Extraordinary

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Extraordinary Page 14

by Amanda McGee

“How did you do this, Sade?”

  “I wanted to know if I could, so I just tried.”

  “I feel so calm.”

  “I have been curious ever since we heard about Mom’s abilities. I focused and I did it! I figured you would be the perfect test subject since you looked like your head was about to explode.”

  Sadie’s once rigid posture slouched and the calm was gone.

  “Is it just me or does it seem like the more answers we get the more questions we have? It’s siblings and magic, then witches and new worlds, now its tutoring sessions with our grandfather and gorgeous—” I trailed off, realizing my rant was going further than intended.

  “Mmm hmm, gorgeous dream guy!”

  I narrowed my eyes hoping to intimidate her from continuing. Although I trusted her, I could tell it was in her innocently romantic nature to butt-in.

  Blaze entered the room again, this time with less boom and enthusiasm.

  “James wants you next, Sadie,” he said.

  Sadie skipped to the door and her dance progressed as she moved down the hallway.

  “This house is enormous,” I said, closing the door behind her. “I guess teaching pays well in Haliwick.”

  “You want to see what I can do?” Blaze asked, obviously not interested in my topic of discussion.

  I shot him a thumbs-up. “But don’t tear the house down.”

  We met in the center of the room and he extended his hand, palm upward. He stared at it for a moment seemingly trying to collect his confidence. Then he closed his eyes. Suddenly, his eyes sprung wide open and looked directly at me causing me to flinch. A bluish-white light appeared in his hand.

  Holy…Wow!

  “I knew your expression would be epic,” he said.

  “That is much better than my stupid visions. I take it your session with James was a success.”

  “What can I say? The man knows his stuff. Now I can control it and not kill us all.”

  “Thank God for small miracles.”

  Blaze closed his hand and the light disappeared. There were no remnants of the flame or ashes or burns left behind.

  I lay down on the couch and fiddled with the fringe on a throw pillow. Blaze flipped through the large book James had taken from the shelf when our chat began.

  Blaze could manifest balls of energy and Sadie could hypnotize and I got too-late visions and useless dreams. As far as magic powers went, I got the short end of the stick.

  “Stupid short stick.”

  “What?” Blaze asked.

  “Nothing. Just being a baby. So what did you and James talk about?”

  Blaze’s attention was focused on the novel and he did not hear a word I said. I walked over and tried to grab the book but his grip was strong. A game of tug-o-war ensued. Blaze, barely exerting any effort, held the hardcover firmly between his hands while I pulled from above. My hands slid off the pages and slapped me square in the face.

  “Ah,” I said. “That is just so something I would do.”

  “I didn’t answer because I can’t tell you,” Blaze said, laughing at me. “It’s secret information.”

  “Oh well, ten-four Agent Ryan,” I said with a salute.

  I made mocking faces in Blaze’s direction, resisting the urge to rub my throbbing forehead. I noticed several tiny, yet incredibly painful, paper cuts along the inside of my fingers. I was wearing thin with the constant injuries. The universe was out to get me.

  “Whoa,” I said. “That was weird.”

  “What was?”

  “My paper cuts healed.”

  “Like your arm—”

  “James!” we yelled.

  We both pounced across the room. How this managed to slip our minds was astonishing, at least to me. Sadie practically crashed through the door, James following a few seconds later.

  “Is it possible for a person to have advanced healing abilities?” I asked.

  “It is very possible,” he said. “Why?’

  “Because I have it.”

  ****

  Chapter Fourteen

  James’ face stayed buried in several books, each similarly aged and voluminous, for the better part of an hour. My revelation had thrown him into a vortex of intellectual investigation.

  “Accelerated healing is very unusual. There have only been a few people throughout our history with that ability,” he had announced before his studying began.

  Occasionally, James would nod or mumble to himself. Blaze, Sadie, and I sat patiently waiting for him to include us in his findings.

  I wasn’t sure where Tristan had gone.

  I had convinced myself that Riley had left before Tristan ever descended the staircase several hours ago.

  I willed him to return, if only for a second. I wished to be near him, to see him smile or to have him simply be in the room. It was absurd to crush this hard on someone I had only known for a day but the longer he was out of sight the more my resolve weakened and I did not care how silly I was being.

  Glancing back to James, whose attention was still deep in one of his texts, I imagined Tristan causally resting on a barstool in the kitchen. Perhaps, reading the newspaper.

  They have newspapers, right?

  Before I knew I’d made a decision, my muscles began to pull me from my lounged position on the squeaky leather couch. I moved an inch or so at a time attempting to avoid drawing attention to myself. The couch had other ideas—my body screeched against the cushions.

  Peering around the room, no one was paying me any mind. Blaze and Sadie were scattered about the large space lost in their own momentary distractions. Blaze reclined in the aged leather chair Tristan had once sat in as he skimmed through one of James' epic manuscripts and Sadie wandered around the room inspecting the extensive library. I had no idea why I felt the need to be so covert. We were at my grandfather’s house, not locked in a prison. Annoyed with the conspicuous couch and myself, I rolled my eyes and jumped to my feet.

  “Alex!” James shouted.

  “What? I’m, uh, going to the, uh, nothing,” I mumbled.

  “Healing abilities are rare and only found in persons of a specific genetic makeup. Some believe that the reason for this scarcity is because it defies the laws of nature and magic.”

  “Doesn’t magic defy the laws of nature?” Blaze asked.

  “Nature as you know it,” James responded. “Having healing capabilities makes a person invulnerable to injury or possibly even death.”

  “Wait! Are you saying I can’t die?”

  James scanned through the book, flipping each page with a feverish motion that frightened me more. I interpreted his response as him being convinced. Sweat beaded up on my forehead then rolled down my cheekbone like a teardrop. While most people would probably revel in the idea of being immortal, eternal life was more life than I cared to live. I had yet to figure out how to live one lifetime, I did not need to burden of several.

  “It seems you do have a certain type of healing ability. The extent of it is unknown and, frankly, I do not care to test it, but there is no reason to believe that you cannot die. You’re just harder to kill.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite,” James said. “Healing is rare in itself, immortality is unheard of. It goes against our beliefs as a culture but I wanted to make sure.”

  We each let out a collective sigh followed by a united giggle. It seemed ridiculous that we found relief in knowing I could die. Although, I did not wish to die anytime soon, knowing that I would not outlive everyone I knew and be an even bigger freak was oddly liberating. But I did hope we could all master the art of delivering bad news. Tact was severely lacking in our group.

  “Sorry I interrupted your session,” I said, embarrassed for causing such a scene. “I’m calm now. Please continue.”

  You have super-powered healing abilities—cause a damn scene!

  “We were finished, it’s your turn,” James said, extending his arm toward the door.

  Strolling down
the hallway, I was able to fully absorb the majestic nature of his home.

  The walls towered above us. Down the length of each wall large photographs of people I imagined to be late family members with tight smiles in their Sunday best alternated with ornate doors into what I imagined to be other equally intriguing rooms.

  If the hallway provided that amount of fascination, I could barely contain my eagerness to see the other rooms. James and I entered the last door on the left, at the opposite end from Mom’s old room. I took one step inside and my mouth dropped open at the spectacle of the massive ballroom.

  There was not a bit of dark brown or leather in sight, other than the two chairs facing one another in the center of the golden tiled floor. Three crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling forming a triangular shape and depositing hundreds of drops of light around us. The warm taupe walls were divided into sections by floor-to-ceiling windows on either end. The side walls were adorned with various artworks of people, landscapes, and abstract images, hung two or three photographs per column. Everything worked together to create an elegant environment of golden sophistication.

  I could almost hear the whimsical melody from the piano in the corner, the toasting champagne flutes clinking, and the murmur of servers offering hors d'oeuvres. Gentlemen, all flawless and dapper in their finest tuxedos, twirled their blushing ladies around the dance floor as their stylish gowns billowed and sparkled. How enchanting it must have been.

  “Alex!” James shouted.

  My body jerked at his voice. It took several blinks and headshakes before my daydream would fade.

  “Alex, I want to be sure that you understand the gift that has been given to you. This is the only way of life we have known, but I predict it has been overwhelming for you.”

  “To say the least.”

  The very least.

  In true chivalrous fashion, James escorted me to the center of the room. The two chairs and chandelier hanging overhead gave the impression of an overly dressed interrogation area. Cautiously, or perhaps elegantly, I took my seat. Just being in this room made unimpressive me feel regal and refined. Gazing across the short distance between James and myself, I wondered what was next.

  I had often longed for the day that I would be privy to a lifelong accumulation of knowledge and wisdom. James possessed the qualities of a man structured by his decisions, his interactions, his missteps, and his fortunes.

  Sitting in the center of the most extravagant room I had ever seen, I knew I would leave with information that would get me one step closer to being that person. As far as I was concerned, I was already different, I had already been changed, and another lesson learned could never be a bad thing.

  “Once the burden of comprehension has passed, I hope you will view your abilities as a gift,” James began. “But more importantly your power is a privilege not a right. This applies more to Sadie and Blaze considering your powers are subjective but just remember to use them wisely and never tell another soul.”

  “My best friend Kate knows. She was with me when I found out. I trust her though.”

  He nodded in acceptance as if my trust in Kate was enough to satisfy his concerns.

  “Close your eyes and concentrate,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Meditation is a major part of your power. Without it your visions will be useless, and in a dangerous situation timing is critical. I will flood your mind with images and you will try to slow them, understand them.”

  Of course the scatterbrain gets the power that requires concentration.

  The enormous room reminded me how small I really was. I was but a small piece of that world…and my own. Somehow that comforted me. Then James reminded me why I was here. Hundreds of images flashed behind my eyes, projected by James as his actual lesson began.

  “Control it,” he said softly. “Slow them down.”

  The pictures flickered at a hurried rate causing more panic than a sense of control. I tried to focus on their development and train myself to relax. I had to deny my very nature. In order for this to work I must learn to control the only constant in my life—my overactive brain.

  After several failed attempts, a voice, maybe James’ or perhaps from within myself, reminded me to feel small again. Immediately, the process clicked. The images were broadcast one by one like a slide projector.

  I saw photographs of Haliwick, the trees standing guard over the houses below them, children playing in a field colored like a rainbow by the yellow, blue, orange, and red flowers that bloomed throughout, and then the season changed to reveal a blanket of winter snow covering the town just as beautifully as Tristan described on our walk to James’s.

  James upped his tests, making them progressively more difficult by adding additional images and increasing his speed but I was able to keep up with little effort. With each test, my ability to slow the images improved. The pace of the scene depended solely on my preference. Eventually, the images were no longer separate, but fluid like a video, even dialogue accompanied them.

  Then it all stopped.

  “I think you are ready,” he said.

  “Really? Was that enough time?”

  “You picked up on the process incredibly fast,” James responded. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

  “I know I can control them and I am relieved that they will be more useful to us,” I said. “What I am not able to control is the constant waiting and struggling to prepare myself for one.”

  “You can never prepare yourself for a situation that could put your loved ones in danger and you cannot stop living. You could go your whole life and never have another vision but you can’t let it control you either way.”

  “While we’re on the subject, how did you do that? Make the images appear in my head?”

  “Years and years of practice,” James answered. “We share in our abilities. I was blessed with the gift of visions also. I just studied and trained myself to use my ability in other ways.”

  If I could become half the person he was I would consider my life a colossal success. More so than that, anything that forced tranquility on my brain was worth pursuing. Ironic that it was migraine-inducing visions that taught me to relax.

  “Well, what about my dreams? I had dreams about Sadie, Blaze, and even Tristan before I met them. Are they really just a sort of foreshadowing of people I may meet?”

  “Sometimes dreams are just dreams. They can be your subconscious taking you on a trip, but considering your genetics they could just be a way of preparing you for something.”

  “Why didn’t I dream of you? I dreamed of everyone else but not you.”

  “Maybe you did but don’t remember or maybe Sadie, Blaze, and Tristan will play a bigger role in your existence. But I do find it incredibly interesting that you could dream of Tristan when usually this world is not visible to the outside world.”

  I could understand that Sadie and Blaze would have a starring role but Tristan was a big question mark. Regardless, the day had lessened my anxiety considerably and answered many questions. As far as I was concerned, any ability that prepared me for an impending life change was welcome.

  “The parent inside of me is telling me to offer you all a room here instead of sending you off to Tristan’s,” James said. “But I think you’ll be safer with Tristan.”

  Before I could ask why, a violent vision bombarded me. There was fire, fighting, and a lot of blood. I concentrated carefully hoping the scene was a misunderstanding. The images never altered. We were all fighting. We were all injured. James was badly hurt. His home was in flames. The agonizing screams were deafening. The emotions involved were the most devastating I had ever experienced.

  “Did you see that too?” I asked.

  “I did. We have to get you out of here.”

  Ignoring the wooziness, I dashed down the hallway like a madman, screaming for Sadie and Blaze. By the time I reached the study, they were standing in the doorway, with looks of terror on their faces.

  “T
hey are coming!” I screamed.

  “Who? Who’s coming?” Sadie yelped.

  “We have to go now,” I continued. “Where’s Tristan?”

  Tristan had made it up the stairs before I could turn my head to search for him.

  “We can’t stay here,” I raved. “James and his home are in danger if we stay. We have to go.”

  Sadie clung to Blaze frightened like the last time I had shouted for us to run. My abilities might have been fully functioning but I too lacked the art of breaking bad news delicately.

  “I can take you the back way to my house,” Tristan said.

  “Is that safe?” I asked.

  “I guarantee it is the safest place in town,” Tristan answered, placing a comforting hand on the small of my back.

  Even in a crisis, he had power over my emotions.

  James leaned in to distribute a quick hug to each of us.

  “Aren’t you going?” I asked. “You can’t stay here.”

  “No, dear I assure you I am perfectly safe here. Now go!”

  “We can’t leave you!” Sadie screamed. “You could be killed!”

  “They are only coming for you,” Tristan said. “They will follow where we go. James is of no concern to them.”

  “He is right,” James said. “Now please go. Do not worry, I promise I will be fine.”

  Tristan shoved me through the doorway as politely as he could. For once I was focused, and my movements and mind were steady. Blaze scooped Sadie onto his back using one arm. I think we were all aware that our emotions could get us all killed, so no one argued any further and Sadie and I did not take their assertiveness personally.

  We paraded down the driveway, James’s mansion fading behind us until it was but a speck on the massive evening horizon. Sadie was now on her own two feet and out-sprinting both Blaze and Tristan.

  When you had to run for your life, you ran very fast.

  ****

  Chapter Fifteen

  A sliver of moonlight slinked through a break in the wall-length curtains illuminating a pathway across the bedroom.

 

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