piece of bacon, and then just as quickly escaped out onto the front porch. She was not in the mood for company just yet. The cool, early morning summer air lifted the fog from her sleep mind. She inhaled a lungful of the crisp air enjoying the slightly damp smell of the morning dew that still clung to the grass. The cool morning was merely a herald for the warm afternoon that was awaiting them. She cautiously sniffed the scone, satisfied it was safe to eat she devoured it in three large bites barely savoring the butter taste on her tongue. With her belly slightly satisfied her eyes drifted towards the trees that surrounded the property, ignoring the demolished driveway, she allowed nature to soothe her troubled mind.
The quarter-sized moonstone she had been clutching in her fist all night caught the early morning rays of the sun. A brilliant iridescent flash emanating from her moonstone drew her eyes away from the fixation they had with the tree line. Hypnotized by the beautiful light show she manipulated the milky stone in the morning rays and fell into the flashing blues and purples hidden just under the surface of the stone.
A wistful smile cured the corners of her mouth upwards as the colors deepened and the world of worry she had been carrying melted off her shoulders, dripped down her back and fell between the planks of wood on Marian’s porch. She closed her eyes and tipped back her head enjoying the relaxing sensation. Her broken linear memories tried to remind her that this was the way she had once felt, the way she should feel now. Before worry and the fear of death trailed behind her chasing her away from people who cared about her. She had once been surrounded by those who loved her and took care of her. She felt as if she had the same existence in another life before; and like now she had been chased away, alienated and outlawed from a place she had once called home.
Just like the past she still felt the need to run; to save herself, to save the people who loved her and spare them the sorrow and grief they would feel if she stayed. She was surrounded by people who would miss her if she were gone; but the trees, the easy call to run was a powerful call.
A siren’s call…
“Siren’s aren’t real,” she mumbled unsure as to why she was so certain. Of course Sirens weren’t real. Then again two-toned eyed shifters with a Swiss cheese for memories were not known to be common either.
She squeezed the moonstone in her fist. “You are one of a kind Tani-.”
The memory struck out of nowhere sucking the oxygen out of her chest and replacing it with something lighter and scented faintly with the sweet aroma of almonds and vanilla. She clenched her eyes shut and allowed the memory to enter her mind, welcoming it instead of fighting the foreign sensation.
She was younger, or at least shorter. The apex of her eyebrows barely reached the top of the table she was clinging to. She suddenly grew a few inches and she realized that she must have raised herself up on her tip toes until she was able to see what was hidden, waiting for her on top of the table. She had been waiting years to open it…Well at least since the morning meal, but they had made her wait until noon…the hour of her birth. She had been born during a special hour, a thin time. It was a silly tradition, to wait until the exact minute you had been born, and she was convinced it had been invented by parents who wanted to torture their children by making them wait to open their birth gift. The small package with her name on it was beautifully wrapped in shiny paper that projected every color of the rainbow. This year was a special one; it was her seventh, a very important year among her people. Whenever a child reached their seventh year a seer was visited and the family was advised on what gift would best protect and guide them as they grew. Today would be the day she would receive her first magickal gift. Her stomach had been flopping around her stomach all night preventing her from sleeping. She didn’t care about the party that was planned, she only dreamed of the very special gift she was about to receive. She imagined that what was inside the beautifully wrapped present was just as beautiful, just as perfect and spectacular as the outside.
“You are one of a kind Tani,” her sister had whispered in her ear. She lifted her up so that she could better see all of the yummy treats that had been laid out in anticipation of her special day; but her eyes never left the shimmery paper that hid her birth gift inside. “You are one of a kind…”
The voice faded taking the memory with it.
Slowly she pulled one finger at a time away from the semi-precious stone buried in her fist. The beautiful rainbow flashed mirrored the wrapping paper her young eyes had spied waiting for her to open. Her chest heaved with the heavy emotion the memory had inspired to blossom wit
hin her. She always knew she had a family out there somewhere, everyone came from somewhere. She just couldn’t imagine that happy, well-loved little girl running away from such a warm home.
What had happened between then and the horrible memory she had recalled yesterday when faced with Kane?
“You stayed the night,” Kelly said not sounding at all surprised. Her warm smile radiated down. “And you’re smiling.” This time she did not sound surprised. “I’ve been waiting to see that look on your face for years,” she confessed.
Her bright smile widened as she sat down beside her. Her long elegant fingers were wrapped around a plain, thick white mug that held a steaming brew. She was hesitant to take another drink from Kelly after last night but despite her reservations she found herself reaching for it when she detected the faint scent of hazelnut mixed with cinnamon; Kelly had remembered her favorite coffee combination.
Kelly relinquished the mug into her steady hand. “It’s just coffee,” she assured her, holding her hands up in an innocent sign of surrender. “Nothing but the power of caffeine, I promised Wills no more tricks after last night.”
She remembered the Sinclair’s arrival last night. It was a fuzzy memory, like trying to remember a fleeing dream when awaking. Her mind had been focused on other things last night, like how exceedingly short and unimportant her life had been. Compared to those surrounding her she was even more insignificant. They all held power and purpose. She would be doing them all a favor by letting Kane drag her away to her death.
At least that was the first idea that had flashed through her mind.
The outcome of that would give birth to a rage in Lucas that would burn until it consumed him and everyone around him. Her second thought, the one she had entertained right up until sunrise had been running; alone. Daisy had barely talked her off that ledge last night, but it hadn’t been her words that had stilled her restless feet it had been the rippling repercussions. They would never stop looking for her. They of course now extended beyond just Lucas and Kieran. They included Daisy, the Sinclair’s and even Wills.
The woman she had almost murdered weeks before had been the one to make the big bad wolf go away; even if it was for only five more days. Yes, they, now included Wills and she had done nothing for any of them, to deserve such staunch protection.
“I’ve done nothing to deserve this,” she whispered more to the slowly rising sun than to Kelly.
The sky burned a hazy shade of red, a sure sign of a dangerous storm brewing. She felt the air behind her shift. Kelly had come and done what she had been sent to do. She was turning back, leaving her on the outskirts, the outsider always to make her final decision as to whether or not she would stay or listen to her feet and run.
“Maybe not yet,” Kelly cryptically said replying to her mumbled comment.
Tanith swung her head around. She squinted, shielding her eyes against the strong glare bouncing off the window. “What?” she asked confused.
Kelly glanced out at the tree line that had been beckoning her with the call of the wild for nearly twenty four hours. “I said you may not have done anything to deserve it yet; but that doesn’t mean you won’t.”
She turned and opened the purple wooden door now free from the thin protection of a screen door, the only real casualty yesterday. She wanted to put Wills in that category. Having not seen her this morning she hoped that her eyes had healed after a good night’s sleep as well as a strong magickal push from the Sinclair healers.
“How is she?” she asked. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Wills I mean,” she quickly clarified. “Is she better this morning?”
Kelly shook her head, her long blonde curls bounced over her shoulders. Words were too loud for her to speak or maybe she was afraid that saying the words out loud would make them true, would make them real and everlasting. A witch’s words had power. She had seen magickal creatures bigger than her cower at the feet of a witch because of one spoken word. Words had power; somehow she had learned that long ago. If Kelly wouldn’t say the words then neither would she. She tried to smile at Kelly. She tried to make sure she realized that she understood, but her guilt ate away at her smile.
“Things have a way of working themselves out in the end Tanith. It’s a lesson I learned a long time ago.” The sad, faraway look in her dark green eyes proved that everyone was haunted by at least a piece of their past they wished they could forget.
There was a story behind her words and as much as Tanith wanted to hear the tale, if only to make her forget about her own tragic tale for a short while, Kelly wasn’t in the mood to share. The older woman she had begun to think of as a mother left her alone with nothing but a big decision to make and no one to talk her down.
Her hand clasped around the moonstone. She closed her eyes, shielding them from the view of the tall trees in the near distance, and made a very big wish that sounded very close to the phrasing of an elegant spell.
“Guide me,” she began. “Show me the path to home, however long, and let me dwell there surrounded in the peace and happiness I’ve been searching for.”
When she opened her eyes the scenery had not changed. Her butt was still firmly planted on the porch. The sun was still cresting the tips of the trees. The dew still clung to the freshly mown blades of grass; but no path had appeared for her to follow. With no clear direction she clung to what she had grown to know and love and made her way back into the house and the family she had pieced together; one person at a time.
Chapter Nine
The Story of Trees
She hadn’t moved in over an hour. Maybe it had been more, maybe it had been less; what it had been was painful to witness. Yesterday had been normal for her, perhaps boring and ordinary, but normal and boring were not in her future. His heart was breaking, shattered piece by shattered piece. Her eyes were open but nearly lifeless as they tried and failed to read the pages resting under the tips of her fingers. He watched as her hands skimmed over the page almost as if she were trying to raise the ink from the page and absorb the old markings.
He’d offered, more than once, to read it to her. Each time she had politely refused, never lifting her eyes or her fingertips from the page. Whatever she was waiting for was clearly not happening; she had patience he just did not possess. He had easily understood what she had been hoping would happen. As he had told her earlier it was thin, but until that final door slammed shut he was willing to believe in thin. She was hoping that in sacrificing the gift of sight that she would be rewarded with the gift of knowledge. It just hadn’t happened yet; and if it hadn’t happened now, he doubted it was going to suddenly manifest.
“I’ve read it, I just don’t understand it,” she replied each time he had dared to question her.
She was clinging, desperately, to a loose end that led nowhere. She was hiding; surrounded by books that she would probably never be able to read again. She was hiding from the future, as well as hiding from the present. His pity shifted and rage rose up, making the fine hairs that lived along his spine stand at attention. He twisted his head to the side, cracking his neck, giving the rage a quick and easy outlet. He was used to spending endless hours quietly alongside her in the library. Together they had gotten in the rhythm of hunting down magickal history that had been lost to time; hidden in seemingly endless corridors of the buried library. Today the minutes seemed to tick by louder as they screamed at him, begging him to understand that they did not have the time to waste on research.
The curse was already taking hold, gnawing on the long thread of his patience. He was fighting, hard, as every minute ticked by to stay calm. He had less than 7,000 minutes, she had less than 7,000 minutes; and he felt like every minute spent in this cave was wasted on yet another dead end. He dropped the books he’d been carrying, hard, next to her. He expected her to jump, he wanted, not needed to scare her out of the dream she had wrapped herself up in this morning. He wanted her to feel the stress, the terror, of every minut
e he was living through.
She barely flinched.
He gnashed his teeth together as he swallowed down a growl of frustration. He tried to remember that she had bought them time. Time she was wasting on a dusty works of myth, his inner demon reminded him. The deep growl he had tried to suppress rumbled the muscles of his abdomen, angry that it couldn’t vibrate his vocal cords. He was losing control, his mind was deteriorating quickly. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms of his hands hard and deep enough to draw blood. He inhaled deeply; drawing the slightly damp and dusty air in and rapidly forcing it back out again. The tender skin of his lips twitched uncontrollably as he tried, and began to fail, at keeping calm.
“Lucas, sit down before you fall,” calm words from a serene face, the face of a friend he tried to remind his hidden monster.
He began pacing the floor driving his heels hard into the thick concrete beneath his feet. He drove down his anger, his rage and his fear hoping it would absorb the monster buried deep within him.
“Lucas that is enough!” Wills ordered and he froze.
She held no power, no magick; her words could not force him to stop. He knew this; he wanted to believe it because it was easier to accept than the truth…He had stopped himself. She had ordered and he had obeyed; not because she had forced him but because he had wanted to. He gasped and looked over to her stunned by the realization and hoped she had answers to fill his blank mind. She smiled back at him and the warmth of that smile lit a fire behind her blank grey-eyed stare.