by Ainsley Shay
My wine almost dribbled from my lips. I hadn’t received a gift since I was five. It had been a blanket from a wealthy family my mother had dries lavender for on occasion. “My Lord, I don’t deserve—”
“Don’t question me child.” He handed a guard a small object and motioned for him to give the item to me. As the guard approached me, I held out my hand.
“Go ahead,” said the Lord, “unwrap it.”
I removed the cloth to reveal the most exquisite medallion. An intricate gold design surrounded a Mother of Pearl center. A carving knife was carved into the polished surface. “My Lord, its beautiful.”
“That it is.”
He had given me a gift. The need to want more grew even stronger than it had been. I wanted more, needed more. And, if he was impressed with spells, as simple as lifting furniture off the ground or making one’s eyesight disappear to give me gifts, then turning someone into stone would surely get me what I wanted.
After I was escorted back to my room, I turned the medallion over to the smooth plain finish. I took out my carving knife. With the gleaming and deadly tip, I carved wings into the milky white surface. Turning the medallion over, Lord Darenfys and I were
It was a half hour later when I came out of the bathroom. I had the journal wrapped in a towel. Chandler was sitting upright and doing something on his phone.
“I don’t understand what takes you so long in there. You can’t be doing your hair; that should only take a maximum of fifteen seconds.”
“I beg you to shut your face—it’s way too early in the morning to hear your rants.” I plugged in my ear buds to drown out his griping. He got up and went into the bathroom. Having only one bathroom, proved to be difficult at times.
I saw him come out of the bathroom; his lips were moving but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I moved so my back was to him.
He tapped me on the shoulder and pulled out one of the buds. “Are you going to the bookshop? ’Cause I have a few things I need to take care of.”
I hated when my life seemed to revolve around his schedule. Most times, like this one, I wanted to move a little slower just to piss him off. For me, it hadn’t mattered what time I got to the bookshop. In fact, just to grind on his nerves, I was going to make a stop at the cafe and then the vintage store to see Marley. It had been weeks since I’d seen her. Mr. Yves was making more of an appearance at her store than I was. Sad. Even worse, he was probably more up to date on the in-style fashions.
Dana must have seen me crossing the street with Chandler in tow because when I opened the door to the café she had my coffee ready. She handed it to me, along with a paper bag. I had no idea what was in the bag, but I knew it had to be delicious. With coffee and treat in hand, I left Chandler at the café to get his own coffee and went to see if Marley had opened yet.
The ‘closed’ sign was on the vintage store’s window. I knocked on the glass door. Marley peeked out from the back room. When she saw me, her smile was in harmony with the way I felt. It had been too long since I’d seen her. She was two years older than me, but we clicked since the first day we had met in photography class.
She unlocked the door, and pulled me into a hug. “Girl...where have you been?”
“If I told you, you’d have me Baker-Acted. So, let’s just say I’ve been busy.”
“Fair enough.” Because the shop didn’t open for few minutes, she started to lock the door.
“Do you mind keeping it unlocked, Chandler will be showing up any second.”
“Ooohhh...” She made a kissy face. “Is he the new love of your life?”
“He’s actually my long lost brother.”
She scrunched her nose. “Okay, rewind and delete the kissy face.”
“Done,” I said and laughed.
“That sounds like an interesting story.”
“You have no idea.” As I glanced around the store and my eyes were soaking up all kinds of happy. The stuff they sold came from all over the state: estate sales, donations, and garage sales. The owner of the shop and Mr. Yves were close because our books came from many of the same places.
“I’ve seen more of Mr. Yves than you lately. He’s in here at least once a week; not only to see what estates sales are coming up, but as an actual customer.”
“I know. The chair he got from you guys is perfect for the bookshop. And the beret—how did you get him to wear anything other than a solid color?”
Marley blew on her knuckles and rubbed them on her sleeve. “I got my ways.”
I followed her through the store. “You have got in some very cool things.” I touched a taffeta skirt, tried on a pearl necklace with a giant flower pendant, and slipped on sunglasses that looked to have been from the sixties. “This stuff is so great!”
“I know. The last few drop offs and estate sales have been from the Upper East Side.” We laughed because we didn’t have an upper east side. “I’m surprised it looks so stocked, I think most of the stuff that’s come in lately is in my closet.”
I gave her an appraising once over. “My closet could definitely use a pick me up.” A baby doll dress, printed with tiny flowers was on a mannequin atop the clothes racks. I pointed at it. “And that will be the perfect start.”
She took the mannequin down and undressed it. “The only reason this dress is still here is because my closet is already bursting.”
I looked at the price, $15.00. “I have to have it.” I helped her pick out another dress for the mannequin and fix the display.
We walked to the checkout desk. As I laid the dress on top of the glass counter, my attention shifted to the items in the display below. There was an array of gaudy necklaces and clunky costume jewelry. Next to a string of pearls was a medallion. A carving knife was engraved on its light surface. A peculiar sense of familiarity spread over me. I was drawn to the unique piece. The feeling was raw and burst with a life all its own. I asked Marley if I could see it.
She unlocked the case and handed it to me. “Cool, isn’t it?”
Her voice was far away. I found myself unable to answer. The medallion was heavier than I expected. The odd, fragmented sensation caused chills to travel the length of my arms and the back of my neck. “Yeah, it’s cool.” I said under my breath when I found my voice. “Where did it come from?” I turned the medallion over in my hand. Wings were carved into the milky surface. I gasped.
Mesmerized by the intricate design, I hadn’t heard the door to the store open.
Marley slipped by me. “You must be Chandler.”
“I am. And you must be Marley.”
“That’s me. Nice to meet you.”
“What’s consuming all of your attention over—what the—?” Chandler was looking over my shoulder. “Where’d you get that?”
“There.” I pointed to the display case.
“Is it hers?” he asked.
“It has to be.”
“Whose?’ asked Marley.
Chandler was quicker than I was when it came to fabricating a complex lie. “Our Aunt Nora. Uncle Charles had brought her a medallion that looked just like that when he was on a trip overseas.” I glanced over my shoulder at him, but he ignored me. “How much is it?”
Marley reached over the counter and looked at the small tag hanging on a string from the medallion. “$29.99.”
“We’ll take it.” Chandler was already taking out his wallet.
I slid the dress to her. “Add this to it please.”
“What the—”
“Thank you,” I said as I stared at the medallion. Doubt and disbelief were crushing my hopes it was Adelina’s. “What if it’s not hers?”
He handed Marley some cash. “Then I just bought you a piece of junk, along with a dress.”
“You’re so thoughtful.”
“I know.”
Marley wrapped the medallion in a piece of tissue paper, slid it in a bag with the dress, and handed it to me. “Happy day.” We said our goodbyes, and I promised her I’d stop in
more often, like I used to.
When we were outside on the sidewalk, I said, “So, let me guess...your exciting plans for the day include sitting in the club chair in the center of the bookshop stalking me?”
“Something like that.” He took the bag from me. “I don’t believe a piece like that was part of a mass production and distribution.”
I agreed. “Do you think it could be Adelina’s?”
“I’d say there’s a good chance it is,” he said.
I took a sip of coffee. “If it is hers, what baffles me is the fact it was in a second hand store. So, that leads to questions like: Why was it there? Why do I feel such a strong connection to it? How did it get there? Where’s Adelina?”
Yves Antique Pages was just opening when we arrived. Mr. Yves held the door open for Chandler and me. “Good morning,” I said and gave Mr. Yves a kiss on the cheek.
“Good morning, kids.”
“I’ve never seen it before in my nightmares, but I think I was meant to be the one to find it,” I said.
“What are you two talking about?” I took out the medallion and showed it to Mr. Yves. “That’s a unique piece.” Mr. Yves took the medallion from my hand and turned it over. “A carving knife and wings etched into Mother of Pearl. Interesting and beautiful.” He studied the medallion. “I had only met Adelina deBlays once; rather odd in such a small town, to see a person only one time. But, maybe because it was only the one time that the details of the encounter stand out so much.” He stared at the piece laid out across his palm. “Ms. deBlays had come into the shop one morning. I had opened the shop only minutes before; I’ll never forget it was pouring outside. She inquired if I had any books about statues. I showed her the few we had and she chose one. When she was at the counter paying, she set her bag on the counter and it fell over. Before she caught the spilling contents, a medallion, just like this one, had slid out onto the counter.” He handed the medallion back to me and I wrapped it in the paper.
Chandler and I looked at each other. One question had been answered. Now, I wanted to know what connection did the medallion have to all of this? To me?
18
It took all day to persuade Snow to go with me to Adelina’s house. She had a million excuses, all of which were valid: What if Adelina’s there? What if Carina’s there? What if the door is locked? What if Chandler finds out? What if...What if...What if...I gripped her by the shoulders and simply said, “If you don’t go with me, it’s all right,” threw in a shrug, “I’ll go by myself.” And, that was all it took. I am well aware it was low, but I was desperate and really didn’t want to go there alone.
Chandler knew I’d be with Snow for the two hours of my freedom after school so he rarely took the time to check up on our extra-curricular activities. As soon as the bell rang, we raced across campus to Snow’s car. Out of breath and nerves jumping, we climbed inside.
“How come this feels even freakier than it did the first time we went there?” she asked. “Oh, wait!” Her face brightened with a brilliant thought. “Maybe because now we know all those statues were once walking around, talking, and freaking breathing.”
“Snow, I know what I’m asking you to do is almost out of the realm of best friend duties. But, since we both found out together what Adelina can do, I think it should be you that goes with me.”
Snow scoffed. “Iris baby, you know I love you.” She placed her hand over her heart. “And I have since the day we met. We’ve always been straight with each other,” she held up a finger, “except that time you didn’t tell me about Chandler; but that’s whatever, now. Point is, what you just said was the biggest, fattest, crock of crap you’ve ever told me.”
We both started laughing. She was right, of course. I hadn’t wanted to go alone and I couldn’t ask Chandler. Chandler. At some point, I would have to tell him about the journal and what I’d learned. I just didn’t know when the best time would be. And, the closer we became, I had learned it was all about timing with him. Who was I kidding? There was no good timing for me to spill my guts about this. It had been eleven days since I had the journal. Maybe I should wait to tell him when Blacwin came back, if he came back.
“What’s wrong? You went deathly silent in about zero point three-seconds.”
I couldn’t voice what I was thinking. As stupid as it sounded, I thought if I said it aloud, the universe would somehow make it true. “Nothing. I’m just freaking out a little.”
“Duh—so am I! And, you and I both know that is only a small percentage of what shut you up so fast.”
The fact that Snow knew me so well, and the fact that was she spot on, brought me to admission. “I’m scared Blacwin isn’t coming home.” I almost started to cry, but held back the tears.
“Don’t go there.” She was intently concentrating on the road. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that.”
We were almost to Adelina’s house and I had to get a grip. “Thanks for putting me right. I’m going to shut-up now.” I wiped away the wetness from my cheek.
She pulled into the long dirt drive that led to Adelina’s house. “Yeah, you do that.” Leave it to Snow to reel me from a bad place where I was drowning. The car bounced and dipped as we drove along the uneven drive toward the house. The uninviting porch seemed more ominous than it had the last time we were here.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I admitted.
Snow put the car in park and turned off the engine. “Oh, no, you don’t. We came this far, we’re going in.” She turned to look at me. “Try not to think of them as real people.”
That was going to be impossible. “I’ll try,” I said, when all I could imagine was walking past one of them and it coming back to life and grabbing my arm. Of course, I knew the absurdity of that happening, but the irrational fear was still there.
We climbed out of the car. With Snow in the lead, we started for the porch. The statue of the woman and the little boy were enough to make me do a one-eighty and run back to the car. As I came closer to them, I noticed their faces. Their smiles were carved around and through ones that once grimaced in pain. I thought I was going to be sick. If I called attention to what I saw, I’m not sure what Snow would have done: persevered, or run back to the car. I hoped for the latter, but didn’t get the chance. When I tore my gaze away from the statues, Snow was already inside.
She looked over her shoulder to find me. “Are you coming or what?”
I lingered next to the child statue. How could you have stabbed a child? Bile rose in my throat. I choked out, “Yeah, I’m coming.” Snow waited for me just inside the doorway. I scampered up the steps; holding the railing to steady myself as dizziness swooped over me. Once inside, I put my hands on my knees and took several deep breaths until the faintness subsided.
“I think Carina left you something.” On the hand of the woman’s outstretched palm were several folded news articles. Snow picked them up and handed them to me. I’d wait until we were in the car to read them. I didn’t need anything else to freak me out. “Iris?”
“Yeah?”
“You know, when I was here last time with you, I thought the statues were carved into these incredible pieces; the work of a true sculptor. But the more carefully I look at each of them, it only looks like she carved their faces.” She was studying the face of a man, one I had not noticed before. She continued, “They’re not happy, not truly. I mean really, who would be happy being stabbed? It’s like they were forced to plaster—no pun intended—a smile on their face for the camera.”
We walked through the room, surrounded by stone that had once been alive, but was now frozen in time. “How do you think she got them here?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe she has a do-boy working for her who does all her dirty work.”
“Maybe. Unless she has some spell to move them from wherever she killed them.” The idea of it was sick, but I wouldn’t put it past Adelina. She had gained all kinds of confidence and skills when she was at Skelside, at l
east until Darenfys brushed her off to the side for Catherine. Many times over, I wondered what she had done all those years. And, where was she now? If Adelina was so powerful, why had she disappeared? I hadn’t thought she’d be frightened of anyone, Darenfys or Penemuel, knowing she could turn them into stone with one thrust from her blade.
The questions poured into my head as I ran my hand along the shoulder of a woman. The stone was cool and smooth under the tips of my fingers. Her clothes had been from an earlier time, maybe the 1920’s or 1930’s. Her hair was smoothed back and short like mine. Another woman’s clothes were more recent. She wore jeans and a flowing shirt. Her mouth was open as if she was getting ready to say something. As I looked at her face more carefully, I noticed it wasn’t as disfigured as some of the others.
Snow was on the other side of the room. “Iris, do you think the rumors are true, that she considered these people her family? It seems like even though she was poor, she had a strong family. But after she was cursed, her mom kicked her out. I mean how do you do that to your kid?” She shuddered. “Then, however long she stayed with Darenfys, he turned her away. I mean, with all of the neglect and rejection, she has to be a perfect case for a psychologist. I hate to say it, ’cause she’s obviously sick and she cursed you and all, but I kind of feel bad for her.”
“When you put it like that, maybe she did consider them her family.” The thought of it was sad.
The door behind us burst open. I turned and almost knocked one of the statues over, pulling it back in time to stabilize it. “What are you doing here?” I asked. My heart did summersaults in my chest when I saw who it was.
“Really?” Chandler weaved his way through the living room until he was in my face. “Is this how you’ve been spending your free time; walking right into the den of the enemy?” His light eyes were slits of pure fury. All of his usually cool and smooth features were warped into absolute rage. “Where’s Snow? I’m sure she’s here somewhere.”
Snow peeked out from behind a statue in the far corner of the room. She gave a small wave. “Hi.”