by Lisa Morgan
Seatha giggled. “Yes, Autumn, they do. However, they typically don’t consider it a primary food group.”
I hadn’t taken my eyes off Michel. He remained with you most of the night, my grandfather’s words echoed in my head. Like he knew what I was thinking, Michel’s smiling face found mine.
“Good morning, Maggie,” he greeted tenderly. “I hope you’re feeling better this morning?”
I couldn’t speak. My throat was dry and caked with the sweet remains of breakfast. I nodded my head to respond as Michel made his way to the table, poured a glass of orange juice, and sat opposite Liam.
“Luc did not return last night,” Liam told Michel from behind his newspaper, not bothering to set it aside as he spoke.
“That’s probably better,” Michel responded, sipping his juice. “I sort of borrowed his motorcycle.”
“Michel,” Seatha commented, feigning shock and disappointment. “Luc will be so upset with you when he returns.”
Looking at the eggs and thinking twice, Michel sipped his juice again. “My dear, Seatha, why would I wish to change him now?” he offered lightheartedly.
The group, all but Liam and I, laughed at his assertion. Autumn began clearing my dishes; a look of apology crossed her face when she took mine.
“It really was good,” I lied.
“Yes,” Seatha teased, “if your name is Diabetes Mellitus.” Autumn shot a measured frown at Seatha and then turned on her heels, leaving the room through the double doors.
“Autumn!” Seatha called out, apparently feeling bad about mocking her friend. “Wait! I’m sorry.” She stood and began following behind her. Not skipping, walking, or jogging … flying. Her small wings fluttered, creating a breeze that blew our napkins to the floor.
“Sorry, Liam,” she called over her shoulder as she followed after her friend. I stared in amazement, finally seeing those wings in action and forcing myself to believe what my brain told me: Seatha has wings … she was flying.
“Walk with me, granddaughter?” Liam asked as he stood and set his empty coffee cup down, unphased by Seatha’s mode of departure. “There is much to learn, and I fear the hands of time will continue to tick away in spite of us.”
I rose, pausing to offer my thanks to Michel for all he did the night before, but when I turned my head, he’d vanished.
“Grandfa—” Unfortunately, even he hadn’t waited for me.
Eleven
I quickly stepped from the room, chasing to catch up with Liam. He began speaking as soon as I reached his side.
“There are two worlds, Maggie. There’s the world you have always known. It’s a beautiful place, to be sure. Full of manmade wonders like the internet and buildings that tease the heavens. I never fail to have my breath stolen from my lungs when I see the many splendid things man has accomplished.”
“You said there are two worlds. What does that mean exactly?”
My grandfather didn’t slow his step as we passed the staircase and made our way through the foyer into a library. The walls were covered floor to ceiling in varying tomes and volumes. I spun slowly, amazed by the collection. Some looked brand new, possibly never read, while others looked ancient, if the spines were any indication.
This room seemed to span the whole side of the house. Wide, wood plank floors had ornate area rugs scattered about to protect the high glossed finish. The few furnishings were arranged haphazardly, offering places for a person to read any of the thousands of books that took up almost every inch of space, leaving only small spaces in the walls to hold paintings and windows covered by heavy looking curtains to shade the heat of the day. A large desk with a leather chair was positioned near the only window with parted curtains, dust motes weaving in the early morning rays, dancing in a slight breeze.
Liam sat on a small settee before a great stone hearth, and I sat beside him. “This is amazing,” I exhaled, in awe of the room and of the books it housed.
“It is with great pride and a dedicated hand that these books remain here,” Liam offered, obviously very proud of his collection. “As I was explaining, The Realm is another world.”
“The Realm,” I repeated and Liam nodded.
“Other creatures live in The Realm. The very beings you’ve heard of in childhood tales and seen in fantasy movies are very much real, Maggie. I can assure you.”
“What kind of creatures?” I asked, fascinated.
“How many species are in The Mortal World? Surely the numbers are countless; as numerous as the stars that paint the night time skies. We have as many in The Realm. Fairies, satyrs, witches—they all live there in relative harmony and peace. Seatha is one such fae. Autumn is a young, but gifted witch.”
“Why are they here if they belong to The Realm, as you call it?”
He smiled with amusement. “My dear child, what makes you think you are not in The Realm?”
Liam chuckled softly. “This manor house is The Trust. It’s a sanctuary between the Mortal World and The Realm. It is a place where creatures who serve both worlds may reside, recover, or train. It has stood on these lands for many hundreds of years, always offering a safe place to those who need it, such as the young witch with a fondness for chocolate.
“Autumn was orphaned during the First Revenant War. Her mother fought bravely, but fell as she diverted attention so that her coven and their children could escape. A friend took the witchling with her during the retreat and raised her as her own. Autumn has much expected of her based on the heroics of her mother. When word of you reached the covens, she asked to come here to help you.”
I felt guilty all over again for not eating the breakfast she’d made as he continued, “Seatha has been with you for a very long time.”
I stopped him at that. “Liam, I’m sure I’d remember a fairy hanging out with me. Even if you discount her small figure, the wings seem to be a dead giveaway.”
My grandfather smiled at me tenderly. He lifted two fingers to his mouth and whistled. I heard a tapping on the stone mural, moving toward the room where we sat. I looked to the doorway and found a pale, blue-eyed dog bounding toward me.
“Treader!” I called, falling to my knees with a wide smile and waiting for my husky to reach me and give that familiar wet lick on the cheek.
The dog skidded on one of the rugs and stopped just short, her eyes on me for a second before she fell to the floor. She began to twist and writhe in front of me, whimpers escaping her as if whatever was happening was hurting her.
“What have you done? Stop it!” I shouted angrily at Liam. He simply raised a hand, silently asking me to wait. I turned back to Treader, reaching out to comfort the only pet I’d ever owned.
Her hind legs began to lose their fur and stretched longer. Where the claws and pads of her paws had been, human feet and toes began to form. Her body lengthened, and the remainder of fur disappeared as some sort of growth began to appear. The black snout on Treader’s face shortened, seeming to collapse into her face. Slowly, I watched my husky transform … into Seatha.
“Holy—” I was cut off by the fairy girl as she crawled closer and licked my cheek as if she were still the dog that had lived with me for years. I looked at her, my eyes wide with disbelief.
“Seatha’s strongest power is her ability to transform into an animal of her choosing. When the task of finding you a skilled guardian arose, she was the natural choice,” my grandfather explained as he loomed behind me. Seatha beamed with pride at hearing his praise of her skills.
He dismissed the still giggling Seatha with his hand. I watched the fairy skip from the room as Liam spoke, “When I received word that your father had failed in his task and subsequently made a contract with the revenants, I felt it necessary to send someone to keep a watchful eye on you. Who would suspect a child’s pet was a fae protector?”
“My mother?” I asked again, hoping Liam would tell me what I wanted to know as I stood and faced him.
“As I said earlier, that is not a tale I can tell
you. The king of The Realm holds the answer you seek.”
“Then take me to him.”
“Ah, child … so like your father. All heart and little patience.”
“What was my father doing that night at the church?” I questioned him, almost too afraid of the answer.
Liam paced to look out one of the windows. I watched, hoping he’d finally give me some solace, something that would make all the years I’d endured at the hands of the tormentors who bullied me about my father fade away.
“It was the First Revenant War. The Realm was looking for a way to cut the head off the snake … meaning if we could find Ossa, the revenant army would fall, and we could bring the whole war to an end with our side victorious.”
“Ossa? What is Ossa?” I made mental notes so I could keep up with Liam.
“Ossa is the leader of all revenants, the ruler and most powerful among them.” He said the name like it was a vile curse that burned his throat. It was he who openly declared war against The Realm. It has been said,” my grandfather turned to me, darkness overtaking his face, “that Ossa is almost completely skeletal, but outwardly he appears like any other mortal. Beings in The Realm cannot detect a difference between him and humans.”
“You said is,” I clarified, “not was.”
“I did,” Liam verified.
“But, I mean, isn’t the war over? I haven’t seen any battles. I hadn’t even heard of revenants before last night.” When my father warned me of them.
“There has been a fragile pause to the war. Not a truce so much as a parlay for ten years now.”
“Why? And what does this have to do with my father?”
“During the war, one of our witch allies was able to concoct a mixture that when drunk would transform the consumer to look, to even smell, like a revenant. To make this potion, the witch needed the tears of a Phoenix, not something easily found. She was able to attain a small ampoule, enough to make the potion twice. The first time, she drank it, and the change was almost instant. She cast a second spell, ensuring all she heard would also be heard by those at The Trust,” Liam explained.
“My father was here then? At The Trust?” I asked, my mood perking up at Liam’s nod. Knowing that where I currently sat, listening to my grandfather’s tale, at one time my father could have sat as well. It offered a small comfort.
“The witch infiltrated the Revenant court,” Liam went on. “She learned that Ossa would be moving to the front lines, meeting with his captains to plan a final assault. As you can imagine, this was most valuable intelligence for us and The Realm armies.” I nodded in agreement as Liam turned back to the window.
His voice became soft, regret in his words. “That witch, Autumn’s mother, was found out. It’s still not known who may have revealed her identity, but it didn’t matter. In the early hours before dawn, Ossa sent a regiment into her coven and destroyed them as they slept.”
The reality that Autumn’s mother had died sank in deeply. My grandfather paused so I could collect myself. I shifted, sitting back down on the settee as he continued.
“The Trust, with the king’s approval, formulated a plan. With enough of the potion left, one person would drink it and infiltrate the meeting. Once there, they would kill Ossa and end the war.”
“My father,” I spoke the realization as I stared at my grandfather’s back. “He was the one who drank it.”
Liam inclined his head as he turned from the window. “You are perceptive, Maggie. Yes, your father drank the potion and went to the meeting at the First Church of our Lady that night. Ossa arrived and his battle plans were drawn out, but our plan did not go as we had hoped.” He took a ragged breath, one so full of sadness that the air in the room seemed to grow cold, before he could continue.
“Your father’s body metabolized the potion quicker than Autumn’s mother’s. Without any signs of warnings, he transformed back to himself as he approached Ossa, his dagger in hand and poised to strike the enemy down.
“When Ossa raged at the attempted assassination, your father called on his limited power over fire, lashing out and trying to kill the leader, but other revenants swarmed before he could be successful.
“Ossa captured and tortured him, trying to discover how he’d managed the transformation. When he’d finally had enough sport from tormenting my son, Ossa reached into your father’s mind and pulled the secrets from him about the spell … about the Phoenix tears.
“The Phoenix is the most powerful of beings. More powerful than Ossa could ever be, and the only being that could potentially eliminate the revenants entirely.
“But,” my grandfather continued, sitting beside me and placing his palm on my knee, “a Phoenix doesn’t begin to display their powers until they have aged sixteen years. The tears were weak, but the plan was meant to be quick. It was the metabolism we hadn’t factored in.”
“This Ossa … Where is he now?” I asked.
“After the church, and when he knew there was no further information he could gain from John, he made a contract with your father. He would allow him to live in a reduced mental state, stripping him of his power over fire. More torture, as your father would be aware of visitors and the goings on around him, yet he wouldn’t be able to do anything, not even speak or groan. In return, you would be left unharmed until you turned sixteen.” Liam fell silent and bowed his head to the floor.
Your father would be aware of visitors and the goings on around him, yet he wouldn’t be able to do anything, not even speak … My chest ached with that knowledge and regret. All those visits, all the fighting to avoid spending time with a man who was no more insane than I. Years … ten years spent in a prison, all to keep me safe…
“Who was the woman that lived with me? I know you said she wasn’t my mother—”
“A revenant,” Liam spoke. “It made me sick knowing that creature was raising you. She was sent by Ossa to keep you safe from a possible stray faction that might try to hurt you.”
“So, this Ossa was worried about my wellbeing?” I didn’t even try to keep the disgust and surprise from voice.
“Only because he wanted to harness your power when the time came,” Liam said as he looked at me. “This is not a game, Maggie. Ossa is out there somewhere. Make no mistake-he has been watching you these ten years. By now, he would have been told of your father’s outburst last night and the failure of the revenant guarding you. Ossa will rise, sooner rather than later.”
Liam stood and began walking. This time I followed. He stopped near the desk and pointed to an oversized volume that lay on top of it. “This book, look it over. Read through it. It contains the history of The Realm and the different beings residing in it. You will need all the tools you can summon to fight the oncoming battle.”
Liam made his way toward the doorway as I stared at the book, running my hand over the worn leather cover. My fingers tingled with electricity at the touch and I drew my palm away, tucking it against my chest. His words bounced around inside my mind and a thought struck me.
“Grandfather?” I spoke up, giving him pause. “You said the battle was coming and that I would have to fight?”
“I did,” he sighed, not looking back.
“Why do I have to fight? Isn’t there some kind of army that should be battling? I mean, come on! I’m a sixteen-year-old girl! I can’t even get out of bed before noon. What makes me so important?”
Liam turned, his eyes meeting mine.
“Because, Margaret, those few precious tears used in the potion were shed by you. You are the prize Ossa craves.”
Twelve
Liam left, the weight of his words looming over me. The fantastic story he’d laid at my feet was one spun for Hollywood. Even as ridiculous as the whole tale was, somewhere inside of me, I felt it was true, even if the conscious part of my brain said he was insane and full of hogwash. In a matter of less than twenty four hours, everything I’d known about the world had been flipped on its head.
“Impossible,
” I muttered to myself, walking to the window. I replayed the latest scene in my mind. My precious dog, spread out onto the floor before me, morphing into the sweet girl with wings. The same girl that had tentatively knocked on the bedroom door this morning.
A girl with wings …
I shook my head back and forth, trying to knock the fantasy out of my cobwebbed brain. “Let’s look at this logically,” I debated with myself. “My father is in a crazy house. Chances are, whatever is wrong with him is now showing up in me. Lunacy is inherited, right?”
“Your father is sane,” a voice offered from behind me. I spun to find Michel standing a few feet away. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and those jade green eyes were looking at me.
Wordlessly, Michel made his way toward the desk, staring at the oversized book Liam had pointed to and urged me to read. He ran his hand over the cover and spine, his eyes closing for the briefest of moments, before he glanced back at me. “This book is a record of The Realm.”
“What’s The Realm?” I questioned, hoping to find some sanity from Michel that appeared to be lacking in Liam.
“The Realm is the unseen portions of your human world and home to creatures of myth. It is living, growing, and dying, right under your nose.”
“Why can’t I see it?” I asked, sarcastically.
“You can,” Michel answered, walking to stand beside me. “You have been told for years that these are the stuff of tales. Stories humans tell their children at night before they fall asleep; creatures that haunt the movies and pages of books. Most humans never see a being from The Realm and realize they are anything other than just another mortal. But you, Maggie? You can see them all.”
I whispered, “How can I see something that everyone else can’t and still be considered sane?”
“Because you are of both worlds,” Michel answered just as softly. “The Phoenix in you came from The Realm. To see all the worlds around you, you only have to open your eyes and believe it so.”
I turned back to face the window. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and silently willed myself to see all these things Liam and Michel claimed were around me. Slowly, I opened my eyes and peered outside. Michel laughed wholeheartedly at my squinting in to the sunlight.
