Volume 1: Bailex, #1

by Erin Everleigh

  “Thanks for this,” Kieran’s tone was sombre.

  Riya stopped folding and took a seat next to Kieran. “I’m sorry, Kieran. I know you don’t remember him, but it still must be hard.”

  Kieran swallowed the lump in his throat. “With my mother’s note. And this,” he raised the paper in the air, “it’s pretty safe to assume my father is dead.” He quickly swiped at a tear before it rolled down his cheek. Riya leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. They sat there for a few moments, neither saying anything.

  “I almost forgot!” Riya shot off the bed. “I’ll be right back.” She turned out of Kieran’s room toward her own.

  Kieran noticed a folded piece of paper where Riya had been sitting. He picked it up, slowly opening it along its creases. His breath caught when a face so similar to his own stared back at him. The likeness was uncanny. He stared into the eyes of a man who was undoubtedly his father. Kieran willed his mind to remember, to recognize more than his own resemblance. But there was nothing—nothing more than the awareness of loss.

  Riya reappeared five minutes later, with a light tap at the door.

  “Come in.” Kieran looked up from his folding. “I figured you’d rather not fold my underwear,” he smirked.

  “You figured right,” Riya smiled back.

  “You’re pretty sneaky, by the way.” Kieran held out the folded picture and then packed it into his bag.

  “I figured you’d probably want some privacy.”

  “Thank you.” He connected eyes with her and then went back to folding. “Does this mean you don’t have a special going away present for me that you forgot in your room?” He joked.

  “Well, actually I do!” Riya pulled something white and furry out of the front pocket of her hoodie. “This is for you.” She handed it to him. Kieran examined it, trying to figure out what it was.

  “It’s for luck,” Riya explained.

  “Thanks,” Kieran replied, still unsure of what he was holding.

  “Don’t you recognize it? It’s Bunny’s foot,” Riya proudly exclaimed.

  “Oh my gosh!” Kieran then recognized the tiny bald patch on the front of Bunny’s foot—a Bunny makeover mishap from a too close encounter with a hairdryer when Riya was 5. “Why did you…? You mutilated Bunny!” Kieran smoothed the white fluffy foot of Riya’s stuffed bunny that had kept her company every night since she was a baby. One of the only items she kept from her life before.

  “A rabbit’s foot is supposed to be good luck. And because it’s mine, it should bring you even better luck.” Riya smiled.

  Kieran wrapped his arms around Riya and squeezed tightly. This was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him.

  “I wish you could come with me,” Kieran admitted.

  “So do I,” Riya went back to folding a pair of his jeans. “But then I would miss out on my shopping trip to New York with Patti. Not much can get in between a girl and her clothes,” Riya winked at him, and Kieran started to laugh.

  Within minutes, the two of them finished folding the pile of clothes. Kieran added in a few books and some toiletries and joined Riya who was sitting cross-legged on his bed.

  “I’m going to miss you, Ri.”

  “I’m going to miss you too.” Riya placed her hand on Kieran’s knee. “But we can email and talk on the phone if you are allowed. Not too much though,” she raised her eyebrows, “you need to be soaking everything in. This is seriously the coolest thing ever. And I’ve done some pretty cool things in my days,” Riya tried to lighten the mood. “I’ll be expecting a very detailed report.”

  “I think I can handle that.”

  “I know you can,” Riya winked.

  Kieran fell backward, collapsing onto his bed with his feet left hanging over the edge. “I’m nervous,” he confessed and brought his right arm across his body to rest over his eyes. “All of a sudden, I’ve become one of those characters in the fantasy novels that I’ve been reading for so many years. Fantasy novels, Riya!” He repeated himself, raising his arm from his eyes for a moment to make sure she was listening. “Magic portals, seeing the future, a man who is more than 200 years old…” Kieran paused letting all that had happened since his twelfth birthday chronologically play out in his mind—proving to himself, once again, that this was all in fact real. “What if I mess up? What if the others don’t like me? What if I don’t even want to go?” He sighed.

  “Kieran, look at me.”

  Riya waited. When Kieran didn’t move, she stretched out on the bed to face him, supporting herself on her elbow.

  “This is not a first for you, Kieran. Not entirely. How many times have you had to start a new school? Move in with a new family?”

  “I’ve lost count.”

  “See, our less than optimal childhoods can be good for something. Adapting to change. Finding our place. This isn’t so different if you look at it that way. You’ll be just fine, Kieran.” Riya lifted Kieran’s arm, uncovering his eyes. He turned his head to face her.

  “I wish none of this ever happened,” Kieran blurted out. His eyes filled with moisture that he refused to let fall.

  “I know.” Riya scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

  They lay together in that position, staring at the ceiling until their eyes fell heavy and sleep found them.

  ***

  “Knock, knock. Rise and shine.”

  Without opening his eyes, Kieran listened to Patti’s footsteps cross his room. With the swoosh of the blinds being pulled open, light flushed in, filling every corner. Kieran turned away from the window to let his eyes adjust and found Riya still curled up next to him.

  “Come on, lazies. Let’s get moving. We’re leaving in thirty minutes so we can get some grub before we have to drop you off, Kieran.”

  Laughter bubbled from their lips, but they didn’t make a move.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Grub?” Riya questioned, rolling onto her back to eye Patti.

  “What?? Isn’t that what the kids call it these days?”

  “No kids that I know.” Riya pulled herself to a seated position and twisted her hair into a bun.

  “Okay then, I’ll try again,” Patti smirked. “We’re leaving for Pancake Palace at 11:30 a.m.—only twenty-nine minutes from now…so get moving.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Riya joked and saluted Patti, making all of them laugh.

  “All packed up?” Patti motioned to Kieran’s stuffed duffel.

  “Yup. Just have to add my toothbrush to my backpack.”

  “I’ll take this one down for you then.” Patti grasped the handles of the duffel and slung it over her shoulder. Just before exiting the room, she looked back to Kieran’s clock. “Twenty-eight minutes,” she warned, then turned into the hallway, chuckling as she headed down the stairs.

  “I call dibs on the bathroom,” Riya was out of there in a flash.

  Kieran slowly rose, instantly aware that, for the first time in weeks, the heaviness in his head had considerably subsided. He gave his head a little shake—just to be sure—and then reached into the drawer of his nightstand for the bottle of orange liquid he had concealed there the day before.

  Bailixir - you are my saviour.

  He kissed the bottle before securing it in his backpack for later.

  ***

  “This is good,” Kieran instructed. “I can cross the street from here.”

  Jim pulled the car to the side of the road. He pushed the gear into park and turned to face Kieran. They had already said their good-byes at the restaurant—exchanged their hugs and good wishes for the next six weeks. Kieran had promised to be in touch, and Patti had promised not to worry.

  “Have a great time, Kieran. I can’t wait to hear all about it.” Jim smiled.

  “Me too,” Riya rang in.

  Kieran smiled back at Jim and squeezed Riya’s hand. Kieran decided that he didn’t like good-byes—even though h
e knew he wasn’t going to be away for long. It had never seemed to bother him before, but then he had never before had anyone for whom to care. He opened his door and walked around to the back of the car. He pulled open the trunk and reached for his duffel and backpack that were tucked inside. With a thud, the trunk fell back into place, and there was Patti, standing next to the car, moisture reflecting in her eyes.

  “One last hug?” She held her arms out.

  Kieran bent to place his bags on the road and then reached for Patti. She squeezed him tightly and then pulled back, keeping hold of his shoulders.

  “You’re going to be great!”

  And even though Kieran knew that Patti’s declaration was in reference to a different camp and a different experience, he grabbed hold of that faith and encouragement and drank it in. “Thank you. I needed that,” he replied.

  He stretched down for his bags and waved to Riya, who was twisted in her seat, looking at him through the rear window of the car. When the walking sign appeared on the pedestrian signal, Kieran began crossing the two-lane street. He dragged his feet across the sun-drenched asphalt, as if melting into it with every step. He turned back one last time, raising his hand toward the navy sedan still parked on the opposite side of the road. Jim tooted the horn twice, then pulled into the flow of traffic. Kieran watched as they drove away and the car’s taillights disappeared into the distance. He let his chest rise and fall with a long cleansing breath and then took the few steps to the solid glass doors engraved with the logo of Diamondbrush Industries.

  ***

  Kieran gripped the heavy steel handle and pushed the door of Diamondbrush Industries open. A blast of cold air engulfed him, instantly drying the sweat that had beaded on his forehead. With his backpack resting on his shoulders and his duffle clutched in one hand, he took a step inside, letting the door slowly close behind him. The letter had only included the address of the building, although Kieran assumed there would be some kind of sign posted to let him know the direction he should be heading. He looked to his left and then to his right, but only saw a reception desk ahead of him at the far end of the expansive lobby. A woman, who looked to be about 30 years old, sat beyond the slate countertop. She had pin straight blond hair slicked into a low ponytail at the base of her neck and was staring intently at her computer screen.

  Maybe she knows something about the camp.

  Kieran’s feet slid across the polished white marble floor, making him feel as if he was floating. He looked up as he passed under a gigantic iron chandelier that looped and curved in intricate detail. It was so mesmerizing that he almost walked directly into the desk.

  “How can I help you?” The woman asked, smiling politely at Kieran.

  Kieran dropped his duffle to the floor and leaned forward, resting his arms across the raised portion of the desk. He lowered his head to make eye contact with the woman who was wearing a silver nametag that read Abigail.

  “I was told to report here for camp. But I can’t seem to find any signs for where I should go.” He spoke in a hushed voice, even though he hadn’t seen anyone else around.

  “You can leave that right there.” She pointed her finger out to the side.

  Kieran’s eyebrows pulled together.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” A deep voice replied.

  Kieran twisted his head and came face to face with a deliveryman dressed in a medium grey uniform with red trim. The man took a few steps backward, then turned to the right. He wheeled the dolly piled with four boxes to the location Abigail had indicated, slid the boxes to the floor, and then returned to the desk to have her sign the delivery slip. It wasn’t until the man was out of earshot that Abigail addressed Kieran.

  “You must be Kieran,” she said, warmth emanating from her deep hazel eyes.

  “I am,” Kieran couldn’t hide his surprise that she knew his name.

  “We have been expecting you.” She leaned forward, perching herself on the edge of her seat. “Follow this hallway,” she motioned around the backside of the reception desk, “and take the third door on your left.”

  Kieran held his lips together and nodded, leaning to the side to peek down the hallway. “Thank you for your help.”

  “My pleasure, Kieran. Now go on, they’re waiting for you,” she shoed him away with a bright smile.

  Kieran picked up his duffle bag from the floor, repeating to himself the instructions he was just given.

  Down this hall, third door on your left.

  Once the doors appeared, he began counting with his fingers. The first door read “Restroom”.

  Thumb out.

  The next door also read “Restroom”.

  Index finger out.

  As Kieran’s feet carried him closer to the third door, the two digits he had stuck out from his fist began to tremble, as a swarm of butterflies took flight in his stomach. New beginnings were something that Kieran had unfortunately become accustomed to; however, this time was different. It was the fear of the unknown that had Kieran’s nerves in overdrive with butterflies pushing at his throat, threatening to expel his last meal. He concentrated on matching his breathing to his slowed steps—a grasp for any type of control.

  One of those visions into the future would be useful right about now.

  He reached his arm to the side, connecting it with the cement wall. With splayed fingers, his hand dragged along the smooth surface as he moved, pausing just before reaching the next doorway. He pressed his palm into the wall with a little more pressure and waited. Nothing.

  Of course, they never come when I need them.

  He stepped away from the wall and stood in front of what was supposed to be the third door. But there was nothing other than the doorframe to distinguish it as such. No handle. No knob. No metal plate to push, like on the ones he had just passed. Only the dark blue interior that matched the doors before it.

  “Maybe this isn’t supposed to be counted as a door,” Kieran contemplated, his voice a little louder than a whisper.

  He continued down the hallway. A dozen feet away, another door painted the same dark blue with a sign that read “Janitor” appeared to his left. He tried the knob and was surprised that it actually moved. With his hand twisted to the right, he pushed the door open. Still holding on, he peered in.

  His shoulders fell with a forced exhale, as he took in the various mops, brooms and buckets. He pulled the door closed and walked back to the start of the hallway. His heartbeat was reverberating through his body with every step. He looped around and began counting the doors again.

  Restroom. One.

  Restroom. Two.

  Unsure…Maybe three??

  Janitor. Definitely not three.

  “It must be that one,” Kieran mumbled to himself. As he walked back to the non-door, he could almost hear Giuseppe’s voice. “Things are not always as they seem.”

  Kieran looked around to make sure no one was watching him. The halls were as empty as they were when he had arrived. He carefully placed his right hand on the dark blue surface and spread out his fingers. Within seconds, a glowing dot appeared just below the base of his thumb and began tracing the outline of his hand, leaving a familiar thin luminous line in its wake. Kieran watched as the line rounded the tip of each of his fingers and then continued down the other side of his hand. Once again, when it reached his wrist, he felt his hand lock into place.

  He leaned into his hand, putting pressure on the door. It slowly began to open.

  There’s no turning back now.

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  SNEAK PEEK

  BAILEX: volume 2

  One

  Welcome to Akawald

  THE DOOR SWIFTLY CLOSED with a loud bang, startling Kieran. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned over, resting his hands on his thighs. He took a deep breath, but it was no use. There was nothing that was going to calm him.

  This is where I’m supposed to be. He reminded himself before he stood
upright.

  A gust of wind brushed across his face, lifting his hair from his forehead and filling his nose with the scent of lavender. He inhaled deeply, remembering that unmistakeable scent from when Patti had introduced him to the lavender oil a couple of weeks back.

  Wow, has it only been a couple of weeks? So much has happened.

  She said it would help him relax and sleep. He willed the calming properties that Patti had described to take effect. His eyes fell closed and he focused on his breathing—slowly in through his nose and then out through his mouth.

  The pounding in his chest slowed. He opened his eyes, looked around and saw that he was standing at the edge of a vast lavender meadow. Kieran walked roughly two metres until the meadow was under his feet. He reached down and pulled for a sprig of lavender. He examined the light purple flowers that were just beginning to break through the deep purple buds. He brought the sprig up toward his nose and inhaled. As he exhaled, his worries faded as though they were being swept away with the wind. He trained his gaze ahead of him; there was no turning back.

  I am one of them.

  His feet began to move as if on their own accord. It was as though he was being pulled in the only direction he was supposed to go. He followed a worn-in path, which crossed the meadow before disappearing into a line of trees. As he walked, the lavender foliage brushed against Kieran’s calves. The sun, with its rays casting a golden glow through the treetops, had already reached its peak in the sky and was on its decent to end another day.

  He checked his watch, wondering how the day had gotten away from him. The hands on his watch held still in their positions—minute hand at the three, hour hand just past the two, and second hand frozen at the six. He tapped the crystal face a few times, but his attempt to get his watch working again was unsuccessful. He picked up his pace, now unsure as to how late he would arrive at his destination.