by A. R. Miller
I grimace, sliding off the counter and follow her.
“Sorry about that,” I say, my fingers moving over her head as fast as they can. Nyssa joins us, taking on the other side. “The last thing I want is to make my one and only client late, especially one who saved my butt earlier.”
She grins. “Do you know how hard it is to find a good hairstylist?”
I grin back. “Nope, but I still appreciate you not jumping ship on me.” I work my hands through her now freed tresses and grab the spray. Both of us hold our breath as I put the finishing touches on her now glamorous mane. “Want me to do your make up and save you some time?”
“No, I’ll be fine. They can’t start the show without me.” She winks, tossing a tip onto the vanity before sauntering off to the front desk.
Tossing my cape onto the chair, I put my comb into the sanitizer before looking at the tip. Holy crap. I was used to a ten, sometimes a twenty when I’d done something more than the usual. I think she missed a zero tonight, in my favor. Grabbing the hundred, I scurried up front, but she’d already driven away.
Nyssa giggled from behind the desk. “She wondered how long it would take you to notice.”
“She told you about this?” I ask, waving the bill in the air.
Nyssa nods, still laughing.
“Looks like supper is on Lorelei tonight.”
“I’ll call in an order and pick it up if you find out what the others want. Unless you want to surprise them with pizzas,” she says, already looking up the number for Basement Brews.
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get Rey to help you.”
***
Over pizza and beer, I try to explain what happened with Royd. His cryptic words confuse the others as much as they did me. Except for Dara. Somehow I get the feeling she knows more than she’s sharing. It’s probably going to take divine intervention to get her to spill. I decide to save the First Arrow stuff for a more private conversation. By the end of our meal, everyone is in agreement that first thing tomorrow I call The Sisters and attempt to get them to explain. It’s also agreed that they probably won’t give a straight answer. Such is my life as of late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Knew this day would come. Inevitable. Hid you as long as possible. Protect you, we cannot.”
Three voices in unison. The Sisters must be using the speakerphone I got them. If the surround sound effect isn’t bad enough, they’re stuck in fantasy land mode and I fear at any moment I’ll be called my precious. No matter what Royd thinks, I’ll never get a clear answer from the triplets. Knowingly, or not, they’ve mastered the art of confusion. I didn’t even have to say anything when they picked up, they just started talking. They probably knew I was going to call before I did.
“Protect me from what?” Futile I know, but got to try.
“Destiny.”
“And what might that destiny be?”
“You will know when the time is right. Many choices you will have to make. Choose carefully.”
“So you can’t, or won’t tell me?”
“To tell would do no good, only harm. You must discover alone. Help you, we cannot.”
“But I need your help. He said I was supposed to ask you.”
“Of whom do you speak?”
“Var Royd. He said you should answer my questions.”
The hissing I hear is obviously not from the phone as it fades to whispers I can’t decipher. I think I hear words like dangerous, destruction and death, three d’s I don’t want to hear. Especially together.
“How do you know that name? Stay away from him.”
“Trust me, it’s not like I’m purposely trying to make friends with him. He seems to be taking a rather personal interest in me lately.” I’m not about to tell them he owns the note on my business, that would probably send them over the edge. “He calls me mein Schattenkind. What does it mean?”
“A mistake was made in the past, but the sun burned away the shadows. Law was ignored in the present and history threatens to repeat. Protections placed are waning and the Shadow King presses against The Veil. Future’s outcome is unknown.”
Crapnar. Sun beats shadows, yeah. Mistakes in the past, laws broken, history repeats and the future is unknown. That tells me so much. How the hel does this apply to me?
“Stay away from the Sun King. His Shield will protect and his Sword will cut, yet loyalty wavers.”
Sun King? Shield? Sword? Great, more stupid clues to nowhere.
“What does Schattenkind mean?”
“Shadow child.”
Sun burned away shadow. My stomach begins to do loop–de–loops and a nasty, burning flavor hits the back of my throat. If he’s the sun, I must be the shadow. Schattenkind. Wait, Shadow King? Einen? If I’m the mistake of the present, is he the mistake of the past?
“Keely, dearest, I’m glad you called. We’ve been so worried about you with all this Collector business.” Master Yoda times three disappears as my grandmother Matilda’s voice takes the lead, yanking me from thought.
It’ll do no good to question her about our conversation. I don’t know if they truly don’t remember what happens when they go into prophecy mode, or if it’s just an act. They claim ignorance and I’ve never been able to prove otherwise.
Nervous pacing ends as I reach the living room, lowing myself onto the couch next to Nyssa.
“She knows we worry about her, you don’t have to tell her,” says Eliza. “And don’t coddle her, she’s a grown woman.”
“She’s not coddling her,” chimes in Nicolina.
“Hi, Aunt Liza, Aunt Lina. I’m fine Grandma. Everything is fine, nothing to worry about.”
“Why did you call?” asks Eliza, always the blunt one.
“She called to chat. Didn’t you, dearest?” says Matilda.
“Of course she did, she loves her grandmother and great aunts.” I can almost hear the smile on Nicolina’s face.
“Yes, I love you all and miss you, but I did call to ask you something.” Here goes nothing. Maybe they will stay with me long enough to give me some sort of clue as to what their earlier words meant. “Do you know a Var Royd?”
Silence, deafening silence. If I’d heard three thumps, I’d at least know I gave them heart attacks. The silence stretches on. Either they know something, or they’re flipping back to prophecy mode.
Eliza finally breaks the stillness. “Stay away from that man. Do you hear me Keelina Monday Fey?”
Matilda and Nicolina echo her sentiment and I wince as Eliza practically yells my full name.
“Yes, Aunt Liza, I hear you.” My entourage snickers. This is why I didn’t want an audience. Amped up animal hearing sucks. Luckily, I’d been out of the room for the important stuff. I hope Eliza doesn’t start using embarrassing childhood stories as life lessons with them listening.
“That man is nothing, but trouble.”
“Yes, Aunt Liza. I wouldn’t worry about it. He probably just wants to sell me insurance.” I look at the others and roll my eyes.
“This call doesn’t have anything to do with that Collector business, does it?”
“No, I just called to check on you three and now that I know you’re all fine I better get going. I have some cleaning to do.”
There is no way I’m going to mention getting hauled in by NTF, my wicked bad dreams, or the incident with the plant. I didn’t tell the others and I don’t think I will, at least not yet. In person, I would never get away with lying, but over the phone I stand a chance.
“Take care, dearest,” all three say in unison.
“Goodbye Grandma, Aunt Liza, Aunt Lina. Love you all. Take care.” I hang up before they can add, or question anything else.
Flopping back against the couch, I look at the others. “Well, that was fun.”
“So your middle name is Monday?” Rey laughs. His knee–length braid, dangling over the edge of the chair, sweeping back and forth across the floor in front of C.C. “Monday’s child is—”
“I’d take Monday over Wednesday any day. Who would want to be cursed with woe?”
“Better be careful. If he catches that, it’s going to hurt,” I say, nodding at C.C., hoping to change the subject. The last thing I want to discuss is my middle name, supposedly given by my parents. I don’t resent them leaving, not much anyway. I’d just like to know why.
“No worse than Nys pulling while she braided it.” He sways his head, making the cat skitter across the floor. A pleasant, harmless distraction to watch after everything else that’s happened.
“So, what did the German mean?” asks Nyssa, joining in the hair versus cat game by wiggling the braid in front of his nose then holding it just out of reach. C.C. sits up on his haunches, batting at it. He loves the challenge almost as much as the attention.
“My shadow child.”
“Huh, wonder why Royd keeps calling you that.” Rey shifts in the chair when Nyssa pulls a little harder than intended, or maybe it wasn’t an accident. Her smile reminds me of the little sister of an old high school friend when she used to torment us.
“Good question.” If they didn’t hear it, I’m not about to repeat the little sun destroys shadow bit.
“Maybe it has something to do with your coloring,” he says. “You are kinda grey. Not that that’s bad, just unusual.”
“Yeah, I know, usually reserved for the dead.”
“That’s not what I meant. Not everyone can pull it off—it looks good on you.”
I can’t help grinning as he flusters along. Laying my head back against the couch, I sigh and close my eyes. “I’m not any closer to answers than I was before. The only people who can fill me in aren’t willing to do so.”
“Could be they aren’t able to.” He shifts again as Nyssa and C.C. begin a game of tug of war. “I know The Sisters have that whole fortune cookie Talent, but sometimes with destiny and prophecy stuff those in the know are restricted from saying anything that might change it. Not much consolation, but that’s the way it works.”
“Well, it sucks when you’re in the middle of it.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and twirl my thumbs. “You guys ever wonder about the stuff Dara doesn’t tell us?”
“Like the vamp stuff?” asks Nyssa, dropping Rey’s braid when C.C. grows tired of the game and wanders off.
“No, I mean her personally.”
“We all have our secret pasts we don’t like to talk about. Doesn’t mean it has anything to do with what’s going on with you.” She sits down next to me.
“Royd purposely mentioned her having ulterior motives in our friendship.”
“I still say he’s not to be trusted,” says Rey and with that, the subject is dropped like a hot potato. He swings around sitting upright in the chair.
“So girls, what’s on the agenda for tonight? Probably not a good idea to go to the club, unless we want to be clubbed.”
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny. You’re the one they would probably club, that is after they have a royal hunt.” Nyssa giggles.
He makes a noise of disgust and rolls his eyes. “They don’t club the fox, they shoot it.”
“Either way it ends bad for you.” She tosses one of the pillows from the couch at him.
He tosses the pillow back. “What do you suggest we do, my little water lily?”
“How about chick flick night?”
We both groan, neither a fan of the genre.
“Hey, at least they have happy endings and no one dies.”
“Beg to differ,” Rey says and holds up his hand, ticking off movies where someone ends up with a horrible disease and dies, or sacrifices themselves to save another. Nyssa’s pouty lip growing with each down-turned finger.
“It’s decided, no chick flicks.”
“Hey, what about Dara’s vote?”
“Like she would ever voluntarily watch a chick flick. Jenny would be a better bet.”
“That reminds me, any news about Jenny?” I ask, reeled back into the conversation.
They shake their heads.
“I’m worried about that girl.”
“Maybe she went back to Nebraska.” Nyssa hugs the pillow Rey tossed at her, during their little chick flick discussion.
“It’s not like she has any magical Talents The Collector would be interested in.”
“No, but there are plenty of other predators out there,” I say, reminded of the guy I’d seen her with.
The warm June day suddenly feels like January, their conversation churning up all kinds of images. Including, but not limited to, the night I saw her in the coffee shop. I haven’t told them about that little scene, bad enough they know about me seeing her before I discovered the missing bag.
“So what’s it going to be horror, or action? We could go sci–fi if anyone is feeling a little spacey.” He tosses another pillow at Nyssa.
Thank the gods for Rey and his ability to flip the subject, and Nyssa’s short attention span. My own attention still focused on my absent receptionist. Something tells me she’s a missing piece in the puzzle encompassing my life. A puzzle made up of mistakes, broken laws, kings and repeating history.
If Einen is the shadow of the past, will I be the shadow burned away in the present?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Surprise, surprise, I’m left behind as the other two go pick out our entertainment for the night. When I offer to buy pizza again Rey stoically tells me to fix nachos, he’s tired of pizza. Before I can protest, they scoot out the door. I can still hear their laughter as they practically run down the hall.
Nachos, how in hel am I supposed to pull that off? Guess making nachos out of nothing will keep my mind off shadows and sunlight. A shiver runs down my spine and my tummy does that nice flipity–flop again. Enough, I need to stop thinking about it at least for the moment.
Opening the fridge for a soda, I find it practically overflowing. The first cupboard I can reach is full and so are the others. My keepers have been busy. This place doesn’t resemble my kitchen and by that, I mean it has food. Besides things like cereal, instant potatoes and frozen stuff to pop in the oven, or microwave, my kitchen is usually pretty bare. This is like a...well, a normal kitchen.
Humming the Twilight Zone theme, I gather hamburger, veggies and cheese. “They want nachos, they get nachos.”
Several layers of meat and cheese later, my nachos resemble more of a casserole than your typical munchies. Bowls of chopped lettuce and homemade pico de gallo wait on the counter. I’d even gone all out and filled little dishes with salsa and sour cream. This was going to be one fancy movie night at casa de Fey.
The cat, so thoughtfully winding himself around my ankles, takes off with a stream of indecipherable screeching for the door. Either Dara has decided to join us, or my grocery fairies are back. Obviously Dara, when the door opens and I’m not overwhelmed with chattering. Shoving the nachos in the oven I head to the living room, finding C.C. curled up on her lap as she lounges in Rey’s vacated chair.
“What did The Sisters reveal?”
“Nada, as usual.” I sit down, her raised eyebrow a hint that I’m supposed to elaborate. “A bunch of mangled crap about my destiny and that they hid me as long as possible.”
“Any hint as to what this destiny is?”
I shake my head, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Nope, can’t tell me because it will do more harm than good. I’ll find out when the time is right and I’ll have choices to make. Like I said, mangled thoughts, no answers, not even a hint.”
No, I’m not about to divulge everything. She hasn’t been totally forthcoming with me either. Not that I’m placing my trust in Var Royd, but I know she knows something she’s not telling.
“What about the part about protecting you?”
“Couldn’t tell me that either. I did find out mein Schattenkind means my shadow child.”
She doe
sn’t look surprised—not that calm, collected Dara ever looks surprised—but one eye twitches ever so slightly. If I hadn’t been studying her, I would have missed it. A small crack in her usual cool armor.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, does the title First Arrow mean anything to you?”
Wow! Could that be shock I see passing over her face before her expression becomes even more blank than usual? Voices echo in the hall and the door swings open, saving her. Rey and Nyssa enter laughing and shoving, a bag of videos and case of beer in hand. Damn, yet another unanswered question.
“You’ll be happy to know, we compromised. Nyssa gets her romance, albeit a little sick and twisted in the beginning of the series, and the rest of us get some laser action.”
“Can we skip the part where she plays dumb blond and you try to drag the title out of her? Perhaps moving right to the viewing?” Dara asks.
Nyssa nods enthusiastically. “Han Solo, yum.”
“Just pop the movie in while I get the munchies, don’t forget the surround and curtains.” I had to throw in that last dig, but my sarcasm is lost. Rey is a fanatic about atmosphere and usually harps about the tiniest details.
The teasing and petty bickering makes it feel almost like a normal night. Everyone settles in for a night of Mexican food and intergalactic war, except me. I can’t get my mind off the words shadow child.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Stumbling, crawling, pulling themselves across the ground, they gather around me. Slack–jawed vacancy replaced by adoration. Hands ranging from skeletal to the newly–deceased reach out, attempting to grasp my cloak, but pass through the insubstantial fabric. No, not fabric, but living entities, wavering shadows wrapped around my body, caressing, stroking.
These things that huddle around me, I know what they were, what they are. There will be no excuses, no questioning, all I need to do is ask, no not ask, command. They are mine to do with what I will, just like the shadowy forms that surround me. Anything I desire. Mine. Just say it and it shall be.
