Talisman

by S. E. Akers

  “That’s correct, dear,” Beatrix confirmed nonchalantly.

  I found her candor a bit strange. Tanner flat out told me that I was giving him one of my diamonds, but Beatrix seemed very blasé about it.

  “Bea, um…would you like one of my diamonds?” I probed delicately.

  Beatrix casually placed the remaining containers in the picnic basket, but by the time she had finished, her eyes were as dewy as a field of grass on an early spring morn. She reached over and patted my cheek. “I’d like that very much, dear. More than you’ll ever know.”

  Why didn’t she just say so, I thought as I smiled back at her.

  I repeated the magical process in the same manner I’d carved out the first diamond. For some reason I thought it wouldn’t hurt as bad this time around — but I was wrong — WAY WRONG! It hurt far, far worse!

  Beatrix isn’t the only one tearing up, I noted as I severed the rough diamond from my skin and yanked it out of my arm. Once I’d used one of my pant legs to clean the blood off the stone (if it stained, I figured it wouldn’t be that noticeable since it was “red”), I closed my eyes and gave the diamond a firm squeeze. As soon as I felt the warmth from the glowing light the stone was radiating, I infused it with all the same abilities I’d given Tanner’s — both the capability to boost another’s powers and all of my psychic skills. When the process was complete, I laid the stone in her hand.

  “What are your plans for this one? Another ring to put on your bare finger?”

  Beatrix shook her head. She lifted up the bottom of her shirt to reveal a small piercing in her navel, already fitted with a funky charm that held a tiny diamond.

  “I’ll remove the one that Adamas gave me years ago and replace it with yours. It’s fitting…I think. Since you’re the wand’s owner now. But I’ll keep his in a special place. Thank you, Shiloh.”

  Her sentiment overwhelmed me. I found myself clutching her tightly, but it wasn’t a typical hug. It was special — one usually reserved for mothers.

  “You’re welcome, Bea,” I said lovingly.

  Funny…I never would have figured her for a “belly ring”.

  After a good minute, Beatrix blotted her misty eyes and announced, “That’s enough of that. We still have more practicing ahead of us this afternoon, and I don’t want you thinking my tears will in any way sway me during our duel later… So let’s go.”

  We collected the wooden swords and got right to it. For the next several hours, Beatrix had me show her (on my own) the skills and techniques she’d taught me down in the cave. To her delight (and my surprise), I recalled all of her teachings without any difficulty and executed them to perfection.

  “Excellent, dear! You did marvelous today. Better than I could have ever expected.”

  Pleased by her praises, I tossed my sword onto the ground and plopped down on a low-lying rock. Though I had supernatural strength and endurance, I thought a quick break was in order.

  “Shiloh? What are you doing?” Beatrix questioned.

  Awkwardly, I inquired wide-eyed, “Taking a little break?”

  Beatrix threw me one of her disapproving looks. “Evil never rests, dear. Anyway, it’s time for our little duel. If you think you’re…up to it?” she added in a taunting tone.

  She hit the right button, I thought as I grabbed the sword and rose to my feet.

  We strolled over to the center of a grassy field near the old mill. With only a sword length between us, our duel commenced before I barely got my weapon drawn. She tried to knock it out of my hands, almost successfully. Beatrix struck her blows zealously as she moved around quick and guided — just like the wind. Every time I thought I had an advantage, it fell by the wayside. It wasn’t long into our swordfight that I realized how STUPID I was for assuming she would be easier to take than Tanner.

  I guess that laugh’s on me.

  There wasn’t one inch of the clearing we didn’t touch. We must have run across it, back and forth, a hundred times. Still confident, I carried on throughout the match, executing every one of the moves she had shown me to perfection.

  To Beatrix’s dismay, I managed to catch a lucky break. She stumbled slightly while she was trying to maneuver backward up a large cluster of rocks by the edge of the water. When Beatrix leaned down to adjust her footing, I went in for one swift and hopefully, final strike. Sadly, I missed. I should have learned by now that Beatrix Sutherland plays a little dirty. She had anticipated my move, so to counter it, she swiftly hurled herself backward and propelled her body through the air, where she landed on the bridge that connected to the old grain mill.

  “HEY!” I yelled crossly. “I thought you weren’t supposed to do any ‘crazy, acrobatic moves’ when you’re sword fighting?”

  “That only applies to you, dear,” Beatrix replied as she stood on the bridge, whisking her hair.

  Feeling artfully deceived, I looked down at the water that separated us. Beatrix, who was now waiting patiently on the bridge, stood there provoking me with a smug grin while she flourished her sword.

  What the heck, I thought as I jumped from the boulders and landed on a small platform attached to the side of the mill. I took a deep breath and hopped on the water wheel, balancing myself as I climbed its paddles. While the mist from the water rose around me, I assured myself, She’ll be the only one getting wet today…Not me!

  Once I’d reached the top of the wheel, I jumped down onto the bridge where Beatrix was waiting to pounce. Our fight continued on, neither of us willing to surrender. Just when I was about to lose hope that a clear victor would emerge, fate dealt Beatrix another unlucky blow or rather, one of the boards on the bridge did. Her right foot cracked one of the old wooden planks and dropped her down to her knees. I lunged towards her proudly with my play sword aimed at her throat.

  “So, Bea…Do you yield?” I asked, just to gloat.

  Beatrix lowered her head for a moment and then quickly raised it, revealing her third-eye (which made me jump — again). “NO,” she declared, now looking as proud as a peacock. With a swift wave of her hand, Beatrix summoned a blast of air that knocked my weapon right out of my grasp. My mouth dropped open, shocked by her unexpected and brazen maneuver. Beatrix sprang to her feet and dug the tip of her sword into my chest. I shook my head at her.

  “That’s dirty, Bea…Really dirty.”

  Beatrix cocked her head to the side. “Using your other powers while you’re sword fighting is an advantage. One you must use, every chance you get. It’s not dirty.” She grinned slyly and announced, “Now this is dirty,” right before she puckered her lips, and with one swift gust of air, blasted me off the bridge. Down I went, crashing into the shallow, chilly water below.

  “I think we’ll stop here for today,” Beatrix announced triumphantly.

  I retrieved my sword from a nearby cluster of river rocks as I rose from the water.

  “Why? Because I’m finally WET,” I griped as I wrung out my jacket.

  Beatrix looked down at her watch. “No, dear. Because it’s almost 4 o’clock. You getting wet was just a bonus,” she giggled. “You’d better run home now and get ready for this evening. Oh, and take the swords with you, so you can practice. And the picnic basket too, if you don’t mind. There’s a bottle of sea-salt & water in there. You can put some on your arm and clean up your wound. It should be healed by the time you get home. I think I’m going to take the scenic route back.”

  “Am I going somewhere?” I asked cluelessly as I trudged through the water and climbed up on the bank.

  “Oh,” Beatrix started to chuckle. “Yes. I meant to tell you first thing this morning, when you ran into the cave in such a huff. I apologize. You’re meeting Tanner this evening. He said to be at the Heritage Inn at five-thirty, sharp. Room 3…and he said for me to tell you, ‘No play clothes’.”

  I bent down to tie my shoelaces. “Do you know where we’re going?” I asked. Beatrix didn’t respond. “Bea?” I called out as I lifted my head. She was gone. I looked up
in the sky to see the majestic falcon flying off, soaring into the horizon. Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the Talisman tree. Beatrix was just as evasive as Tanner Grey.

  I retrieved the bottle of sea-salt & water and gave the wound on my arm a quick squirt. Once I’d gathered up everything, I headed home to get ready for my “mystery date”.

  I just hope I still have a home to go to, and that Beatrix is right about Charlotte not selling Shiloh Ridge. I still didn’t know how all the magic in the world could stop that from happening.

  I arrived at my gravel drive in about 30 minutes. Parked outside the house sat two additional cars. I knew the black Lincoln was Ace Barlow’s, a local attorney, but I didn’t have a clue as to whose sleek, white Maserati was parked alongside it. It had New York plates and looked rather expensive, which wasn’t a good sign.

  Surely they’re here because of the sale. At that moment, my only wish was, Please don’t let it be Lazarus in there!

  My car door was unlocked, so I threw the picnic basket, along with the wooden swords, in the backseat of my Charger. As I headed up the porch steps, I surmised that since they were here on “official” business, they would probably be sitting in the front of the house. Nervously, I peered through the living room window. No sign of them. I crept over to the other side. Definitely in the dining room. To my dismay, I couldn’t see exactly who was in the room. The sheers hanging over the window were obstructing my view. I could only make out outlines of bodies, but I knew there were four of them.

  As I crept inside the house, I heard several voices coming from the dining room. Thankfully, they hadn’t heard me. I had to make sure Lazarus wasn’t one of them, so I hung back by the front door. I instantly recognized three of them: Charlotte, Chloe, and Mr. Barlow’s. Just as I started to resort to listening in on the thoughts of the stranger, he spoke. I didn’t know who he was, but it sure wasn’t Lazarus Xcavare. I’d know his suave, uppity accent anywhere, and that guy wasn’t him.

  Anxiously, I walked to the doorway of the room. Charlotte and Chloe were seated on one side, while Mr. Ace Barlow and the stranger sat on the other. Charlotte was the first to spot me standing there. She shot me an icy glare.

  “We’re about to get started, Shiloh,” Charlotte announced, clearly perturbed by my interruption. She cringed at the sight of my soiled clothes. “UGH… What have you been doing? Go get cleaned up! This doesn’t concern you anyway.”

  Chloe was giggling under her breath. I tried one more last-ditch attempt to compel her not to sell the land. Over and over, I thought,

  Charlotte Wallace…

  You WILL NOT sell Shiloh Ridge

  today or ANY OTHER DAY…

  I found myself breathless as I waited for her response.

  Charlotte grunted. “What are you waiting for?” my mother snapped.

  My heart sank. Another failed attempt. I turned and stomped up the steps. How can this be happening? Beatrix was so sure she wouldn’t sell it!

  I could feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat as I headed into the bathroom. I turned on the hot water and began to undress. Extremely fidgety, I looked at my arm to find that my wound had already healed. I couldn’t even find any relief in that, not with what was transpiring downstairs. The mirror over the sink was starting to fog up. I wiped away the moist haze to stare at the hysterical girl standing before me and took a deep breath.

  Calm down! You have to calm down. It’s not like Lazarus will find out tonight.

  The color began to slowly come back to my cheeks with every controlled breath I took. As I gazed in the mirror, suddenly I noticed a flicker of sorts swirling within my eyes. I gave them a quick rub. Closely, I peered into the two pools of blue to spy a sparking white light swirling in them that seemed to be intensifying the longer I stared.

  “Awwww…SHIT!” I cried out as I gripped both sides of the pedestal sink. I wasn’t fortunate enough to have a “tiger’s-eye” to conceal this oddity like Tanner or Beatrix.

  Distraught, I thought, How in the Hell am I going to explain…THIS? What am I going to do! I started pacing wildly around the bathroom. Sunglasses…Sunglasses are good… Really, REALLY dark sunglasses!

  I hurried through my shower and flew into my bedroom to get ready. My only thought was, Tanner has to know what to do. He just has to! As I rummaged through my closet, it dawned on me that I didn’t have a clue as to where we were going or what I should wear. Beatrix had said “no play clothes”, so felt confident that meant something “a little nicer”. I grabbed a pair of khaki chinos and dressy, fitted blue shirt. That’ll have to do. After all, there wasn’t a place I could think of for miles around this redneck county that deemed a “dress code” as a necessity (well, other than No shirt, No shoes – No service, but that didn’t count). Since I was going to be with Tanner (aka – Professor Prozac), I didn’t see the need in bringing the little amethyst along, so I left it under the mattress of my bed (where I’d hidden it before I left the house this morning). However, I did check to make sure it was still under there. Yes…Safe & sound. I slipped on my brown leather flats, grabbed my purse, threw on my shades, and headed down the stairs. I landed on the bottom step, just as Mr. Barlow stepped into the foyer.

  “Good. You’re finished. Could you please come in here and join us, Shiloh,” Ace Barlow requested.

  Confused, I slowly followed the salt & pepper haired, lanky attorney into the dining room. Somehow the mood of the room had changed. Charlotte and Chloe were sitting in their seats, staring down at the cherry dining table, apparently sulking. Their current demeanor surely didn’t reflect the fact that they were about to become instant millionaires — quite the opposite.

  I wonder what’s up?

  Mr. Barlow pulled out the chair at the head of the table and motioned to me cordially. “Please take a seat, Shiloh,” he requested.

  I hesitated and thought, That’s Daddy’s spot. I felt a small twinge of sadness as I lowered myself into the armchair. Charlotte continued to stare blankly at the table. She may have been ignoring my presence, but my eyes were locked on her.

  Mr. Barlow began, “Shiloh, we have to take care of one minor detail…before we can sign off on the sale of the property.”

  “Well, let’s hope it’s minor, Mr. Barlow,” the stranger interjected gruffly.

  I looked curiously at the impeccably-dressed older man. He didn’t exude Lazarus’ sophistication, but he seemed highly educated, nonetheless. His hair was slicked back, and it had an unnatural, wet-look to it. The frameless glasses he was wearing didn’t flatter his face one bit. Neither did his dark, over-tanned leathery skin. Even his cologne had a harsh, spicy aroma that lingered like a heavy cloud. Clearly he’d used too much, but it was tolerable — somewhat.

  Greasy and sleazy, I thought silently.

  “Shiloh, this is Mr. Winston Holdbrooke. He handles all Xcavare’s financial transactions and legal matters.” Mr. Barlow winked at me and stressed in a juvenile tone, “He’s the one who brought the really big check.”

  Perplexed by the situation, I glanced at Charlotte. She hadn’t moved an inch and her expression still appeared “blank”. Chloe’s face was more telling. Now she looked worried.

  “Mr. Barlow, I’m confused. How does this concern me?” I asked. All parties in the room remained silent. I couldn’t even hear their daggone breaths.

  “Well, it’s really funny you should ask that,” Ace Barlow finally replied with a forced, fake laugh.

  Uncontrollably, Charlotte let out a sharp cry under her breath, like a dog would when it got its tail pinched, and swiftly put her hand up over her mouth.

  Mr. Barlow continued, “It seems Caiden left all the acreage on Shiloh Ridge to…you, Shiloh.”

  Flabbergasted, I shot straight up in my seat. “What?”

  Mr. Barlow flashed an uneasy smile. “Your father left the land to you. I didn’t think it would be an issue when I discovered it this morning as I was reviewing his will. Usually the surviving spouse has the authority
whenever a child is involved, and I knew Charlotte’s wishes. However upon checking, I learned that you just turned eighteen. Is that correct?”

  Intrigued by his question, I replied slowly, “Yes.”

  “Well then, you aren’t a minor,” Mr. Barlow concluded. “Your mother has no rights to the property. The sale can only be authorized by you.”

  I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. As the corners of my mouth drew up, all I could think was, Christmas sure came early this year. I stayed silent for a moment, just staring at Charlotte.

  “Shiloh, I need to review the contract with you,” Mr. Barlow insisted.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I answered flatly as I continued to eye Charlotte.

  “Shiloh, you really should let me go over the contract before I hand you this check,” Mr. Barlow urged.

  “May I see the check?” I asked.

  From out of the corner of my eye, I watched Mr. Holdbrooke pull something out of his briefcase. As soon as the stiff paper hit my hand, I held it up for a curious look. I slid my sunglasses down my nose, just a fuzz, and tilted my head. Sure enough, it was fifteen million dollars, made out to:

  Pay to the order of: Shiloh Charlotte Wallace

  I stared at the check and thought, Fifteen million dollars…This is going to hurt. I pushed my shades back up to their original spot and then swiftly tore through the paper in one swoop.

  Charlotte sprang out of her chair screaming, “Are you CRAZY!?! Chloe, get the DAMN TAPE!”

  “Sit down, Chloe,” I ordered and then turned to Mr. Holbrooke to announce, “I’m not selling.”

  Mr. Holdbrooke immediately countered calmly, “How about twenty-five million?”

  I was stunned, not by the amount, but by the apparent orders given to Mr. Holdbrooke fueled by Lazarus Xcavare’s desperation to seal the deal. I wondered, How high is that bastard willing to go? I decided to take a polite and civil approach.

  “Mr. Holdbrooke that’s a very generous offer, but you’re not listening to me. Shiloh Ridge is not for sale. Not today, or any other day. My father,” my voice began to crack, “…wouldn’t have wanted that,” I added confidently.