“The relics have been passed down through our family for years. The hammer, however, was not on the earthly plane. That was in Heaven. I still don’t know how your brother got his hands on it, or how he knew what Levi was up to,” she says, returning to the room and smoothing the tablecloth before settling into her chair.
I’m trying to remember where I got the shoes. Glittery wrapping paper. White shimmering flakes float around in a snow globe. Santa sits at a desk in the crystal sphere, sleepy golden retriever puppies litter his ankles. Smell of cinnamon and pine needles. Sweet crepe suzettes with creamy strawberry filling melts in my mouth. Christmas morning. I see Mom smiling expectantly over the corner of the open gift on my lap. A pair of stilettos line the box. A snake wrapped around each heel. Hammered metal slit eyes glint in the tree’s glow.
“Well, that’s certainly the question of the day, isn’t it, ladies?” Persephone asks the room. She’s sitting cross-legged on the table wiling away on her Rubik’s cube again.
“It certainly is,” Regina says, absently brushing invisible crumbs off the tablecloth.
“Well, can I get any info at the library? We’re heading out there today.”
“Certainly. Did you meet Dagan, by the way?” she asks, oh-so-casually disappearing into the kitchen.
“Yes, we did. He’s funny,” Persephone says now empty-handed, her attention completely focused on the current topic. “And cute…” She leans forward, head perched on steepled hands.
The guy reminds me of my brother. We’re Hansel and Gretel following the trail of breadcrumbs, though I hope for a different ending.
“What’s up with him? I could only get a partial read on the guy. Images and things from here and there but I couldn’t break into his energy field for a full work-up,” Persephone continues.
“He’s a quiet one. I actually don’t know that much about him, and I’ve been here a long time. I know he was born Granite and came out here to live with his grandpa when he was young. When his grandfather died, he became Crystal’s Leader.”
“But Crystal doesn’t have a leader,” I interject.
“That’s because Crystal’s is unspoken. He’s not a leader in the sense of a king, the way it is with the other shires. He is chosen by the people and by the Lord.”
“What do you mean?” I ask intently.
“The Rock in the Cush,” she replies. “It’s another vortex. All vortexes were designed during creation. They are all the oldest sites on Earth since day one: ‘Let there be light,’” she snaps her fingers. The light blinks in unison. I swear it.
“So, these spots where energy is projected and absorbed create channels to the other planes. The Spirit World and our world overlap. The different energies converge. The Rock consists of the oldest rocks and gemstones in the universe. They have been here from—” she snaps her fingers, and the light blinks again. I swear. “Day one.”
“God, himself, appears at The Rock?” I ask.
“No, it’s the Holy Spirit. He’s invisible and only the Crystal Leader can hear His voice.”
“So then how do you know it’s God?” Persephone asks, sitting cross-legged in a chair at the table.
“Well, that’s where faith steps in, my dear,” she replies. “That’s why only a few choose to be unconnected. We all have faith in God, The Rock, and the chosen leader. We haven’t been wrong since the beginning, so, it works for us.”
“Okay, so that explains the signal-latch.” I remember the bronze shackles.
“Yes, ma’am,” she says. “Now remember, these vortexes, especially un-armored, also pass over to Hell. And Hell, that’s a different beast. There’s no preparing for it, honey. I’ve seen it. Near-death experience. Saw the Spirit World too. Hell… It wasn’t good.” She shudders. “He never showed himself to me; otherwise, I would have never allowed Levi as far as he got up here.” She looks into an imaginary scene of pure horror. “You just have to be strong, Lyv and have faith.”
She places her slender hand on my shoulder and looks intently at me. Her smile-lined blue eyes bore into mine. “Spiders,” she mutters nervously rubbing her hands together. “My God, the spiders…”
I fidget in my chair. Clowns and spiders. Two of my biggest fears. In addition to every other horrible event one gets to relive in Hell. I hate this guy.
“So, how can Dagan help?” Persephone asks, a little too excitedly. I wish she had her Rubik’s cube.
“I don’t need help,” I say indignantly. “I mean maybe he’ll share some of his knowledge of—I don’t know—a Crystal Leader who can hear God? And then I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a mission.”
“The snakes,” Regina whispers with another shudder. “Honey, you’re gonna need all the help you can get.”
14
With my overweight bag and accompanying lunch sack strung over my shoulder, I head up into town to hitch a ride. There are people milling about who look familiar from yesterday. Someone hit slow-motion. Everything moves at a leisurely pace in Crystal. Prism buildings gleam in the sun. Interwoven wood and concrete make the buildings appear both ancient and modern, which is accurate. The town is paved in archaic rock found and collected around the land as it got swallowed up by the storm. It’s a patchwork pebbled walkway featuring every color of salvaged gemstone.
The mother and her two baby hammerheads from yesterday sit near the playground. This time the baby sharks are eyeing a baseball. I wave. She waves back. I realize she looks familiar and then I place her; her name is Mercedes. She’s the Leader of Granite. There isn’t a gender preference for shire leadership. I’ve met her at several events with Levi. She’s preoccupied with her boys and I have to lot to do, so I settle with a wave.
Two old men exit a diner. One is holding a yellowed ancient newspaper. It’s astonishing at first glimpse. How is it in such pristine condition? A teenage girl with honey blonde hair walks by holding a paper book to her face. I love Crystal. I watch her expertly multi-task and try to catch the cover. I can’t. She narrowly misses a man hustling in the opposite direction by less than an inch, his long black wool coat brushes her page. Mirror, mirror on the wall. I’m looking at myself a billion years ago.
The young woman with the dogs from yesterday passes on the other side of the road. She’s got more this time. Mostly pit-bull mixes of one sort or the other. One looks purebred Staffordshire Terrier, fawn and white colored. One favors German Shepherd in her mix, her large pink ears stick straight up like Yoda. She’s a pretty, brindle colored pup with a pink collar. Another mix, this one favoring Labrador dons a blue collar. His adorable puppy dog eyes glance back toward Mom periodically to make sure she’s still there. A short Jack Russell flits about nervously in the group. She skitters underneath the taller breeds. A small fluffy Shih Tzu stubbornly brings up the rear with the air of a princess.
Today, the woman is wearing jean shorts and a cropped white t-shirt with brown leather strappy sandals. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, long pieces float around her face in the breeze. The dogs are taking her for a walk. There’s something about her that seems familiar, but I still can’t place it. Distant déjà vu. I need to introduce myself when I’m back in town. There’s something about her.
I start to look around for possible rides. Nothing. I waited too long to ask. I thought I would still have options as I neared the town limits, but not today. I get close to the dispensary and see a pile of loose golden honey curls in a crystalline window. I gotta meet her.
As I walk up to the door, I see the bouncing curls. I knock. She opens the door revealing a tiny boy attached to her leg, a little girl peeking from behind her, then a somewhat older girl appears on the other side of the doorway.
“Who are you?” asks the little boy from below.
“I’m Lyvia,” I say, stooping to his eye line. “And, who are you?”
“I’m Axel,” he replies with a big smile, bright blue eyes shining behind thick-rimmed glasses. His blonde hair is ruffled. He’s wearing a blue t-shirt that seems
to be rebelliously placed on backwards and inside out.
“I’m Reese,” says the oldest, holding out her hand. I take it. It’s slender yet strong. Her hair is thick akin to her mother’s, although the color of very faded red bricks. She’s got the same inquisitive big blue eyes as her brother. She holds a pen and spiral notebook, similar to mine. She checks her watch. She’s wearing a Hermione costume from Harry Potter. Boy, the fashion treasures in this place.
“I’m Anika.” A muffled voice projects from behind her mother’s long dress. She has her thumb in her mouth. She says her name like Monica minus the M.
“Well, hi, Anika.” I stoop back down.
“Hi,” she responds, bravery growing. She emerges from the billowy fabric of the dress, a tiny hand outstretched. Her wide, root beer-rimmed, honey-hazel eyes bore into mine. Her milk chocolate curls balance precariously on her head, which is adorned with a crystal tiara, slightly askew. She’s wearing a gold Disney princess Belle dress, tiny high-heels and a clutch. Oh, and elbow-length gloves.
“Okay, guys. Jeez. Hi, I’m Scarlett. It’s nice to meet you. Come on in,” she shakes my hand and disappears into the house. Her baby ducklings flounder in her wake.
She’s wearing a long dress. It seems almost reminiscent of Gone with The Wind, although, modernized, thinner fabric, not as bulky. No window curtain with rod in this one. Elegant, classy. I feel so underdressed until I remember you wear whatever you want out here. Her updo frames her eyes, caramel root beer matching Anika’s. She has impeccably placed red lipstick on. She’s so fancy. I’m already mentally rifling my wardrobe for anything similar to this dress. Nothing. Gotta get on that.
I follow her through the store, which is filled with potion bottles, not unlike Regina’s. A lengthy passageway takes us through the store down into her home. Along the way, I hear muffled barking.
“Oh, that’s Vanellope, our dog,” she says over her shoulder casually.
“Can we get her, Mom? Please, please Mom?” Axel pleads.
“Nope. Not now,” Scarlett replies.
“Please, please, Mom. Please.”
“No.”
“But—I wuv you, Mom.” I sense crocodile tears behind that one.
“I ‘wuv’ you too, baby. Next time.” Axel runs ahead, Vanellope already forgotten.
“Bought ya some time,” Scarlett whispers to me over her shoulder. “Um. She’s… she’s ahh… kind of hard to describe. You’ll get the privilege someday, I’m sure.”
We arrive in a kitchen. It’s large. The inside of the entire space is larger than possible. I’m starting to get used to it. Her kitchen consists of ivory and dark, thick wood. The floor is hardwood too; although, it alternates lighter and darker stains.
Reese and Anika take seats at the counter. Reese is poised on her stool, notebook open and ready. Glitter pen in hand, she reminds me of myself at that age. Anika, on the other hand, huffs and puffs her way up the stool, reaches the top and lands in a golden swell of fabric. She sits forward, head dramatically falling into the crooks of her elbows.
Oh. Wait. Yep. That was more my style. A combo of the two—heavy on the Anika. Scarlett stands at the counter cutting an apple. Axel hangs on to her leg, eyeing me suspiciously.
“So, what brings you out here?” Scarlett asks.
“I’m heading out to the library. I walked up there yesterday. Nearly died on the bridge, if you can call it that,” I respond.
“Oh yeah, nobody uses that anymore.”
“It’s a goner at this point.”
“Mom, Mom, Mom. Can I have ah apple? Can I have ah apple? Can I have ah apple?” A chorus echo from Axel.
“Sure, Ax, here,” Scarlett leans down and hands him a few slices.
“Did you meet Dagan?” she asks, as she puts things away. “He’s out there often.”
“Actually, yes, I did. Very nice, he helped me find the place.”
“Yes, he’s nice. Don’t ya think so, Ani-bug?” she asks, a wink toward the tiara-bejeweled head. Anika slumps back in the chair with a harrumph.
“Mom. Now I’m embarrassed,” she declares, throwing her arms down.
“She’s got a little crush,” Scarlett mouths the word ‘crush.’
“Mom, she just likes him cause of his accent,” Reese adds, rolling her eyes and writing feverishly in her notepad. I wonder what it says.
I did detect a Granite accent there. I think of Shane and how much Dagan reminds me of him. He’s a long-lost brother to me, one with a mysterious background. He’s a cryptic Ferris Bueller running around Crystal doing as he pleases, while his sister teeters with annoyance.
Besides as much as I abhor Levi, I hate to admit—I’m deeply heartbroken. He made me care about him. He got me to love him. Even near the end, there was attachment. And, he ended up being Lucifer, himself. So, no thank you very much. I prefer complete independence. Still, Anika’s ‘crush’ is adorable.
“Well, if anyone can help you around the library, it’s him,” Scarlett says, as she washes her hands.
“I’m meeting him there at nine o’clock this morning. I was actually wondering if…”
“Oh sure, Lyvia. We can give you a ride. Right guys?”
“Right,” Axel says, taking some cautious steps toward me.
“Right,” Reece echoes, distracted in her notebook.
A deep sigh. “Right.” Anika exhales through her teeth, clearly not over her embarrassment.
“Let’s see, what time is it, Ree?”
“7:43a.m.” she replies, inspecting her moonstone wristwatch.
“Very precise, that one,” Scarlett says, leaning over the counter. “You want some tea? We have time.”
“Sure,” I reply.
She bustles around the kitchen. “You like Earl Grey?”
“My favorite, actually.” I spot movement near my feet. Then, a tiny tapping on my snake strap.
“Ooh Mom, it’s a snake,” Axel says, inspecting the strap with his finger. His head is turned nearly upside down as he follows its head to its tail. He’s fully engrossed.
“Wow. Those are too cute. Where’d you get ‘em?” Scarlett asks, taking a look. She pulls the hem of her dress up. “I got these last year. I need some new sandals.” Black stiletto boots go above the knee. Matte coal leather features an intricate design etched around the shoe. It’s a mystical forest. Trees, vegetation, a small pool, an outline of a unicorn and a werewolf all wrap through the etching in the leather.
“Whoa,” I say entranced.
“I know,” she exclaims. “I found them out in Mortal last year at a market. I couldn’t believe they were my size.” The design continues into the heels, although the trailing flowers slowly gain color. They’re bright and vibrant in the tapered stiletto style heels. I have to find another pair. Okay, task-at-hand. I feel like Persephone.
“How long have you been out here?” I ask.
She tends to the steaming teal tea kettle. “Hmm let’s see. My husband and I brought the kids out here a year ago. We wanted to try out Crystal. We were Darkens before.”
“Me too,” I say, pouring cream and sugar into my tea.
“I thought there might be somethin’ bout ya,” she replies, dipping her tea bag in her fragile teacup.
“I just love your tea set.” I inspect the intricate floral patterns that don the ancient porcelain.
“So do I,” Anika exclaims excitedly. “Mom, can I have some?”
“Sure, honey,” Scarlett replies, filling a tiny cup half-way. She dunks the tea bag in twice before she removes it. “Don’t want it too strong,” she whispers conspiratorially to me. She hands Anika the teacup and turns back.
“Hey, Reesy—can you please take Anika and Axel and get them ready for the road?”
“Sure.” Reese grabs Axel’s hand. Anika takes one last sip of her tea and trudges behind the other two. Her tiny heels click-clack on hardwood floor.
“My husband passed over last year. Shortly after we moved here,” Scarlett says, her tone lo
wered.
“I’m so sorry,” I reply. I know she too is navigating the unspoken waters. The deep, dark pool of black. If you have ever lost anyone close to you—you’re in the pool, aimlessly drifting in its clammy black water. There are the people in the pool, and then those outside the pool, the ones lounging on beach towel-lined chairs. But—they’ll be in the pool someday, too. The minute someone you love is taken away is the minute you’re thrown into the inky black lagoon. The pool of grief.
“Thank you. It doesn’t get any easier,” she says, taking a sip of her tea.
“My brother died five days ago, and I don’t see it ever getting better. Only worse,” I respond, trusting her implicitly for some reason and simultaneously wanting to tell her everything that’s ever happened to me while watching historic romantic comedies. Maybe after a day of shoe shopping.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, hugging me.
“Thank you. Maybe they’ve met up there.” My eyes travel to the ceiling and I take a sip of tea.
“I bet they did,” she replies knowingly.
“We were gonna meet up with my brother in town this afternoon for lunch. We can pick him up and bring him with us, then get lunch after. If that’s okay with you?” She takes my empty teacup and hers to the sink.
“Of course,” I reply. “I’m the one asking for the favor. I’m at your mercy.”
“Sounds good.” She wipes her hands on a dishtowel and calls up the stairs, “Hey you guys…” A quote from the movie, The Goonies. “We gotta hit the road. Reesy, everyone ready?”
“Just about, Mom,” a voice squeaks from above. There’s shuffling at the top of the staircase.
“Stop. I don’t want to wear that,” a tiny boy voice.
“Too bad, Axel, just put it on,” Reese says.
I Am the Storm Page 12
