Ocean's Fire

by Stacey Tucker

  “Silverwood,” Skylar said.

  Rachel nodded. “It was a transformative time for both of us. She was finally free of a nightmarish home life, and I was sent there because I was . . . pregnant.” Rachel rubbed her hands together. As she spoke, her protective coat began to dissolve. Skylar could see a swirl of iridescent color circling her body, like gasoline on pavement.

  “We confided in each other about everything. No one in the whole world knew me better,” Rachel said. “Silverwood was a healing place for most of the students there. I was not the only pregnant teen. It was so common, they had an on-site doula.” Rachel cast the slightest glance at Ocean.

  “Why the secrets? All this time?” Skylar had tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe the secrets from all of you.” She looked at the three adults, caught like kids stealing from the corner store.

  “There were other things happening at the time, and it was dangerous. So dangerous,” Rachel said, rocking slightly in her seat. She reached out her trembling hands as if holding a circular object between them. She kept alternating her hands, swirling them around an invisible globe. And then Skylar saw it. An orb of light appeared between Rachel’s hands. It shared the feeling of her heart light, but it glowed white, not green.

  “Oh my God,” Skylar whispered.

  “I did the one thing no mother should ever have to do,” Rachel said. The sphere grew brighter, and Rachel held it over her belly. The swirling orb took on a life of its own, suspended in air. In it appeared a fetus—moving, growing, thriving within the protection of the white light. They all watched in amazement as the fetus grew before their eyes.

  “I had to. Her life was in danger. I had to,” she kept saying over and over until her words dissolved into sobs. Her tears fell upon the white sphere, and it disintegrated into nothingness. The air in the room crackled with the electricity she had just created.

  Everyone was silent. The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator. “You gave her up,” Skylar finished, still staring at Rachel’s abdomen.

  “Yes,” Rachel said.

  “Why?” Skylar asked.

  Rachel glanced at Ocean—again for just a moment, but Skylar saw it. She also saw Rachel’s aura fully as her protective coat fell away completely. It was a swirling pool of intense dark blue. She had never seen a blue aura before.

  She steeled herself and turned to Ocean, sucking in her breath over her teeth. “All this time, you knew Rachel and let me guess . . . my mother, too?”

  “Yes,” Ocean said, no trace of apology in her voice.

  Skylar’s eyes stung with tears of betrayal. Her whole life was unraveling.

  “It was the best way we knew to protect you,” Rachel whispered. “I was never sure it was the right thing to do. I’m surprised we made it this far.” She looked Skylar in the eye.

  “Protect . . . me?” Skylar asked. Her eyes darted around the room. Joel was sweating profusely in the hot kitchen, still wearing his wool sweater. Rachel’s physical body seemed like a shell. Skylar hadn’t noticed how much weight she had lost until now. But her blue aura was strong and steadfast. It revealed a fierce inner strength Skylar had never believed her stepmother was capable of.

  “Skylar, one doesn’t exist on this planet as long as I have without two things: a sense of humor and a boatload of secrets,” Ocean said. “You are naive to think I would tell you all of them at once. You already know about Ronnie and Milicent. Soon after, Cassandra arrived, and Rachel. They trickled in within days of each other. I was expecting them and recognized them immediately, even before I saw their marks.”

  “What marks?” Skylar asked.

  Ocean looked at Rachel. Rachel took a paper towel and some rubbing alcohol from a cupboard. She rubbed the back of her hand, revealing a tattoo.

  Skylar couldn’t believe it. She stared at the familiar circle of three intertwined birds on Rachel’s skin.

  “The mark of the Great Mothers,” Ocean said, waving her hand over her own shoulder, revealing the same tattoo. “Beatrice, Cassandra’s maternal grandmother, and Vivienne, Rachel’s paternal grandmother, all share it, as do our kin.”

  “So from that genealogy chart, you are . . . Ronnie’s grandmother?” Skylar asked incredulously.

  “In this lifetime, yes,” Ocean said, as if this made perfect sense. “The Great Mothers can have physical offspring, and we have throughout time. It’s just not an easy task. Our first descendants never handle all this”—she waved a vague hand in the air—“very well. It takes a generation to . . . work out the kinks, you could say. It’s a high price to pay. But we can only restore balance to the world through our kin—through the human race. So we keep trying, hoping this time it works. But we keep bumping up against human will. It foils us every time.”

  Skylar stared at the floor, letting it all sink in. “But Beatrice adopted my mother.” She wrapped her arms around her waist to prevent from vomiting.

  “Yes, but she was also your mother’s grandmother,” Ocean said. “She admits she didn’t do the best job protecting Cassie—or you, for that matter. She got caught up in the mess of love with your grandfather, and when he died she fell apart. She aged a century in ten years. Can’t blame her, really. She always was the weakest link among us, being Air and all.”

  Joel handed Skylar a glass of water. She drank it all at once and sat down across from Rachel at the island.

  “Everything Beatrice told you about Cassie’s family was true, except the woman who was Cassie’s biological mother was in fact Beatrice’s daughter. Anne wanted nothing to do with our world and didn’t want Cassie in it, either. She turned to alcohol to drown her dysfunction and did nothing to stop her second husband’s lechery. But Beatrice succeeded in getting Cassie to Silverwood despite Anne’s protests. Ronnie’s mother has a similar story. It’s a common pattern in those that choose to stay blind. I knew to expect it, but it was still devastating. I was powerless to help my own daughter.”

  For the first time, Ocean appeared remorseful for her role in the pain inflicted on so many. “You know, Milicent’s father’s life ended tragically. After that, her mother left, never to return. Rachel’s mother has been struggling with schizophrenia for decades. The fallout for spouses can be worse.”

  “And the tattoo?” Skylar asked.

  “As our bodies change over millennia, the mark remains,” Ocean said.

  “So why do I only have henna?”

  “Your mother,” Ocean rolled her eyes. “She didn’t want to scar you. Had she done it when you were an infant, you wouldn’t have remembered a thing, like a circumcision. But no, she had you reapply that blasted ink over and over and over. I’m shocked you still do it. Although, as I pointed out earlier, you’ve let it wear off.”

  “So?”

  “So, it leaves you exposed.”

  Skylar touched her collarbone. “Exposed to what?”

  “Our kin. We can be a vicious bunch when we disagree,” Ocean said with a smirk.

  Joel spoke for the first time in over an hour. “How about we break for some food? I could go get Chinese, what do you say? I think Skylar has had all she can handle.”

  The three women stared at him, not moving.

  “Rachel,” Skylar said, staring at the floor. “What happened to your baby?”

  Rachel stared intently at Skylar until she met her eyes.

  “In all our years together, you’ve never looked me in the eye,” Skylar said in amazement.

  “Because you would have known,” Rachel whispered, remaining steadfast in her stare. The veil between them shattered into a million pieces, and Skylar froze as a trickle of understanding dripped into her heart. She knew that it would take a while for her brain to catch up—if it ever could.

  This was the last straw. Skylar backed away and bolted for the door.

  “Wait!” Rachel cried out as Skylar ran out toward the barn, but she was done listening. Too many things were swirling in her head to make any sense.

  Inside the barn, Sky
lar leaned her forehead against a warm barn board. The silence burned in her ears. She turned her back to the wall and slid to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. She closed her eyes for a moment to breathe in the nutty scent she had clung to for happiness since she was a little girl. The smell of horsehair failed to soothe her. She straightened out her legs and sat in the aisle with her eyes closed, breathing from her belly. It took longer than usual, but eventually, as the air filled her lungs, she felt lighter, a bit less troubled.

  Skylar wasn’t sure how much time passed before Joel came looking for her.

  “Pumpkin?”

  “Not now, Dad,” she said, keeping her back to her father.

  “I know this is the biggest mess anyone has ever created in the history of the world,” he said. “I’m sorry for my part in it.”

  “Are you really my father?” Skylar asked. “Tell me now.”

  “That part is true. Rachel and I were stupid teenagers. You know how that goes.”

  Skylar couldn’t picture her father being irresponsible at any age, even as a teen.

  “I wasn’t there when you were born, I’m sorry to say. I was at basic training. I had just turned eighteen and enlisted in the National Guard. I figured if I was going to be a father, I needed an income. The military was the safest bet for me at the time.”

  “Did you ever love either of them?”

  “Cassie truly captured my heart,” he said. “I was back from boot camp and you were almost a year old. I thought she was amazing to take on the enormous responsibility of raising you by herself. She was the most extraordinary woman I had ever met. Rachel understood; she wasn’t in love with me either. She gave us her blessing. We married partly to give you a stable life, but we were also very much in love.”

  Skylar shook her head in disbelief. “This is crazy.”

  “But then Cassie started in with her whole mystical side, and our belief systems split in two very different directions. It tore our marriage apart, I’m sorry to say.” He rubbed the tension in his forehead. “Rachel has always tried to hide from that side of herself. I see now how detrimental that was . . . for everyone. But marrying her gave you a whole family unit once again, even if you didn’t know it.”

  “I still don’t get it.” Skylar picked up a piece of straw and bent it. “Why did all of this have to happen?”

  “For two decades, I never understood either, not able to win an argument with either of your mothers.” His mouth quirked up at the corners. “Until I saw your blood under that microscope the first time. Your inherent DNA strand is a triple helix. You have recessive genes that make you resistant to death, possibly immune to it altogether. Ocean explained that Rachel has those same genes, as does everyone in her paternal line, but that line ends with you. She has no brothers or sisters.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Rachel said. She was standing in the aisle holding a small white box, looking shaky. Ocean stood behind her.

  “That night, in the thunderstorm, all those years ago,” she said, her breath jagged. “I went to their door. I wanted to see him.” She started to tremble uncontrollably. Joel ran to her side. “I didn’t mean to upset them all; Milicent said it was my fault. I’m sorry Diana died.” She collapsed into Joel’s arms. The small box dropped from her hands and tumbled to the ground near the aisle wall. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in Skylar’s direction.

  “I’m taking her inside,” Joel said, his faced creased with stress. “I’m sorry too, pumpkin.” He scooped Rachel up and carried her slowly out of the barn.

  Ocean walked toward Skylar, and a light breeze rose at their feet. A familiar mist filled their eyes, and when it cleared, they were standing at the front door of a large white colonial-style house, lit up to greet evening guests. Skylar could feel the raindrops on her shoulders, and she inhaled deeply. The cold air was a relief from the stifling April heat.

  A young Rachel knocked on the red door. An older woman answered. Skylar could see them talking but couldn’t hear the conversation. An older man—the husband, Skylar guessed—came to the door. There was distress between the couple. Two teenaged girls stood behind them, a few years apart in age. The older girl was shielding her sister and yelling at their father. Suddenly, she ran out the door and sped away in a small car. The younger sister rushed to Rachel in the doorway and recognized the circle of birds on her hand. Rachel panicked and ran off into the rain.

  Soon after, a police car pulled in the driveway. The couple met the officer at the door. They spoke briefly, and then the wife dropped to her feet and sobbed.

  Diana was dead.

  The mist faded, and the evening’s sweltering heat hit Skylar like an open oven.

  “In Rachel’s desperate attempt to contact a father she never knew, she exposed his past adultery to his family,” Ocean explained. “Instead of directing her anger at Jonathan, Milicent blamed Rachel for all of it—her sister’s death, her parents’ divorce, and her father’s ultimate suicide. Their grandmother, Vivienne, had told me what to expect. Instead of grieving, Milicent was bent on revenge. She wanted to take away everything Rachel loved, as she had done to her. So I trained Rachel. She quickly became proficient in concealment, but while she could hide her pregnancy, she couldn’t hide a baby. And without the mark, the newborn—you—would be vulnerable to anything Milicent dreamed up. Rachel couldn’t take the chance with your life.” Ocean sighed. “You know the story from there.”

  “Please go,” Skylar said. “I can’t take any more.”

  “Skylar, you must realize that you are the combination of all four of those women. One birthed you, one raised you, one shares your lineage, and one watched her daughter’s heart light rise into your body. In the history of mankind, and my kind, this perfect storm has never before existed.” With that, Ocean left Skylar alone in the barn.

  Skylar sank to the floor. All of her intuition escaped her. Everything that had happened in the past year had come to pass through the machinations of others. She was a pawn in someone else’s game, no matter how important Ocean made her seem. She lay in the dirt, listening to the horses rustling in their stalls, unsure where she was supposed to go.

  She remained on the barn floor for hours, watching the day fade into night. A bright beam from the moon shone through the aisle, finding Skylar’s face like a searchlight. Then the moonlight faded, and Argan stood in its place. He was gorgeous, and much larger than Skylar remembered. She stared at his beautiful face as he lifted her off the barn floor. She put her arms around his body and felt a curve of silk protrude from his back. His wings spread wide, and he bounded into the sky. He soared toward the setting sun, and Skylar’s pain washed away. Then he glided under the rising moon, and she felt her energy become replenished.

  Finally, Argan soared back down to Joel’s house, where he laid Skylar down gently on her bed and kissed her forehead.

  “The maiden does her own rescuing,” Skylar said sleepily.

  Argan smiled, walked toward the window, and faded into the moonlight.

  Skylar woke up the next morning thinking of Argan. Was it a dream? It must have been, she decided—but then how had she gotten to her bed? She thought maybe her dad had carried her in, but then, his back wasn’t what it once was, and she weighed a lot more than Rachel these days.

  On the bedside table lay the box Rachel had been carrying at the barn. Skylar sat up, her head pounding. She opened the box and gasped. It was Cassie’s ouroboros ring. Rachel had been hiding it all this time. Skylar felt too drained to summon anger about it. She would have to gain her strength back first. She placed the ring on her right hand, keeping Cassie’s engagement ring on her left, then got up and walked to the bathroom—and immediately returned to bed. She had no strength to take a shower or even brush her teeth. She went back to sleep.

  It took three days for Skylar to feel able to dress and go downstairs. She looked in the mirror before leaving her room. Her eyes were significantly less intense; she could pass for human again.


  Despite the heat, she dressed in fleece from head to toe. She was freezing. Her body was still recovering from shock; apparently it hadn’t gotten all its systems working again. She packed up her bag and carried it downstairs.

  She found her dad watering the cascading petunias on the back deck. The flowers had enjoyed the hot spring and already looked well along in their growing season. She had no idea what she would say to Rachel when she saw her, but thankfully there was no sign of her anywhere.

  “So your love affair with Devlin Grayer?” Skylar asked, deciding to start with the least volatile of topics buzzing through her mind.

  “Glad to see you up and about,” he said, emotionless as he moved between the half dozen containers with the hose. He was dressed uncharacteristically, in shorts and a Hanes undershirt. Skylar figured he was only half-dressed for the day. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen his knees. “Devlin’s on his own cusp of immortality through science that will revolutionize the world,” Joel said. “I do marvel at the strides he’s made. It’s no coincidence Milicent latched on to him. But I really just wanted to keep my eye on them. Keep your enemies closer, right?” He let out a nervous laugh.

  “I need some time to think,” Skylar said, glancing at her bag on the step.

  “Of course, pumpkin,” Joel said. “Headed back to your . . . house?”

  “Yeah. I miss my cat.”

  “When you’re ready, we can resume our review of the DNA findings. You still have all of that to sort through. I hope you can let me help you.”

  “Okay, Dad,” she said, staring at the rainbow in the droplets of water dancing on the petunias’ petals. The water had a life of its own, capturing the happiness of the sunshine and transforming it into relief from the very essence that was creating the miserable heat. Watching it, Skylar had an epiphany: The solution is in the problem. Everyone she knew had worked their whole lives to rewrite her destiny, but it hadn’t worked. She must face Milicent and the evil she represented or she would never be free to live her life in the happiness of the sunshine, like these drops of water.