Ocean's Fire

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by Stacey Tucker


  After her good-byes to her father, Skylar drove down the tree-lined drive and out onto the county road. She pulled over about a mile from the house and dialed her phone.

  “I’ve been expecting your call,” the velvety voice purred.

  “Can I come see you?” Skylar asked. “I need your help.”

  “Of course, I’ll be here until six.”

  Skylar entered the Quine through the back entrance. Ever since her vision on the hill, she couldn’t go through the front without getting a shiver up her spine.

  The sterile wall of tinted windows hid the hall of classrooms bustling with students. Milicent had just returned from the Midwest campaign tour, handling both her wifely duties and her management of the Quine seamlessly. When Skylar mentioned this to Ocean, her mentor had joked that Milicent must have mastered teleportation without her knowledge. Skylar knocked on Milicent’s office door, and it opened immediately.

  “Come in, Skylar,” Milicent said. She was striking in a blue-violet sheath reminiscent of something Jackie Onassis would have worn. Her ice-blond hair was pulled back in an iridescent wrap. Quarter-sized amethysts dotted each ear. She made it look easy to wear such a fortune.

  “I haven’t been in your office before,” Skylar said. The truth was, no one had. She looked around uneasily. “It’s beautiful.” Milicent’s office was a far cry from the modest office of the old barn. Even the dark cherry wood appeared luminous. Giant purple geodes the size of NFL linebackers flanked either side of her purple leather desk chair. Every flat surface was piled high with the most luxurious pillows in every shade of purple, adorned in sparkly stones just as brilliant as the ones in her ears.

  “Have a seat,” Milicent said.

  Skylar sat in a high wing-backed chair wrapped in horsehair that was dyed in a purple-and-white zebra pattern. It was studded with the same jewels as the pillows. Skylar had changed into her best khaki skirt and white blouse, knowing appearance was important to Milicent, but she had clearly fallen short. There was no competing on Milicent’s level.

  “You seem to have an agenda today, Skylar, but so do I,” Milicent said. “Do you mind if I go first?”

  “Please.” Skylar was terrified.

  “Devlin’s campaign is more than a full-time job, and it is increasingly difficult to be supportive from Rosen,” she said begrudgingly. “He needs me by his side. It pains me to leave all I have created here, but I must go to him. I need someone here I can count on.” She sat back and watched Skylar fidget in her seat. “I would like you to run things in my absence. Effective immediately, you will be needed here every day, for as many hours as it takes to get the job done. You are one of the originals, Skylar. You understand the history. Kyle and Suki are helpful, yes, but they don’t have your . . . abilities. This facility should be handled by . . . one of us.”

  Skylar was speechless. This was the first time Milicent had acknowledged anything about the two of them belonging to an us.

  Milicent got up from her chair and stood in front of Skylar. “Your physical appearance has improved immensely.” She put a hand under Skylar’s chin and lifted her face, inspecting the changes in her cheekbones and eyes.

  Skylar could see swirls of red heat radiating off of Milicent’s hands. Her fingers were hot on her face. She worked hard to pierce the veil the rest of Milicent’s body was hiding behind, but soon gave up. She must have learned the same tricks as Rachel, she thought, frustrated.

  “We can easily fix your wardrobe,” Milicent said, glancing at Skylar’s clothes with distaste. “The new facility has an image I want to carry forward.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, this is an amazing offer, but I am so close to completing my year,” Skylar said, red in the face. “If I take this job, I won’t have any time to complete my thesis.”

  “Of course, I understand,” Milicent said. “Maybe I was unclear. This job would be salaried but also count as a . . . final exam, you could say, in lieu of your thesis paper. I have already cleared it with the powers that be at Cornell.” She walked around her desk and stood in front of the window. The sunlight bounced off the gems in her ears, shattering in a thousand directions. “You’ll need to live closer than that house of yours. I’ve made arrangements for you to take up quarters at Neshoba. There is plenty of room.”

  “Ma’am, I—”

  “You will have to manage my stable of private horses as well,” Milicent said, her face growing dark. For a moment she reminded Skylar of Joshua. She walked back around to her chair but stood silent for a long moment, a faraway look on her face. “How rude I am to dominate our time together,” she said. “What did you want to see me about?” She sat back down in her chair.

  Skylar fumbled for the right words. She wasn’t exactly sure, she realized. And now her head was swirling with this new bomb-shell. “I . . . I’m sorry. This job offer has me completely forgetting why I came.”

  “Oh dear, now I am the sorry one. Well, if you remember, be sure to ring me,” Milicent said. Dismissive now, she turned her focus to the papers in front of her. “I am leaving for the tour tomorrow night. A few of Devlin’s staffers will stay an extra day to help you settle in. Congratulations on the promotion.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Skylar said in a daze as she walked out the door.

  Any clarity Skylar had enjoyed that morning was a distant memory as she trudged back to the barn. She stumbled across Suki and Kyle in the aisle.

  “You look pale,” Suki said.

  Skylar walked past them in a fog. “Kyle, you’ve just been demoted,” she said.

  “Huh?” Kyle said.

  “Milicent just offered me the keys to the castle,” Skylar said. She explained briefly what had happened, leaving out the bomb-shell of the past weekend. That story would have to wait.

  “What are you going to do?” Suki asked.

  “I’m saying no,” Skylar said. “I was so thrown, I couldn’t respond—but I just need to regroup, then I’ll say no.”

  “The get-out-of-school-free card is appealing, though,” Kyle said.

  “I’d rather write ten thesis papers than live in that house.” Suki shuddered. “I dreamed about my parents again this weekend, Sky. They lit my bed on fire.”

  Skylar remembered Magda’s scene of great destruction. “Let’s compare notes on that one, okay? You guys have time for a coffee?”

  The three friends left for the Daily Grind to catch up and strategize about Skylar’s next move.

  Skylar’s cell phone rang obscenely early the next day. It was Ronnie. Skylar felt a twinge of anger course through her, still stung by her friends’ betrayal. But the woman had just lost a child. No one should have to go through that.

  “Hi, Ronnie,” she said.

  “Hey, Skylar, how are you?”

  “I’ve been better. You?”

  “Same. What time is it there?”

  Skylar looked at her digital clock. “Five thirty . . . in the morning.”

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry to call so early,” Ronnie said.

  “It’s all right. I’m happy to hear from you.”

  “Are you? Ocean told me what happened. I owe you an apology for my role in the whole thing. You didn’t deserve such deception.”

  “I understand. You had a child to protect. I would have done the same.” Skylar tried to keep the quaver out of her voice. “I don’t blame you.”

  “Maybe in time you will afford the same forgiveness to Rachel,” Ronnie said.

  A pain ripped through Skylar’s heart. “How is India?” she asked, to change the subject.

  “It’s what I need. There is a healing energy here I haven’t found anywhere else in the world. Fagan feels it too, which is hopeful for our marriage. It’s hard to imagine staying together without Rhia.” There was a long pause.

  Skylar stared at the ceiling. “Milicent is leaving to tour with Devlin full-time, and she wants me to run the new equine facility while she’s gone.”

  “Your parents won’t be ha
ppy about that, even if Milicent is gone—but Ocean would tell you to take it.”

  “It wasn’t really an offer, more like a draft,” Skylar said. “And I would need to live at Neshoba.”

  There was a pause as Ronnie took that information in. “Milicent doesn’t care about Devlin or the campaign,” she finally said. “She has an agenda with you being at that house. If you’re up for it, it would seem to be go time. Ocean can help you.”

  The idea of going to Ocean after all of her deception wasn’t a comforting thought, but Skylar knew she couldn’t navigate this new chapter without her.

  “Okay, Ronnie. Thank you for calling. I hope you find what you need in India.”

  “And I hope you find what you need at Milicent’s.”

  For the first two weeks of May, Skylar did nothing but field calls from angry students and parents demanding explanations and refunds. No one but Skylar seemed happy that Milicent was gone for the rest of the semester. Finally, she made the executive decision to change all grades to pass/fail and pass the lot. The calls quieted substantially after that.

  Once school was finished for the semester, Skylar focused on her duties at Neshoba. For all of Milicent’s blueblood upbringing, she didn’t care much for hired help indoors, so most of Skylar’s nights were spent alone. She continued to struggle with finding her way around the estate; she could swear the location of the kitchen was in flux, always facing the sun. The fifteen fireplaces were large enough to drive her car through, and she mistakenly walked into one her second morning there. She fell down the ash shaft only to appear two hours later in the butler’s pantry. Even her gift of insight proved unreliable as a navigation tool at Neshoba. She actually thought it might be wearing off.

  With all the attention her new job required, Skylar wasn’t sharpening any of her skills. Ocean had told her time and again, “Talent is nothing without practice,” but she simply didn’t have any spare time. Ocean had warned her that this was part of Milicent’s game—to keep her unschooled, and thus less of a threat—and told her she needed to make time for the mental challenges her training would require. So far, Skylar wasn’t succeeding.

  Her living quarters at Neshoba were simple. She’d brought only her bedding and one box of personal items with her, hoping this little charade wouldn’t last too long. Suki had promised to check in on Michael. Skylar missed him, and her tiny house, immensely. She asked herself nightly why she was doing this. She couldn’t get close to Milicent if she was never there; the place was particularly sterile, and Skylar could glean nothing about the woman of the house among her belongings.

  The one place Skylar’s sight was sharpest was around Milicent’s horses. She could see they weren’t animals at all, but dark shadows of the beasts they used to be. To most humans they were difficult, even dangerous. To Skylar, they were sad immortals craving rest. Everyone saw the four larger horses as black in color, but Skylar now saw them differently: one white, one red, one black, one grey. Her insight told her they were the beasts she’d seen in the field behind her house that night with Cheveyo. She feared them then, but now she understood their pain and felt compassion for their plight.

  The four were the male protectors of the one white mare, Dune. They never let Skylar or anyone else close enough to examine her. Dune was also a restless soul neither living nor dead, but she was different than the four. Skylar could make out a faint horn on her forehead, but it didn’t appear solid like Cheveyo’s.

  Much of Skylar’s time was spent managing the revolving door of handlers at Neshoba. Most didn’t last a week. The horses wouldn’t mind her any more than the men that tried, but they never bit her. A few of the handlers left with missing fingers or chunks taken out of one of their arms. All had signed iron-clad agreements and had no recourse for medical bills or ruined careers.

  The creatures refused to be led into stalls, so they spent their time either in the paddock or grazing in the fields. The best Skylar could do was talk to them, let them know she would find a way to set them free from the hell in which they were all so clearly trapped.

  “Turn on the news!” Suki’s voice screamed out of the phone.

  Skylar had given up trying to figure out the media system at Neshoba, so she fired up her laptop. CNN was reporting that Devlin Grayer was likely to secure the Republican nomination based on primary numbers.

  “Damn,” Skylar said into the phone. “My job just got a whole lot harder.” Her caller ID buzzed in. It was Milicent. “Shit, Suuk, I gotta go.” She disconnected Suki and picked up Milicent’s call. “Hi, Milicent, how—”

  “Not now,” Milicent said sharply. “We are coming back. Devlin is going to be president. Isn’t that wonderful?” There was no excitement in her voice. “We are throwing a celebration on the twenty-first before we head to the National Convention next month. We have to prepare. We’ll be home tonight.” She hung up.

  Skylar wished she drank more. She would have poured herself something strong to calm her nerves.

  The next two weeks were run at a feverish pace. The celebration would be held at the TD Garden in Boston on the twenty-first of June. Skylar appreciated her new ability to function on little sleep. She and the rest of the staff worked eighteen-hour days, contacting desired attendees, managing catering services, implementing security measures, and doing everything they could to ensure Milicent’s plan was brought to life.

  The night before the celebration, Skylar didn’t go to bed at all. Everything was done and double-checked, but nerves kept her pacing her room. She hadn’t meditated in weeks and didn’t care. She knew she was supposed to focus and train her mind, but she hadn’t, and all that Rhia had died for seemed to be fading into a bad dream.

  In the dark hours of night, she admitted to herself that she was lonely. She missed her family. They had all deceived her, but she didn’t feel any better without them. She’d been telling herself she hadn’t had time to think about Rachel or Joel or any of the madness from the spring, but the truth was, she’d blocked it out of her heart. She knew she would have to forgive all of them to be happy—she just didn’t know how.

  Around four in the morning she went to the kitchen for a snack, and as she withdrew a block of cheese from a drawer, Milicent appeared from behind the fridge door. Skylar jumped.

  “So sorry to startle you, dear,” Milicent said sweetly. She was flawless even at this hour, wearing a deep-purple terry tracksuit. “I needed to get some water.” She pulled a bottle out of the fridge. “You know, Skylar, I haven’t said it, but you have been a great asset around here. I appreciate your hard work.”

  “Thank you,” Skylar said, feeling underdressed at the late hour in her faded sweatpants and tank top. “It’s been a valuable learning experience.”

  “You remind me so much of myself when I was your age. You have enormous potential. I look forward to helping you realize it all,” Milicent said, grazing Skylar’s cheek with one purple talon. It reminded Skylar of the way Joshua touched her face. She backed away slightly.

  “I’m not the enemy, Skylar,” Milicent said. “Despite what others may have told you.”

  Skylar froze. She thought she saw a red hue dance around Milicent, but it vanished quickly.

  “Everyone you loved lied to you.” Milicent’s stare was intense. “Enemies lie. I will never lie to you.”

  “They had good intentions. They were protecting me,” Skylar said defensively.

  “You know where good intentions lead.” In the darkness of the kitchen, Milicent took on a faint glow, like a dim night-light. “I’m not going to pretend to love you. I need your help to get what I want. What’s wrong with that?” she asked, all rage and redness under control.

  “How do I help you?” Skylar asked shakily.

  “Joshua carries much of my blood. And you carry Rachel’s. A double dose of Vivienne. She is the water that created the earth. You and Joshua would have created a goddess like no other. She would have been a power the likes of which this world has never seen. And y
ou got rid of it!” Milicent’s face contorted with rage.

  “I miscarried! That’s what happens when blood is too similar. It’s not natural.”

  “The days of nature are over. The world is ready for the next step.”

  “It was a boy,” Skylar whispered.

  “Sure it was,” Milicent said.

  “I will ask again: How can I help you, now?” Skylar asked cautiously.

  “Follow your detailed action plan for the celebration. Afterward, I will need to see that book of yours. I got a hold of it once, but it’s no use to me without your new abilities—which, I must say, you are currently squandering.” Milicent’s typical ice queen demeanor faltered slightly. “I will help you hone them to use the book as it was meant to be used.” She recovered her composure. “That book holds the key to returning our world to balance. Magda has told you this.”

  The mention of Magda’s name on Milicent’s lips took Skylar by surprise. She didn’t want to tell Milicent that she no longer had the Book of Akasha.

  “Oh, yes, you’ve believed Magda is on Ocean’s side,” Milicent said. “Magda doesn’t take sides. She has one goal: to return the Divine Feminine to earth. She will enlist the help of anyone that can accomplish this. That would be the two of us, Skylar. I am aware Ocean has helped you in the past, but you can’t honestly believe anything she says now. She is obsessed with returning the great wisdom to the world.”

  “Aren’t they the same thing?” Skylar said.

  “No,” Milicent barked. “Humans don’t need wisdom, they need to be told what to do. That’s how they like it. They don’t want to do the work it takes to evolve. They need to be led. That’s where we come in. The Divine Feminine is the return of female rule.” Milicent abandoned her bottle of water and walked to the bar cart. Skylar dared not say a word. “I’m sorry about Cassandra, really I am. I might have been able to help her live if she had come to me sooner. I’ve made great strides in loosening the bonds of illness.”

  Skylar paled. “My mother came to you?”

 

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