Spellweaver

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Spellweaver Page 7

by Tamara Grantham


  Mom opened the door. Despite her unusual phone message, she didn’t look any different. Her makeup had been neatly applied. She stood tall and beamed a radiant smile. Perhaps I’d been concerned over nothing. She let us inside and ushered us to the kitchen, exchanging pleasantries with Brent as we went. We ate lunch as usual, as if nothing had changed. Mom sat with her customary smile, her auburn hair long and stylish and her silk blouse and checkered skirt without a wrinkle. It wasn’t until we moved into her living room that I noticed something off.

  Under the sunbeams streaming through her cathedral windows, I noticed an elven statue sitting on her end table.

  I stopped as Mom and Brent sat on the couches.

  Mom raised an eyebrow. “Olive, wouldn’t you like to sit down?”

  I couldn’t move. My eyes were fixed on the statue.

  “Olive?” she repeated.

  “I… umm—yeah, I’m coming.” I sat between Brent and the figurine. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she’d gotten it as a gift or something.

  “Well, Olive, has Brent told you his news?”

  “News?” I asked.

  “Yes, Kasandra. Thanks for reminding me.” He cleared his throat. “Olive, I tried to tell you sooner, but you were gone.”

  “So what’s the news?”

  “I’ve started taking night classes. Officer training school. I’ve always wanted to be a cop, but I always found an excuse not to. You’ve inspired me, Olive. I realized that I would rather follow my dream than be tied to a job I didn’t really care for.”

  This came as a shock. Brent had landed one of the most sought-after jobs in Houston as one of its leading architects. Mom couldn’t be happy about this. She liked Brent because of his paycheck… right?

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Mom asked.

  Or maybe not.

  “Yeah, it’s great. I’m just a little surprised. I had no idea that you wanted to be a cop.”

  He took my hand in his. “I know I’ll be taking a pay cut. But since I’ve started taking classes, I’ve been really happy. Fulfilled, really.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. I saw it in his eyes. He’d always seemed a little stressed, a little distracted and unhappy. But now, his eyes held a twinkle that I’d never seen before. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe his new job would help him take our breakup a little easier. “I’m happy for you,” I said.

  He squeezed my hand. “Thanks.”

  The sunlight glinted off the elven statue, bringing my thoughts once again to the figurine’s presence. If it were a gift, why did it so closely resemble my father? Its long, dark hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of its neck, the dark blue robes it was wearing, and even the tiny spell book it carried reminded me of him.

  “When did you get this?” I asked Mom, trying to sound casual.

  “Isn’t it lovely? I bought it a week ago at one of those secondhand stores. You know, I don’t usually set foot in places like that, but that figure caught my eye. I spent a dollar on it.” She laughed. “It’s probably the cheapest decoration in this whole house. Heaven knows why I decided to place it right there.”

  So it wasn’t a gift. That was a bad sign. “May I look at it?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I gingerly picked up the statue. Although it was made of cheap ceramic, it had been painted with great detail. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it resembled my father. Uncannily so. “I didn’t know you were interested in stuff like this,” I said.

  “Silly, isn’t it? But since I got that little figurine, I’ve bought several more. I can’t seem to stop.” She let out a nervous laugh.

  I set the figurine aside to look at my mom. She hid her emotions well. Her physical appearance hadn’t changed—she wore her makeup with precision, her clothes were without a flaw or stain, even her smile looked genuine—so I wasn’t sure if she was experiencing symptoms of depression or not. Asking her was out of the question, but there was one other aspect I could look into.

  “May I see the other figurines?” I asked her.

  “Of course,” she said. “They’re in your father’s old office. Would you like me to show you?” She started to stand.

  “No.” I stopped her. “That’s all right. I’d rather look at them by myself if that’s okay.”

  She raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Sure, sweetheart. Just don’t rearrange them.”

  “I won’t.”

  Brent stayed with Mom as I made my way to Father’s office. Sunlight streamed over the hardwood floors, turning them a deep bronze. The smell of Mom’s gardenia candles scented the house, giving the place a calm, serene feeling, although I felt anything but calm.

  Mom’s new hobby had me worried.

  I entered the office through the arched doorway. Statuettes cluttered the long mahogany desk, the bookshelves, even the windowsill. Mom was downplaying it when she’d said she’d bought “several more.” My head spun as I looked from one statue to the next. They weren’t all elven. Some depicted dragons, sorcerers, fairies, a few trolls. Given Mom’s extended time in Faythander, her expansive collection made sense.

  Somehow, I’d thought this would never happen to her. When Mom had returned to Earth, the dragons had used their magic to not just erase her memories, but replace them as well. I’d felt certain that suffering from the side effects of memory loss wouldn’t affect her. But things had changed. The magic was fading, causing the dragons’ spell to weaken.

  I walked to Father’s desk and picked up a female elven statue. The woman wore pearl-white robes, and her corn-silk hair fell in waves down her back, reminding me of the elven princess Euralysia.

  If the dragons’ spell was fading, it was only a matter of time before the less appealing side effects started to harm my mother.

  But there was no way on this planet or the other that I could perform the spellcasting on her. She’d remember everything from Faythander. With a case like hers, remembering so many erased memories could easily put her into shock. She’d remember my dad; she’d remember the Caxon and how she’d joined them; she’d remember how she’d never wanted me; she’d remember vowing to kill me.

  My heart stopped.

  I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let my own mother remember how she’d tried to sacrifice me to Theht. I couldn’t let her remember that she’d never loved me. It was out of the question. My only hope was that she wouldn’t fall prey to depression. So far, she seemed fine. Maybe I was worrying for nothing.

  I browsed over a few more statuettes when something caught my eye on my father’s bookshelf.

  Mom had never rearranged the place. She’d kept it the same for as long as I could remember. Most of his books were Earth texts that my father might have read, although he’d never touched a single one. The dragons had placed each one to help with my mother’s false memories.

  A slim brown book sat between two American history texts. I’d never noticed it before. As I picked it up, I felt a slight hum of dragon magic pulsing through its pages. But why had I never noticed this book before? Had it suddenly appeared? Or had it been hidden by the magic?

  With the enchantments fading, the second option made more sense. I opened the book to find my father’s scrolling script written across the pages. A silver chain dangled from one of the pages, and I flipped to the page.

  A silver-leaf pendant, interwoven with delicate veins of glass and bronze, sat on the page. The faint aftereffects of elven magic surfaced from within the necklace as I ran my fingers over the jewelry.

  My eyes widened as I came to two conclusions. Although it would be of no use without the magic, this was a memory charm. And it belonged to my father.

  CHAPTER NINE

  My hands trembled as I held the memory charm. Father had told me about it once. He’d made the charm so he could cross worlds and buy Mom a proper wedding ring, but he’d never given it to her. He’d saved it and given it to me, instead, to be used as a magical talisman. I’d learned a new magic word from it, but
since then, the ring had collected dust on my bookshelf.

  But what was the memory charm doing here? It must’ve been here for years, concealed by magic. Did Father intend for Mom to have it?

  I looked from the charm to my father’s journal. Scanning the pages, I realized the journal recounted my mom and dad’s courtship. I stopped and read a passage.

  We have camped on the west side of the mountain to avoid the brunt of the blizzard. The elves, used to Faythander’s winter season, suffer from no ill effects. However, Kasandra’s weakened state has grown worse. I fear she will not last longer under these conditions. I have relinquished my own food rations to keep her strong. I cannot tell if she appreciates my offering. Is it only my imagination that she does?

  The winds died down just as midnight approached, leaving us to the merciless howls of the grimwelts. Their pack draws closer, and we will have no choice but to confront them soon.

  Kasandra admitted that she was not used to such bloodthirsty cries as she tried to sleep. I reminded her of my snoring.

  I closed the journal. Reading of their courtship was more painful than I’d expected. The words didn’t sound like my father’s. He’d never had a sense of humor, had he? I’d always supposed my parents must have been under some sort of evil goblin’s enchantment to fall for each other. But it seemed I’d been wrong.

  Under no circumstances could I let Mom see this. It seemed a heartless thing to do, but I tucked the book and the charm in my back pocket. Mom couldn’t afford to remember her past. From the living room, I heard Mom’s musical laughter, and I made my way back to the couches and sat down again by Brent.

  “What did you think of my knickknacks?” Mom asked with a laugh.

  “They’re nice, I guess. I’m just surprised at your sudden interest in collecting.”

  Mom raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s only a hobby. You know how lonely I get.”

  “I know. But you’ve always gone to the gym or the mall or baked something. I’m not sure why you changed. And when you said you collected a few, I didn’t realize you meant close to a hundred.”

  She stiffened. “I’m sure I’m not like one of your patients, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “No. Of course not.” I was lying. I prayed I was wrong. More than anything, I wanted to believe that Mom’s new obsession was only a hobby.

  Please let it be a hobby.

  Brent sat forward. “If it’s all right, I need to go soon. I’ve got classes tonight.”

  “Sure,” I said a little too quickly and stood before anyone else.

  We said our good-byes without any more mention of Mom’s collection, although that’s all I thought about. As I climbed into Brent’s car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mom’s new obsession must’ve been a result of the failing magic. That made me wonder other things. What else had the magic affected?

  Brent started the car as afternoon sunlight cast shadows over the mountainous homes as we made our way out of Mom’s neighborhood.

  I pulled out my phone and replayed the messages Doc Hill had sent me. If I didn’t find the magical bloom soon, my mom’s condition would worsen. My quest to find the Everblossom had taken on a whole new meaning.

  “Mind dropping me off at St. Luke’s?” I asked Brent.

  He raised an eyebrow. “The homeless shelter? This is about a client, I hope.”

  “Of course not. I’ve got a new home. Didn’t you know?”

  He cast me a sidelong glance. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  I sighed, thinking of my near-empty checking account. “It’s closer to the truth than you think,” I mumbled.

  “Olive, do you need money? I can give you some if—”

  “No, please don’t.” I hadn’t broken up with him yet. I’d fully intended to and hadn’t.

  Mom’s new hobby had distracted me from asking for financial aid, and now Brent was offering me money. I needed it, too. Darn it all. But under no circumstances could I accept his help. I’d drawn our relationship out for long enough.

  “If you need it, then let me help you. That’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

  Boyfriend. He had to use that word. I decided I couldn’t let this last any longer. I’d given my heart to Kull, and no matter how uncomfortable it made me, I couldn’t let this go on any longer.

  I worked up my courage as we merged onto I-45. “Brent, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Okay.” He kept his eyes focused on the road.

  “I can’t be your girlfriend anymore.” There. I said it.

  “What?” He laughed. “You’re not serious.”

  “Yeah. I am. I know this is horrible timing. I’m really sorry, but I just can’t—”

  “Is this about my new career?”

  “No, it has nothing to do with that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I—I just… I need some time alone.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he demanded. “After two years, you need some time alone?”

  “Brent, you know we’re not right for each other. We act more like roommates than a couple. We aren’t that close. You’ve got your life, and I’ve got mine. I really don’t see our relationship going anywhere.” I couldn’t make my heart stop pounding. I should’ve waited until I was out of his car, but now he held me hostage, demanding an explanation.

  “Yes, I agree,” he said. “That’s why I’m starting a new career. I didn’t mention it before, but I did it because I wanted to spend more time with you. I’m ready for us to take the next step and ready for a real life with a family. You can’t break it off. Not now. Just give me a chance.”

  A family? Why did he have to sound so sincere? Why couldn’t he scream and yell and act like a huge jerk so I wouldn’t feel so guilty? “Brent,” I said softly. “I can’t.”

  His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. “That’s what you really want?”

  I wanted to answer yes without hesitation, but my reasons for breaking it off seemed a thin excuse. I thought of Kull. Could he give me the life I wanted? Or would I be stuck in his huge castle as he went off to war or hunting or whatever it was that big, brutish men like him did in their spare time? Sure, he could provide for me. He was the Wult prince, and someday he would be king. But his title meant nothing if I would never see him. If I chose him, would I still be doomed to live a life of isolation? And I still couldn’t be sure he wanted me in that way. How did I know I wasn’t just a diversion for him? What if I got back to Faythander and he’d found someone else?

  But that was only part of the problem. What would happen to my life on Earth if I chose Kull? He couldn’t come with me. Anytime I wanted to return home, I’d have to leave him behind. And if we ever had kids, what would happen to them? Would they remember both worlds, like me? Or would I have to leave them behind, too?

  Kids? Great. I was way overthinking this.

  I hugged my arms around my stomach, feeling nausea heave through my insides as we crossed the causeway from the mainland to Galveston Island. Storm clouds gathered over the churning waters of the bay far below. The silhouettes of huge tanker ships loomed in the distance, blocks of black against the gray.

  “Why don’t you think about it first?” Brent said. “You don’t have to make your decision yet.”

  I remained silent as we exited the causeway and drove onto the island. Oak trees lined Broadway Boulevard, their barren branches swaying in the stiff sea breeze.

  St. Luke’s sat off the road and was isolated from the other buildings. It was a squat, beige-colored building with chipped paint and graffiti on one side. We drove over the cracked-asphalt parking lot and stopped at the front door, where a few homeless men gathered around the entry. Their rough, lean faces and soiled, tattered clothes spoke of the harsh lives they led, lives far worse than my own. It made me wonder why I’d been so wound up in the first place.

  Even with everything that seemed wrong in my life, I knew I still had so much to be
thankful for. I had a home. I had friends and family. I had fallen in love with a man who really cared for me. I couldn’t throw that away. Deep inside, I knew what I wanted. Despite fears of my future with Kull, I would regret not breaking it off now with Brent when I had the chance.

  “Brent.” I said his name softly. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “And?”

  “My answer is no.”

  His eyes widened. “I can’t believe you’re doing this now. After everything I’ve sacrificed.”

  I couldn’t help but realize that he was trying to guilt-trip me. Yes. I’d made the right decision. “You’ll find who you’re looking for, but it isn’t me.”

  He nodded. “You should probably go,” he said without looking at me.

  “Sure.” I left his car without another word. Maybe I should’ve felt awful. Instead, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. A few eyebrows rose as I walked past the homeless men with a giddy grin on my face. I’d done it. I’d chosen Kull. Now I just needed to fix this magic problem so I could get back to him.

  Entering the shelter, I found the front desk. A dusty-smelling Christmas garland lay atop the counter, and a nurse wearing reindeer scrubs stood behind it.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m looking for a John Doe.”

  I gave her the description, and she pointed me toward room fourteen. I thanked her and headed for the door, when she stopped me.

  “Just want you to be careful, sweetheart. We’ve had some trouble with him.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I found room fourteen and knocked on the door. A muffled “Come in” came from the room, and I opened the door.

  A dark-skinned man sat on a rocking chair near a window. Through the glass, low-lying clouds crowded out the sunlight, only allowing a faint gray glow to illuminate the room. The room’s only other furniture was a mattress sitting atop a rusted-metal bed frame and a saggy, particleboard desk in the corner. I crossed the linoleum-tiled floor to stand by the man.

 

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