by Debra Kristi
“Why didn’t you just say all this right from the beginning? Why the coy game with Skylar?” I push his hand away.
“You were kept in the dark. Unaware of your destiny, of me, and the changes to come. Would you have been so easily accepting?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t give me a chance.” I bite my lip and study his cheek. It quivers. “That still doesn’t explain Skylar. You spent every day with her. Hanging on her, kissing her.” Bile rises in my throat, and I stand to leave. I don’t want to talk about this. Not today.
He grabs my arm, halting me with his piercing green eyes. “I never kissed her. I kept her from hurting you. That was my goal all along. It’s always been about you, Ana.”
My muscles relax as his essence rinses over me, only my mind is still jumbled, bombarded with emotions.
“Then why didn’t you stop it?” I push at his chest. “Why didn’t somebody stop Crystia’s death?”
I crumble inside, and my hands fly up to my face, hiding the tears. My knees give out. His hands firmly grasp my elbows, and then his arm encircles my waist, holding me up.
“I’m sorry, Ana. I didn’t want you to experience the pain, but Crystia’s death was necessary in order for you to become what you’re meant to be.”
I try to shove away. I don’t want him to see me cry.
He wipes my cheek with his thumb, then leans forward and kisses my forehead. “It’s going to be all right.”
“Why do you feel so familiar to me?” I mumble.
“You should answer that yourself. It would mean more that way.”
He rubs his hand down my back, and an immense calm washes over me, preparing me for the service to come. I wipe my eyes and look into his face—and see the boy from so many years ago. My green-eyed guy. The one I used to watch run along the cliffsides in Hiddenkel. He was with me for many years before disappearing overnight. My heart squeezes, and I know without a doubt he is one and the same. The dreams weren’t really dreams at all. They were memories.
“I believe we have a loved one to mourn. Will you allow me?” He raises a hand to the side of my face.
“What are you going to do?”
“Ease your pain.”
His words make me curious, and they make me want to see what comes next. His touch tingles my skin, and peace bubbles up within me. I calmly exhale as a gentle breeze settles around me. My anxiety about the service has abated. Tugging me gently, he wraps one arm around me and guides me out the door toward the sanctuary.
The mid-morning sun shows through the stained glass windows, casting the space in an amiable dance of color. We take our place in the front with Mom. Most who attend walk down the center aisle with a flower in hand. They ascend the front steps of the pastoral platform and approach a large cross standing front and center. Each carefully places their flower into the cross in honor of Crystia. It was my mother’s idea to create a beautiful tribute comprised of a wide array of floral choices. I placed my flowers in the cross already—pink carnations to say I will never forget, and red ones to say my heart aches for her.
We grow silent as the service gets underway with songs selected from the hymnal. I struggle to maintain control, and the experience is humbling, eye-opening. My grief is not easily contained, and tears threaten to reappear at any moment. Jaden splays his hand out before me, its warmth already radiating across my lap. I accept him, folding mine around his hand, and instantly feel more at ease.
I clutch a wet and worn tissue in my free hand, preparing for the inescapable onslaught. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Jaden places it in the palm of my hand, closing my fingers around it. Moving his arm around my shoulder, he turns his lips to my ear, and my body shudders.
He pretends not to notice. “I’m here for you, Ana.”
The minister’s words are beautiful and touching. The soloist sings a soft tune special for my sister, and a sharp pain rockets through my chest. I close my eyes, press my left hand to my thigh and my right palm to my chest, and breathe deeply. Pictures of the ocean, horses, and the woods flood my system. Jaden floods my system, his hand warming mine on my chest. My heart quickens to an unbelievable rate, and then slows again. I’m finding my calm. I’m going to be all right.
Not missing a beat, he melds to my side like a puzzle piece. Brushing the hair from my face and dabbing at my cheeks, his embrace creates a sense of calm, enabling me to climb and conquer my mountain of sorrow. He’s still holding my hand when the service concludes. Jaden’s arm is wrapped protectively around me, and our fingers have managed to weave together.
Standing, he extends his hand to my mom. “Mrs. Janssen. It’s regretful that our first meeting is under these circumstances.”
“Indeed, although I’m glad you could be here for Anala today.” She takes his hand firmly in her own. Mom looks to me, pain igniting in her red-lined eyes. Pulling me in tight, she hugs me to her breast. “It’s time to go.” Shuddering slightly, she drops her arms and pulls away.
We walk the long aisle leading us out the doors and stop at the top of the church steps. Jaden continues to linger at my side. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and I fan myself with Crystia’s memorial card. It seems unfair it would be a beautiful, sunny day when Crystia’s life is no more. Fidgeting, I stall, unsure what to do with this guy at my side. I don’t want to leave him now that the service has come to an end.
“I noticed a missing piece in your clan,” he says. “What happened to your warrior?”
My head jerks back, and I look at Jaden. Is he talking about Ry?
He laughs. “I mean Ryland no disrespect. He’s a great man who looks out for you. That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah? Then why isn’t he here right now?” My face falls. Where could he be? My mood plummets deeper into the hole of despair.
Jaden’s pinkie wraps around mine. “He’d be here if he could, you know he would.”
I gaze down at our linked fingers, feeling the truth in Jaden’s words. They sting. I’ve allowed my hurt to let doubt take root. “You’re right.” My last word is lost as a body unexpectedly crashes into me.
Bree squeezes me tight, then steps back. “You did good. How are you holding up?”
My head bobs like a broken trinket. I’m not sure how to respond. I’m not great, nor am I at my worst, thanks to Jaden. My gaze travels down to my toes.
She grabs my free hand and swings it between us like we’re best friends. “Wearing Crystia’s crystal wristband is a thoughtful way to remember her.” She raises my wrist and studies the band more closely before letting it drop. “Ah! This piece is gorgeous!” Her fingers hover over the crystal pendant at my neckline.
“Thank you,” I say. “It belonged to my other sister. My mom gave it to me this morning.”
Her eyes light up as they shift between the various stones adorning my body. “You’re wearing a lot of energy. Can you feel it? Can you feel her through it?”
“Feel her? What do you—”
Jaden steps forward. “Bree. Now is not the time.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Bree lowers her head.
I peer deep into the clear stone attached to my wristbands and wonder how different I’d be if I grew up without my mom too. “Don’t worry about it,” I say.
She throws her arms around me and hugs me, then heads for the parking lot. She stops and yells over her shoulder, “I’ll see you when you come back to school. Take care of Jaden.”
She winks, and I catch her hidden message. She wants me to cement things with Jaden.
He smiles at me. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.” I scan the crowd for my mom.
His eyes sparkle with hidden mischief. I get the impression he doesn’t believe me. He follows my gaze but gets distracted. “Wait here.” He strides off down the steps toward the parking lot.
I don’t want to appear anxious for his return, so I wander to the refreshment table and lean over the large ice bucket to fish out a bottled water.
“Hi. You’re Ana, Crystia’s sister, right?” The girl who was dancing with Crystia the night of Skylar’s party stands beside me.
My eyes widen as I stand from the ice bucket, and I cough back my surprise. “Yeah…you’re Crystia’s friend.” I wring my hands around the bottle.
“Natalie.” She puts her hand out in front of her, and I shake it. “I just—” She looks away, wipes a tear from her eye. “I wanted you to know how much she’ll be missed. Really, really missed.” She lowers her head, hiding her face.
I stare at my water. I don’t know what to say, but I should say something. I move forward to put my arm around her and pat, and she cries into my shoulder. “I’m glad she had a friend like you.”
“I loved your sister so much.” Her voice is thick. She sniffles, and we fall silent.
The discomfort is excruciating. And I’m still holding my water bottle. Not sure what to do about that.
“I need to go.” The girl pulls away, looks at me with mascara pooling beneath her eyes, and then dashes away through the crowd.
I shift uncomfortably and twist my bottle in my hands. Natalie disappears from my sight within seconds.
My emotions are raw, and I haven’t a clue how to heal the pain. I gaze across the crowd, think of Jaden, and reflexively glance down to the parking lot, squinting against the sun. Crumbling creative Gaea. My entire body goes ridged and groans. Skylar is standing at the far edge of the lot with him.
I turn my back to them, stare at the church, the people, the refreshment table beside me. It’s no use. All I can think about is Jaden and Skylar and what they could be talking about. My heart hammers an uneven beat. A trickle of sweat glides down my temple. Skylar is always ruining everything. But not this time. She will not ruin Jaden. She will not destroy this chance for me.
I can’t take it, my heart can’t take it. “I’m sorry, Crystia,” I whisper.
Water still in hand, I march down the steps toward Jaden, fire churning inside of me. I can’t believe the audacity of Skylar. Here. Now. I won’t allow it. They’re so focused on their conversation, they fail to see my approach.
“You need to leave,” Jaden is saying. “It’s completely inappropriate for you to show up here.” He nudges her toward her car.
“But you haven’t explained. You need to tell me!” She stomps her foot.
“All you need to know is there is nothing between us. There never was. Go home, Skylar.”
“Not until—”
I step forward. “Is everything okay here?”
They both turn to look at me.
“Skylar was just leaving.” Jaden flashes her a stern look.
“Speak for yourself.” She plants her feet firmly on the asphalt.
“You know, Skylar. I’ve taken a lot of shit from you over the years, but not today.” I thrust my finger at her. “Today is Crystia’s day, and your shit-shoveling stops. I’m standing up and saying no more.” I flatten my hands across my dress. “Jaden said there’s nothing between you two. I suggest you take the cotton out of your ears and start listening, or your ego and image will only be further damaged.”
Her face twists into an ugly sneer. “I—”
I wave the palm of my hand at her. “Don’t push me, Skylar. Not today.”
She lunges at me, and Jaden snags her, twisting her sideways. Her arm swings out, clawing at me, knocks my water bottle out of my hand. It flips and sprays out in a zig-zag pattern.
I scream and throw my hands up.
No water falls on me, yet I can sense the splatters as they cascade off Jaden’s sleeve, glide down the streams of Skylar’s hair, dousing the front of her blouse. And then I’m inside Skylar’s thoughts, her memories. I see her huddled on the humongous sofa in her gigantic home all alone, night after night. She’s only four, maybe five. No family sits in the audience during the holiday school play. She’s dragged to school and made dinner by countless different nannies. No one tucks her in at night. No one wishes her good luck on her tests. And no one tells her they love her. She cries herself to sleep many nights. She plays with the boy down the street, they build a fort together where she can hide, an escape with the boy she secretly loves—Jeremy. The boy is Jeremy.
“Get out of my head!” Skylar screams.
I blink and stare at her, a massive void settling in my chest. No wonder she’s hated me so much.
She stares at me, a mask of horror where her perfect face used to be. I want to hug her, tell her I’m sorry, but I can’t bring myself to move.
“Are you all right, Ana?” Jaden gently caresses my arm.
Skylar throws herself in the car and starts the engine.
“Wait!” I wave for her to stop, but she cowers and peals out of the parking lot. We watch her car disappear down the street, not saying a word. When she’s completely out of sight, I look down at the empty water bottle on the ground. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”
Jaden wraps me snugly to his side. “Can I see you home?” His voice is soft, gentle.
“Thanks, but no. I think my mom needs me today.” Part of me hates saying that. I want to be with both, individually.
His face wrinkles in thought.
“I better go find her.” I turn to leave. The day has already been long. I’m tired, and I want to go home.
He tugs me back by our pinkie hold, spinning me to face him.
We’re dangerously close to each other, so I take a step back. “I really appreciate everything you did for me today. I will see you again, won’t I?”
“Definitely. Can we meet later tonight?”
My pulse takes off like the roadrunner, my mind jumping to thoughts of the snotty, messy, tear-laden girl I may be an hour from now. “Sure. Call me.” I act casual. “Be ready to answer all my questions.”
My pinkie slips from our sweet hold, and I run up the stairs in search of my mom.
Too many times my fake smile slides from my face. Playing hostess for the memorial reception is an experience I could have gone a lifetime without and been better for it. My jaw is tense and sore, and I’m twitchy all over. Forcing yet another grin, I listen to all the Crystia fiction floating through the house. I’m beginning to believe people never plan on leaving. More arrive by the minute, with more food and more stories. I can’t take it. Can’t keep up the act. Can’t listen anymore. I tune them out, then abandon them all together. In Crystia’s room, I take refuge with Oscar. Plant my butt on the floor and lean against the bed, knees tucked under my chin.
I hold the picture of Crystia and Caesar and the snapshot of us with Ry firmly in my grasp. Two pictures that will forever be extraordinarily special to me. With two fingers, I gently place a kiss on each of Crystia’s images, then pause. An intense glow emanates from deep within the stones of my wristbands. It’s amazing, captivating. This isn’t the first time they’ve lit up. I saw the crystals do this once before; now I better understand what’s happening. I shift my wrists, and the bands, closer together, then apart again. The brilliancy heightens as the space between the bands diminishes. The outer ring of their shimmer is blue and radiant like a brilliant light shining through the depths of the sea.
Bree’s words come threading back to me. Feel the energy, she said. I close my eyes and concentrate. Something slight vibrates around me, then it’s gone. Damn. An exhale of defeat blows past my lips, and I stare beyond my wristbands and the pictures in my hands to the art on Crystia’s closet door.
My gaze falls to Oscar. He looks confused that the pretty light he was chasing across the closet door is now gone. His head twitches back and forth, searching. In a space near his swishing tail, at the bottom of the collage, there’s a spot where pictures and postcards have been ripped away. The old scuffed surface is exposed, one word scrawled in black ink upon it: Hiddenkel.
My fingertips are drawn to the ink, to Crystia’s handwriting. Ideas and theories form, confusing me more than I already am. I imagine her adding the name after I told her the location of our shared dream.
Something bangs down the hall. It sounds like my bedroom door. Strange. I thought I heard the last of the well-intended visitors leave a while ago. Took them long enough. It must be close to six o’clock now. Never hold a memorial reception at lunchtime. Never. Setting my pictures safely on the floor, I flip around, face the bed and door, and gasp. Every last one of my chocolate horoscopes is lined up on her bed. But how? It’s been so quiet in here. I never heard a soul enter the room.
That’s just it though, isn’t it? A soul.
The squares are arranged to spell out Hidenk. I receive the message strong and clear. Hiddenkel.
With one wide sweep of my arm, I gather my horoscopes together and sit back beside the bed to formulate a plan. Except, Mom has already taken care of that, hasn’t she? My stomach churns, and an acidic taste fills my mouth. When she said we were leaving soon, I assume she meant for Hiddenkel, since that’s where I need to go for Crystia. I close my eyes and try to relax. Try to concentrate on what I want to know. I want to be prepared, just in case Mom’s plans aren’t in line with mine.
Air rolls in and out of my rib cage. Negative energy runs off me in a slow, reluctant wave as I try to drift. It takes time and a great deal of effort, but I progress and am finally rewarded with a vision of both my sisters. Crystia’s shiny and bright, and Kaia’s at her side. I know in my heart they will be waiting for me when I make the trip to my dream world.
Thunderous crashes and splintering cries of ripping wood echo through the house. I jump, instantly on my feet, and Oscar scurries under the bed. Something’s coming, something powerful. All my nerves tingle at the sound—the feel—of it. Thoughts of the shadows and Caesar immediately cloud my mind. I swoop the two pictures off the ground and stash them in my bra.
A heavy stomp has me turning to face the door. With the roar of multiple cannons, the door bursts open, cracking and separating the frame. The space of the doorway fills with dust, making it difficult to distinguish the figure filling the void. He takes a step forward.