Praxis Novellas, Mosaic Chronicles Book Two

by Andrea Pearson

  He jogged back to Nicole’s unlocked car, where he’d left his backpack, and pulled out the photograph, wanting to keep it with him. Back at the manor, Lizzie assigned him to a window near Nicole. That made him smile—he knew what she was up to, and he was mostly okay with it. As long as Lizzie didn’t put him on the spot again, like at the party the night before.

  He checked the photograph every five minutes, though he wasn’t entirely sure how doing so would help him.

  A few more people showed up, which gave him some confidence. This wouldn’t be difficult if they had enough support. Right?

  Twenty minutes after they got to the manor, another set of curtains on the main floor shut, both in the picture and the real house. Ten minutes later, drapes on the second floor were closed.

  Austin paced, keeping his powers pressing into the manor, wondering if they were making things worse by getting involved. He ignored that thought. Too late now, and he’d rather try to save the baby.

  He started to notice a pattern. The creature—man-thing—was only shutting curtains here and there. It had to be because he wanted privacy. He wanted to be able to get upstairs and back down again without someone watching him from the outside. Austin shook his head, wondering what his brother had seen and why Cody wouldn’t tell him. Apparently, it wasn’t any of this.

  An hour after sundown, the Aretes near Austin jumped in surprise. He barely noticed them—a strong sensation had just flooded over him, pushing against his powers. The warning was impossible to ignore: Leave. Now.

  “It’s almost time!” Austin said to Nicole. “Tell them to start sending the message to leave the family alone.”

  She passed the word to the Aretes around her, and he felt the pulsings around them rise as they increased their magical push, matching the strength of the creature inside.

  He looked at the picture again, using his cell phone for light. By then, he was used to seeing disturbing things, but this time, what he saw actually made him drop the picture.

  Once again the figure was staring out a window at the viewer. At Austin. But this time, he was holding a baby and grinning. The expression was obviously one of triumph. Of having succeeded.

  And Austin realized something. The man didn’t need to take the baby away to do harm—he could murder it right then and there.

  “He’s gonna kill the baby!” Austin yelled. “I’m going inside to stop him.”

  Nicole grabbed his arm. “No!”

  He sidestepped her and flung the window open, ducked under the frame, then turned to face her. “Keep the Aretes going—don’t let them lower their magic. We have him, I know we do.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. Austin turned around, holding his cell phone in front of him, using the flashlight application. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, but then, quietly as he could, followed the marks on the floor. They led him out of the room and across a grand entry to a marble staircase. He didn’t have to see any more of the place to know it had been very beautiful in its prime.

  Austin took the stairs two at a time and turned to the right, following the prints. He sprinted down a hall and to the base of another set of stairs. The traces in the dust led him up to the third floor, and again he followed. They stopped in front of a closed door to at the right.

  Holding his breath, he pressed his ear up against the wood, trying to make out any sounds.

  Nothing.

  He wished he’d brought the photograph—it might have given him a clue as to what was going on inside the room.

  He felt a faint magical vibration originating from within—the man didn’t seem to know Austin was there. Or had he left already, and Austin was confused?

  No. The creature had to be there.

  Deciding there wasn’t anything else he could do, Austin pocketed his cell phone. He turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open.

  It creaked, of course—he’d been expecting that, but he started just the same. He didn’t enter, scanning the space before him. No one was there. The room was obviously a nursery, lit by the pale moonlight, little toys and stuffed animals everywhere. Had no one cleaned up after the baby was kidnapped?

  Austin concentrated on the pulse in the room—he was positive the nursery wasn’t empty. But would he be able to see anything?

  Then he noticed something odd about the drapes—the way they had been lifted up without a sash or tie. It was as if something he couldn’t see kept them there.

  He gasped, realizing the creature was holding them.

  Suddenly they fell. A shape flicked into full view. A beautiful woman turned to face him, holding a sleeping infant in her arms. Her eyes were sad, lonely, and she seemed to stare right through him. But then she looked down at the child, a smile played across her lips, and her features warmed.

  Austin held perfectly still. He was hallucinating—that was the only explanation. People didn’t just appear out of thin air. Maybe the creature was in a different room? He took a step back, hand on the knob.

  The woman looked up at him abruptly, seeming shocked to find him there. Her features contorted, a sneer stretching her lips, her skin changing texture and appearance until instead of the blond from just moments ago, the figure from the photograph was before him. Grotesque, skeletal hands encircled the baby.

  It wasn’t a man who’d kidnapped the infant—it was a woman.

  Austin slammed the door shut, holding it closed as hard as he could. Panic nearly overwhelmed him—his heart beating erratically, his breath coming in gasps. Sweat stung his eyes, dripping down his face.

  The magical push grew stronger and stronger. Was she approaching the door, or just getting angry?

  The knob in his hands started to burn—not with heat, but with magical energy. She was trying to get out. Austin didn’t let go.

  Suddenly, the feeling went away. The pulses retreated—faded. He’d won! He’d actually done it. He breathed a sigh of relief, leaning his forehead against the cool wood.

  But then, Austin felt someone behind him.

  He turned.

  A man stood in the hallway, barely visible, sobbing, holding a book in his hands. His skin was partially rotted—his hair falling out. But there was life in his eyes. “Please, help me. I didn’t know what I was doing! I didn’t mean—didn’t mean it! She won’t forgive—won’t move on.” He took a shuddering breath, and an expression of intense agony crossed his face. “She’s stealing my baby!”

  “I . . . I . . .” What was Austin to say to a man who’d been dead for over a hundred years and was now there, in Britnell Manor, conversing with him? Had Austin completely lost his mind?

  The guy tried to give the book to Austin. “Take it! Please! It’s my diary.”

  Austin hesitated, then accepted the leather-bound journal, putting it in his pocket.

  Relief flooded the man’s features. “Thank you. Oh, thank you.” He pointed at the door. “Keep her inside! She’s still there, waiting. Don’t let her go.”

  Austin nodded and turned his attention back to the nursery. He put his hands on the knob, feeling as the vibrations inside started to increase, the anger behind them boiling up, washing over him. He focused his own powers, matching hers—sending a clear message to leave the baby alone.

  The handle grew hot again, and the pulses became strong. Much, much stronger—more than he could hold on his own. He felt his defenses weakening. What would happen if she broke through his magic? Would it destroy him?

  “How do I stop her?” he asked the man. There wasn’t a response.

  Austin looked down the hall—it was empty.

  He was alone.

  Realization dawned on him. There was no way he’d be able to keep her there by himself. The magic she held was much more powerful than his—she hadn’t started trying yet. He had no idea what he was dealing with, or who she was, really. How stupid it was to come inside alone!

  The throbbing at the door grew to such an intensity that he nearly blacked out. He needed help! He h
ad to get to the others.

  Austin tore his hands from the knob and staggered away, then ran down the steps to the second floor.

  A blast from behind nearly caused him to fall. She was coming!

  Seconds later, he reached the bottom of the next set of stairs. He ran across the marble entryway, into the room with the open window, then lurched out, falling to the porch floor. He whirled on his knees and slammed the window shut. Nicole and Lizzie were there, crying. They threw their arms around him, others watching with concern, but he shook his head.

  “Help me hold her in! She’s coming now! Push with your magic!”

  Austin braced himself mentally, reaching outward with every ounce of his powers, trying to keep the woman inside the house—trying to stop her from stealing the baby. He felt his power strengthen as the others joined him again.

  The force within the manor seemed to grow in might. She tested the edge of the Aretes’ magic, trying to find weak spots. Austin smiled grimly when she pulled back. “That’s right, freak,” he whispered.

  Then she attacked so forcefully that Austin heard several people gasp. A light flashed inside the manor, spinning around and around, faster and faster, making him dizzy. He had to turn away. Without warning, an incredibly powerful wave of magic hit all the Aretes at once.

  They weren’t strong enough.

  A massive blast lifted everyone several feet into the air. They didn’t drop—something held them. Then the windows of the manor exploded outward, glass and wood flying everywhere. The woman, beautiful again, stepped forward, glaring. With a small flick of her hand, she shot the students away.

  Austin felt himself hit the ground. Another magical pulse smacked into him, freezing every muscle in his body. He couldn’t even move his eyes, staring up into the night sky.

  He heard her approach. Saw as she walked past, glaring down at him, a smile on her lips. Her skin changed color and texture, returning to the appearance of the worm-eaten figure from the photograph.

  Then the pressure on him released. He jumped to his feet.

  The others were also getting up, but Austin ignored them, trying to find the woman.

  He saw her then, crawling across the grass, holding something in her right arm. Just as she reached the hole at the edge of the lawn, she turned. He knew she was staring at him again.

  A slight magical vibration washed over him. A hint of arrogance, some pity. But relief. Mostly relief. He got the distinct feeling that she would now be able to rest in peace. As he watched, she lowered herself into the hole, cradling the baby to her chest.

  Austin hadn’t realized it, but Nicole and Lizzie were trying to talk to him. He turned away from the woman, giving them his attention.

  “What happened?” Lizzie asked.

  “I still can’t believe you got out alive!” Nicole stared up at him.

  Austin ran his hand through his hair. “She won.”

  “She did? Oh, no!” Lizzie wailed, but then she frowned. “I noticed it was a woman. Can’t blame us for thinking it was a guy.”

  Austin nodded. “She just crawled back into the hole. Let’s go check it out—make sure everything is over.”

  Nicole put her hand on his arm. “Lead the way.”

  The three friends walked slowly across the grass, following the trampled trail. The closer to the hole they got, the less discernible the path was until finally, it disappeared. And when they arrived where the hole was supposed to be, it wasn’t there. No uneven dirt, no slight bump. Just overgrown vines and grass.

  Austin held his hand over the spot where he was sure the pit had been. What he felt didn’t surprise him so much. That faint trace of violence was still there, but nothing had been touched in many years.

  “It’s over. All of it.” He took a deep breath, incredibly grateful they were alive. If the woman had wanted to, she could have killed them.

  They headed back to the manor where the others were grouping. Austin wasn’t surprised to see that house was back to how it had been the first time they’d come—drapes open, windows shut. No sign that things had exploded when the woman forced her way out.

  Austin picked up the photograph. It was once again a picture of a boring, Victorian-styled manor. He scratched his head, wondering if every single thing had been undone. Then he remembered the journal, and thrust his hand into his pocket. It was there! He pulled it out, turning it in his hands.

  “What’s that?” Lizzie asked.

  He glanced at her. “Mr. Britnell gave it to me while I was inside.”

  Nicole tapped the side of her cheek thoughtfully. “He’s been dead for a hundred years, at least. You’re sure it was him?”

  Austin nodded. He was about to open the leather book, but decided against it. “Let’s get everyone back to the university. The three of us will read this together when the rest have gone home.”

  Nicole turned to talk to the other Aretes, but then she asked Austin, “Should we invite them over for root beer floats or something as a way to say thank you?”

  “That’s an excellent idea. And if anyone has questions, we’ll answer them while we’re at it.”

  Two hours later—well into the night—everyone finally left. They believed Austin’s account of the photograph. Maybe seeing a manor practically explode, then return to normal within a few minutes, was evidence enough.

  Austin and the girls waited until the students had all left before they sat at the counter, crowding around the journal. Austin read it out loud.

  Tom has returned with a huge load of fish. I’m grateful to have him running the company while I care for Elizabeth. She’ll have our third child soon. Hoping it is a boy. Either way, I’m grateful to have so many children!

  Another girl. A third girl! I didn’t realize until today how much I wanted a son. I must have an heir to inherit the fishing company and Britnell Manor. But Elizabeth is tired—she doesn’t want a Fourth. Says their magic is too much to deal with right now. But she’s a Fourth—not sure why the idea is so hard for her.

  Tom has sailed away again. I miss my best friend, but I’m sure he’ll make another lucrative trip for the company.

  Elizabeth is expecting! We’re to have an Arete after all! I’m ecstatic with the possibilities! If only it’s a son with my red hair. Always wished I’d had the power of fire.

  Lizzie laughed. “Power to the redheads!”

  Nicole shushed her and indicated for Austin to continue reading.

  A boy! It’s a boy! Oh, how wondrous! My company and manor are secured! I almost don’t even care what color hair he’ll end up having.

  Little John Jr. does indeed have red hair. And his father’s nose. And chin. Poor child.

  He’s nearing six months, and smiles a lot. The apple of my eye is he! But I’m worried about Elizabeth. She’s been distant lately. Is she ill? She refuses to see a doctor.

  Austin stopped reading, scanning ahead. “Oh, that’s not good.”

  “What?” Lizzie asked.

  “Listen.”

  My heart has been ripped from my chest! My soul burns within me. So full of anger. And the pain! Elizabeth and Tom . . . I can’t even pen what I know they’ve done.

  “Oh, how awful!” Nicole said. “Poor Mr. Britnell!”

  Austin nodded, then continued reading.

  It’s been over a year since I last looked upon this diary. Doc says I’m close to dying, and it seems right, after all that has happened. All that I’ve kept inside me, until now.

  I killed Elizabeth.

  It wasn’t on purpose. I pushed her away when she asked—no, begged—for forgiveness. She fell down her beloved marble stairs and hit her head, then didn’t wake up.

  It was evening—the servants all in bed. Without telling anyone, I buried her on the edge of the property.

  Tom ran the morning she died, after I confronted him. No one has heard from him. The people of Seattle suspect he kidnapped or killed Elizabeth. They won’t ever know the truth.

  And it still burns
my soul with grief and pain to write it, but two days after Elizabeth’s death, my beautiful son was taken from me while he slept in his nursery. My poor, poor son. How I miss him! How I miss Elizabeth. I wish I could hold her in my arms—give her the forgiveness she sought.

  “Whoa,” Lizzie said. “A ghost kidnapped the baby!”

  “It wasn’t a ghost.” Austin shook his head. “What we saw definitely wasn’t that—it was Elizabeth, in her real body.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Austin and Nicole agreed with Lizzie, then Nicole frowned, looking at Austin. “But why did Mr. Britnell want you to have the journal?”

  Austin didn’t respond at first. He had no idea. “Maybe he hoped I’d be able to contact her, let her know that he didn’t mean to kill her?”

  Lizzie tucked a thick strand of red curls behind her ear. “Yes—that must have been it.” She sighed in exasperation. “I’m just annoyed that after everything we did, she still got the baby. I tried so hard to stop her—we all did—and we still failed! I hate feeling powerless.”

  Austin rubbed his eyes—the exhaustion was really catching up with him. “Same, and it was humbling. I don’t think we alone could have made a dent. When she blasted us away from the manor, I felt just a little of her abilities and the vastness behind them. She was toying with us.”

  “Either way,” Lizzie said, “over a hundred years have passed. It’s gotta be too late to try to make things right for Mr. Britnell.”

  Austin nodded. “It might be. I’ll watch the picture. When it starts the cycle over again, I’ll go back to the manor to talk to her.”

  “And we’ll come,” Nicole said, smiling at him.

  He said goodbye to the girls, then took the picture and journal to his room and placed both on his desk where he’d be able to see them every day.

  But the photograph never changed again.

  ###

  The Angel

  A Mosaic Chronicles Novelette