“Quinn—” Nia reached for him.
“Nah, its fine.” Quinn reached into his pocket and pulled out a black beanie hat. He pulled it on his head and grinned cheekily at Nia. “I’ve had much worse. Are you okay?”
Nia paused, taking in a deep breath. It didn’t hurt to breath anymore—she didn’t feel as sleepy as before either. The only pain she felt, which was dulling by the second, was the throbbing headache—the sole penalty of her gift. Even her eyes had ceased to burn. “I’m good.” Nia smiled, laughing a bit. “Actually, I—”
A flash of light shined through the lopsided blinds; a vehicle had pulled into the driveway behind Quinn’s van. Nia heard the gentle idle of the engine and the familiar slam of a car door. Heavy footsteps crunched across the gravel. Nia felt her stomach drop as her eyes opened wide with horror.
“I feel like we have a lot of explaining to do,” she hissed to her friends, eyes darting around the disaster area taking in every toll of damage. “What are we going to do?”
The kitchen door slammed open and Nia heard the sharp intake of breath her father made. Sam rounded the corner, his mouth agape, eyes crinkling in mild astonishment. Nia could see his lunch cooler trembling in his hands from where he stood, trying to make sense of the ruckus.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir!” Quinn half shouted, waving vigorously from where he stood; Nia had to force back a smile—now this was the Quinn she knew. Rowan gave a bashful wave. He was trying to keep his eyes adverted to the floor.
Sam’s eyes darted to Nia suspiciously. Nia bit her lower lip in an attempt not to grin again at Quinn’s cheerful approach.
“Hey Dad!” Nia twisted her wrists behind her back, wringing her fingers tightly in her hand. She chuckled nervously. “How was your day today?”
Chapter 7: The Rise of the Phoenix
Friday couldn't have come soon enough. Nia sighed, shaking her hands free of soapy dishwater.
Sam almost didn’t allow her to go to school on Wednesday; after the “robbery” the night before, he had wanted to keep her home—give her a rest after the stressful night. But Nia begged to go and come six-thirty the next morning, she had wished that she hadn’t begged so much. Her body felt thick and heavy like swamp sludge and her head felt as though it had been replaced with lead. But she rose anyway, determined to go—only so that she could sit down with the other Knights and discuss what had happened...
“How did you know what was happening?” Nia demanded, watching Quinn and Rowan from across the table with curious eyes. “How did you know I was being attacked?”
The boys exchanged a quick glance. “We heard you,” Rowan said simply. “You needed help—so we came.”
“You heard me?” Nia blinked, confused.
“You thought help,” Quinn explained slowly. “We all heard it—clear as day—as though you were standing right next to us. Rowan and I were the closest to aide you, so we turned back and heeded your request.”
“What’s most baffling to me,” Fiona said loftily, spreading butter across her English muffin, “is that you were attacked inside your home. On your personal property.”
“That’s never happened before?” Nia asked, looking around at each of them.
“We’re supposed to be protected on our own property,” Kenzie replied. She exchanged a sideways look with Thor. “No harm should ever come to us while we are in our own or each other’s houses.”
“But apparently we were wrong.” Thor shrugged.
“Obviously so.” Fiona placed her muffin onto the tray and folded her hands together, staring at Nia from across the table. Her eyes were silver fire, mesmerizing and hypnotic. “But I don’t understand why...”
Nia gasped as hot water poured from the sink and onto the floor. She quickly shut the faucet off and grabbed a dish rag, tossing it to the floor. She rubbed her foot across the tiles, mopping up the sudsy puddle. Why was I attacked? she wondered, staring absently at a chip in the faux brass handle of the cupboard.
The others had come up with plenty of theories: Axel wanted Nia on his side (Fiona), the minion was just stupid (Thor), Nia had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time (Quinn, Rowan and Kenzie) or Axel wanted Nia on his side (Fiona, yet again). But each theory—besides her own—had been nobly shot down by Fiona with a careless wave and an indignant snort.
“A minion is like a puppet,” she had said, rolling her eyes condescendingly. “Axel gives them an order and they do it. Axel is not an imbecile. And Nia was certainly not in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Her eyes didn’t even glace in Nia’s direction; they seemed to be focused on something else, far away. “Nia was in her home—her safe harbor. If anything, the minion was in the wrong place at the right time...He wants Nia for something...”
But what could he possibly want me for? She may have been psychically gifted just like his followers, but what did she have that the rest couldn't offer?
Nia finished washing the dishes and neatly placed them on the drying rack. She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. She was getting sleepy; it was a tiresome task, constantly keeping her Third Eye alert for anything out of the ordinary. She shuffled into the living room—which had been picked up quite a bit—and curled up onto the couch. Sam had been able to fix ol’ Bessie and a few pictures. The poor side table and old television had been ruined much to Sam’s dismay. Thankfully, the computer had been spared and the kitchen table along with the three of the four kitchen chairs could easily be fixed. Nia had spent most of the previous evening helping her dad tidy up, fixing and rearranging things. After her dad returned home from work that evening, they were going out to the appliance store to get a new microwave—apparently Sam couldn’t live without one.
A cop car drove by slowly then; Nia eyes rolled after it, wondering if her father had asked the police to drive by and check up on her periodically—she had already seen the car three times since she had woken up this morning...
Nia found her eyes fluttering open as the sound of a vehicle pulled into the driveway. She groaned quietly, speculating how long she had dozed off for, shifting awkwardly on the lumpy couch.
“Having a nice cat nap?” a voice asked cheerfully.
Nia jumped, flopping off of the couch like a floundering goldfish, completely unaware that there had been anyone peering in through the window. Placing a hand to her quivering heart, she set her eyes on a vaguely familiar smile. “Do you enjoy stalking people?”
Kenzie giggled. “I am not a stalker. I am a people watcher.”
“Hang on a sec.” Nia pushed herself off the floor and shuffled into the kitchen. Wiggling the sticky handle, she thrust open the door while Kenzie pranced up the cement block. “Where’s your mom going?” Nia wondered out loud, watching bemusedly as the old Cutlass began to back out of the drive way.
Kenzie slipped through the door, twisting the sleeves of her beige sweater tediously. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, waving past her shoulders, and her bangs framed her heart-shaped face. “She’ll be back soon—she's only going around the block.”
“Why just around the block?” Nia snapped the door shut behind her, suspiciously eyeing Kenzie over her shoulder.
“Because it gives me enough time to convince you to sleepover my house tonight.” Kenzie grinned sheepishly, folding her hands together. “Please say you’ll come?”
“Tonight?” Nia hesitated; the only house she had ever slept over had been her grandmother’s.
“Yup!” Kenzie pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose with her index finger. “We’re going to play games, watch movies and there is going to be tons of junk food.” Kenzie paused, pursing her lips in consideration. “Oo! And pizza!” She winked. “There is going to be lots and lots of pizza!”
“Hmm,” Nia hummed thoughtfully with a grin, twirling a lock of her hair through her fingers. “Pizza and junk food. Two of my favorite things.”
Kenzie laughed harmoniously—her laughter was one of the things
Nia liked best about her— “And don’t forget about games and movies!” she scolded, waggling her finger mockingly.
Nia smiled, reflectively scuffing the toe of her socked foot against the floor. “Who is going to be there?”
“Just the girls,” Kenzie said hurriedly. “Fiona and myself—the boys are going bowling.” Kenzie wrinkled her nose as if she had an itch.
“You let the boys sleep over too?”
“Sometimes.” Kenzie shrugged. “My mom locks them in the basement—we sleep upstairs in my room.”
“And your mom doesn't mind?”
"She finds the boys rather comical! But my dad can't find out—he wouldn't approve. Please say you’ll come?” she begged, tightly clasping her hands together as though she were praying for wealth and good fortune, her eyes pleading fiercely.
Nia shifted her weight from left to right, crossing her arms insecurely around her stomach. Maybe one night with friends would do some good—it certainly would give her someone to talk to. Kenzie seemed nice enough; her friendly face always put Nia in a good mood. It was Fiona’s contemptuous presence that she was worried about.
“I guess so...” Nia couldn’t help but lace her words with uncertainty.
“Excellent!” Kenzie clapped her hands together like an excited pixie, flouncing a bit where she stood. “Okay—do you know where Yvonne Street is?”
Nia’s blank stare pretty much summed it up. “I bet my father does.”
“Alright—if he doesn’t, he’ll know where Stuart's Market is—that’s by Dairy Queen. Berwick Street is pretty much adjacent to Stuart’s Market—” Kenzie spoke rather quickly, her excited motor mouth just idling away, while her hands flourished through the air twice as fast. Nia could feel her own brow furrowing with misunderstanding as she listened to the other girl ramble on about roads and side roads. “-and when you reach the top of the hill, there with be a cemetery on the left and my street will be on the right. Light blue Cape house, two stories, sixth house on the left, can’t miss it.”
Nia blinked; all she could remember from Kenzie’s speed drabble was something about a Stuart, a Dairy Market and a Queen Berwick Cemetery. Half afraid to ask for clearer directions (and half relieved that she remembered something from the previous conversation), Nia gave Kenzie a passive grin. “I’ll ask my Dad,” she said, patting Kenzie’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll know where Yvonne Street is.”
“Excellent!” Kenzie beamed brightly, just as her mother’s car rolled back into the driveway. “Be there at six, okay? Bring sleeping stuff—oh! What kind of pizza do you like? Or chips——?”
“Oh, I’ll eat whatever. Don’t worry about me,” Nia said, shaking her hands. She pushed opened the kitchen door and watched as Kenzie hopped down the steps, her ponytail bouncing lightly between her shoulders. As Kenzie sank into the seat beside her mother, she waved cheerfully.
Nia waved back, fighting the desperate urge to bite her lip in dismay; she was nervous—more nervous than she had been on her first day of school.
Nia picked up her cell phone as she rounded the corner to the living room. She dialed the number that had been conveniently pinned to the brand new corkboard that Sam had brought home the night before. Nia waited, listening to the ringtone. She dialed the extension and waited for a few more seconds. “Dad?” she asked quickly, clutching the phone with her hands. “Dad—it’s Nia. Yeah—everything is alright—but I was just wondering.... Do you know where Yvonne Street is?”
* * *
“This seems like a nice neighborhood,” Sam observed, looking at the white birch trees that had been planted just so alongside the various picket fences. Even the houses were comforting. The truck pulled up next to a light blue Cape house with a bronze number sixteen mounted by the front door.
“This it?” Sam asked, giving Nia a sideways look.
“I’m not sure of the number,” Nia admitted, indecisively glancing around the street. “I’m not even sure of where we are...”
Sam laughed. “I know where we are—not to worry.”
“Well, she did say a light blue two story Cape...and I believe that’s her mother’s car in the driveway.” Nia looked at her father with a carefree shrug. “I guess this must be it.”
“Alright then,” Sam nodded, putting the truck into park. He watched as Nia gathered her sleeping bag and pillow, helping her as she struggled to pull her knapsack up over her shoulder. “Have fun, kiddo. I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.”
“’Kay.” Nia practically rolled out of the car, arms full. She nudged the door shut with her foot and nodded to her father in parting. She heard the shift of the engine as he removed the truck from park, but he ceased to drive away.
Nia wobbled to the door and awkwardly reached up to give three sharp raps. She uneasily bit her lip, turning around just once to give her father a quirky grin. Sam waved from where he sat.
“I’ll be right there!” a voice called from inside. Nia could hear shuffling from inside as the speaker made their way closer to the door. Adjusting her grip on the sleeping bag, Nia looked up just as the door swung open.
A tired looking woman stood in the entryway, eyeing Nia curiously with wide brown eyes. Her brown hair was streaked with gray and she had twisted it into a messy knot on the back of her head. She smiled a wide smile, and in that moment, she looked just like Kenzie did—sunny and bright.
“You must be Kendra’s friend Nia,” the woman said, moving aside to allow Nia entry. She waved to Nia’s father just as he pulled away from the curb. “Please, come on in.”
Nia stepped up into the house and peered around. It was a quaint home with little knickknacks strewn throughout. The refrigerator was covered in tiny magnets from all over the world—each one holding up a picture of a little Kenzie and a small boy Nia did not know. Inside the living room was even more pictures—pictures of Kenzie with a toothless grin, riding on a carousel, Kenzie and that little boy from the fridge looking positively delighted at a birthday party.... There was a china cabinet next to a forest green divan in the corner that was filled with porcelain dolls and china tea sets. And over by the television were rows upon rows of movies waiting to be watched.
“You have a very lovely home, Mrs. Battistelli,” Nia complemented politely.
“Thank you Nia—and please,” she patted Nia’s arm lightly, “call me Helen.”
Helen poked her head up the stairs. “Kendra!” she called, tapping the banister with the tips of her thin fingers. “Nia’s here!”
A loud thump sounded from upstairs, followed by the creak of door hinges. Footfalls bounded down the stairs, some two at a time, and Kenzie’s head popped into view. She was dressed comfortably, sporting a gray tee-shirt and black sweat pants, her long hair now sprawled past her shoulders.
“Hello!” Kenzie waved, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re upstairs—don’t be shy!” Kenzie reached forward and grabbed the sleeping bag from Nia’s arms. She arched her foot just above the step before pausing briefly to gaze at her mother. “Fi and I would like a cheese pizza.” Kenzie’s eyes found Nia’s. “What kind of pizza would you like?”
“Cheese is fine with me.” Nia smiled gratefully.
Helen smiled at Nia before looking back at her daughter. “Did you ask your brother what kind of pizza he wants?”
Kenzie—to Nia’s surprise—rolled her eyes. “He said he didn’t care. He always wants the same thing anyway.”
“Pepperoni it is then!” Helen stroked Kenzie’s hair with a look of complete adoration. Nia felt her heart pang a bit at the sudden longing for her own mother.
Nia followed Kenzie up the stairs, shuffling through the pink carpet while mildly looking at the blur of pictures that lined the stairwell as she passed. At the top of the stairs, the small hallway forked; there was a door to the left and a door to the right with a bathroom placed conveniently in between them. Hanging on the wall to the right of the bathroom was a picture.
It was an older picture—in it, was a young Ken
zie, grinning a toothy wide smile that lit up her entire face. She had her thin arm wrapped around a tiny boy who looked to be about a few years younger than she had been. He was smiling too, his Charlie Brown cheeks sweet and rosy. A man was standing behind them, embracing them tightly. He was handsome—olive skin, dark hair...his eyes were the exact shade of blue as Kenzie’s. The people in the picture looked happy enough to the outside world, but Nia could see an unwelcome darkness hidden within the shadow of the man’s eyes—it caused a shiver to tingle down Nia’s spine.
“Hey—I’ll be just a minute.” Kenzie placed the sleeping bag on the floor and gestured to the door on the left. “You can go right in—Fiona’s in there.”
Nia had to fight the urge to wrinkle her nose. Instead, she gave Kenzie a reserved smile as she disappeared into the bathroom.
Nia sighed, her eyes gluing themselves back to the family portrait. She absently shuddered again and hesitantly looked away. The door to the right was open half way. Curiously, Nia inched towards it like a sleuthing cat. Sitting alone in his room was a boy who looked only a couple years younger the she was. Laid out before him was a simple deck of cards. The boy carefully looked up and caught Nia’s wondering gaze. His bangs tumbled lazily into his youthful face but they didn’t hide the unhappiness that Nia felt washing away from him like fallen leaves tumbling through the wind. Nia offered him a friendly, yet sympathetic smile, but the boy’s look of chagrin intensified.
From inside the bathroom, the toilet flushed. Nia could hear the faucet rattle as water poured from the spout.
“What’s your name?” the boy asked softly, his voice flat and apathetic.
“Nia.”
The boy reached out and flipped over a card. The Queen of Clubs. He shook his head, shifting some of the fallen hair from his boyish face. “This is you,” he stated, laying the card on his left. He reached out and flipped over another card. The Ace of Hearts. “Love is in the air.” The boy was whispering so quietly, Nia had to crouch forward to listen. His hazel eyes cautiously looked up into Nia’s face. Tediously he pushed the cards towards Nia. “Pick one and flip it over.” Nia quietly reached out and flipped over a card somewhere in the middle, her eyes never leaving the boy’s soft face. The Four of Clubs. He raised his face, staring at Nia square in the eye. “Be careful; you have to think before you leap. A storm is coming.”
The Mystical Knights: The Sword of Dreams Page 7