Gaia's Secret (3 page)

But I had, however, killed the conversation,
so I went back to my dessert.

“Are you still riding?” Sonya asked. The
smile had returned to her face, but I could see the unease in her
eyes.

“Yes.” I gripped my spoon tighter. “Every
day.”

“How wonderful.”

This avoidance of discussing college was
becoming irritating. “Yeah, it’s a nice
hobby
.”

Sonya’s gaze flitted to my dad, and Dad
cleared his throat. “She’s fast too. I can’t even keep up with
her.”

“Get used to it.” Cicero grinned. “We
certainly aren’t getting any younger.”

They all chuckled. Whatever had them so
uptight and uncomfortable was forgotten, and they began an
exclusive discussion about the inevitable woes of the aging
process.

My hope sank. Apparently the topic of my
future wasn’t on Dad’s mind. He still wasn’t ready to talk about
college, or jobs, or anything about my future, and the Andersons
were going to respect that. But if my future wasn’t weighing down
on him, what was?

An obnoxious chirping interrupted the
chatter. It was Dad’s phone. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced
at the screen, and froze.

“It’s Stefan.” He frowned as his wary eyes
found mine. “Princess, mind if I talk to Cicero and Sonya in
private?”

“Oh…sure. That’s fine.” I started to get up
from my seat.

“No, dear.” Sonya stood. “You stay here.
Alex?” A knowing look passed between them.

“I’ll stay with Daria.” He leaned back in the
chaise lounge. “Fill me in later.”

That was strange. Alex had never been
included in their business transactions before. Sonya and Cicero
followed my dad from the room, leaving me with my favorite person,
Alex.

I stared at the blazing fire, whose crackling
and spitting sounded particularly loud.

This wasn’t going at all how I’d planned. I
was to come here with Dad and spend a nice, leisurely afternoon
eating dessert with Cicero and Sonya. There wasn’t even the hint of
Alex being in that picture. In fact, he was supposed to be in
another country.

I braved a glance up. He was watching me, but
his expression was unreadable. Alex had always been as transparent
as a window, and this constant mask of emotion was making me lose
my nerve. I dropped my gaze and became so self-conscious that I
scrutinized every movement of the fork in my hands. Frustrated, I
let the fork fall with a clank on the plate and set my dessert on
the table.

“Have your tastes…
changed
?” It was
that man-voice again, and this time it was tinged with
amusement.

“I’m full.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his
knees. His eyes searched mine, but for what, I didn’t know.

My face felt hot and the creases in my joints
began sweating.

Dang it, Daria, stop acting so ridiculous.
You know what he’s doing. Probing. Sticking out his feelers. Trying
to find a weakness to manipulate you again.

He glanced at my plate. “You were never too
full for that.”

I didn’t like being reminded of how well he
knew me, and I hated it coming from him. Fury pulsed through my
veins. “And you were never one for small talk. So where does that
leave us?”

He studied me a moment before leaning back in
his chair, his features even more guarded than before. I glared at
him in silence. I wouldn’t buy it today, no matter how pretty his
shell had become. I knew the truth, and this time I had the upper
hand.

He continued to sit, silent with his
thoughts—all of which he kept to himself. He was waiting for me.
Waiting to see my next move.

So I moved.

I got to my feet and left the room.

It was better he didn’t see me so weak and
unnerved by him. Why was he here anyway?

He lives here, stupid. What are you doing
here?

I hated my conscience sometimes.

Once I reached the heavy oak doors to the
library, I paused, sighing in relief. I pushed them open with a
creak, tiptoed inside and closed them behind me.

I loved this room. Enormous dark, wooden
bookshelves covered the walls, all crammed with books—there was
even a ladder to reach those on the topmost shelves. Many of them
were history books. Cicero was both a lover and collector of any
manuscript written about a time other than the present. His
influence was the primary spark of my own infatuation.

Two tall, narrow windows with window seats
stood along one wall, separated by a large canvas of Yosemite’s
Bridal Veil Falls. I’d never seen the real falls in person because
no one ever bothered taking me there. But this portrait was so
vivid and lifelike that I never felt I needed to go, like this
frame was the magical window to a beautiful world.

Being in this room put my nerves at ease. In
here, I could escape my own head and spend time in someone else’s.
And right now, I desperately needed someone else’s to help me get
my mind off of
him
.

I made my way to the sliding ladder, my
fingers trailing the smooth wood. This ladder wasn’t the original.
I’d broken that one after jumping up the rungs, despite Alex’s
warning. I had climbed up pretty high, too, so the fall hurt. After
being assaulted with “I told you so’s”, Alex had built this one,
and I had helped him stain it.

The memory assaulted me as I climbed to the
top, where our names were chiseled in the wood. Alex’s name was
legible; he’d always been so good with tools. But mine looked more
like “Dam” than “Daria.”

Maybe coming in here wasn’t such a good
idea.

I scanned the books on the top shelf for
The Count of Monte Cristo
, and found it in its usual spot,
between a dragon-shaped bookend and
Treasure Island
. This
part of the library was what I’d always referred to as the
“adventure section” and for that reason it was my favorite. Dad
didn’t let me out much, but even he couldn’t control the trouble I
got myself into on paper.

Grabbing the copy, I climbed back down the
ladder and curled into the corner of the window seat. I didn’t
remember having so much space when I was younger, probably because
Alex would always cram into it with me then.

I shoved away the memory, flipped on the
reading lamp, and began to read.

My plan was to lose myself in Edmond Dantes’
betrayal, but my thoughts kept flitting back to Alex. He looked so
different. Sounded so different. And I’d acted…

I flipped through the book, forcing myself to
think about anything but Alex, when a slip of paper fell to the
floor. I bent over to pick it up. When I opened the single fold, my
stomach turned. It was Alex’s handwriting.

Daria--

There is so much I want to say to
you. I know you sense my distance, and I wish I could explain
it. Until then, I need you to do something--something that may help
you understand. Go to the desk. Underneath the top panel, push
upward. You’ll find a key. Take the key to the portrait of Bridal
Veil Falls. Along the bottom of the frame you’ll find a keyhole.
Try it. Make sure no one sees you.

I’m sorry.

--Alex

I read the note again. When did he write
this? It must’ve been before he left because the ink had faded, and
the paper had yellowed slightly.

Overwhelmed by curiosity, I walked to the
desk and set my book down. I read the note again, following his
directions, and soon enough, sitting in the dark space between
panels, was a rusted, bronze skeleton key. It was the kind of key
no one used any more, you know, the kind that was the size of your
hand and unlocked some secret treasure. I rushed to the painting
and found a large keyhole. All these years, and I had never noticed
it.

I slid the key into the keyhole, and turned.
With a satisfying click, the painting swung forward on a hinge,
leaving behind a large, gaping black hole in the thick stone
wall.

“What in the world…”

A cool draft touched my face. I was staring
at the top of a narrow, circular staircase that wound down,
disappearing into darkness. I grabbed a flashlight from the desk
and hurried back to the painting.

My boots scraped on the stone as I made my
way down, step by careful step, ending at a wooden door with a
single bronze knob. The knob turned easily and the door creaked
inward an inch. Whatever lay beyond was hidden in darkness. I
hesitated, afraid to open the door any further as my heart drummed
in my ears.

Calm down. Alex wouldn’t try and kill you,
not even back then.

Inhaling a deep breath of stale and musty
air, I gripped my flashlight, pushed the door in and stepped
inside.

All along the walls were shelves of books and
lots of eerie shadows. Too many for my comfort. I moved forward,
eyes alert.

Strange. There was no dust—no cobwebs. It
looked like this room was used, and often.

A few antiquated portraits hung along the
walls, each canvas depicting someone of power from centuries long
ago. They looked like they belonged in a museum. An engraved golden
plate was fastened to the bottom of each, all members of some
Regius family. I didn’t remember ever learning about them.

I trailed the light along the book spines.
Gaia’s Potentate Directives
,
Guide of Militant
Stratagems, Magic and its Proper Uses,
Prophetic Verses
.
I paused in front of one in particular:
The Creatures of
Shadow
.

Curious, I pulled it from the shelf and
lifted the stiff leather cover. The binding creaked as it opened,
and the pages were stiff as I turned them. I held my flashlight
over a page filled with “B”. Balcan, Banshee, Barghest…

A horrid drawing stared back at me; it was a
hellion of a hairless dog, fangs exposed, with blood-red eyes.
Beneath it was a description.

Barghest: Created by the Dark Sorcerers
during the Great Deception to destroy all that is of light.
Banished to the great depths of Mortis for their insatiable thirst
for light’s destruction.

I shut the book and returned it to the shelf.
Scary drawings didn’t do much for me, and never in the dark.

A strange sensation swept over me, like
something was tugging at my consciousness. Very slowly, I turned
around. My eyes settled on a large globe sitting atop a wooden
stand in the corner. And the globe was…turning.

My heart beat faster as my eyes darted around
the room, searching for life.

Nothing. I was down here alone.

Then how was the globe spinning?

I took a few cautious steps forward, my mind
drawn to the strange object. The surface of the miniature Earth
depicted topography, but as I studied it, I realized it wasn’t
Earth at all. There was a single giant landmass and a few smaller
lands separated by strange seas. A thick smear of white settled
over a piece of the largest landmass. I stretched out my pointer
finger to touch it and gasped. It felt cold and damp,
like…mist.

Impossible. Globes didn’t depict the
weather.

Footsteps echoed from somewhere close.
Someone was coming.

I sprinted for the door. Just as I went to
close it, I looked back at the globe. A small spark flickered where
the smudge had been. That spark had looked like lightning.

I slammed the door and bolted up the
stairs.

The footsteps in the hallway had almost
reached the door. I swung the portrait shut, locked it, and hurried
to return the key. I just managed to shove it inside when the
library door opened.

A
lex stepped inside,
closing the door behind him. His eyes flitted to the canvas, and
then settled on me with an arched brow. “Not enough light?”

The flashlight. I forgot to put it away. How
was I going to explain this one? “It was dark by the window.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the window
seat with the LED shining brightly. “I…see.”

You’ve got to do better than that.

I had no idea what to say. I’d just
discovered something he wanted me to find years ago, but all I felt
was anger. Anger at him for leaving, anger at him for lying, anger
that, after all these years, I was still angry.

“Time for me to leave?” I asked.

His gaze moved back to mine. “No.”

A cold cloud of awkwardness settled in the
room. His presence seemed to fill the empty spaces, making it a
tight fit for me. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? I had come here
to spare him the misery of my company, and to spare myself the pain
of his.

“Do you need to use the room or something?” I
asked.

He opened his mouth to speak, but thought the
better of whatever he was about to say and closed his lips. A
flourish of emotions passed over his face, but the distance quickly
returned. He glanced back at the desk and curiosity flickered
through his eyes. And then, he walked further into the room.

There was a sort of grace to his step, one
that made him seem light and agile despite his strength. He
continued past me and paused at the desk, thumbing the cover of the
book I’d been trying to read.

One corner of his lips turned upwards as he
glanced at me. “Aren’t you tired of this one yet?”

At his grin, something snapped inside of me.
“What I’m tired of is
you
. Quit acting like everything’s
fine when it’s not. You’re nothing but a liar. And if I’d actually
known you were going to be here, I never would’ve come.” The heat
inside me burned with fury I couldn’t contain. “I hate you.”

My words slapped the grin from his face, and
I wanted to take them back.

He stood tall and unmoving, hard eyes locked
on mine. I tried to ignore the sharp fingertips of guilt that were
already poking at my heart. He had deserved it because all of it
was true. Every last word.