Chapter 4
When I get home, the only light turned on in the entire house is the light above my mom’s head in the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table with a letter in her hand, looking unusually pale, the muscles in her face—limp.
“Are you okay?” I say.
She doesn’t respond, she just sits as still as a statue and gazes out into the air, staring at nothing.
“Mom?” I say a little louder this time, placing my hand on her shoulder.
She moves her head toward me, but doesn’t look at me. Her cheeks glisten with tears.
“What’s wrong?” I crouch down beside her.
Finally, she notices me and sniffles. “Three of the young Huldras have been murdered.”
“Huldras?”
“That’s what our kind is called, sweetie,” she says. “That’s why we’re different.”
“Our kind?” I’m totally confused. These beings aren’t supposed to exist—they’re just creatures of mankind’s imagination—mythological creatures. “What happened?”
“They’re not sure. They found them—they were killed separately—shot to death—but were taken—” She doesn’t complete the sentence, but instead looks me squarely in the eyes. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, I’m here,” I say.
Her eyes narrow. “This is important. You must promise me that you won’t use your flair on anyone, you hear?” Her voice trembles.
“All right.” I want to ask why not, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment.
“Someone out there is after us. Someone is out to destroy our kind, and if we reveal ourselves by using our flair, we could be the next ones killed.”
I take a moment to digest that. “Okay, I just want to clarify. Our kind is—you’re saying we’re…Huldras?”
She nods slowly as she grabs a tissue and dries the tears from her eyes. “Promise me you won’t tell a soul.”
“This is crazy,” I say.
“It’s the truth—swear to me you won’t tell a soul!” She grabs my wrist and pulls me in close just a couple of inches away from her face.
“If what you’re saying is true…”
“What I am saying is true, Sonia. Just promise me you won’t use your flair!” my mom yells and slams her palm into the table with a loud bang.
The noise frightens me and I jump. “I promise,” I wince.
At my words, she relaxes a little. “It’s late and I need to get some rest.”
“Okay.” A million questions crowd my mind. “I’m sorry about—” I don’t even know what to say so I stop talking.
“I know, sweetheart—thank you.” She cups my face with her hand, then grabs my head, pulling it closer to her, and kisses me on the forehead. She stands up and goes to the master bedroom, locking the door behind her. I’m in shock. She says I’m a Huldra. She’s a Huldra. Can I believe it? I don’t know; all I know is that this is so outrageous I can’t wrap my mind around it.
I hurry to my room and flip open my laptop to do a search on Huldras. There are a lot of results that come up. The first website reads:
Huldras have been around since the days of Adam and Eve. Huldras have many advantages over humans, the main advantage being that they can control humans in many subtle and ingenious ways.
Is that what my mom meant by saying she’s been playing this game of manipulation since the days of Adam and Eve? But surely she isn’t that old? I scroll down the page and continue to read.
Another advantage Huldras have is that nearly all humans don’t believe they exist. A human doesn’t even know that they are being controlled, because they don’t know that they can be controlled. Huldras hide their identities from humans exceptionally well. Not only that, but a Huldra never gives away her own kind.
Now I understand a bit more about why my mom is so secretive about it. I click into another website and see a drawing of a forest maiden that has long, blonde hair, is dressed in sheer white fabric, revealing cleavage and lots of leg.
Most stories of the Huldras tell of the way they can mesmerize and seduce any man, no matter how faithful he is to his wife or lover. However, what all the stories leave out is that Huldras can control anyone, both male and female. The secret isn’t only in a Huldra’s beauty, though a Huldra is always stunningly beautiful, but the secret is in her flair—or in other words, in the combination of her beauty, her saliva, and in all the virtues and character traits she has appropriated from humans. Though it has been said that Huldras are on earth to do good, don’t let them fool you. Huldras are only after two things: Control and appropriations.
Appropriated from humans—that sounds really sinister. Of course, I already knew about the saliva part, but I don’t yet know how to use it to my advantage—only to my detriment. I wonder if these sites are accurate or not, and who would know about Huldras to write about them? The websites do state that this is just folklore and Norse Mythology, not reality. I click on another link, but discover nothing really important. I click on a few more, but my well of information has run dry. Then I click on one more, just in case it might contain more valuable information. It does.
When a Huldra turns eighteen, that’s when her powers fully develop and she learns how to use them. It is a second birth, a new beginning, a time full of magical transformations. It is also a very dangerous time, in which the Huldra can lose control of her urges, destroying herself and the humans she comes in contact with, unless she is guided in the right direction.
If this website even has an ounce of truth to it, this information explains why I’ve acted so rashly lately. I click into a few more websites, but there isn’t really any valuable information to find, or at least, anything that sounds even remotely credible. I lay my head on my pillow and think about what my mom told me and what I just read. Appropriations? Second birth? Magical transformations? Dangerous time? My life is about to change completely. The thought frightens me; yet, it excites me like nothing else has ever excited me. And as irrational as it sounds though, I feel comfort in finally being given a name—Huldra.
Wraithsong Page 8
