Heirs of Avalon

by Alica Mckenna Johnson

  I wasn’t sure how underwear made you feel sexy but I followed along.

  “Good morning ladies, how can I help you?” asked an elderly woman. Her gray hair was pulled up into a neat bun.

  “My niece needs to be measured for new bras, she’s grown quite a bit.”

  I looked down where I was yet again escaping my current bra.

  “Ah yes, blossoming into womanhood are we? Come here, and we’ll get started,” she said pulling out a tape measure.

  She hummed then sent me to the dressing room. “I’ll bring you several different styles in your size, then we can look at colors and fabrics.”

  I undressed and groaned at the stack of bras she passed over the door. The first one barely covered anything, the second pushed what I had up like an offering, and the third wasn’t bad but didn’t have enough support. “I like this one.” I lifted my arms up above my head and the fourth bra didn’t shift. It covered everything, and I didn’t look like I was advertising.

  “Pass it over, dearie, and we’ll get some more in that style for you to try on.”

  “Can’t I just pick them out since I know it will fit?” I asked passing the bra over.

  “Goodness no, you need to see the colors against your skin and feel the fabrics.”

  “Are you doing okay?” Anali whispered.

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I understand the point.”

  “I didn’t either at first. I’ll set aside a white, black, and beige in cotton. It’s always good to have the basics.”

  “Thanks Anali.”

  A mass of color was handed to me over the door. I was supposed to try all of these on? Picking up a pick cotton bra with little pink hearts, I set it in the ‘no’ pile.

  I fastened the hooks on a navy-blue satin bra with white lace on the edge of the cup. The color shone against my light copper skin. Was this what Anali meant? I picked another bra to try on my body flushed with embarrassed excitement.

  Opening the door with a bunch of bras draped over my arm, I sighed, grateful to be done.

  “Are these the ones you want?” The sales lady asked taking the pile from me.

  “Yes, there’s a bunch more in the dressing room.”

  She waved her hand. “You leave those; I’ll get them later. Now, the matching panties are over here. We have each style in several cuts. I’ll put these up front while you’re looking.”

  In the past I wore plain cotton underwear, but looking at the display, I found the ones that matched the bras I chose. Sticking to boy shorts and low cut briefs, I matched each bra. My pink cheeks weren’t going away anytime soon.

  “Those are so cute,” Anali said, pointing to the dark purple boy shorts with light purple polka dots. “You should change into a new bra so you don’t have to keep fiddling with yours the rest of the day.”

  “Here.” The sales lady popped up holding out a white lace bra with dark green leaves embroidered on the straps. “I’ve already cut off the tags. We also have some lovely nightgowns and pajamas if you’re interested. Can I take those?”

  “Oh, thanks.” Anali handed over a sheer nightgown and some lacy thing. I turned back to the dressing room to change, not interested in my aunt’s choice of lingerie.

  When I came out, I searched through the sheer gowns and little lace whatevers until I found some simple satin camisoles and shorts, and several sets of cotton tank tops and soft pajama bottoms.

  “All done?” The woman asked folding each piece into crinkling pink tissue paper.

  “Yes. Thank you for all your help.”

  “You’re most welcome, dearie.” She handed me two large shiny pink bags with the store’s name in metallic silver across both sides.

  Anali handed her a credit card as the sales woman told her the best way to wash her delicate things.

  “I’m going to wait outside.”

  Anali smiled at me and nodded.

  I stepped onto the street. The crisp air refreshed and cooled my poor cheeks. The sun had burnt off the fog. I looked down the ancient street lined with tall, red brick buildings with white trim. Their pointed spires reached for the sky. A small group of brownies slipped between two stones into a bakery while faeries danced along the evergreen wreaths and garlands hung on the store fronts. I thought about going over and saying hello when I felt someone staring at me. Turning, I saw a young man, who looked like a poster boy for England. He was at least six feet tall with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. A long scarf was knotted around his neck and hung down his chest. He glanced at the bag in my hands, gave me a cheeky grin, winked, and walked away.

  And I am blushing again.

  “Ready?” Anali asked, making me jump. “Lost in thought?” she giggled.

  “I’m ready.” I tucked the pink bags closest to me and placed others on the outside of them.

  “Are you getting tired or hungry?”

  My stomach was still full from breakfast. “I’m not hungry, but I could sit and get something to drink.”

  “Let’s keep walking. I’m sure we’ll find a tea shop.”

  “Sounds good.” We paused to look at the window displays which caught our eye, enjoying the holiday themes.

  “Sapphire,” Anali squealed. “Look at this. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  I walked over to the store front window and saw the smallest cable knit sweater ever. “It’s very cute.”

  Anali sighed. “I have to have it.”

  I followed her into the shop, feeling her emotions bouncing against my shields. Anali is normally calm, but right now longing, hope, happiness, and nervousness all bounced against me. What in the world was going on?

  “Oh, look they have a bunch.” Anali sorted through a rack of tiny sweaters, pulling out the tiniest cream-colored cable knit sweater.

  “Is someone expecting a baby?” I thought her youngest nephew was two, and the family lived in tropical India. They wouldn’t need such a thick sweater.

  She held the sweater against her belly. “No, but it’s so sweet I can’t pass it up.”

  “We have some other things for a wee bairn,” the man behind the counter said. “Everything is hand knitted by the good women of Scotland.”

  I looked through the sweaters while Anali cooed, yes cooed, over the baby stuff. I picked a white cable knit sweater and one of green cashmere that was the softest thing I had ever touched. Looking at the price tags, I flinched. I started to put them back, but they were so beautiful.

  “Look,” Anali said dangling a pair of knitted baby booties in front of me. “Oh, those sweaters are gorgeous.”

  “They are, and expensive.”

  “Oh pish, don’t worry about it today. You’re here to have fun.” Anali smiled. “I’m going to get one, too. Will you hold these while I look?”

  “Sure,” I said, taking the booties, two baby sweaters, several hats, and a blanket.

  “This one,” Anali held up a pale blue cabled cardigan sweater. “Let me pay, and then we’ll go get something to drink.”

  I blinked at the whirlwind of emotions coming from Anali and followed. Should I say something? No. She knows I’m empathetic. If she wanted to tell me what was going on, she would.

  We found a café a block away. Pine boughs and glossy springs of holly decorated the selection of cakes and pastries displayed in the front window.

  “What would you like?” Anali asked as she set down her bags, tucking them under the wooden cafe table.

  I looked at the handwritten chalkboard menu. “A chai latte please.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Anali hummed to herself as she went to stand in line.

  I watched as a woman handed a hot chocolate to a little girl, who I thought looked like she might be her daughter. The girl grinned, and her mom brushed a stray curl from her daughter’s cheek with a soft smile.

  Anali set down two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies. “Here we are.”

  “Thanks.” My fingers wrapped around the mug, soaking in the w
armth.

  Anali smiled and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear.

  My stomach fluttered.

  Chapter Two

  “Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else.” ~ Judy Garland

  “Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else.” ~ Judy Garland

  Anali and I stumbled into the hotel, tripping over bags and giggling. The doorman followed in behind us, carrying even more bags.

  “I’m glad to see you two have been having fun,” Gavin said.

  “Gavin, honey, when did you get here?” Anali dropped her bags and rushed into his arms. His irritation faded as he buried his face into her neck.

  Using my feet I pushed the bags out of the walkway so they wouldn’t get in the way. The doorman set the others next to us and signaled for a bellhop.

  “We thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.” Anali pulled back, smiling up at her husband.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “Apparently I was too anxious, and Michael threatened to drug me if I bounced one more time.” Gavin pushed up onto the balls of his feet.

  “Well, I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been ages since the three of us went out. Help us with our bags and give Sapphire and me a chance to rest and then we’ll go get some dinner.”

  “The bellhop will take care of them. Do I have any money left?”

  “Don’t worry, dear. Once you’ve seen what I’ve bought, you won’t care how much I’ve spent.” Anali smiled and walked to the elevator.

  Gavin cleared his throat and gathered up as many bags as possible, while he supervised the loading of the rest of the bags onto the bellhop’s cart. “How are you feeling, Sapphire?”

  “Good. I had a lot of fun today.”

  Gavin lifted up the bags and reached into his pocket for a tip. “It sure looks like it.”

  * * *

  I sat back and soaked in the warmth of the centuries-old pub. I ran my finger over the dark wood table, smoothed from thousands of people sitting here and running their hands over the same space. Wisps of sadness, despair, and anger seeped through the warm blanket of friendship and happiness.

  Gavin’s face scrunched into a frown as he chewed. “Okay, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  Anali giggled. “Gavin, a month ago we left Mexico. Why in the world would you order nachos and guacamole?”

  “I had to know. The salsa is okay, maybe if I dump it on everything.”

  “Hey, what if I don’t what want salsa on mine?” I said. We had decided to order several items and share them.

  “Trust me,” Gavin said dumping salsa and pickled jalapeno peppers on the nachos.

  I shook my head and took a bite of fried fish. It was salty, crunchy, and greasy—three of the four basic food groups. I splashed some of the malt vinegar on a piece. My lips puckered, but I liked the contrast. “This is great, and I like the mushy peas.”

  Anali took a bit of the vegetarian fried fish, which was made from spiced, battered and fried halloumi cheese. “This is delicious,” she said, dipping it into a curry sauce.

  Gavin pulled the vegetable pie to him, giving up on the nachos. He hummed at the first bite and hunched over the plate as if he didn’t want to share. So, of course, I stole a bite. Oh, yes, yummy. So far I was liking London a lot.

  “Good evening folks,” said a young woman with a thick Scottish brogue. Her short kilt swayed around her thighs. “We’re the Water Nymphs and we’ll be playin’ for you tonight. Hope you enjoy it.”

  I watched as the others took the stage. I felt a low hum of magical energy around them. The other woman held a violin, which she plugged into an amp. Her kilt was cut in the same style but made from a different plaid. Three men joined them on stage, all wearing kilts of different plaids with tee shirts. One plugged in a guitar, another sat at the drum kit. The third sat near the edge of the stage and cradled a polished cello between his legs. His kilt slid, up showing a muscular thigh. I squinted—was there a bit of tattoo showing under the hem?

  Deep haunting notes from the cello echoed through the pub. I shivered as they hit me. His head bent, and his long dark curls fell over the cello and his milk-white arms.

  “I do love the cello,” Anali sighed.

  Gavin arched an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” He grabbed a French fry, or chip, and dipped it in the ketchup.

  “Oh, honey,” Anali said patting his hand. “He is so pretty.”

  I snorted while Gavin placed a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe your love for me is so fickle.”

  “You’ll just have to try and win my affection back.” Anali’s brown eyes glittered with amusement.

  Gavin grinned and held out his hand palm up. “Will you dance with me?”

  “Always.” Anali placed her hand in Gavin’s and followed him to the dance floor. He led her to the side furthest from the sexy cellist.

  I smiled watching them dance with their eyes focused on each other. As they danced closer, I looked away. Adults can be so embarrassing. I watched the band. It was a joyous mix of rock and Celtic sounds. Relaxing back into the chair I began slow, deep, five-count breathing with my eyes focused on the band. Inhale to the count of five, hold to the count of five, exhale to the count of five, hold to the count of five. As I did the meditative breathing, I gently opened up my empathy.

  There—something wild and hungry was woven into the song. The singer swayed, making eye contact with the crowd. She was definitely magical. I didn’t feel any desire to harm, yet I felt a desire—no, a need— to connect. The violinist danced, also intent on making eye contact with people. The audience lost themselves to the joyous music, giving adoration and desire freely. Watching the women, I saw them breathe deeply and felt their energy rise. They were feeding off the crowd, sipping from the energy they radiated.

  I focused on the men. The guitarist and drummer seemed lost in the music, and I felt their happiness but they didn’t seem to be feeding on the crowd. Turning, I saw the cellist staring at me. Somehow he knew what I was doing. I blushed but didn’t look away. Dark stubble covered his square jaw, full lips quirked into a smile under a crooked Roman nose. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes under his thick dark brows, but I felt the humor in them. Winking at me, he looked away smiling, at a woman leaning against the stage.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I released the meditation and strengthened my protective bubble that kept other people’s emotions from overwhelming me. I wasn’t sure what kind of magical beings they were. They might even be part human as the strength of their energy was softer than normal. Either that or they hid their nature well. Whatever they were doing, it didn’t seem harmful.

  Anali and Gavin stumbled back to the table. I opened my mouth to tell them about the band being magical, but they both seemed so happy. If I told them, then Gavin would get all tense and paranoid. “Having fun?” I asked instead.

  “Yes, and you?” Anali answered.

  “I am. The music is great.”

  “They have CDs for sale. I’ll get us some to remember our first night in London,” Gavin said, hopping up.

  Anali placed her hand on my arm. “If you start getting tired let us know.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, then yawned.

  Anali rolled her eyes. “Come on let’s go.”

  * * *

  Twisting my mom’s ring on my finger, I looked at the door leading to Gavin and Anali’s suite. I was ready for breakfast, but neither of them had come to wake me up yet. I assumed they were getting ready. But what if they weren’t getting ready? What if they were busy? They had been all sweet and cuddly last night.

  I looked at my ring. Dark blue sparkled like a piece of the evening sky, set in silver. The ring had been a gift from the Phoenix King Shamash over four thousand years ago to one of his children or grandchildren, no one knew. The set of copper, silver, and gold bangles I wore with magical creatures carved into them were also an ancient
gift. As was the pendent which looked like someone had poured liquid gems of purple, green, and blue for the heart of the flame surrounded by flames of red, orange, and yellow. And while they connected me to Akasha, the dimension where Shamash and Aya, my many times great grandparents lived, they couldn’t help me figure out if it was safe to knock on the door.

  I decided not to risk embarrassment and headed for the elevator.

  “Little Sister.”

  Smiling, I looked up. Kayin stood by the elevators looking regal, as always. My black and red hair makes me look like a wanna-be rock star, but Kayin’s tight black curls looked studded with rubies. Add in his ebony skin, wide flat nose, large deep eyes, and tall lean muscular body, and he looks like royalty. I ran and leapt at him. “Big Brother, I missed you. When did you get in?”

  He hugged me tight, and any tension left over melted away. Kayin had been helping me figure out my life since I had met him a year ago at the San Francisco Center for the Circus Arts. Newly changed with unknown and unwanted powers rushing through me made life difficult until I met Kayin. He made me feel safe.

  “We got in an hour ago.” Kayin’s deep rich voice with its Zimbabwean accent rumbled through me. “I just got settled and was heading down to get some breakfast.”

  I let go of him as the elevator dinged. We stepped aside and said hello to a group of circus performers who got off. “How was the show?” I asked.

  “It was good. You and Anali were missed. Are you okay now? You look better.”

  “Much better, thanks.” We walked towards to restaurant and saw a sign saying Cirque du Feu Magique—Blue Banquet Room.

  We walked down the hall as indicated and found Anali and Gavin speaking to the manager.

  “I don’t understand why we have been separated,” Gavin said. “This wasn’t requested.”

  “I understand sir, and please be assured this will not be charged to your account. I felt as performers you and your guest would prefer to be left alone during meals.” The manager’s posh accent and overly polite tone sounded nice, but I felt his anxiety and irritation. “I do hope I haven’t overstepped my bounds, sir. I had hoped to insure not only your privacy but allow you and your guests to dress as informally for meals as you like.”