by L. C. Miller
Gazing up at the necklace, Esmeralda suddenly froze. Her charms were going off. Men were coming up the stairs fast. Esmeralda glanced at Abby as she ran back into the room, carrying the green-and-purple cake.
“Hey, do you think—” Abby didn’t get to finish because she suddenly found herself in the corner of the room. Looking around, she saw nothing but grayness. The grayness her mother warned her might happen one day.
“No,” Abby whispered. “Not today.” Dropping the cake, Abby flung herself against the shield. It wouldn’t budge. “No,” she said louder. “No! Momma, no! No!” Abby cried, beating against the gray as hard as she could. “Momma!”
Esmeralda spun back to the door as it blasted apart. Her heart broke when a man who looked exactly like her husband entered the apartment. “Ah, there you are, my sweet little wife. Waiting at home like you promised.”
Angry, Esmeralda glared at him. “You may look like him, you may even sound like him, but make no mistake … you are not my Will.”
The guy’s face cracked as he laughed coldly. His face contorted and twisted before showing a different person—an ugly man with thinning brown hair in a baggy dark green T-shirt and jeans. He stepped to the side and allowed another man and woman to come through.
“I finally found you,” stated the woman as she stepped toward Esmeralda. Looking around, she smirked at the bare furniture and the blank walls.
“My, my, my … It looks like the little Mystic has hit a rough spot,” she said, laughing. “Are you scared?” asked the woman with madness brewing in her eyes. “You should be, you know. You know what’s going to happen, don’t you? By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you never helped any of them. That you stayed in your little world. Every Mystic will suffer, and it’ll all be because of you.” She leaned down to Esmeralda and whispered, “You should have left him alone.”
Esmeralda looked the woman right in the eyes. “That’s what you’re angry about? You’re not angry for me putting your sister away, but of him choosing me.”
The woman turned from Esmeralda, angry. “If he chose you, then where is he? Why isn’t your precious Will here to save you?”
“What have you done to him?”
“I’ve only made sure people knew he was killing other Wielders. Well, someone who looked like him.” She gestured to the man who grinned at Esmeralda. “But as for the real William Reed, let’s just say he’s in no shape to help you,” the woman said snidely as the two men snickered. Withdrawing her wand, the woman flicked it high in the air. Aiming the curse at Esmeralda, she said, “Lesione-Osso.” Esmeralda flew backward, slamming against the wall and landing in a heap on the floor. She didn’t defend herself.
Esmeralda looked in the corner where Abby was hidden when another curse hit her. Closing her eyes, Esmeralda grabbed the tiny bag tied around her neck. “You’ll get nothing from me,” she gasped as she felt her skin shred apart as the next curse hit her.
“Oh, I doubt that. You’ll tell me everything I need to know. No Mystic should be allowed to live after what you’ve done,” the woman screeched as she flew another curse at the bleeding lump on the floor.
A slight cough had her turning around. “What is it?” she snarled, glaring at the men. One of the guys pointed toward the door. Sitting in the open doorway was a large black raven. The woman went to the bird and took a letter from its beak. Then she fed it some poisoned treats from her pocket.
Reading it, she smiled. “It seems one of my men might have found your tribe. I will be sure to tell them that it was you who gave up their camp to save your pathetic husband.”
Real fear crept through Esmeralda then. Having taken the momentary distraction to toss her summoning powder high into the air, she lay spent on the floor of the old apartment, tears running down her face.
Abby beat and beat against the wall. It still wouldn’t budge. “Mom!” she screamed again. “No! Not today. Not ever!” Abby changed her shape to every animal she could think of, from bear to beetle, but nothing was getting through. She flung her cake plate at the wall.
She even shoved the dresser at it. It fell to its side and something fell out of one of the drawers; a small white stick with a green stone on the end. Abby didn’t know what it was. She picked it up and tried stabbing the wall with it. She stopped suddenly. She could hear voices. Laying her ear to the shield, she tried to listen.
Esmeralda lay on the floor, her heart breaking for her family, pain ransacking her body. She didn’t know which was worse: the physical pain of torture or the emotional pain of hearing her daughter’s screams. She knew the shield was about to break.
Abby stabbed the wall again. And again. And again. She could make out shadows in the grayness now. The voices were coming in clearer, too. What she heard next made her heart grow cold. “Finish her off,” she heard a woman saying.
“No!” cried Abby again. She started beating against the wall with everything she had. Still holding the white stick, Abby didn’t notice the green stone was starting to glow. The only thing she cared about was her mother. She wanted her mother. She needed her mother. The stone grew brighter.
The woman stepped to Esmeralda and put her hands on her face. “You should have left him alone,” she whispered again in Esmeralda’s ears. “Finish her off,” said the woman again, stepping away. “And then report to me when you are done.”
The woman stepped over the body of the dead raven and with no sound at all disappeared. The two men looked back at Esmeralda, one of them smiling. A sudden blast of green light flooded the room, almost destroying it. The dresser and coffee table exploded. The kitchen cabinets where hanging off their hinges. The fridge was on its side on the floor, and the three men were nowhere to be seen.
The blast knocked Abby back against the wall. Struggling to her feet, she looked around. Still holding the white stick, she ran to her mother. “Mom? Mom, what can I do?” cried Abby as she put her mom’s head on her lap.
“You go with them. They’ll be here soon,” Esmeralda whispered. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw what her daughter was holding. “Where did you get that?” Esmeralda asked.
“It was in the dresser. It fell out, and I used it to try and break the wall. Mom, you’re going to be all right, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid not, darling,” murmured Esmeralda. Abby started crying harder, tears blurring her vision. “When the Mystics get here, Abby, you need to go with them.”
Abby shook her head. “I don’t want to go with them. I want to stay with you. I want you.” Abby cried harder.
“Just show … just show them this,” Esmeralda said, holding Abby’s hand that held the stick.
“Why?” Abby breathed. “What is it?”
“It’s something very special, Abby. Very special.” Esmeralda’s breathing seemed to slow down.
“No, Mom, wait, please,” Abby pleaded. She rocked back and forth, holding her mom. Abby and Esmeralda heard the distant sound of voices. Esmeralda smiled through the pain as three Mystics hurried into the room.
“Oh my ...” breathed one of them.
“Esmeralda?” asked a Mystic in bright red skirts. The woman hurried over to them. The two other Mystics looked around. “What happened here? Who are you?” one of them asked, pushing aside debris. Abby was still crying uncontrollably and holding on to her mother. The woman took Esmeralda’s hand and almost dropped it when she saw what Abby was holding.
“What is going on?” asked the woman, staring at Esmeralda.
“This is Abby, my daughter,” she gasped as she struggled to breathe. “Abby, this is Esther.”
The woman glanced from Abby to the Esmeralda. Abby’s hair was still bright blue. Esmeralda grabbed Esther’s hand and looked from the wand in Abby’s hand back to her and again. “They claimed to know where the camp is. You need to … to warn them. Please … take her … with you,” she gasped. “She shouldn’t be a part of this.” Esmeralda whispered before closing her eyes, “I love you, Abby-girl
.”
“No, Momma, no!” cried Abby, barely able to breathe as she sobbed. The woman and the two men looked helpless as they gathered around her. Glancing up, the woman saw the necklace still floating in the air. “Get that, Paul,” she ordered one of the men.
“Oh!” the woman stated as Abby’s hair went from blue to black. The two men seemed equally surprised. Abby sat, rocking back and forth, still holding the wand and her mother. She wouldn’t let go, even after Esmeralda Reed died.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Back to the present …
The courtroom was silent. A few people wiped tears from their sleeves or buried their heads, pretending something was in their eye. “A Memorian Ball …” began the Madam, but stopped when she turned to face Abby. Abby’s dark brown hair was gone, and in its place were swirling red and black locks. Tears ran down her face.
Abby stared at Mr. Jensen and took a step forward. She ignored his horrified expression. “Sir, I believe you have the wrong person on your stand.” Turning, she left the courtroom. She didn’t look at anyone. Now they knew. They all knew. She was not a Restricted, but an actual Unrestricted. Her mother was a disgraced Mystic. Her father was the murdering William Reed.
She didn’t want to see their horrified or disgusted expressions. By the time she made it to the hall, she was running. Throwing open the front doors, she saw her Glider waiting. Jumping on it, she flew up as tears ran down her face.
Abby found herself staring down at her mother’s grave. She wasn’t surprised she ended up there after the way the morning had gone. “You left me,” she whispered. “You didn’t fight, and you let them take you!”
Falling to her knees, she screamed, “You left me!” She started ripping up flowers and grass.
Joseph Carmichael appeared next to her, shocked. “Abby?”
He took a step toward her, but stopped when a figure came forward. By now Abby was rocking back and forth, crying harder than ever. “Why did you let them kill you?” Abby whispered. She barely felt Mrs. Herrin’s arms come around her and hold her.
“I’m sorry,” Abby whispered sometime later when she realized who held her.
Mrs. Herrin sighed. “It’s okay, Abby. We understand.”
Abby stared at the grave. “You would’ve liked her,” she said quietly. “She was a very good mom. I’ve been sneaking out at night to fix this.”
“I know,” Mrs. Herrin said. “I might have been busy, but I know when my children are not in the house. Jackson and I knew you were going out at night and coming here. But what we didn’t know was why you were sneaking out. Why didn’t you tell us you were an Unrestricted?”
“I wasn’t supposed to. Most of the Mystics don’t even know. They consider it bad. One shouldn’t be able to change themselves without the use of potions or charms.” Abby recited the old phrase from heart, “To do so would mean using uncharted magic. Only the Madam and Rainy know. Well, and Brannon found out too, but I made him promise not to say anything.”
Mrs. Herrin was quiet for a minute. “We don’t think it’s bad. As a matter of fact, most people think it’s pretty cool.” Abby seemed shocked. “You’ll need to be registered. There hasn’t been an Unrestricted since …” she broke off.
“Since my dad?” asked Abby, looking at Mrs. Herrin.
She nodded. “Since your dad. Well, and Principal Bauble, of course.” Abby leaned back in surprise. “Well, how else did you think she was changing her hair so much?” Mrs. Herrin smiled.
“I don’t think my dad did all the bad stuff people are saying he did. I don’t believe he murdered anyone in cold blood or anything,” Abby said after a while, not meeting Mrs. Herrin’s eyes.
“Well, since your past reveals what Cecilia Ridmore did, then he may not have, or at least, not willingly. But, Abby, you need to understand that not everybody will believe he’s innocent. There is plenty of evidence to suggest he isn’t.” Abby nodded as she picked up a torn rose. “So, can your Mystic side do things a Wielder can’t?” Mrs. Herrin asked a few minutes later.
Smiling, Abby said, “This, for one.” She put her hand in the soil. The flowers and vines started repairing themselves. The roses bloomed fully and brightly, lilies of all colors encircled the headstone.
“You’re the reason the rose is still blooming,” Mrs. Herrin exclaimed, staring at the flowers.
Abby shrugged. “You smiled every time you saw it.”
Rising, Mrs. Herrin helped Abby to her feet. Joseph appeared next to them. “Thank you, Joseph, for keeping an eye on her.”
“No problem. Can she come back more often now? I like talking to her.” Mrs. Herrin nodded, and Joseph grinned as he faded away.
Abby looked up at Mrs. Herrin in surprise. “He is a very distant relative of mine,” Mrs. Herrin explained.
Abby glanced back down at her mother’s tombstone. She inhaled sharply as words appeared over the chipped stone.
Here lies E.F.R.
A courageous woman,
A caring wife and wonderful mother
Abby turned back to Mrs. Herrin as she put her wand back in her jacket. “Now she won’t be forgotten.”
“No mother wants another woman raising her child,” said a voice over the grave. Abby and Mrs. Herrin glanced up to see Esmeralda floating above it. “But I couldn’t have chosen a better one. Thank you, Sarah Herrin, and your husband for taking care of my daughter. I knew she would eventually find you.” She looked at Abby. “I love you, Abby.”
“I love you, too, Mom,” Abby said as tears started back up.
“You be good, and remember I’ll be watching.” She poked a finger in Abby’s direction and smiled before fading away.
“You know what? I think you’re right. I would’ve liked her,” Mrs. Herrin said. Abby smiled through the watery eyes. Putting her arm around Abby, Mrs. Herrin’s gaze rose, and she eyed the Glider warily. “So that’s a Glider?”
Abby nodded excitedly. “Want to ride it back?” The Glider came down and formed steps for them to get on. Once they were seated, it flew straight into the air.
“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Herrin, grasping the edges.
“Don’t worry,” said Abby assuredly, “she won’t let you fall.” Mrs. Herrin peered over the edge. “Ready?” Abby asked. Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Herrin nodded. It didn’t take them long to get home. Standing outside the doorway, Abby asked, “Are they mad at me? Ethan, Aaron, and Carly?”
“Oh no, they aren’t mad. Probably more excited to see you change than anything else.” Abby giggled as Mrs. Herrin opened the door. Everyone was there—Rainy, Rollen, Carly, Ethan, Aaron, and several others sat on the couches and chairs. “Mr. Spinner! Paul! Esther!” Mr. Spinner hugged Abby, as did Paul while Esther gently patted her on the head.
“Now back to our conversation. Why was the charm activated?” asked Esther. She was looking at Abby when she asked this, but Abby was distracted. Paul was looking at her like he could hardly contain himself. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Paul,” said Esther. Paul let out a loud wallop as Abby changed her hair into bright blue curls.
She changed it back to brown as she turned back to Esther. “Why did you bury her there? You didn’t even mark her headstone.”
Esther sighed. “Abby, I’m sorry, but it is our law to bury a disgraced Mystic instead of the funeral by water and fire. By the time her disgrace was actually lifted, she was already in the ground. We didn’t name the stone because we didn’t want anyone to know who it was.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t let me go to the funeral?”
Esther seemed surprised. “Of course not, Abby! You were in no condition to do anything then. You couldn’t sleep through the night because of nightmares.”
“You didn’t eat much,” said Paul. “You could barely stand up when we buried her.”
“And since you couldn’t stay with us—” began Esther, but Mr. Herrin interrupted.
“Why couldn’t she stay with you?”
Esther didn’t look thrilled to an
swer. “Although her mother was a Mystic, her father was not. No wand-wielder is allowed to stay at our camps.”
Mr. Herrin looked pointedly at Mr. Spinner.
“I lived in some woods in Maine. There was a tribe close by, so I taught Abby. Well, how else did you think she could pass for a fourth year?” he said when Mrs. Queenly, Mr. Herrin, and Mr. Peterson appeared surprised.
“How did you find places for her to stay?” asked Mrs. Herrin.
“Wherever we moved, we charmed anyone living near our camp to take Abby. There was Eleanor, Mrs. Cynthia Smoots, and Ms. Molly Mickman.”
“Three foster mothers?” exclaimed Mrs. Herrin. “Why so many?”
“Wasn’t our fault,” Esther started. “Abby was having bursts of magic, which caused us to have to move. It was the last outburst that had us getting a Wielder teacher for her,” Esther explained, smiling at Abby.
“What happened?” asked Mr. Herrin as Paul started snickering.
“She turned her teacher’s car into a Hot Wheels toy,” explained Esther. Now Paul was outright giggling. “And of course, he happened to be inside it at the time.”
“He tried to teach me math! I hate math!” Abby said indignantly.
“She’s done very well, I might add,” Mr. Spinner explained as the laughter subsided.
“I hate to break up this happy occasion,” interrupted Marcella; she ignored Rainy’s rolling of the eyes, “but I believe I should inquire about a conversation I heard a little bit ago from these two gentlemen.” She gestured at Brannon and Carter. “What is it about this cave? It was near our camp, I believe?”
Abby, saying nothing, only glared at Marcella. She didn’t even care that her hair started to change to red. “Cave?” asked the Madam. “What cave?”
“Apparently our little Wielder created a hideout near our camp. Probably did spells and potions there. Maybe even dark magic, you know, like her father.”
Abby rose to her feet. “I have never done dark magic in my life, and neither did my dad!” Bombers, who had been resting beside Abby’s feet, hissed at Marcella. Mr. Herrin blanched and immediately moved to the other side of the room.
