by Dale Mayer
She carried the box out to the living room to find the girls waiting for her.
“Is that them?” Tori asked.
Celeste nodded. “It is. Are you ready?”
The other two nodded.
“Let’s go, ladies,” Matt said impatiently from the front door. “There is a storm building out here.”
The women exchanged worried looks and ran outside. “That’s not a normal storm,” Celeste cried. “That’s what Granny would call a cyclical storm.”
Matt ushered them into the hovercraft. “What is that?” he asked.
“One that needs our help.”
He shot them a surprised look then slammed the door closed. “You’re not helping with any storms. Not today.”
“You don’t understand, Matt,” Celeste said. “It’s not a choice. If the storm needs us, it will get us, no matter what. It always came for Granny, asking for help.”
Connor lifted the hovercraft up into the air. “Not today, it won’t.”
He was just rising up above the cottage, when there was a huge crack of lightning that directly struck the hovercraft.
*
Matt reached out and grabbed the stick shift that Connor was struggling to control. “I’ll handle this, you steady the craft.”
A loud din overtook the cabin.
“I’m trying,” Connor yelled.
“Hang on,” Matt called to the back of the hovercraft. The vehicle lurched sideways and slid down toward the ground, a weird, screaming sound filling the air.
“Go back,” Genesis yelled. “We have to go back.”
Matt shot her a disbelieving look. “There’s no way. We’ll never make it.”
“You don’t understand,” Celeste snapped. “We have to. We return willingly, or we are returned by force, but we have to go back.”
He glared at her, but just then, a screech ripped across their voices and the shuttle swerved and lurched to the side again.
“I can’t control it,” Connor shouted, his hands busy on the controls.
“There is no controlling this,” Genesis shouted back at him. “Take your hands off.”
He swiveled as if to look to see if she meant it, and then, with a disbelieving look at Matt, he slowly lifted his hands off the shuttle console. Immediately, the hovercraft leveled off, before descending at a normal, albeit slightly faster, pace.
“What the hell?” Matt whispered, as everything in his belief system took a jarring step back. How was this possible? He’d been blown away when the women had managed to transport the vehicle with them in it this morning, but to think an electrical storm was taking over and controlling this vehicle and doing so in a safe manner—yeah, he didn’t think anything would be the same again.
How could it be?
The vehicle landed, a little rough but safely, in front of the cottage. Leaving everything onboard, the three sisters hopped out and walked to the edge to the yard.
Matt and Connor raced behind. Celeste reached up an arm and held her hand out to stop them. “No closer. You’ll get hurt.”
She turned to look at her sisters. “We haven’t played the storm game in forever.”
“Decades,” Tori said, her gaze on the storm racing toward them. “I never connected that game to this, though. There’s nothing playful about this.”
“It can’t be anything else,” Genesis yelled above the din. “I think everything we did, including the games, was training.”
“But for what?” Tori asked.
“To take Granny’s place. To do whatever was needed to heal the woods and keep us safe,” Celeste cried, her arms instinctively going back, her face lifting to the dark sky, the wind whipping her long, dark hair around her face.
Matt wanted to get closer, to tug her back towards him, to safety, but he couldn’t move his feet. “Connor, can you move?”
“No, my feet are stuck to the ground, somehow,” Connor cried out. He raised his arm and pointed to the mass of dark-blue clouds almost upon them. “Look!”
Matt froze. “Oh, dear God. What is that?”
“It’s the cyclical storm.” Genesis whispered in awe. “We haven’t seen one in a long time. And never one this big. We used to play a game with little ones, but nothing like this superstorm.”
Play games? Matt couldn’t begin to comprehend the idea. He’d held Granny in such high regard, but to put her granddaughters in danger with a storm like this? And now…now he had no idea what to think…
The storm whipped forward and rolled right over them. So much for the cottage and surrounding area being safe.
The wave of clouds struck, so dark and dense he couldn’t see, and he couldn’t move. He raised his arms to protect his head as the wind raged on. Through the darkness he watched all three sisters stand, their hands joined and raised in supplication to the elements.
And then Celeste rose off the ground.
Chapter 23
Celeste let the old nursery rhyme roll through her head, seeing the child she was, remembering her granny’s constant reminder to learn the chant by rote. That the woods needed her. That the sky needed her. That the world around her needed her.
She could feel the power surge through her, as her body rose higher and higher. She was still connected to her sisters. Still connected to the world around her, but no longer to the ground beneath her.
She could hear the storm work inside the thick clouds. Energy twisted, weaving and repairing the world around her. Now, she understood. It wasn’t that the storm was different than the others she’d seen, but that it was working to repair the damage that had been done below, and the damage done was worse than before.
She was a stargazer. This land was hers to protect. That someone had damaged it meant that the energy had to be repaired immediately. And it wasn’t just the energy. It was the water. The land. The animals.
At that moment, she realized something else, as well. She didn’t have just an affinity for animals, but for all things. She glanced over at her sisters, and saw the same awareness on their faces as the cyclical storm healed and regrew the world below. The stargazer cottage was so special that it could never be destroyed, but the outlying areas that worked to camouflage the cottage operated at a lower level. It had been sacrificed to keep the cottage safe. The cottage and everything in it.
Sacrificed because it could be rebuilt.
She smiled and felt great joy surge through her. This heritage that she’d been gifted with…it was a huge responsibility, but with that came the power to do what was necessary.
She was powerful. Her sisters were powerful. They belonged to a special line of great women, and maybe, just maybe, they could do damn near anything they needed to, if it was for the greater good of their home and lineage. Healing the land around the cottage was just one more part of the whole special ecosystem. It had been injured. That inner call prompting her to return to the cottage was less about the dresses and more about the cottage calling them home. They’d escaped this morning, but there was no escaping their fate, now.
They were destined to do this. To be the healers of their world. Heal themselves on the inside, thus healing everything else.
She laughed, the sound joyous as it rippled outward into the midst of the raging energy. She stared at the world, her gaze taking in the roots being regrown, the dirt no longer blackened and charred. The tiny critters inside the ground back again, as the ecosystem restored itself. Small saplings regrew bigger, better, and stronger. She watched as that vast wasteland turned back into the lush forest she knew and loved in no time. One area was slower to fill in. She pointed a finger at it, showing her sisters. They joined hands and sent energy flying in that direction. Instantly growth happened.
They were really doing this.
She grinned at her sisters. “Who knew?”
Tori, in a soft gentle voice, said, “Granny knew. She had to have known. She did this all these years, until we were big enough to do so ourselves.”
“She hung on for u
s,” Genesis said. “And I, for one, am so damn grateful. We’d have struggled to do this even a year ago.”
Celeste nodded. “I’m not sure I could have done this even days ago.”
“No, you had to heal with Matt, first,” Tori said, a beautiful smile on her face. “We all had to. The men are part of that balance. As always, the world needs us both. And we need them.”
As suddenly as it started, the storm eased back. The three sisters stared into the darkness. Celeste smiled as it lightened in front of them. Turning from deep darkness to a wonderful golden glow. The air itself was healing, replenishing the atmosphere with not only healthy air but joy and peace, replacing the darkness with light and the evil with goodness.
As she slowly lowered down to the ground, Celeste looked at the flowers around her. They flashed and smiled with colors again. Buds and butterflies flitted around. Beautiful. Normal.
“Look,” Genesis said urgently. “Look!”
Celeste raised her gaze, and gasped. “Granny!”
And there she was.
In the middle of the clouds, more beautiful, younger, at peace, than they’d ever seen before, was Granny’s face. Celeste didn’t dare breathe or blink, in case her beloved Granny disappeared.
“Are we imagining this?” Tori asked. “Seeing her face in the clouds like another game we played as a kid?”
“No,” Celeste whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “It’s her.”
“Why? How?” Genesis said. “Granny, why are you in there?”
Celeste waited, hoping to hear her Granny’s voice once again. To have confirmation that she truly was there. Granny tilted her head back, her gaze going to the top of the clouds, and smiled, a beam of golden joy that touched them all.
A voice whispered across the sky. “I’m here because I’m on my way to the stars. We’re stargazers, beloved children. When our time comes, we return to the stars, where we can then gaze down and protect those that are below.”
With that she lowered her gaze and gave each of them a breathtaking smile matching her smiling eyes. “I will always watch over you.”
And she was gone.
The storm clouds disappeared.
The air calmed.
And finally, like a string had been cut, the three women collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
*
Matt raced toward Celeste, his mind still arguing with what he’d seen, what he’d thought he’d heard. Surely that hadn’t really been Granny up there, had it? And the words he’d sworn he’d heard her say to her granddaughters—was such a thing possible? Was she not only a stargazer, as in threw and read the star charts, but also a stargazer, as in a stargazing down on this world below?
Again his mind shifted through the things he thought he knew. To some place where nothing was as he’d first known. There was so much to think about. So much to consider. Study. How…? Talk about mind-blowing. This changed everything. All this needed to be recorded. That was what the Paranormal Center was, at its heart. It was intended to preserve the nature of the paranormal world. The truth behind so many lies. The knowledge behind so much that was unknown. The secrets kept for future generations.
He studied Celeste’s face. There was such joy in her expression, a sense of peace. There was more to all of this, he knew that, but how long until she shared this truth with him? They’d come so far, and yet, in many ways, they hadn’t gotten anywhere. He couldn’t imagine the games her and her sisters had played growing up, if this was an example. It didn’t bear thinking about. No wonder Granny had fought so hard to get and keep the girls. He wondered if she’d not succeeded on her own, would that storm have swooped down and shifted life as they knew it, until the girls were returned to where they rightfully belonged? And had there been a price paid by those that had taken the life of the girls’ mother? Not enough of one, he believed, given that a stargazer had been murdered.
And if that had been Granny in the storm, where was the sisters’ mother? Had she gone into the sky above ahead of Granny? He couldn’t help it, he looked up at the bright sky and stared hard at the deep blueness. Did Celeste’s mother exist as a twinkling star? Really? It blew his mind.
“Matt,” Connor said at his side. “I think we need to get the women back the Center.”
He nodded but didn’t make a move to pick them up. “They look…” He shrugged, feeling stupid, but added, “Happy.”
“I know. At peace. It’s really amazing. But right now I’m more concerned with getting away. That might have been normal for the girls, but there’s no way that will ever become normal in my world.”
“I hear you. It changes everything.”
“And yet, nothing.” Connor stood, Genesis in his arms. “How many more times are we going to have to do this before we get to the end of this mess?”
Matt scooped Celeste up into his arms. “I don’t know. I suspect things are going to get really ugly now.”
“What?” Connor gave him a startled look.
“Think about it. What happens when this person realizes that all her destructiveness was wiped out in a moment? That she is powerless to permanently destroy these women?”
“Shit.” The word came out more as a whispered prayer.
“Yeah.”
The two men stood, set the women into their seats, and buckled them in securely in. Matt returned to carry Tori back to the hovercraft. “Do we know if this vehicle is capable of flying after that?”
“I don’t know,” Connor said from the pilot’s seat. “I’ve been running it through a safety-check right now.”
“Good.” Matt scrambled into the passenger chair. He glanced back at the cottage. “And then the cottage. Is it locked down? Secure?”
“That’s the last of my worries right now,” Connor said, flicking switches. “That place has more guardian angels than we are ever going to have.”
“True.” With a final glance at their unconscious and so damn precious cargo, Matt turned to Connor and said, “If you think it’s safe to fly, let’s get home.”
Chapter 24
This was becoming a bad habit. Celeste had woken to the sight of Matt’s ceiling once again. And again, she was lying on the top of his bed, with a blanket thrown over her body. She was tired, but buzzed. Energized but fatigued. Silky and Darbo curled on either side of her neck, snuggled up tight. Minkel held her hand, and damned if Smurg wasn’t perched on her other arm.
To top it off, Twitch lay on her chest, snuggled up between her breasts. She marveled at what she was seeing. She’d never really had this much physical contact with them. She held them, cuddled them, and even kissed them, although that didn’t work very well, but to lie here like this… Well…that was special.
A whole day of special events.
She smiled, remembering the storm. The hovercraft being taken over. Granny. Quiet tears slipped from the corner of her eyes. Granny had been in that storm. Controlling it. Wielding the power. Showing the girls what they could do. What they would at one time be called to do.
“You feeling okay?” Matt’s caring voice rolled over her.
She let her head fall to the side so she could see him. His face was wreathed with worry.
She smiled. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “The tears are good tears.”
His face cleared. “If you say so,” he said. “Although I doubt Connor and Devon are going to believe that from your sisters, any more than I’m believing it from you.”
She laughed lightly. “I got to see Granny again, that was bittersweet,” she said. “So tears because she’s gone, but good tears as I had that last moment with her and know she’s okay. She’s in a good place now.”
“Is she?”
She studied his searching gaze, realizing how much he had to adapt. “I guess that was a bit much for you, wasn’t it?”
“It was out there,” he agreed. “I saw Granny’s face in the clouds, heard her voice, but believing what I saw…”
“And since you’ve been back a
t the Center, the further away from the event, the more disbelieving you have become.” At his shrug, she smiled. “That’s okay. Just know that you saw what you saw, in case of a similar future event.”
His face twisted in alarm.
“And the fact that down the road, we—my sisters and I—will also go into that storm as we travel to stars above.”
He sat down, hard. “Is that really what happens? What she said?”
“It is.” Now the tears were falling in earnest. “I never realized what I’d seen before. Missed my chance to experience that at a whole new level.”
“Before?” Matt had to pounce on the word she’d let slip.
“It happened once before, like this, but with a different face.” She sighed. “One I didn’t recognize.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Your mother?”
She gave him a sad smile. “Yes, my mother. Only, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I was just a child. And now the opportunity is lost. She’s gone, and Granny has taken her place.”
“But at least you know she’s okay, like your granny,” he said in a quiet voice. “That is worth so much.”
She nodded. “I know. And you’re right. It would have been nice to have seen her at least once. I never knew her. Granny was our everything. She kept our mother alive inside our heads, but that’s not the same thing as seeing her, knowing who she is, deep inside.”
“True, but having the assurance that she has moved on to where she belongs has to be worth a lot.”
“Even if that’s in the sky with the other stars,” she said, teasing him gently, knowing that had to fight with all that knowledge he was so proud of.
“It appears that everything I thought I knew about stargazers and Granny, and indeed the reality of life around us, needs to be discarded and relearned,” he said in a slightly sour voice. “And new records kept track for future generations.”
“And maybe that’s why you are in charge of the Center,” she said. “Granny made sure you got that position.”