by Ainsley Shay
“I might be able to bring back my mom.”
He took a sharp inhale of breath. “You know how?”
“Yes, we had to bring Snow back. And, it worked.” I knew he was thinking of his wife. There was nothing we could do if we couldn’t find her.
“Why aren’t you there now?” he asked.
I didn’t have an answer for him. The fear of her not coming back terrified me. I was scared and full of anxious energy. “Tomorrow, I think.”
Mr. Yves nodded and smiled. “Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and rest? I’ll be here if you need me.” He went to the ancient register and opened the cash drawer. He returned with a key. “Here’s an extra key to the apartment.”
“Thank you.” I took the key. The thought of scrubbing Skelside off my skin with a wire brush sounded like the best idea I’d had in a long time.
We said our goodbyes to Mr. Yves. Chandler hugged me and said he’d call later. Blacwin and I went upstairs and I unlocked the door. The small studio was exactly as I had left it, the only difference was my mess of strewn clothes and unmade bed were in color.
Blacwin took my hand and pulled me to him. He brushed his lips against mine and grinned. His eyes echoed the softness of his mouth. “Do you know how amazing you are?” he asked. I hoped he wasn’t expecting an answer, it’s not like I could say one way or the other. His smiled widened and the dimple on his left cheek revealed itself.
“Do you know how amazing you are?” I mimicked.
“There was a time when all I thought about was this exact moment. The moment when the curse, Skelside, witches, and fallen angels would be behind us, and I would be standing here—”
“In this exact apartment?” I broke in.
“Actually, I pictured us in a meadow, or sometimes under a waterfall.”
“I’m liking the image of the waterfall—I’m sorry, continue.”
He pulled me tighter to him. “All of the things and everyone who had control of our lives are no more, and it’s only you and me in this world to live happily ever after.”
“Happily ever after, huh?”
“Just like every movie when the guy gets the girl.” I laughed, and laid my head against his chest. “You definitely got the girl.” His arms were wrapped so firmly around me. I looked at him. “This girl is going to take a shower so she can be worthy of the prince who rescued her.”
“I think it’s the other way around.”
“Details.”
He released me and I went into the bathroom and closed the door. The mirror caught my attention. For the first time, I studied the way I looked to everyone else; I saw me for the first time. My hair was light, almost white, with dark roots. Dark, long lashes framed my eyes. They were the same as the silver necklace around my neck and exactly like Chandler’s. My skin was lighter than Snow’s or Blacwin’s. It was paler and very similar to Chandler’s; which made perfect sense.
A knock on the door jarred me. “Baby, you okay?”
I huffed out a laugh. “I’m fine.” I cracked opened the door.
“The water hadn’t turned on. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“This may sound conceited, but I was staring at myself in the mirror.” I felt my cheeks warm and flush as I looked at the floor and winced.
Blacwin tilted my chin up to look at him. His voice was sultry and matter of fact. “You’re beautiful. In color or in a world of gray, you’re perfect.” He gave me a chaste kiss and turned away, releasing me from his powerful gaze. I closed the door and took a shower.
I wasn’t sure how long it was until I felt every germ of my past had washed off of me. And, I hoped I had left hot water for Blacwin when he took a shower after me. I sat on the bed. Blacwin said my comforter was the color of eggshells with an ocean green pattern. I liked it very much. I took the journal I had started, all those months ago, out of my nightstand. The cover was a worn brown, I think. I flipped through the entries. So many of the nightmares I had made perfect sense now. Catherine and I were one. One soul who had lived numerous lives in order to commit one murder, and to reconnect with one true love.
I closed the journal. My backpack lay on the armrest of the couch. I set the journal down and pulled my legs to my chest.
Tomorrow, I thought.
“Tomorrow,” I whispered.
27
On the way to Adelina’s house, I wondered what my mom would look like. Would she be as young as when she was turned into a statue, or would she be aged like she would have if she had not been turned? My nervous leg bounced without me realizing it, until Blacwin placed his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”
“Are you apologizing to me? Cause if you are, I’m seriously going to ignore you.”
I laughed. “Yeah... I guess I was.”
We turned onto what used to be Adelina’s dirt drive. The chain to keep out unwanted visitors was buried in the dirt. Blacwin drove over the links and down the drive toward the house. I had never been so nervous in my entire life. I wanted to run away and hide behind the trees in the woods, near the abandoned house. Blacwin put his Jeep in park, glanced over at me, and squeezed my hand. The queasiness in my stomach was almost more than I could handle and I wanted to vomit.
“Iris, you can do this.”
“I know,” I said, in a voice that sounded much smaller than my own.
Blacwin opened his door and got out. I stayed in the silence and protection of the Jeep until he opened my door. Glancing down I saw my backpack in his hand. Tires crunching on rubble drew my attention to the main road. Chandler’s Porsche, which I now realized was a bright red, came toward us. I saw Mr. Yves in the passenger seat and Snow in the back seat, and exhaled the breath I was holding. I needed them more than I had ever needed them before. Snow was out of the car before Mr. Yves, and by my side in an instant. I saw Chandler give Blacwin a look before he hugged me. I didn’t like what I saw in his eyes. He wondered if I was crazy, thinking this would actually work. As Mr. Yves approached he must have seen the tension in my face because he offered me a confident nod. I saw a newspaper clipping in his hand and knew it was the story when Miss Rosy disappeared. I closed my eyes and wished there was something I could do.
Blacwin took my hand. “Come on.”
My God, the thought of bringing back my mom was overwhelming. I was nervous to meet her. I was filled with living tremors it wouldn’t work. I was eroding from the inside out—I would fail.
I would be devastated if I couldn’t do it.
Snow must have seen the desperation in my eyes. “This will work. You brought me back.”
“You were only cursed for a few weeks. My mom has been a statue for almost two decades.”
“It has to work,” she said.
The sun was finally kissing the earth. I walked to the backyard, through the gate, to the corner of the garden. There stood my mom and the little girl who held out her hand, begging for her mother. I walked up to my mom. Blacwin had set the backpack with the supplies next to my feet. Snow was the one who was brave enough to open the bag and get the carving knife and vial of the Carving Witch’s blood. She held them out to me like I was the doctor in a surgical room. I took them and closed my eyes. Feeling a warm hand on my lower back I knew Blacwin had come to stand next to me. I handed the vial of blood to him. He removed the cork and held it out to me.
With the carving knife in my hand, the statue of my mom in front of me, I took a deep breath. All I had to do was dip the point of the knife into the vial and stab the stone my mom was encased in. Just like I had done with Snow. It all felt so surreal. Even as I thought it, the act wasn’t hard—it only felt impossible. I felt every groove of the hilt in my hand. I let out the breath I held and closed my eyes. Calm settled over me as I dipped the tip of the carving knife into the vial of Adelina’s blood.
The morning sun glared off the blade as I held it high over my head. A final thought fluttered into my head... what if it works?
Inhale...
/>
Exhale...
Inhale...
I stabbed the blade into the alabaster stone. Nothing happened for a long moment.
Nothing...
My heart sped up to a pace it had never been before.
Nothing...
The pounding in my chest was painful.
Nothing...
Then...
The edges of the harsh stone began to fall away. My mom’s arm reached out as if grabbing for something in the fridge.
We watched in amazement as my mom came into existence. I watched her stretch and move her arms in a wave of motions. When all the stone had disappeared, she opened her eyes and stared at us like the strangers we were. Then, her gaze settled on me.
It seemed like forever before she spoke. “Iris,” she croaked.
My voice was caught in a web in the center of my throat. She looked like she did in the pictures, when she had held me as a baby in her arms. That had been a lifetime ago. I stared into her light eyes that I think were considered to be in the blue family. “Mom.”
On shaky legs, she stepped over the child at her feet and took two steps to stand in front of me. Her weakened arms fell onto my shoulders. I threw my arms around her waist and cried in amazed wonder and brilliance of a spell I had no control over, but somehow had broken. “You’re really here,” I sobbed into her shoulder as we held each other in a garden that had been like a prison for so many others.
When my mom pulled away, I searched her face for anything I recognized when she was alive. It was her eyes, they were like no color I had ever seen before. “I...” I didn’t know what to say. “I’ve missed you.” My mom, who had been in my life long enough to give birth to me and raise me until she was stolen away by the Carving Witch when I was two, held me.
“Me, too, my rainbow, more than you know.”
I cried more than I had cried since my dad had been killed. The difference, these were tears of joy, lost, found, love, and reunion all in one waterfall of emotion.
Mr. Yves came to stand next to me. My mom immediately recognized him. The joy when they hugged was easily felt in our small group.
I heard sniffles behind me and when I turned around, I saw Snow. Chandler’s arm was around her waist and her face was buried in the crook of his arm. “Mom,” I said in a hoarse whisper. I pulled Snow away from my brother. Black streaks of eyeliner and mascara ran down her cheeks. “This is Morgan Snowhill, otherwise known as Snow, my best friend.”
My mom held out her arms and embraced Snow. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Snow.”
“Me, too, Ms. Thorn.”
My mom pulled back from Snow, “Call me, Gemma.”
I reached for Blacwin’s hand. He came and stood next to me. “Mom, this is Blacwin.”
“What an interesting name, Blacwin... your last name must be either quite boring or as intriguing as your first.”
“It’s actually just Blacwin.”
My mom nodded. “Okay then.”
“Mom,” she looked at me, “Blacwin is... very important to me,” I stuttered.
She cupped my cheek. “I kind of figured that out by the way he looks at you, love.”
Blushing, I glanced over my shoulder at him. Blacwin shrugged and smiled.
Lastly, and the most complicated, I tugged Chandler next to me. “And, this is my long lost brother.”
Perplexed, my mom looked like she had just tasted something for the first time. “Nice to me you, Chandler.” She hugged him as if she were the one to give birth to him.
“Mom, there’s so much I need to show and explain to you. It’s all so complicated. I mean, only recently, like two days ago, I finally overcame it all and was able to start a life I could live.”
My mom wrapped her arms around me. “And, I can’t wait to hear every detail and to start being a part of it.”
I let out a breath. “Mom, do you know what happened to you?”
She nodded. “The Carving Witch likes having her way.”
“Liked, past tense,” Chandler said.
She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
All of the emotions that had plagued me began to dissolve. Revived feelings of a new beginning of my life as a whole had begun to take shape. I glanced at Chandler. Our light eyes read one another’s with an understanding no one else could comprehend. He nodded, and the small gesture was all I needed.
“Mom, can you stand there?” I gestured for her to stand next to Chandler.
I smiled as I dipped the tip of the carving knife into the vial of blood once more. I glanced at Blacwin and Snow. I saw the tears still trailing down her face. They were tears of happiness and relief like mine. My hand shook as I held the knife above the statue of Carina’s daughter. As I brought the blade down, my hand jerked as it hit the stone.
Moments passed before the sweet voice of a child said, “Momma,” as she looked at my mother.
28
The little girl wrapped her small arms around my mother’s legs. “Momma,” she said again. My mom didn’t look like Carina. But I didn’t know how long ago Adelina had turned her niece into a statue.
My mom bent and picked her up. “Her name is Evie,” I said. “It may be short for Evangeline.”
Chandler had said the first time he saw Carina’s daughter was long ago. Then, the next time he saw her, her daughter had already been turned. By the looks of her clothes, she was turned in the 1900’s. But, we would never know for sure.
I went to stand next to my mom and Evie. “Mom, I couldn’t leave her like that.”
My mom touched my cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
The little girl held tightly onto my mom. She looked around at the rest of us. Evie held out her hand to Chandler and waved.
“Hi,” he said and waved back.
“Do you think she recognizes you?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
I put the knife and vial of blood in the backpack that Blacwin held open.
“Let’s get out of here,” Chandler said.
“Not yet,” I said as I glanced at the newspaper clipping in Mr. Yves hand. I reached for it. Without understanding, he gave it to me. I turned to Blacwin. “You have spent the most time in this place.” I handed him the clipping. “Have you ever seen a statue that looks like her?”
Blacwin looked at the clipping. I glanced at Mr. Yves. His face was a mixture of a thousand expressions.
“Iris, can I talk to you for a minute,” Blacwin glanced around at everyone, “alone?”
“Sure.”
I followed him out of the backyard, back to the gravel driveway. “What’s going on.”
He didn’t say anything as we he climbed the rickety wooden steps. He stopped at the door and I heard him inhale deeply as he turned the handle. The door creaked as it opened inward. Blacwin closed the door behind us.
“Blacwin, what is it?”
He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. When he looked at me, there was something in his eyes, I wasn’t sure I understood or liked. “I have seen this woman—”
“Where? Is she here?”
Reluctantly, he nodded.
“Show me!”
“When I saw her last, she was in one of the bedrooms. I moved her into the closet because I couldn’t look at her... her face it was—”
“What?”
“Awful. It was filled with so much pain. There was nothing I could do. I felt guilty, but...”
“You don’t have to explain.” I took his hand. “Show me where she is so we can take all that pain away.”
He led me down the narrow hall. We stopped in front of a closed door. Blacwin squeezed my hand as he looked down at me. He opened the door. The room was dank and musty. I opened the blinds, bright sunlight filled the room and reflected off the floating dust. The door to the closet was closed. It was my turn to take a deep breath. I held the tight bubble of air in my chest as I pulled open the accordion closet door. There stood Miss Rosy. My breath
whooshed from my lungs in an audible exhale. I couldn’t believe she was right in front of me. I understood why Blacwin had put her here. Her face was frozen in terror and agony.
Blacwin came to stand next to me. I took the carving knife and the vial of blood out of the backpack. For all the love and goodness this woman ever showed me, I pleaded with the universe to let me perform my third miracle of the day. I took out the cork, handed it to Blacwin, and dipped the tip of the knife into the vial. Saying a silent prayer, I stabbed the pale alabaster. Flashing moments of dread and hope passed before the stone began to turn to flesh. I let out a shrilled cry of disbelief and joy.
Miss Rosy’s pained face softened. Disoriented, she looked around the room.
“Hi Miss Rosy, it’s me—”
Her gaze settled on me. She put her hand on my cheek. Her dry lips curved into a smile. “I know exactly who you are, dear.”
I took her hand, and guided her out of the closet and into the room. I felt her cool skin warm as she hugged me.
“This is Blacwin.”
Her gaze passed to each of us. “To both of you, you’ll never know what this means to me.”
I Looked at Blacwin. “Let’s get out of here.”
I put the knife in the backpack. Took the cork from Blacwin, replaced it over the vial of blood and returned it to the backpack, too.
When we came out of the house, everyone had moved from the backyard to the front, near the cars. Chandler and Snow leaned against his car, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. My mom held Evie and was pacing with Mr. Yves. His steps were agitated and impatient. Blacwin held open the door and the three of us stepped out onto the porch. Mr. Yves stopped but didn’t look up. We walked the few steps to the creaking stairs.
Slowly, Mr. Yves tilted his head toward us. He held his hand up to block the sun that was peeking up behind us. Miss Rosy’s hand slipped from mine as she headed down the steps toward her husband. Mr. Yves eyes filled with sheer bewilderment. In the few seconds he studied his wife, his features erupted into pure happiness. “Dear God, magic is real.” He took her hand and embraced her.