The Concealed (The Lakewood Series Book 1)

by Sarah Kleck

  “Drink this, then you’ll feel better.”

  I smelled the astringent liquid and scrunched my nose. “What is this?” Did I really want to know?

  “Spirit of Melissa. According to my grandmother’s secret recipe. It’s good for the circulation.” Ruth smiled. “My grandmother swore by it, and she lived to ninety-eight! Cheers,” she toasted and held up her little glass so I could clink mine against it.

  “Cheers.” I closed my eyes, held my breath, and drank. My throat burned, my voice failed, and I fought for air but . . . Ruth was right. As soon as the spirit’s warmth spread in my stomach, my circulation stabilized, and I felt how my organs were again supplied with sufficient blood.

  “Better?” she asked.

  “Better!” I said and tried to concentrate. “So, you believe Jared is a descendant of . . . Merlin? Merlin the Magician?” I asked when I’d overcome the first shock.

  “Yes,” Ruth said, full of conviction.

  I swallowed. “And you also think . . . I mean . . . You believe in . . . magic?” I somehow felt like a little girl asking her mother about the Easter bunny.

  Ruth smiled. “Think about what your friend Sally told you today.”

  “She spoke of a . . . golden light and feeling immediately better after Jared had been with her,” I said while my thoughts raced.

  “And did Jared’s friend not speak of a gift?”

  I nodded numbly. Could this be true? Was there really such a thing as . . . sorcery? Was Jared a—I barely dared to even think the word—magician? Did he have abilities that went beyond those of a normal human? Sally, in any case, seemed to be convinced of it. She was certain of having seen this golden light and having felt its warmth. A golden light emanating from him. Didn’t Sally see a light when I held Jared’s hand at the party? Didn’t she even say everybody looked at us because of this strange light? I’d been so captivated by Jared’s look that I never noticed, but . . . what had happened in Berry’s? On that evening when I’d played pool with Colin, Sally, and Felix. At the very moment when our eyes met, the lights started to flicker before they suddenly went off and Jared disappeared again. The flickering . . . Didn’t the light in the little Asian restaurant also flicker? When Felix had provoked Jared? And what about my first day, at the exact moment when I saw Jared the very first time? I remembered how I’d wondered about the lighting in the lecture hall. And when he saved me from Felix—the entire room had shaken and the light flickered wildly . . .

  Could that have been . . . magic?

  Sally’s healing, the flickering, the quake . . . ?

  “Do you believe in magic?” I asked Ruth again.

  “Without a single doubt,” she said with a firm voice.

  CHAPTER 13

  Warm water flows, comforting my bare skin.

  Although I do not yet need to breathe, I swim to the surface and slowly emerge. I’m in the midst of a blue-green lake in a forest clearing overgrown with wildflowers. The water’s surface fractures the sunlight into a thousand tiny diamonds. I close my eyes, breathe in deeply, and absorb the sun’s warmth. Pure joy floods through me.

  “Nimue,” someone whispers in the distance. I open my eyes and see Jared standing on the pebble shore of the forest lake, surrounded by glowing golden rays. So bright they almost blind me. He looks at me with a tender gaze.

  I beckon him to me, letting him know he should come into the water. But he only smiles at me, shakes his head, turns, and disappears among the trees.

  “Don’t go!” I heard someone call, woke up, and noticed to my surprise that it was my own voice yelling out. I sat upright in my bed and attempted to hold a clear thought. The dream was still in my head, and I had difficulties getting rid of the confused images that seemed so real to me. I spent several minutes sorting my memories. What had really happened? Had I only dreamed it?

  I’d been at Ruth’s—that much was real. I remembered the delicious lasagna. But I especially remembered our conversation. We had talked about Jared—that had also happened. Suddenly, I heard Ruth’s voice in my head: He is the one the Order is trying to protect. He is Legatum Merlini—Merlin’s Legacy!

  Was that possible? I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Was Jared really a descendant of Merlin the Magician? I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples in a circular motion. The thought had made so much sense when I had talked about it deep into the night with Ruth. In fact, it seemed the only logical explanation for what I had recently experienced and observed. But now that I sat at home on my bed—in my favorite checkered pajamas—everything suddenly appeared in a different light.

  I looked around the room. There were several open books on top of a half-finished assignment on my desk, and a pile of stuffy clothes had accumulated in my laundry suitcase. Everything around me appeared so . . . normal, so routine. To be honest, I’d expected something else after last night. Some change. But everything appeared as it had always been.

  I hesitantly got up and went into the bathroom, where I hung my pajamas on the towel rack and stepped into the narrow shower. I just stood there for several minutes, let the warm water splash on me, and attempted to relax. As always, the flowing water helped. While my head gradually cleared, a suspicion increasingly arose in me that all of this was rather ridiculous, and I’d just gotten sucked into the whole business. Sorcery. I shook my head. Wasn’t it totally childish to believe in something like magic? Now that I was back to reality, it caused me obvious difficulties. In the meantime, I felt outright embarrassed to have considered something so absurd.

  And yet, there was something deep inside me that could not simply let go of the thought. It would explain so much—even if in a completely crazy way. No matter how I looked at it, there was only one way of finding out the truth.

  I made my decision while drying off. I had to talk to Jared. Right now. The digital alarm clock on my nightstand showed 6:40. I hastily dried my hair, dressed, and left.

  The first weak rays of the sun began to brighten a gradually sprouting spring landscape as I followed the narrow footpath at the back of the main building on the Christ Church campus. When I arrived at the small duck pond, I stopped by the mighty oak and looked for a darkly dressed runner.

  Jared didn’t make me wait long. Only a few minutes later I heard quick footsteps coming toward me. I waited for the right moment, stepped out onto the small path, and blocked his way.

  “Evelyn,” he called out startled and stopped only inches away from me.

  “I have to talk to you, Jared,” I said, trying to sound as resolute as possible. I didn’t want to show under any circumstance that the mere sight of him unsettled me.

  He looked at me with his deep blue eyes. “I wouldn’t know what about,” he said with studied casualness.

  I immediately felt a stinging in my chest—I was unprepared for Jared’s rejecting tone. He strained to narrow his eyes and swallowed with difficulty.

  “I have to get going.” His voice had an unbearably final tone. He ran past me without another word and was already a dozen feet away before I’d overcome my rejection, let alone been able to react to it. No! If he didn’t talk to me now, he never would. I had to stop him. At any cost.

  “I know about Legatum Merlini!” I shouted after him. He stopped immediately—virtually frozen on the spot. “And I know what your family has to do with it,” I added in desperation, fearing my first revelation wouldn’t suffice to make Jared stay. It worked. He slowly turned and came back to me.

  Then I heard steps—the other runners couldn’t be far away. I didn’t have much time. Jared, too, hadn’t missed that we’d have company any moment. He clenched his teeth with a snort.

  “We’ll meet here—in exactly an hour,” he said and sounded almost angry.

  I nodded eagerly. “Okay.” My relief was obvious. Jared had consented to meet me. He would talk with me. I would finally get answers! I could have le
aped in the air for joy. But since I thought it better not to let Jared’s friends see me I disappeared behind the huge oak to wait until they had passed.

  “Right here. In an hour,” he repeated and ran off. A few seconds later the other runners passed by.

  That was close.

  The next hour was probably the longest of my life. I impatiently walked up and down the footpath, cast a glance at my watch, stood still for a moment, and then started the whole routine over again. Finally, after a torturous eternity, I saw him. Jared came from the same direction as he had an hour ago. Instead of running clothes, he was wearing sneakers, loosely fitting, dark-blue jeans and a black, hooded soft-shell jacket that suited him incredibly well. He looked so good that I briefly forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. My hands became clammy. What should I start with? Should I ask him something? Or wait for what he had to say? Would he even say anything?

  “Hi,” I said when he finally stood before me.

  “Hi,” he said and narrowed his eyes. I felt stumped. Why did Jared appear so hostile? But then he breathed in deeper, and his expression became softer. “You’re really stubborn,” he said after a short pause and betrayed a hint of a smile. When I saw the friendlier look on his face, I regained courage.

  “Why are you avoiding me?” I asked, surprising myself with my demanding tone.

  “Because . . .” Suddenly a sad expression appeared on his face. “I must,” he said, tormented.

  “Because you must?” I repeated. “Who says that?” Instead of giving me an answer, Jared averted his eyes. I felt a lump in my throat. “Karen Mayflower?” I guessed, almost certain I’d hit the mark. “I thought so . . . She kicked me out of her lecture,” I said angrily. Then I cautiously took a step toward him. He looked at me, questioning and pained. I halted, breathed deeply, and went another step toward him.

  “Evelyn, please,” Jared said. “We shouldn’t talk to each other.”

  “We don’t just need to talk to each other,” I said, surprised by my words, and took another step forward so we were right next to each other. My entire body began to tingle when I lifted my hand and firmly closed it around his. A veritable firework went off in my stomach. The memory of our kiss ignited inside me, almost making me float on air. It felt unbelievable to be so close to Jared. I moved even closer to him and deeply inhaled his intoxicating scent. I would have preferred to close my eyes then and give myself fully to him. However, something else was more important at that moment. I was here to get answers, and for that, I had to be in full possession of my wits. I reluctantly let go of his hand and took a step back. He stood there and looked at me as if under a spell.

  He was hardly breathing.

  “Please, Jared,” I said, “I have to talk to you.”

  He nodded, first hesitantly, then more assertively. “Okay,” he finally said and sighed. “Let’s take a walk,” he suggested and indicated a small wood that adjoined the campus. I joined him, and while we were walking side by side, I feverishly thought about how to begin. Should I tell him about my talk with Ruth? About the book? Or about . . . my feelings for him?

  “How do you know about the Order?” Jared asked, suddenly breaking our silence.

  “From a friend.” As long as I didn’t know what this Legatum Merlini Order was about, I had to be careful. The last thing I wanted was to get Ruth into trouble.

  “A friend?” he repeated skeptically, raising his eyebrows. In the meantime, we’d arrived at the edge of the small wood and entered under the protective conifer ceiling that shielded us from the growing drizzle. Jared followed a narrow, hardly recognizable path that wound through the thicket. Nothing could be heard. No street noises, no chatting students. Only the sounds of our footsteps on the moist forest floor. As soon as we were submerged in the thicket, a comfortable feeling spread inside me. Here, under the shelter of the trees, I was alone with Jared. Just the two of us—no one else to bother or watch us. The thought was truly uplifting. I gathered my courage again, took Jared by the arm, and forced him to stop and turn toward me.

  “Are you a descendant of Merlin the Magician?” I asked.

  Jared froze. He had not expected this. His eyes widened, aghast. At first, I would have preferred to take back the question, but then I managed to resist this impulse and looked at Jared insistently. “You can trust me, Jared,” I said with a soft voice, took a step closer, and held his hand again. He stared at me helplessly for a few seconds, but then he contorted his face into a pained expression. He looked at our hands. He appeared in turmoil, as if a battle were raging inside him. I would not let go.

  Then—after an endless moment—he finally looked at me. His face was gentle and vulnerable.

  “Yes,” he said.

  I gasped. So it was true! What had appeared completely ridiculous, even absurd, this morning in the familiar surroundings of my room, had suddenly become true. Jared was a descendant of the great magician Merlin, whom I had only thought of as a myth, a figure of legend, until just now. Ruth was right!

  “Everything all right?” Jared looked at me, concerned.

  “Yes, everything is all right,” I said. “It’s just different hearing it from you.”

  He smiled weakly. “I can imagine.”

  Jared’s confession left me shocked. Still, I was tremendously glad for it. He was willing to open up to me, to tell me the truth. I could not risk having him change his mind—I had to keep our conversation moving, ask him more questions. I’d have time later to think over the answers.

  “And do you have any . . . special . . . abilities?” I cautiously asked. I deliberately avoided words such as magic and sorcery. Should my assumption that, like his famous ancestor, Jared himself had magical abilities be wrong, I’d make myself a laughingstock in his eyes. If he didn’t have me committed right away. So, it was advisable to carefully steer the conversation in the right direction instead of coming out and asking if he was able to pull rabbits out of a hat.

  Jared breathed in deeply. “Yes,” he said, appearing almost liberated.

  I had no idea how much my face revealed, but for fear that I give too much away, I looked at the ground. Jared gave me a moment.

  What had I expected? I was finally getting the answers I had yearned for. And now I was surprised that my assumptions were true? To be sure, I would have preferred a normal explanation—but I had to take it as it was. And I was curious.

  “How did you find me?” I was now looking into Jared’s eyes. “In Felix’s room, I mean.”

  “Well, that has something to do with energy.”

  “Energy?”

  “Yes. I can . . . feel it.” He looked as if he feared having revealed too much.

  “How do you mean that?”

  He looked at me for a long moment, then breathed in deeply as something in his expression changed. His resistance crumbled and then it broke—the decision had been made: Jared had decided to trust me. He looked into my eyes and began to talk.

  “Every living creature, whether plant, animal, or human, is surrounded by energy,” he explained. “To be precise, every living creature consists of energy. Its own, individual energy pattern.” He looked at me as if to size me up. I nodded, urging him to continue. “Perhaps you can imagine it best as colors. Every living creature is surrounded by an aura, an energy field colored with very individual nuances.”

  I was enraptured by Jared’s unexpected burst of words and greedily soaked up each and every one. The more I found out, the better. I simply wanted to know everything about him.

  “Can you see this energy? The colors, I mean,” I asked.

  “I can always feel it. In some people I can also see it but only if I concentrate really hard,” Jared said, laughing gently. “Believe me, I know how crazy this sounds.” He shook his head.

  “No!” I wouldn’t have asked him to stop talking for anything in the world. “Then you fo
und me that way? Did you feel my energy?”

  “Yours and . . . his,” he said coldly.

  “How did you know I was in danger?”

  He walked slower and turned toward me. “The energy of a creature is variable. The base color is always the same but with different shades. Depending on its emotional state. So if a person is sad, there’s a dark shadow in their aura. If they are happy, the energy radiates, bright and shining. The better I know a person, the more I can differentiate these fine shades.” Jared closed his eyes. “I was able to clearly detect fear and desperation in your energy. And in Felix’s . . . ,” he said and snorted. “Let’s just say I could feel his intention.”

  I swallowed. “How does that work?” I asked as soon as I’d recovered my voice. “Is that possible from afar or do you have to be nearby?”

  “It’s all a matter of concentration. But I’d say I have to be at least in the same building.”

  “So you were at the party at his place?”

  “Yes, but only for a few minutes.”

  “Do you often go to parties?” Why was I asking such a stupid question?

  Jared briefly smiled. “No, not really. But . . . I’d hoped to see you there.”

  I had to resist throwing my arms around his neck. “I’d imagined it somewhat different,” he added as his face hardened.

  “I’m so glad you were there,” I said and looked at my hands. I hadn’t noticed we had stopped walking.

  “So am I,” he said, placed his finger under my chin, and gently lifted my face so he could see into my eyes. His look was tender.

  “Your energy is radiant green-blue,” he said. “Like a deep, clear mountain lake. Like . . . your eyes. Simply wonderfully beautiful!”

  I swallowed. “You can see my energy?” I asked, confused and embarrassed.