by Calinda B
“It would be my pleasure! Please, stop by. Can you come over tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow would be perfect.” Her boss could be seen through the window glare, tapping her watch, her eyes aimed at Marissa. “I’ve got your address.”
“Same old, same old.”
“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it, mija.”
“Me, too. Bye.” She tapped the end icon and raced into the office, eager for this day to be over.
Chapter 8
When Marissa parked in front of Diego Perona’s jewelry store the next day, it brought back a flood of memories. She hadn’t been back here since her youngest sister Jill had become engaged, and before that, she hadn’t stepped through these doors since her parents had died. She’d always liked the man. He’d given her chocolates as a small child and let her sit in his lap when he was making jewelry.
Stepping from the car, she delicately retrieved the silk-lined box she’d placed the stones in, careful to not touch the diamond. No sense alerting Daniel…assuming the thought communication thing wasn’t a trick, that is.
The front door bells tinkled and chimed same as always. The ribbon-suspended brass bells were probably the same ones that had always festooned this door. A dapper, suit clad Mr. Perona stepped out of the back room, his face expectant. Marissa’s face split wide in a grin when she saw him.
“Marissa! It’s such a pleasure to see you.” His face-splitting smile mirrored hers.
“Same here, Mr. Perona.”
“Call me Diego. You’re a grown woman now. The time for formality is over.” He stepped up to her and enveloped her in a huge bear hug. “Let me look at you, mija.” He extended his arms, still clasping her shoulders. “Beautiful! You are quite breathtaking. You look like your mama with your papa’s eyes. But you have a distinction that is neither of them.”
She blushed, recalling Crazy Betty’s words that she’d get her own face this year. “You look good, too, Mr. … I mean Diego.” She cast her eyes to her feet and then back to him. His face was lined with wrinkles, his hair was dusted with gray, but there was still handsome elegance to his features. “You’ve hardly aged a day.”
“Oh!” he said, putting his arm around her and leading her into the back room. “How you flatter me. I’ve certainly grown older. Ask these bones and joints of mine.” Entering his client consultation room, he pointed to a chair in front of a large, impressive desk of carved walnut. “Sit, mija. Show me the gemstones.”
Marissa placed the box on the desk and removed the top. She glanced around at the room fondly, remembering all the times she’d sat in her mother’s lap, listening to them discuss designs, settings, and gems for her mother’s endless appearances. He’d let her finger the fine stones as if they were mere toys. She supposed he hadn’t let her touch the expensive ones.
She gently unfolded the scarf edges to reveal the contents of the box.
Diego’s eyes widened as he gazed at the stones. “May I?” he asked her.
She nodded.
He took the golden orb out and held it up to his eye. “Nice specimen. This is yellow Jasper. It comes from South Africa and is said to be a very grounding stone. It induces power in the wearer and is also said to relieve pain and suffering.” His fingers reached for the sparkling red gem and a gasp left his mouth.
“Is that a garnet?”
“No, mija. It’s appears to be a red diamond.”
“I thought diamonds were clear.”
“The normal ones are. If I’m right, this one is an extremely rare find – extremely rare. There are only 50 known reds in the world. These come from Australia and Brazil. This one is incredible. Look at it – see the lack of imperfections?”
Marissa nodded.
“That’s called ‘eye clean.’ A stone this size and this clean would bring a hefty price on the black market – a fortune. Where did you say you got these?”
“Um, a friend gave them to me.”
“A very good friend, I should think.” He reached for a magnifying glass and fitted it over his head. Holding the red gem up to the lens, he turned it back and forth. “A beauty…”
“My friend collects beautiful things.”
Diego lifted up the lens, gave her a piercing stare, and said, “I can see that.” Then he got back to his examination. When he seemed satisfied, he placed it back in the box. He pivoted and strode to a nearby bookshelf, scanned it, and pulled a large volume from the shelf. When he had placed it on the desk, he flipped to a section of the book, whipped out his reading glasses, and read. “Yes, that’s what I remember. The red diamond is a rare and precious stone of vitality, self-awareness, and energy. It awakens the kundalini energy and inspires love, devotion, and passion.”
Want. Marissa inhaled sharply as her whole body flooded with sensation. Jason had schooled her in the power of kundalini often performing rituals he called pujas with her. She found them rather lame, but he’d insisted that she was a natural at channeling kundalini.
Diego peered over his reading glasses at her, and a lightning bolt of something indiscernible skittered across his face. “Let’s take a look at the next one.” His skilled fingers plucked the next red gem from its resting place. “Gorgeous,” he breathed, putting the jeweler’s lens in place. “Simply exquisite. Do you know what you’ve got here?”
Marissa shook her head, feeling a quiver of excitement.
“This, mija, is a Burma Ruby, one of the rarest in the world. Look at this color…it’s called pigeon blood red. It’s extremely rare to find a stone of this quality and size. And it’s eye clean as well. This beauty is worth a lot.”
Marissa’s cheeks were hot with color. Daniel had placed a treasure’s worth of gemstones in the bottom of a vase of flowers. Anyone – the delivery guy, the florist, one of her co-workers – could have stolen the gems, and she’d be none the wiser. “What does it mean? It’s significance, I mean.”
“Well,” he said, flipping the pages of the well-worn book. “The ruby in general is a stone that evokes passion and creativity. It is said to increase ones strength and courage as well. I used to place these stones into the designs I made for your mother to protect…I mean, to present her to the public.” His eyes looked intently at the desk. “But never one as fine as this…”
Marissa’s eyes narrowed. Had he almost said that he made designs to protect her? “You made some exquisite pieces for her. Many of them were lost in the plane crash.”
His head snapped up and that flicker of something imperceptible shadowed his face again.
What’s he hiding?
Diego pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed at his face. “Yes, it’s a pity they were never recovered.”
“Yes, it was,” Marissa agreed. She waited for him to offer up something more, but he deftly moved forward in the conversation.
“Lapis lazuli, I should think,” he said smoothly, plucking the blue orb from the silken nest. “But such precious lapis lazuli. See the color, mija?”
She squinted at the deep, midnight blue sphere, flecked with gold.
“See how dark it is? It can only come from Afghanistan. This piece is incredible.” He took the lenses from his head and regarded her thoughtfully. “How well did you say you knew this friend?”
“Not well.” Marissa lowered her eyes to the box of gems. “We just met.”
“Well, he’s trying to impress the hell out of you, mija. Either that or he wants to convey a message of some kind.”
“I think it’s the latter.” She squirmed in her seat and avoided eye contact.
“And what kind of message does he want to convey?”
“He thinks I have some kind of special abilities.”
“Does he now?” Diego’s fingers thrummed the desk. He picked up the lapis lazuli again and regarded it thoughtfully. “Of what kind?”
“Of the magical kind,” she blurted. “He says I am a bottomless well of light and magic…and something called a Light
Rebel.” She did a face-plant on the desk. She wanted to scream. Why am I so compulsive about speaking? Her mother’s dear friend would think she’d gone off the deep end for sure. She refused to lift her head from the desk. Maybe he would get up and walk away, and she could slink out the building. A lengthy silence stretched between them marked by the steady tick of the old fashioned clock on the wall. Marissa focused on her breath. In and out…in and out…in and out…
Diego’s voice punctuated the silence. “I think there is something you should know, mija.”
“What?” she mumbled into the desk.
“Should I continue to tell this to the back of your head? I’d prefer speaking to the front.”
She pictured him smiling so she gathered courage and sat up in her seat.
“Your mother was a trained Light Diva – she was highly skilled in light magic.”
The statement shot through her like it had been fired from a high powered rifle. “What?”
“What I just said. Your mother was a powerful Light Diva. She was a sought-after healer as well. Her vocal career was her cover. She traveled the world to sing and to heal. She trained to allow electrical impulses to flow from her throat while she sang. She could focus the impulses on the body or mind and profound healing would occur. Her best work was done in war torn regions or places of extreme conflict. She could promote change through song. It was remarkable, really. No one knew what hit them.” He chuckled.
Marissa flung back her head back, let her mouth fall open, and stared at the ceiling. She could not believe her ears. She lifted her head, stared at the bookshelf, and slowly shook her head back and forth, back and forth, trying to make sense of what she had just been told. Finally, she stood up and paced around the room. “Did my father know?”
“Yes.”
“My sisters?”
“Yes.”
“And everyone kept this from me why, exactly?”
Diego spoke gently, as if she was a wild filly ready to buck and bolt. “You were a child, mija. Your sisters claimed it was just superstition. They chose not to believe.”
Marissa nodded. Her sisters, seven and nine years older than her, always possessed a practical, pragmatic side to them. She was considered the wild hair of the family. She was the creative.
“But it’s presumed that your mother didn’t simply die in a tragic plane crash. Otherwise the jewelry would have been recovered. We think it was stolen to be used for magic. We also think that the crash was the result of powerful spells. Your mother was going down to Central America for a reason.”
“And what reason was that?”
“Your mother and father had been told that you would come into your significant powers in your late 20s.”
Marissa’s eyes whipped up to meet his. “What significant powers? What are you talking about?”
“A sign had been given when you were born.”
“What sign? What are you talking about?” Her fingers clutched the edge of the desk. She pried her fingers loose and placed them in her lap.
“Your mother had been travelling late into her pregnancy with you – something she was advised against. She was a willful one, your mother.” He removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “She accommodated the doctor’s requests by travelling with a midwife.” He chuckled. “Your mother’s doctor was outraged by that, but what could he do? Your father, mother, and a few close companions were on the island of Madagascar when she went into labor. It was early for her to give birth to you, but you were ready to be born. Perhaps you liked that island. It’s a magical place.” He smiled at her. “Anyway, they hustled your mama to the home of her travel guide and there you were born. You came out rather quickly, mija.” Again, he smiled at her.
“What was the sign? Besides being born on an island somewhere.”
“The story is quite remarkable. The guide lived in a modest home cut into the side of a hill in the jungle.” He chuckled. “I guess it was quite a sight to see your mother brushing aside the assistance of the men as she climbed the trail to the house, stopping to lean against a tree when a contraction came – she was very stubborn, she was.
The windows of this home were all flung open wide to let a breeze flow through. It was quite hot and your mother insisted that every window be open. Also, there was a hole in the roof above your mother. The guide was apparently in the midst of installing a sky window to look out at the stars at night. Your mother said it calmed her to look up and see trees and sky between contractions.”
“I can relate. The trees and the sky calm me down, too.”
“You were always like your mother, mija. Your sisters, they took after their father and his stern Germanic blood.” He paused to look at her, smiling warmly. “The lemurs let out quite a keening as you were being born. They issue a shrieking, howling kind of caterwaul. Did you know that they named lemurs after the Roman name ‘lemure’?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“It means ghost and spirits, and it’s easy to see why when you hear them. Their cries are rather eerie. In the night, it can make your hair stand on end. The Malagasy hold a lot of superstitions about the lemurs. They believe if you kill one of them, you will suffer the same fate.”
Marissa shuddered. “Oh! That’s awful!”
“Yes. I’ve heard tales of it happening. Anyway, at the time of your crowning, a kestrel flew into the room through the sky window. The falcon got disoriented for a moment and zipped around the room, seeking escape. Picture your tiny head being revealed, the midwife assisting, your father squeezing your mother’s hand, your mother bearing down and no doubt moaning with that beautiful voice of hers, and then a bird of prey flies in from overhead.” He sliced his hand through the air.
A slight smile curved on her lips. “I can’t imagine. So why did they think the bird was a sign of something amazing?”
“To add to the chaos, someone shouted for assistance to get the bird out and the travel guide ran into the room. He was an ornithologist. Apparently, his face went completely white when he saw the bird.”
“Why?”
“Because, mija, it was an extinct species. It was apparently a Réunion Kestrel. It has been extinct since the 1700s.”
“Come on! With all the chaos in the room, the guy could have made that up.”
“He insists it was that bird, mija. But here’s the truly remarkable part. The midwife was at the ready, waiting for you to come out. There’s shouting and chaos in the room. The bird flapped against the ceiling. It flew up and down along the wall. Then it did an amazing thing – it flew right over your mother’s legs and looked at her and then at you. The kestrel hovered in midflight, like it was scoping out its prey, ready to drop down and snatch you in its talons. Everyone stopped and looked up at the bird. It remained like this for, oh, maybe a minute, watching your mother and your tiny head emerging. Then it just flew out the window, as if it knew where to go all along.” He made his hand swoop and soar.
Marissa shook her head. “That’s an outlandish tale. Why didn’t I ever hear this story? All I was ever told was that I was born on an island near Africa.”
“I think your parents wanted to wait. They were going to present you with the story, as well as an amulet on your 16th birthday. They never made it that far.”
“No. They died when I was only 15.”
“Yes, they felt like they had to make haste when they flew down to Central America. Word was circulating that an extremely powerful black magic sorcerer had heard of you, and he wanted your powers for himself. He had plans to abduct and ensorcel you. They had flown down to Guatemala to meet with a powerful brujo and curandero. They sought to find a way to protect you. Sadly, they never made it to their intended destination.”
“If that was true, why hasn’t he already done it? I could have been ensorcelled at any time.” She pursed her lips in sarcasm. “Ensorcelled,” she scoffed.
“There is an age at which a woman begins her ripening – she begins her bloom into f
ullness and her child-self falls away. He knew he had to wait.”
“For?”
“The year in which you turned 26.”
“I’m 26 now. Just…” The words fell from her lips. The room started a lazy spin, as if she was twirling in slow motion on the Mad Hatters Teacups in Disneyland. Her third eye throbbed. The goddess apparition swirled in her head, along with the sinister one. This was too much. It was just too much to take in. She let her forehead drop on the desk once more, quelling her inner sight.
“Mija. Mija. Talk to me. Can I get you anything?”
She rolled her head back and forth in the negative, feeling the smooth surface grind against her skin and skull. A small, squeaky voice croaked out of her throat. “Just tell me what the lapis is used for.”
Diego cleared his throat. “I know this one by heart. It’s a sacred stone used in ancient Egypt. I used this stone often in your mother’s jewelry. But I never possessed one as fine as this. It’s used to prevent psychic attack and awaken the third eye. It’s believed to hold the energy of a star-filled sky and bestow limitless wisdom on the wearer. It can keep and protect a relationship. I placed lapis lazuli in the necklace that your mother wore to Guatemala on her last journey there. We think the black sorcerer stole this, as well as the other jewelry, in order to gather power. What he has used them for is not known.”
“Who is this ‘we’?” she said weakly.
“I’ll tell you, but this conversation must never leave your lips. Do I have your word on this?”
Marissa nodded.
“The Numina.”
Marissa’s eyes widened. That’s what Daniel said.
“It is an eclectic network of individuals of different abilities worldwide of which I am a part. Many of our members are quite wealthy and powerful. We are part of the white arts, not the black. We practice in secret. The only reason I am telling you this is…is…is because of this.” He swept his arm across the table, indicating the gems. “It’s time you knew. I think you are to play a part.” He paused and tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. “Our members stir revolution behind the scenes. We restore order. We keep the world in balance against the forces of evil.” He made a derisive face and rubbed his eyes again. “Your mother was not a part of the group, but she was always welcome. Her skills were used from time to time.” He looked towards the bookcase and then brought his eyes to hers. “She was sought after, actually. We wanted her to be a part of our group. She could have brought tremendous power to our organization.”