Legacies

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Legacies Page 10

by Bebe Lightsmith


  For your love, there is, much to lose

  Choices to make, but which to choose?

  I lay hidden, a power too much,

  Special care to be taken upon first touch,

  Search for me in places of glee,

  Safely guarded as a sight unseen.

  She opens the door, but you control the room

  Find me, my gallant Knight, for your fate sees doom.

  “What the hell?” I was the first to speak.

  “It’s a clue,” Ivy said in a contemplative tone.

  “Who wrote it?” I asked, knowing neither one of them knew the answer. It just seemed so. . . Odd.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ryker said, taking the parchment from Ivy and tucking into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “Not like it gives us a location, we’ll just keep investigating the old fashioned way.” He then said to Ivy’s glare as she reached for the parchment back.

  “It does give us a location.” She argued. “She opens the door, but you control the room.”

  “Well as I don’t know who she is or what room it speaks of the poem makes no sense.” He snapped at her. Ivy’s eyes sparked with green magic, as wisps of emerald-colored energy began to float around her. I now knew why she kept such an opened-minded Zen approach to everything. If she lost emotional control, even just for a moment, her magic would manifest. Ryker stared at her for a long moment and then left the classroom.

  The three of us made our way to the library, all lost in our own thoughts. Were we actually going to try to find this? And if so, what are the odds? I was all about risk, but getting expelled wasn’t exactly on my five-year plan. Though my bastard father had pushed me to go here, I wanted to come. Was this too risky?

  Just go with the flow.

  Chapter Six:

  Ryker:

  One week later:

  I hate airports. Most of my childhood was spent at one, either picking up or dropping off my father, or me flying out to him. Though he wasn’t a nurturing man, I always knew he cared about my well-being. He respected my thoughts and feelings as long as they were rational and logical, and he always tried to spend as much time with me as possible. He was as good of a father as he was capable of. Then, he sided with Sterling Emrys, Owen’s father. I hadn’t spoken to him since that day, a year ago. It was easy, as he was always traveling from one place to another, and I was off at school. In the past, we had made efforts to see each other, but since I could not bear the sight of him since that day, he had made it easy.

  This was the reasoning for my shock when I walked into my family home and found him standing in the kitchen, cooking. My father had never cooked in my entire life. He wasn’t wearing his military uniform, which of all my memories, in only a handful of them he was wearing civilian clothes. Latin music played softly in the background. Usually, he was a Johnny Cash kind of guy.

  “Dad?” I asked, unsure of what alternate universe I had just walked into. He turned, his deep brown eyes wide.

  “Oh, Ryker, son, I thought your flight didn’t get in until tomorrow?” He said in his slight southern accent.

  “I took an earlier flight,” I said, dropping my bag. The group decided to go our separate ways for a few days so we could see families and sort out the information. Then we’d meet at a target location, hopefully. Owen and I were against the idea, but we did have some business to attend to here, so we didn’t complain too much.

  Then something I never thought would happen strutted into the room. A woman, pretty, her dark skin and hair showing her Latin decent, and the reason for the music. The lines around her eyes and mouth showed her age was closer to my fathers than mine, but she was still pretty in that exotic way.

  “Oh, Ryker, this is Isabella.” My father introduced.

  “Oh, he’s so handsome, just like your father.” She said with a smile and shook my hand. A small breeze could have blown me over.

  My father, in all my life, as far as I had known, had never been interested in women. I did not have a mother because he was not interested in women. He had me made in a laboratory because he was not interested in women. And yet, there was a woman in my fathers’ kitchen, with her arm wrapped around his waist, and they were staring at each other affectionately.

  “Are you hungry, mijo?” Isabella asked me. The spices smelled delicious. “I’m making fajitas.”

  “Um, that sounds good, thank you. I’m going to go put my bag away.” I said, needing a moment to process the mind copulation that just happened to me. Isabella gave me a wide, warm smile and nodded, telling me to take my time.

  By the time I had trudged up the stairs I had half convinced myself that it was all a hallucination. That dream walking, or whatever, with Ivy, had finally driven me mad. Taking out my phone, I flipped it open and speed dialed Owen.

  “Bro, you really can’t go twenty minutes without me, can you?” Owen answered. We had just separated at the airport.

  “Dude, shut up, the weirdest shit just happened,” I whispered into the phone as I stepped into my room.

  “Oh cool, what?” He sounded excited, and I felt my eyes roll.

  “My father is here,” I said.

  “Well, you couldn’t avoid each other forever,” Owen stated.

  “Yeah, but he’s here, wearing, like, dad-jeans and a button-down, cooking with his girlfriend.” I felt the panic of the unknown rise in me and grappled for control.

  “His girlfriend?” Owen gasped in shock. “Is she hot?”

  “Dude,” I said in exasperation, but then I thought about it. “Yeah, actually.”

  “Sweet, I’ll be right over.” He said and then hung up.

  Well, at least I won’t be alone with the awkwardness. Tossing my bag down, I stared at my phone. Ivy had put her number in there before we left so we could keep in contact about the project. She didn’t have my number, as she just told me to text her then fluttered off. If something were to happen, I wanted her to be able to contact me. Opening my messages, I began a new text and stared at the screen. This was dumb. I should just say something like, “This is Ryker” right? But then that won’t give her any incentive to text back. Did I want her to text back? Of course, I did, I just. . . This was all so complicated. I stayed there, glaring at the phone screen until I heard Owen’s car pull up out front. It was time. Now or never.

  This is Ryker. Did you get home safe? I stared at the words and analyzed how many ways they could be taken. It was sound and gave me the information I wanted. I hit send and then went downstairs to have, what I would predict to be, the weirdest dinner of my life.

  Sitting at the round dining room table, we stared at each other awkwardly while we loaded our plates from the serving dishes. I’ll give Isabella this; she was a damn fine cook. The hot and rich scents coming off of the meat and the fresh homemade soft tortillas was enough to make eating worth it.

  “So, how is school?” My father asked. Owen and I glanced at each other.

  “Fine.” I shrugged.

  “They both go to MBIA.” He said proudly to Isabella. She looked impressed.

  “So, uh, how’s Beth?” He asked. I knew he just wanted to talk to me, but we haven’t spoken in a year, and he still hadn’t apologized for what happened. Did he really want me to just let it go?

  “We broke up,” I replied in a short tone. I dared him to say something about my decision.

  “Well, that’s too bad, that was a good match.” He said with disappointment in his voice. “Oh well, you have many options.” He then waved off. Who was this man? Owen stared in wide-eyed shock at him too.

  “Tell me about Morgana’s girl, I hear she’s there.” He then prompted.

  “Ivy?” I asked. And then I realized what he was doing. Someone of his stature could access the records of our test twelve weeks ago, easily. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if all my files went directly to him. His eyes locked on mine and I could see it. Sure, he was wearing dad-jeans and had a girlfriend, but he was still the general.


  “She’s perfect,” Owen said. It shocked me to hear his voice, as for a moment I forgot he was there. Father’s eyes swiveled over to Owen.

  “What does that mean?” He asked.

  “We get along, she’s turned out to be a good friend and a powerful witch.” I shrugged it off like his questioning wasn’t a big deal. For some reason, I did not want to tell him anything about Ivy. Nothing. I didn’t believe in the powers of the universe like Owen, and the other wizards did, but I trusted my gut. Then, my eyes shifted to Isabel, who sat there quietly eating her food and listening.

  “Who did you say you were, again?” I asked her. My father glared at me.

  “I told you mijo, I’m Isabella, your father’s girlfriend.” She replied with a broad smile.

  “What legacy are you?” I asked. She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “That’s enough!” My father’s voice boomed. “Ryker, tell me about Ivy.” He demanded again. Why was he so interested? Sure, she was the only granddaughter of Morgana, but this wasn’t him.

  “Ryker.” Whispered Owen. I knew what he was trying to say.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked, trying to keep him calm. If what I thought was happening was actually happening, if I wasn’t careful I could permanently damage his psyche.

  “What is this dream business?” He demanded.

  “Well, father, you read the report,” I replied, not wanting to say anything in front of Isabel. “Besides, it’s classified.” I gave him a long look.

  “Isabel can know, she won’t say anything.” He argued. My father, the general, was giving classified information to this person? This was worse than I thought.

  “Tell me how you get to her dimension.” He ordered. “Why do you go there every night?” And on with the questions.

  Too much was being said. He was spilling too much information with just his questions. My heart began to race as my mind showed me the infinite consequences of this knowledge getting into the wrong hands. I needed to shut him up before the information could hurt Ivy. Grabbing my fork, I stabbed it through Isabel’s hand, sticking the prongs into the table. She screamed an earsplitting sound, trying desperately to free her hand.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” My father came storming towards me. He would forgive me later. Picking up the cast iron full of meat from the table, I slammed it into the side of his head. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. He was a knight, it would take more than that to kill him, and any less wouldn’t have knocked him out.

  “Whoa, dude, I miss these family dinners.” Owen grinned and then stuffed a huge bite in his mouth. Isabel sat stunned, still pinned to the table by the fork, a panicked animal expression taking over her face as she glanced between the unconscious general and us.

  “We have to tie her up and stop her power over him,” I said, freeing Isabel and sitting her in a chair. She tried to resist, but Owen and I easily restrained her while Owen tied her up with a bit of climbing rope from the garage. We then heaved my gigantic father onto the couch and tried to position him comfortably. He would have a hell of a headache when he awoke.

  “What is she?” I asked Owen. He was better at sensing the different type of creatures than me since as a warlock, he was more in tune with the energies around him. Owen stared at me for a long moment, his eyes growing darker as his emotions whirled around inside of him. I could tell he was trying to make a decision but didn’t like any of the options.

  “I don’t know.” He finally said. “But I know someone who is much more equipped to handle this.” Releasing a deep breath, his shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated. That was when I realized who he was talking about.

  “I’ll call him.” I offered. Owen nodded.

  “You can leave if you want.” I pointed out. I wasn’t going to make Owen face his worst enemy.

  “I’m with you, bro,” Owen said after a moment. Over all the years we had been friends he never had once deserted me, never. Not when we were surrounded by a group of bully trolls in grade school and got our asses kicked, not when my father started to drink too much during our preteen years and was prone to fits of rage, and especially not when the situation was dire, like this one. He was the best friend I could have asked for, and I knew I didn’t deserve him.

  “Alright, I’ll make the call,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

  To make it easier for Owen, I went into the privacy of my father's study. For the first time in memory, I wished Ivy were here. It was odd because we had only known her for a hand full of months, not even half a year, but I wondered how she would handle the situation. During our many simulation tests that the academy forced us through, she was always the calm voice of reason, the emotional support person, and the one who kept us going. Without her around now it felt like we were missing an integral part of the system, like a bike without a chain.

  Taking out my phone I noticed that she had not texted me back. The knot of disappointment tightened in my chest. I wished she didn’t affect me like this. Looking through my contacts, I found the listing for Sterling Emrys. Pushing the call button, I set the phone to my ear.

  “Ryker? Is everything alright, son?” He answered immediately. Though Owen and I were livid with him, hated him, there was a certain comfort of knowing that he would always be there when we needed him.

  “There’s something wrong with my dad.” I started.

  “I’ll be right over.” He said and then hung up. For my entire life, Owen and I had lived directly across the street from each other in an upper-class neighborhood in Arlington, Virginia.

  Walking out of the study, I had just enough time to warn Owen about his fathers’ arrival before the front door opened.

  “Ryker, are you alright?” He called. We summoned him to the back of the house, where the kitchen and dining rooms were. Sterling Emrys was a tall man with a medium but muscular build. He had white skin that never tanned, black hair that he always kept buzzed short, and of course, those piercing blue Emrys eyes. Constance, Owen’s mother, had been of North African descent, which explained Owen’s much darker skin tone than his fathers. This was the first time we had seen him in a year, since that terrible day. It was actually around this time of year, ruining the holiday season forever.

  “What happened?” He demanded taking in the scene. “Who is that?” He pointed at Isabella.

  “You don’t know?” I gasped. They knew everything about each other, much like the relationship that Owen and I shared.

  “No, Whitney disappeared last week, said he needed some R&R. I agreed with him, so I didn’t think anything of it.” Sterling replied.

  “Well, he brought something back with him,” I said pointing to Isabel.

  “What gave you the indication?” He asked, suddenly all-business, like this was any other Mythos crime scene.

  “Well, the fact that he had a woman was a big tip-off.” I started, giving him a long look. My father wasn’t heterosexual nor was he homosexual. Instead, he was asexual. He had no sexual interest in anyone.

  “Then he started asking the questions,” Owen said quietly. Sterling didn’t even glance at him.

  “What questions?” Sterling asked me. I gave Owen a long look; he turned his head away.

  “He kept asking about our newest member of the team, but not in a way that was just genuine curiosity. It was like he was digging for a certain answer.” I explained, “He even admitted to telling her classified information.” Sterling’s eyes widened as he was starting to grasp the severity of the situation.

  “Alright.” Sterling moved around the dining room until he reached the chair Isabella was tied up on. Taking off his leather glove, he cupped her face with his hand, closing his eyes. Owen was typing furiously on his phone.

  “She’s a troll,” Sterling said after a moment, taking his hand away. Her head sunk limply in defeat as he turned around.

  “A troll doesn’t have that type of power,” I argued.

  Sterling ignored me and walked into the
den, where my father lay on the couch. He started rummaging through his clothes and pockets. After a moment, he found a pendant hanging on a chain around his neck. The general wore exactly no jewelry. Sterling removed the necklace and wrapped it in a handkerchief from his pocket.

  “What is it?” I asked. Sterling held out the pendant in front of me. I didn’t recognize the symbol; gold twisted into a circle, with a runic symbol inside. Sticking out of the top and sides were two swords.

  “Do you know this?” I asked him. He shook his head.

  “It’s infused with magic, I can feel it. That is probably the device she used to keep control of him.” He explained.

  “Did you have physical contact with her?” Sterling asked after a moment.

  “I shook her hand,” I muttered, feeling stupid. I should have known right away.

  “Alright, I’ll call in the cleanup crew.” Sterling nodded and then took out his black flip-phone. As he talked to the government officials, I backed away to stand near Owen.

  “Ivy wants to know if she should come,” Owen said after a minute. Over the weeks Ivy had worked with her powers in the mirror. Like some of the Disney witches, she could summon surveillance in the looking-glass, past or present. She could also walk through the mirror, transporting to any other one in the world, theoretically. She had only practiced on campus, though.

  “So her plane did land safely,” I muttered. Owen gave me a confused look.

  “Tell her we got this unless you want her here.” I then said.

  A loud groan brought my attention to my father. He touched his head, his eyes squinting as he tried to open them. After grumbling a few expletives, he started to sit up. I went to him, helping him into the sitting position.

  “Damn son, did you have to hit me so hard?” He gave me a weak smile.

  “I had to knock you out,” I replied, trying to mirror his smile with my own. He looked around for a moment, his eyes landing on Isabel who was still tied to the chair.

  “Do you remember anything?” I asked when he said nothing. He nodded his head.

 

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