ears, threatening to explode. I stared trance-like at the space where Roman once stood, but he’d completely vanished with the bubble, like a breath of fog blown away by a harsh, sudden wind.
Chapter Nine
After getting the third degree from Aunt Eva about the day’s events and somehow answering her questions—or should I say, interrogation—to her satisfaction, I excused myself to my room. I closed and locked the door, pressing my head against it a minute. My shoulders slumped as if heavy buckets of rocks sat on them. I dropped my bag and slid to the floor beside my bed. Somehow that day I’d managed to find an alien-like book I wasn’t sure what to make of, hurt a great guy’s feelings, and discovered another was far more than I’d expected.
It was too much information to sort through. Roman had said he was my guardian. But what was he guarding me from ? I brooded over how he could have created the bubble surrounding us—and then freeze everyone else—like a force field or something. I thought about all the running and moving my family had done for as long as I could remember. I both hoped and worried at the same time that maybe it was over now. One part of me hoped, yearned for a normal existence. The other part of me, the one that worried, fixated that normal wasn’t a word in my vocabulary and now that someone found us, perhaps only the worst was yet to come.
I considered going downstairs and fessing up to my parents about what happened and then start the inevitable panic of packing and moving to some other isolated location. I didn’t know who Roman really was, and that scared me. Maybe taking off was a good idea after all.
But if Roman was part of my family’s tormenters, then why was I still alive and why did he let me go? If he were there to hurt me, he had every opportunity to, but didn’t. Besides, if I told my parents and we took off I’d still never know anything. They sure as hell wouldn’t tell me. I wondered what kind of magic he pulled off. It was like he conjured a kind of spell or something. Conjuration …I bolted upright. I remembered reading the same word from the odd book on ancient witchcraft.
My eyes shifted to my bag beside me on the floor. My stomach lurched as I reached for it and carefully lifted the flap, peering inside. The old book sat there, unmoving. I reached in, jerked it out, and tossed it onto the floor. Nothing. I sighed with relief. The snake coiled around the dagger looked as cheap and harmless as a dollar store trinket.
When I opened the crumbling book, I fanned through the decaying pages and an odor crept into my nostrils like smog off a swamp. The thought of what I’d find written on the pages electrified me. Both exciting and terrifying at the same time—like going down a roller coaster. I took a deep breath. On several pages were drawings. People sat around a table holding hands, glowing spheres, and caldrons emitting steam surrounded them. Typical folklore stuff. But then, as one page fanned by, I caught a glimpse of a girl holding a golden dagger.
A girl. Holding a dagger. With a snake on it.
I slammed the book shut, needing air. I rushed to my window and opened it, inhaling deeply, trying unsuccessfully to slow my heart rate. The backyard bloomed full of lush trees and an orange tree showed the promise of yielding tons of fruit soon. I knew I wouldn’t be around to see them grow. I could only imagine what it would be like to pick an orange from this yard. What I wouldn’t give for just one day of normalcy. But that wasn’t my life. I wound the handle on the window, closing it.
I glanced back at the book and balled my hands into fists. I didn’t want to live in denial any more. My parents had subjected me to a shroud of naivety my whole life.
I dropped to my knees in front of the book, scanning through the pages until I found the one with the girl holding the snake dagger again. My hands trembled but I kept it open. The girl’s raven colored
Chapter Nine
After getting the third degree from Aunt Eva about the day’s events and somehow answering her questions—or should I say, interrogation—to her satisfaction, I excused myself to my room. I closed and locked the door, pressing my head against it a minute. My shoulders slumped as if heavy buckets of rocks sat on them. I dropped my bag and slid to the floor beside my bed. Somehow that day I’d managed to find an alien-like book I wasn’t sure what to make of, hurt a great guy’s feelings, and discovered another was far more than I’d expected.
It was too much information to sort through. Roman had said he was my guardian. But what was he guarding me from ? I brooded over how he could have created the bubble surrounding us—and then freeze everyone else—like a force field or something. I thought about all the running and moving my family had done for as long as I could remember. I both hoped and worried at the same time that maybe it was over now. One part of me hoped, yearned for a normal existence. The other part of me, the one that worried, fixated that normal wasn’t a word in my vocabulary and now that someone found us, perhaps only the worst was yet to come.
I considered going downstairs and fessing up to my parents about what happened and then start the inevitable panic of packing and moving to some other isolated location. I didn’t know who Roman really was, and that scared me. Maybe taking off was a good idea after all.
But if Roman was part of my family’s tormenters, then why was I still alive and why did he let me go? If he were there to hurt me, he had every opportunity to, but didn’t. Besides, if I told my parents and we took off I’d still never know anything. They sure as hell wouldn’t tell me. I wondered what kind of magic he pulled off. It was like he conjured a kind of spell or something. Conjuration …I bolted upright. I remembered reading the same word from the odd book on ancient witchcraft.
My eyes shifted to my bag beside me on the floor. My stomach lurched as I reached for it and carefully lifted the flap, peering inside. The old book sat there, unmoving. I reached in, jerked it out, and tossed it onto the floor. Nothing. I sighed with relief. The snake coiled around the dagger looked as cheap and harmless as a dollar store trinket.
When I opened the crumbling book, I fanned through the decaying pages and an odor crept into my nostrils like smog off a swamp. The thought of what I’d find written on the pages electrified me. Both exciting and terrifying at the same time—like going down a roller coaster. I took a deep breath. On several pages were drawings. People sat around a table holding hands, glowing spheres, and caldrons emitting steam surrounded them. Typical folklore stuff. But then, as one page fanned by, I caught a glimpse of a girl holding a golden dagger.
A girl. Holding a dagger. With a snake on it.
I slammed the book shut, needing air. I rushed to my window and opened it, inhaling deeply, trying unsuccessfully to slow my heart rate. The backyard bloomed full of lush trees and an orange tree showed the promise of yielding tons of fruit soon. I knew I wouldn’t be around to see them grow. I could only imagine what it would be like to pick an orange from this yard. What I wouldn’t give for just one day of normalcy. But that wasn’t my life. I wound the handle on the window, closing it.
I glanced back at the book and balled my hands into fists. I didn’t want to live in denial any more. My parents had subjected me to a shroud of naivety my whole life.
I dropped to my knees in front of the book, scanning through the pages until I found the one with the girl holding the snake dagger again. My hands trembled but I kept it open. The girl’s raven colored
Similar Books
