Sapphire Sun

by Suzi Davis

  “I’m starving. Let’s find our table, and David too, I suppose.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure if we’ll see him soon. He disappeared with one of Tanya’s sisters almost as soon as the ceremony ended.”

  “One of the bridesmaids? Maybe we should go look for him.”

  “He can handle himself, just relax. Here, let’s order some champagne.”

  “Champagne?”

  “Yes, it is your nineteenth birthday.”

  I blinked, surprised. With all that had been going on, I had actually almost forgotten that it was my birthday and I was now the legal drinking age.

  “My mother certainly wouldn’t approve. What a great idea,” I grinned, glad Mr. Jenson had offered to be our chauffeur for the evening.

  It was much later in the night, after dinner and several flutes of champagne when David finally reappeared at our table. A slightly disheveled and guilty-looking bridesmaid had also returned to the head table, having missed dinner, speeches and the couple’s first dance. Luckily, Tanya was distracted enough being the center of attention that she barely seemed to notice.

  “So you’re not lost after all. Enjoying yourself, David?” Sebastian asked.

  David smirked but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to me.

  “Have you saved me a dance, Grace?” He held out his hand and my mouth went dry. I turned to Sebastian, my head spinning slightly.

  “I don’t mind sitting this one out,” he offered. “But it would be wise if you remembered she’s mine.” The last comment was directed at David, and from his tone, I wasn’t certain if he were joking or not. He had sounded strangely possessive. David smiled anyway.

  “Of course,” he murmured as he took my hand and began leading me towards the dance floor. I immediately shook loose from his grasp.

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” I warned him. “Just one dance.”

  David bowed his head in acknowledgement, looking amused as I stepped forwards, stumbling slightly into his arms.

  “I see you’ve been drinking.”

  His face was so close to mine, his hand sliding around my hip while his other steered me out onto the dance floor. My head was still spinning but my feet automatically fell into the steps of the dance, my classical training coming back to me effortlessly.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “Funny how it hasn’t loosened you up at all. If anything, you seem even more uptight,” David commented dryly. I looked up sharply to see that he was grinning. I didn’t find it funny.

  “Grace, I’ve been waiting all evening to ask you to dance,” David confessed. My heart skipped a beat.

  “I thought you were busy with your bridesmaid?” I accused.

  “Yes, but I’ve been thinking about you.”

  I avoided his eye, my heart now hammering in my chest. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. I could feel Sebastian watching us.

  “I wanted to get you away from Sebastian, so that we could talk,” David continued. “Grace, something strange is going on. Sebastian’s barely been sleeping at all lately and when he does, he tosses and turns and moans like he’s being tortured. He stays up most of the night brooding and he refuses to talk to me about it at all anymore. Grace… I think he’s remembering—I’m sure he is. And I think he’s remembered something bad, really bad, and he won’t tell me what it is. It could be important; you’ve got to help me find out.” He spoke in a low urgent voice in my ear, his head close to mine.

  I caught a glimpse of Sebastian as we spun past him on the dance floor. His face was expressionless, his eyes hard and narrowed. Suddenly, he looked like a stranger to me. I felt a wave of panic swelling within me.

  “I think he might be remembering too,” I agreed. “He won’t talk to me about it either though, it’s no use.”

  “You’ve got to keep trying, Grace. I think you’re right—we need to get our memories back. There’s something in the past that we’ve all forgotten, something big, something dangerous and I’m afraid it’s going to come after us again…”

  His words sent chills down my spine. I thought about all the strange things that had been happening to me lately: the objects that appeared to move in my room, the inescapable feeling that I was being watched, the shadows that moved in the corner of my eye, the malicious voices that whispered to me on the wind.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “I’m worried, Grace. Not just about Sebastian but for all of us.”

  I nodded my agreement. The music was picking up in tempo, our feet skipping over the polished floor, our bodies spinning faster and faster.

  “You’ve got to promise me you’ll keep trying to get him to talk and I’ll do the same. And if you remember anything or if you should find a way to remember, you have to promise you’ll share it with me,” he continued, speaking rapidly and urgently.

  “Ok,” I agreed, feeling dizzy and out of breath.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.” David sounded relieved.

  “May I cut in?” Sebastian had appeared, halting our movement and causing us to guiltily break apart.

  “Of course,” David agreed, smiling. “I might go hunting for another bridesmaid. Don’t wait up for me.”

  As soon as David stepped away, Sebastian spun me tightly in his arms and swept me back out onto the dance floor. I giggled with delight and we weaved and bobbed in time with the music, spinning and stepping in an intricate pattern across the dance floor that left many couples gaping and moving back to allow us more room.

  “At the fine, old age of nineteen, you can still dance Ms. Stevenson,” Sebastian teased. I grinned in delight at his playful mood, instantly forgetting the tense moments with David from just minutes before.

  “Do you think you can keep up?” I asked coyly, gazing up through my lashes at Sebastian. His smile deepened, his eyes becoming more intense.

  “Is that how you’d like to play?”

  “Who’s playing?”

  Our steps fell faster, our bodies moved closer, the heat between us building as our dance became ever more complex. The song fell to a close, our steps slowing as Sebastian spun me one last time and pulled me into a low and dramatic dip. Polite applause broke out around us but I ignored everyone except for Sebastian. He was all I could see, all I could think, all I could feel. And I wanted him so badly, every part of him. I slipped my hand up from the back of his neck and pulled his lips to mine, kissing him deeply and passionately, with full abandon and no thought to the watching—and now whistling—crowd. Sebastian ended our kiss all too soon, pulling away with a breathless laugh, his eyes smoky with desire.

  “I think you might have had too much to drink.”

  I shrugged, grinning mischievously. “It is my birthday.”

  “I should take you home.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, staring deeply into his eyes, “you should.”

  He swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to me being so direct and I wasn’t used to it either. I could understand why alcohol was often referred to as “liquid courage”, I certainly felt fearless tonight. It should also be called “spinny-maker”, I thought fuzzily, swaying enough that Sebastian reached out to steady me.

  “We should definitely go home. I’m calling Don now, and no more champagne,” he added.

  “You’re no fun,” I mumbled but I didn’t argue. I was starting to feel quite ill.

  On the ride home, I leaned into Sebastian’s warm body. I closed my eyes in hopes that the world would stop spinning about me, only to fall fast asleep. When I awoke in my bed several hours later, I was confused and disoriented, having no memory of how I got there. I could only assume that Sebastian had carried me from the back of Mr. Jenson’s car. I still wore the silver dress beneath the warm quilt tucked up around my chin.

  Once my eyes focused, I looked over at my alarm clock and discovered that it was exactly 3:33 am. I sighed and rolled over, wincing at the pain that flashed through my head. M
y mouth was dry and had a horrible taste in it, my calves ached from the heels I had worn and all the dancing we’d done, and I still felt dizzy and nauseous; though not as badly as I had when we’d left Clarke’s wedding. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep again any time soon, so I slowly sat up and looked about my room.

  Even in the dark, there was still enough light coming from the bright, full moon outside that I could make out most of the objects around me. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel uneasy. The moonlit shadows didn’t feel threatening. I knew I was alone, no mysterious eyes watched me, no voices whispered in my ear. My necklace felt warm against my chest.

  I sleepily stepped out of bed, moving towards my bedroom door with little thought to where I was going. My thoughts were still sluggish from sleep and champagne. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the stairs that I realized where I was going—outside, to her.

  I could clearly feel her presence out there. It was no surprise when I slipped out the kitchen door and walked around the house, to see the shadowed silhouette waiting for me out on the lawn, beneath the stunning full moon. Almost in a trance, I walked across the grass barefoot, the ice cold dew numbing my toes with each step. The presence called me, summoned me to her. She stood there waiting and I knew it was time.

  The night fell silent as I reached her. The twinkling of the stars paused. The moon’s pale light cast an eerie glow on everything, making the moment feel surreal.

  “I’m here,” I spoke softly, my voice as hushed as the moon’s sacred light.

  “We have been waiting for you,” the wind whispered back in my ears. My heart leapt into my throat, I tried to take a step back but it was too late. The dark, hooded figure turned around, her face hidden within the shadows of her cowl. “It is time for you to fulfill your destiny. It is time for you to remember, Gracelynn Stevenson,” the whispery voice hissed from the shadows, the sound swirling through the wind and howling through my ears as she spoke aloud my name, my one and true full name.

  Chapter Five – Inescapable

  At the sound of my forgotten name, Gracelynn, pain hit me from every direction; there was no escaping it, no surviving it. It pierced through my brain and consumed me. My necklace flared to red hot, a searing heat that burned through my chest. I fell to my knees screaming but I was so far gone, I couldn’t even hear my own screams. I was lost within myself, within a hundred lifetimes, within a million memories that seemed to go on forever.

  I remembered it all, every detail of my life and glimpses of those before it. Every moment I’d spent with Sebastian, every word spoken, every touch, every thought—it all came rushing back in a never-ending torrent. I remembered the first time we had met, two thousand years ago when I, Caoilinn, had failed to save his mother. I remembered our affair, kept hidden from the other priestesses at the temple. I remembered the last time we had been together as Caoilinn and Seamus before fate and its bloody knives tore us apart. I remembered the first time I had spoken with Sebastian in the art room at school, the walks we had taken, the memories we had made, the nights we had shared. I remembered our flight from the Others, racing across the country and across Europe. Our close-encounter with the Others in Ireland and Walter’s death at my hand flashed before my eyes, striking my mind like a blast of lightning that blazed deep within my soul. I cried out as I remembered Mags and the torture she had been put through before the Others stole her life, and the torture I had been through when I thought Sebastian wanted to be with her and not me. And I remembered those last forgotten moments, deep within the underground chambers of the Necromanteion when I had been sure we were all about to die at the hands of the Others, so I had sacrificed everything in an attempt to destroy the Lost Magic and wipe away all traces of its existence from our minds. I remembered David’s knife at my throat, his last attempt to stop me and to end my life before I had swept all our memories away.

  Time ceased to exist as the moment stretched into infinity. I swam through the pain, struggling to find the light through the endless stream of memories that flooded through my mind. My necklace throbbed with a blistering heat, a steadily glowing beacon that eventually pulled me back to the present, back to reality. I slowly opened my eyes, knowing as I did so that I would never recover my blissful ignorance again. The peaceful innocence with which I had lived these past few months was gone. I would never see the world the same way. I sensed that I would never be able to forget again. For I now remembered everything and there was no undoing or escaping the past. There never was.

  I opened my eyes to find myself staring straight up into the starry, moonlit sky. The bright points of light sparkled against the black canvas and hurt my eyes. My head felt so full, it was hard to think, impossible to focus. Guilt hit me first, hot and strong as I realized I was once again, to blame for all of this. I had caused the explosion, I had destroyed the Lost Magic and I had stolen all of our memories. I had made a mistake. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing through the pain and collecting myself before reopening my eyes to the bright and silent night.

  “Arise, child. We have not much time,” the dry, whispery voice commanded.

  Swallowing my fear, I obeyed. I rose on unsteady feet, regarding the dark hooded figure warily as it floated before me. My head was quickly clearing, my thoughts and memories catching up to the present.

  “Who are you?” I demanded, pleased that my voice only wavered slightly.

  “I am all those who came before you,” the voice whispered back, its breath riding the wind. “I am indebted to you and you to I. You will remember me as Niamh.”

  “Niamh?” I echoed. I rapidly searched through my memory, unused to the full feeling and the lack of gaping holes. A distant memory glimmered, a sense of the truth more than the knowledge of it. “The High Priestess,” I gasped. “From the Sisterhood that murdered Caoilinn.”

  The shadowed figure tipped its head back to gaze up at the moon, allowing the hood to fall. A ghostly figure was revealed. The apparition appeared to be a woman in her early forties. She hovered before me, her eyes dark, her cheekbones high, her expression calm and confident. Her skin was deathly pale, holding a transparent hue beneath the moon’s light. She was an apparition, her image flickering before me like a candle’s flame. I felt both afraid and relieved for I now knew that something had been haunting me these past few weeks, I wasn’t losing my mind after all.

  “What do you want from me?” I demanded, forcing myself to speak.

  “You know what I want.” The spirit of the powerful priestess who had died over two thousand years before watched me with dispassionate eyes. I looked away, seeing death in her black, bottomless gaze.

  “The Lost Magic,” I guessed. The spirit appeared to nod. “I destroyed it. It’s been lost forever.” Even as I spoke the words, I could sense that they weren’t true.

  “The magic cannot be destroyed, it is as old as time. It can only be lost and rediscovered. You have rediscovered it, Gracelynn, now you must embrace it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered, my fear increasing with each whispered word that the spirit spoke.

  “The magic cannot be destroyed,” the spirit repeated, her voice stern and terrifying. “You have done a noble, yet dangerous thing. You gave up your magic along with that of the Others and trapped it within the amber stone which you tried to destroy. But it cannot be destroyed. The magic lives on within that necklace around your neck and now whomever wears it can access its power if they so choose. You must release the magic from the stone and take it back into yourself. It is too dangerous to leave as it is.”

  “No,” I denied, shaking my head. “I don’t want it—I don’t want any of this. I just want to live a normal life. I gave it all up. I destroyed the magic and erased any memories of it.”

  “You destroyed the magic that had been given to those unnaturally,” the spirit corrected. “But it still lives within those who have the natural ability to access it. It lies dormant, waiting. It is time for you to release the magic and reaw
aken the power within.”

  My lips formed a silent ‘no’. I shook my head—I couldn’t, I wouldn’t.

  “It is your destiny,” she warned. “For thousands of years, no living soul has ever gained full access to the magic—until now. Your willingness in the Necromanteion to sacrifice everything, to give up your love, your life and your power, has earned you the right to access the full and true magic. You no longer need to use the amber stone to focus your abilities or the designs to contain your spells. The magic shall live inside of you and be subject to your command. It is a feat not even Caoilinn could accomplish, though she might have tried if her time on Earth weren’t cut short. You have rediscovered the true power of the magic—now you must embrace it.”

  “But I don’t want it.”

  “Which is why you have been given this power. The true magic is only for those who have earned the right, for those who do not seek or desire to use its strength. You vowed in the Necromanteion, on the border of the Underworld, to help the Others meet the full potential of their magic. The spirits have heard and accepted your vow; it is time to fulfill your promise.”

  “But I stripped the Others of their magic, they can no longer access it,” I objected, feeling desperate.

  Niamh watched me with her dark, impassive eyes. Her image flickered in and out of focus, the moon’s rays falling right through her and leaving no shadow on the ground.

  “You destroyed the magic that was granted unnaturally. A few of the Others had the natural ability within them, though most did not. There are several souls around the world who also have the potential to access the magic, and more waiting to be born; you will guide them. Once you release the magic from the stone, the magic that they have never known before will awaken. Their lives are about to change and it is your responsibility to help them, to teach them control and how to live with the magic. Not all will walk the path to the light, some will fall to temptation, to darkness. If you deem them unworthy of the magic, you must not teach them. It is your responsibility to strip those unworthy of their magic in the only way possible: by letting it bleed from their veins before they turn to the darkness and endanger the world.”