The Sacrifice of Sunshine Girl

by Paige McKenzie

“But since then?”

  I think for a moment. “N-no. But that’s not unusual. She doesn’t appear to me regularly.”

  Victoria twists her hands in her lap. Her eyes swim with tears.

  “I haven’t seen her in such a long time. I miss her so much… more than you can possibly know.”

  I reach over and squeeze her arm. Victoria seems so fragile. For good reason. I try to imagine what it would be like if something happened to Mom or to me and we were separated forever. Just thinking about it makes me want to start sobbing uncontrollably.

  “I’m sure Anna is fine,” I say, which sounds so empty. And also really strange, considering that Anna is dead. Also, I’m not entirely sure Anna is fine. I’ve been anxious about the fact that she hasn’t crossed over yet. Why has she been lingering on Earth for so long? How long will it be before she morphs into a dark spirit? By all accounts she’s way overdue.

  Although… Victoria told me months ago that Anna hadn’t crossed over yet because she had some work to do on this plane.

  I remind her about this now.

  “Your father said that Anna would come to your rescue at a crucial time,” Victoria explains. “But she already did this… twice. And the thing is, I had a dream about her last night. She was… in trouble. Trapped. Someone’s prisoner.”

  “Whose prisoner? Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you remember any details from your dream?”

  Victoria shakes her head. “It was all very vague. Mostly just a feeling, like Anna was calling out to me, begging for my help. And I’m not sure if this was something that’s already happened or is happening right now or will happen at some point in the future. I feel so confused, so helpless. She’s my little girl!”

  Tears stream down her cheeks. I reach over and hug her.

  “I’ll find her,” I reassure her.

  “Would you please, dear? I would be so grateful.”

  “Of course. Anything for you.”

  We stay like this for a while, Victoria silently weeping against my shoulder. She was the first one to tell me—really tell me—what it meant to be a luiseach and to clue me in to the fact that Nolan was my protector. She brought me clarity and comfort at a time when I was struggling, lost in the dark, feeling like a delusional crazy person, probably much like Bastian felt before today.

  I owe Victoria so much.

  I will find her daughter for her.

  And after that I will convince Anna to move on.

  Easy-peasy.

  CHAPTER 23

  The New Luiseach in Town

  The whole way home from Victoria’s I try to summon Anna, like I did back in Llevar la Luz, but it doesn’t work. I’ve tried to summon her at other times and she didn’t appear, though, so maybe there’s nothing to worry about?

  Or maybe there is? Victoria did have that dream.

  When I walk through the front door an unexpected surprise awaits me—and not a pleasant surprise either, like pizza or Nolan or a balloon-o-gram.

  Helena’s standing in the living room.

  Not just Helena—there are five others I’ve never seen before. Three men, one woman, and a teenaged girl.

  The woman glares at me with a look of undisguised hatred.

  What in the heck is going on?

  “What are you doing in my house, Helena? Who are these people? Where is my mother?” I demand, suddenly scared.

  “I’m right here, sweetie.” Mom steps out of the kitchen doorway and into view. Her face is a mash-up of conflicting emotions as she rushes up to me. Worry. Relief. Fear. Bravado.

  She throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly. “They showed up a few minutes ago,” she whispers into my hair. “They said they needed to speak to you. I pretended to call you, but I called Aidan instead. I wasn’t sure it would be… safe for you to come home.”

  “Aidan’s here too?”

  “No, he’s out looking for you.”

  “So this is how she turned out,” the woman with Helena says coldly. “She doesn’t look very impressive.”

  I move away from Mom and lock eyes with the woman. “Excuse me?”

  One of the men—he has curly gray hair and a bushy beard—holds out his hand toward me and murmurs something under his breath. I feel a sharp pain in my solar plexus, as though someone just punched me, and then tiny electric zaps. And just as suddenly the pain and electric zaps vanish.

  “What was that?” I cry out. I touch my solar plexus, which feels fine now, back to normal.

  “She has your physical strength, Helena. And your stamina. Your empathy as well,” Mr. Bushy Beard says, ignoring me.

  Empathy? Helena? I would laugh if this whole scenario weren’t so bizarre. And creepy. I want Helena and these freaks to leave right this second. I don’t care if she gave me a magical mystery necklace. She can’t be trusted—not now, not ever.

  The front door opens and slams, and Aidan bursts into the living room.

  “Sunshine!” he says breathlessly. His gaze moves from me to Helena and the others. “I was trying to… your phone kept going straight to… but I see you’ve already met the council.”

  The council. Of course. The leaders, bosses, whatever, of the luiseach on the other side of the rift. The ones who are going to decide whether or not to eliminate me.

  How am I going to get out of this one? Maybe I should tell them about Bastian without mentioning his name? No, bad idea. Knowing them, they’d probably try to torture me for the information. Because that’s what we guardian angels do, ha ha.

  “We haven’t exchanged introductions yet, Aidan. This is Mikhail”—Helena indicates the bearded man who Jedi-zapped me—“and Xerxes and Giovanni.” Xerxes is short and bald and brown, and Giovanni has a blue buzz cut and a jagged scar on his face. “And this is Aura and her daughter, Zalea,” Helena adds, gesturing to the super-mean woman and the young girl.

  Aura. Why does she sound familiar? Has Aidan mentioned her before? And then I remember. Lucio told me about her in Mexico. Aura was Helena’s second-in-command years ago when they all lived at Llevar la Luz pre-rift. The one who originally came up with the idea to eliminate the infant me.

  That explains the super-mean.

  Her presence also stacks the odds against me staying alive.

  “Nice to see you again,” Aura says to me, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Zalea, the daughter, studies me with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. Mostly curiosity. She’s tall, reed thin, about my age. Short black hair, intelligent blue eyes. I wonder if her mother has been telling her bedtime stories about me since she was little? Once upon a time there lived an evil luiseach girl. As long as she roamed this Earth all the other luiseach were doomed to die. And so a brave band of luiseach warriors set out to find her and destroy her in order to save our kind…

  I raise my hand. “Okay, so… elephant in the room. You’re all here to tell me I must be eliminated for the greater good, right?”

  “Sunshine, that’s not funny. Aidan, do something!” Mom cries out.

  Helena regards Mom with a cold, detached expression. “There is nothing to be done. It’s already been settled.”

  Settled?

  Aidan steps quickly between me and the council members. “What do you mean, Helena? Settled how?” he asks, sounding way less confident and in charge than he usually does.

  Helena shrugs. “We’ve conferred, and it’s been decided that such an action wouldn’t be prudent at this time.”

  Aidan’s shoulders relax. I start to breathe again. Mom puts her arms around me, although it’s not a hug so much as a fierce, protective, if-you-harm-a-single-hair-on-my-daughter-you-will-be-toast hold.

  “If Aidan’s theory is correct—and we’re not saying that it is, not yet—but if it is, then La—… the girl’s death would be contrary to our purposes,” Helena goes on.

  Aidan glances sharply at her. “Helena!”

  “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it, dearest?” Helena s
ays irritably.

  “No, that’s not it. You just…” Aidan hesitates.

  “It was hardly a unanimous vote,” Aura speaks up.

  Thanks a bunch, Aura.

  Next to Aura, Zalea swoons slightly.

  “Mother!” Zalea grabs Aura’s arm. “I just had another vision.”

  Wait. Another luiseach with vision superpowers?

  “Yes, my pet? What did you see?” Aura gushes. She’s practically baby talking, which is the polar opposite of the executioner’s tone she seems to like to use with me.

  “The war. It will begin soon!” says Zalea.

  “How soon?” Aidan asks her.

  “Weeks. Maybe days. I saw much fire, many deaths.”

  “You saw that?” I say incredulously.

  Zalea nods. “Yes. He calls it the Day of Reckoning.”

  “Who does?”

  “Their master. The one called Dubu.”

  Silence.

  “With all due respect, I don’t think we should be making council decisions based on these so-called visions,” Xerxes says to Helena.

  “Duly noted. But we will be making council decisions based on all the information we have, visions included. In any case, this council needs to do much strategizing and preparing for what may be about to unfold. We also need to continue reaching out to the others, summoning them to Ridgemont. We need to raise an army—and quickly.”

  An army?

  I remember Bastian asking me about the number of luiseach left on this planet. “How many luiseach are we talking about? How many of us are there out there?” I ask Helena.

  “At last count we had around sixty thousand. Give or take,” she replies.

  “Wow. Okay, so where are they—”

  Helena raises a hand to cut me off. “We don’t have time for your superfluous questions. We’re not here to indulge your curiosity. We have serious work to do.”

  With that, she nods briskly at her council and heads for the door. Mikhail, Xerxes, Giovanni, and Aura follow—and Zalea too.

  “I’m going with you,” Aidan announces.

  Helena sighs. “Yes, yes, whatever.”

  “I’m going with you guys too,” I speak up.

  “No!” Aidan and Helena exclaim in unison.

  I startle. “Excuse me?”

  “This is a matter for the senior leadership. For the adults. Your job is to stay out of the way and not get yourself killed,” Helena informs me.

  “She’s right, Sunshine,” Aidan says. “We have a plan in place for you. The best thing for you would be to concentrate on protecting yourself. Lucio will be back from Mexico soon. And Helena and I will be just down the street.”

  “Just down the street where?” I ask, confused.

  “Did I not tell you? I have bought all the houses on your cul-de-sac. For security purposes,” Aidan says matter-of-factly.

  Bought all the houses on the cul-de-sac?

  Before I can ask any more questions, he and Helena walk out the door, conferring in hushed voices. The council and Zalea trail behind them.

  I suppose I should be relieved. The council has stayed my execution. I’ve been ordered to hang out on the sidelines and just keep my head down for a while.

  Which is exactly what the old Sunshine, the one who wanted to become un-luiseached, might have wanted.

  But no longer.

  How can I convince Helena and Aidan to let me help them—and fight with the luiseach army too? After all, it’s my job, my duty to help save the world.

  CHAPTER 24

  The Gemini Moon

  Later that night, while Mom and Ashley are asleep, I sneak out of the house in my PJs and fuzzy bunny slippers and head out into the night. Aidan mentioned he and Helena would be “just down the street,” so presumably within bodyguarding distance. He also mentioned he now owns every house on the cul-de-sac.

  Putting two and two together, they must be in one of these houses. But which one?

  I stop at the curb and glance up and down the street. The night air is cold, damp, and thick with the scent of pine needles and fresh spring soil. A silvery-white full moon hangs in the starless sky. Mrs. Hillman’s windows are dark, and her red SUV—the one that almost mowed me down—is gone. The two houses that flank hers are also dark; they’re occupied—I think—by a couple of young families. Were occupied, that is, before Aidan showed up with his never-ending bank account of mystery wealth. How much did he have to pay the neighbors to convince them to pack up and vacate their comfortable, familiar homes—and in less than a week?

  On my side of the street there’s the house next door that was occupied by a middle-aged guy with a truck. His truck is gone now, and his windows are dark too. The house on the other side of us, whose previous owner was a middle-aged woman with three very yippy dogs, is likewise dark.

  But in all the darkness there’s one house with a lit-up window. The brick house at the very end of the cul-de-sac.

  Moving quietly through the shadows, I proceed. As I walk I touch my throat to make sure the necklace is there. It is. For some reason it makes me feel safer, even though I’m not sure if it actually works or if Helena was just messing with me. I still don’t trust her, and I probably never will.

  Still, there’s something comforting about this necklace. Is it just a placebo effect, which, according to Mom, is when you give a patient a fake pill and say it’s a real pill and the patient gets better anyway because mind over body?

  After a few minutes I reach the brick house. A plaque hangs near the front doorbell; it has a picture of a beaming, dimply angel on it and the words BLESS OUR HOME! Ironic.

  I crouch behind an overgrown laurel bush and peer inside the lit-up window. Through the gauzy curtain I can see them sitting around a dining room table: Helena, Aidan, and the council. Helena is at the head of the table with Aidan opposite her. Xerxes and Mikhail sit on one side and super-mean Aura and blue-haired Giovanni on the other. I don’t see Aura’s daughter, Zalea, though.

  Books, maps, notebooks, and coffee mugs cover the table. The six of them seem to be arguing—I can hear the shrill crescendo of their voices, even though I can’t make out most of their words. Just a few here and there:

  Pentagram.

  The girl.

  Adis and Uiri.

  Dubu.

  Sons.

  Prague.

  Suddenly Aidan stands up, so abruptly that he knocks over his chair. Helena stands up too and stares him down with her cold, eagle gaze. Their postures radiate fury; they appear to be at some sort of ugly standoff.

  Footsteps. A branch snapping.

  I whirl around and see a tall, shadowy figure behind me.

  It’s Zalea. I immediately tense up, wondering if her mother sent her here to cast some evil luiseach spell on me—or worse.

  “Sunshine?”

  Her voice is light and friendly, so I relax a little.

  “Oh, hey Zalea.”

  “How serendipitous! I was collecting samples out back and had this sudden vision you were near me. And here you are!” Zalea flutters her hands in the air as though sprinkling fairy dust.

  I’m not sure how to respond to this. At least she doesn’t seem hostile or violent. The exact opposite, in fact. In any case, I gesture for her to follow me away from the window so the grown-ups won’t overhear us.

  We find a couple of Adirondack chairs in the side yard and sit down. A black iron grill divides us, crusty with the burnt vestiges of long-ago barbecues, and an old dog leash and a tennis ball lie in the grass at our feet—remnants of someone’s real life before the luiseach patrol showed up and took over the neighborhood.

  “So… what kind of samples?” is the best I can come up with for small talk. I push up my right coat sleeve and glance briefly at my wrist, which I find myself doing occasionally to make sure the spider-web mark hasn’t returned. Yay, it hasn’t.

  Zalea scoots her Adirondack chair so she’s closer to me. She digs into the pockets of her flannel robe, which she’
s wearing over an old-fashioned-looking white nightgown. Unfurling her hand, she reveals an assortment of small gray rocks.

  “These,” she says.

  “Why are you collecting rocks?” I ask curiously.

  “Rocks? They’re not just rocks!” Zalea selects one and holds it up. It catches the ambient light from inside the house and the full moon. “See the thin orangey stripe? That’s carnelian.” She picks up another one. “These white flecks are zeolites. These other samples have copper and chert and agate and jasper and coprolites.” She stops and grins. “Do you know what coprolites are?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Fossilized poop!” Zalea breaks into a peal of laughter.

  I laugh too. “So where did you find these, um, samples?”

  “In these humans’ yards.” Zalea waves her arm in a wide arc, indicating the now practically deserted cul-de-sac. “These samples will help me understand the soul of your city, its history.”

  “Really? That’s cool. I mean, I have no idea how that works, but it sounds cool.”

  “It is!”

  Zalea smiles and regards me with her large blue eyes. “You’re not at all like Mother said.”

  Aura, my number-one fan. “What did your mom say about me?”

  “She said you were very frightening and terrible. And very powerful too.”

  I chuckle drily. “So I’m not frightening or terrible or powerful?”

  “No! You’re definitely powerful. Extremely so. But you’re a kind person. You care about others—maybe too much sometimes.”

  “Are you basing this on the weird zappy magic trick that guy did to my—” I point to my solar plexus. “This area? And then he said I had a boatload of empathy, just like Helena? Who, by the way, is about as empathic as a killer Komodo dragon?”

  “No, I didn’t base this on Xerxes’s soul assessment of you. I can read your thoughts. Not all of them, but some.”

  “Excuse me, what?”

  Zalea folds her hands on her lap. “Okay. Your cat’s name is Lex Luthor because you like the Superman comic books, and your puppy dog’s name is Oscar because you like Hollywood movies. You like—no, you love a guy named Nolan. Nolan Foster. You spoke to him on the phone earlier tonight and told him about the council’s arrival here in Ridgemont. Oh, and you were thinking about him a few minutes ago too, about how much you miss kissing him. You can’t wait until your father lifts the spell so you and Nolan can make out all you want.”