by S. E. Akers
That was all I needed to hear. Quickly, I lifted its lid. Sure enough, there rested the mystical, opalescent wonder given to me by the Talisman who had saved my rear. Memories of that astounding night began to swirl in my mind as I gently stroked the face of the heavenly bluish-white stone.
“I hope you like how I set it,” Ms. Imbsweiler said as she took the liberty of removing the ring. Gently, she slid it on the middle finger of my right hand. “Ahhh… ’Zat is a perfect fit. ‘Zee band is actually crafted from platinum. I scored it to give ‘zee finish an aged look. I added a circle of gold around ‘zee stone to accentuate the band. I ‘zink it turned out perfect. A modern design for such a young hand,” she added with a few confident taps. “I am honored ‘zat Beatrix allowed me to craft such a ‘vonderous ring ‘zat will accompany you along your path.”
“It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” I raved, absolutely in awe of her workmanship. “Honestly.” This had to be the surprise Beatrix had hinted to me.
“I am so glad,” Ms. Imbsweiler beamed. “I even had it enchanted with a special feature.”
“What’s that?”
“I ‘vant you to concentrate on hiding ‘zee stone,” Ms. Imbsweiler requested. I did just as she asked. Suddenly the gold that wrapped around the base of the oval cabochon revealed a secret dome that appeared and fluidly enveloped the moonstone. “Now you can keep it on you at all times and no one ‘vill know ‘vhat’s under ‘zere but you.” Like a child fiddling with a new toy, I ordered the golden dome to open and close several times telepathically, fascinated by the sheer mechanics of the mystical ring.
“Thank you,” I replied, still playing with the ring. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Oh, ‘zat is not necessary. I have to be heading back home, and I ‘zee ‘zat you were on your way out too.” I followed behind her with my eyes still glued to my new ring. “I meant to arrive last night, but I ran into some trouble,” Ms. Imbsweiler added gravely as she marched down the porch steps.
My head shot up as I closed the door. “Trouble?” I inquired.
“Yes. I picked up a tail. Someone must have found out ‘zat I was in possession of a moonstone,” Ms. Imbsweiler revealed as she opened the door of her Tahoe. “‘Zat stone you have is a much sought-after ‘zing. Be warned, Ms. ‘Vallace…and above all, keep it safe. Many supernaturals would chop off ‘zat little piggy of yours to capture ‘zat little beauty,” she insisted with a firm nod and then pulled off in her SUV.
I’ll keep that in mind, I noted warily while a yearning howl echoed ominously throughout the mountainside. With the possibility of some supernatural following the woman here, I hung the wreath on the rusty old nail that remained lodged in our door year-round. I adjusted it slightly, until the bow was positioned exactly where it was supposed to be. I couldn’t savor the moment because I caught the time when I glanced at my watch.
The roads are covered, it’s still snowing, and I have thirty-five minutes to get to Bea’s…on time, I complained as I plowed back to my Charger. No sooner than I’d reached to turn my ignition, a lone wolf shot out of the woods and across our yard, right in front of my car.
And without any delays, I thought mindfully as I watched the creature double back into the towering line of black trees.
An eerie vibe shadowed me as I winded down the mountain. I felt like I was being stalked. That’s what my gut said. My brain kept reassuring me that it was just paranoia. Whichever it actually was, it only fueled my desire to get my butt to Bea’s.
I arrived with only a minute to spare, sliding and spinning the entire way. As I pulled into her drive, I noticed a Helping Hands van parked on the street.
Please don’t let it be him, I prayed as I grabbed all of my things.
The short walk from the drive to the door felt like an eternity. The more I winded along the snow-covered cobblestone path, the slower I stepped, and the antsier I grew. Just as I’d landed on the stoop, the front door opened and a guy popped into my view.
“Merry Christmas, Shiloh,” Clayton Myers said cheerfully. “Can I help you with your load?”
Relieved, I replied, “I’ve got it…but thank you.” Clayton smiled and rubbed his hands together briskly. I turned and watched him trudge across the front yard, making a mess of the lawn’s immaculate carpet of fresh snow. “Merry Christmas to you, too,” I called out to him, just before I whipped around to cross the threshold, where I, along with all of my stuff, ran smack into Ty.
The bump forced me backward. I dropped my bags to catch myself, but thanks to one swift grab from Ty, everything but me landed on the snowy stoop. Fused to his chest, I kept my head down, trying not to dwell on the awkwardness of it all.
“I’m sorry about that, Shiloh,” said Ty. It was funny hearing him say my name, now with some recognition of who I was. The last time it had crossed his lips was at the hospital over six weeks ago. It sounded a lot easier on the ears when it wasn’t laden in a tone of “no freakin’ clue”.
“That’s okay,” I assured him as I summoned some courage and looked up into his clear blue eyes. I could feel myself getting lost, so I wiggled free before the redness in my cheeks gave me away.
“Let me get those.” Ty picked up all of my bags, knocked off the snow, and placed them inside. “It’s nice that you’re spending the holidays with Bea. You’ll be a big help to her,” he insisted. “I didn’t realize you two were close,” he paused reflectively and added, “Well, not until today.” His words were a blatant reminder of how little Ty knew about me. I lifted my head to give the cosmos a few chastising shakes, a little to high in fact. Now I realized exactly where I was — in the doorway and ironically, standing underneath a tormenting clump of mistletoe.
Freakin’ figures, I mumbled to myself.
“She’s like a daughter to me,” Beatrix announced, breaking the tension, as she entered the foyer. Her eyes shifted about aimlessly, but I caught a distinct sparkle in them, like they were laughing — assuredly from what I considered right now, the “twisted, white-berried weed”.
With some jokes being too warped for even a laugh, I swiftly ushered myself out from under the uncomfortable, ritual-laden holiday plant. A barely coherent, “thank you”, was all I was able to mumble. Ty was at a loss for words himself. He shifted around for a moment, seeming just as tense.
Beatrix felt around for his hand and gave it a few endearing pats. “Now, Tyler, are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay for dinner? There’s plenty of room,” Beatrix posed. “At the very least, a cup of cider?”
“Bea!” I shot her mentally, staggered by her brazen innuendo.
“Thank you, but…I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve already made plans,” Ty added uncomfortably as he glanced down at his watch. “I wish I had known…” he remarked as he hinted a look my way, “about dinner.” I lowered my head to hide my hopeful smile. He genuinely acted like he’d much rather be here, though I wasn’t quite sure if it was because of Beatrix or me? Like the sly old fox Beatrix had taught me to be, I started to read his mind nonchalantly. My eyes crinkled to a close when I realized he was on his way to Kara’s.
“Merry Christmas, Ty,” I remarked, “Don’t let us keep you from your evening,” I added with a sickening touch of sweetness.
“Yeah,” Ty replied as he glanced up at the mistletoe and then swiftly gave Bea a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Bea.”
“Good-bye, Tyler… Merry Christmas,” Beatrix called out to him. As soon as the van door slammed, she turned around. “Now see how easy that was, dear.” Beatrix pointed to the mistletoe. “You just needed to stand still a little longer and let the plant’s magic work its charm,” she sighed. “Patience would have landed you a kiss. Let that be a lesson to you,” Beatrix added with a curt nod, followed by a smack on my butt as she strutted past me, headed into the living room. I watched the van pull away from the curb, shaking my head, and gave the front door a firm slam.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I stepped int
o the living room, blown away by its elegant golden Christmas décor. My eyes trailed her over to the fireplace. Dazzling golden topazes and ivory ribbons iced a lush garland of pine greenery lying on the mantle that framed a vibrant, crackling fire.
“I was just about to hang the stockings,” Beatrix commented as she held up one of the cream-colored velvet beauties that dripped in topazes and gold beads. She waved her hand towards the corner and asked, “So what do you think of my living Christmas tree?”
My eyes panned over to the extravagant 10-foot wonder that commanded your attention like a blinding ray from the morning sun. This had to be the grandest tree I’d ever seen. Every inch of it glistened with golden topazes while ivory silk ribbons swirled fluidly through all of its branches. The lights were spellbindingly radiant, but they weren’t your run-of-the-mill store-bought bulbs. With a touch of old-world flair, flames flickered from lit white candles that illuminated each and every one of its limbs. I stroked one of the ornaments, a feathery white dove. As soon as it twitched, I ducked. It wasn’t stuffed.
“Careful, dear. It took me two whole hours to coax those little babies into their places.” With a snap of her fingers, the bird scooted back to its original spot.
“You put real birds on your tree?”
“The tree’s real. So are the gems and the lights. They go with the theme,” Beatrix affirmed with a smile. “I’m finishing up in the kitchen. Go ahead and take your bags to the guest room.” Beatrix eyed my causal attire and then glanced down at her flowing saffron hued robes, which resembled more of a sari than a traditional dress. “You can go freshen up…and get changed,” she hinted crisply.
I collected my bags and moseyed down the hall. The angelic holiday décor carried straight into the guest room. I doubted if any posh four-star hotel could match its ambience. Festive garlands had been wrapped around each of the four intricately carved posts that anchored the mahogany bed, while a majestic wreath smothered in glistening ornaments rested on the wall, centered over its headboard. I’d never seen linens so fluffy and white. Surely I’d be sleeping on the closest thing to a cloud this week. There was even a crystal dish of chocolate truffles that lay at my bedside.
Fancy.
The adjoining bathroom was equally as divine. The mirror above the pedestal sink had been outlined in the same swag of topaz and ribbon-laden pine greenery. White pillar candles of various heights burned all around the stately claw-foot tub and lent the room a soothing cast of subtle golden light. Sitting on a nearby étagère, an ample selection of aromatic soaps, oils, and bath salts were on display, waiting to be used (I suspected) for the very first time. I located a small glass and used a tiny silver spoon to scoop out a little salt. After adding some water, I removed my amethyst and dropped it into the cloudy mixture for a much-needed charge.
“Katie, are you sure you don’t want to hang around for dinner?” I asked as I stepped back into the bedroom.
“You’re kidding, right?” Katie fired back.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know. Don’t mind me. That’s my stomach talking,” Katie huffed humbly. “I’m sure though.”
“Okay,” I mumbled as I unfastened the clasp. The trinket box was conveniently lying on the bedside table. Saddened by her choice, I gently tucked her into her solitary haven and plopped down on the edge of the bed. With a sorrowful gaze, I spotted the present Katie’s parents had given me. Now would be the best time to open it, the safest time. I didn’t want to tell Beatrix about what I had done, at least not yet. If I opened it in front of her, my somber mood would undoubtedly lead to questions. One rip was all it took to force a flood of emotions to swell. My hands trembled. I was holding one of Julia Stowell’s favorite things — Katie’s antique jewelry box — the one her grandmother had passed down to her mom and so on. The richly carved walnut box, that when opened, revealed a dainty and prim ballerina that danced around to a medley of tunes from the Nutcracker Suite. She really had planned on killing herself and wanted me to have this treasured heirloom.
On a hunch, I snatched Katie out of her isolation box. “Katie, I think you might be more comfortable in here,” I said as I held her in my hand and slowly lifted the jewelry box lid. The soft mechanical strikes of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers were unmistakably evocative.
“Is that—Is that my jewelry box?” Katie cried.
“Your Mom gave it to me for Christmas,” I admitted. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“No,” Katie laughed as she sniffled through her tears. “’Cause when all this is over, you’ll be giving it straight back!”
“Of course I will. First thing. You won’t even have to ask.” I felt her spirits starting to lift. “So do you want to hang out in here?”
“What do you think?” Katie replied anxiously.
“Merry Christmas, Katie,” I said, as I placed her on the velvety rose-colored lining.
“Merry Christmas, Shi… Now get dressed and go eat,” Katie urged.
With the graceful melody floating through the air around me, I began unpacking my things. One nice thing about being at Bea’s was that I never had to worry about my hilt. After the cider-poisoning incident, she placed a round-the-clock protective ward that surrounded the perimeter. It kept all evil and ill-wishers out. For the first time in a while, I wouldn’t have to keep it under my pillow. Finally… A peaceful night of sleep, I thought as I tucked my hilt in the drawer of the bedside table. When I opened the massive armoire to hang up my clothes, I spotted an elegant two-piece black dress with a golden tag.
Merry Christmas, Shiloh
Every young lady needs a proper black dress.
Love, Beatrix
P.S.- Please take better care of this one.
I about passed out when I spied the GIVENCHY label as I took it off its silk-covered hanger. I’ll definitely keep you out of the woods, I noted as I carefully laid the pricey garment on the bed. After fifteen good minutes of freshening my hair and makeup (as well as a sweeping PTA bath), I stepped into the long fitted skirt and slipped the top portion of the sleek, black ensemble over my head. Both pieces just barely met at the middle, showing only the tiniest amount of flesh. I stared down at my bare feet and wiggled my toes. Knowing Bea thinks of everything, I opened the armoire again to check its floor. There, resting in the bottom of the standing closet was a pair of strappy, crystal-covered heels with a hint of red peeking out from their soles.
Sweeeeet.
I grabbed Beatrix’s gifts and glided the entire way down the hall. She was in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner.
“Don’t you look lovely,” Beatrix remarked as I entered the room.
I commenced with a playful, princess-like twirl. “Thank you, Bea. You really shouldn’t have gone to all this expense. I feel like I’m wearing a small car.”
“I know I went a little overboard. I’ve always wanted a daughter,” Beatrix said earnestly. “And you deserve to be treated like a real one, for a change.” I couldn’t disagree with that argument. I wouldn’t know what that even looked like if it weren’t for Chloe. “Just indulge me a little,” she pleaded.
“All right. If I have to,” I agreed. “So, was the outfit my surprise or this?” I asked as I extended my hand and flashed her my new moonstone ring.
“My, my… Now that’s truly a thing of beauty. Regina’s work never ceases to amaze me,” Beatrix acknowledged with a nod. “But this isn’t your surprise. I wasn’t even sure if she would be able to deliver it to you. When did it arrive?”
“Ms. Imbsweiler brought it by my house about an hour ago. She said she picked up a tail?” I hinted. “Do you really think someone was following her?”
Beatrix shrugged her shoulders. “Possibly. Regina is very cautious, but there are always faults to be found no matter how tight one’s security may seem. A vast number of supernarturals would give their right arm for that stone,” Beatrix warned as she removed a casserole dish from the oven.
“Yeah,” I rep
lied with a dry laugh. “That’s the word on the street.”
“You’ll get your real surprise before we sit down to eat,” Beatrix assured with a sly wink.
I placed her presents on the kitchen table. “Merry Christmas, Bea.”
“How sweet. I’ll open them after dinner.”
“And…there’s one more thing,” I remarked as I laid the lapis lazuli on top. Beatrix stopped running around the kitchen and stared longingly at the ring. “I had a hunch you might want to see it.” Beatrix gently picked it up and began stroking the royal blue stone tenderly. Her eyes fell to a close and a smile emerged immediately.
“Now why isn’t this on your finger?” Beatrix posed.
“Baby steps, Bea,” I assured her in a wary tone.
“Thank you, Shiloh,” Beatrix purred. “I can feel him, you know… The remnants of his soul.” For the first time, I smiled as I gazed upon the lapis lazuli. It was easy for me to forget it once belonged an evil bastard when I witnessed the yearning in Beatrix’s eyes. The way they danced in the light as she stared wishfully at the stone, I truly hoped one day I could feel that passionate about someone, and they in turn, the same for me.
“Do you need any help?” I asked.
“None at all, but that’s kind of you to offer,” Beatrix guaranteed as she placed the ring in the pocket of her apron. She shooed me away with a wave. “Just give me five minutes, dear.”
With nothing else to do, I stared out the window of the backdoor and watched the falling flakes of snow. Without caring about the cold, my hand automatically reached for the knob. The wintery night air whipped around my body while I was lured helplessly by something that remained on my mind — no matter where I was or whatever mood I was in.
Though the air was chilly, it didn’t bother me a bit, not right now. Shifting speckles of snow peppered the starry night sky. When I raised my eyes higher, I spotted the source of my unease hovering over me — the moon. It was merely a sliver of a crescent that cast a faint glow, but its current phase and the sharpness of its points stirred my deepest fears like a sharp sickle arching around my throat. I had a little over two weeks to find a hidden body and locate a scarce, magical stone. Christmas Eve had always been one of my favorite nights, but sadly my anticipation was working against me this year.
