Fallen Elements

by Heather McVea

  I have found allies in Goodman Tynan and his family. For we have already smote four wicked souls, casting them back to the fires of Hell. I have found additional allies in the court, and removed ownership and citizenship privileges from those who would provide aid or comfort to the wretches we seek.

  We will continue to take from these wretches all their earthly possessions, and drive them from our sights. The bounty of their sins will be cleansed by the righteous, and used to fulfill our family’s purpose.

  My wife will not have died in vain. My daughter will know her place, and the power she has to see these creatures for what they are will give her purpose. Most importantly, the generations of Allertons to come will forever be guided by His will, striking down wickedness from now until His kingdom comes.

  ***

  Ryan laid the diary across her lap, her socked feet propped up on the glass coffee table in her living room. She had been too keyed up to nap, still thinking through how to broach the topic of the apparently nonexistent car accident with Leah.

  Ryan had decided to settle in with the diary until Leah arrived. She glanced at her watch, it was nearly three, and Leah would be there in an hour. Ryan took a deep breath, and ran her hands through her hair.

  The last pages of the diary had jarred Ryan. It was clear to her something had happened by that river nearly four hundred years ago. How much of it was real, versus how much was skewed by superstition and no real understanding of science, she would certainly never know.

  Ryan had taken several American history courses during her undergraduate studies, and knew the witch hysteria had taken root early in the country. She seemed to remember things getting much worse once the Puritans settled the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Where her ancestors certainly didn’t want for religious fervor, the Puritans were outright zealots.

  Throughout history there always seemed to be no shortage of an us-against-them mentality. She wondered how much of her ancestors’ self-righteous, self-appointed savior complex accounted for several of her current family members’ attitudes.

  Ryan recalled her interaction with Lucy at The Richmond, and thought it made sense that her aunt would take offense at any interest Leah might show her, or might have shown Karen. Lucy had always been a snob, and with four hundred years of imagined and real history mingling, her aunt had no doubt convinced herself Leah wasn’t good enough for her sister.

  Ryan put the diary on the table, and got up to get herself a bottled water. She felt sick with the knowledge that her family had made its start, and perpetuated its fortune, on the backs and lives of people less fortunate. No doubt, her ancestors had fully indulged in whatever moral outrage was sweeping the country if it afforded them the opportunity to take what they believed to be theirs through divine providence.

  Ryan flopped back down on the sofa, which caused the diary to fall to the floor. Ryan reached to pick it up, and saw an additional entry after Isaac’s. Opening the book completely, the room spun slightly as Ryan immediately recognized her mother’s meticulous script.

  ***

  Entry of Karen Remembrance Myers

  March 10, 2015

  Dearest Ryan,

  I hardly know where to begin except to tell you I am so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I was jealous of your spirit and your strong will. I wish I could be more like you.

  I trust you have not skipped ahead, and are coming to my note at the end of Remembrance’s diary. It is important you know where you came from. In this case, I hope, so you can avoid the sins of our past. Our family’s legacy is one of blood, thievery and murder.

  I did not know the extent of the Allerton, and ultimately, the Myers family crimes until I met a woman while still in high school. I can tell you I fell in love with her. I know you must think of me as a hypocrite considering how badly I behaved when you told me you are gay, but again, my anger was born of jealousy. I wanted the strength of your convictions.

  I told Lucy about the woman. Your aunt feigned support and understanding, only to betray me by twisting my feelings and telling your grandfather the woman I loved was a whore and wretch.

  It didn’t matter in the end. The woman didn’t love me.

  Matters were further complicated as our family’s true history became known to me when Lucy confronted the woman about our relationship. To both Lucy’s horror and mine, one of the family “tells” you’ve read about manifested. Lucy began bleeding from her nose. It was then I realized the woman I loved was a witch and my family’s sworn enemy.

  I began to resent her, and how I felt about her. I was ashamed of being in love with a woman, but more than that, I was disgusted at the notion of loving a witch. The truth was I couldn’t be honest about the fact the shame came from not having my love returned. The disgust, I only later came to realize, was born of ignorance. I doubted everything about myself, even that I had ever truly loved her.

  Feeling I had no one else to turn to, I confided everything to Lucy, and I realized I too had been experiencing a tell since first meeting the woman. The warmth and comfort I felt when I was near her, or when she would touch me, were just my body reacting to what she was.

  I had lost everything. My father wouldn’t speak to me, my sister, though superficially supportive, secretly judged my choices, and the one thing I had been certain of - being in love - was in doubt. The world as I had understood it was changed forever, and through the eyes of a sixteen year old, it seemed devastating.

  I lashed out, and finding comfort in the familiarity of my family, joined Lucy in tormenting the woman I had otherwise loved and her family. Fueled by anger and resentment, I felt justified in taking up my family’s cause to end the witch’s bloodline.

  I still don’t have the courage to tell you everything. Just know that killing a witch isn’t the worst thing you can do to her. I am not proud of what I did and the people’s lives I helped to destroy. My actions were born of fear, resentment, and embarrassment.

  It has been twenty nine years and there are days I still feel like a child desperate for attention and understanding. I’m tired.

  I know taking my own life may seem like a coward’s way out, but I have been so passive in that life for so long, this is the one time I will say what happens and when it happens.

  I love you, and wish you all the happiness you deserve. Please understand.

  Mom

  ***

  A sob escaped Ryan as tears streamed down her face. She covered her mouth, her eyes unfocused as she shook her head. Ryan couldn’t reconcile the penitent tone of the letter with her mother. Karen had always been resolved and unyielding in her choices.

  This can’t be true, someone is playing a cruel joke on me! The words bounced around inside Ryan’s head as she frantically flipped through the rest of the diary looking for something that would make what she had just discovered fit into the world she understood.

  Ryan’s hand paused, trembling as it hovered over the last page in the diary. She stared, unblinking at the numbers scrawled in her mother’s meticulous hand. Her breath caught as she realized the numbers were Leah’s cell phone number.

  Chapter 15

  Ryan sat stiffly at her dining room table. After a small breakdown, she had managed to shower and get dressed. She glanced at her watch. It was four twenty, and just then there was a knock at the door.

  Feeling like her feet were encased in concrete, Ryan forced herself forward. Flipping the deadbolt, she opened the door to find a smiling Leah standing on the stoop.

  The smile was short lived when Leah looked at Ryan. “I said four-ish. Am I that late?”

  Ryan couldn’t speak, so she simply shook her head, and stepped to the side so Leah could come in. After Ryan shut the door, Leah stepped toward the despondent woman, her arms outstretched.

  “Don’t.” Ryan held her hand up, and stepped around a stunned Leah.

  “Ryan? What’s going on?” Leah spoke softly, the concern in her voice apparent.

  “You knew.”
Ryan turned to face Leah, the tears flowing unchecked.

  Leah reached for the distraught woman, but quickly thought better of the gesture as Ryan’s red, swollen eyes glared at her. “Knew what? I don’t know what you mean.”

  Ryan turned and grabbed the diary off the dining room table, thrusting it at Leah. “My mother killed herself!”

  Leah’s breath caught at the revelation, her eyes filling with tears. “God.”

  Ryan blurted out. “Are you telling me she didn’t call you, she didn’t tell you?! Your fucking phone number is in the book right after her suicide note – addressed to me!” The anger and betrayal swirled inside Ryan, driving her rage. She had no recourse with her mother, but she would dole her wrath out to Leah in kind.

  Leah opened the diary, her hands trembling as she turned the pages. “Ryan, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  Ryan shook her head, and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Bullshit! You talked to her before she died. The two of you hadn’t spoken in years. Then suddenly you hear from her, and the fact she was going to drown herself never came up?!”

  Leah crossed the room, and sat down at the dining table. Laying the diary in front of her, she continued to read through it. “I’ve never actually seen this. I’ve just been told it existed.”

  Ryan snatched the book out from in front of Leah. “I’m not talking about this damn book! I’m talking about –”

  “I know what you’re asking me, Ryan!” Leah stood up. Her defenses had finally been triggered. “And I’m telling you I didn’t know Karen was going to kill herself.”

  Ryan hesitated. Leah’s raised voice felt like a slap in the face. “But she did call you?” Ryan forced her voice low, and took several deep breaths as the rage from moments ago began to give way to her need to understand.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Leah let out a deep sigh. “Yes. And yes, it did seem odd, but we just talked.”

  Ryan sat down in the chair across from Leah. Both women were looking intently at each other. Ryan spoke first. “You’re lying.” Leah averted her eyes. Ryan craned her head down, forcing Leah to make eye contact with her. “I want to know what the two of you talked about.”

  Leah stood up, and walked toward the front door. “I think I should go.”

  Something occurred to Ryan, and she stepped in front of Leah, the two women practically colliding into one another. “Wait.” Ryan placed her hand on Leah’s shoulder. “What did you mean when you said you had never actually seen the diary?” Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Leah stepped around Ryan.

  “Jesus, why are you like this? Why all the unspoken, implied crap?” Ryan hurried around Leah, and stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her exit.

  “Ryan, let me leave.” Leah’s tone was harsh, but she was unable to make eye contact with Ryan.

  “Not until you explain.” Ryan willed her tone to something more congenial; otherwise, she knew Leah would bolt. “Can’t we be honest with each other?”

  Leah’s eyes shot up, and a look of pure anguish crossed her face. “You’re not the one that’s been lying.”

  Ryan felt a shot of elation course through her. She was hopeful this was the beginning of the truth. “Can we sit and talk?”

  Leah hesitated, but finally nodded, and the two women went into the living room. Sitting down next to Leah on the sofa, Ryan squelched the myriad of questions that were shooting through her head. She instinctively knew Leah was going to control the pace of this portion of the conversation.

  “How much of that diary have you read?” Leah sat facing Ryan, her leg tucked up under her.

  Ryan thought that was an odd question to start the conversation with. “Ah, I skipped some of the more banal entries about crop rotation and how to not drop a stitch, but otherwise, all of it.”

  Leah took a deep breath, a tremor moving through her body before she spoke. “Our families have a very long and sordid history.”

  Ryan frowned. “Our families? You mean you and my mother?”

  Leah pursed her lips. “No. I mean our families. All the way back to what you read in that diary.”

  “What are you playing at?” Ryan couldn’t fathom where Leah was going with this.

  “The Allerton and Sebille families. Your ancestors and mine. I’m a direct descendent of Abigail’s.” Leah forced the words passed her lips.

  Ryan shook her head. “Look, I don’t know what my mother told you about that diary, or what you know from your own people, or what the two of you thought was true when you were seventeen, but clearly my mother was not in her right mind.”

  Leah rubbed her face with both hands. “Ryan, it’s true. All of it.”

  Ryan felt the certainty of her world slipping away, and she was desperately clinging to it. “Karen had spent god knows how long reading through that diary, and convinced herself that what is nothing more than the writings of a very naïve twenty year old girl were true.”

  Before Leah could interrupt her, Ryan pushed on, fueled by the certainty of the material world and the science that governs it. “Evidently, the idea there are witches somehow seemed more palatable to her than the truth. My family took advantage of people for as far back as anyone can remember. That’s the most human thing there is. You don’t need magic for that level of greed and mendacity to exist.”

  Leah leaned back, resting against the arm of the sofa. “Jesus, I’m trying to finally tell the truth, and you don’t – or won’t believe me.”

  “Believe what, that there are witches? That my family has hunted and killed, or financially ruined them for generations? Oh, and I don’t want to forget – you’re a witch.” Ryan had said the words with the most sarcasm she could muster.

  “Yes.” Leah spoke with such certainty Ryan almost believed her.

  “Leah, please.” Ryan reached for the woman’s hand, and was met halfway when Leah grabbed Ryan’s. A shot of heat went up Ryan’s arm and spread through her chest.

  “It’s warm, isn’t it?” Leah whispered.

  Ryan looked down at their hands, her eyes wide. “Yes, but I told you already –”

  “I know. You told me how warm you feel when you’re around me.” Leah looked down at their hands as she chewed nervously on her lower lip. “Karen had the same reaction. Your aunt’s nose bleeds, your cousin gets something akin to an allergy attack.” Leah took a deep breath. “The child your ancestor carried – your great grandmother seven times back – she got terrible stomach cramps when she was around us.”

  Ryan swallowed hard. She felt as if she and Leah were having the conversation underwater. Everything was slowing down, the air felt stifling, and Leah seemed blurry. “Us?”

  Leah released Ryan’s hand. “Over the millennia most cultures have referred to us as witches or some variation of that, but we – I – am descended from a race of elementals.”

  Ryan was shocked when instead of fainting dead away, she had a pertinent question pop into her head. “Which element are you?”

  The corner of Leah’s mouth turned up. “Well, I’m – I guess you could say I’m water.”

  Ryan stood up, and began pacing back and forth in front of the sofa. “I can’t believe I’m actually listening to this.” She stopped and looked at Leah. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve always felt like there were things you weren’t telling me, and – I’m sorry to just come out and say this – but are you mental?”

  Leah’s face flushed, and her jaw set. “Are you asking me if I’m crazy?”

  Ryan held her hands up in front of her. “No, no, I – well, sort of.”

  Leah, exasperated, stood and began scanning the room. Spotting a half full bottled water on the end table, she picked it up.

  Ryan cocked her head to the side, a doubtful expression on her face. “What are you doing?”

  Leah placed the base of the water bottle in the palm of her hand. “Just watch.”

  Ryan turned her attenti
on to the bottle, and stared in amazement as small ice crystals began to form around its edges and the water began to expand inside the bottle until it was a solid cylinder of ice.

  “Holy shit!” Ryan reached for the bottle, but then stopped. “Can I touch it?”

  Leah smiled. “Of course. It’s no different than if you had left it in the freezer.”

  Ryan took the bottle from Leah, mesmerized by how cold and solid it was. “Ah, I think this is a little different than my freezer.” Grasping the lid, she rotated the bottle. “What else can you do?”

  Leah took the bottle back from Ryan, and wrapped her hand around it. “You know I usually only do kids’ birthday parties.”

  Ryan couldn’t help but smile. “You’re making a joke?”

  Leah shrugged. “I’m just relieved you didn’t run screaming – or worse.”

  Ryan’s brow arched. “What’s worse?”

  Leah shook her head. “Never mind. Just watch.” As quickly as the water had frozen, it thawed and was liquid again.

  Ryan gasped. “How do you do that?”

  “I have no idea.” Leah said plainly.

  “Oh, come on. You must know.” Ryan insisted as she continued to study the bottle.

  “I really don’t, and I haven’t always been able to control it.” A sadness settled over Leah.

  Ryan studied Leah for a second. She seemed distant suddenly. “What happened?”

  Leah’s eyes shot up, a startled expression on her face. “What?”

  Ryan grinned. “The look on your face – it was like you had gone a million miles away.”

  Leah sighed as she rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “Until I finished puberty, the powers were all over the place. One winter we had gone to visit family in Altona, New York.” Leah frowned. “I was ice skating with a boy I had met from town when he fell through a patch of thin ice. I – I thought it would be easy enough to heat the pond up.”