Perceive, Mosaic Chronicles Book Three

by Andrea Pearson

Nicole nodded and gave her word to Albert.

  What Austin said was true, and it would be a while before she’d be able to stop reliving the experiences they’d had while in Arches National Park. Nicole had nearly killed herself by forcing her powers to go beyond what she was ready to handle. Wood was under Earth powers, and since she hadn’t mastered her own abilities, it was dangerous for her to mess around with Earth.

  “How old is this cello?” she asked. The one that belonged to Mrs. Morse in Ohio had been at least a hundred years old—she could sense that while playing. And this cello felt even older than that.

  Albert scratched his head, thinking. “Let’s see . . . around three hundred years.”

  Nicole’s eyes widened. “How can you be sure?”

  “Easy. It’s one of sixty remaining Stradivari.”

  Nicole gasped. “It’s … it’s a Stradivarius? Why on earth are you letting me touch it, let alone take it home?”

  “It’s on loan to you for only a week, maybe two. If you don’t develop your powers before the time is up, you’re welcome to stay here temporarily.” He motioned out the window. “My tenant’s daughter comes and cleans for me for several hours every day, as payment for letting them continue living on the property, and she would keep you company. Honestly, she could even benefit from . . . well . . . from meeting a girl close to her age who isn’t so sheltered.”

  Nicole shrugged. “I’ll consider it.” She hoped she’d develop her abilities before then, just to prevent the hassle of having to move around so much, but a week or two wasn’t a lot of time.

  Lizzie frowned. “So, you’re letting Nicole borrow a priceless cello. What are we giving you in return?”

  “Professor Coolidge has provided me with something of equal importance.”

  “What could possibly be worth millions of dollars?” Lizzie asked.

  Albert shrugged. “Not much that I would need or want. But what I’m getting is worth millions of hours. It’s an automatic food preserver.”

  “An automatic food preserver?” Austin asked. “I’ve never heard of one.”

  Nicole smiled that it made even Austin speak up—such a rare occurrence.

  “That’s because only one exists. The family that still lives on my property is sort of Amish. They don’t have power or plumbing, and they maintain no connection to the outside world. I allow them to stay as long as they provide me with food. And they do—they grow quite an abundance. I preserve almost all of it myself. It’s much cheaper than buying food from a grocery store that’s over half an hour of a drive. But, as you probably know, preserving foods the old-fashioned way can be very time-consuming.

  “With the automatic food preserver, my life will become much easier. You put the ingredients in one side and the canning containers in another, and the machine does the rest. Boiling, steaming, heating, cleaning, zipping, sealing, everything. Magic is involved, of course, because no machine would be able to do it all.”

  Nicole shook her head. She had to admit, something like that would be very handy.

  Just then, a man with a sparse, graying beard stepped into the doorway. He held a hat in his hands and wore a pair of faded overalls.

  “Oh, Winston,” Albert said. “Come in and meet my friends.”

  Winston entered the room, a large grin on his face. He shook hands with everyone as Albert introduced them. He was followed by a teenage girl with brown, sparkly eyes and dark ringlets. She wore a dress that reminded Nicole of a real pioneer. It was obvious by how similar the two looked that she was Winston’s daughter.

  “Winston and his family are the tenants I was telling you about.” Albert motioned the girl forward. “This is Prudy, Winston’s oldest daughter. She’s the one who comes to clean every day.”

  Prudy curtsied, her long dress bunching as she dipped. She held a basket full of apples in her hands. A bonnet hung down her back.

  Coolidge motioned to Winston. “Albert here was telling us that a meteor struck near your house.”

  Winston bobbed his head. “Yeah, it did. ‘Cept, it didn’t struck—it appeared.” He pointed to the basket of apples Prudy carried. “That meteor done somethin’ good, I tell ya. It gone and made the crops produce in overabundance!” He stepped to his daughter’s side and pulled out several apples, then passed them around the room. “My best crop of Granny Smiths this year. And ya’ll get the pleasure of bein’ the first to try ’em.”

  Winston blinked, looking at everyone. “Well, go ahead.”

  Nicole looked down at the apple in her hand. It was beautiful—huge, bright green, luscious. The prettiest Granny Smith she’d ever seen. She rubbed off a spot, then took a bite, noticing the others do the same.

  She immediately gagged, spitting the apple flesh out of her mouth, grabbing for her glass of lemonade, nearly knocking it over in her hurry to get it. She wasn’t the only one—all the others were gulping down their drinks, trying to remove the awful taste from their mouths. It was repulsive—like rotted worms that had died while eating pizza.

  Nicole finished off her glass, but the flavors still burned on her tongue, making her eyes smart. Nothing she did helped.

  Winston stood there, horrified, a look of shock on his face. Then he raced around, grabbing the apples from Albert and his visitors. “I’m sorry—so sorry,” he said over and over again. He and Prudy rushed from the room, carrying the basket.

  They returned moments later with tall glasses of milk, which everyone accepted gratefully.

  “I don’t know what happened to them apples,” Winston said. “They’re usually so good.”

  Nicole downed the glass of milk, noticing that the taste of rot subsided. She leaned back in her chair, breathing deeply, rubbing her face and the tears from her eyes.

  Austin coughed. “I don’t think I’ll have another apple, if that’s all right.”

  Winston chuckled, then apologized again, but Albert stopped him. “It’s not your fault—these things happen.”

  Winston nodded. “I know. I’m still sorry.”

  Prudy took everyone’s now-empty glasses, and she and Winston left, obviously ashamed and embarrassed.

  “How humiliating,” Nicole said. “They couldn’t possibly have known that would happen.”

  Albert shook his head. “No, they couldn’t have.”

  Wanting to wash her face, Nicole asked where the bathroom was, then excused herself. Following Albert’s directions, she passed through several rooms and down a hallway until she found the place. It had obviously once been a closet that was converted sometime after indoor plumbing was invented. The light was dim and the room smelled of old wood.

  Nicole washed her face, relishing the feel of cool water, especially after that experience with the apple. She peered at herself in the mirror, noticing that all traces of makeup were now long gone.

  “Stupid, disgusting apple,” she whispered.

  She pulled mascara out of her purse and applied it, then noticed a spider crawling along the sink. “Oh, great,” she whispered, then glanced in the mirror, looking behind herself. The bathroom was still empty.

  “I know you’re here,” Nicole said. “Just . . . just come out.”

  A faint white outline appeared next to her, then strengthened in substance until the old woman Nicole knew to expect after seeing spiders stood next to her.

  Nicole frowned. “I thought we had an agreement that I wouldn’t read the book until I’m ready to.” Nicole knew that wasn’t exactly the promise she’d made while in Arches, but she hoped the old woman wouldn’t remember.

  “You must read it, Nicole.”

  Nicole jumped, hand on her heart. “You can talk? Since when can you talk?”

  The old woman shook her head, her long gray hair billowing around her. “Read the book.”

  Nicole sighed in exasperation. “I’ll think about it.” She put her mascara in her purse and left the bathroom, heading through the manor to the instrument room.

  “It’s time to go,” Coolidge said
. He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Albert. “You’ve already got my cell, but I’d like to get frequent updates on the situation with the meteor.” He pointed to the card. “That the number to my office, where I spend a lot of time. My cell doesn’t work there. Feel free to call me if you ever need help.”

  Albert agreed to do so, then escorted the four out to Coolidge’s car, where he helped Austin and Coolidge remove his new contraption from the trunk. Once the food preserver was set up in the manor and the space was clear, Albert brought out the cello and gently placed it in the trunk, tucking blankets around the case to keep it from sliding.

  When he’d finished, he glanced up at Nicole. “There are obviously much better ways to transport a cello of this worth. But seeing as how most cars can’t make it to the manor, this will have to do.”

  Nicole was quiet the whole way home, thinking about the cello and the old woman. She didn’t look forward to being in the same room with that book again—the one the woman wanted her to read. At the start of school a couple of months earlier, she’d touched it and had awakened it, then for several weeks, it, and the creepy shadow that dwelled in it, had followed her everywhere. Coolidge had locked it away in a magical cabinet in his office, where it waited, gaining strength, calling to her.

  Now that Nicole knew how to Channel and would be developing her powers, the time to read the book was upon her. She only hoped she’d be ready for whatever happened.

  Chapter Two

  Sunday evening, back in her apartment, Nicole received an email from Coolidge, asking if she wanted to continue her study sessions with him, Toby, and Pete. They met three times a week to focus on cello Wind Arete abilities, and the sessions had really helped her. She emailed him back saying yes, and he responded right away, letting her know that Austin would be joining them for tomorrow’s session.

  Nicole leaned back on the couch, staring at her laptop.

  Lizzie looked up from where she was doing homework on the other couch. “Something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Nicole tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Austin promised he’d help me learn to Channel . . . and I guess I expected him to contact me about it by now. It’s been a week since I got back from Ohio.”

  “You didn’t have another cello until yesterday, though.”

  “True . . . but Coolidge just told me that Austin is coming to our study session tomorrow. I don’t want to read too much into it, but does that mean he’s not wanting to study with me one-on-one? Or is this just for tomorrow?” Nicole looked up at her best friend. “Was I wrong about his feelings?”

  Lizzie put down her pen. “No, you weren’t. Austin is crazy about you—it was so obvious yesterday. He still can’t keep his eyes off you. And besides, he did kiss you on the expedition.”

  “All of that feels so trivial now without him actually calling or texting or contacting me in any way. And you know he didn’t talk to me at all while I was in Ohio.”

  “It’ll work out. I know it will.”

  Nicole nodded, then rested her head on the couch. “How are you and Nate?”

  Nate was Austin’s roommate, and he and Lizzie had become good friends. They went to parties all the time and talked and studied together frequently.

  “There’s no ‘me and Nate.’ I’m not interested in him. Not like that, anyway.”

  Nicole’s jaw dropped. “You? Not interested in a member of the opposite sex? Is it possible?”

  Lizzie chucked her pen at Nicole, grinning. “Knock it off, girl. He’s just a friend. And that would be way too weird—you dating Austin and me dating his roommate. Life never works out that way.”

  “Sure it does.” Nicole tossed the pen back to Lizzie, then shut her laptop. “Besides, I’m not dating Austin.” She held up her hand, silencing Lizzie’s retort. “Not yet, anyway. We’ll see what happens.”

  Lizzie pushed her books aside. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. You’re still going to be doing study sessions with Coolidge, even though you aren’t enrolled in classes. Do you want to come to classes with me? Mrs. Whitman’s, especially? She’d definitely let you audit, and there’s always room. That way, you can keep learning, and we’ll get to hang out more.”

  Nicole nodded. “Sounds like a great idea. Next semester will be pretty difficult—if we want to be in the same classes, I’ll need to work really hard to catch up—so this will help.”

  “And I’ll study with you. It’ll be fine.”

  Nicole knew Lizzie would—it had been that way since they’d met in second grade. Lizzie, the outgoing, bubbly one, and Nicole the serious, contemplative one—they’d made a great team for many years.

  ***

  Monday afternoon found Nicole standing outside Professor Coolidge’s office, where she would be working on Wind magic with Toby, Pete, Coolidge, and Austin. Butterflies in her stomach distracted her for a moment—she was about to see Austin again!—but she pushed those feelings aside. She wouldn’t let him know how excited and nervous she was to see him. Not yet, anyway—she needed to gauge his feelings first.

  As soon as Nicole stepped into the room, she felt the pulsings that originated from the magical cabinet where Coolidge had locked up the old book. It was calling to her, wanting her to come to it, to free it. She glared at the cabinet, wishing she could tell the stupid book to leave her alone for just a while longer. She was almost ready.

  Toby looked up from where he was playing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and grinned. Nicole sent him a smile, then claimed one of the empty chairs, glancing around the room. Pete was there. He readjusted his glasses and waved, his curly hair spilling forward. Coolidge said hi from his desk, not looking up. Austin hadn’t come yet.

  “How was Ohio?” Toby asked. His usually combed-to-the-side light brown hair had been gelled until it looked windblown. The new style complimented his high cheekbones, giving him a nice, fresh look. “And the expedition? It’s been a long time since you were here.”

  Nicole bit the inside of her cheek, remembering the text he had sent her before she went to Arches. He’d wanted to take her on a date. He hadn’t texted her since, and she wondered if he was waiting for her to say something. Probably. But what? She had to see if things would progress with Austin first. Not that Toby was less attractive or desirable—she just hadn’t felt anything toward him yet. At least, not on the same level as what she’d felt toward Austin.

  She still hesitated. “I’m not sure how to sum them up without taking an hour or two.”

  “I heard about Arches . . . and the caverns caving in on you and killing almost everyone.”

  Oh, yes. That was right—the government had decided to hide what really happened from the general populace. They’d made everyone who lived through the events practically sign their lives away until something was decided. Which meant nothing would be said for many years, if ever. But that wouldn’t stop the massive and dangerous creatures that had been found from returning.

  “Yeah, it was pretty scary.”

  Toby didn’t say anything else, and Nicole didn’t offer more information. She glanced at the clock, wondering if Austin was planning on showing up or not.

  Nicole unzipped the cello case, then carefully undid the straps that supported the antique instrument. The moment her hand brushed it, she felt that now-familiar zing. Would that happen every time she touched it?

  Coolidge’s door opened, and Austin entered. He nodded to Coolidge, then hesitated when he saw that the only empty chair left in the room was the one next to Nicole. He grumbled, yanked the chair away from the music stand, and plopped into it, pulling out a tablet. A sour expression was on his face.

  Nicole’s stomach dropped to somewhere around her feet. Why was he upset?

  “Hey, Austin,” she said after Toby and Pete had greeted him.

  He didn’t respond, and he didn’t look up from his tablet.

  She swallowed, then turned to the other guys. “So, I got a new cello.”
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  “Oooooh,” Pete said, his curly hair drifting into his eyes again as he leaned over to see. “What kind?”

  “You’ll never guess.”

  “It’s a Stradivarius,” Austin said, still not looking up. “And no, neither of you can touch it. Not even I can. Only Nicole has permission to use it.”

  Nicole frowned, disappointed that Austin had spoiled her surprise. She pulled out the cello’s endpin and tightened her bow, then sat back in her chair, pretending not to be offended.

  “Let’s get started,” Austin said. He motioned to his tablet, then to Nicole. He still didn’t make eye contact. “I’ll be monitoring what happens when you play. Now that we’ve found your true focus for Channeling, we have to figure out your sub-ability.”

  “Sub-ability . . .” Nicole said, not wanting to look stupid for being unable to remember what that meant.

  Austin grunted. “The aspect of Wind that allows you to control it. Lizzie works with Fire, but she can’t actually make it grow. She only creates the spark that starts it.”

  Toby nodded. “And I’m able to pull moisture to myself, through the air. Pete here shuffles papers, if you’ll remember.”

  Nicole did—they’d both given her demonstrations during her first study session with them.

  “So,” she said, “we need to find mine.”

  “Exactly,” Toby said. He pointed to Austin. “Well, that’s what he’ll be doing. Once you figure it out, we’ll be able to help you strengthen it.”

  Austin glanced at Nicole, barely making eye contact before looking away. “Start playing. Clear your mind first, then concentrate on your breathing. Once that’s happened, you may begin allowing your powers to escape through your cello. Keep your eyes closed—it’ll be easier if you don’t see anything at first. I’ll watch for you.”

  Nicole lifted her bow, then put it to her strings and started. She refused to think of Austin sitting next to her. What had changed? He was acting so odd, so abrupt.

  Nicole turned her attention to her playing. Her immediate song of choice was Smetana’s Moldau, and she played it quietly, barely thinking about the notes as they flew from her fingers. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind, then concentrated on her breathing. Once she felt like it was under control, Nicole reached out to the imaginary dam that held back her powers. Only, this time there was no dam—nothing was blocking it. The magic had already flowed through and was flooding around her, soaking her, making her gasp for breath.