Ice

by M.S Watson

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.’

  Arthur Ashe

  Lainie didn’t return my call and I didn’t see her until the following day. After I retrieved my car I let myself in after school, kicking my shoes off at the back door before I climbed the stairs. The Davies had got in touch with me before school, asking me to visit their home that afternoon. My plan was to receive answers and leave, but if I couldn’t drag Lainie along with me, I determined that I wouldn’t go. I sighed and cleaned myself up in my room before descending the stairs, listening to the roar of Starden’s car as it puttered to a stop in the driveway. Lainie’s voice rang out as she waved him goodbye and I waited by the door with arms crossed as she opened the door and entered the threshold.

  She stopped in her tracks, obviously unnerved to find me standing in the doorway. It didn’t take long for her to resume though, and she stalked past with a stormy expression. Her feet thundered up the stairs, threatening to snap the dainty heels that she wore. Following behind her, I kept my arms at the ready in case she started to fall backward. She finally reached the top and entered her room, slamming the door in my face.

  ‘You can’t ignore me forever!’ I yelled, bashing a clenched fist against the door. ‘Why did you ignore my call? Why didn’t you reply?’ I continued thrusting questions at the door, my fist conducting a rhythm as she tried to tire me out. She knew that I wouldn’t give up. Eventually she gave in and swung the door open. Her face was masked in fury, cutting deep wrinkles into her forehead and around her eyes. She looked older, and nowhere near as beautiful as she usually did. I made an internal note to smile more. Frowning was ugly.

  ‘I don’t want to speak to you!’ she shouted in my face. ‘Go away!’

  Her hand grasped the door, ready to slam it again but I reached out and caught it mid-swing. She glared, trying to shake it from my hand but without success. Shrieking, her voice carried through the room and down the hall, and in a single moment I found that I was unable to stop myself from relinquishing my grip on the door. Cool air assaulted my face as the entrance shut before me and my legs worked unwillingly to drag myself back into my room. I frowned, my muscles almost snapping as I tried to stop them from moving. It was as though I were powerless against my sister’s wish for me to leave.

  Desperate, I shut my eyes as my hands reached for my bedroom door and my muscles jerked in a tight spasm as I called on the time freeze that I had come to realise was a special ability of mine. I had been practicing the previous night, only managing to stretch the freeze for a few moments before time snapped back. I was afraid that if I played around with it too much, repercussions would occur. Nonetheless, much as I tried, I simply was unable to go beyond a few seconds before my energy depleted and the rubber band that was time snapped back into place. Right now, it took all my energy and concentration to cease time, but when I did I found that I was able to move freely.

  With time paused for a few precious moments, I seized the opportunity to open the door to my sister’s room and slip inside. She was frozen, like ice, as she appeared to have been moving toward the curtains over her French doors. Our rooms were identical, only flipped like our personalities. While mine was a series of pastels, bare walls and bright light, her room was overbearingly golden in colour and sported numerous posters of her favourite celebrities. Amongst them all was a framed image of Ryker, stolen from his online profile and enlarged to fit as a shrine-like image surrounded by the lesser ‘Gods’ of her life. My head pulsed with an impending migraine just looking at him.

  When I took my final few steps in front of my sister, time finally returned with a whiplash effect. My body shuddered from the transition, but my eyes were firmly focused on my sister’s face as she screamed and jumped back. Her body shook in fright and her eyes appeared to almost bulge completely out of their sockets. I stifled a laugh behind my hand and took a step toward her.

  ‘I want to know,’ I told her. ‘I want to know why you won’t talk to me.’

  ‘Ha!’ she replied. ‘That’s really quite simple. I am avoiding you because you scare me Iris! How am I meant to cope with all this, huh?’ She lifted her shoulders in a desperate shrug, but I was over her desperate act. My fists clenched and I gritted my teeth, barely keeping my temper under control. She met my glare fiercely, her nostrils flaring. In an instant her desperation faded into anger, and she stalked over me. She towered over my body, her heels giving her plenty of extra height. I wasn’t afraid of her though. I probably ought to have been, but my fury was taking over and I shoved a long fingernail into her spiky collarbone.

  ‘Don’t you think that I know how it feels?’ I demanded, forcing her to step back. ‘Don’t you think I understand how scary it is? I haven’t known for long either, Lainie. I only found out the day before you, on our birthday! Lovely birthday present, isn’t it?’ Her eyes were wide, her back against the wall by the time I stopped thrashing questions at her. Her shoulders were back, head pulled in like a scared turtle. I blinked, backing away as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the caller I.D. It was the Davies. I swore under my breath as Lainie watched on. She barely seemed to breathe, too scared to do so in my presence. My shoulders dropped as I placed my phone in my pocket.

  With my resignation, she finally began to return to normal. She dropped her own shoulders and she moved past me to her bed. She lay back onto the mattress, pressing into the softness of the pillows which always proved a little too firm for me. Her feet crossed over in front of her, kicking off her heels in a show of unladylike fashion that she would never let anyone but me see. I always was privileged to see my sister’s workings, but they were usually negative and something I could do without. My phone chimed in my hand again and a text message showed on the screen. Reluctantly, I opened it and scrolled down to read.

  We’re waiting for you. Travel safe.

  Pearl.

  It was the old Davies woman from the phone call this morning. I sighed and looked at my sister, pulling out my keys in a peace gesture. It was my equivalent to an olive branch, but it caught her attention in no time. She was on her feet in an instant, gravitating toward the shiny metal. I pulled it away at the last minute, just as her thin fingers reached out to snatch it. When she appeared disappointed, I tsked my finger at her.

  ‘I will make a deal with you,’ I announced, gritting my teeth when I paused. My car was my baby. I never let anyone drive her, let alone the road maniac that was my sister. ‘I will allow you behind the wheel twice but only if you come with me to the Davies’ house.’ She frowned, obviously confused. She opened her mouth to speak but I tsked her again and she fell silent. Her lips pursed with the decision weighing heavily on her shoulders. She loved the feel of my car in her hands, which was exactly why she never got behind the wheel. She sped too fast, and slammed on the brakes at every turn. I blamed Starden for teaching her bad habits but I had to admit that the temptation to drive crazily was a sensation that I could barely stop myself from giving in to.

  She looked at me, weighing up her options. Eventually she nodded, giving into the temptation. She knew there were strings attached but obviously being behind the wheel outweighed whatever consequences she knew would come of this. I took a deep breath and finally released the key, watching as it fell from my grasp and was snatched up in her greedy fingers. She clutched her hand to her chest, her fingers wrapped tightly around the metal. Without a second thought, she crossed the room and I had to run to catch up to her. Our feet thundered down the stairs and a moment later she was strapped into her favourite sandals and wandering out the back door. I could barely keep up with her fast pace.

  The Davies lived on a property surrounded by trees closer inland but still within a short walk of the ocean. I had been there a couple of times during my childhood with Chris and Nevada but despite not having been there in years, word had it that the property never changed. The flowers were always in bloom, even during winter when the snow fell. It wa
s falling heavier every year, but it only proved to bring the flowers even brighter each spring. It was weird and unnatural, and was the reason why we decided not to visit any longer. Even now, knowing that we would be going there, I felt weird. There was something about them that wasn’t … normal.

  Lainie didn’t care though. She reversed onto the street, the wheels squealing against the road as she floored it. I was thrust back in my seat, gripping the door until my knuckles turned white in fear of what she would do to my car. Usually it would have taken nearly ten minutes, but the time flew in sync with the blur of traffic and scenery. Numerous times I told her to slow down, and for a while she did, before she started flooring it again to make up for lost time. I breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled into the Davies’ driveway, puttering along the holey dirt road.

  We were met with an ancient-looking homestead, surrounded by trees and bushes, and garden beds laden with rainbows of colour. A series of varied wind chimes hung along the front porch, a large wooden swing set beside the wall. The homestead was well kept, washed often enough to practically shine in all seasons. The window sills had barely a speck of dust on them, and never a smear was to be found on the glass. The dirt road was lined with a row of trees that varied in shades of ruby red to sunflower yellow despite only being the beginning of summer, the leaves drifting down to meet us as we drove under them. Lainie pulled us to a stop by the steps leading to the porch. A small pond trickled with water from a fountain and was surrounded by the dirt road, indicating their wealth.

  Pearl Davies sat on the porch swing as she waited for us. Lainie and I met her at the top of the stairs, offering her some smiles but still wary of her. She had barely seemed to age my entire life, her hair still deep brown with only a few white streaks to tell of her age. Her skin was remarkable, barely marred by wrinkles even though she was probably well into her seventies or eighties. No one ever knew for sure because she always looked far too young for her biological age. Even now, as she met us, she barely looked older than fifty. I crossed my fingers and hoped that I looked as good as she did when I aged.

  She smiled as she greeted Lainie and me, pulling us into a quick hug. She was a plump woman, her cheeks round but not overweight. Her eyes were bright blue, like Xanthias’ and her skin resembled his pale complexion. I wondered if she spent any time in the sun, or if it was the reason behind their youthful appearances. She seemed to realise my reluctance to move closer and she took a step back. Her smile only remained as genuine as before, untainted by my reaction.

  ‘Welcome girls,’ she said, her voice heavily tainted with a Romanian accent. She stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter. ‘Please, come in. We’ve been waiting for you.’ Lainie almost tripped over herself in her haste. She loved the Davies’ homestead almost as much as she loved Ryker. I wavered for a moment and Pearl took that as a sign to enter first, her long hair swaying as she followed my sister. Inside, it was surprisingly bright and I discovered that despite the word around town, this place had changed. The walls were no longer dark violet, but an ice white and the windows had been enlarged. The floors were no longer adorned in thick, shaggy carpet but floor boards that shone almost white with their pallor.

  A wall had been knocked down in the kitchen to create an open-plan living area for their family, and as I stepped inside I found that the lounge was connected as well. The old lounges were replaced with bright red couches that were plush and sunk down when my sister sat back in one. I did a quick scan, finding the three Davies girls from my school surrounding a shiny white counter top. They sat on black stools, while Xanthias and a woman younger than Pearl were out on the back porch, arguing amongst themselves. I swallowed and sat beside my sister, hoping that they weren’t talking about me. When Pearl sat across from us on another couch, I noticed another old woman sitting beside her with a cup of tea, sipping at it delicately as the steam poured off it.

  ‘Welcome to our home,’ Pearl announced, spreading her arms wide. ‘I’m sure that you remember it from your childhood. How are your parents? It’s been a while.’

  She smiled as she sat back with her own cup of tea and waited expectantly. I cleared my throat and kept my eyes from glancing outside as I heard Xanthias and the woman enter. I heard them as they sat out of my range of view.

  ‘They’re going okay,’ Lainie answered for me, noticing my reluctance. ‘Dad’s going fine with his job. He’s actually been Head of Police for the past couple of years now. He got a pay rise and everything. He was finally able to pay off the last of the mortgage and we even were able to get a new car.’

  Pearl seemed disinterested in our newfound wealth but nodded anyway. ‘That’s excellent news,’ she commented. ‘I trust that school is going well?’

  Lainie jumped to answer, but everyone else in the room knew that it was small talk before we entered into the more tenuous information. I rubbed my hands together, digging my nails into the skin between my thumb nails and the first joints. It was a calming method for me that started when I was younger. Nevada told me to stop or my fingers would drop off. They hadn’t yet, and if I stopped one day they would heal. At least they didn’t cut deep and bleed like they had when I was still in primary school.

  After finally breaking the ice with Lainie, Pearl steered away from her and addressed me directly. I kept my gaze on her as she spoke. ‘Iris, you may be wondering why I invited you here this afternoon, and I’m sure that it’s nothing that you’re thinking,’ she added, her gaze cutting to Xanthias. My anxiety eased a little, but the majority remained as she continued. ‘We believe that you have some important information to share with us, and we’re willing to do so in return. But we must ask first, do you believe in magic?’

  Lainie and I exchanged glances, the first sign I had seen of unease from her. It suddenly dawned on her - judging by her expression - that we weren’t simply here for milk and cookies. I kept my back straight as I nodded.

  ‘I will admit I am more lenient as of recently about the possibility that magic may exist, yes,’ I answered, surprised when my voice failed to waver. ‘Why do you ask?’ Lainie remained quiet but nodded when Pearl looked to her for affirmation. She sat forward then and gently set down her tea cup on the glass coffee table that separated us. The woman beside her - a twin, perhaps - reached beside their couch and retrieved what appeared to be a thick and ancient text. It was dusty and the pages yellowed, and it made a weighty thud when they placed it on the table. They flipped through to a page and covered it over with a piece of paper before they looked at us.

  ‘We do believe that you, girls, discovered something recently that may be of interest to us,’ she continued, her eyes series as they leveled over us. I broke out in a sweat and barely winced when my nails dug in too deep, drawing thin trails of blood where they had pressed. She didn’t appear to notice, her gaze flitting between our two faces. Lainie sat forward, intrigued. She may have been afraid of me since discovering her fins but apparently these old family friends were trustworthy. I pretended not to feel hurt by her lack of trust in me.

  ‘Grandmother Pearl,’ the woman with Xanthias said. She stepped forward into my line of view. ‘Are you sure that you want to release these secrets? We hardly know them.’

  It was a fair question. Pearl turned her gaze on her. ‘Yes,’ she replied simply.

  The woman - probably Xanthias’ mother - bowed her head respectfully and returned to her position out of my sight. Pearl smiled apologetically and gestured to the woman beside her. They looked like twins, but the woman beside her appeared to be older judging by the immense streaks of white that pierced her hair.

  ‘This is Great Aunt Lisbeth,’ she introduced, the old woman bowing her head in respect. We returned the gesture as she brought the others forward. In turn we discovered that the woman from before was, indeed, Xanthias’ mother, Chrysabelle Adair. She appeared to be a tight woman, her lips pursed and her expression clearly indicating that she thought this wasn’t business for people she just met. Xanthias was next b
ut while Lainie gave him a quick wave, I turned my gaze away. He passed by quickly without uttering much more than a ‘hello’.

  The three young Davies girls I had already met at school, but I could never remember who was who. Like the others, they all shared the same dark hair, pale skin and blue eyes, but no one had the mystery of Xanthias. The eldest was Delora Davies, towering over her grandmother and great aunt as though they were dwarfs. She was a kind-hearted girl with a beautiful smile, but always a bit too odd for my liking.

  Her sisters were younger, twins who - when they stood together - looked like a group of triplets. Athana Davies was known as the school’s head of the yearbook, while her sister Chelsea was a local surfing champion. She beamed, her eyes occasionally flitting towards the mantel where all her trophies were lined up in order of size. When they were all introduced, she didn’t stop beaming even as they took their seats back around the bench top.

  Pearl smiled. ‘As you can see, youthfulness and beauty runs through our family,’ she said. ‘However, it doesn’t run through yours. We’ve known for many years that you aren’t biologically related to Chris and Nevada Glass. Now that you know of your adopted family, we would like to help you find your real one.’ Lainie and I exchanged a glance. What could they possibly do for us? There were billions of people in the world, and we could be related to any number of them. I met Pearl’s gaze directly.

  ‘How?’ I asked, watching her carefully. She offered me a graceful smile and gestured to the kitchen table. A row of white candles were set in place along the dark wooden surface, glowing brightly from the tiny flames.

  ‘Magic,’ she replied.