The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty)

by Genevieve Crownson

  “Ian is here to support me. He knows how difficult it’s been for me to come and face you, especially after what happened.” My voice quaked and I swallowed back a sniffle as I thought of that last awful night with Abby and his heinous act in the orchard.

  Ian took a step forward and gave me an encouraging nod. I rushed on, trying to sound authoritative.

  “We need to talk.”

  Thomas ignored me. “It’s Ian is it? On a first name basis with a man, Margaret? What would your mother say? How very improper of you. Then again, I think I like your daredevil side,” he snickered.

  It took every fiber of willpower I had not to explode in anger as he reached out and put a hand on the glass between us. I stepped back quickly, even though he couldn’t reach me. The guard in the room stepped forward, giving him a cautionary look. I had to be careful; his memories and thoughts seemed to come through very powerfully to me even without touch. His thoughts came so quickly now they made no sense. He eyed me closely and then blinked rapidly.

  White noise.

  He’d blocked his thoughts again, the bastard. But it gave me more evidence that this mind reading thing with him was not a flash in the pan.

  “I know what you plan to do Mr. Mayfield, but you can’t do it, I won’t allow it.” I tried to sound confident, hoping he didn’t catch my bluff. All I had to go on was a dream.

  “Oh really? And pray tell my sweet, what is it that I plan on doing? It really sounds quite delightful if it involves you.”

  I clenched my fists in anger. “You will never get out of this place; they will lock you up forever. If you hurt me again, the little chance you have at parole will be wiped out. No one will let you get away with it. You can’t do it.”

  I was enraged now. I wished I’d taken the chair that had been offered to me when I’d walked in. My legs had turned to wobbly jello.

  “Calm down Margaret, breathe,” Ian said, trying to placate me. He took my elbow to steady me.

  I inhaled deeply and fixed my eyes murderously on Mr. Thomas Mayfield. “You’re not going to get away with what you did to Abby. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you stay locked behind these walls.”

  He raised his eyebrows. Despite the sweat that dripped from his temples and the ugly drab grey prison uniform he wore, he was still very debonair. “So you’re implying that I’m a murderer, Margaret? Interesting that you would think such a thing, I’ve been nothing but a gentleman with you. I’m shocked that you believe I’m capable of such things. I would never do anything to hurt you or your sister Abby, there’s just been a terrible misunderstanding,” he said, giving me an oily grin.

  “You’re a liar,” I seethed. “You attacked Abby, murdered her and raped me. There is not one gentlemanly hair on your head.”

  “Come Margaret, don’t be so harsh. Did you get a little too much sun? Remember Willy is the one who lost his head, not me. He deserves a lifetime sentence. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, I will be out of here as soon as possible and we can take up where we left off. I will make sure you’re treated just as a lady should be treated.” There was a thread of malice in his voice as he spoke.

  I was trembling; it didn’t go unnoticed. “You helped Wilfred, brainwashed him somehow. You did your part to kill Abby, I know it, and now you’re threatening me. It was a mistake to come here. I don’t know why I thought I could reason with you. You’re a madman.”

  “You came because you love me, because you can’t stay away,” Thomas cooed delightedly.

  I spun around and turned to Ian. “We have to go. We have to get out of here. Now,” I said.

  I raced from the room, but not before I heard him yelling, “I love you too, Margaret! Come back! Don’t be shy with me...”

  Thomas’s voice echoed through my mind, filling every nook and cranny.

  14

  Margaret, 1939

  The winds sweeping in off the ocean were still strong, even though the rain had finally cleared. They swirled around me, enveloping me in a healing vortex. I closed my eyes allowing the sun’s heat to warm my chilled skin.

  “Margaret, are you okay? Talk to me.” Ian’s concerned voice infiltrated my warm, dreamy bubble.

  I opened my eyes and glanced over at him, annoyed. “Why did I think that I could change Thomas’s mind? What a fool I was to think that I could change the future. Especially mine.” I groaned inwardly and crossed my arms across my chest.

  Ian turned me to face him. “You had to try Margaret, we had to try. We’ll just have to be more careful next time. For now you’re safe. He is still in prison.” Ian drew me into his arms, and kissed me gently on my forehead.

  Next time? I thought. Who was Ian kidding? There was no way I was going to confront Thomas again. I shuddered. What was Ian planning?

  A few minutes before, Ian had been my solid rock and now he was planning a second attempt to reason with Thomas. Even I knew Thomas was unreachable. Ian held me tightly, but all I could think was that my knight in shining armor had lost his dazzle. Still, the scent of spice and soap was at least a comfort.

  “Margaret, there is something I have to tell you. Here, why don’t you come and sit down on these rocks?” Ian led me over to a small crop of rocks by the water’s edge. The wind licked little waves up the side. I plunked myself down very ungracefully. Ian sat beside me.

  “What is it?” I demanded. “What haven’t you told me?”

  Ian took my hands and laced them through his, directing his gaze right into my eyes. “Remember a couple of weeks ago, you came to me concerned because you were feeling nauseous and you hadn’t had your period like you should have? Well your test came back. You’re pregnant, Margaret.”

  I laughed, the kind that everyone knew was fake, the instant reflex of denial.

  “What on earth are you talking about? Pregnant? That is so ridiculous,” I said.

  “No Margaret, what’s ridiculous is what this man has done to you. You have to face up to it.”

  My composure crumbled; I felt my eyes start to water and a lone tear escaped down my cheek.

  I saw it in Ian’s thoughts, and felt it in the beat of his heart. He was telling the truth.

  What was I to do now?

  I was ruined. Thomas Mayfield had succeeded.

  I was numb. I didn’t want to talk about it. There was nothing left to say.

  15

  Margaret, October 2005 Folly Beach

  Emma tossed and turned in a restless sleep. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, despite the cool night breeze wafting in through the bedroom window. The sheer white curtains billowed like ghosts in the wind. Thin invisible strands of air swirled over her body like a sea mist. I sat in the red and gold vanity chair beside Emma’s bed, watching her breathe as she slept. I glanced at the clock; it was two minutes to midnight. In two minutes, Emma would turn 21. I knew that she wouldn’t look any different. Nothing on the outside would change. But inside, she would come to see that her life would be altered forever. I placed a light hand on hers, she was dreaming, and the dream she was having confused her. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I felt weary tonight, which was unusual for me. My bones creaked and my hip ached as if my body could sense the change in the air. Emma stirred and released a small sigh. I had disturbed her. She opened her sleep-filled eyes with a start, glancing over at me as she reoriented herself to the physical world.

  “Granna, what are you doing here? Is anything wrong? Are you all right?” Her eyes were filled with concern as she slowly sat up; she seemed a bit off kilter. Perhaps it was just as well I’d woken her when I did.

  “I’m fine Diamond; I couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs to get some warm milk. When I came back up I heard you talking in your sleep, and I wanted to see if you were all right.”

  “I’m okay Granna. Really I am. There’s no need to worry. I’m glad you woke me, to be honest.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus. “I just had the strangest dream, it felt so real.”

>   I looked over at the alarm clock, the numbers glowed red. Even without my glasses I could see it was 12:01 A.M.

  I smiled. “Happy Birthday, Emma love.” I put a hand up to her cheek. “How does it feel to be 21?”

  She beamed happily at me. Then just as quickly her face fell, as if someone had reached out and stolen her smile.

  I frowned worriedly. “What’s the matter, Emma Diamond? Tell your Granna.” I squeezed her hand encouragingly.

  “Oh Granna, I just wish things could be different. Jonathan was supposed to take me out for my birthday today. He said he had a surprise planned, but that’s all off now. Why did he have to break my heart?” She laced her fingers together in a tangled knot. I sensed they mirrored her feelings, so I chose my words carefully. The last thing I wanted to do was to upset her.

  “I’m so sorry Diamond, but you were right to follow your instincts. That much I know is right. All will make sense in time. And in the meantime, I’ve brought you a little present.” I dug a shaky hand into the pocket of my blue flannel robe and pulled out a small package.

  “What is it Granna?” she said with excitement. Her smile returned and it warmed my heart.

  “I think it’s time that you had this.” I handed her the white box wrapped in a pink ribbon. It had taken me longer to tie it than I wanted to admit. I knew the rain was coming; I always felt it in the joints of my hands.

  Emma took the box from me and untied the pink bow. It fell away and fluttered like a butterfly before it landed on the rug.

  “Oh Granna, it’s beautiful.” Her eyes pooled as she lifted out an ornate gold locket hanging from a thin gold chain. “You’re giving me Great Aunt Abby’s locket? But why? What did I ever do to deserve it? It’s all you have of her—I couldn’t possibly take it.”

  I smiled at her. “I have more of her than you know. Besides, she would want you to have it. It’s been waiting a long time for you.”

  “Thank you Granna, I love it.” She clutched it to her chest and leaned over to give me a hug.

  I laughed. “I’m like a small child, not being able to wait to give you your present.”

  “I’m so glad you didn’t wait.” She smiled and circled the locket around her neck and fastened the clasp. It glistened in the moonlight, winking, once again at the world.

  “What do you think Granna? How does it look?” she asked.

  “It’s perfect,” I said softly. “But now I should let you go back to sleep. We don’t want you to be a sleepyhead on your birthday.”

  “Okay Granna.”

  Emma snuggled back into the pillow, her blond hair fanning out like moonbeams. Her eyelids drooped as she drifted off into the land of dreams. Her delicate hands still clutched at the treasure encircling her neck.

  I gazed at her for a moment, and then went soundlessly to the window. The moon was bright and full; I looked up at the stars and offered a whispered prayer to the heavens.

  “And so it begins. Please keep her safe.”

  16

  Margaret, 2005

  I stayed in the room awhile longer, and in the dark I listened to the dream.

  There is a man; I do not understand who he is or what he wants. Yet he knows me so very well. I think that I am in love with him. He offers me his hand and I step out of an antique car. It’s mirror-black with silver chrome wheels. I can see myself reflected in the shiny paint and I check myself over. I want to look good for this man, this man who has no name. I am surprised to find that the person I see reflected back in the shiny black paint is not me at all. Who is this woman? And why am I her? Then, as if I have no control over my actions, I find I’m somewhere else.

  I’m with Granna now. She is so beautiful, so young. How can I be with her? I try to talk to her, touch her arm, but I do not exist to her. She cannot see me or does not want to.

  “Granna Margaret! It’s me, Emma! Can you hear me? I need to talk to you, please help me, I’m so confused. What is happening to me? Have I somehow gone back in time? Whose body is this? Oh Granna, it seems so familiar to me, but it isn’t mine.” I start to sob hysterically when I realize I’m unable to reach her. I frantically look around and notice that I am no longer in the street, but on the beach, the smell of salt is strong in the air. Granna is here too.

  She drops to her knees and vomits in the sand. We are near Granna’s house, but the beach is different, so quiet. Granna starts to cry and screams into the wind.

  “I don’t want it, do you hear me? I don’t want it! It is not mine!” She crumples into the golden dunes like a fragile butterfly battered by the wind. I am screaming too. The wind whistles around me, drowning out my screams. Then I hear Granna’s voice.

  “Emma wake up, wake up! It’s just a dream, love.” I had to get her out of the dream, she couldn’t know too much. Not yet.

  She opened her eyes, filled with relief that it was just a dream. I sensed she was pleased I looked as I should to her, with my peppered white hair and deep wrinkles.

  “Oh Granna, I had the most awful dream. You were there, but so young, I saw you, but you wouldn’t talk to me, even when I touched you, you never saw. You were sick so sick…”

  “Ssshhh...Darling it’s all right, you’re safe now, it’s over.” I pushed back Emma’s hair from her flushed face and thought about what had just happened.

  Had Abby been in Emma’s dream? The locket was already binding them together. Abby must have been there that day on the beach when I felt so alone. I had no idea that Abby had been watching over me. How strange she would show it to me through the child. Why was Diamond seeing my past in her dreams?

  There was more to this journey than I understood. There were some things that I was still destined to discover. Maybe she needed me to know she was there.

  Yes, there had to be more.

  Long after Diamond had fallen back asleep I sat quietly by the window, pondering the question until the dawn cracked open over the sea and filled the heavens with light.

  17

  Margaret, July 1939

  I was dreaming. I saw myself hovering above my slumped form. I could hear screaming; terrified wretched screams. I looked across the room. Abby. I reached out to comfort her but my arm went right through her.

  “Can’t you get her to shut up, Wilfred?” Thomas said.

  “I’m trying, but she’s hysterical.” Wilfred whined.

  “Do something. Or we’ll have the whole damn bar up here.”

  Wilfred hesitated for a brief second then grabbed hold of Abby. She shoved back at him. “What have you done to Margaret?”

  “We’ve done nothing to your stupid sister. She’s fine, just knocked out is all.”

  “I hate you! I hate you!” She screamed, pummeling his chest with her fist.

  Thomas exploded. He seemed possessed by what seemed like demons. He lunged out and took hold of Abby and flung her across the room, the back of her head smashing into one of the stored tables. She gave one last breath as the air was released from her lungs and slumped noiselessly to the ground.

  I watched helplessly; then motivated to action I swung myself at Thomas scratching and clawing at him, but I was nothing but air, he never even saw me. And I fell right through him.

  Wilfred, the pinhead that he was, looked as though he had finally escaped from the spell Thomas had put him under. He just stood there in dumb horror at Abby’s still form. Finally he spoke.

  “Look what you have done!” His voice shook; terror crossed his face when he turned to stare at Thomas, whose normally suave exterior was now a grotesque mask. Wilfred released a yelp of fear and fled as fast as his short bandy legs could carry him.

  “Stupid fool,” Thomas hissed. “Such a waste of my time.” He turned his attention back to my still form. In a low melodic tone he began to chant as he tore my dress and started to ravage my body. I couldn’t bear it any longer. I looked away.

  I awoke with a start, beads of sweat running down my face.

  18

  Margaret, July 1
939 Folly Beach

  “I need answers from you! Don’t you understand? Why did you do this to me? Why are you haunting me?” The rain poured down; my screams were lost amidst loud claps of thunder.

  My heart pounded.

  Nobody knew I’d gone down to the beach.

  I knew that when the police told me he’d escaped that he would find me, but not this soon.

  I thought he might kill me. Just like I dreamed he would. But he’d had every chance and even said himself he wanted something from me.

  But what?

  Our connection was severed; he continued to block me out. I was working blind.

  Rivulets of water streamed down Thomas’s face. He knelt over me, his strong hands holding me down with an almost primal force. His aura glowed a brilliant red, so strong flames of hatred seemed to emanate from his body. He was ranting now, a crazed demon. “Twice now you have made me a fool and thwarted my efforts. How dare you? You are an insignificant nothing! Do you hear me? You will give me what belongs to me. Even if I have to kill you to do it.” He took hold of my shoulders and shook me until my teeth rattled.

  “Please! Let me go!” I sobbed, “I won’t tell anyone where you are.”

  His lips curled in an ugly sneer. “Don’t you understand that nothing else matters to me but what I want? I’ve waited long enough.”

  Fear gripped me. The man was a lunatic. I racked my brain, trying to think of some way to get myself out of this. There had to be something.

  He held a blade to my throat. The tip pierced my skin and spots of blood dotted the sand. He kept me pinned to the ground, helpless.

  “I’m sorry, my beautiful Margaret, but you simply have to die.” He positioned his arm higher so the knife aligned to the angle of my neck.

  “Wait!” My mind reeled with thoughts of Abby. Time to tell the truth, the only thing that might reach him. It was a risk I had to take.

  “I’m pregnant! And it’s yours! Are you happy now? Isn’t that what you wanted? Can you really kill your own child?” I stared defiantly at him.