The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty)

Home > Other > The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty) > Page 14
The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty) Page 14

by Genevieve Crownson


  “Margaret, sweetheart, we will get through this. We are not going to allow this war to separate us. You are holding my hands so I know you are aware of my innermost thoughts. Remember, I love you with all my being. This war will be over before you know it and we will be together again.”

  The train whistle blew and I heard those awful words “All Aboard!” from the conductor.

  Ian pulled me close. I felt his anguish and wept.

  “I love you my darling,” I whispered.

  “I love you too always.” I felt him pull away and he kissed me, his hand caressing my face. And just for a moment we were no longer at the train station. We were just two people in love. No war. No magic.

  But then his lips left mine and I was back to the stark reality the war had brought.

  “No more tears, Margaret. No goodbyes. I will be back soon. Tell Astrid I love her with all my heart.”

  I blew him a kiss. “I will.”

  And with that he stepped onto the train. I watched as the carriage doors closed, and the whistle blew once more as the train rolled away in a cloud of steam.

  “Let me him come back to me,” I whispered.

  44

  Margaret

  It seemed all of our lives were changing. Heidi went to work at a defense plant. She said she had to do her part to help with so many of the men away at war.

  Food, gas and clothing had been rationed. The whole country was in turmoil. We had all become dependent on radio reports for the news of the fighting overseas. I prayed ever night for Ian’s safety, and for all the men that were fighting for our country. It was while Ian was away that the biggest change of all occurred.

  Astrid was now three. Mama said she looked like me with her high cheek bones and striking beauty. Heidi and Mrs. Moody had also said as much. I didn’t see it. I agreed that Astrid was beautiful. But I was definitely plain.

  One night after listening to the wireless with Mama, I went up to check on Astrid before going to bed. I stood and stared in shocked silence in the doorway. To say I was dumbfounded was an understatement.

  There she was, levitating just above her bed. Her bright blonde hair fanned around her like a halo. Her little hands resting on her stomach. She slept soundly, as if nothing were amiss.

  I dropped to my knees as tears ran unchecked down my cheeks.

  The fear was stronger than any other. The fear of a mother for her child. This was the first time that Astrid had shown any signs of anything magical. I had let myself believe that Astrid was not who they were looking for. I had never been able to read Astrid’s thoughts, and perhaps that meant good things. But now, with the reality of what I had just seen, I could no longer delude myself.

  Astrid could be the chosen one.

  Fear welled up in my heart.

  It was a dark time for me as I struggled to find strength and hope amidst the confusion of war. I tried to believe that Astrid would be safe and Ian would come home to me. But alone in bed at night I gave way to wrenching sobs.

  45

  Christina

  I’d had visions my entire childhood. I told Bette about them often when I was little, but she’d always told me I was being foolish and I was letting that wild imagination of mine run away with me. I desperately wanted to believe her. The final nail in the coffin came when Mama passed away. I was devastated, a piece of me died that awful day too. I decided Bette was right. It was time to put childish fantasies behind me and grow up. I shut out the visions, and slowly they faded away. For me, the magic was over. It was the way I liked it, the magic had always frightened me.

  Magic attracted the wicked.

  I knew that Margaret had the unexplained inside her too. She tried to hide it from me. But I could tell something was different about my eldest daughter. A mother’s intuition I supposed. I sensed when she infiltrated my mind and read my thoughts. It was as if alarm bells went off and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. She was a good daughter. She had tried to protect me by not letting the cat out of the bag about her magical world. She was independent and strong, but it still didn’t stop me from worrying.

  I’d been so afraid I’d swept it all under the rug, pretended we were a normal family. That’s all I ever wanted. But the night after Ian had left for the war I tiptoed upstairs to kiss baby Astrid goodnight and found that beautiful child levitating.

  I stood in the doorway paralyzed with fear. The curse of this family had claimed another victim.

  For a moment, I was unsure what to do I was obsessed by my own emotions. My stomach contracted.

  Margaret didn’t know yet. I was the first to discover that her child held the magic too. I decided to keep silent about the matter; Margaret would find out soon enough. She liked to protect me and it would be best if she didn’t hear this coming from my mouth.

  I thought back to the conversation I’d accidently overheard between Ian and Margaret. It wasn’t long after Bette’s passing; I hadn’t been able to sleep so I’d slipped down to the kitchen for some warm milk. I was about to enter the room when I saw them seated at the kitchen table. I stopped and listened. They were discussing Bette, talking about the evil that had killed her.

  My heart had pounded in my chest, knowing that Bette’s death was no heart attack. It was my worst fear realized.

  Margaret went on to say something about an amulet, but I’d heard enough. I didn’t want to know about our old Greek family. I’d turned and retreated to the safety of my room. I knelt down by the bed and prayed to Jesus that Bette’s soul had found peace. It was the Christian thing to do. I’d known the evil was coming. Even as a young child I’d understood the vileness of this evil. That’s why I had been so eager to block any magic.

  I wanted no part of it.

  In my weakness I’d buried my head in the sand and prayed for it to be over.

  46

  Margaret

  It was four long years before Ian returned home. I thought of the day he’d left, of the burning pain in my heart. So much had happened in the intervening years. But now here we were ready to welcome him back. Mama and I had cleaned the house from top to bottom. We’d made his favorite carrot cake with vanilla frosting. But no matter how busy I kept I couldn’t still my anxious mind. Would he be different? How would Astrid react to a father who was virtually a stranger? She was little more than a baby when he’d left. Now she was a young girl, nearly seven years old. She’d read every one of his letters and I knew she was trying to piece together an image of her Daddy. How would she feel when she saw him face to face?

  I hadn’t mentioned anything in my letters to Ian about Astrid’s levitation. It would’ve only worried him, and that was the last thing I wanted. He needed to stay alive.

  I stood at the train station. Family and friends of our homebound soldiers crowded onto the platform. I watched with anticipation as the train rounded the bend. I swallowed the lump in my throat. As the men came pouring off the train I scanned the crowd looking for the man I loved.

  Then we locked eyes.

  Even from a distance I could see the changes in him. His brown hair now held streaks of silver and there was a thinness to his face that hadn’t been there before. I’m not sure what happened after that. Everything became a blur as people surged forward, eager to be reunited with their loved ones. I felt Ian’s strong arms around me as he lifted me off my feet. I dug my fingers into the rough wool fabric of his service coat, inhaling his familiar scent.

  “Oh my God Margaret, I’m finally here. You don’t know how many times I imagined this moment, holding you in my arms just like this.” Slowly he reached down to touch my face as if to reassure himself it wasn’t a dream.

  “I love you so much,” he said, tears in his eyes.

  “I love you too,” I whispered. And then he lowered his head and kissed me. The familiar feeling of his lips on mine, the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, it all filled me with joy. No one would ever love me like Ian did. No one ever could.

  All m
y doubts faded away. Every worry rode away from me on the ocean of emotion. I had counted down each day longing for this moment. For a split second time stood motionless, then somehow we were able to let go of each other. My heart was still pulsating so hard it was making me dizzy.

  Pulling back I looked into his eyes. “I knew you would come back to me,” I said.

  Ian smiled, and with his fingers wiped away the tears that ran freely down my cheeks. “Come on Margaret, let’s go home. I can’t wait to see Astrid.” His blue-green eyes clouded for a moment. “She probably doesn’t even remember me.”

  I took his hand and led him across the platform. “She is as excited as you are, maybe more so. She’s read and re-read all your letters a thousand times. Don’t worry Ian; we’ll have all the time in the world to catch up.”

  I drove us home. I let Ian gather his thoughts for a while and then just before we reached the beach, pulled the car over to the side of the road.

  Ian looked up, surprised. “Why are we stopping Margaret, is there something wrong?”

  I placed my hand on his, “No, no there’s nothing wrong exactly…” I trailed off. How on earth would I explain to him that his daughter was levitating? I took a deep breath and continued, “It’s about Astrid,” I began gently.

  “Astrid? Is she alright? She’s not sick is she?” His voice was filled with concern.

  “No she’s not sick, but we do have a slight problem.”

  “What sort of problem?” he said staring at my flushed face, puzzled.

  “There’s no need to panic,” I said hastily, “It’s not a problem exactly, well at least not yet.” I took a deep breath and plunged on. “Ian she’s been levitating—when she sleeps, plays with her toys, or even reading a book. Mama and I have been homeschooling her. We didn’t know what else to do. She has no control over it.” I choked back tears.

  “I’m not panicking Margaret, but you should have told me. How long have you known?” his voice was low and controlled, but I could see the hurt and anger in his eyes.

  “It started not long after you left, just after her third birthday. I couldn’t tell you in a letter, I didn’t want you to worry,” I stammered.

  There was a brief silence in the car, finally he spoke. “Is Astrid the Soul of the Sun?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  He took my hand. “I’m sorry I got upset, it just came as a bit of a shock.”

  “For me too,” I said smiling sadly.

  Ian released his breath. “If she is the one they’re looking for, then her life is in grave danger.”

  Ian pulled me close to him and kissed my forehead. “It’s all right Margaret, we will face this together. I’m home now and I won’t let anything happen to Astrid.”

  I prayed that he could keep his promise.

  47

  In the days that followed, our lives turned into a happy routine. Astrid and her Daddy quickly formed a strong bond, becoming as thick as thieves. They would gang up together and tease me about my need to squirrel myself away and write. Several of my books were published and doing well and it seemed like I was finally getting everything I ever wanted. I took their teasing with good humor. I knew they were proud of my achievements. The war had become a distant memory for all of us.

  It was also the time when Astrid began her peak levitation period. It had reached the point where she spent more time in the air than on the ground. Just concentrating on something set her off.

  Ian doted on Astrid, and never once made her feel she was different; he acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be floating a foot below the ceiling. It made me fall even more deeply in love with him. Over the years we’d tried to conceive a brother or sister for her, but it hadn’t happened, and for us that just made Astrid even more special. The love between Ian and I never faded. If anything, it grew stronger. I still listened in to his ponderings, often catching his hand in mine just to see how he was feeling. I couldn’t help it and he seemed resigned to it. It had let me know he was happy. He used to tease me about eavesdropping on his thoughts. But behind the teasing and the laughter, we both felt his underlying concerns for Astrid. I understood his fear. Aunt Bette’s words in her final moments were always playing like a record in the back of my mind.

  But then one day, the levitating stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and Astrid herself was relieved. At ten, for the first time in her life, she could attend school with the other children, without having to worry every minute about launching into space.

  Mama was just as pleased. Seeing her levitating granddaughter every day was a reminder to her that we were not the run of the mill family she hoped for us to be. So to her, this was an answer to prayer.

  Mama had begun to slowly open up to me about the skeletons in our family closet. I was surprised. Maybe she hadn’t known as much as Aunt Bette, but she knew enough about our Greek family to distinguish we were special.

  Though Mama was slowly coming to accept our strange family, I respected Mama enough not to tell her anything about Aunt Bette, and all I’d been through.

  I knew she still pushed many things to the back of her mind, so it wasn’t wise to force anything. I recognized in her thoughts how many fears she carried around. So we all moved forward, believing Astrid’s levitation was gone for good.

  Our relief was immense. I had even started to lose the feeling I was being watched. The sense of urgency slowly dissipated. Perhaps the evil had finally realized they had followed the wrong bloodline.

  I was naïve enough to hope.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that Astrid was being watched. It would not be until my death many years later that I would learn this.

  The evil had never left.

  We were far from safe.

  48

  Emma Diamond, Folly Beach May 2006

  Tears trickled down my face.

  Granna patted my hand. “All magic has consequences, Emma. The fact is, certain fates aren’t meant to be changed.”

  Her statement only made me cry harder. Mr. Beasley had survived the car collision only to lose his life three days later.

  “Why did he have to go eat the neighbor’s rat poison after I worked so hard to save him? What was the point of healing him if it didn’t serve any purpose, Granna? Why was he able to live only three more days? It’s all so unfair.”

  Granna had no answers. “There, there child,” she hugged me tightly to her as I wept. “What God wants will always be, Emma. In the end it is always His decision and we must accept it. But remember, he is a part of you. The magic that flows through you is a part of us all. We are all one. But everyone has their own path to follow. We can’t always change or alter the journey of others. The universe knows best. It will take care of Mr. Beasley until you can be together again. Destiny is destiny. If he was meant to live longer, he would have,” she said as she pushed a damp tendril of hair away from my face.

  “Oh Granna, I don’t care what’s meant to be! I just want him back. It hurts so much. I finally felt like I had saved someone.” I shuddered as tears wracked my body.

  Granna rocked me back and forth as she used to when I was little. I felt her own hot tears spill down on my head. There we sat in the fading dusk; two sad figures watching the ocean surf as it lapped in gentle waves over the sandy shore. We stayed there, silent, until the sun sank below the horizon leaving only the velvety night sky.

  “Come Emma love, I’ll make some tea.”

  I shivered despite the warm wind that swept off the water. We rose forlornly and returned to the house.

  49

  The Watcher, April 1987

  Charles Diamond’s face twisted in anguish as he looked down at the pink slip of paper that he held tightly in his hand. His tall thin form slouched over the small metal desk, circles shadowed his eyes. His short, chestnut-colored hair usually perfectly combed, was mussed and spiked. I floated over his shoulder and read the note. It was a notice of termination, effective immediately. I watc
hed as he crumpled the pink paper into a tight ball and threw it into the trashcan.

  A smile spread across my face. Sorrow was delicious.

  I closed my eyes and allowed myself to connect with his energy. I wanted to know the full story. I moved over his mind, tapping lightly into his thoughts. It appeared the dear, poor devil had taught at the school for the last ten years. They gave the usual brainless excuses, budget cuts, nothing could be done. The arts program was to be eliminated—and that included his music classes. Blah. Blah. Blah.

  Through watching Astrid, I had learned Charles Diamond lived for his music. As a child he’d dreamed of becoming a concert pianist, but after college in New York City he’d found his hopes of making a living at it quickly dissolving. He’d been unable to procure any kind of permanent employment. There had been gigs here and there, but more often than not he found himself hungry and cold. He finally returned to Charleston and managed to secure a job at the local high school teaching music. He’d come to enjoy his work, and felt a genuine affection for the kids he taught. It was the usual mundane human existence.

  It was while at the school he had met Astrid. She taught high school English and they’d quickly fallen in love over coffee breaks and school functions. It was sickeningly sweet. I almost vomited when Charles had told Astrid he loved her. He had written her a song; complete drivel. She deserved much better than this imbecile.

  It was appropriate; here in the place Charles Diamond treasured, I would take his body. It was the perfect opportunity for me to feed off his weak energy and enhance my strength.

  It was important I be close to Astrid. Inhabiting Charles was the best way to achieve that. It was essential that I find out if the magic had returned. I had to know for sure if she was the chosen one. You see, Astrid was my child, and because of that I was blocked, unable to reach inside her thoughts. Our connection served as a barrier between us. I was in a sense, a doctor that could not operate on his own daughter. It was a law I could not override. Her mind was an impenetrable fortress.

 

‹ Prev