What Gifts She Carried

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  “I just...” I pointed to the bathroom. “Girl stuff. Give me a minute.” With the door shut behind me, I tapped the talk button. “What did he say?”

  “He said all is well,” Tram’s voice teased my ear. I could hear his smile over the phone, and I briefly wondered if he’d ever used one before. He sure didn’t have one. “One and Two are still below my roots. Ms. Hansen has Herman’s spider killer aimed at them as we speak in case they decide to make a run for it on more than two legs. Ica is still in your tree.”

  “But you said other Sorceressi are coming. One of them could be a spider.”

  “That’s true,” he said, and his voice lost all traces of a smile. “The bite could be someone’s way of making sure she can’t ask for my help. With spider venom inside her, I won’t be able to—”

  “Feel her, I know.” I examined my own arms and legs once again just to be sure that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t feel me. The only things that bumped my skin were bruises, cuts, and welts.

  “Leigh.” Dad knocked on the bathroom door. “Get your stuff together and let’s go home.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. I have to go. ‘Bye.” I ended the call, stepped out, and gave a half-smile. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 5

  We stood on the edge of the driveway of the house, all of us surveying our yard. Lush green grass stretched across the lawn, and a light wind played with the leaves on the tree. The dipping sun tinged the sky purple and cast Mom’s lilacs in a delicate glow. I’d seen it all the night before, but daylight magnified its beauty times a thousand. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. Whoever had healed the yard from its nightmare status deserved a medal.

  “Your mom...” Dad said with a grimace and swallowed thickly. Tears traced his cheek and dripped into his blond stubble.

  I took his hand and squeezed. “She would’ve loved this.”

  Darby knelt and weaved her fingers through the tufts of grass. “We’ll keep it like this. We’ll take care of it for her. And we can take a picture of it and give it to her in heaven.” She looked up, blue eyes bright and shiny behind her glasses. “Okay?”

  Dad took a long breath, probably thinking the same thing I was. None of us had Mom’s tender touch or green thumb.

  “Pizza delivery sound good?” he asked.

  Darby spouted off all her desired toppings and skipped inside the garage. I supposed that was a yes.

  The house smelled musty, as though it hadn’t been lived in for a while. I hadn’t noticed it last night because I was still shocked to be alive. The bleached scent of Mom’s meticulous cleaning and her flowery perfume had faded days before, and it would never really smell like home again. I sighed at the heavy weight pinching my heart. Would her absence ever get any easier to handle?

  While Dad speed-dialed Pizza Shack and Darby settled herself on the couch, I dragged myself to my room and leaned against the doorway to examine the chaos pit of doom. Piles of clothes and books hid the carpet. All over my walls, punk girl bands scowled behind their piercings and spiked hair. In the corner, the neck of Mom’s blue Gibson guitar jutted out from under the dress I’d worn at her funeral. Why had I covered the guitar up? To bury her memory? To somehow make her loss hurt less? I should’ve known that would be impossible.

  I kicked a path through the clutter and threw the dress over my shoulder. No more burying things. Including me. Time to deal with life even if I was dead. Based on how bad my clothes smelled, I either put them on hangers or put them back on the floor in the maybe pile. Clean’s overrated, anyway.

  A flash of silver on my dresser caught the sun’s last rays. Callum’s ring. The one with lilacs all over it that he’d bought at Whaty-Whats and given to me the day after Mom’s funeral. I slipped the ring on my finger. It felt warm, just like Callum had when I’d hugged him to say thank you. Warm and comfortable and...

  I shook my head. Why was I thinking about Callum of all people when I should be focused on Darby? My thoughts lay scattered around my head in random piles. If only I could clean my brain the way I could pick up my room if I felt like it.

  A Before Merlin’s Beard movie blasted from the television in the living room. It ricocheted off the walls and hammered into my skull.

  “Darby,” I yelled as I stalked down the hallway with fists posted on my hips. “Turn that down.”

  “Huh?” She lay sprawled on the couch, peering over the pages of the same book at the television while Morgan le Fay screamed revenge at Merlin. “They got that part so wrong.” She rubbed at her spider bite while pointing at the screen. “Remember, Leigh?”

  “Stop scratching.” I lunged for the remote next to her, hit the power button, and threw it at her. The heavy plastic bounced off the back cushions and smacked her in the shoulder. “And stop messing around. You’re going to ruin your ears.”

  She turned a deadly glare toward me. With a slam of her book, she marched past. “I hate your face.” Her bedroom door banged shut behind her.

  That hurt, though I supposed I deserved it. Did I have to throw the remote at her? No, and I wasn’t really sure why I did.

  “Darby, quit slamming your door,” Dad warned, coming out of the bathroom. He pointed at Darby’s bedroom in front of him. “What just happened? I heard yelling.”

  “Apparently she hates my face,” I said.

  With a small smile, he came closer and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Even if she hates your face, I think you’re a keeper. And your face is pretty perfect, I think.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he swept some of the hair from my forehead. “Almost the mirror image of your mom.”

  “Do I remind you of her?”

  “In every way.”

  Questions about Mom rushed to my mouth so fast, my head spun. Did he know anything about what she really was? Did he know that she discovered Gretchen’s cult’s location just before she died?

  But the one question that seemed more important than any of that zipped past the others and fell out first. “Does it hurt that I remind you of her?”

  “I love you too much to be hurt by that.”

  The doorbell rang, and I smiled at Dad’s back as he went to answer it.

  Darby burst out of her room and strode past, chin held high, ignoring everything in my general direction, to press her nose to the cracks in the cardboard box Dad carried into the kitchen. The smell of fresh dough and melted cheese rumbled my stomach, but not in a good way. Once we set the table, Dad and Darby dove in.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Dad asked through a mouthful.

  I poked at a mushroom with my fork and bit into half of it.

  “Careful or you might actually swallow,” Dad said and frowned. “I thought you were hungry.”

  I gave a weak smile and gulped down a can of cherry-flavored carbonated dinner, the only kind of dinner that would help keep me awake for tonight’s training.

  Deep blues and pinks outside the window marked night’s fast approach. I would have to leave Dad and Darby alone tonight, which made me uncomfortable, but it couldn’t be helped. If I had to choose, I would rather have Darby like me again, or at least acknowledge my existence, before I had to go.

  “Hey, maybe we could take pictures of the yard after dinner. For Mom,” I said.

  Darby stopped turning her glass of ice water in circles and glared down at her placemat. “Are you going to throw the camera at me?”

  Dad reached for another slice. “Why would you ask that, Darby?”

  “I swear on my life I won’t throw anything at you,” I said.

  “Are you throwing things at your sister again?” Dad asked, his forehead creased.

  “The remote slipped out of my hand,” I said. “Promise.”

  A faint smile twitched over Darby’s mouth. “Would you swear on a new Bobby Fever bookmark?”

  In that moment, I knew I’d failed as a big sister. Bobby Fever wailed crap into a microphone and made it sound like musical ecstasy to preteen girls. Color me unimpressed.r />
  I slapped a hand over my eyes. “You’re killing me, woman.”

  Her laughter tickled the air. We were good again. Bobby Fever was useful for something, at least.

  Darby took her plate and glass to the sink then raced to the front door. “Last one outside has to kiss Bobby Fever.”

  I took one last swig of dinner and stood. “You heard her, Dad.”

  “You go ahead,” he said, wadding up his napkin. “I’ll clean up.” His gaze slid halfway across the table before he must’ve caught himself.

  “But...” I didn’t want him in here alone with Mom’s empty chair. Somehow, the thought of him alone was worse than any other thought ever. “But then you’ll be the last one out. Come with us. Please? Then we’ll help you clean up.”

  He closed the pizza box with great care. “I’ll put the pizza away and then I’ll be out.”

  “Okay.” If he moved that slow, he wouldn’t make it before it got too dark to see. I bent to kiss the silver that peppered his blond sideburn. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too. And no throwing the camera at your sister,” he said.

  But Darby had changed her mind. She stood just inside the screen door, her face the color of the carpet, her gaze locked on Mom’s lilacs. “I...oh...I can’t.” She turned to me, clutching her stomach, her eyes filled with sadness and something else. Guilt maybe? “Let’s go read instead.”

  My heart splintered. Maybe our yard coming back to life reminded her that Mom couldn’t, no matter how much she once wanted her to. Flowers that came back from the dead didn’t look as terrifying as people. It wasn’t fair that they could come back so normal-looking. I followed her into her room for some much needed Before Merlin’s Beard therapy.

  Dad joined us later and we were one big, miserable, little family as we listened to Darby pretend to be Megan, I mean Morgan le Fay.

  At bedtime, I tucked Darby in like a burrito. Another push of the sheets around her feet would probably cut off circulation.

  “I can’t even breathe,” Darby whined.

  “Breathing’s overrated.” Biggest lie ever, but I didn’t want her getting up for any reason while I was gone.

  She made a rasping sound so I would have to give in.

  “Okay, I’ll loosen the sheets a little,” I said and pulled along the length of the burrito to loosen the blankets a fraction. “Better?”

  “Mm-hm. Glasses.”

  I took the glasses from her face since her arms were bundled at her sides and set them folded on her nightstand.

  “Kiss.”

  I planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Anything else, madam?”

  She giggled. “Bobby Fever bookmark.”

  “I’ll have to sweet talk Dad for some money because I don’t have any.”

  “I want the one with the rainbow behind Bobby. Okay?”

  “I’m going to get you the one that says ‘Bobby Fever hates puppies.’ Where did this sudden fascination come from?”

  “Maria.” She pressed a grin to the spine of the fat book nestled by her cheek. “Her mom’s going to take her to a Bobby Fever concert because her dog died.”

  “Hmm, well, you’re banned from ever seeing Maria again.” I did a terrible job of hiding the smile on my face, but I couldn’t help it. “Good night, Darby. I’ll send in Dad.”

  I found him in the hallway, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Did you hear something?” he asked.

  “No,” I said and stared up at it, too, listening. “Did you?”

  “I’m not sure.” He ran a hand across his stubble and shook his head. Frown lines etched so deeply into his face, I wondered when he’d last smiled for more than a second. “This house is going to push me over the edge. First the spiders, then the yard, now...something in the attic?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.” The disbelieving note in my voice didn’t match what I’d just said, though.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Dad grasped my arms.

  My hands had twisted themselves into the bottom hem of my shirt, scratching more holes through the fabric.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows squishing together.

  Sleep deprivation and the horrors I’d seen had poked some seriously large holes in my brain, let alone my shirt. No, I wasn’t okay.

  “I’m fine. Just tired. Good night, Dad.”

  “Night.”

  His watchful gaze followed me into my room until I softly closed the door on him. I left the light off to give the illusion that I was headed straight to sleep. Instead, I sat below my window, propped The Sorceress’s Trinity on my knees, and started reading with just the glow of moonlight through the blinds.

  “What kind of arrangement do you mean?” Adeline asked.

  “One that will benefit the three of us—Sorceresses, Trammelers, and myself. When I am chasing after the dark ones,” the Counselor of Death said, his eyes gleaming at Adeline, “there is no one to rule the Core.”

  “I’m not a dark Sorceress. You can’t prove I’ve done any black magic,” Adeline said. In truth, it is said that she could wither humans from the inside out, hurl tornadoes from her fingertips, and dissolve her body into a flock of flesh-eating vultures.

  But the Counselor of Death did not care. He just wanted her all for himself, to be his Queen of the Core. “I will prove your darkness by trial, though I will not pursue you any longer.”

  Adeline was stunned. “You won’t?”

  “No. Do you accept?”

  “Yes,” Adeline said vehemently.

  “Good.” The Counselor of Death pointed at the Trammeler. “You will pursue her, you and every other Trammeler will hunt all the dark ones like her while I rule over the Core. Trammelers may use the powerful gifts of all the Trinity trees, not just your ash tree, at your will if you agree to this arrangement.”

  “But that isn’t what I just agreed to!” Adeline shouted.

  “Too late,” the Counselor of Death said with an evil smile.

  Adeline’s face grew red with anger. “It’s not fair. You changed the terms of our agreement.”

  “All of the Trinity trees?” the Trammeler asked in an awed voice.

  Already The Counselor of Death could see that the offer of all that power tempted him as he knew it would. Suddenly the Trammeler’s eyes shined with a desire that had nothing to do with Adeline.

  “All of them. But you must act like a warrior and you must never enjoy yourself around the company of any Sorceress you are seeking.” The Counselor of Death crept closer to the Trammeler until they were a breath apart. “For I will know with the ringing of a warning bell.”

  “I accept,” the Trammeler said and advanced on Adeline.

  She fled. But even as the Trammeler pursued her, he fell in love with the great beauty. From deep inside the Core, the Counselor of Death knew of the forbidden affair every time the warning bells rang. He sent some of his children from his last Queen on their spidery, thorny legs after Adeline to bite and shield her from the Trammeler’s affectionate pursuits, and then bring her to him.

  Adeline, however, had no intention of becoming Queen of the Core, for she wanted a happy, normal life with her Trammeler. He told her she could escape the Counselor through death and resurrection, but she did not have any Trammeler essence inside her blood. Desperate to hide from those chasing her, she forged a magical token to keep her Sorceress powers silent until she needed it again.

  Well, good for Adeline. The only tokens I had were battle wounds and a deep-seeded aversion to not being able to breathe.

  At the sound of rushing water across the hall, I pulled the blinds open and creaked open the window enough for me to climb out. Two more hours until training time.

  She bled out her true Sorceress essence onto the token. “It should say something,” Adeline said, “for me to chant while I hold it and then my powers will return to me.” After a pause, she said, “You set free my strongest gift.”

  Wait a minute. I’d heard that before. Y
ou set free my strongest gift. With...with... I blinked at my guitar in the corner of the room then lunged for its neck and my pick. Fingers settled over the right strings, I dragged the pick down in a quiet and horribly out of tune chord. But I kept playing, softly, so Dad wouldn’t hear.

  You set free my strongest gift. With each passing day, I’ll never forget. And neither can you, forever and ever. Always face the world, laugh at it fearlessly, and know you’ll always be my girrrl.

  The final note faded away, and I could almost hear Mom saying, “One more time for the guy in the white t-shirt because he likes it and he’s kind of cute.” Dad would wink and they’d share a look that weirded me out, but then we’d sing it again.

  Those weren’t just some goofy lyrics we’d written together; Mom was trying to tell me something. Just as she’d been trying to tell me things at her grave on little white cards. So did that mean I had something to hold my Sorceress powers for me so I could be normal, just like Adeline? If so, what was it? Because if I didn’t have my Sorceress powers, I sure needed them pronto.

  Okay, Mom. I sure hope you’re psychically plugged in to me everywhere and not just the graveyard. Whatever you have to tell me, I’m ready to listen. But...I guess that means I’ll have to come to you, or else this will be a one-sided conversation, huh?

  Dread gathered at the nape of my neck and threaded downward, taking beads of sweat with it. I didn’t have a choice, though. If I wanted to uncover the truth about myself, I would have to put my big girl underwear on and do it. In the daytime, of course. Never at night.

  Still, the thought shredded my fingers through the rest of my shirt. Everything underneath the empty eye sockets of the skull and crossbones lay in tatters. It must be the death symbol that my subconscious had issues with.

  I shook my head at the state of my brain and rested the guitar in my lap. One more hour until training time.

  My eyes burned, probably from night reading or sheer exhaustion or both. If I closed my eyes just for a second, it might help ease some of the itchy, wriggly feeling behind them.