by R. M. Walker
“You aren’t under compulsion to read it,” Jonas said, putting his mug onto the coffee table. “It will make little difference to your future.”
“This is all so...” She stopped, swallowing. “I know this is real. I just don’t know how to handle it,” she whispered.
“You’re going to be fine,” Nate said, sliding his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s overwhelming. You’re telling me witches and fairies are real, and then I see you do stuff that defies physics. I believe it, but it still scares me. Especially when you tell me that I’m not epileptic but some sort of a—” She stopped abruptly, unable to even say it.
“Seer,” Jonas said. “You’re right, Lily. This is a lot for you to handle. You’re also quite rare. I don’t know of another living Seer. In the old days, there was always more than one, either a grandmother and granddaughter or a father and son. There was always someone to guide the next, someone to teach the craft, how to control visions, how to understand them, and how to use them. There’s no one left in your line, is there? Not that you know about?”
“No, my father is dead. My mum had a sister, but she died before I can remember. I never knew my grandparents. Mum is clueless to it all.”
“What about your father’s side?” Jonas asked. “What was he called?”
“William Adair, but I don’t know much about him, Mum finds it hard to talk about him. But I don’t think he had any family, or none that Mum has kept in contact with.”
“Well, when you’re ready, that book will give you all the answers to your bloodline. In the meantime, I can help you box the visions so they don’t knock you out when they happen. I can help you focus and recognise the signs.”
“What are they for?” she asked him. “I mean, at Matt’s I saw two kids drowning at the mill. What good is that? It happened too long ago for me to do anything about it.”
“You picked up on the residual pain and fear in the area, I expect,” he said, fingers steepled under his chin. “I think you saw what happened because the horror of such tragic events would linger there as negative energy. Some of your visions will be about things that have already come to pass, others will be about things yet to happen. And sometimes what has come to pass has a direct bearing on what is yet to come. Traditionally, in medieval times and until the witch trials really got going in Britain, Seers were under the protection of the nobles, kings and men of power. The word protection used loosely here. They were used to foresee the future and help their masters with winning battles and financial alliances. They would see what might happen, then their masters would use that information to alter their own outcomes.”
“What do you mean might happen?” she asked. “If it wasn’t going to happen, but was only a might, what good was that?”
“Visions don’t always take a clear shape. Past things will be clear, as you’ve experienced, but the future? The future is unwritten. You will see certain things, but it might not be clear what it means. For example, you might see a car crash, but you might not see who was involved or where it would happen. Your visions won’t be restricted to people you know either. I can teach you to channel your visions as well through palm reading, card reading, tea leaves. You’ll be able to use them all with your gift.”
“It all sounds pretty useless,” she said.
“These days? Probably,” he agreed. “But if you ever see a series of numbers, let me know, and we’ll do the lottery with them.” He smiled, and she realised he was trying to joke with her. She tried to smile back but ended up wincing.
“It all seems so...”
“Bizarre?” he asked gently. “I’m not surprised. You’ve been thrown in at the deep end, and you’re struggling to keep your head above water, aren’t you? You’re not alone though, Lily, not now. We’ll keep you from going under, I promise.”
She smiled at him properly. She didn’t fully trust him yet, but he hadn’t been the frightening ogre she remembered him to be. He’d made no move to hurt her again, just help so far.
“How do you know so much?” she asked, taking her coffee from the table.
“It’s all out there, it just needs to be found,” he said, waving his hand to indicate all the books in the room. “I’ve spent the last thirty-five years researching this. I was seven when my powers kicked in. I was lucky enough to have a grandfather who remembered his own father’s abilities. He told me all he knew, and I researched the rest, travelled to many places around the world and learnt everything I could. I have books in here on every cultural magic. You are welcome to read any of them. I only ask that you read them here. None of them can leave the house because of what they contain.”
“Thank you,” she said, awed at the vast array of books he had.
“Lily, there is something you need to know,” he said, catching her attention. “Something very important.” His voice was a low rumble. “What you learn here, what you see us do, what you learn to do, you can never tell anyone else,” he spoke each word clearly and slowly.
“I don’t think I’d be believed,” she said. “I’d probably be sectioned faster than you can blink.”
“A lot of people would no doubt think you were mad,” he agreed. “But there are others out there, fae and regular people, that aren’t so good. Not everyone is good in everyday society, and the same is true of fae and witches. There are good ones, and there are bad ones. Our powers”—he indicated himself, Nate, and the twins—“although we still hide them, are not so attractive. Matt’s ability to heal, however, is a rare power, and if he was discovered by the wrong people, he would be in great danger. Your power’s even rarer. With all that you will be able to see and do, if you were discovered by the wrong people, you’d also be in great danger.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” she said. “I have no one to tell.”
“Not even your mother,” warned Jonas. “She can’t know about fae or witch bloodlines in your family, or she’d have recognised your seizures for what they are and not epilepsy.”
“I understand,” she told him quietly.
“Excellent. Well, I think that’s enough heavy stuff for today,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “Who’s hungry?”
“When aren’t we hungry?” Jake snorted.
“Even better then. Off you go boys, make us all something to eat. Lily, do you play Scrabble?”
She was taken aback by his sudden change of subject. He was sitting forwards on his chair, his clasped hands resting on his knees as he looked at her expectantly.
“Yes, I play Scrabble,” she replied. “I could help them with cooking,” she added when they all got up, including Nate.
“You could, but my kitchen is small. They know their way around too well for help,” Jonas said. “Relax, I don’t bite. Mysty, my cat, might, but I don’t.” He pulled the coffee table between him and the other chair that faced the fireplace. He didn’t seem to do anything, or say anything, but suddenly there was a Scrabble board on the coffee table and a bag of letter tiles.
“You’ll be fine,” Nate murmured into her ear. “We’re in the kitchen. We’ll keep coming in, okay? But he won’t hurt you, I promise.” He dropped a kiss on her head as Jonas started to set up the board on the coffee table.
The twins winked at her before leaving the room, but they left the door wide open. Lily resisted the urge to run after them, but only just.
“How did you do that?” she asked, making no move to change seats yet.
“What? The board?” He turned his head to smile at her.
“Yes, I thought you were a fire fae, like Nate.”
“I am,” he said and counted out seven tiles from the bag. “But I’m also a fairy, or fae, if we don’t want to upset sensitive Nate.”
“I heard that!” came a shout from the kitchen, making Jonas laugh.
Hearing Nate and realising they were able to hear everything relaxed her enough to let her cross to sit opposite him.
He m
ade no comment, just handed her the letter bag and started to arrange the tiles on his rack. She took seven tiles from the bag. A feeling of surrealism settled over her as she sorted through them, looking for a word.
“All fairies have basic magic as well as whatever their particular power is,” he said, and she looked up at him.
“I still think you should have wings and be able to fly,” she said. “How cool would that be?” She heard a snort from the kitchen, but she ignored it.
“Very cool,” Jonas agreed. “Only air fairies seem to fly, but it’s not true flight. They just control the air around them enough to move through it without having to touch ground. But they can only do that for a short period of time. Of all the different powers, I think that one must be the most frustrating. So close, but so far.”
“So, there’s animal fae, like Josh and Jake, healer ones like Matt, and fire ones like you and Nate. What other abilities are there?”
“Well, there’s fairies for every element. So, water fairies, air fairies, fire fairies, and earth fairies.”
“You said some fae were bad, are they like dark fairies? I mean, are we talking Maleficent evil?”
“You do think in terms of literature, don’t you?” He grinned at her and indicated for her to go first. She swapped out a tile, not able to make a word from her letters.
“I’m not sure what else to compare it to.” She frowned.
“Don’t try and compare it,” he said and placed storms on the board so that the word was facing her. “Try to be open-minded.”
“I think if I get any more open-minded over this, my brain is going to fall out.”
He snorted with laughter through his nose and indicated her tiles. “Anything?”
She put down the only word she could make. She used his letter s and spelt the word trust. She took more letters and re-arranged them on her rack. He spelt out confused on the s, using all seven letters.
“You’re going to win,” she laughed. “It’s easy to see who the teacher is.”
“I don’t play to count, I just love to play. And those morons can’t play for toffee. I once had the twins spend ten minutes trying to convince me bacon was spelt with a k in Cornwall,” he snorted, shaking his head.
“The twins cheat.” She laughed.
“They all do,” he corrected her, and smiled.
“We also heard that!” Josh shouted, making Lily grin wider.
“I don’t care!” Jonas shouted back.
She shot him a grin and picked up her tiles, feeling more at ease with him. “I’ll see your confused and raise you a fester.”
“I’m going to enjoy playing Scrabble with you, Lily.”
For several minutes they played silently, Lily absorbed in finding words amongst the tiles on her rack that would fit on the board and not block them in.
“Do you play often?” he asked after a while.
“No, my mum hates it.”
“Do you play chess?” he asked, and she heard the hope in his voice.
She shrugged. “I can play, but not well. I don’t have the ability to think three moves in advance.”
“Ah, more of a ‘here and now’ type girl,” he said with a chuckle. “Well, you’ll fit in with that lot out there then.” She wasn’t sure if that was a complaint about them or not, so she ignored it.
“They said you’ve known them for years,” she said, placing the word them on the t of trust.
“He had the joy of teaching us in first year primary,” Matt said, coming through the door. “Lily, do you like olives?”
“What are you doing with olives?” Jonas asked, lifting an eyebrow at Matt.
“Nate’s found your feta cheese and wants to do a side salad,” he said, and Jonas rolled his eyes.
“Yes, I like olives,” Lily said. Matt winked at her and went out again.
“Leave me something in there!” Jonas shouted after him.
“Maybe it’s best if we leave you in peace,” she said uncertainly. “You were busy when we came in. We can go and get a takeaway.”
He grinned and lifted his fingers to his lips in a ‘shh’ sign. “I don’t have a problem letting them cook here or eating dinner with you all. I’ve grown used to them dropping in, day or night, and eating me out of house and home. I like to wind them up; it’s fun,” he whispered.
“What about the classwork you were working on?”
“I’ll do it later,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “Stop worrying. There are no more tiles left,” he said.
She slid her last d in front of an o to make the word do.
“My last tiles,” he said making the word not. “We’ve finished the whole bag. Well done.”
Her eyes followed his fingers as he put the tiles down and drew a breath in sharply. She could see it clearly, spelt out around the first word that he had put down.
Do not trust them.
“Lily?”
She looked up at him. It was a game, just a stupid game. It was coincidence, nothing more. She swallowed, trying to dislodge the feelings of uncertainty and fear.
“Lily! Talk to me. What is it? Something has happened, I can tell. Do you feel odd? Like before a seizure?”
“I don’t get any warnings,” she whispered.
“You’re white as a sheet,” he said. He made no move to lean closer or touch her.
She wanted to wish it away, wanted to blink and have it change. It was only words. Random words in a game. It was coincidence.
Except with everything else that had happened to her, she wasn’t so sure. And it was the words, the exact same words, that she had heard before. She just couldn’t remember where she’d heard it or who had said it.
A commotion at the door had her looking over quickly. Any other time, it would have been comical to see the four of them trying to get through the door at the same time. But she was too scared to see anything funny about the situation. She looked back at the board, and all she could see were the four words.
“What’s up?” Nate demanded.
She pointed at the board and got up. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the board as she could. She wanted him to say it was ridiculous, that it was just a game.
“Shit,” Matt muttered, and her heart sank.
“It’s just a game, right? Random words, it’s not a... a... Ouija board or anything like that! It’s just Scrabble!” she said desperately.
Jonas got up and came around to look at it the right way up.
“What does it mean?” Josh demanded.
Jake moved to take her hand in his, and she clung to him gratefully.
“It’s only chance, right?” Lily mumbled. Tears filled her eyes. She knew she could trust them. She knew that out of everything that had happened, she could trust them. So why did those words strike a chord in her? Why did she feel as if it was important? Like a warning she had to listen to. She hated this. She hated it all. She just wanted to be normal.
“Of course, it’s just chance,” Nate said, and for once his usual confidence wasn’t there. He looked poleaxed, a little desperate even.
“I don’t think we need to worry too much about why it happened,” Jonas said, and Lily sighed. He was going to tell them it was a random chance thing. “But more what the tiles spell out.”
The bottom fell out of her stomach as his words sank in.
“What do you mean by that?” Nate demanded.
“It could be chance,” Jonas said. “But it doesn’t feel like it. Has anything odd happened to you outside of your”—he hesitated slightly—“let’s keep calling them seizures for now.”
It seemed like her whole life was odd. Which type of odd did he mean?
“There have been some things,” Josh said and scratched the back of his head. “You grew the flowers in the circle. Something was up when you hugged our tree, and that vision you had of burning this morning. Not normal occurrences, even by our standards.”
His urgency fanned the panic in Lily, and she gave a startled cry, backing up sharply from him. Matt immediately pulled her into him and stroked her back.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Jonas held up his hands to her again. “You surprised me. Tell me what happened in the circle.”
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I just felt... good.”
“She stepped into the circle, and it was like the sun was shining right on her. She started to spin. Her hair sort of poofed out like on those hair shampoo adverts?” Jake said, and Jonas nodded in understanding.
“She kicked off her shoes, and suddenly all these flowers grew up around her,” Josh added.
“How long did they stay there?” Jonas asked.
Nate slipped his hand into her free one, and she held on tightly, taking the support he offered.
“When she denied it was her, they disappeared,” Jake answered him.
Jonas twisted his lips from side to side in thought. “And the tree?”
“We took Lily to see our treehouse,” Matt said. “She couldn’t see the steps until we lowered the magic around it. But when she touched it—”
“Touched the tree?” Jonas looked at Lily. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“I heard whispers, like singing, and I just knew it was the trees. I could feel the magic, feel how old the woods were. But the singing changed,” she whispered, closing her eyes, wanting so badly to deny it but knowing she couldn’t. She was torn between the two states, and it was making her heartsick.
“How did it change?” Jonas’s voice was a low rumble filled with gentleness.
“I don’t know. I thought it was dying at first, the tree was dying, but it wasn’t. It was warning me of something—” she broke off, floundering in the implications of what she was going to say next.
“What was it warning you of?” Jonas asked quietly.
“It was warning me that there was danger.” She took a deep breath and focused on Jonas. “There was danger, and it was right behind me.”
