Love burned inside me, waking up my senses and making me feel alive again.
“Okay,” I said simply. “Okay. Thanks.”
I stood up with the book. “Hey, have you talked to Mr. Becker about… well, you know, about what happened?” I asked.
She got up. “As a matter of fact, yes. We’ve been having meetings about it and…”
“Meetings?” I interrupted. “As in plural, as in more than one meeting?”
“Yes, meetings. Well, geez Tristen, remember what happened? We just couldn’t not talk about it, could we? Mr. Becker has been explaining some things. Although there’s some things that he doesn’t want to say yet until he talks to you.”
“Do you know where he is going?”
“Well, not specifically, but he is going to go find more information about what happened. He said that there were some irregularities and that he needed to research more.”
“Hmmm, I wonder where he goes to find out more. I mean, is there a library for that kind of stuff or what?”
“Huh, good question. I think that he is a combination of a researcher and a thaumaturge. I’m sure he has a place to go for information.”
“What is a thurmaturg? I’ve never even heard of that word.”
“Thaumaturge,” she corrected me. “I think it’s like a wizard or something.”
I looked at her skeptically.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s just what he said.”
I tried to imagine him in Hogwarts and burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh.
She smiled at the sound of my laughter. “Well, something like that. I’m not really sure. Come on Tristen, it’s not so crazy.” She began to laugh. “I take that back, the whole thing is crazy. Well, not that crazy,” she amended. “Anyway, you’re a Seeker, how hard is it to believe that he’s a wizard? I mean, look at what he did back there, fighting Azaz and all those soldiers. Of course he would need some kind of power to fight something like that.” She stood overlooking the mountains as if she was thinking about it. The memory of him fighting Azaz surfaced in my mind and I sobered. She might be right after all.
“Wow, sounds like y’all have talked about a lot.”
She shrugged.
“Without me.” I couldn’t help the jealous tinge in my voice. If anyone needed to be explained things, it was to me.
“He didn’t want to talk to you until you were… ready. Especially if –”
She stopped abruptly.
“What?” I questioned. “If what?”
“I’m sorry, Tristen. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m sorry.”
“If my dad dies?” I filled in.
“Well, I wasn’t going to put it that way,” she responded quietly.
Anger boiled inside me. Anger and despair. “Well, how else are we supposed to put it?”
“I was going to say if he needs a lot of physical therapy when he wakes up. Look Tristen, I have hope for your dad. I couldn’t have lived through my upbringing with my dad without it. I believe that you’re dad’s going to pull through this. He’s your dad. I’m sure that he’s the one that taught you how to be heroic.”
“Me? Heroic?” I scoffed.
“Yeah, Tristen, you are. I mean, you’ve shown me that several times. You went into that riptide for Isolda, and you fought a wolf, for heaven’s sake. I know that for Jacques and his boys it’s normal, but it’s not normal for us. We haven’t grown up being taught since we could walk how to defend ourselves. You also stood up for Jehanette and tried to save her from those men. I don’t know many people who would do all that. So yes, I would say that you are brave.”
“I was just doing what was right,” I responded.
“Exactly. And I’m sure that your dad had something to do with that. I don’t think that you would be so strong if he hadn’t taught you how important it is to do the right thing. And so I’m sure that he’s the same. He’s tough, I know it. He’ll pull through.”
I thought of him, lying in the hospital bed. He had cuts on his face where the car’s window glass had cut him. He also had a huge cast on his whole leg. His accident had been so bad that they’d had to cut him out of our car. If he woke up, the doctor said he would have a long road to recovery, but my dad was a hard worker and very determined. I knew that he would make it.
I thought about that day back in New York. My dad was so strong. He’d saved me from the mountain of debris that came down from the towers. Then I thought of him and how he acted when my mom was going through her treatments. Most importantly, he never gave up hope. He always told me that he knew she would make it. And she has.
“You’re right,” I said.
“I know I’m right.” She smiled smugly. “Now let’s go home. I’m hungry.”
As if on cue my stomach growled again.
“Sounds good,” I agreed. I grabbed the book but before I opened its pages I closed my eyes and tried to settle my mind. I thought of a carved wooden bench in a garden with a crawling creek. Peace flooded through my mind and settled over my bones.
Ailey grabbed my hand. I looked into her eyes. Now I knew who I was now and would forever be to Ailey: her twin.
I opened the pages to the book and all went quiet. It flashed bright as the noonday sun and a moment later we were standing in the field behind my house. The sun was just starting to set here and there was light and warmth coming from my house. And, like my dad taught me, I felt hope again.
AFTERWORD
Ailey stared at the man, although he thought she was looking beyond him. It was always hard to tell with her.
“Did you see him?” he asked.
She nodded in agreement.
“And?”
She sat quietly, propped on top of the table with her feet dangling.
“Did you hear me?” he asked out loud.
“Of course. I’m sorry, I was just thinking about him.”
The man sighed, feeling guilty. “I know. I’m sorry. I know that this is a shock. And you’re probably annoyed that I did not tell you that he was your brother and that he had this gift.”
“Twin,” she corrected. “You did not tell me that he was my twin.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Your twin.”
She looked up at him.
“How did you do it?”
“Although I was pretty sure that he would develop his gift, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, and it was essential that he — and you — only learned about your ties if he came into his gift. I couldn’t take the risk.”
“That’s not what I asked you,” she persisted.
He paused, thinking, and then closed his eyes, clearing his mind and thought of swinging in a hammock on the beach with the sound of clear blue waves lapping in the background.
She laughed out loud and the sound of her bell tones cheered him.
“I thought you wanted to go on a vacation,” she said. He grinned at her.
Suddenly, Ailey became serious. “And his father?” she asked. “I mean, our father?” she corrected herself.
Dark thoughts clouded the man’s mind and he turned his face away, trying to hide from her, although he knew he could never hide anything from her. It had been extremely difficult to hide Tristen’s true identity from her.
“Nothing. I’m sorry.”
She gazed out of the classroom, her thoughts far away. “I think that for now we should let him be with his family. Of course, we should wait to see how his dad recovers. After that, we will tell him everything.”
She looked down sadly, considering her next words.
“Maybe we should ease him into… all this.” She gestured around the room. “About the… sacrifices,” she stumbled over the word.
The man said nothing. He just met her eyes with determination. He loved and trusted her like the daughter he never had the chance to have and would protect them both now. Now that Tristen’s gift had triggered the beginning.
They sat for a minute in silence.
Fin
ally she said, “Ask me the question you’ve been wanting to ask me all night.”
Immediately he responded, “Did you tell him?”
“No,” she replied.
❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦
Sample from the next book: The Secret Heeder
I glanced at the page torn from the school directory; it was crumpled and had a ketchup stain. I shoved it back into my pocket and looked for Isolda’s apartment. My heart thumped in my chest and I struggled to calm my jitters.
I had no idea how Isolda was going to react to my just showing up here. I had barely spoken to her since the day we returned from France. In fact, I had barely spoken to anyone since that day. Except for Ailey.
But it was time. Time to pull free of the shock of my dad’s coma and come alive to the world again.
What if I waited too long to go to see Isolda? What if she’s already moved on?
I found her number, #207, and took a deep breath before I knocked shyly on her door. Inside, a dog barked and several feet pounded toward the door. It jerked open; a young girl stood there, with an even younger girl looking eagerly under the first one’s arm. They both looked like younger versions of Isolda. I could see that their living room was decorated with bright and cheery colors.
“Hi,” the first one said brightly.
“Who are you?” the second one chimed.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Tristen. Is—” I had no time to finish before the girls dissolved into giggles.
“Isolda,” the older one hollered. “Trih-staan is here.”
“Your boyf—”
A hand reached out, pushed both girls back and then slammed the door. Embarrassed, I took a step back and looked around.
Then the door opened abruptly and Isolda stood, alone, in the door way.
I grinned widely. The movement felt foreign to my mouth.
“Hi! You’re here,” she said.
“Hey,” I answered. “I am.”
“And you’re smiling,” she commented.
The slice of peace I felt came crashing down on me and the pain in my chest constricted. I hid my eyes to keep them from betraying the pain.
“No, no, no. I didn’t mean that. I mean, I’m sorry. I'm happy to see you smile. It seems like it’s been so long.” She paused, looking distressed. “I mean, I know that you have every reason to be sad, with your dad and all. I just meant, I mean, I like to see that you are happy when you look at me.” She paused again and the silence seemed to stretch on.
I tried to smile again but this time it was forced.
“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I always mess things up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Really, I’m happy to see you.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, you didn’t really seem like it at school. Anymore.”
I frowned. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“No, stop. No frowning. At least when it comes to me. Stop it.”
I exaggerated the frown and she burst out laughing. “You look like a clown,” she cried.
“Wait, what?”
“You know, like those clowns with the sad face painted on.”
“Oh,” I replied, embarrassed.
“You look great,” she said. I looked up at her, suddenly serious, and caught her eyes. They were blue with a little bit of green around the center today. Her face grew somber and the air buzzed around us as we stared at each other.
I reached toward her and tugged on the belt loop on the side of her jeans. She instantly responded and stepped down from the doorway. We were only inches apart.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered earnestly, staring deeply into my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I replied.
“I know. It’s okay,” she said. “I just… I just want to be here for you. I can be here for you. For whatever you need.”
I closed my eyes and gathered her to me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and held me tightly. My pounding heart settled into a calm rhythm and my nerves stilled. Then, I leaned my head down on hers and sighed sadly.
“Your dad’s going to be okay, you know,” she said.
I stiffened. “Is he?” I gulped.
She pulled back to look up at me.
“Yes,” she said, with a determined look in her eyes. “He will.”
My throat tightened but I pushed down my sadness and pulled her back to me.
“I hope so,” was all I could say.
I squeezed her tight.
I couldn’t let her go.
Eventually giggles erupted behind her and I looked to see two faces peeking behind the door. Isolda turned around and sighed.
“Alright girls, back to finishing your homework.”
“Aw, man. Do we have to?” they complained.
“Yes, you do. Now, go on.” Isolda shooed them back and then shut the door behind them. Then she turned to look at me.
“So, er, do you want to come in or...?” She looked hesitant.
Doubt overcame me.
“Oh, I uh…” I tried to remember the reason I came over. Or, at least, the excuse I gave myself. “I need to get a car and was hoping that you would come with me,” I said. “Unless, you don’t want to. Or, of course, if you’re busy, you don’t have to come.”
“Of course I want to come, Tristen. Really? You want me to help you pick out a car?”
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“Of course, it sounds like fun,” she exclaimed.
I smiled, relieved.
“When?” she asked.
“Um, right now?” I replied.
“Now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She perked up. “Yeah, why not?” She turned to open the door and leaned in. “Jenessa!” she yelled.
“Yes?” Jenessa squeaked out from behind the door.
Isolda rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving for a little bit. You’re in charge.”
“Really? Where you going?” She poked her head out.
“Out. I’ll be back in time for dinner.” She paused. “On second thought, make macaroni and cheese if I’m late.”
“Are you going out with your boyf—”
Isolda slammed the door abruptly and turned toward me. “You ready to go?” she asked.
I couldn’t help but grin and she grinned in response.
“I think your sister was trying to tell you something,” I said, teasing.
“No she wasn’t. Let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs.
“What was she about to say?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“Shut up,” she said and I laughed.
“Did you bring your mom’s car?” she asked when we got to the parking lot.
“Oh yeah…” I pulled on my neck. “Um, do you mind driving? My mom’s using her car.”
“Oh, okay sure. I need to go get my keys and purse. What should we do with your bike?”
I could feel my face turning red. “I… uh. I walked here.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “Why?”
“I don’t have a bike anymore.”
“Why?”
I was quiet for a minute. I pictured Greg rolling over my front tire with his red Hummer but I didn’t want to admit what happened.
“What happened to your bike?” she persisted.
When I didn’t respond, she stood in front of me, with her hands on her hips, forcing me to look her into the eyes. “Tristen, what happened to your bike?” she asked, anger turning her eyes a steely blue.
“I was just talking to Greg and he—”
“Ah! Seriously?” she interrupted. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Of course he did something to your bike. That jerk. What a jerk!” She paced back and forth and mumbled, “When I see him again, I’m gonna… He can’t just do whatever he wants and get away with it.”
I reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping her pacing, and then pulled her to hug me, trying to still her.
“How
about we not say anything to him about this?” I said. I could feel the anger radiating off her in waves. “The bike was old, and it’s just a bike. It didn’t mean anything to me. But you mean something to me. So, let’s just forget about it for now and not let it ruin our day.”
She stilled. “I mean something to you?”
“Of course you do.”
She was silent.
“And, it also gives me an excuse to buy a car.”
“Yeah, okay. You’re right,” she mumbled.
“What? I can’t hear you,” I teased.
“Ok! Fine,” she said, louder.
I leaned back and tipped her chin up toward me and grinned. She attempted to smile but bit her lip instead. Strawberry lip gloss. I breathed her smell in deeply and brushed my lips against her forehead briefly. Then I laid my head on her head contentedly and nuzzled my chin against her hair.
She traced my arm for a while with the tips of her fingers.
This was exactly what I needed: to be near her.
“Come on,” she said begrudgingly. “Let’s go get you a car.”
I sighed heavily. “Alright.”
She laughed and then ran up the stairs for her keys.
“What happened? Where’s your boyfriend?” I heard Jenessa say before the door slammed and Isolda jogged back down the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
❦
“You have got to be kidding me,” Isolda exclaimed.
I blushed. She reached out and grabbed the check I was holding. It was made out to CASH and the amount line was blank. After reading it, she huffed and pushed it back into my hand.
“Make me sick,” she mumbled. The light turned green and she huffed again.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Tell me.”
“Nothing, nothing is wrong.” She sighed and put on a perky face. “Where are we going? The Mercedes dealership? Lexus? Lincoln?”
I laughed. “I’m not eighty years old.”
The Last Seeker: Book 1: a teen & YA magical, fantasy, paranormal, & adventure novel (TRISTEN) Page 24
