Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances

by T. M. Franklin

  “There she is. My second angel I’m fortunate to have come into my life,” he announces.

  I look from him to Giana. Her skin tone is healthy again. Her eyes are bright. “I can come back another time,” I suggest.

  “Don’t be silly. Ernesto stopped by earlier. He informed me that you are upset…with him, with us. I apologize. The only thing on my mind when you returned was regaining my ability and healing Toby. I had every intention to talk to you about my thoughts, but I didn’t have a chance.” She guides me to a chair and sits in one beside it. “Please forgive me, Charlotte. I wasn’t even aware that Fritjof returned or of his injured condition.”

  Everything she said made sense. “Why did you never make mention before that you believed I may have…a gift?”

  My hand still in hers, she squeezes it. “I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure if you would actually be able to touch the Potente vase. Since your arrival here, we bombarded you with so much astonishing information. And with Toby’s condition…I think you had enough worries upon your shoulders.”

  “What does it mean? My ability to generate pain. Can I control it? Did you think I would gain both?”

  Scooting her chair closer, she peers into my face. “No. I never imagined you would gain both. I don’t know what it means, but yes, you can control it. You did last night.”

  “Not at first, I didn’t.” Fritjof shifts on the bed. I glance in his direction, but my eyes stop short when I see the vase on the bed table. I look from it to Fritjof. He stares at it. His eyes are glassy, and a rush of terror assaults me. “Why is the vase in here? It needs to be locked up somewhere…safe, where no one can get to it.” My words come fast and shaky.

  Giana giggles, sitting back in her chair. “You can relax now, Charlotte. The prophecies have been fulfilled. Not that you and I don’t have much work to do for all our new residents, but you don’t need to be so stressed. Now is the time to rejoice and rebuild.”

  I don’t know what overcomes me, but I’m riddled with anxiety. Jumping from my seat, I rush to the table and grab the vase. My words and tone signify that I won’t take no for an answer. “Is there a bank here…with a safe? This will not stay out in the open.”

  Giana stands and steps to the door. “Come on. We will go lock it up and stop by the meeting hall. Meet the new arrivals and see what we are dealing with.”

  As I stroll toward the door, an odd sensation seizes me, and without moving my head, I catch a glimpse of Fritjof. I don’t want to give him my full attention, but I think I see him mocking me. He has his hands on his hips but lifts one hand up waving the pointer finger in the “no, no” scolding motion. Giana is waiting outside, so she doesn’t witness this. I don’t care if he and I aren’t friends. My concern is safeguarding the vase and the people of Protetta. It can’t get into the wrong hands…ever again.

  The banker’s daughter locks the vase up. Giana and I leave to greet and access the newcomers as we had planned. Off to the side of the hall is a small courtyard with a bench. She leads me there. “I received a report on the condition of people inside, but we won’t know until we get there. Supposedly, there are several children with the perishing illness, and we will treat them first. I know you are probably frightened, so I thought it best we talk and I answer any questions you have.”

  I appreciate her effort, but I don’t want to. I don’t trust myself with these capabilities. Maybe I don’t have them anymore.

  Her voice snaps me from my internal quandaries. “Charlotte, talk to me.”

  “I’m scared. I don’t know how to use it, and I’m afraid of hurting someone else,” I blurt.

  Folding her hands in her lap, she sighs. “I can understand that. I think your subconscious still considered Fritjof a threat last night. That fear was first and foremost in your mind. Your power responded to it. If I had any doubt that you would harm innocent, sick children, I wouldn’t ask this of you. There’s just too many…and healing the sick along with imparting protection against future contagions takes a lot more out of me and requires a longer recovery than just providing immunities.”

  Hearing mention of that I ask her about last night. “I don’t remember anything the last time I touched Fritjof last night. I didn’t know if I killed him or not.”

  Fidgeting with her hands, she doesn’t respond right away, and when she does, I hear her regret. “I won’t let you get to that point today. Ever. Not only did you combat the war raging inside of yourself over your newfound hurting ability, uncertain if you could heal, but you healed a mortally wounded individual near death. I can only imagine the amount of energy it pulled from you…the toll it took on you.” Her eyes reflect her sincerity and appreciation. “Come on. Let’s go provide some relief to some children, celebrate your gift, and obliterate all your fears.”

  All I can think about is how much I just want to go home and be with Toby. He is such a good baby. Even being sick and having a fever, he never fussed. I enter the huge hall behind Giana in her lovely, pink dress, and none of this feels right. She is what anyone would imagine if they heard of a beautiful soul that cured and protected people from sickness and death. Not me. Once again, I have no shoes on. Though I have a closet full of clothes I chose to wear a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt.

  Two boys around my age approach Giana and explain to her that they have the possibly infected children in one area. We follow them. She introduces herself to the group, and to any parents accompanying their child, but I barely hear anything she says. I can’t hold onto one coherent thought. Since I arrived in this village, I haven’t had much time to ponder so many questions that surge my mind as I stand there. I look at the sick, sad faces surrounding us, and it reminds me that just a few days ago Toby and I were in their same position. This place and Giana—it all seemed so incredulous. It was everything I prayed for.

  Giana gestures to me to where she kneels in front of a young boy. “Charlotte, I am able to sense if someone is sick or infected. Can you?”

  “I don’t think so? How? I’ve never been around anyone after they became infected. My dad took my mother away when she did.” Nothing strange happened to me when I touched the vase. I don’t know if last night may have been a one-time experience.

  Taking my hand, she holds it out in front of the boy. I struggle with her at first, fearful she wants me to touch him. “Think about him, Charlotte. Focus on his body. Feel its life, feel its struggles.”

  I try. I really do, but I feel nothing. I shake my head.

  Her lips turn up in a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. The gifts bestowed obviously vary. He isn’t infected. He has a virus but not the perishing illness. He must wait.”

  “Why?” I ask. We are right there, why not treat him now. Forced with the reality of these types of decisions isn’t something I want to get accustomed to. I don’t want this responsibility.

  Clutching my arm, she pulls me aside, away from the boy. “I told you we treat the ones with the illness first. We can’t have the illness progress into their brain and minds. Once it does, Charlotte, we can’t do anything. Why do you think those infected are left wandering outside the village?” Her eyes peer into mine waiting for a response. When I don’t reply, she continues. “I can’t heal issues with the mind. We use our gift and our strength to save the ones I know are infected before that happens.”

  With my new potential to help the infected, this was one prospect I wanted to discuss with her. If I held the ability, I wanted to help as many as I could. “How long does it take to affect their brains? How do we know?”

  “It’s different with each individual. Same as why some contracted it immediately, while other didn’t. Once the twitching starts, it’s too late. Besides the ones who combat each other, I have never seen any just die. You’ve been on the outside, outside of Protetta…was the countryside covered with deceased?” Her question leaves me speechless and daunted. The more we discuss the illness, the more I realize how little we know. No, I never saw any deceased infected
, only the ones that attacked each other. She states, “I didn’t think so. It’s as if once the disease has consumed all available life from its victim they vanish, uniting with the dormant earth.”

  As difficult as it is discussing this with Giana, it gives me a sense of peace. Toby and I aren’t alone any longer. I have people to learn with, survive with. She and I heal ten children, five each. With her support and guidance, it came easy. The first one, a little girl, troubled me. I held my hand above her shoulder for several minutes before Giana convinced me that I would do no harm. The smiles we received in return for our gift and the hugs from parents touched me in ways I never experienced. I don’t know why I’ve attained this gift, but I make a promise to never squander it.

  Leaving the meeting hall, we are both tired but not to any extreme. Reaching the intersection of our streets with the square, I see Fritjof. He approaches us when he sees Giana. His lips turn into a huge smile. “I’ve been waiting for you. I have a very special meal planned for the both of us if you aren’t too tired,” he says.

  Giana tilts her head and her cheeks flush. “Really? That is so sweet. No, I’m not too tired.”

  I look away from him, but I feel his eyes on me. He speaks to Giana in a humble voice, but to me, it comes across more whiny and insincere. “I knew better than to come inside the meeting hall. I know all those people will only associate me with what they saw and knew me as.”

  Strange images enter my mind, and I hear the name Rosa repeatedly. I get dizzy. I just want to get home. To Toby. “I’ll meet you in the morning at ten, Giana.” I struggle to get the sentence out, but with my sight impeded, I feel nauseated.

  6

  My intention is to stop by Carmine’s and get Toby, but feeling the way I do, I go straight home.

  “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Ernesto’s voice greets me laced with care and concern. He and Toby both come to me.

  “I need to sit down,” I manage to inform him. He helps me to the couch while Toby pulls on my leg. Taking a deep breath, I offer Toby a weak smile. “What are you doing here?” I ask Toby, but look at Ernesto.

  Toby squeals as he toddles off to get his trucks. Ernesto lays his hand on my leg. “I want to apologize…about last night…this morning.” His voice and his eyes reveal his shame. “I should never have forced you to do that without considering your fears. I was scared too.”

  My throat constricts. I’m afraid I might cry. “I’m thirsty. Will you go get me some water, please,” I ask.

  “Of course.” He pats my leg before going to the kitchen.

  Though I am beginning to feel better, the whole incident with Fritjof has left me unnerved. My intuition tells me that we made a mistake bringing him back here. The whole flashes of scenes I experienced and the— “Ernesto…do you know anyone named Rosa?” I call out to him.

  He doesn’t answer me, and when he appears from the entry to the kitchen, he looks upset. “Where did you hear that name?” He first looked sad, but now it morphs into anger. “Who spoke of her?” he asks in a raised voice.

  “No one. It just popped in my head.” Which it did. Ernesto’s whole Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde switching persona trait is getting on my last nerve. “What are you doing here anyway? I didn’t tell you that you could pick up Toby.”

  He saunters over with a cup of water. Now he looks like a scolded puppy. “I didn’t think it would be an issue. I think you know how I feel about you, and I believe the feeling is mutual.”

  Well, crap. That is true. Even after the stupid, selfish stunt he pulled last night, I can’t say I wouldn’t do that same thing for someone I care about.

  “I plan on staying here. With you. I’ll take one of the extra rooms,” he declares.

  My pulse quickens and I fight to control my excessive excitement. Ernesto is a strength and support I need—I want—in my life. I trust him with Toby’s life, and I trust him with mine. Especially right now. I fear something bad is on the horizon.

  “Did it not go well with the newcomers? Were you able to help? Without any harm to you or them?” He bombards me with his concerns. His dark eyes are soft and soothing.

  I’m hesitant to mention anything about my apprehensions over Fritjof. I decide to avoid that…for now. “I didn’t want to try, but Giana was patient with me. She took the time to talk to me and explain a lot of things. It went really well. We both cured and protected five children each. It was amazing to see their joy and gratitude. I will help as many as I can…for as long as I can.

  Surprising me, Ernesto grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. Wrapping his arms around me, he hugs me tight to him. He dips his head and whispers in my ear, “I’m glad it went well and you feel good about it today. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you or to Toby.”

  His words have alarms sounding in my mind, but being in his strong embrace overrides them.

  For the next ten days, I go to the hall with Giana, and we heal and provide immunity for all of the newcomers. It’s strenuous and rewarding. Fritjof waits for her every day, and they walk off hand in hand together. I don’t know why it never dawned on me until a few days ago that they were and are a couple. Probably because I first assumed she and Ernesto were. I keep my distance from him and rush to the safety of my home and the safety of Ernesto. Toby is and will always be my whole purpose. His smiles and giggles greet me each morning and each time I return home.

  I haven’t had any more images or voices flash through my conscious mind, but I have in my sleep. Ernesto woke me from my first screaming nightmare and sleeps beside me now each night. This afternoon, Ernesto, Toby, and I are sitting on the floor building and knocking down towers of blocks when someone knocks on the door. Ernesto gets up and answers it.

  It’s one of the new boys, about thirteen or fourteen years old, and his mother. The boy appears nervous, looking behind him and up and down the street. He shuffles his feet as if he wants to be ready to race off if needed. His mother has her hand clasped around his neck holding him there. “Ernesto, can we please come and speak with you about a private matter,” she requests.

  Ernesto looks to me first, and I nod my approval. “Sure. Please come in.” He opens the door wide and they scurry in. “What’s wrong, Otto? Were you slacking in the fields today? Too busy staring at Allegra again?” He jokes with the boy, throwing a fake punch to his upper arm. I sometimes forget all the roles Ernesto has in the village. On many days, he coordinates and assists the workers assigned to field duty.

  Otto grins sheepishly. “Nah. Not today. But she doesn’t have a chance. I know she likes me though she wants everyone to think she doesn’t.”

  After Ernesto closes the front door, Otto’s mom confides in him. “I didn’t know if I should tell anyone. I didn’t know if anyone would believe me. But I must…I know that I can trust Charlotte, and I believe I can trust you.”

  Me? I’m honored she feels that way, and she can, but I don’t know them any better than I know most others.

  “Otto was one of the next Fritjof would have taken up in the barn. You saved him then, and a week ago you saved him from all diseases and illnesses. I will forever be grateful to you.” Her admission is heartfelt and I look at Toby and I empathize. Giana did the same for him and for me. I’ve met and interacted with so many people since that day at the barn. I feel guilty I don’t recall Otto or his mother. “This morning Otto was to work in the lower fields. Edmund requested he help outfit some of the vacant homes for Protetta’s newest residents. I heard all of this.” She stops speaking and looks at her son who has his head lowered. Their distress over whatever they want to tell us is evident.

  “Why don’t you both sit down. Take your time,” suggests Ernesto.

  “Otto forgot his water, so I ran after him. Between two homes I saw him…and Fritjof.” She spoke rapidly and panicky. “He had my boy cornered. He accused him of not pulling his weight and fulfilling his responsibilities. He accused him of letting me sacrifice everything for him while he shirked his role as
a dutiful son. Then…then he put his hand on Otto’s face and…and…” She shrieked. Her hand flew to her mouth and she sobbed.

  I didn’t need to hear any more. I knew what happened. As much as I wanted to be wrong about Fritjof, I knew I wasn’t. Ernesto stood still. His shock registered in his eyes. I stood and went to Otto’s mother. Placing my arm around her shoulders, I led her to the couch. “Otto. You are all right now?” I ask.

  He keeps his head lowered, but his eyes lift and meet mine. “Yes, Miss Charlotte. He released me when my mother screamed.”

  “Have you told anyone else?” I ask them both. They both shake their head. His mom continues to sob. “Do you have a residence of your own now, or are you still in the hall?”

  Looking at me with teary eyes, his mom gushes over their new home. “We moved in yesterday. It is a wonderful place, much more than I expected.”

  “I have three bedrooms here. Since we are the only ones that know that Fritjof retained some of his power and still plans to torment people with it, we will stick together. You will stay here until we figure out how to deal with this.”

  My declaration has his mother crying again. “Thank you, Miss Charlotte. I knew I made the right decision coming to you. I just knew it.”

  Ernesto and Otto go to get any items Otto and his mom may need from their new home. We eat dinner and call it a night early. Blowing out the candles and climbing in bed, Ernesto takes my hand in his. “How long have you known?” he whispers.

  “I didn’t. I suspected.”

  “Tomorrow you and I will go see Bettina. She came to see me a couple of days ago about a scroll or something. I forgot about it. I thought it was over. I wanted it to be over. I put you in danger. Toby. Giana. Everyone.” The sadness in his tone hurts me. I know he feels responsible. He is the one who insisted we bring him back. He is the one who insisted I heal him.