by Lizzie Vega
“My family has visited this structure for decades. It’s a very powerful place. I called it a chapel when I was little, my sisters would just laugh at me.” She placed one crystal in her hand and squeezed it. Stefan could see the light grow from between her fingers. The intensity grew to the point where he thought he could see the bones in her fingers.
“It’s like an x-ray.” He looked a little concerned, “That doesn’t hurt, does it?”
She smiled, “No, this one doesn’t.” She held up the second darker crystal gently cupped in the palm of her hand. It wasn’t glowing like the first one, quite the opposite. In the dim light of Iris’s rock chapel, the crystal wouldn’t even catch light along it’s faceted sides.
“This one however,” she took a deep breath, “This one may sting a little. Stay back a bit, Stef. I’ll be ok.” She turned away from him to face the wall of the granite monoliths and raised her hands in the air toward a tall thin line of brilliant blue sky where the two towers parted. Stefan saw her take another deep breath.
“Sisters of light,” and she closed her hand around the second crystal. “Uhhh,” she groaned and her arm spasmed, the muscles of her forearm and biceps appeared to flex tightly, “and sisters of the darkness,” her voice wavered slightly. “I ask… for council.”
The bright crystal pulsed once and then dimmed. The dark crystal seemed to pulse but for a moment Stefan couldn’t see Iris’s hand. It seemed to disappear against the face of the rock. It pulsed a second time and her left hand and wrist dissolved into a black shadow before returning to normal.
A second quiet pulse from the bright crystal was instantly echoed by a third much larger dark pulse, “Ahhh,” Iris cried out as the darkness enveloped her arm. A twinge shot across her shoulders and back. She had to move a foot forward to stabilize herself. She regained her balance, “It is decided.” And she opened her hands and slowly brought them down to her sides. Stefan just stood there waiting for her to turn around. There wasn’t a sound in the cave. All Stefan could hear was Iris’s labored breathing and the pounding of his own heart.
She turned to face him, she wasn’t smiling. “Are you Ok?” he asked softly. She nodded as she placed the crystals back into her bag, “We can go now.” She walked by him and out into the afternoon sun. Stefan walked out of the cave and Iris was already several steps ahead of him.
She turned and looked back at him and stopped short, “Ooh, stop,” she reached in her bag for her phone, “Stay right there” as she fumbled with the camera app, “you’re looking very hot Viking warrior right now,” and she took several pictures.
Stefan grinned at her and struck a couple goofy poses that made Iris laugh as he walked toward her. “Hey, that’s my girl, I like that smile.” She reached out her hand and they made their way down the trail to the road arm in arm.
They climbed in Stefan’s Tahoe and Iris took out her phone and quickly thumbed through the pictures she had taken and smiled and she handed him the phone, “Take a look,” she teased, “other than too much shirt, you’re pretty photogenic.”
Stefan just looked at her, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, that looked pretty serious in there.” He looked at the first picture, “Nice shot, actually. The tower looks pretty cool. Nice color flare from the sun.”
She just smiled, “keep looking.” He flipped through the rest of the pictures, there were twenty in all. He slowed toward the end and then flipped back through them a second time. “The color flare is following me and it fades out at the end. Is that supposed to happen or did you do something?”
She laughed, “No, I didn’t do anything. I told you this is a powerful place, that’s your aura. I thought I might be able to catch it on film.” She looked through the pictures again, “This one. yeah, this one, I’m getting framed.”
Stefan started up the SUV, “You said ‘decided’ back there. Was it the decision you wanted?”
She reached across and buckled her seat belt, “Actually, no it wasn’t. And I hadn’t been in the cave since I was little. I don’t remember it hurting quite that much. There was more interference that I expected. Something’s up in town.”
Stefan looked a little worried, “It looked to me as if the dark crystal won the debate.”
Iris nodded, “Mmhmm, it did. Very observant of you. Let’s hit the road. I have an hour to prepare for this.” She flexed her hand several times trying to ease the pain.
He shifted into drive but left his foot on the brake, “You know I trust you in what you’re about to do, right? Well,” he continued, “whatever this is.”
“Thank you, Stef. I know you do. It’s been almost eight years since I’ve been home. I’m returning on my own terms, successful in my own way. When my father sent me away, he was frustrated. I didn’t conform to his standards like my sisters did. He saw me as failure.”
“Pfft,” was Stefan’s comeback, “Far from it. He’s in for a surprise.”
“Yep,” she smiled, “that’s the plan.”
The sixty mile trip went quickly as they drove down out of the foothills and down into the city. Stefan dropped Iris off at a small boutique a couple of blocks from the restaurant and found a place to park. He walked into the nearly empty bar and grill and was greeted by an attractive brunette. Her appearance startled him. Take the young woman’s hair out of the pony tail and add a couple of studs in the eyebrow, she was the spitting image of Iris. He tried to be cool about it but he couldn’t help but stare.
She didn’t break his gaze, “Bar or grill, today?” she asked, her voice had a melodic flirty sound to it. “Grill, please,” he said quickly, “It was a long drive, did I miss any lunch specials?”
She didn’t answer him right away. She just looked him up and down, “Everything here is special,” she said with a wink, “Sit wherever you like, my name is Maggie” she acknowledged one other table of patrons nearby who were just getting ready to leave, “You’ve got the place pretty much to yourself.”
He quickly scanned the seating layout and pointed to a small table to the side and close to the front windows It would offer him a full view of the dining room, “That looks good over there,” and he made his way to the table and sat with his back to the wall.
It was a nice layout. The furnishings and fixtures along with a tile checkerboard floor gave the place an honest small town diner feel. She followed close behind him with a menu, “So,” she said, “Single? Oh, shit,” she corrected herself, blushing “Table for one?”
“Yes, please,” replied Stefan not acknowledging her gaffe, “Any recommendations?” He asked her as he handed the unopened menu back to her.
“Actually, yes,” and she pointed toward the service counter to the kitchen. Stefan could see a tall older man doing some prep work, “My father did up a big batch of oak fired chicken for the noon rush, I think he has more prepped and ready. I can add some grilled veggies and a salad, anything to drink?”
Stefan caught himself smiling a little too much. He couldn’t help but think back to the first time he had met Iris. She wasn’t as direct, but the playfulness was certainly there.
“An iced tea would be great, thank you.” She made a note on her pad but didn’t see Stefan look out the window towards the shops across the street, “Nice view too,” he said, just as she looked back up at him.
“Well, thank you,” she said with a wink, “I’ll be right back with your salad,” and she walked away from him chuckling.
He again, looked out the window hoping to catch a glance of Iris as she made her way down the street. She had told him very little of how she would reunite with her family.
“Here you go. This will get you started.” She set the salad and his tea in front of him. She lingered a bit, but a chime from the front door announced another customer. An older woman with a couple of shopping bags made her way in the front door. It was clear that Stefan’s server didn’t want to leave him, but she called over to the new guest, “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right with you.”
The woman just smiled at her, “No worries, hun, I’ll just grab a table over here.” She set her packages down and slid into an end banquette with chairs on the other side of the table.
“Not surprised you’re drawing a crowd,” she grinned, “Be right back with your meal.” Stefan smiled and thanked her and with a flash of her pony tail, she walked over to the other table. He looked at the woman across the room, shrugged and started in on his salad. He kept watching the street outside.
“Hi, I’m Maggie, what can I get for you today.”
The woman looked over the top of her bifocals. Laugh lines drawing attention to her pretty blue eyes, “Well, Maggie,” she began, “I’m passing through town and I was told by a shopkeeper down the street that this place can do up a steak in a fine fashion. Is that true or just a rumor?”
Maggie grinned, “Oh my, not a rumor, it’s an absolute fact. My father is an excellent chef,” her tone sounded boastful. “Do you have a preference on the cut?”
“I do actually, had a craving for it today, an Angus fillet if you have it?”
“Um, uh, Yes, we do,” she sounded pleasantly surprised, “It’s my dad’s signature cut. How would you like it done.”
“Rare, please,” was the woman’s response, “very rare. Any chance of some grilled asparagus on the side?”
More surprise from the young woman, “Maybe?” she said with a question, “I better go check on that for you,” she pointed toward the prep area, “Be right back.”
She watched as Maggie went to the serving counter and spoke quietly with the chef. He looked over toward her table and squinted to see her. He nodded his head and then the kitchen door swung open and he followed Maggie over to the woman’s table. He was wiping his hands on a towel as he walked over.
Maggie got there first, “My dad has a couple questions, just to make sure you get what you want.”
The woman seemed delighted to speak to the chef. She pushed up the sleeves on her sweater as he approached and flashed a pretty smile. She moved her head back and forth causing her bob cut to bounce back and forth. It made Maggie smile.
“Hi there,” he said with grin as he approached the table and towered over both of them, “I’m Arthur. I’m your chief cook and bottle washer here. I just want to make sure on the rare part of your order. Some folks aren’t really sure just what rare really means.”
“I understand, “she said, “I like rare to the point where, if you get the steer to the ER, you might be able to save it.” The woman laughed heartily.
Maggie just shuddered, “Ewww, that’s bloody,” but Arthur laughed warmly, “Ha, I haven’t heard that phrase for years, you obviously know your cuts of meat. I can do that.” He added, “How about a little lemon on the asparagus, just to give it a little bite?”
“That sounds perfect.” She put her chin on her hand and discreetly began tracing her fingertip over the wooden table top with her other hand.
As he turned to leave, she called to him, “Arthur, if I could, one last request?”
He stopped and turned back to her, “Sure.”
“Could you put a little dab of horseradish on the side” and she smiled at him, then at Maggie, “I think I’m old enough now to appreciate the taste of it.”
Maggie’s expression froze in confusion and she looked at her father then back at the woman. He turned and faced the woman. She continued to trace her finger on the table.
“That’s an interesting way to put it,” he said, some of his smile was fading.
The woman smiled at him and lifted her foot up under the table and slid the chair across the tile toward him, “Have a seat, Arthur.”
He cast a concerned look toward Maggie, but he grabbed the back of the hoop back chair and sat down. “What’s this all about?”
She finished tracing her finger on the table and then joined her hands together at the fingertips and blinked her eyes.
She had been taught well.
She had quietly begun the hand glyph during their conversation and waited to complete it when it suited her. The transformation only took seconds, blonde curls morphing into spiraling jet black tresses. The bifocals disappeared to give him a clear view of her, now piercingly green eyes. Her clothing changed from something akin to a PTA meeting into one more at home at a metal concert. The white tank top exposed her tendril tattoo that was shifting ever so subtly across her shoulders.
She saw Maggie sit down hard on the chair next to her father, her hand to her mouth in stunned amazement. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
Iris grinned at her father, “Hi Dad.”
He reached his hand across the table, his eyes blinking in shock, but a relieved soft smile crossed his lips as he took her hand, “Welcome home, sweetheart.”
The End...for now….
Think of the power you have right now.
I’m not above begging…this writing thing is hard and scary and I want to get better at it.
This is the part where I ask you for a review for ‘Annika. Crazy, right?
If everyone that reads this book wrote a quick review, I’d be able to publish my next book a little faster, sales go up, there is rejoicing in the kingdom.
But they don’t… In truth, it’s the hardest part of this creative process.
Too busy, too much time, Don’t know what to say, etc. I understand completely.
But what if just YOU, and maybe three or four other awesome fans leave reviews?
I would be So grateful!
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You’re the ones I’m writing for anyway.
Thank you,
Lizzie
Visit my website excerpts for works in progress and to leave a note on ideas or comments for my work.
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