by Debra Kristi
“We’re closing up. Everyone will have to leave soon,” Hank murmurs from behind me. “I hate to be insensitive, but you’ll need to gather whatever you’re taking and exit with the rest of the staff.”
Wiping my cheek, I shield my face and nod. “Thanks. I’ll be ready.”
Without another word, Hank leaves. Slipping the picture in my back pocket alongside the snapshot of Crystia and Caesar, I gather the rest of her belongings, close the locker, and head toward the front.
On the way out, I walk slowly past some of the cat habitats. The smaller cats are right next to the office. None are like the huge one in the picture with Crystia. A wave of guilt overcomes me as I walk the short path. Guilt for not having come while Crystia was still here, when she wanted me to meet Caesar. It was such a simple request.
Something silky rubs the length of my arm. It might be a breeze. I turn to see who has come up beside me, but no one’s there. I decide it’s nothing more than my overactive imagination. A short wind burst blows right into me, wrapping around me like an embrace, throwing me for a loop. When the wind dissipates, all the cats are watching me. It’s awkward and uncomfortable to be on display. It makes me itchy.
“Crystia.”
Where did that come from? I heard a voice, yet didn’t. It came from somewhere on my right. There are only cats here.
“No, Crystia kin.”
I spin my head to the left. The sound came from there this time. Just more cats staring at me.
“Smell like Crystia.”
Right again. I start backing toward the exit, keeping my eyes on the cats. I clutch Crystia’s items tightly in my grasp. Is this what she meant about hearing them? I never thought…
“Ana?”
I stare at a feisty-looking orange-and-white cat with pointy ears. The plaque says he’s a bobcat. Did he just call me by my name?
“Ana, kin of Crystia.”
Oh. My. Gaea. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never talked to a cat that talked back before. I swallow and nod my head in acknowledgment.
“Where Crystia?”
I throw my hands to my mouth, dropping everything. The tears start trickling down my face like a leaky faucet. I can’t speak, not even if I wanted to. I fumble to pick up Crystia’s stuff, turn, and bolt for the front gate.
Hank and the nice greeter see me leaving and yell their goodbyes as I rush by. Only, right before I go through the gate, something whispers for me to step to the side into the bushes and wait, and for some reason, I do. I disappear into the bushes and hunker down for a good stay, until the last sound of human activity is long gone. They didn’t come look for me. The old clunker in the lot must have hidden my car. Either that or they were all in a hurry to get home.
I’m stiff and sore when I finally slip from the bushes. I set Crystia’s stuff down in the open and reluctantly walk back toward the cats. It’s darker now, harder to see. My eyes strain to spot them, even as they’re aware of my presence. Reflective eyes in the various habitats surrounding me follow me like spooks on Halloween. I search for the orange-and-white bobcat, nodding to him when I find him. I swear he responds with a blink and a sneeze.
In an attempt to make eye contact with each of the cats before I speak, I spin in a circle, eyeing them all. “I know that many of you were friends with my sister, Crystia. I want you all to know she often spoke of you with great love. She has moved on to meet her maker and can’t visit you anymore.”
“She go wit’ white lioness?”
Guessing what the bobcat means, I clasp my hands before me and nod. “Yes, I’m sorry to say she has.”
“Shadows get her too?”
My blood runs cold, and hate takes root deep. I don’t know about shadows, but something took my sister, and I’m going to see that something pay.
“Get her too?” I say. “Is this about the cat you lost here?” What was his name? “Aldo?”
“Yes, shadows take Aldo when they come lookin’ for girl.”
Just like my dream. “Caesar tried to stop Aldo?”
“Yes. Caesar good warrior, watch over Aldo. Aldo no listen.”
“Where can I find Caesar?”
“Caesar there.” The orange bobcat paws at the chain-link, showing me the direction I must go.
I thank him and head off in search of my sister’s favorite feline. Rounding the corner, I scan the various cats on either side of me as I continue to the end of the complex. Other cats call Crystia’s name or call me kin as I pass, but I press on. What’s happening is so surreal. Feeling a tingly squeeze on my hand, I glance down. Nothing’s there. I swing around the habitats to a back area. That’s where I find him, in the largest space of all. Caesar.
“Ana, kin of Crystia,” he says. “Welcome. I have long awaited your arrival.”
“Caesar, I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances.”
I glance to the side. Surrounded by so many cat cages, I’d expect to be bombarded by stronger animal scents. They are actually rather mild.
Caesar chuffs and stares into my eyes for what seems like hours. When he finally turns away, he circles, appearing agitated. “Shadows did this. Crystia was not the end goal.”
Raw pain returns to the surface. I fight to keep it under control. I need to show strength. Especially now, in front of this magnificent creature.
“What do you know?”
“I know the shadows from the other world came here looking for the girl. And Crystia was close to what they were looking for, but not exact. You may be the one they want.”
Crystia better not have died for me. The thought makes me numb, and it takes me a moment to answer. “Maybe. What are these shadows?”
“They serve the dark. She must be looking for the girl for some reason. Do you know why?”
“No. The dark is a she? What is the other world? Do you mean Hiddenkel?”
“You know not of the other world? But you smell of it. How can you not know?”
“I just don’t, okay? People keep secrets. I’ve only begun to piece things together.”
“This is most strange, Ana, kin of Crystia. Hiddenkel, could be. We all have different names for it. Your kind may call it that.”
“All right, Caesar, Warrior Tiger.”
He tilts his head, possibly confused by my words or tone. I’m not sure which. Didn’t Crystia talk to him in her usual mocking tone? Maybe she was different around him. He does have a regal air about him. Maybe he brought out a different attitude in her. I would like to have seen that.
Caesar pushes his head forward, as if to study me closer. His ears suddenly perk up, and he tilts his head to the left. He’s listening to something. Then I hear it too, as if it just came into my range. Strange new voices, like the ones in my messed-up dream or from that night at the school pool. At first they’re scrambled, then it’s like my brain is immediately decoding them and they start to make sense.
Are the shadows coming to find me? Am I “the girl”?
“You must go now. Go quickly. Before they arrive.”
“Are the shadows coming?”
“It would be dangerous if they found you here. You must go. Now.”
“What about you?”
“Worry not about me. I will be fine. I must stay and watch out for the others. Go!”
“I’ll be back. And we’ll talk more then. Okay?”
“Yes. Go now, Ana, kin of Crystia. While you still can.”
I bolt for the front, grabbing Crystia’s stuff along the way, faltering at the gate. I’m unsure of what to do next. The place is locked for the night. I stare at the secured bars, wondering how I’ll manage my exit. Something massive and furry rubs against me. Caesar now stands beside me. “How did you get out here?”
“I leaped.”
Obviously.
“Thought you might need my help.”
“What can you do for me?”
“Time is short. Quick, get on.”
“Seriously?”
“Now, chi
ld!”
The power of his voice is something to behold. It booms through the night sky, even if I only hear it in my mind. I lay out Crystia’s jacket, throw all the items in the center, and fold the jacket around them, then gather it tight to hold with one hand. Apprehensively, I climb onto Caesar’s back. Unsure how I should hold on, I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Hold tight, young one.”
Before I can catch my breath, he bounds off the side of the building, then up and over the roof. We run through the parking lot toward my car, stopping with a slide next to the Explorer. Shaking, I unclench my hold and remove myself from his back, sliding to the safe, unmoving asphalt.
“If you could get out at any time, why do you stay?” I ask, shaking the tension from my body.
“I stay for the others. They need me.”
“You’re a good…” I pause, searching for the right word. “A good protector.”
“I do what I can. These cubs, they are my family now. Go. It is not safe for you here. Darkness descends.”
With unrivaled grace, he leaps into the indigo night and disappears. I stare at the dark place into which he vanished, a sense of unease and dread squirming in the pit of my stomach.
Dohlan comes to me in all his grace and glory, shining like an angel. He is irresistible, and I can’t remember why I was mad at him. I don’t want him to see me, the mess that I am, eyes sore and heavy-laden with sorrow. But he turns me toward him, silently opening his arms to encase me. His embrace reels me in, and I go willingly, letting myself be enfolded within his care. He does nothing more than hold me all night long. Neither of us speaks. I only cry. He soothes, kissing the top of my head, my forehead, my hands. Lightly stroking my hair, my back, and my arms.
It’s all I need. All I want.
In this time of weakness, all has been forgiven.
Dreary prospects come hand in hand with morning. There are arrangements to be made, and I don’t look forward to anything. I lie in bed, lacking any desire to move, clinging to the memory of Dohlan holding me in last night’s dream, and then it hits me—how does he make me forget everyone and everything else? Maybe it has something to do with my blood, like he said. I don’t like it. He takes away my control. It’s time for me to take back my power.
No.
It’s time for me to be more than I was. No more searching to Ry for the answers. I’m smart, I’m strong, I’m a skilled fighter who can hold her breath for an exaggerated period of time under water, I can talk to cats, I apparently hear incredibly well, and I can shoot tiny sparks from my finger (sometimes). Somehow. I will figure this all out.
The door creaks open, and Mom peeks in. “You’re up. How are you this morning?” She steps to the bed and sits beside me.
I hug myself. “I’ll be all right.”
She places her hand on the side of my face, a melancholy look on her own. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime. None so great as the way I handled you.” She caresses my cheek. “I should have been honest with you a long time ago about who and what you are. Anala, I’m sorry, honey. Selfishness and fear ruled my choices.” Her hand drops to her lap, her gaze staying firmly on mine. “My first husband was lost in battle. When I connected with your father, it was an unforeseen blessing.” She clutches my hands, holding them tight. “But then we lost your sister Kaia, and after that I lost your father too. Now Crystia. I always knew I would lose two daughters. As soon as I gave birth to the first of the three. The Triune. The Balance Bringer.”
“I don’t understand why they had to die? Why only one?”
Her gaze meets mine. “So you know about the Balance Bringer. There is always only one. The other two die in order for the one to fulfill her destiny. I selfishly tried to change it. I thought if I could keep you in the dark, hold you here in this world, not knowing, then things might be different.”
“Look how that worked out for Crystia,” I whisper.
She bows her head. “I was wrong. And now I may have put you in more danger by keeping you in the dark.” Her fists clench and unclench and clench again. “I’m a warrior of the Usoda clan. I’m supposed to be strong. Marduk expected that from me. What he failed to factor in is that my line isn’t pure. We’re weakened with emotion.” A tear travels her cheek.
I want to be angry at her for keeping so much from me. I have been angry, except this sudden emotional confession disarms me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “Emotions don’t make us weak, Mom. They make us stronger.”
She lets one weak laugh escape. “Spoken like your father.”
“Tell me about him.”
Her eyes glaze over. I suspect it’s a memory from the past she’s seeing rather than my room. “He was strong, commanding, and regal. When he spoke, legions followed him. Our warriors followed his rule. He was the king.” She studies me and fluffs my hair at the sides. “You are a princess.” A boulder drops into my chest. “He was gentle and kind, honest and true.” She stares at the wall behind me, looking lost.
I’m stuck on the word princess. I’d much rather be a warrior. “What do you mean by princess? I don’t like the sound of that.”
Mom snaps out of her daze, a laugh in her smile. “It’s not like a Disney princess, Anala. You would have trained to fight, just as you have with Ryland.”
I chew on that thought and remember what Ry said about officer rank. “Okay. So you are part of some warrior clan, Usoda. Is that like a race thing? Does that make me part warrior by nature? Is my fighting ability an innate talent? And what of my father? If he wasn’t the same, then what was he?” I lean forward on the bed.
Her weary smile widens. “You have a lot of questions. It’s my fault for leaving you in the dark. Yes to your warrior query. We’re all born fighters. You have the added benefit of your father’s blood. He was the strongest among the Fae.”
“Fae!” The word burst from my lips. “As in fairy?”
Mom laughs out loud. “I have never known any Fae to be anything near what the fairy tales make them out to be. They come in many different molds, from deceitful to trustworthy, and they are very real and never small or cute with pixie dust.”
Her words generate visions of Tinker Bell. Suddenly Tink is stomped out by Dreya. My nose wrinkles in disgust. “If Dad is Fae, then Dreya is too.”
Mom grabs my forearm. “You’ve seen her?” She searches my face before continuing. “I was afraid the gift would extend beyond the warrior side of the family.” She shakes her head. “Be careful, Anala. She is extremely dangerous. Never trust her.”
Wrapping my hand over hers, I meet her gaze. “I promise. Now tell me, Mom. Why did my sisters have to die?”
Her body stiffens, and she tries to pull away, so I hold steady to her hand. “I don’t know. I don’t understand why it is so, only that it has always been. I am not the one to address that question.”
“Then who, Mom? Who has the answer?” My voice cracks.
Her gaze drops to the bed. “I don’t know, Anala.”
“Well, I hate it! It’s a shitty thing to do to a family.” With my balled fists I hit the mattress. “What kind of fucked-up destiny is this?”
Mom yanks me into an embrace, holding me immensely tight. I understand now where her strength for these intense hugs comes from.
When she pulls back, the look on her face has me braced for bad news. “I don’t want you to be upset. I’ve already made the arrangements. I wanted to give Crystia’s friends a chance to say their goodbyes, but everything has to happen quickly, given the events of the other night. I need to get you out of here and somewhere safe.”
“But I don’t want to leave Jaden,” I say, my voice rising.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that. I have a feeling he’ll always find you.” She pats my leg and rises from the bed.
It’s like a weighted blanket just dropped across my shoulders. “What does that mean?”
She pauses at the door. “I should really leave that between you kids
and let him tell you.” She turns to go, then ducks back. “Can you find Crystia’s personal contacts? Help me get ahold of everyone and let them know we’ll have the service tomorrow at three o’clock. It’ll be at Devine Triad Sanctuary.”
A small shock wave rocks me. “Tomorrow? You weren’t kidding when you said things would move quickly. Will Ry make it? I haven’t been able to find him.”
“I doubt it, but he will understand. Don’t worry about him, Anala. He can handle himself just fine.”
I read between the lines. He’s an Usoda warrior like my mom.
“He knows your safety is too important.” She leaves me on that thought.
I’m staring at the door, thinking of all I’ve just learned and all I must do, when a scratching sound to my right draws my attention to the dresser. After a bit, I figure out what’s different. In the center of my dresser sits a small square of chocolate. What the hell?
I take the foil-wrapped surprise in my hand and flip it in my palm several times. Curiosity nibbles away at me, so I gently unwrap the awaiting horoscope, careful not to rip any of the words. Oh, how I love the smell of chocolate. Even in this dark time. I lay the horoscope flat on my dresser, smooth it with my fingers, sit back, and study it.
Think without restraint.
After a minute, I take a pushpin and tack it to my corkboard, then study all my horoscopes, my gaze focusing in on one reminding me how much my conduct matters.
It is how one acts upon a situation that defines them.
I return to the new one. Sounds like the motto for a get-rich scheme. Regardless, I’ll try my best not to limit myself or make assumptions. A blanket of ice slides over me as I return to reality. I sluggishly lift myself from the bed and stare at my jeans on the floor. The shard from Jaden’s glass rock is sticking out of the back pocket. Picking up the broken bit and turning it in my hand, I force myself down the hall toward her room. It feels like I’m dragging an extra fifty pounds of dead weight. The search for everyone Crystia knows is on.
I’m alone with Crystia’s stuff. There’s not a whisper of her anywhere, except the lingering sweet scent of her peach body lotion. I don’t know what I expected. I whisper her name, thinking she might be the ghost haunting me, if there is one. There’s no answer, so I sit slouched on the bed. My sister is dead, and I’m upset I don’t see her ghost.