by Rivi Jacks
I peek up at Taylor; his dark brown eyes meet mine, and he smiles. He certainly is warm.
The driveway to Nick’s house crosses the same creek that flows through part of Ben’s farm. Nick had a wooden bridge built, and the tires rumble as we drive across. The creek is small, but during large rainfalls, it swells over the banks, and the water roars as it rushes to get to the Niangua River. The driveway continues through the woods and into a clearing on top of the hill.
At the back of the clearing, illuminated by security and landscaping lights, is a large log house with a wraparound porch. The driveway circles around to a paved parking area in front of the garage where a black GM Hummer is parked. Nick stops the truck, and Taylor removes his arm from my shoulders before hopping out. I already miss his warmth.
“We’ll meet you back at Jake’s,” Nick tells him.
Taylor winks at me. “Stay warm.”
As we drive away, I glance back. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Next time, I’ll show you around. I want you to see it.”
In the woods, a dog runs into the road ahead of us. As we get closer, I notice its fur seems silvery, and it’s huge. It leaps off the driveway and disappears in the darkness.
“That was a wolf!” I lean forward, looking out Nick’s side window. He glances toward where the wolf disappeared before returning his attention to the road. He doesn’t say anything as I settle in the seat, thinking I must have been mistaken.
We head south, and before long, we turn on the country lane leading to the Rogers Plantation. We drive into a clearing where the house sits, and moonlight streams through the clouds, displaying the old mansion in all its faded glory.
“Oh!” I sigh from the sheer beauty.
“Are you into old houses?”
“I am... this old house.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Many times,” I answer as I get out of the truck.
I can see light from the back of the house through the front windows. Nick takes my hand. “We’ll walk around to the back door,” he says. We step onto a small, enclosed porch, and Nick knocks on the curtain-covered window. When the door opens, Nick steps in, pulling me along. “Lucian, I’ve brought someone I want you to meet.”
I blink, adjusting to the kitchen light after the darkness.
“This is Sofie,” Nick announces, and I step forward, anxious to meet my first witch. I look up—and up some more.
He must be at least seven feet tall and bone thin. To go with his long body, he has a long face with sharp cheekbones and nose. His hair, long, stringy, and black, is heavily streaked with gray and falls past his shoulders. He’s dressed in a dark-colored shirt and slacks. His waist is close to my shoulder, and I wonder where he goes to buy pants that long. Lucian Zelt steps forward and offers his hand. With caution, I give him mine.
“I am delighted to meet you, Sofie.” His voice is deep with a slight accent.
I stare up into black eyes, smiling hesitantly. “I... it’s... nice to meet you too, sir.” Sir? I guess I’m a little intimidated. I don’t know if it’s because of his presence or his height. His silent scrutiny doesn’t help.
“Please, call me Lucian.” His face transforms with the smile he bestows upon me. His teeth are a dazzling white, and all the contours and sharp points of his face soften. His smile puts me at ease. “Please sit. Estella will be right down.” He pulls out a chair, and I sit at the large, round oak table in the middle of the room.
With my back to the porch door, I have an unhindered view of the kitchen. Structurally, nothing has changed from the last time I’d been here, but the décor, without question, has. The wood floor and woodwork appear refinished. Where the old cabinets used to hang, shelves are loaded with jars of unknown substances and bowls in a variety of colors and sizes. The kitchen appliances look as if they are right out of a fifties magazine. Hanging from the ceiling on hooks are bunches of dried flowers and herbs. Fresh herbs are growing in pots on the shelves in front of the window over the sink. The whole effect is clean, homey, and pleasant.
Nick sits beside me and exchanges conversation about the weather with Lucian, who sits across from us. I wonder when his sister will join us and where she might be in the house. Beyond the kitchen are three larger rooms, and the upstairs holds four more, along with a bathroom.
Lucian turns his attention to me. “You know this house.”
“Um... yes.” It’s a little disconcerting how he keys in on what I’m thinking. “We played here as kids. Mostly outside, but sometimes we’d get brave and come in.”
He raises an eyebrow. Nick lays his arm on the back of my chair and says, “Sofie says this house is rumored to be haunted.”
Lucian looks at Nick as he speaks, but he returns his attention to me. “You came here as a child, with your friends, knowing that there might be ghosts?”
“Most of the time I was just with my friend. The others were too afraid.”
“But you were not.” He studies me. “Why was that?” He sounds interested, and I decide to be honest.
“I guess because... I realized ghosts weren’t the scariest thing out there.” My face heats as he continues to watch me. A door closing alerts us seconds before a woman glides into the kitchen. I rise with a gasp, stepping back from the table.
“Sofie?” Nick stands, reaching out to me.
I can only stare at the tall, mysterious woman from the grocery staring right back at me. She further disturbs me by shifting her gaze behind me, as if seeing someone else. I turn even though I know I’ll see no one. I swallow my fear and look at her. She responds by raising an eyebrow. This must be the witch Estella, and in that moment, I realize she’s aware of one of my darkest secrets.
CHAPTER FOUR
“What’s going on?” Nick glances at the tall woman dominating the room. “Estella?” I take his hand. He pulls me close, encircling my waist with his arm.
Lucian stands. “Everything is fine. Please, let us sit.” He pulls out a chair for his sister, but she continues standing as she observes me.
“Lucian—” her voice is raspy “—please fill the kettle. I believe Sofia would appreciate a cup of tea.” She has the same precise accent as her brother. She motions toward my chair. “Please sit. I will explain.” She takes her seat and I hesitate before taking mine. I leave my chair pulled out. I want the space in case I need to move quickly. I’m not sure why I’m on such high alert. I just am.
“What’s going on?” Nick repeats.
“I believe I... spooked Sofia yesterday at the grocery store.”
Nick glances at me before asking Estella, “Explain please,” with a slight frown.
Lucian rattles some cups as he brings them to the table, making me flinch. He reaches over and pats my shoulder. “It is okay, child.”
“I did not mean to frighten you, Sofia.”
“You... didn’t. What were you doing?”
“Doing?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Why were you... poking at me?” I’m not sure why I chose those words, but that was exactly what she’d been doing.
Estella smiles while Nick asks, “What?”
“I was certain you sensed what I was doing,” she says, self-satisfied.
“And that was?” Nick appears to be getting angry.
This conversation is coming to the point where she might say things I don’t want anyone to hear. I think she reads my sudden anxiety when my gaze flashes to Nick, sliding quickly back to her. She studies me before answering Nick. “I probed her.”
“Why would you do that?” Yep, he is getting mad, and I’m not sure why.
She considers me again as Lucian pours fragrant, steaming tea from a blue ceramic pot. “Your young friend has a special aura.” Estella smiles at me. “I only touched it. I have never seen one such as yours.”
Aura? “Maybe you should have asked first,” I suggest.
Lucian chuckles. “That is a very good point, Estella.” He sets cream and suga
r in the center of the table.
“I sense that Nick will drink his tea with sugar—” she begins.
“Estella, you’ve served me tea many times,” Nick inserts.
“Yes, and I always place the sugar on the table but never the cream, and I have never asked you how you drink your tea.” I can tell Nick is wondering what she’s getting at. I am too. “With Sofie, I cannot tell.” She smiles at me again. “When I saw you yesterday, I was very curious. I apologize. Please forgive my rudeness.”
I nod. I don’t want to be the center of attention any longer.
Estella holds her hand out to me. “I am pleased to meet you, Sofia. I hope we can become friends.”
Make no mistake; I don’t want to shake hands with her. I don’t know why; I just don’t. But I do. If she probes or anything, I don’t feel it.
Lucian speaks again. “I believe Nick has something to tell us.”
Nick explains what has happened to Jake. Both Lucian and Estella ask good questions and sound genuinely concerned.
I sip my tea. It’s delicious, and I drink it unsweetened with cream. I observe the siblings as they speak with Nick. They could be twins. Estella is shorter than her brother, but their features are the same.
“Has anyone else seen anything such as what Jake saw?” Lucian asks.
“If they have, they’ve decided to keep quiet.” Nick glances at me and shakes his head. “Few showed at the meeting we had earlier.”
“They are in denial of something they cannot begin to understand,” Estella empathizes.
“Do you?” I ask. “Do you understand what’s happening?”
She looks thoughtful. “Yes, I do.”
“Will you tell us?” I ask. Her gaze shifts to Nick. I turn to him with surprise. “You know! When were you going to tell us?”
“Now wait,” he responds, “I didn’t know for sure. I was aware of what Estella and Lucian suspected, but even they weren’t sure.”
“And now you are.” I glance around the table and look back at Nick. “You didn’t think my family or the farmers who lost cattle needed this information?” I’m getting angry now.
“I didn’t think starting a panic over our suspicions was a good idea.” His voice sounds a little heated.
“Okay, I can give you that, but you needed to tell Jake at least. He could have lost his life today, chasing after whatever—what the hell was that thing?”
Again, the three of them share cryptic glances. I stand. I’ve had about enough of their evasiveness. “I can’t believe you! Jake’s your best friend!” I tell Nick.
“Sofie.” He reaches out, but I dodge his hand.
“Excuse me, I need some fresh air.”
The night is pitch black and bitterly cold. I huddle in my coat, already shivering when Nick joins me a few minutes later.
He stands beside me in silence. At last he speaks. “What we need to tell you... what I need to tell you... will be extremely hard to believe. But first, let’s go back inside. It’s freezing and may not be safe out here.”
I glance at him, startled, before turning to scan the inky dark. As we enter the back porch, he pulls me into his arms. I don’t relax fully, still a little angry.
“Please believe me, I’m not trying to deceive anyone. I hope when you hear us out, you’ll understand.” He leans back. “Promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”
His request puzzles me, but it’s reasonable. “I can do that, but my family needs to know. No more keeping secrets.”
“Agreed.”
“We believe a race of beings known as the Kihn are moving into the area,” Nick announces. We’re back in Estella’s kitchen around the table, and I have a fresh cup of tea. I open my mouth, but I close it when Nick gives me a raised eyebrow and holds up a finger. “The Kihn are an old, nomadic race that has roamed the earth for centuries.”
I frown. I don’t remember ever hearing of them.
“The last time they showed themselves to humans was in the early 1900s, also here in the States. They’re seeking the gate to the Realm of Kava.” I frown even harder. What? “If they’re allowed to breach the gate, every supernatural entity on this planet will cease to exist.”
“Wait a minute,” I say, holding up my hand. I glance from Nick’s face to Lucian’s to Estella’s. Each one looks at me in earnest. I’m sure I shouldn’t find it hard to believe him since so much of my life contains the unimaginable, but it’s as if he’s beginning a once upon a time. I pick up my cup of cooled tea. “Okay. By supernatural, you mean... what exactly?”
Nick sighs heavily. “I’ve considered the best way to explain this part.” He stares at his hands, folded on the table. I wait for him to continue. “All the fairy tales, fables, and myths that exist, exist for a reason. They” —he’s choosing his words carefully— “were not invented from someone’s imagination. The stories are true, Sofie.”
I stare straight into his eyes, such a beautiful dark blue without a hint of deception. I’ve always been pretty good at knowing when someone’s lying. “Okay, so you’re telling me there are” —I glance about— “there are actual leprechauns, trolls, Bigfoot...”
Nick takes my hand, and his is warm and oddly familiar. “Yes, that’s what I’m telling you.” He squeezes my hand. “There are—at the risk of sounding cliché—things that go bump in the night.”
“Oh... I’ve always known that.” He looks puzzled, and Estella stands and moves to the stove to prepare more tea. “Please, don’t make any on our account. I’m certain we need to get to my house...” My voice trails off when I see Nick’s face.
“I have more to tell you,” he says.
“You do?” I have an awful feeling I’m not going to care for what else he has to say.
“The Kihn are ruthless in their determination to find the gate in time. They hold no regard for human life.” His gaze holds mine. “They move into an area sometimes a year or two in advance of the gates opening to prepare for moving their people in.”
“How many are there?” My voice comes out in a whisper.
He glances at Lucian, who answers, “A hundred years ago, we estimated them in the tens of thousands. Of course, a number of them are women and children. Today our—”
“What?” I exclaim. Oh, this is too surreal.
“Sofie.” I turn my attention back to Nick. “They are a race of beings, living and reproducing, but they do exist and will move into this area.”
“And... they’re responsible for the cattle killing?”
“They are.” His expression is grave. “The majority of the Kihn will not come until they’re certain the gate opening is near.” He hesitates. “The ones already here will continue to hunt your livestock. They’ll venture farther out, preying on animals from surrounding communities. At times, humans will cross their paths and—” He holds out his hands.
“What happened today with Jake will probably be repeated.”
“Yes.”
“And sometimes... people will die,” I murmur.
His eyes search mine. “Yes.” I think he fears freaking me out. Too late. I’m already there.
“Where is this gate? I mean, if it’s here in Sweetwater?”
“We don’t know for sure.” At my expression, he’s quick to add, “The Kihn don’t know either.”
“The gate,” Lucian further explains, “is not a physical object, but an opening in our dimension to another.”
“Why do y’all think it’s happening here? Maybe you’re mistaken.”
Estella leans forward in her chair. “We study the stars, as the Kihn do. Until the past few weeks, we were unsure if the gate would be here in this area. The actual site has always been—difficult to find.”
“But they’ve been here for months.”
She shrugs. “They might have been mistaken. It’s happened before.”
I think of Nick’s earlier comment. “You mentioned ‘find the gate in time.’ So, the gate is only open for a short time?”
Ni
ck nods. “Yes. They become relentless as the time draws near. We’re not even sure how long the gate stays open. We’ve never found it in time.”
I realize all our lives are in danger. “How do we stop them?” I include Estella and Lucian in my question.
“It’s more an answer of controlling than stopping,” Nick states.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Lucian answers, “They are not easy to catch. They are masters of hiding and, as Nick told you, they are ruthless.”
“We have to do something!”
“We already have plans in place, but of course, your community must be included.” Nick reaches for my hand. “We’ll wait until we’re at your house to talk about some of these plans.”
“Okay.”
Nick says, “I won’t lie to you.” I raise my eyebrow at him. “I did not lie before. I didn’t think the time was right to expose what we suspected might be happening. Things are going to get tough. The gate is somewhere in this area, and we will need help. Taylor has been working on that the last few days.”
“Okay... sorry.” At this point, all I want is to go home.
“Let’s go,” he says. “The night’s getting late.”
After saying goodbye to the Zelts, we hurry to the truck and strap ourselves in. Looking out the back window, Nick shifts the truck into reverse.
“What are you?” I whisper.
His eyes slash to mine. He turns back around and shifts into park. We sit with me watching him, waiting. Finally, he answers. “I... am a Reborn.”
“A Reborn?”
“I live my life, and I die, and in the next second... I’m born again. I live my life once more and die once more and...” He’s silent.
I stare at his face, illuminated by the dash lights. “How... how old are you when you die?”
“Sixty-nine,” he whispers.
“Every time?”
“Yes.”
“How long...?” I’m not sure what to ask. “How many...?”
“I was born the first time in 1847.”
My mouth drops open. I close it at once and face the front. I don’t know how to respond. Over time, I’ve discovered sometimes not saying anything is for the best.
