by HR Mason
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. The best view of the ocean is right outside.”
Runa glanced in the opposite direction, toward the music room. Another large fireplace towered above a grand piano. A gigantic stained glass window decorated the far wall, and she drew closer to inspect its design as she absently traced her fingertips across the fabric of a plush velvet sofa.
Upon examination, Runa inhaled sharply. The colorful window depicted a blonde woman standing on the shore next to the crashing waves of the ocean. Peering intently at the glass, she realized the woman looked eerily like her.
“Who is the woman in the stained glass window, Chase?”
“I honestly have no idea,” he replied nonchalantly, appearing not to notice the resemblance.
Runa inspected the window, finding it difficult to look away. As she tried to make sense of the uncanny similarities between herself and the woman, she felt a light touch upon her shoulder. Expecting to find Chase standing there, she was surprised to find him across the room sprawled over a velvet settee. He wasn’t near enough to have touched her, yet they were the only ones in the room.
“Du er i fare,” a woman’s voice whispered in her ear.
They were the same words she’d heard before, but she still couldn’t decipher their meaning. The sudden chiming of a grandfather clock caused Runa to nearly jump out of her skin.
“Feeling a little spooked?” Chase asked with a grin as he rose and came to stand next to her.
“Maybe a bit,” she admitted sheepishly.
“The house has that effect on people.”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s gorgeous. It’s just a lot to take in.”
“You have nothing to fear here,” Chase said, moving closer.
Runa turned to face him, her heart beating rapidly inside her chest. He took another step toward her, and she noticed the heat emanating from his body. Tilting her head up, she looked into his eyes, feeling a little dizzy. In one swift movement, he dipped his head toward hers. Their lips touched, and a jolt of electricity arced into her, the intensity of the kiss suddenly magnified.
The feel of his lips on hers was excitingly new, yet somehow familiar. It was as if she had always known him, as if some part of her had experienced this moment before. She knew it wasn’t possible, and yet she couldn’t deny the feeling.
“Wow…,” she breathed when the kiss ended and they pulled apart.
“My sentiments exactly,” Chase whispered, a knowing smile turning up the corners of the lips she’d just kissed.
“So… the window…,” she said, breaking eye contact. She cleared her throat and tried to regain her sense of balance.
“Yes?”
“Well… don’t you see it?”
“See what?”
“Forget it,” she said with a wave of her hand.
If Chase didn’t see the resemblance between her and the woman in the window, perhaps it wasn’t actually there.
“What were you going to say, Runa?” he persisted.
“Well, this may sound odd, but I thought I recognized the woman in the design of the stained glass window,” she began.
“That wouldn’t be possible. I’m not sure if the artist based the design on a real woman or not, but even if he had, she wouldn’t be alive. Those windows were crafted in the late 1800s.”
Chase patted Runa on the arm and chuckled. She suddenly felt silly and naïve.
“I suppose you’re right It’s just that….”
“Yes?”
“The house feels… I don’t know… familiar and… almost… alive.”
“I assure you, Everwine Manor is nothing more than wood and glass.” Chase grinned.
“It feels like more than that,” she mumbled to herself.
Runa wasn’t sure how to voice her feelings, but something about the atmosphere made her uneasy. It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in, like something was pursuing her and she needed to flee. Her stomach clenched with anxiety.
“Are you all right, Runa? You look pale.”
“I’m not feeling well. I think I need to leave,” she offered weakly.
“If you’re ill, you have no business driving home alone. The roads out here are treacherous. Let me drive you, and I’ll have my chauffeur pick me up at your house and bring me back.”
“Chase, that’s not necessary,” she protested.
“Please. It’s dark, and you don’t look well. It’s the least I can do after convincing you to come here,” he insisted.
Not feeling up to an argument, Runa reluctantly agreed. Taking one last glance at the stained glass window, she allowed Chase to lead her to her car.
Eight
Vardø, Norway, December 1793
“Astrid, please come and help me prepare the lefse,” Frida called.
“Coming, Mother,” Astrid answered.
“Don’t take all day. Your father will want his dinner soon,” Frida scolded.
“Here I am.”
Ten-year-old Astrid scrubbed her hands and joined her mother at the table. She started peeling potatoes while Frida prepared the flour. Mother and daughter worked side by side, both lost in silent contemplation.
As she worked, Astrid daydreamed. Cooking was a tedious chore, and the girl would prefer to do nearly anything else.
“I wish these potatoes would peel themselves,” Astrid said as she dropped the knife and turned to her mother.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Frida chuckled.
“I hate peeling them. It’s such a waste of time. There must be an easier way.” Astrid sighed.
“Less talk, more work, girl,” her mother chided.
Turning back to the table, Astrid’s eyes widened when she saw the potatoes lying on the table, fully peeled, skins stacked in a large pile. The girl’s body tingled, and waves of electricity rippled down her spine. Mouth agape, she tried to ascertain how such a thing could have happened.
She raised her hands for inspection and noticed snaps of blue firing from her fingertips. Shoving them beneath her apron, she willed the sensation to go away. After several seconds, it did. Grabbing the knife, she pretended to peel so her mother wouldn’t notice the job was already completed.
The self-peeling potato incident was one in a long line of strange events that had been happening to her. It seemed Astrid had somehow gained the uncanny ability to manifest her wishes into reality. Last week she’d said it would be nice if the cow could milk itself, and no sooner had the words been spoken than the milk bucket was filled. Astrid wasn’t sure if she or the cow had been more shocked.
She hadn’t breathed a word of it to anyone, especially not her mother. Frida had no patience for things that weren’t practical. Her mother was a no-nonsense woman, and Astrid knew better than to share the mysterious and curious information. Besides, what would she say? There was no logical explanation for any of it.
“Would you look at that? You’re quite fast at peeling potatoes, my girl.” Frida raised one eyebrow as she observed how quickly Astrid had completed the chore.
“Well, you make me do it so often that I’ve become good at it,” Astrid lied. “May I be excused since I’m finished?”
“I suppose so. Please carry that box of fabric up to the attic first, and then you may have some free time.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Astrid grabbed the small box and quickly made her way toward the stairs before her mother could change her mind. Taking the steps two at a time, the girl flopped onto the attic floor. She was glad to have a little space to think about the strange occurrences. Frida always said there was a rational explanation for everything, but she knew there was more to it. Some sort of magic was coursing through her body. She could feel it.
She shoved the small box into the corner and was just about to leave when another box caught her eye. Lifting the wooden lid, Astrid gasped. Tucked inside was a small leather-bound book with an Ansuz rune symbol carved into its cover. Tentatively tracing her hands across th
e book, she felt a vibration of energy pulse against her skin.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she removed the book from the box. Opening it, she flipped through the pages. Each had different handwriting, and as Astrid read, she began to piece together the information. It seemed to be a book of family history, each scribe relaying her generation’s tale.
The women in the stories had power—some could read minds, some controlled water and other elements, some were able to move objects with a thought, and others could even heal sickness. According to the book, the most special was the “generation of two,” who possessed all of the gifts but would sacrifice something in return. Astrid didn’t know what any of it meant, but she was intrigued.
She flipped to the front of the book. In curling script was the title, Daughters of the Sea. Astrid’s pulse quickened as she began to scour the pages. It seemed the women had been revered as healers in the community. For many generations they had been proud of their powers, writing story after story of the ways they used their special skills.
As Astrid continued reading, she noticed things began to change. In the 1620s, a woman named Else was put to death for witchcraft, and her daughter, Helga, fled Vardø. Several generations later, her descendant returned to the village, but instead of pride for her gift, there was nothing but fear. That woman, Ella, decided it was best to hide her powers.
Astrid marveled at the treasure she’d found as she read aloud.
“1683, Vardø, Norway: This book carries the stories of generations of women in my family, some who have died because of the powers they were given. These gifts have become curses, and we must deny them if we are to stay safe. I will not write down my story. Instead, I will hide the book and give my daughter an ordinary life. That is the best I can do for her.”
That was the last paragraph written in the book. Nothing followed but a list of names and dates.
Ella, 1663
Maja, 1683
Thea, 1704
Leah, 1727
Amalie, 1748
Frida, 1767
Astrid, 1783
Seeing her own name, as well as her mother’s, on the list, Astrid began to connect the dots. These weren’t random women—they were her ancestors. The book had remained a secret for over a hundred years. Although it had been passed down through the women, none after Ella had written their stories. Instead, they simply recorded their names.
As she cradled the book to her chest, something began to stir inside her. It was a slow burning sensation, creeping down her spine and radiating to her fingertips. In that moment, she understood. The things that were happening to her weren’t strange at all. They were part of her birthright.
While the magic prickles tingled throughout her body, Astrid made a conscious choice in her young mind. She would be the keeper of the stories. She would write everything down so each woman who came after would know. She would be proud of her power and instill that pride in her own children someday. No longer would their powers remain hidden in the dark. Astrid would bring their gifts into the light.
Nine
“Runa, should I bring these shirts up front?” Emily surfaced from the back room. “It’s the new shipment you’ve been waiting for.”
“Yes, please. We’ll use a couple in the window display and hang the rest over there.” Runa pointed at a rack across the room.
“I’m on it,” Emily replied.
“Thanks, Em.”
Runa finished wiping down the jewelry case while Emily tackled the window display. She couldn’t believe how helpful the girl was, a great worker, always ready to jump in and learn something new. She was the breath of fresh air that Runa needed.
“I’ve been waiting all afternoon to ask you, but I can’t hold it in any longer. Tell me about your date. Was Everwine Manor beautiful? Did Chase look handsome?” Emily gushed as she adjusted a shirt on the mannequin in the window.
“It was… an experience.”
“What does that mean? You’re going to need to elaborate, Runa.”
Wrinkling her nose, Runa tried to think of a way to explain the evening to Emily. She’d barely slept the night before, playing it all over in her mind. The entire event had been unsettling. From her blackout experience on the way to the party, to the Everwines’ strange reaction upon meeting her, and the eerie feeling when she stepped inside the house, nothing about it had been comfortable.
What was most disturbing, however, was the uncanny resemblance between herself and the woman in the stained glass windows of the mansion, not to mention the hand on her shoulder and the whisper of the strange phrase in her ear.
“I don’t know exactly what to say, Emily. It was nothing like I expected,” Runa began.
“In a good way?”
“Not really,” Runa hedged. “The house was lovely, though, and Chase was wonderful.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t feeling very well, so he drove me home. He said he would call.” She shrugged.
She didn’t tell the girl that Chase had kissed her, or that the electricity she’d felt when his lips touched hers was magnificent. The connection between them was immediate and intense, and she still felt a bit light-headed when she thought of it. He’d been a perfect gentleman but had made it abundantly clear that he wanted to see her again. Her pulse quickened and her lips tingled as she remembered the kiss. If she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t stopped thinking about Chase since that moment.
“What kind of man is Chase, Emily? I mean, clearly he’s rich and handsome, but is he more than that?”
Discussing her personal life with her young employee was probably not the best choice, but Runa had no friends in Departure Cove. She needed someone to confide in, and Emily was there.
“You mean is he more than just a pretty face?” Emily giggled.
“Yes, something like that.”
“Chase Everwine is rich, but he’s also generous. He donates a ton of money every year to charities for women and children.”
“Really? That’s great.”
“The children’s wing of the hospital is named after him because he donated all of the money for it,” Emily continued.
“Oh wow.”
“And he volunteers as a mentor at the high school,” she added.
“He does?”
“Yep, he does career coaching.”
“He sounds like a really great guy,” Runa replied thoughtfully.
“Chase is wealthy, gorgeous, kind, and generous.”
“It seems like he is.”
“I would definitely stay away from him if I were you,” Emily said sarcastically.
“You’re making fun of me?” Runa inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe a little bit. I don’t think you should be so skeptical of him.”
“I guess I’m a bit wary because I’ve had some bad experiences with men,” Runa admitted with a shrug.
“You’re so nice. Guys probably take advantage of that.” Emily peered intently at Runa.
“I’m far too trusting, but it’s something I’ve been working on. I always see the best in people, even when it’s not there. It’s gotten me in more than a few jams. Chase seems like the real deal, though.”
“He’s definitely one of the good guys. You don’t have to worry about him. Does that mean you’re going to go out with him again if he asks?” Emily raised one eyebrow in curiosity.
“Maybe. I guess we’ll have to see if he asks, won’t we?” Runa joked.
“Uh-oh. Don’t look now, but Chase’s mother is walking down the sidewalk,” Emily said with a quick glance out the window. “Looks like she’s headed this way, and she doesn’t seem very happy.”
“Great.”
Runa gritted her teeth. The last thing she wanted was to deal with Camille Everwine. After her frigid reception the night before, she would prefer to never see the woman again.
“She’s coming inside, Runa,” Emily warned, her eyes
wide with worry.
Before they could say another word, Camille shoved open the glass door, the bell jingling noisily. The click-clack of her high heels on the wooden floor echoed ominously throughout the room as she stomped toward Runa. The scent of the woman’s rose petal perfume was cloying, causing Runa’s insides to twist violently. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the worst.
“Mrs. Everwine—”
“Let’s skip the niceties, shall we? I’m sure you’re smart enough to know I’m not here on a social visit,” Camille sneered.
“I don’t know—”
“Save it. All you need to do is listen to me. I’m here to tell you that if you don’t stay away from my son, I will personally make your life a living hell. I don’t know who you think you are, but a woman like you has no business with a man like my son,” Camille spat.
“Mrs. Everwine—”
“A person of your breeding isn’t fit to be a servant in my home, let alone date my son.”
“You don’t even know me,” Runa replied defensively, offended by the woman’s judgment.
“Asta Brandon is your mother. That’s all I need to know. She was a gold digger. Apparently the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Camille raised her chin haughtily, looking at Runa as if she were a speck of dirt on her designer shoes.
“You can say what you like about me, Mrs. Everwine, but you will not come into my place of business and talk about my mother.” Runa, who hated confrontations, felt her blood pressure rise.
“You’re so pathetic. Do you have any idea how much my son loved his wife? No one, especially not you, could hold a candle to her. She was cultured, raised in an exemplary family. She was all the things you’ll never be. You cannot live up to her memory, and you’d do well to remember it. Stay away from my son.”
With that, Camille Everwine turned on her heel and stormed out of the boutique, leaving a startled Runa and Emily in her wake.
“Are you okay, Runa?” Emily ran across the room and hugged her boss tightly.
“I… I don’t know what her problem is….”
