Frozen: a ParaNormal mystery

by Amsden, Christine

  “Okay, I could, but I don’t have time to stay with you and I think we’d both prefer I not use sheer brute force.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Scott and I are going to McClellan’s to see if we can turn anything up.”

  I’d almost forgotten about the fairy, with everything else going on. “I thought you’d need more evidence before breaking into a powerful sorcerer’s shop.”

  “We’re not breaking in, just looking around. Scott’s going invisible and I’m handling the distraction.”

  I took another bite of pancake and chewed slowly, thinking. “Evan, do you feel like something big is going on?”

  “Yes. Why do you think I’m going to McClellan’s with so little evidence?”

  “Is it possible it really is a fairy? I mean, hell hounds are real.”

  Evan sat heavily on the edge of the bed and stared out the window. “Who knows? It’s like you said, something big is happening. I think I’ve been feeling it for a while, but I let myself ignore the warning signs until it was too late.”

  “Too late?”

  “Two people are dead.”

  “That’s not your fault!”

  “Isn’t it? If I’d paid half as much attention to the mist and the misery as the sheriff had, maybe I’d have figured things out months ago and we could have avoided this mess.” Evan shook his head. “I’m the sorcerer, not him.”

  “You’ve been out of town a lot, and working hard when you’re home. I should have taken it more seriously when the sheriff asked me about the mist. Or maybe I should have dreamed. I …” I trailed off, remembering the reason I’d left the house in the middle of the night to begin with.

  “What?” Evan asked, a hard edge to his voice.

  “Nothing. Just a – a bad dream.”

  Evan looked up at the dream catcher hanging over the bed. “A bad dream?”

  “A good dream, but with horrific implications.” I shook my head.

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  Again, I shook my head.

  “Why did you leave the house in the middle of the night anyway?”

  “I was going to talk to Juliana about it.”

  “Really?” That hard edge was back.

  “Yeah. Really.” I stared at the half-eaten food in front of me, but found my appetite gone.

  “You went two miles down the road to talk to someone about a bad dream?”

  “You were in another room.”

  “I was closer than two miles.”

  “Yeah, well, it felt much further.” I pushed the tray away. “I need to get dressed. I should call the sheriff, tell him what happened, and find out if they found the Bakers.”

  “You’re going to finish breakfast. You lost a lot of energy healing last night.”

  “I’ll eat later.”

  “Why are you mad at me?” He stood, and for a second I thought he was going to force the tray back onto my lap, but he lifted it and carried it to the dresser. “I’m not the one who destroyed an ecosystem yesterday.”

  I winced. What was I supposed to say to that? I’d already apologized, and I’d be damned if I was doing it again.

  Pushing the covers aside, I got out of bed, noticing for the first time that the sheets on Evan’s side of the bed were untouched. Even after I’d come home bloody, he still hadn’t slept the rest of the night with me. He’d pushed me away, and now he wondered why I was angry? He was barely even speaking to me, certainly not about anything important.

  “You’re taking a crystal with you today, wherever you go,” Evan said.

  “Fine.”

  “And you’ll use it, if you even think there might be danger.”

  I bristled. I hated being told what to do at the best of times, and these weren’t the best of times. I bit back a retort I was sure we would both regret later – barely. I tried to remember that he was scared and trying to protect me, but I mostly felt a surge of resentment.

  How dare he treat me as an inferior? How dare he treat me as if I were a disobedient child? How dare he condemn me for an accident? It wasn’t my fault!

  “Cassie, will you use it?”

  I stared at him, at his shoulder-length hair, his chiseled face, his blue eyes. I loved him, but also, right at that moment, I hated him too. It was the first time I’d felt that way since we’d been married.

  Our daughter was doomed. And at this rate, so was our son.

  Chapter 13

  THE SHERIFF WAS STILL LOOKING FOR the Bakers while his deputies looked for evidence of anyone in Nadine or Jared’s life who might have wanted to hurt them. Or even anyone who might have been connected to magic. I decided to consult over the phone that morning because I still felt weak and magical healing saps a great deal of strength – unless Juliana does it. Her gift is truly miraculous.

  By lunchtime I felt frustrated and restless, and I wanted to see Ana. So I headed to Matthew and Kaitlin’s home, hoping to catch my friend alone this time.

  I got my wish. Matthew had gone out to inspect possible office space for the headquarters of the White Guard. The organization had been too big to run out of his living room for some time but tradition, coupled with a desire for the movement not to turn into the Magical Underground’s evil twin, had kept us in this smaller, more intimate environment.

  The living room was now crawling with babies – mine, Kaitlin’s, and the twins.

  Ana crawled over to me the second I came through the door. “Ma!”

  I picked her up and she tried to lift my shirt.

  “Hey, easy there.” I glanced quickly at Kaitlin, wondering if I should nurse in front of her, then decided Ana’s needs were more important. I settled onto a recliner, grabbed a blanket, and then struggled for a moment to convince Ana to keep it over her head.

  “Evan said you were hurt.” Kaitlin went through to the kitchen, separated from the living room area by a long bar. She was also mostly behind me, at an angle where she couldn’t see Ana nursing.

  I gave up the blanket fight.

  “I’m fine,” I said, angling my head so I could see her. “He healed me.”

  “I figured.” She began pulling out sandwich fixings, attracting the attention of her own son, who rushed to her side to beg for a piece of the cheese she’d pulled out. She was so distracted, it took her a moment to ask the burning question. “What happened?”

  “A hell hound seems to have taken up residence outside the castle.”

  “It attacked?” Kaitlin paused to stare at me.

  “You seem more surprised that it attacked than that it was there.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, after what you said yesterday over dinner, I figured you thought the hell hounds were guardians.”

  “That’s one theory, but who was Jim threatening when he was attacked? And who was I threatening last night?”

  “Fair questions.” Kaitlin returned to the refrigerator for some milk and began pouring glasses. “Another would be: How did you survive?”

  “It backed off.” I closed my eyes. “I’d yelled for Evan, kind of stupidly, and then I remembered Christina has farsight and I called for her. That’s when it backed off.”

  “Do you think it’s Christina’s guardian?”

  I shuddered to think so. Christina was a powerful sorcerer, daughter and sister of powerful sorcerers. She didn’t need a guardian from hell; she had plenty of magic to protect her.

  Or did she?

  Ana popped up suddenly and I busied myself settling her onto my other breast for a moment. When she was comfortable, I stared at Michael and Maya, who were watching a cartoon on TV. They seemed to be floating on a sea of toys, likely thanks to Maya’s summoning gift. If she could see something, she could make it come to her. It wasn’t a sinister gift, but it could be a nuisance. I thought Juliana had been binding it too, along with Michael’s more dangerous fire-starting ability.

  They sat so close their arms, legs, and hands touched. It might have been a cute portrait, if it had b
een a snapshot. But sitting there watching them stay like that, barely moving for an extended period of time was a bit … well, I didn’t want to say my brother and sister were creepy but I was struggling to think of another word.

  Maya’s eyes were closed. That was strange. Michael was staring avidly at the TV, but Maya could have been sleeping.

  My presence meant nothing to either of them. It hurt, especially when I thought of how Adam used to cling to me when I returned from school or work. As the oldest, I’d been the role model, the support, the babysitter. Before Dad had died and Mom had checked out, they’d been the parents, but I’d been something of a caregiver too, for as long as I could remember.

  Not to these two. They barely even knew me.

  Ana popped fully upright and smiled at me, breaking my reverie. I smiled back and righted myself, then put her on the floor with the twins while I went to help Kaitlin finish putting lunch together.

  I continued to watch the kids as I worked. Kaitlin let me, giving me the time to think and observe as if she knew what I needed. We had been that in-tune with one another once, but not lately.

  Ana crawled to Maya, over the pile of toys, and sat next to her, watching her aunt rather than the TV. When Maya continued to act as if Ana weren’t there, Ana began picking up toys and offering them to her, one at a time. Maya didn’t look, didn’t even turn her head in acknowledgment. Ana tapped her with a glow worm and Maya clung more tightly to Michael, who made a sort of angry grunting sound. Ana looked at me and seemed to be asking what to do next. I shrugged, as lost as she was.

  “Lunchtime,” Kaitlin called as she began carrying plates into the dining room two at a time. I took two as well, then returned for the adult plates, which were about the same size as Jay’s.

  Jay climbed right into his booster seat and I felt certain that if he were tall enough, he wouldn’t need any help sitting at the table at all. He dug into his lunch with gusto, not waiting for the others to arrive.

  Ana didn’t immediately go to the dining room, but that wasn’t surprising. She’d just nursed, and probably wasn’t very hungry. She mostly played with her food, even now that she’d turned one. I knew that would change soon and that one day, I’d be caught completely unaware when she became wholly self-sufficient. I picked her up and carried her to a highchair, settling her in with Kaitlin’s offerings – a deconstructed sandwich with crackers rather than bread, finely chopped chicken, cheese, and banana.

  Michael stood when I returned for him, a bit awkwardly as Maya clung to his side. I hesitated, then reached down to scoop Maya into my arms, figuring Michael looked more capable of walking on his own.

  She screamed the second she was parted from her brother. Michael didn’t cry, but he looked at me as if I’d betrayed him somehow.

  “It’s okay,” I crooned, swinging Maya slightly as I walked her to the table and set her in one of the booster seats. “Michael’s coming right over.”

  “Good luck with that,” Kaitlin muttered.

  “What do you mean?”

  Michael crossed to the dining room on his own, his steps confident but far more toddler-like than Jay’s, despite being a few months older. He had trouble getting into his booster seat, so I lifted him and tried to help him settle in, but he continued to struggle.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, not sure if I was talking to Michael or Kaitlin.

  “Scoot their chairs closer,” Kaitlin advised.

  I hesitated, then did as she suggested, butting Michael’s chair right up against Maya’s so they were close enough to reach out and grasp hands. They found one another unerringly, and Maya instantly settled down.

  “Juliana said it’s getting worse.” I was talking more to myself than to Kaitlin.

  “I don’t know. All I know is if I separate them for a second, even to change a diaper, I get tears. It’s weird. I have no idea how they’re going to manage potty training.”

  “They were like that at the party too,” I said. “Juliana had to hold them together.”

  I took a seat between Maya and Ana and began to eat, though I was paying far more attention to my brother and sister than my food.

  They had disassembled sandwiches too, though Kaitlin had given them slices of bread and bigger chunks of chicken than she’d given Ana. Michael ate fairly well with his free left hand, but Maya struggled somewhat with her free right hand until Michael glanced her way and some silent communication seemed to pass between them.

  I shivered.

  “They don’t talk,” Kaitlin said. “But they seem to understand each other.”

  “Juliana said they seem to have some secret twin language.” I shook my head. I wasn’t going to solve the mystery of Michael and Maya this afternoon. Besides, I had bigger mysteries to solve.

  “Thanks for watching Ana today,” I said. “I’m not sure how late I’ll be. Will it be a problem keeping her late?”

  “Nah. She and Jay play well together. Well, not exactly together. More next to one another.”

  I nodded. That sounded about right for kids their age, although I supposed Kaitlin, as an only child, wasn’t as aware of these things.

  “So,” Kaitlin continued, “are you planning to tell me what you were doing at your mom’s place in the middle of the night? You came over to talk about something.”

  I sighed and tried to decide if Kaitlin would make a good confidante. I trusted her completely, but she didn’t understand magic very well, not even after having a magical son, running off with a vampire, and now dating a telepath. Would she understand that the dreams weren’t really dreams?

  Would anyone? It suddenly struck me that Evan might not entirely understand either. So I’d seen two possible futures and met two possible kids. Seers and dreamers must have been doing the same for centuries.

  If only the town’s two ancient seers hadn’t both decided to die a couple of years ago, I could have asked them. I might even have risked going to Grace Blair, Matthew’s grandmother, whose power-hungry ambition had ruled her family and threatened me personally.

  “I’m practicing dreaming again,” I began, deciding I needed to talk to someone before I exploded.

  “That’s good. Matthew’s been asking about it.”

  I flinched. I owed Matthew ten years’ worth of visions unless I learned to master my powers, in which case he’d knock it down to two. So far, he definitely couldn’t think he was getting his money’s worth.

  Not remembering my dreams was my biggest problem, and it was purely psychological. I knew that. Everyone told me so. Matthew had offered to pair me up with one of his cousins, an empathic healer, but I’d refused for the same reason I had hesitated to have an empathic healer work with my mom. I wondered, briefly, if he was talking about the same person.

  I should, at least, get an empathic healer to work with my mom.

  “Anyway, I’m using the dream catcher so I’m only seeing the good futures, the happy times.” I paused, but Kaitlin didn’t add anything as I’d half expected her to do. Maybe berate me for using a dream catcher as a crutch? “So I saw the daughter Evan and I will conceive tonight.”

  “Tonight?” He face broke into a wide grin and she winked at me. “Oh, that’s amazing. What’s she like?”

  I told her. I found myself reliving the memories and the moments I’d dreamed as I brought Abigail to life once again, though she’d always been alive in my heart.

  “So what’s the problem?” Kaitlin asked.

  “Evan and I are fighting.”

  “Oh, well, you’ll just have to make up.”

  “But if I do that, or at least, if I do it too quickly, I’ll lose the son I dreamed about last night.”

  Kaitlin’s mouth opened slightly, then she closed it again. Since she didn’t seem able to talk, I filled in the silence, telling her all about Little Henry and the moments of his life I’d seen in my dream. Trying to show her in words, terrible, inadequate words, that for me at least, he was real.

  “You could always have
two more kids,” Kaitlin said.

  I shook my head. She didn’t understand. “I can’t have these two kids, not both of them. I think … there’s something behind the nightmare shroud that’s not coming through, but I know what it is. There are probably billions of unique babies Evan and I could have. Can you imagine? Twenty-three chromosome pairs from each of us. Do you even know how to do the math on that?”

  Kaitlin shook her head. “Madison might.”

  She might; she’d minored in math and more importantly, she was brilliant. But I didn’t really want to know. The number wouldn’t make a difference. It could be a million or a billion or even more, and it would be just as unfathomable.

  “I can have two kids. I can even name them Abigail and Henry. But it won’t be the Abigail and Henry I dreamed about. Not both of them. It’s not possible.”

  “Could they be twins?”

  I shook my head; I’d never seen Abigail and Henry together, nor dreamed of having twins.

  Jay finished eating and climbed down from his booster seat, racing back to the living room and making a racket I couldn’t identify but which didn’t alarm Kaitlin in the least. She took a sip of water and stared at me thoughtfully.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I think – you only dreamed about them one night each. When you have the baby, you’ll get to know that child. That’s the one who’ll be real. These two are just possible dream children.”

  She didn’t understand, and I couldn’t explain. They felt more real to me than dream children. And part of the problem – the big part – was that I knew how to make each of them. No matter what I did, I would be making a choice between two dramatically different children. I knew exactly the time and place and I even sensed, in both cases, that the position mattered. I felt my cheeks redden slightly at that last thought, which I didn’t share with my friend.

  “I didn’t mean to make you mad,” Kaitlin said, apparently misinterpreting my reddened cheeks.

  “I’m not mad.” It was true. I wasn’t. I was just so frustrated. “But I have to choose. If I choose Abigail, I’ll be saying, with my actions, that I’d rather have a girl, or an outgoing child, or a brilliant one. Or if I wait … I know Evan wants a boy. I do too. And Little Henry is so sweet and clever.” I paused, struggling to find the point, to make her understand. “It’s the choice itself.”