The Twilight Star
Laura E. Collins
The Twilight Star
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons; living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The use of herbal medicine in this book is fictional and not to be construed as real treatment recommendations.
Copyright © 2019 by Laura E. Collins
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For Ava and Emma.
May you never stop believing in fairy tales.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter 1
Come on seven-thirty! It’s eleven hours into my twelve hour day-shift on a Friday at the Fairmont Medical Center and I am ready to drop from exhaustion. Everything that could have gone wrong today did. I’ve had anywhere from six to eight patients at a time since I started early this morning, not including the two discharges and two admissions I have had in addition to taking care of my post hip and knee surgery patients. Between the co-worker that called in sick leaving us short staffed, the dressing changes, the blood transfusions, and the patient that crashed and had to be transferred to the intensive care unit; I was lucky to get ten minutes for lunch. But, . . . this is what I signed up for; I am a nurse. It is a rewarding and noble profession, but it isn’t easy. One more hour and I am off for four whole days!
My iPhone had a few texts waiting for me when I finally made it to the locker room to get my purse and head out for my nice long weekend.
“You ready for some fun tomorrow?” Sarah’s text read.
“Absolutely! I’ll be there at nine,” I typed back as I walked out.
Sarah was one of my friends from college and she loved to plan group outings. I always wondered why she worked as an advertising assistant instead of a wedding coordinator. She seemed to always be organizing something; picnics, dinners, outings to the Blackhawks or White Sox, etc. She never had trouble finding people to participate. This time it was the Rose Renaissance Faire. I had to admit that I was looking forward to it. It had been a few months since my boyfriend and I broke up and Sarah said she had someone in mind for me. I suspected that I would meet him tomorrow. The Rose Renaissance Faire had been around for decades. It was only open during the summer months and had all kinds of attractions that anyone who was a fan of medieval things would appreciate. They even had a queen that presided over everything and led a parade once a day. Aside from the vendors, there were hair braiders, tarot card readers, plays, games, comedy acts, sword fighting, fire breathers, jugglers, jousting, and all sorts of food and drinks. My father used to take me and my sister, Elizabeth, to the Faire once every summer until I turned fourteen and found it to be un-cool. Now that I am older, I guess I’ll give it a go with Sarah and her group of friends.
After a twenty-five minute drive I pulled up into the garage of my town home. My father helped me put together a down payment as a graduation gift so that I could have my own place. Living alone was an adjustment, but I already loved it. It is hard to date someone seriously when you live with your dad.
I pulled some leftovers out of the fridge and ate my dinner while watching TV. Afterwards, I looked through my walk-in closet and took out a simple outfit for tomorrow; cargo shorts and a tank top. June in Chicagoland was usually warm, but it was almost ridiculous how hot this one was. Since I had a long day, I took a nice relaxing steamy shower; and a short while later I switched out the lights and practically collapsed into my bed.
My alarm dragged me out of my sleep at seven-thirty. After hitting snooze a couple of times I decided I had better rise and get ready for my day at the Faire. I dashed in and out of the shower quickly and blew out my strawberry blonde hair that fell just past my shoulders. Since I was meeting a potential new boyfriend today, I took care to apply some makeup to compliment my green eyes and clear complexion. I grabbed a small cross body purse and took only my wallet, my phone, a few hair ties, sunglasses, keys, mints, lipstick, sunscreen, and some hand sanitizer. After I inhaled a small bowl of cereal I was on the road. Sarah hated when people were late and we were carpooling today. I pulled into the lot of her condo to find her already waiting outside the entrance with her sister, Samantha.
“Hey!” I said in greeting as I walked up to them. Sarah Chilton was my friend, her younger sister, Samantha, I knew by acquaintance only, however she always seemed pleasant and shy. They both had dark blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. Sarah stood around my height, which was five feet eight and Samantha just a few inches shorter. Sarah always kept her hair cut in a chic bob about chin length, and Samantha let hers grow long and straight. Today it was coiled up in a neat bun.
“Hey girlfriend!” Sarah said as she greeted me with a hug. “Are you ready to meet Mr. Right today?” she teased coyly.
“I can’t wait,” I said with mock enthusiasm. The truth was I wasn’t sure if I was ready for another relationship right now. I had experienced a sad and messy breakup a few months prior with my boyfriend, who I thought was Mr. Right, and I was so disappointed when I discovered his feelings for me did not match the ones I had for him. Just when I was about to prod her for details, her boyfriend Sean pulled up in his black SUV.
As soon as he stopped, the three of us piled into the vehicle. Sarah rode up front with him, greeting him with a kiss, while Samantha and I took the back seats.
“The only reason I agreed to go to this thing today is because they serve beer there,” Sean said as he sped away from the condo complex.
“Oh come on,” Sarah teased. “You might enjoy yourself.”
Sean Hartley, Sarah’s boyfriend, was twenty-five; a little bit older than the rest of us. I was twenty-two, Sarah was twenty-three, and Samantha was only twenty. I can only describe Sean as a jock. He worked at a Chicago gym as a personal trainer and had prestigious clients. At around six feet, two inches tall of well built muscle and a few tattoos peeking out below his black T-shirt, he could be very intimidating, especially with his strong take charge kind of personality. He could be considered handsome with his tawny golden brown hair and blue eyes, square jaw, and tanned complexion, but he just wasn’t my type. I could never survive in a relationship with someone so directive.
“Hi Evie,” Sean said in greeting by making eye contact into the rear view mirror with me.
I greeted him and then we were off, engaging small talk as he drove at break neck speed on the expressway towards the Rose Renaissance Faire, which was about an hour drive from us. How he did not get pulled over, I’ll never know. I almost had to shut my eyes out of fear as he weaved in and out of traffic. Neither Sarah nor Samantha seemed to flinch.
Relief swept through me when we finally pulled into the large
field-turned-parking-lot of the Faire. Sarah’s phone pinged with texts from the rest of our party that we were meeting up with. I practically leapt from Sean’s car feeling grateful that he didn’t kill us all on the way up here. The Faire would be busy today; the vast open green lot was already filling up with vehicles. The four of us made our way to the entrance where we met up with the rest of Sarah’s friends. It turned out there would be nine of us. Our group consisted of myself, Sarah, Samantha, Sean, Hannah Murphy our old school friend, and Kennedy Vanderbilt, one of Sarah’s friends. Sarah introduced me to Paul Walker with a gleam in her eye as if to indicate that he was here for me. He brought a friend and co-worker named Matthew Kirk. The last of our party was Josh Abner, one of Samantha’s friends.
Paul walked with me up to the ticket booth and offered to pay for my admission, but I declined, simply because this technically wasn’t a date. I appreciated the gesture and he seemed nice. He was taller than me, around six feet with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He had an average build and seemed like a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. He spoke pleasantly and I liked his voice.
“What do you do for a living, Paul?” I asked as we walked through the entrance gate.
“I write code for Motorola,” he replied with a shrug. “Sarah tells me that you are a nurse.”
“Yes, I work on a surgical orthopedic floor at Fairmont.”
While we continued to talk, the others from our group did the same as we collected our map and schedule for the park. I always remembered the Faire as a cheerful place with its vibrantly colored flags and tents swaying in the wind, the beautiful costumes of its volunteer staff, and the medieval music being played or sung by the various actors and actresses. The scent of food being cooked and barbequed wafted everywhere. We wove around the vendors, casually stopping to look at the medieval themed merchandise for sale. Everyone here spoke in a fake English accent and some were better than others. Sean was naturally drawn to the exhibits on swords and armor while Sarah, Samantha, and I were intrigued by the costume makers.
“Babe, are you sure you don’t want one of these?” Sean asked Sarah as he pointed to a chain mail corset.
“Not today,” Sarah replied with a smile. The rest of us chuckled a little bit.
Some people really got into their visit to the Faire, wearing anything from beautiful authentic looking ensembles and gowns to creature costumes, and scantily clad women whom were supposed to be fairies. Then there were the people like me who simply dressed comfortably for the heat. It was close to ninety degrees today and I felt sorry for the women who had laced themselves up into those authentic looking gowns, even though they were pretty.
After seeing a few skits and a comedy act, we left to explore the other side of the park before heading back for lunch. Just for fun I wanted to visit one of the tarot card readers and see what she had to say about my future.
The sun beat down on Paul and I as we walked side by side, making small talk, heading towards the side of the Faire where the tents for the psychics and tarot card readers were. I learned he was twenty-three and had been working for Motorola for the past year. He wore a baseball cap over his dark brown hair, shading his hazel eyes. I liked his even voice and the way he smiled and chuckled a lot talking about his life.
“So do you actually believe all of that mumbo jumbo these people tell you?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Not necessarily,” I replied lightly. “I just like to see how accurate they are,” I joked. The truth was tarot cards intrigued me ever since I saw a reader just for fun with a friend when I was a freshman in college. My reading with her had been eerily accurate about some of the things that had happened before and after I saw her. She had even known about my mom.
My mother and father divorced before my older sister Elizabeth and I were even in kindergarten. Afterwards, she decided to leave us with him and we hardly ever saw her after that. My father was a successful attorney and worked very hard, long hours. I remember we had countless baby sitters and nannies over the years until we were old enough to take care of ourselves. No matter how many women came and went in my father’s life, he never remarried. As the years passed, we stopped caring whether or not our mother was part of our life, we simply accepted that she was not. The last we heard of her three years ago, she was out in California somewhere working in the film industry.
I stepped up to the ticket booth and paid the fee for the tarot card reader and Paul and I parted ways, planning to reconvene a little while later. I sat down across from the reader and smiled at her. She appeared to be in her forties and was dressed like a gypsy with large hoop earrings and a brightly colored head scarf. Her fingernails were painted in a shiny silver hue. She had even smeared silver makeup on a few of her fingers for dramatic effect. Celestial tattoos shimmered here and there on her hands and arms. I had to admit, she looked the part of being able to perform divination. The reader introduced herself and smiled back at me. She asked me to think of a question I wanted an answer to as she shuffled the cards. She set the deck down and asked me to cut it into thirds, then shuffled them again before she spread the cards out in front of me.
“Concentrate on your question and draw seven cards.”
I did as she asked, but I the only question I had centered around what my future would be like. She studied me as I drew the cards and then took the ones I selected and arranged them into a pattern. She offered me an explanation for each one as she flipped them over while I watched.
“The Eight of Wands shows you will have great haste, hopes, and a journey.” She flipped another card, “The Eight of Cups could indicate disappointment in love.”
Great, I thought. She continued flipping cards. Next came the Queen of Wands followed by the King of Swords. Nothing remarkable here. That’s when my reading took a more serious turn. She turned the next tarot card and I saw The Tower.
“I see change and significant conflict in your near future,” she said solemnly as she revealed another card. “The High Priestess means your future is uncertain.”
The final card she uncovered made me a little uneasy. I saw a skeleton clad in armor riding a white horse; it was the Death card. I knew it didn’t really signify death, but it was still disconcerting.
“It appears as though changes are definitely heading your way, also some destruction followed by renewal. This, plus the other cards, tell me that your life will be going through a major transition soon . . . whether or not it is good or bad, I cannot say.”
“When are these changes supposed to happen?” I asked in an amused tone.
She glanced down at the spread of cards. “Imminently,” she replied seriously.
I left the tarot card reader’s tent a little disappointed. I thought I would hear about how many children I would have one day, or when I would meet Mr. Right, or whether or not I would win the lottery. I decided that this was the last time I would see a tarot card reader by the time I had meandered back to the group that was meeting up in the food court area.
“Evie, we’re getting ready to order. Are you going to get a turkey leg with us?” Sarah asked.
“Sure,” I replied as I reached into my purse for my wallet.
“Don’t forget the beer,” Sean said as he gave Sarah a quick kiss on the mouth. Although Sean was a little rough around the edges for me, I had to admit that they made a nice couple. Sarah’s sister, Samantha, caught up to the group with her friend Josh and added their order. Everyone seemed to be in brighter moods about forty-five minutes later after eating a roasted turkey leg and having a beer or three.
Afterwards we all went to see the jousting tournament which took about an hour. By that time the heat started to get to me and I felt beat wanting to seek some shade. I consulted the map and suggested that we all visit the “Enchanted Forest” part of the park.
“Don’t you want to see the parade?” Hannah questioned.
“Forget the parade, let’s get out of the sun,” Sarah said, fanning herself with her program.
>
Together the nine of us marched off towards the Enchanted Forest while most of the crowded park headed in the opposite direction for the parade. Paul and I walked through the gates first into the hedges that were cut and arranged to look like a small maze. The others followed, chattering and laughing as we passed all sorts of staged props, a “witches hut,” as well as various things hanging from the trees.
“This reminds me of the Blair Witch Project,” Paul mentioned as he pointed up to some bizarre looking props hanging above us.
“This is so lame,” Sean complained as he and Sarah followed behind us.
We continued on into the maze of trees where it suddenly seemed to become hazy, to the point where I had a hard time seeing more than fifteen feet in front of me.
“Hey, they’re cheating! They didn’t have fog machines back in medieval times,” Kennedy joked. The others continued to laugh and crack jokes as we continued on.
“Do you feel that?” Paul asked me with a curious expression. “The temperature just dropped several degrees.”
He was right. “That’s so strange,” I agreed as I began to wonder if this was a haunted forest instead of an enchanted one.
The mist we were walking through kept growing thicker and I could no longer hear the music from the parade going on in the park. Then, several things happened simultaneously. I smelled the peculiar odor of ozone and heard a loud ringing sound in my ears, like the kind of ringing you notice after going to a loud concert. It was different though . . . it wasn’t loud; it felt like it was penetrating my brain. Before I could ask the others if they heard it I took a step and started to fall, feeling like I had been sucked into something. I shrieked and put my arms out in front of me, expecting to fall flat on my face but it didn’t happen, I just kept falling. The adrenaline kicked in and my heart felt like it was going to beat itself right out of my chest. I couldn’t see anything while the ringing sound intensified. I heard other sounds as I tried to put my hands over my ears. The noises sounded like horses neighing, swords clashing, and medieval minstrel music. Then everything stopped and went dark.
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