by Mel Todd
Marisol and Henri looked at each other, an entire argument being conducted with looks and head gestures. Then Henri nodded to his wife.
"Very well, Josefa. If you emerge and are less than a magician, you can continue with your plan and get the certifications you've talked about. I won't deny it would be a help as two of your brothers don't want to stay in this business. But if you come out at magician or higher, you attend and get your degree, one that lets you follow your dreams. Promise me, Josefa. I know you don't mind working on cars, but that isn't what you dream."
Jo didn't look at anyone, her fingers fiddling with the corn husk wrappers discarded on her plate.
I nudged her with an elbow. "Tell them. Or I will."
Jo huffed out a breath and glared at me sideways. "Traitor."
"Nope. I just know what you really want."
"Fine." She pouted, but I knew she was relieved to actually tell her parents. Normally she hid her own wants so that she could help everyone else. "I'd really like to be some sort of mechanical engineer. I love engines and electricity and how to generate it. I want to figure out how to build better cars and make it so they're safer for everyone. But without it being paid for, I, we, can't afford it. So, I was going to do the cars. I do enjoy it. "
I kept my eyes on my own food, not wanting to look up. I might cry if I did. She'd mentioned it before, but she'd always said doctor before. As always, Jo wanted to help me figure out the thing that haunted my soul. I could feel her parents' eyes on me. They knew. They'd always known.
"I think that is an excellent idea." Marisol's voice was warm. "I do wish, Cori, you had waited to see if you emerged. Both of you going to college together would have been perfect."
Lifting my head, I managed to smile. "You know I won't. Parents are both non-magical." I hated the term norms—it implied mages weren't normal. At this point they were more common than blue eyes, though merlins were still as rare as truly violet eyes and just as noticeable. With a shake of my head, as if I could rattle my thoughts back into the dark corners of my mind, I smiled. "We'll make it work. I'm not letting her go that easily."
Stinky mock leered at me. "I'd date you, Cori. Then you'd really be family."
"Ewwww," Jo and I said in unison as Henri reached out and bopped his son on the back of the head. Sanchez was a good young man, but he'd been the annoying older brother stuck watching his sister. And the thought of dating him made my stomach turn. I'd rather date Jo. It wasn't anything personal, just that he was Stinky. The childhood name had stuck when as a tween, he'd picked up a skunk by the tail on a dare. The expected happened and he had a nickname that years later still stuck to him the way that stink had. But Sanchez and I were not couple material.
Stinky pouted at me and reached over to pick up the pitcher of water to refill his glass. As he lifted it up to pour the water out, the handle snapped off and dumped the water into his lap.
Now soaked, he looked at all of us, eyes wide in surprise. We broke into laughter as Stinky mock scowled at us. I got up and grabbed a towel so he could wipe up. He might be a pain and cared too much about his computer games, but he was a good brother and would be there for us if we needed him.
Chapter 5
While mages pulled in by the draft are given the leeway to decide what degree they choose, often they are encouraged to the point of being told to follow degrees that mesh well with their strongest branch. For example, if you are a Fire wizard, then you'd be encouraged towards things that use fire: industrial engineering, cooking, solar physics. Someone strong in Transform is pushed towards medicine, biology, or chemistry. What you are pale in can be taken into consideration, but a good mage learns to combine all their branches for the best effect. ~ History of Magic
True to his word, Stinky drove me home. Jo and I had plans for tomorrow to start researching who this guy was and see if we could figure out anything about it. Worst case I'd go down to the police station and see what the two of us could wheedle out of Samuel. Even though Sam knew Jo liked women, he still could be swayed by her teasing. It was her superpower—neither men nor women could resist her.
I walked up to the detached garage and started up the steps. Between all the walking I did and these stairs, I didn't have to worry about staying in shape, though I really needed to put on some weight. A burst of laughter grabbed my attention and I stopped at the landing, leaning on the railing looking down towards my parent's house. From the landing leading to my apartment over the garage I could see through the large picture windows into the living room. They normally kept the curtains closed, but today they were open. I watched, riveted by what I saw.
In the living room my younger brother Kris, he had to be six or maybe seven by now, ran around the living room shrieking in laughter as my dad chased him around. Mom leaned in the doorway, arms folded, an amused look on her face.
My heart seized as I watched, missing that, remembering what it had felt like for them to pay attention to me. Before. Someday I'd find a way to make them … what? I didn't know what I wanted to find. Something that made them proud? Happy? I think they loved me. Maybe I was looking for something that would let them forgive me, and maybe I could forgive myself. Pushing it down, (that problem wouldn't be solved tonight,) I turned and headed into my apartment, locking the door behind me.
Originally built as a way to make extra money from the local college students who wanted a place close enough but not be part of the campus life, it became mine at 14. I guessed I was that college student it had been built for, not that they charged me rent. Everything was paid for and they left me two hundred a month to help with bills in an envelope under the mat.
Walking in I flipped on the lights and headed for my computer. I had some research to do. The clock on the wall stopped me. Nine o'clock. And I needed to be up by five am to get to work by six.
Thirty minutes. I can take that long to see what I can figure out.
I sat down in front of my laptop, one I'd bought with money from the Grind Down and used for all my schoolwork. It sat on an anti-static pad, had a surge protector, and was secured to the desk. I strapped an anti-static strap to my arm before I even lifted the lid. With all the damage that happened to things around me, I couldn't afford to lose my laptop. I'd already had to replace my cheap microwave twice.
Pulling up the search engine, I typed in the guy's name and "New York". A minute later I found his website, his smiling face looking out at me. It fascinated me how different yet the same you looked when you were dead. Something was missing from the eyes after you died.
Clicking through the website didn't tell me much other than he specialized in missing persons. But I wasn't missing. I'd seen my baby photos. Heck, the doctor that delivered me came into the café sometimes, so it wasn't like I'd been stolen at birth or anything. And my name was on the birth certificate all spelled out. Corisande Lorelei Munroe. My grandmother's name had been Lorelei, not that I'd ever met her. She'd died a year before I was born, but Mom had wanted to honor her.
With a sigh I closed the laptop. There wasn't much that I could figure out or even find out. Maybe I'd call his office in the morning and see if I could find out anything. Disconnecting carefully, I stood up and stepped away. Exhausted from the day, I headed to the bedroom, only to trip over the rug in the hallway and slam into the bookshelf at the end of the hall. It tipped over and a cascade of heavy medical books, textbooks, school awards, and notebooks pummeled me.
Instinctively I covered my head. This wasn't my first time being attacked by inanimate objects. It happened pretty often. When the shower of objects stopped, I raised my head slowly and peered at the disaster.
So much for getting to bed on time.
I stood up and began putting things away. Leaving it would bug me so much it wasn't worth the effort. As I sorted and re-shelved, I wondered what else would happen with the dead guy and if I could make it to work on time.
Twenty minutes later, because there were a lot of papers that had fallen out when th
e notebooks popped open, I finished cleaning up. Ready for bed, a peal of laughter, oddly familiar laughter, caught my attention. Unable to resist, I walked to my door, opened it, and stepped out onto the deck. Pain wrapped my soul tight as I looked out on the scene.
Shrieking with laughter Kris ran around the lawn, a cape streaming from his shoulders, waving a sparkler in the dark January evening. They had the yard lights on, and it gave me a crystal- clear view of everything.
"I am Batman!" he shrieked. Mom and Dad stood on the porch watching, trying to convince him to come in, but neither were trying too hard. Instead they had looks on their faces I hadn't seen in longer than I could remember. Warm, caring, loving. My chest hurt and I fought to swallow as I watched him. He looked like me. Same dark hair and smile. I couldn't remember the color of his eyes. What were they? Brown like mine and Dads? Or more hazel like Mom's? So many questions that shouldn't exist.
Watching him, watching them, the family I didn't get to have, was like poking at a wound to see if it would start bleeding again. It didn't, but the pain spread out through every inch of my body. My head itched fiercely and I reached up to scratch, scattering that blasted dandruff everywhere. Something behind me in the apartment fell, but I didn't turn or even think about what disaster awaited me inside. I couldn't look away from them. An image of Stevie laughing popped into my mind, and for a second I saw him running around the lawn. I bit my lip hard as the memories spiraled through me.
Maybe I could go down there, get to talk to them. Maybe the pain had faded. Maybe they could look at me again.
Mom stepped off the porch, a smile making her look younger than the last time I was close enough to really see her. Kris had been about two then. She'd handed me the keys to the apartment, told me it was my place now. They'd pay for everything and cover up to five hundred a month in food. That everything was explained in the envelope. All my stuff was already there. She'd turned and walked away, leaving me standing there. My brother babbled at Dad, looking at me as if I was a stranger. Which I guess I was.
I choked on the emotions in my throat. I should go in. Standing here, watching this hurt too much. As always, I searched my heart for anger or even resentment, but all I could find were questions. Why? What should I have done? Would they have been happier if I died instead? Did they blame me?
The reasons were obvious, but I shied away from that memory.
Why court pain? Instead I watched as Mom reached him, grabbing his arms and swinging him in a circle. He was getting big. He might be taller than Dad by the time he became a teenager. They looked so happy. I remembered that happiness. I'd been part of that once.
I couldn't tear my eyes away, wanting, needing, pleading to be there. Maybe I moved, or maybe the keening in my soul was audible. Estella, my Mom, looked up and her body froze, face staring in my direction. Her voice, sharp and high, emerged, though I couldn't make out what she said. My dad glanced up and he stiffened too. Kris looked up at me, a grin so wide I could see it from there, and waved at me. He kept waving even as they dragged him into the house and shut the door, locking me out.
Story of my life, always on the outside looking in.
I shook my head and went inside. I needed to get to bed so I could get to work tomorrow. The more I worked, the more I could save, and the sooner I could get away from here. Away from Jo? That hurt but compared to what happened every time I saw them, at least Jo would still talk to me.
Chapter 6
The rank of merlin, based on the legends of Merlin, was originally set as another word for mage. But over the years the meaning has changed. It is a title, a rank, but also the person and a favorite to use as an oath. When magic first arose, most mages were called merlins. But over time, as science and our knowledge about magic expanded, we saw there were different ranks to them. Now only those beyond our ability to measure are afforded that title and rank. ~ History of Magic
I woke to my alarm blaring. With a groan, I struggled out of bed and over to the alarm clock to shut it off. The cute little mechanical alarm was a present from Jo a few years ago. The electric ones seemed to die, lose time, or just not go off. And if the clock was near me, I would somehow knock it off or have it break during the night. Having it on the shelf on the other side of the room worked well and I hadn't managed to kill it yet. That was impressive. The only other things that I'd kept for more than two years were my phone and laptop, but my paranoia about them might have been called excessive if the person saying that had never been in my presence for more than a few hours.
Mornings suck. Why do we have mornings? Thank the laws of magic we have coffee.
I stared bleary eyed at myself in the bathroom mirror wishing I'd already had a cup of coffee. With a groan I started the process of getting ready for the day. A quick shower in my tiny bathroom, hair and teeth brushed, I headed out the door and stopped at the envelope peeking out at me. I stood staring at it, the cold air stinging my face. I reached down, picked it up, and stepped back inside. The door closed to trap the heat inside, I opened it, wary and curious at the same time.
Five hundred dollars in hundred-dollar bills lay inside. A slip of paper fell out onto the counter. With fingers that I refused to let tremble, I picked it up. There, in my mother's handwriting, were two words. "I'm sorry."
Guilt, shame, sorrow, and bewilderment hit me all at once and I didn't know if I wanted to scream or cry. Instead, I put the note with the blank birthday and Christmas cards I'd gotten for the last seven years, always pretty, always containing money, never with anything else. Storing them away with care, I took a deep breath and headed out the door. I still needed to get to work. School started in a few days, so I needed to get in as many hours as I could. I glanced at my watch—five-thirty. It would take me ten minutes to walk to work, which gave me about twenty minutes to deal with any oddities.
With a forced grin I locked everything away, setting out to see what would attack me today and maybe get some answers about the private detective.
It turned out to be a quiet day. My walk in found two unscratched lottery tickets. Those I saved for Jo. If I scratched them, they would have no value. If she scratched them, she'd get about a hundred and we could probably go do something fun. I saw Mortimer the white cat again, this time observing a bird with a fixed stare. Deciding I didn't need a repeat of yesterday, I kept moving and got to work before anyone else.
It will be a good day. I need a good day. One full of answers and lacking any disasters. I want too much. I know that. The universe will dash my hopes, but until then I can dream. Can't I?
It was not a good day. That would have been too easy.
One espresso machine jammed, and it took me an hour to fix it. Then a grinder lid hadn't been put on fully and it blew coffee grounds everywhere. The capper was a customer who came in and got two carry trays full of drinks and they both collapsed as she lifted them off the counter. Coffee drinks everywhere. We spent ten minutes remaking them all, and a half hour cleaning up the mess.
Then, because life hated me, Shay walked into the cafe. Glaring at me as usual. "You were supposed to be off at three. You have classes at four."
"I had classes at four. School doesn't start back up until next week and I'll find out the new schedule then. And how did you know that? Are you stalking me Shay? So bored you need to torture a poor student?"
"I don't need to. I can't not intersect with you. Someday there will be purpose in our meetings. Today is not that day." His tattoo glinted at me and I wondered why I still gave him so much shit, knowing he was a merlin.
I rolled my eyes and stared at him. "Does that mean I don't need to serve you? Cause really, I can go back to do other stuff."
"Of course not. I'm here, therefore I need to be caffeinated."
Kadia slid his drink on the counter. Even her normally bubbly personality had been dampened by the day. The clock read four-thirty. Soon the day would be over.
He glanced at both of us, our wet aprons, flat hair, and exhausted looks.
Shay sighed and put a five in our tip jar, taking his coffee over to his usual corner, then disappeared into his laptop for all the attention he paid to the world around him.
I looked around the café then at Kadia. "Ready to clean up? I'll kick Shay out last."
Kadia nodded. "Yes. I'm exhausted. This has been a day."
That was hardly the word. In silent unison we cleaned, stocked, and got ready to go, even as my mind spun. I started classes in a few days, so my time to figure out what the PI was looking for was running out.
"Shay, we're closing," I called out. Shay grunted in response, but a minute later he'd gotten up and headed to the door, tossing his cup as he went.
Kadia left via the front door and I locked it behind her. Flipping off lights as I went through, I tried to make a game plan for when I got home. Stepping out the back door, I thumped into someone. A scream ripped out of my throat and the light at the end of the alley exploded in a shower of sparks.
"Whoa! Cori, it's me, Sanchez." His voice, adult rough, cut through my fear as he grabbed my shoulders, stopping me from falling backwards and probably breaking something.
"Yeesh, Stinky, you trying to give her a heart attack?" Jo's voice came from further down the alley and I craned my head to see her sitting in his truck. "Come on. Mom's waiting for us and we have research to do, chica!"
