The Trinity Sisters

by Kristin Coley

  My own illusions were easy for me to form and see, but this was something different, something I had no experience with.

  Luke grasped my arm and said, “Maybe I can help. I can see through your illusions, maybe I can see though his.” I looked at him with desperate hope. It made no sense, but I wanted to undo at least a little bit of his wickedness. Even if it only meant saving a tree.

  Luke looked at my father’s form, intently staring, and I could see the double image reflected in his eyes. Then slowly I could see how the illusion was formed. I had never taken the time to actually see the shape and flow of my own illusions, learn how they were created, since I did it naturally, but his was shaped by a spell. He didn’t have the gift of illusion. He could only do it using a manipulated form of magic. His was a dark magic, based on the coils of black that seemed to coat the tree. A circle had been formed around the tree, choking it and forcing its life energy into his spell.

  I’m sure there was a more graceful way to break his spell, but I went for the quick and dirty method. I pushed one of the rocks he used to create the circle, breaking it. It was massively heavy, and Luke had to help, but the second it moved, a ripple of wind flowed around us, almost as if the tree had sighed. The illusion of him disappeared, and it was as if a darkness had been lifted. There was nothing more I could do here, and we had lingered long enough.

  “Arizona?” Luke asked, shifting the car into gear. I nodded, slipping sunglasses over my eyes. Garvin truly was a miracle, thinking of everything we needed. It would only take us a few hours to reach Tucson, but I already knew Kincaid wasn’t there. Her new family would have taken the woman’s advice and moved quickly, but it was hard to break all ties, and I hoped we would find something to point us to where they went.

  Exhaustion engulfed me, the events of the past day and night catching up and pulling me into a deep slumber, as the tires rumbled over the road.

  Chapter Nine

  “Kincaidie!” Momma caroled, playing on her name and causing her to giggle. She always giggled, making her easy to find when we played hide and seek. “Oh where or where could my Kincaidie be?” Again, she giggled, and Momma held her finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet. We snuck up behind her and tickled her, as she shrieked with laughter. Her curly gold hair bounced, as she giggled and tried to escape. Momma called her guinea girl, because guineas used to be a form of gold currency, and Kincaid’s hair looked like a shiny new guinea. Momma said it was in the stories she liked to read, the ones she said I was too young for.

  Baby Quinn started to cry then, and Momma looked at me with a smile. “I think she wants to join the fun.” I giggled with Kincaid, and we sat on the big chair and waited for Momma to bring Quinn over. Daddy had left that morning for a business trip. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but I knew he would be gone for a little while, so I could show Quinn my magic.

  When Momma came back with her, I waved my hand, and coins the same color as Kincaid’s hair spun through the air, dancing and flashing in the sunlight. “Ooooh,” Kincaid cooed, clapping her hands together at the sight. Baby Quinn stopped crying, and her eyes followed the coins floating in front of her.

  “Very pretty, Sinclair,” Momma complimented me, sending a warm happiness through me. She glanced over at Kincaid, who looked lost. “What do you see, my little seer? I hope only happy things.” The word seer puzzled me. I didn’t know what that word meant, but before I could ask, Kincaid answered. “A big sign with an orange T on it and a man with black hair, blacker than a raven!” I sighed at her answer, she always imagined the weirdest stuff. Momma had taught us about ravens the day before and how they could be used to take messages to people. She said a raven would remember if they didn’t like you, so always treat them with respect. It could come in handy one day.

  I went to school, and sometimes the other kids would laugh at me if I told them what Momma taught, so I stopped talking about our stories. I would never doubt my Momma, because she seemed so certain. She told us we weren’t like everybody else, and that was a good thing. I knew she was right, because I could make things appear like the gold coins, ever since Quinn was born. Momma said we were born of ancient magic. That our births had been foretold long before we were born, and our destiny was great. I didn’t know if I wanted a great destiny, because every time Momma told us she looked sad.

  Three sisters born, a trinity formed.

  Illusion, sight and flight, together will fight.

  Good and evil battle, when three sisters unite.

  We chanted the words with Momma, her voice desperate, as we stumbled over them. She smiled as we finished, clapping her hands. “Good job, girls! Do you think you can remember it?”

  “Yes, Momma,” our voices echoed, as we assured her we would remember the rhyme she taught us.

  “That’s my good girls. We need to go to bed early tonight. Such a big day ahead of us tomorrow.” She sighed, kissing the tops of our heads.

  “Did you have a good nap?” Luke asked, as my eyes blinked open. It was dark outside, and I wasn’t sure where we were.

  “It was ... interesting,” I muttered sleepily, trying to hold onto the memory. “Three sisters born, a trinity formed, illusion, sight, and flight, together will fight, good and evil battle, when three sisters unite.”

  “That sounds a bit prophetic,” he commented, listening to me repeat the rhyme our mother had taught us so long ago.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I think it might be. Or at least part of it.”

  I sighed and stretched, peering into the darkness. “Where are we?”

  “About an hour west of Tucson,” he replied easily. Something bugged me, something I needed to remember. All of my dreams had been memories leading me closer to the truth of why our mother had done what she did. This one had given me the missing key, the piece of the prophecy she had wanted us to remember, but I couldn’t help feeling it held more.

  “I figured we would stop for the night and start searching for any clues to the Maxwell family in the morning,” Luke said, interrupting my thoughts. The idea of a bed and a hot shower sounded heavenly, distracting me completely from my dream.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. “I need a shower.”

  “I don’t know. You smell pretty good to me.” Luke winked at me, and I flushed, remembering Garvin’s addition to our emergency escape bag. Suddenly, I was wondering if we would get two rooms or one, and how I should handle it if he asked, or if I would be okay if he didn’t ask. This wave of uncertainty wasn’t like me. I was twenty-four and no longer a virgin, so I didn’t understand where this flood of anxiety was coming from. I had already decided to share my life with this man, so a bed shouldn’t be such a concern, but I was finding it was.

  My thoughts wouldn’t stop, making me tenser with every mile we came closer to Tucson. Luke sensed my tension, but not the reason why. He pulled into a chain hotel shortly after midnight, and I was at my snapping point.

  “I’m going to go in and get a couple of rooms,” he said, casually, pulling cash from the wad Garvin had stuffed in the duffel bag. My relief was instantaneous and apparent. He noticed but didn’t comment, so I sank back against the seat and watched him walk into the hotel lobby.

  My relief wasn’t necessarily because he was getting two rooms, but the release from expectation. The decision had been made, for now.

  A few minutes later, he was back with two key cards. “I got adjoining rooms, if that’s okay?” he inquired, half in the car and half out. I nodded, content with the arrangement. He pulled the car around to the back where our rooms were. It was an older chain motel. The rooms all faced out with stairs to the second floor. The place was clean and wouldn’t question cash as a payment method. Our rooms were on the bottom floor corner, and the AC unit was already running, as I walked in and threw what I hoped was my duffel bag across the bed. If Garvin had put condoms in both bags, I may have to kill him the next time I saw him. A knock came from the interior door, so I walked over and opened it.

>   “You should really ask who’s there,” Luke commented with a chiding smile. I responded with a gigantic spider dropping down in front of his face. He jumped back, an expression of surprised fear on his face, before realizing what I had done.

  He gave me a reluctantly admiring nod. “Fair enough. I forget how effective your own weapons can be.”

  I smirked, throwing over my shoulder, “Be careful you don’t reveal what scares you to me. Garvin, to this day, regrets telling me about his fear of clowns.”

  His voice was so low, I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly, “The only thing I fear is losing you.”

  I turned to him, but he only smiled and said louder, “I’ll be sure and remember that. The clown thing and not to show fear.” He winked and I laughed, sitting on the bed. He sat across from me on the other bed, indicating the duffel bag.

  “There is a lot of cash, and I counted two guns in my bag. Do I need to be concerned about carrying illegal weapons around?” he asked, the cop in him warring with the need to protect me with whatever weapons he had at his disposal.

  “Nah, pretty sure they’re registered.” I pulled my duffle closer and opened it. The first gun I came to I recognized. “Yep, this is the one he keeps in his nightstand. They’re legal,” I confirmed, poking through the rest of the bag. I saw the box of condoms labeled XXLarge, and I couldn’t quite bite back my grin at Garvin’s assumption.

  Luke looked at me curiously, seeing my half hidden smile. “Something amusing in your bag?”

  I shook my head, unwilling to introduce the topic when I still hadn’t had a shower.

  “What about the money? I counted $25,000 in my bag, and I can only assume there’s money in yours. That’s a lot of cash to come up with in the short time he had.” Luke’s questions were understandable. From an outside perspective, Garvin’s actions were highly suspicious. Money, guns and a bulletproof car produced in under an hour with no questions asked would make any cop question his business activities.

  “Yeah, it’s all legit. I promise. Garvin keeps cash in a safe at his house, mainly for an instance like this. Our magic business makes good money, and I let Garvin handle it mostly. I prefer to have cash on hand,” I admitted, my own past making me wary of checking accounts and legalities. Garvin understood this and kept everything above board, while still giving me the security of cash. “The car is a joke,” I told him, laughing at the remembrance. “I told Garvin he reminded me of a drug lord. He was only missing the car. He wanted to know what kind of car a drug lord would drive, so I told him something bulletproof, with heavy tinted windows. Basically a tank. Two weeks later, the SUV showed up. He had to have it custom ordered, otherwise it would have been the next day.”

  “How long ago was this? It barely has any miles on it,” Luke asked.

  “Maybe a year ago? He didn’t like it. Said it was too plain. He got a sky blue Mustang to drive instead.” I shrugged. “He kept the SUV in the garage. Said it would come in handy one day. Maybe he can see the future.” I leaned back on the bed, closing my eyes, my own words echoing in my head. Maybe he can see the future ... what do you see, my little seer. As my mother’s words came back to me, I sat back up abruptly. Luke stared at me in surprise as I spat out, “Sight. Seer. Kincaid.” Her name was a desperate plea, as I suddenly understood a key line of the prophecy.

  “Oh,” Luke responded, understanding flashing across his face at what I was attempting to express.

  “She called her, her little seer. I didn’t know what that word meant. But I do now. The prophecy states our gifts. I have illusion and Kincaid has the sight.”

  “Then what the hell is flight? Can Quinn fly?” Luke asked, in stunned disbelief. I shrugged, not really understanding that one either. Maybe Quinn had been too young to show us her ability, but I could only imagine how flight would go over.

  “I’m not sure Quinn has her power yet,” I murmured slowly, remembering one of my theories, as I rubbed my wrist.

  “Why do you think that?” Luke asked, sidetracked from the question of flight by my observation. I shrugged, reluctant to explain my idea, but he just watched me patiently.

  “When I first got my power, I told you it felt like a surge through me. Something broke. Snapped. It felt a bit like being thrown off your feet by a blast, but it was inside of me.” He nodded, urging me to continue. “I was able to see the shadows then. They warned me, and that’s when I cast my first illusion. The mark appeared a few days later.” He raised his eyebrows at that, so I flipped my wrist over to show him. It looked like an incomplete tattoo at the moment, showing two interconnected loops. The first loop had shown up when I discovered my power. “It was six years later when I felt it again. I was eighteen when it came, bigger this time, but more like an echo. I didn’t feel the boom as much as the concussion from it. The second loop was there when I looked at my wrist.” I paused, thinking back to that day, I had been working as a waitress when it hit me. It literally brought me to my knees that day, along with three plates of food which had me looking for a new job. “I think that was the day Kincaid got her power.” It was the first time I admitted my thoughts about what happened that day aloud.

  “It looks like an incomplete symbol,” he observed, studying the small markings on the inside of my wrist.

  “Yeah, I figured out it’s the symbol for trinity. Or it would be, if it was complete.”

  “You’re connected to them,” Luke stated. “And you haven’t felt it again?”

  I shook my head no.

  “How old would Quinn be now? Eighteen?” I nodded again.

  “So you were twelve when your powers broke free, Kincaid was sixteen? And Quinn not yet.” Luke’s attempt to lay out the facts, based on my theory, made me aware of something I had missed previously.

  “Maybe it’s not age.” Thinking back on when I got my gift, I suddenly realized I had needed my ability when I was twelve, and that might have been why it broke loose so violently. “Maybe it’s need.”

  Luke flashed me a narrow-eyed look, clearly wondering why I would have needed the ability to cast illusions and see shadows at the age of twelve.

  I let out a deep sigh, knowing I might as well tell the story and get it over with.

  “You know I went into the foster care system when I was six, when my mother left me there.” He nodded before saying, “And you disappeared from it six years later at the age of twelve.” Awareness saturated his voice as he said it, and I continued.

  “Foster care really wasn’t so bad for me. You hear horror stories, but I had a couple of good families. The last family I was with wanted to adopt me. They were good people. Nice. The mom made snacks every day after school.” I paused, remembering her sweet smile, as she handed me a glass of milk that last day. “There was another boy there. A foster, like me, but he ... wasn’t good.” I frowned, trying to decipher the emotions I had felt at twelve. “I didn’t really understand it at the time, but I knew he made me uncomfortable. He never really did anything, but I know now that evil doesn’t always look evil.” I described the shock when my power broke inside of me, falling off my bike into the dirt, and the strange tingle that seemed to go from my head to my toes.

  “I got back on my bike and went home, not knowing what was different. It wasn’t until we sat down for dinner that I saw him.” I shuddered at the memory of that meal. The absolute terror of seeing the malevolent shadows twisting around his body, gleeful in his stench of corruption. “I could barely look at him. I couldn’t eat. The shadows surrounding him terrified me. She had made us a cake, to celebrate their decision to adopt the two of us. I ran from the table in tears, unable to deal with the idea that he would be my brother.” I paused, remembering the rest of the night. The rest of the family thought I was overwhelmed by the idea of being adopted, so they left me alone that night. Except for him.

  “He came into my room, and the look that was on his face makes me sick to this day. I couldn’t tell you what he planned to do, or if I would have lived through
it or not. I cast my first illusion, a giant shadow like the ones that surrounded him and terrified me so much. He stumbled back, fear on his own face for once. He left me alone that night, but I knew he would be back. Evil like that doesn’t stop.” Luke was sitting next to me by this point, his arm around my shoulders, hugging me tightly to him. “I ran away,” I ended simply, leaving out the first few months on the street, the months that would have destroyed me, if it hadn’t been for Serafin.

  “I’m so sorry you had to face that alone,” he whispered, his voice aching with sorrow. My eyes were wet, as I turned into his shoulder, rubbing my face against the soft cotton of his shirt. He wrapped his arms more firmly around me, as I hugged him loosely, my tears leaving a damp spot on his shirt, the scent mingling with his and soothing me as I inhaled. “You don’t remember his name by chance?” he growled, his intentions clear. I shook my head against his chest, reluctant to release him, but figuring he would want to know the rest.

  “He’s dead,” I said, bluntly, pulling my face up to look in his eyes. He gazed at me with an open understanding, unwilling to judge me for a decision I made so long ago. I took a deep breath. “It was a year later that I heard. He had burned down the house, with our foster parents still inside. No one thought it was him. They believed it was an accident and lucky that he had escaped. I knew better. So I went back for him.” I shook my head, the regret that I had done nothing sooner still razor sharp.

  “You didn’t know,” Luke said, causing my head to jerk up at his apparent ability to read my thoughts. “I could tell,” he said, with a small smile. I licked my bottom lip, nodding.

  “He was just as I remembered. Shadows still danced around him, but I expected it now. I had witnessed others with the same and knew what it meant now. He still wanted me, though I’m still unsure why. Killing seemed to be his preference—small animals and, of course, our foster parents. There may have been others. I lured him to the roof. It wasn’t hard. He came willingly. He seemed to forget the shadow I had scared him with before. But he didn’t forget the illusion I cast of our foster parents, burned and coming for him. He stumbled back from them and fell, the look of terror on his face apparent, even in death. They ruled it a suicide. Tragic really.”