by T. L. Martin
I recalled the first day I stepped inside Your Tea Stop. The surprise in Pixie’s eyes, and how she and Quinn had both inquired if I’d come alone.
“But I’m human.”
“Yes,” Priscilla replied slowly, her eyes focusing intently on me. “And I have a few questions for you.”
My brows knitted together.
“You have trouble sleeping at night and have fallen victim to fainting spells? And, if I’m not mistaken, you experience something your elementary school counselor diagnosed as severe ‘panic disorder’?”
I didn’t bother to hide my bewilderment, and my eyes narrowed slightly. “How did you know about that?”
“I’ve made some recent inquiries. Please...” Priscilla gestured for me to continue with a low wave of the palm of her hand.
Uncertain, I didn’t respond right away. I could leave right now. Forget all of it and not have to go digging around in my past. I was afraid. Afraid of revealing so much of myself to these people I knew so little of. Afraid of what I might learn. But a larger part of me wanted fervently to hear what she had to say. Perhaps she could be the one to finally go beyond labels, to provide an actual, solid explanation to my condition. Alas, curiosity killed the cat.
“Um. Well. It used to get pretty bad. I’d faint in class or feel anxious and sweat for no reason. Other times, it’d be enough to keep me up all night, and I’d fall asleep in class.”
“And this is when your aunt, Stacy, decided to withdraw you from public school?” Priscilla asked, taking another slow sip of tea.
I paused, surprised, once again, by how much she already knew.
“Kind of. For a while, I was able to keep how bad it really was from her. The, um, pressure...socially...from the other students. Teachers called, but it was easy to delete the messages before she got in or throw away their notes.” I glanced down at the memory, guilt kicking in at the dishonesty. “I didn’t want her to worry. But, in middle school, things got worse. It was my neighbor who noticed, actually. He told my aunt everything. That’s when she had me pulled: my second year at Harbor Light.”
Pixie was staring at me with the sympathetic eyes I tried as often as possible to avoid, and I cleared my throat.
“It was good, though,” I continued, keeping my voice strong. “I learned from it and, eventually, found out that the more I keep my body going, stay active, the better I feel. I haven’t fainted in almost three years. And the panic attacks calmed down a lot. As long as I keep up with my exercise routine, I’m good.”
“And how do you stay active?” Priscilla asked.
“Swimming, running...kickboxing.”
Pixie let out a low whistle. “Jeez, Charlie. I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with you.”
My thoughts shifted back to the attack, and I shook my head. “Yeah, well...I don’t know how I would have gotten away from that guy last night if it wasn’t for Desmond.”
Quinn’s hazel eyes met mine. When she spoke, her words were rushed, quickly spilling out. “Charlie, I’m so sorry. Everything that happened...I should never have taken you there. I didn’t realize...I’m just so sorry.”
“No. It’s okay,” I assured her, trying more so to convince myself. In all honesty, I didn’t know how okay I was feeling about anything just yet. “Better to know about all this than be ignorant to it forever, right?”
A scratching sound pulled my attention to a notepad beside Priscilla. Letters etched themselves into the top page, forming the words: Sorry to interrupt. But it’s a quarter till. –Matt.
Priscilla glanced at the clock hanging from the wall. “I am sorry to be so hasty, but I have a meeting with the town council shortly. Girls, this will not take long.”
Quinn and Pixie rose from their seats and headed toward the door, both of them glancing back at me before disappearing from sight.
Without further ado, Priscilla turned her attention back to me.
“Charlie. I’m going to be straightforward with you.” Her voice was grim, her eyes leaden from what seemed to be the burden of her words. “In our world, there is rumor of a unique power resurfacing—one that has come around only once before, many centuries ago. It is referred to as the Opal, because the power is said to be contained within an opal-like stone. Most supernatural beings consider this stone to be invaluable. There are some who would stop at nothing to acquire it.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“Essentially, it has the potential to remarkably enhance one’s abilities. Once an individual bonds, or syncs, themselves to it, they become virtually invincible. Especially in its presence. They say it can make a single witch far more powerful than a collection of covens, and a vampire faster, stronger, more capable than an army of vampires.”
“Wow,” I whispered, trying to fathom what someone with access to that kind of stone would be capable of.
“Wow is correct,” she replied, sipping her tea once more. “But there is a catch. Most are so blinded by lust, that even the kindest soul can be tainted. You see, the way the Opal works is by bonding on a fundamental level to its keeper. Once they have synced to each other and that bond has been formed, it exposes the individual’s basic, most innate nature—bringing out either the best or the worst in them, depending on what is buried deep within their hearts. This could turn out to be a good thing, should its keeper be truly worthy.”
“Or,” I interjected, thinking aloud, “it could be devastating.”
“Precisely,” Priscilla agreed.
“I can’t even imagine. But...I swear I’ve never heard of it before.” I still didn’t understand why she was telling me all this.
“I know, dear.”
“Then...what does it have to do with me, exactly?”
“We will get to that in just a moment,” she answered calmly. “I need to see that you understand the Opal first. Did you have any further questions about it? Anything at all?”
“Um, well...so it’s somewhere out there now? The stone?”
“Fortunately, to most, it is just a rumor. But sometimes a rumor is all it takes to create chaos,” she replied, lowering her eyes in sadness.
Something told me Priscilla knew more than most about these things. Besides, would she really be telling me, someone she just met, about such a thing if it was nothing more than a rumor?
“And what do you think?” I asked, though I already had a feeling I knew the answer. “Is it just a rumor?”
She paused, bringing her gaze back up to mine. “No, dear. It is not.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, for one, Guardians have been summoned.” She slowly took another swig of her tea before continuing, “Guardians are only born when there is a grave need for them in the supernatural realm. Such a thing is quite rare. A Guardian’s species can vary, human or otherwise, but they’re gifted the capability of shielding whatever they are called upon to protect from danger. The first time they were summoned was in the 1600’s, at the height of the witch hunts. And the time after that? 1726—for the Opal.”
“Guardians,” I murmured, “like Matt.”
“Correct.”
“So he has the stone, then? It’s in safe hands?”
“Not exactly,” she responded, hesitantly. “You see, the Opal was said to be a stone when it first materialized all those years ago. It was destroyed by one of its keepers, and we had no reason to believe it would be different this time. But, as last night’s events have finally confirmed, the Opal has indeed turned out to be quite different than expected.”
Her prolonged silence prompted me to lower a puzzled brow.
“I’m not following,” I said.
“You, Charlie,” she replied. “You are the Opal.”
CHAPTER FIVE: AN AWAKENING
“I’m sorry. What?”
It took me a moment to fully process the words Priscilla had just uttered. And once I did, I was certain I’d somehow misunderstood.
“I’ve known there was some connection for a wh
ile, and I can hardly believe it took me this long to figure it out. All of that restlessness—the tension and anxiety you experience when you fail to keep your body going...” Priscilla said, leaning forward slightly. “That is because of the constant flow of energy, of pure power, running through your veins with nowhere else to go. You’ve been trying to burn that energy through physical endurance, and it works. For a little while. But, as I presume you are already beginning to learn, it is only a temporary fix.”
“But that’s impossible,” I protested. “I feel so...ordinary. There has to be a mistake.”
Priscilla reached an aged hand across the table and gently wrapped it around my own. “I can assure you, dear. This is no mistake.”
“How can you know that?” I asked, abruptly withdrawing my hand from hers. There was simply no way that I could possess powers, never mind be some supernatural prodigy. “A bit of excessive jitters doesn’t mean anything.”
“Not alone, it doesn’t,” she replied, unaffected by my sudden change in attitude. “That deep sleep you finally experienced last night and the serenity you woke up with this morning? Those were a result of using your energy as it was meant to be used. Connecting with another person and releasing your powers into them.”
I glanced down at my hands, fanning my ordinary fingers out for a skeptical examination. Could this be real?
“You may not remember this at present, Charlie, but last night you demonstrated your powers while Pixie was healing you. Even unconscious, you were able to enhance her ability to heal, allowing her to complete the entire process within a matter of seconds. That is unheard of for a witch so young, you see.”
Priscilla rose from her seat and retrieved a fresh mug of steaming tea, setting it down before me.
“Do you ever experience a chilling sensation when you’re in my shop? Somewhere along your spine, perhaps?”
Taking my silence for confirmation, she sat back down and carried on.
“It’s a sense you share with witches, one that allows us to know when a vampire is present. You’ll notice a little something with demons too, when you meet one. Usually, the touch of a warm breeze just behind your earlobe.”
I wanted to respond, but the shock had not quite worn off. Recollections of the sensations while in the shop were quickly coming to mind. And in my house, I suddenly realized. I’d been feeling a slow chill along my spine for a while now, in fact—even during my walks and swims. A thought suddenly hit me: could a vampire have stolen my mother’s necklace?
“And then there’s the matter of the memory wipe Quinn cast on you before returning you home,” Priscilla continued. “I knew at once upon realizing what you were that her spell would not be strong enough to keep. She meant it only as a kindness to you, of course, but I am glad it did not hold.”
“Please,” Priscilla urged, gesturing a hand toward the tea, “it will help.”
“I don’t need tea.” My tone came across sharper than I intended, but Priscilla did not seem to mind. Still, I made an effort to soften it slightly. “I just—I need to understand.”
A familiar scratching interrupted as new words formed on the notepad. Should I reschedule? –Matt.
Priscilla let out a deep breath. It was at that moment I noticed just how deeply exhausted she looked. The sunken bags beneath her eyes and weary lines between her brows, even her skin was a paler tone than usual. She had been absent from the shop quite frequently, and I wondered if she was getting any sleep.
“I apologize for being so rushed. For the moment I can say with absolute certainty that you, Charlotte Marie Eden, are the Opal. With this comes a great amount of responsibility, but there is also the unearthly feel of magic that you will soon come to experience. And, perhaps, over time, even grow to love.”
She casually gestured toward the tea mug once more. “Drink.”
Before I realized what was happening, the hot ceramic cup was in my hand and liquid slid down my throat like smooth honey. Whether my unwitting obedience was a result of magic or of her sheer commanding nature, I could not tell.
“Thank you,” she murmured, pleased. “Now, I will not disrespect you by sugarcoating anything. Over time, there will be highly dangerous characters searching for you. But we have the advantage.”
“How?” I asked, setting the cup down. The newly formed tension in my muscles was dissipating with each sip of the rich tea, despite my mind attempting to fight it. “Apparently, I live in a town riddled with supernatural beings and work at a tea shop that happens to cater to the supernatural. Seems to me that I’m a fish in a shark tank.”
“Quite the opposite, dear,” Priscilla countered. “Supernatural beings live amongst every community, scattered across the world. There is no avoiding that. The first advantage we have is that you are surrounded by those of us able and willing to protect you. You are safer here than you would be elsewhere. Secondly, the few individuals aware of the Opal rumors will be searching in far less obvious locations. They certainly would never guess the Opal would be hiding in such plain sight. Perhaps our biggest asset, however, is that they are in search of a stone—not a person.”
I thought back to the break-in at home, suddenly wondering if that explained the necklace being stolen. It was the only stone in the house, after all. Inhaling a deep breath, I sat back in my chair and held it for a moment as I tried to take everything in.
“That’s why I was attacked last night,” I finally replied. “That man—or witch—was trying to get to the Opal. How did he even connect me to it?”
“I don’t have an answer to that yet. What Desmond did learn is the witch did not realize you are the Opal. His plan was to torture the information out of you, to lead him to the stone.”
“Awesome,” I muttered.
“But we will not be caught off guard like that again,” Priscilla declared, abruptly rising from her chair and clearing off the table. “Although I realize you will not be fond of this, for a short while, there will be a twenty-four-hour surveillance on you. Someone to accompany you wherever you may go.”
This isn’t happening. It can’t be.
I knew it was impossible; though my eyes and ears were discrediting that and quietly urging me to listen to these people, I was too stunned to trust my own judgment. No matter how at ease my body was finally feeling, sitting so calmly in this chair, my mind was begging me wildly to beat down the door and run. And why shouldn’t I? It had been only two weeks ago that I couldn’t even name any of the people sitting before me. And, still, I hardly knew them at all.
If it were true, if I was really this Opal character…could I even trust them? Would I be wise to heed their words or to abandon them completely? Perhaps, with what little I knew just yet, it would be wisest not to let on to my troublesome doubts.
“Priscilla... I appreciate your offer, but I really don’t think that’s necessary,” I argued lightly. “I mean, it’s not even dark out right now and–”
“I’m sorry, Charlie. But this is not up for discussion.” Her tone was both gentle and stern. “We don’t know if that witch was working alone, or who else might suspect a connection between you and the Opal. We cannot leave you vulnerable for another attack like that.”
As much as I wanted to fight for my independence on this, I knew her reasoning was sound. It wasn’t just my own safety I had to consider in all this; it was my aunt, Ray, and all the other innocent people who could be endangered if the wrong person got ahold of me.
Standing up, I mindlessly wiped the table off with my hand. “So. What happens now?”
“Now?” she repeated, calmly strolling to my side. She smiled kindly and embraced my hand in her warm grip, giving it a soft squeeze. “Now, we go outside. Take in a full breath of that fresh oceanside air and enjoy the world, one tide at a time.”
I almost managed a small smile at the welcoming thought. “And tomorrow?”
Priscilla led me toward the ivory wall. “Tomorrow, you get to experience a training session, where I will i
ntroduce you to our world.”
Before I could inquire as to what exactly she meant by that, she was leading me through the secret door. When I finally stumbled out of the cluttered closet, I caught the clipped whispers coming from three anxious faces before they spotted us, quickly falling silent. Matt, Quinn, and Pixie seemed to be the only people in the shop. Priscilla followed just behind me and swiftly retrieved her coat from the hanging rack.
“Charlie will be heading home now,” she announced, slipping her arms through the coat’s heavy sleeves and untucking her long strands of hair. “She will return tomorrow morning for me. Does that work for you, dear?” she asked, turning her attention to me.
“Uh, sure,” I answered, not quite certain what I was agreeing to. “I guess. I just need to be home by the afternoon, for my neighbor.”
Ray would be expecting me for our walk, and I did not want to cancel. Not only did he need me, but I needed him. Anything to hang on to a sense of normality.
Matt took a step forward from behind the counter, an overly confident expression set on his face.
“I’ll walk her home,” he volunteered, already removing the apron from around his neck.
“And I can stay home with her for the day,” Quinn quickly added. She looked just as determined as Matt.
Pixie smiled, nudging my arm with her elbow. “I can swing by after closing, too.”
“I’m afraid none of you will be accompanying Charlie today,” Priscilla intervened, making her way toward the front door.
Incredibly relieved, I was about to thank her when Matt spoke first.
“I’m her Guardian,” he argued definitively. “I should be there with her.”
“You are her Guardian in training,” Priscilla corrected. “And you will be with her, when you’re ready.”
“Then let me summon the others,” Matt continued resolutely.
Priscilla looked at him pointedly. “You and I both know it’s much too early for that. We are not yet prepared to take on the repercussions.”
For a second he looked like he was going to argue again but ultimately looked down in defeat.