“Good,” Azmodeous said. “Cerise,” he called, “Bring the blood!”
*****
Westin watched Zoë hold the vial up to the light. Inside was blood, dark and thick with age.
The king must have had it for a long time.
Cerise, the king's second in command, laid a slender hand on the girl’s shoulder, her long nails making slight, crescent-shaped indents in Zoë’s skin. Cerise was a striking figure, with long, midnight black hair that fell to her waist, pale skin and bright green eyes that always seemed to know more than the person they were looking at. Her black gown clung to her curves, its plunging neckline leaving little to the imagination.
When she sensed Westin’s thoughts turn her way, she looked up at him through her thick lashes and gave him a seductive smile. Like the king, Cerise was a Murmur, capable of reading thoughts with the ease in which one read a book. She was also capable of manipulating and controlling those thoughts the way one might a puppet. Theirs was a rare Gift, almost as rare as Zoë’s.
Westin turned his attention back to the matter at hand.
“You want me to bring them here?” Zoë asked, voice unsure. “Normally I take myself to the people. I’ve never summoned anyone before, especially not with blood.” She looked at Westin with panicked eyes, and Westin knew she didn't want to disappoint the king. He gave her a reassuring smile.
“They are very far away,” the king told her. “You must have a strong connection to find them, and nothing is stronger than blood.” Westin noticed the king said 'them', meaning they were looking for more than one person. Interesting.
“Can’t I take you to them?” she asked.
“It is unsafe for you to go where they are, as they live in a world that is not our own. A world without access to our magic. Only you are capable of bringing them here. And once we’re done, we can go have dinner. Maybe even dessert,” Azmodeous smiled a kind smile, coaxing a hesitant one from the girl in return.
Zoë took a deep breath and uncorked the vial. With shaking hands, she dropped a few drops of blood onto her fingertips. The blood was thick and took several moments to leave the container, and once it landed on Zoë’s small fingers, she wrinkled her nose in distaste.
The smell hit Westin’s sensitive nose like a dark fog. The old blood smelled stale and underneath was the subtle metallic scent that was stronger in fresh blood.
The general’s Gift was more physical than the others in the room. As a Combatant, he possessed strength, speed, and senses far stronger than those of a normal man.
Zoë cupped her hands and bowed her head in concentration, a serene pose that seemed out of place in the vast, dark room.
As moments passed, Zoë seemed to concentrate harder, squeezing her eyes tighter, clasped hands trembling as beads of perspiration shone on her brow.
The king tapped his foot impatiently.
Westin thought that odd. Usually, the king was more composed. He was known for always keeping a cool head in stressful situations.
At last, Zoë opened her eyes and the king leaned forward in expectation. She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she softly said, “They’re too far away. I can feel them, I can feel two heartbeats, but they’re too far away. I need more time. I need to practice.”
Cerise’s venomous green eyes narrowed, and she stalked toward the girl. Knowing nothing good could come of her interference, Westin prepared to step in front of her. The king’s second- in-command held all of his cold calculation and none of his kindness. But the king's voice stopped them both in their tracks.
“It’s alright. Take as much time as you need, my dear. We’ll try again tomorrow.” The king's voice was gentle enough that Zoë finally met his eyes. “Airoldi, take her to her room. I’ll have the servants send up something to eat.”
Cerise opened her mouth to protest, but Azmodeous cut her off with a pointed look. Both of their eyes lost focus and Westin knew the king was communicating with her through their thoughts.
Cerise smiled in dark anticipation, and Westin wondered what the wicked woman was planning.
Unnerved, he laid his hand on Zoë’s shoulder and began leading her through the castle, to her room. It was all he could do not to ask a million questions, but something in the back of his mind told him that it wasn’t his place.
Instead, he did as he was told.
Chapter 2
Sunny Earth,
2017 London,
Ohio
" 5 , 6, 7, 8..." Sunny Corvinus repeated to her dance class for the umpteenth time. "Right, left, spin, yes! Oh, that was awesome, guys!” She quirked her head to the side, “Who was your dance teacher?” She grinned, “Because whoever it was, she must be pretty dang spectacular to teach you that cool dance.”
A few kids laughed while the rest groaned, one even going so far as to put his head in his hands.
She smiled, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, “Alright, alright, let’s start our cool down stretches.”
The upbeat rhythm of "Maniac" by Flashdance started blaring through the speakers, and Sunny felt it thrumming through her body. Felt her hips sway even though she was drenched in sweat and getting ready to leave.
She watched the dancers through the mirrors that lined the walls of the studio. Their shoes scuffed and squeaked as they all started their end of practice stretches.
After everyone was finished, they all lined up, and one by one, Sunny did a secret handshake with each of the children. She succeeded in making all of the kids giggle, and that brought a smile to her face. That smile would follow her all the way back to the apartment where she lived with her sister, Josephine—although she would always be Jo to Sunny.
*****
"Lucy, I'm home!" Sunny hollered in her best Ricky Ricardo impersonation when she entered their apartment. "And you better have recorded that Britney Spears tribute!"
Sunny's keys clanked loudly as she threw them on the table and then bent her body awkwardly. "Finally, I can pick my wedgie in peace," she mumbled with a sigh of relief.
Jo appeared in the walkway wearing an oversized Elmo shirt and old cut off sweatpants. "Of course I did! Like I would ever forget to record our childhood icon. Please, Sunny, it's like you don't even know me," Jo grumbled, with a mock scowl on her face.
The scowling never really worked for Jo. She was tall and willowy so she could intimidate a person who felt threatened by that kind of thing, but then, once someone looked into her delicate face and innocent, blue eyes, a person might then see her as a fluffy kitten.
Sunny sighed, "I know you already watched it without me, but I'm making you watch it again or else I'll be forced to inflict my worst punishment on you."
Jo crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, "I'm not doing yoga with you again," she winced. "I still have nightmares from time to time about the incident we do not speak of."
"You mean when we were stretching and you tripped over that trash can—"
"We don't need to repeat it."
Sunny snickered and opened up the freezer.
The cool air hit her and felt great against her still sweat-soaked skin. Two TV dinners and half a bag of pizza rolls greeted her.
She tapped a forefinger to her chin, "Hmm. . .what shall I whip up for us tonight?"
"You could get real fancy and make the pizza rolls with a side of ramen noodles," Jo chimed in. "I had a peanut butter sandwich and fruit snacks."
Sunny put a hand to her heart, "I'm so proud.
You really are becoming quite the chef."
Jo flicked her on the nose. "Now shut the freezer. You're wasting good electricity."
Sunny snorted, "Oh, the joys of being poor!" She pitched her voice high and sing-songy.
They quickly maneuvered through their small, pineapple decorated kitchen before pouring some cheap wine into coffee mugs.
Together, they walked into their brightly colored living room of pastel and jewel tones. The white bookshelves they'd purchased at yard-sales and Sunny's rainbow yoga mat lined the w
alls.
Cluttered picture frames hung above the TV, random strips from movie theater photo booths stuck into the frames.
What always stood out the most, though, was the stand they had dedicated to their mother's pictures.
Sunny felt that familiar ache in her chest as she stared at the pictures. It had been six years—six excruciating years—without their mother, Eleyna. She was a beautiful woman, with long, curly, blonde hair. Her eyes were as blue as the sky and with her heart-shaped face and one dimpled cheek, she made men and women alike trip over their own feet for a quick glance in her direction. She missed her mother’s encouragement and overprotective ways.
Would she be proud of the person I’ve become?
Sunny wondered every day why her mom had to go so soon. She wished there was an explanation other than “sudden cardiac arrest.” Their mother was perfectly healthy at age forty-five. How could she have died so suddenly? It had never made sense to Sunny.
While thoughts of their mother swirled in her mind, she looked over at something else that would depress her. Bills.
Jo and Sunny's increasing stack of bills kept getting bigger, what with Jo's school loans, and Sunny's legal bills from the custody battle in which she received full custody of Jo after their mother's passing. If there was one thing that Sunny could’ve been thankful for during that time, it would’ve been the fact that she had just turned eighteen. She didn't like to think about what could've happened if she hadn't been considered an adult.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Jo walk into the room and sit down beside her.
"You haven't even touched your food," Jo observed. "What's wrong?"
"Just a little stressed, but I'll be okay," Sunny said with a reassuring smile. "I’ve allowed myself exactly five minutes of self-pity. But now, it's time I put my happy pants on, watch Britney
Spears, and drink wine with my beautiful sister. Cheers!" Sunny said, clinking her glass with Jo's.
"Cheers," Jo replied, taking a drink. She looked over at Sunny and began pulling her long, curly, dark hair into a ponytail, her usual hairstyle of choice. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes, but later. Right now, I just want to relax and sing my troubles away."
The next two hours was a drunken montage of obnoxious singing, early 2000’s hip-hop dancing, and their downstairs neighbors banging on the ceiling and shouting for them to quiet down.
When the credits started rolling, Sunny asked, "Is it weird that I just got chills over a Britney Spears tribute?"
"No," Jo said, while she pointed to her own arm, showing the goosebumps there. "It's only weird if we let it be."
They looked at each other and then burst into laughter. Sunny loved when Jo was like this, making jokes and acting like her complete, genuine self. Jo could be a little awkward and shy, but when people got to know her, they loved her soft and gentle nature.
Once their laughter died down, Jo yawned deeply, and they both decided it was time for bed.
*****
When they awoke the next morning, Sunny was falling a little behind schedule, as always. She was running around in her bra, foamy toothbrush hanging from her mouth, hopping up and down trying to put on her black leggings.
"JO, HAVE YOU SEEN MY 'SORRY FOR
DANCING' SHIRT?" Sunny yelled from the bathroom.
"YES SUNNY, IT'S IN THE CHAIR!" Jo screamed back.
When they didn't have time to complete their laundry, they just propped all of their clothes in “the chair.” Sunny was sure everyone in America had a “chair.”
Once dressed, Sunny stood on her toes to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Since she was a good seven inches shorter than her sister, their mirror was a little too tall for her. Blue eyes that were identical to Jo's looked tired, and her wavy blonde hair was standing in every direction. She cursed that extra twenty minutes she'd used for sleeping instead of showering. There would be no time for makeup today.
Oh well , Sunny thought. I can still rock the messy look.
She tied her golden blonde hair in a knot atop her head and hurried to the kitchen to make Jo and herself a cup of coffee.
When Jo came out of her room wearing a pair of jeans and a blue Ravenclaw T-shirt, Sunny handed her the cup.
"See you at lunch. Love you," Sunny said, jogging out the door. She heard a 'love you too' just before she exited the apartment building.
London, Ohio, where Sunny and Jo lived, was a quaint little town. It was a place where teenagers could ride their parents’ tractors to school. There were shops with names like Antique Treasures, Thrifty Nifty, and a pizza carry-out could be spotted on every corner. It was the kind of place where everyone knew each other by name, and the dance studio where she worked was also within walking distance from their home, which Sunny appreciated for the extra exercise. . .and because she couldn’t afford a car.
"Hello, dear! I hope you and your sister are well," Mrs. Thompson, one of their elderly neighbors called out, sweeping the grass off her front porch.
"We are, thanks! Hope you and Mr.
Thompson are staying safe. I know you crazy kids like to party," Sunny said with a devilish grin.
Mrs. Thompson roared with laughter, her face beet red. "Oh girl, you keep me young." She wiped her eyes then said, "Please let Josephine know I'll be returning my library books today. I don't know how, but they keep slipping my mind."
"Will do, Mrs. Thompson, will do."
Jo worked at the London Library, which Sunny thought was the perfect job for her because she loved books. The library was also a great place for Jo to study, considering she was going to school to become a teacher.
Sunny loved books as well, but she had too much pent-up energy. She needed a job where she was able to move. Her mother used to tell her she was a born dancer. For even as a child, she had been graceful and coordinated. Your body is like liquid, their mother would say after dance recitals.
The brick building that was the dance studio came into view with The Dance Center spelled out in white letters at the entrance. Her blood started pumping faster in her veins. Dancing was her passion and no matter that she went to work every day and taught mostly younger children, she was still excited to come into work and share that passion.
*****
Hours passed, and before Sunny knew it, she was walking to Mcdonald’s to meet her sister for lunch.
The smell of fried food hit her when they stepped through the doors and her stomach growled loudly.
Sunny patted her stomach and looked down grinning, "I know girl, don't worry. Food is coming."
While Sunny ordered a salad, Jo decided on chicken nuggets.
"And make sure you add in a little-girl toy with the nuggets, sir," Sunny joked.
The teenager behind the counter blushed and nodded furiously, earning a chuckle from Sunny, while Jo rolled her eyes muttering, "Every time."
They wolfed down their food while having meaningless conversation. When they were finished eating, they threw away their trash and walked out the door.
It was a beautiful spring day. Sunny and Jo admired the blooming plants as they walked. Seeing as the library was first on the route, Jo said her goodbyes and started walking that way, when she suddenly stumbled. Sunny jogged after her.
"Jo, what's wrong? Are—" Sunny never finished her sentence because her vision started fading in and out, and her lungs felt like they'd collapsed. Like not enough air was entering them.
Her eyes darted fervently around the sidewalk for Jo, but she'd disappeared, and within the next minute, so did Sunny.
Chapter 3
Jo
Writhia, 5219
The Mistwood
“Son of a bitch,” Jo heard, along with a string of other colorful words as her hearing and sight began to return. Sharp blades of grass brushed along her fingertips and the smell of pollen reached her nose. She sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her head. It felt like she’d been punched by a prizefighter. The last thing
she remembered was getting McDonald’s and heading back to work.
Sunny sat up as well, groaning another curse. She had quite the vocabulary. She shook her head, blonde hair flying free from its bun in a tangled mess. Abruptly she stopped, and her blue eyes grew huge as she looked around. “Jo. . .”
Jo followed her line of sight and knew she must be dreaming as she took in what was in front of her—no—all around her. They were in a forest, but it was unlike any forest she had seen before, at least in central Ohio. The trees around them had smooth, almost coppery bark and leaves that were so bright green they shone like emeralds. The ground was covered in patches of spring green grass, which made her take note of the temperature. It was much warmer there than it had been back home, and she was starting to sweat in her jacket.
They definitely weren’t in the same state. Jo wasn’t sure they were even in America. There was something about the smell of the air and the color of the sky. It was. . .off, somehow. Different, but only slightly, like one of those hyper-realistic dreams.
The trees went on as far as Jo could see, with no sign of civilization in sight.
A grey streak in the sky drew her attention. Was it a bird? A plane? Before she could decide, it had flown beyond the clouds and out of sight.
“Um, Sunny?” she asked, her voice abnormally high. Knowing what she needed, Sunny grabbed Jo’s hand in hers and held tight. Proof that she was real. Proof that she was there.
This is not Earth, Jo thought.
“Don’t be silly, Jo. Where else would we be?” Sunny answered, her voice shaky. Jo hadn’t thought she spoke out loud. But she wasn’t sure she believed her sister. She didn’t know how she knew they were somewhere else, but she did.
Reality hit like a wrecking ball. She had no idea where she and her sister were, or how they had gotten there. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and her heart felt like it would burst from her chest, it was beating so fast. Jo was trembling and, when she looked over at Sunny, she noticed that her sister was as well. Jo squeezed her sister's hand tighter, a reminder that they were together.
Crown of Sunlight Page 2
