Nightwish (An Echoes of Eternity Novel Book 1) (6 page)

“She’s three times stronger than me. But why did I get powers on my twenty-first birthday? Why not when I turned sixteen? Or sixty?”

“The reason each firstborn female in our line acquires our powers after her first period is because it’s considered a rite of passage. Now it’s almost a curse: but children were much more mature in the seventeenth-century. Siblings will often fight out of envy or jealousy, so Zephora decided to stretch out the amount of time sisters obtain their abilities.” She paused. “At one time Zephora was virtuous and responsible, but somehow, she lost her way, turned evil and unrepentant.” She shook those thoughts aside. “Nevertheless, she considered twenty-one must’ve been an acceptable age.”

Grams paused. “Do you feel any different from yesterday?”

“No. But it’s been a crazy day. Oh, wait. I felt Alexis reading my mind.”

“Good.” Grams released a relieved smile. “A normal human can’t detect that sensibility.”

“Why do only girls get these abilities? Why not guys? Don’t they have gifts? Aren’t there any wizards around?”

“No,” said Grams. “The women in our line only give birth to girls.”

That sounded preposterous. “Why? How?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re saying for 325 years, every woman in our line has given birth to a girl and none of them have delivered a boy? That’s impossible!”

“Highly improbable? Yes. Impossible? Not when magic exists. It tends to manipulate events based on those magical beings who call upon it. I look forward to uncovering the truth when I cross over. But for now, no one knows why. Our line only produces females. It’s so expected that everyone in the line has given up fighting what seems will always be.”

I had a difficult time trying to understand that one, so I moved on to a more pressing issue. “You said there wasn’t time to tell me everything, and now you think you’ll be leaving soon.”

“I’ll hang on as long as I can.”

“That means…you’ll pass away soon?”

Grams shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. Concentrate on what you can control.”

“But you taught me that we can’t control everything.”

She smiled and nodded. “You always were a good listener.”

Her confidence in me sparked another question. “Do you know what powers I have?”

“If you used them, I’d be able to sense the residue from your actions, but since you haven’t done so…” She shrugged. “Remember this though: our line has no history of twins. You and Alexis have not followed the natural path. So I have no idea what powers you might have or what you two might be capable of.”

“Grams,” I said. “I understand why you didn’t tell me, but it doesn’t sound too convincing. There has to be another reason.”

She clamped her lips together as though fearing that she’d rebuke me. A dark grimace flashed across her face. After a few moments, she said, “When you were a toddler, I revealed one of my abilities to you…and you were absolutely terrified. At that moment, I decided to wait until you
needed
to know. That day is today.”

I didn’t recall the incident that Grams referred to. “Why do my mother and sister hate me?”

“Because they feel you might have more power than Alexis. So they fear you.”

“But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Yes, but they do.”

“What? Why? I don’t understand.”

“Delphine is one of Zephora’s disciples. As I said, I don’t know if they’ve been in contact, but I wouldn’t doubt it. Because Alexis looks up to your mother, she has also followed that path. But to lessen some of your worries, a mother cannot harm her children. Magic won’t allow it. That was one smart rule that Zephora put into place.”

“That means what? Delphine won’t attack me but my sister might? Why? I’m not a threat to her.”

“Your mother thinks you are, so your sister thinks the same.”

“I don’t know anything about being a witch. How can I be a threat to anyone?”

“Common sense doesn’t matter when it comes to Delphine. What matters is what she thinks and how she feels. After all these years, I’ve never been able to understand what she wants or why.” Her face grew stern. “Stay away from her and Alexis, but practice your abilities—once you discover them.”

“How do I do that? Hop on a broom and fly over to Hogwarts for a one-on-one with Hermione?”

She gave me an impatient look.

“Sorry. How do I protect myself?”

A grave expression appeared on her face. “By killing them before they kill you!”

CHAPTER FIVE

An hour later, after taking a taxi to Grams’s shop,
The Antique Boutique
, a small business operation that she’d run since I was a child, we stood at the front of the shop. The room was filled with nondescript items: a dusty iron serving plate from the 1920s, a 19
th
century bicycle, dolls from the American Revolution, and so many more esoteric items that few would want on any given day, except collectors who must have resorted to searching for like-minded items on eBay, because I’ve never seen customers enter the shop.

I’d spent very few days here with Grams. Then as now, I had no idea how Grams remained in business within such a tiny building that smelled of stale bubblegum. She’d assured me that most of her business transactions occurred each morning, since senior citizens were often interested in antiques, and many of them rose early.

To my amazement, Grams never failed to meet her financial obligations. We always had a roof over our heads, clothes to wear, and food on the table. Even though she only operated the shop during the business week, she closed up at 3:00 PM daily. I’d concluded that she hid something significant from me. It always seemed odd that she’d close after my school days had ended, regardless of the grade level. After a while, I presumed that she just wanted to spend time with me, since we only had each other.

“This is where it shall begin,” Grams said. “And end, given your perspective.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The beginning of the end.” She let out a deep breath, as though expelling years of exhaustion. “Thank heavens!”

That admission baffled me. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, you
shall
.” A wicked grin appeared.

I had no idea what she meant, but the certainty in her voice splintered my support. On one hand, I wanted to believe Grams, who had never let me down. On the other, she sounded like a raving lunatic. Why would I kill my mother and sister? How could I trust one word out of Grams’s mouth? But I only had experience to guide me, so in the end, I did my best to reign in my fear.

“I don’t understand,” I repeated, hoping that would encourage her to explain things.

“Time will reveal the mysteries that confound you.” A vibrant smirk took hold of her, and she laughed as though anyone who dared dispute her would perish in the flames of hell.

Oh, not again! Grams’s true self had retreated and what I now referred to as
The Intruder
had taken her place. Her response and her expression seemed so out of character that I didn’t take her statement seriously. Nevertheless, I heeded her advice, no matter how ludicrous it seemed. Even though she wasn’t in her right mind, I needed to play along to get any answers she might provide.

“Grams, what’s going on?”

When she didn’t respond, I ignored her demented smile and looked elsewhere, only to discover something completely unexpected: instead of marking the end of the shop, the back wall shimmered in a purplish haze, revealing another room beyond it.

Until today, a white concrete wall had taken up that space, although the door that led to the alley still remained to the right. I closed my eyes and looked again…only to see the same glimmering barrier. “How is that possible?”

“Pardon me?” Grams asked, oblivious. She yanked out a pile of manila folders from a drawer at the front desk. Then she looked up at me with a crazed expression. “How is what possible?” She returned her attention to the paperwork on the counter.

Since she’d looked up at me, Grams should have seen the room at the other end of the shop. Perhaps her vision had failed her. But even then, she would have noticed the purple effervescence. At the moment, however, the secret room captured my attention, so I walked down the corridor and approached the wall, watching it ripple and glean. But I couldn’t quite identify what lay inside the room.

“Ah, the peculiarities of youth,” Grams said. “If you continue on as such, I shall place a call to the constable and ensure that you are locked in chains and restricted to an asylum.”

Constable?
Then her remark registered. She thought I was nuts. She’d threatened to call the cops on me! I turned around, but she stood behind the front counter, rifling through one folder after another, searching for something she must have misplaced. I wanted to hurry over and bicker with her again, but the pull of this miraculous discovery made me think twice.

I spun around and stepped up to the secret chamber. Extending a hand and reaching toward the glittering structure, my fingertip touched its translucence. A jolt of tempered electricity shot through my fingers and up my arm. I pulled my hand back, expecting great pain, but it reminded me of the rollers in a massage chair. What would it feel like if that sensation traveled through my entire body?

I pressed my fingers into the shimmering wall. Cool vibration swept through my hand, up my arm, across my shoulder, and into my chest. Those body parts tingled with bliss. I closed my eyes, wanting to get lost in the sensation.

“Are you partaking in hallucinogenic substances?” Grams asked.

I glanced back, expecting her to notice the hidden chamber.

Without waiting for a response, Grams said, “I have had enough of your impropriety. I am taking leave this instant!” She snatched her purse and headed towards the front exit. “I trust that you will see yourself out?” A second later, she slammed the door behind her.

My shoulders relaxed knowing
The Intruder
had disappeared. Nevertheless, that brought about a different question: if Grams’s memory had failed her, would she wander the streets, unable to find her way home? Then I recalled placing her wallet, which contained her license, into her purse this morning. Even if confusion took hold of her, she’d look for her license; I’d seen her do it countless times, so my worry subsided.

I faced the room again. Since I never gave in to hesitation, I stepped into the wall, eager to find out what might happen. The electrifying feeling engulfed me, making every body part more sensitive, more alert. Through a lavender sheen, I saw transparent glass cases filled with objects, but I didn’t recognize them.

Eager to discover what those cases held, I continued through the shimmery wall. The sensation that inundated me slowly left my body, and fluorescent lights overhead lit four walls of glass-encased weaponry.

Behind me on rows of glass were various rifles and handguns. Moving on, I saw swords, blades, spears, and scythes. Opposite that: crossbows, bow and arrows, and kamas. The final wall featured nunchucks, throwing stars, and sias. I identified each of these weapons because Master Nakamura had introduced each of these weapons and more into my training, after our regular sessions ended, upon which I both attacked with and defended against these weapons. In total, the case held weapons from the last four centuries across every region on Earth. Each weapon glistened as though prepped for an impending battle.

How had Grams obtained these weapons? And why had she assembled them? Even more important, how did she fit an entire room within one foot of brick wall? An easy explanation formed: magic. Now I disregarded the obvious, as well as the physics behind this feat.

In the middle of the room, my hip bumped against a hard-edged, invisible rectangular structure…at least according to my eyes, since I couldn’t see it. Yet it didn’t wobble from the impact. I reached out until my fingers tapped a smooth, solid box that felt cool to the touch, indicating that, like everything else in this room, it was encased in glass.

I swept both hands across the entire case, which rose up to my chest, but I didn’t find any creases, buttons, or switches that might allow me to find out what was inside. Mystified but fascinated, I wanted to shove it or kick it to discover whatever the case protected.

But someone, most likely Grams, wouldn’t have charmed the box with invisibility without good reason. Likewise, she wouldn’t have made it impossible to release whatever lay inside. Otherwise, why not just destroy it?

But Grams had made the item invisible…inside an invisible room. That explained Grams’s second ability: the gift of rendering items invisible. She must have regarded whatever lay inside as very important and potentially dangerous…in the wrong hands.

I couldn’t avoid the most logical explanation: Grams had crafted a spell to prevent others from seeing the room. Given that, at some point in the last twenty years, one person or another must have bumped into the wall…only to fall into the chamber.

That’s when I recalled Grams stating that only people with a sixth sense even noticed supernatural powers. It meant only those with paranormal sensitivity could see the room, much less walk inside. Grams had certainly withheld quite a bit over the past two decades, probably for my own good, but it annoyed me that I had to soak up so much knowledge with very little time to process it all. And right now, I wanted to know why Grams had stored these weapons in an invisible room.

I walked toward the violet curtain, and stepped through it, paying no attention to the pleasant sensation it evoked. I came out on the other side.

The front door opened, and Grams stepped back inside. She sighed heavily and glared at me. “I cannot recall the directions to return to my residence.”

“What if I don’t want my powers?”

“Such preposterous discourse! You cannot simply return your gifts at a local market.”

“Well, if I lost my receipt, of course not.”

She stared at me, clueless to the meaning of my play on words.

I didn’t trust
The Intruder
with the secret room, and since Grams told me to trust my intuition, I decided to heed her advice.

“Your abilities are a privilege. Your ancestors would be appalled by your disrespect.”

My
real
Grams would never have disregarded my feelings so thoughtlessly. Earlier, I’d assumed that she and my new family members had created a cocktail of rage and frustration then hurled it at me. In response, a claustrophobic frenzy seemed to have entrenched itself in every molecule of my body. I gasped for air, unable to restrain all of the anger that had overwhelmed me. I just wanted her out of sight.

“You parked across the street,” I said. “The red Hyundai Elantra. The directions are on the passenger seat.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, bewildered. She remained in place for a few more seconds before adding, “Then I shall take leave.” With that, she headed toward the door, opened it, stepped into the threshold, and swung back to me. “Would you be so inclined to operate the mechanized structure of which you speak, this Hyundai, to see me home?”

“Hmmm, based on our pleasant conversations today, that’s one hell of a tempting offer. But I’m gonna go with…no!” Despite her negativity and patronizing behavior, I admonished myself for mistreating Grams: I needed to blame the disease…not her. “I’m sorry for being short with you. You go ahead. I’ll be home later.”

“Of course.” Uncertainty clouded her face for a moment before a steely expression took hold. She turned around and exited the shop.

As for Grams’s wavering demeanor, I assumed that Alzheimer’s and magic didn’t mix well. I didn’t have any other theories. Then an obvious thought popped into my head: in the past, during these memory lapses, Grams had never remembered me. But today, while she switched between herself…and
The Intruder
, she recognized me without any difficulty. She just acted differently.

But why? Obviously, something wasn’t right. Perhaps slowing the aging process had deteriorated her mind, resulting in splintered realities. I didn’t know what captured my imagination more: getting to the bottom of that mystery…or discovering what was inside the box in the middle of the secret chamber.