Grey Eyes

by Ramey, Quinteria; Alston, Brandon

  “Well hello there,” she said, smiling. “Pushed our self a little too hard did we?”

  I just stared. What happened to me?

  “Anastasia, would you mind if you and I have a few words?” she asked sweetly. The woman had a kind face, and an accent haunted her words, reminding me of my French teacher back in Pelion.

  “Okay,” I answered.

  The woman turned from me and nodded at the others. Each of them began to move toward the door. My grandmother watched me with concern as she moved with them, lingering an extra moment before passing through the doorway.

  The woman took a seat on the bed next to me. She smiled again once everyone had left the room. “My name is Genevieve. I am sorry that I could not attend your welcome party yesterday, I had urgent business in Prague...“

  She paused when she noticed that I was staring at her eyes. “We have something in common, do we not?”

  “You’re…like me,” I managed.

  “Indeed. I am the heir of the Merovingian line of witches. As you may have guessed from my accent, my native safe haven is located in France. Have you ever heard of Marseille?”

  I shook my head.

  She laughed. “It is all right. When you are feeling better, perhaps you would like to visit. Or perhaps I shall accompany you in your first official visit to your family’s native haven, in St. Petersburg. The witching community there was especially fond of your aunt.” She was still smiling once she’d finished speaking, but there was something more than friendliness behind her eyes now, a strange intensity that made me uncomfortable.

  “I-I’m just getting used to being here,” I muttered. Not entirely sure how to respond, I had said the first thing that came to my mind. Anything to break that painful stare.

  “Now, now, you musn’t neglect them. It is like choosing one child over another.”

  “You make it sound like they belong to me,” I replied.

  “Of course,” she said with a surprised tone. “Have they not made you aware that this haven is your inheritance? When you are twenty five you will be made lord of the witching community both here and in St. Petersburg.”

  “Oh,” I said in astonishment. “I thought it was just for show like they do in England. I didn’t know I’d really be like a queen or something.”

  “Do not let it trouble your mind. It feels overwhelming to you now, but you will be more than prepared to assume the responsibilities of your title when the time comes. Shall we come to reason why I am here tonight?”

  “Okay,” I replied nervously. I sat up a little in my bed.

  She stood up. “You are at an age where you are still maturing, Anastasia. Not only physically but mentally as well. As we speak, your mind is undergoing the changes necessary to become more attune to the rhythms of nature. Soon, you will be able to manipulate it—simply put, magick. As a grey eyed heir, you will find yourself extremely competent in one area of witchcraft—your affinity. My affinity, as it has been for most of my ancestors, deals in the restorative properties of nature. The arts of healing.

  “Like a doctor?”

  “Very much. Only not a doctor, think of me as the doctor. It is in this capacity that I visit you now. For some, the transition from child to adult witch can be more difficult than others. Your grandmother contacted me in regard to your acting strangely. Are you aware of the behavior she’s referring to?”

  I shifted nervously in my bed. I’d been acting strangely? Is that how I ended up here? I tried to focus on the events leading up to now but could only find bits and pieces. It was like a shroud had been thrown over my brain, and I was forced to move around inside my own mind in total darkness. The only thing I remembered was that I was running—but why? “I honestly can’t remember much,” I said. “I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

  She bit her lip and then became quiet for a moment. “What is the last thing that you can remember?” she asked.

  I ignored the blank spot in my memory and looked back to the last thing that was clear. “Darren,” I replied. “He’d called about…um, about school. Wanted to know if I needed a ride. I told him that I wasn’t sure about school yet.”

  She nodded her head. “Was the prospect of going school something that caused you anxiety in your old life?”

  I lowered my head and nodded. “Before all of this, I was wondering if I’d get to go to high school with my friend Jasmine. We were always moving, so when school let out, I wasn't sure if I’d ever see her again. I’ve never had much luck with friends, so it was a big deal I guess.”

  “I understand. It makes sense then that that is your last memory,” she said, sitting down on the bed again. “Tell me, during the time that you can remember, did you hear any voices? Or feel emotions that you didn’t understand?”

  Had her expression not been so serious, I might have laughed. Voices? Seriously? “Not that I can remember.”

  She exhaled and gave me a big smile. “Give me a moment.”

  She stood up again, and started for the door.

  Her questions had made me anxious. “Am I alright?” I asked.

  My inquiry stopped her in her tracks. She turned around with another big smile. “Oh, yes. You have experienced drastic changes in the last couple of days. I can only imagine the stress you must be dealing with. I am sure that you just lost your head for a moment. It must have gotten to be too much for you. You needed a break so you ran.”

  “Lost my head? You mean I went crazy or something?”

  “Only as a reaction to stress. Everyone deals with loss in their own way. It also accounts for your not remembering, your conscious mind was not in control.”

  Her reference to my mother’s attack had sapped all the fight from within me. “And that’s why you asked whether I was hearing voices?”

  She laughed. “No, no. That part is quite ordinary. When you inherited your aunt’s eyes, you also inherited a small part of who she was. Her thoughts and emotions were passed onto you, to be preserved in your subconscious. As you enter into maturity, these thoughts and emotions can sometimes rise up to the surface. Do not worry yourself, after a while everything settles out, and they are buried deep into your psyche as is intended. I-I was just relieved that you did not have deal with that right now. You have already got so much to—”

  “You’re lying,” I interrupted. I don’t know how I knew, but I was certain. It was as if it was written on her forehead in bright red ink. “That’s not why I remember things or hear voices. That is not ordinary...You know about me, and you’re afraid that history’s going to repeat itself. You’re trying to make me forget him.”

  Having been visibly astonished during most of my rant, her entire body tensed at my reference to him. But that was only for a short time, she quickly regained her composure. Lifting her hand toward me, she spoke a couple words under her breath. As I watched my grandmother step into the room, I began to feel woozy. Weakness flooded my limbs and the next thing I knew, the back of my head had crashed into the pillows behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I heard my grandmother shout. I was still conscious, but barely.

  “I am sorry,” Genevieve replied. “What you said on the phone, it’s all true. I would never have believed it possible. But there’s more. Being here has somehow triggered her maturation too. Her mind was fighting off my memory spell without her even telling it to. It was literally effortless—I have never seen anything like it. She has not learned to control them yet, but her abilities are already present.”

  “But how? She’s only fifteen.”

  There was a pause before Genevieve spoke again. “Katarina, she’s…”

  “What...? What is it?”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I did the tests three times as we spoke. And all three times the same conclusion. She’s a conjurer, Katarina.”

  “Im-Impossible!” my grandmother squeaked.

  “We must keep a calm head about all of this—how else did you think her capable of—“


  “A calm head?” my grandmother interrupted. “It is practically a death sentence! I won’t lose her too!”

  “Shh! The others are just outside!”

  “I only just got her back, Genevieve. She could be all that I have left.”

  “Then you must be strong for her. We are friends before anything else, you know this. Your granddaughter’s secret is safe with me. But we must make the difficult decisions. You called me here because of him. You were afraid that she might end up like Aleksandra. That should be our first priority. However, this will call for more potent magick.”

  “You mean to suggest that you have more experience with that kind of magick?”

  “It seems we all have our secrets, do we not? All witches have the ability to tap into the unnatural magicks to some small degree—what are rare, are those witches with significant access, those which we consider to be “conjurers.”

  “All witches? But aren’t we bound by the laws of nature, by what is naturally possible?”

  “Do you think it natural that a witch can forcibly calm another by reciting a few words…? Precisely. It is so common a spell that we don’t even think to realize that it is drawn from whatever power fuels unnatural magick. Instead of running from this truth, I have chosen to accept it—to explore the ways in which I can utilize it to my own benefit. I am no conjurer by any stretch, but I’ve learned a great deal during my private sessions. I have the ability to further shield her from her memories of him. After that, I will go about suppressing her abilities—the powers she will wield are not meant for a child. It should give us some time to formulate less drastic solutions.”

  “What you’re suggesting, that’s possible?”

  “It is unnatural magick, Katarina. Nothing is impossible. But even still, you must be careful to keep an eye on her. Her abilities may still pop up from time to time, particularly during times when she’s feeling emotional. Tell her something to sate her curiosity and use whatever means necessary to keep him from telling her the truth about who she is. Her being a conjurer is enough of a problem without adding that complication.”

  “It’s just…It’s just that I promised myself that this time would be different. That I would not jeopardize my relationship with her for anything. If she were to discover that I did this…”

  “Better angry and alive, than fond of you and dead,” said Genevieve.

  There was quiet after that. My grandmother finally spoke. “Do what you must.”

  And then I felt nothing at all.

  ********************

  I woke to find the glass door leading out to my balcony ajar, the cool nighttime breezes from beyond caressing the sides of my face. I stood up to close it. My legs weren’t steady but I managed to shut the door before losing my balance.

  Something caught me. I freaked.

  “Shh,” said a boy’s voice. I turned to find the most stunning set of green eyes I’d ever seen. Somehow, they calmed me.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  He looked confused. “Who am I? But you came, you said that you remembered… didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y-you shouldn’t be here.”

  “I don’t understand, earlier—Get back in bed. I’ll explain everything once they’ve left.”

  “Once who’s left?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he guided me back to the bed. My bedroom door opened and he disappeared into the shadows on the other side of my room.

  Seconds later, a man peeked inside my door. “You’re awake?” he asked.

  “There’s someone in here,” I answered, pointing to the last place I’d seen the mysterious boy. Two men stormed inside and flipped on the light switches. The room was empty, but my balcony door was open again, and I could feel the breezes against my face once more.

  Chapter 9

  Safe

  “Open your eyes, pretty one,” the voice spoke softly.

  My heart froze in my chest. It couldn’t be… It’s not possible… I’m safe… I’m safe… I’m safe…

  Fingertips moved across my face and still I kept my eyes shut.

  “Let me see your eyes, pretty girl,” he repeated, sounding slightly less patient than before.

  I shook my head. This isn’t happening…

  His hand moved down my face until his fingers reached around my neck. “This can all be over if you simply show me those eyes of yours.”

  I panicked. Trembling beneath his grip, I opened them, letting the tears streak down my cheeks. I saw nothing but him. “Please,” I begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

  Blood red eyes gazed into mine, while the lips on his scarred, colorless face curled into a wicked grin. “Finally, I’ve found you.”

  “Please…”

  In one swift motion, my head was tilted back and he was lunging, open mouthed, for my neck. His teeth cut like knives into my flesh and the searing pain echoed in every corner of my body. The pain was excruciating. I screamed…

  “Shhhh,” said my grandmother. “It was only a dream. I am here now—you are safe.”

  I leaned up in my bed. Frantically, and still trembling, I searched the room with my eyes. “I’m safe,” I told myself again. I turned to face my grandmother. “It felt so real.”

  She nodded sympathetically. “I know, dear. I’ve been just across the hall. You’ve been sleeping restlessly since yesterday.” She sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I’ve been very careless in my dealing with your situation. I should have never thrown that breakfast party—I should have given you time to adjust—to heal. Finding you like that, it gave us all quite a scare.”

  “Finding me like what?” I asked.

  My grandmother’s head dropped and she took hold of my hands. “Ana, we found you passed out in the maze. You were in terrible condition. If not for Genevieve and her healing magicks…”

  I searched my mind for the memory of what she was saying to me. Nothing. My grandmother must have sensed this. “Genevieve said that you would likely have no recollection of the episode. It is a common symptom of anxiety attacks—I don’t suppose you remember her either?”

  I shook my head. “I had an anxiety attack?”

  She nodded. “It is perfectly understandable, given your circumstances. But it is also the reason I felt it best to cancel your plans for attending school this year. You should rest.”

  I shook my head again. “If I sit at home, I’ll just constantly think about what happened in South Carolina. I won’t be able to escape it. I’ve been the “new kid” a lot— I know how to deal with that. Besides, if—when my mother shows up, she’ll be glad to see that I haven’t given up on school.”

  My grandmother looked unconvinced.

  “Please, I’d just be an emotional, depressed, mess if I sit at home all day,” I added. “School would be a welcome distraction.”

  That seemed to strike at something inside of her. “Very well. But under one condition.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me, that if you begin to feel anxious, or start to show any signs of mental fatigue—“

  “Mental fatigue?” I interrupted.

  “Sudden emotions or urges…even hearing voices—hear me out. If you experience any of these things, promise me that you will let me know immediately, even if you have to come home from school.”

  I just stared. She was serious. That nightmare was terrible, but it wasn’t anything close to hearing voices. That said, if I was “out of it” enough to pass out in the maze—of all places—and not remember why or how I got there, could I really say that I wouldn’t?

  “I promise,” I said. “I’ll come straight to you.”

  “Very good,” she smiled. “Ana?”

  “Yes?”

  “You know that I would do anything in my power to protect you, right? That that is my number one priority?”

  I nodded.

  “Always remember that. Always. I’d see myself dead before I’d allow anything, or anyone, to hurt you.” />
  I took notice of the fact that she stressed ‘anyone.’ "Did they catch that boy who snuck up here earlier?"

  "Oh yes, just one of the local boys anxious to get a look at you. I cannot imagine how he got around all of our security—anyhow, that has been corrected. I have no doubt that his intrusion is partly to blame for your sudden nightmares. Again, I must apologize for my carelessness. Did he say anything to you?"

  "He wanted to know if I remembered him," I replied. “It's weird because I wasn't scared like I probably should have been. I just knew that he shouldn't be here. I can't shake the feeling that I did know him somehow—I don't know." I shook my head. "Anyway, it's hard to believe that anybody would go through so much trouble just to speak to me."

  "You are far more special than you know, child. Now, enough of that. It is time for you to rest."

  She touched my hand and whispered something. Calm fell over me and I took a deep breath. “I pray that this will keep your dreams peaceful,” she said, before standing up from the bed. As she moved for the door, I let my head fall back onto my pillows. My thoughts were still on school.

  “When does school start, again?” I asked, catching her just before she’d reached my doorway.

  “Tomorrow morning, if I’m not mistaken.” She chuckled. “Better get your rest.”

  She flipped off the light switch, and I rolled over, wondering what tomorrow would be like. I just prayed that I would be okay. “No voices,” I told myself.

  Something tickled the side of my neck. I jumped out of bed. It was only the wind. Somehow, my curtain had been pulled back and my balcony door left open again, allowing the night air to slip through unimpeded. Weird. It wasn’t like that a minute ago.

  Maybe it had. Maybe I just hadn’t noticed it before. I moved around the bed, and over to the glassed wall. My eyes settled on the maze of hedges, they were enormous. What was I doing in there? Then, as if to answer, my eyes shifted to the lake in the distance. My heart began to pound in my chest and my knees began to wobble. I left the curtains open and stumbled back into bed. Was this an anxiety attack? I grabbed a pillow and wrapped my arms around it. “Breathe,” I told myself. “Just breathe.” I closed my eyes and saw my green eyed stranger there; he smiled at me, and I was calm again.