Chasing Shadows (38 page)

We sat there talking, laughing, and enjoying the peaceful moment. There was no talk about the shadows, plans to defeat them, or Clamora. We talked about plans for a happy future together, how many kids we wanted to have, and about the big mortal wedding my mom wanted us to have. When we were finished talking about the future and more logs were added to the fire, we lay down and cuddled up to each other.

“Tell me your favorite memory as a child.” Sebastian said.

“Why?” I laughed softly.

“Because the memories you were playing through have me intrigued.” He smiled down at me.

“Okay,” I nodded. It took me minute to think of my favorite one. There were so many happy moments in my childhood, so many that made me laugh and smile when I thought about them today. “It’s hard to choose, but I think I’ve got one.” I laughed before I even started talking. “I was ten and Zany was twelve, and Melly had just been born. We were outside playing around the big tree in the backyard, and we had this big tire swing hanging off one the bigger branches. I had been swinging on the swing and he had climbed up in the tree and was pretty high up there, maybe fifteen feet off the ground. Anyway, he was up there and we were playing I Spy. And when we were little, he was scared of squirrels for some reason. He’s pretty much over it now, but he would run screaming and crying if one was near him or in the big tree when he wanted to play on it. So he was high up in this tree and I was sitting on the tire swing, and I heard it before I saw it. When I turned around, there was this squirrel and it had its cheeks all stuffed with nuts and it cocked its head then ran up the tree. I was yelling at Zany to get down or else he was going to fall out of the tree, and he didn’t believe me at first, but when he finally gave in to me, he turned and the squirrel was on the branch with him!” I started laughing at the memory. “Poor Zany was stuck up in the tree fifteen feet above the ground. My mom called us for lunch, and I had to run in the house and tell her he was cornered by a squirrel. Her eyes got big then she let out a small chuckle and ran outside to get him out of the tree. She had to get the trampoline and drag it under him so he could fall out of the tree without hurting himself. My big, tough protector brother was stuck in a tree because he was cornered by a squirrel!” I laughed hard and kept picturing his blue eyes filled with terror because of a small bushy-tailed rodent.

“That is definitely something I would have liked to have seen.” Sebastian smiled.

“Oh, it was funny.” I wiped at the tears from laughing so hard. “When my mom told my dad what had happened that night at the dinner table, he choked on his food because he wanted to laugh. We still tease Zany every now and then about it.” I smiled and looked at Sebastian. “Tell me your favorite memory from your childhood.”

“All right, let me see if I can remember a good one.” He closed his eyes and wrinkled his face in concentration. “Ah, I got it.” His lips pulled up into the beautifully wicked smile I adored. “When I was younger, my father brought me back to the States to meet my mother’s family. They all thought that I looked like her. My grandfather, my mom’s dad, took us into his home, and I remember being so excited about staying in a mud and sapling hut with nothing but furs to keep me warm at night. He gave my dad and me each a pair of moccasins and some pelts to wear instead of our European clothes. I loved them, the feel of not having to worry about getting my clothing dirty. I ran around the village like a free native boy. The entire tribe loved me.” His eyes lit up with joy as he relived the memory of meeting the other part of his family. “One day, my grandfather pulled me aside and told me about fishing. He was going to take me and my dad out to the river so we could catch some fish. We went in a canoe with spears. There were hundreds of fish where my grandfather took us, and we sat in the canoe all day spearing fish. My dad caught a few, my grandfather caught plenty, and I caught one. It was a small little thing, and I looked to my grandfather to see what I was supposed to do. He placed his hand on my shoulder and told me not to be discouraged. He also told me that since the fish was already hurt from my spear that we had to keep it and eat it. After he convinced me to end its suffering, he said a prayer over the fish’s soul.

“We went back to the village after that, we had a powwow, and everyone told stories of our ancestors and the Great Spirit. One of the little girls there sat by my side throughout the evening. She laughed when she found out which fish was mine, and she said the same thing my grandfather did. But she also boasted about her abilities. They all taught me to dance like the warriors, and my father smiled bigger than I had ever seen in my life. And when the night died down and I was laid to bed, I dreamt of living a life with the native people, with my family. But it was just a dream, and if I wouldn’t have returned with my father, I never would have been where I am today.” He smiled at me and kissed my forehead.

Sebastian and I kept telling stories of our childhood, laughing at our silly accidents and turning somber when we described a sorrow that had happened. Night had fallen outside, and our fire was dying down to embers. The tray was now almost empty, only little bits of cheese and fruit remained, and our glasses were drained. The day that we had shared was beautiful and sweet. Secrets had been revealed, along with fears and concerns. But we always stayed away from one topic and anything that revolved around that topic, the u da yv la dv.

A yawn escaped my mouth and my limbs stretched outward. Sebastian stood up and took my hand, lifting me off the ground. My eyes felt heavy, and another yawn escaped me. I shook my head, trying to force the sleep away, but it didn’t help. We climbed the stairs and headed to our room. Without changing, I flopped on the bed and shivered. Strong arms picked me up and pulled the covers back, placed me back down on the soft bed, and covered me with the comforter. Mumbling thanks, I snuggled in deeper into the pillows and blankets and went to sleep.

Solid white surrounded me. I looked around for a sign of someone or something, but there was nothing, just sheer emptiness. Chills ran up and down my body. There was a feeling of exposure, like I was being watched under a microscope. I walked forward with no idea where I was going or where I would end up. A small door appeared a few yards away from me, and I hurried my steps.

“I would wait before you open that door, AubrieAnna.” Her voice was familiar, and I knew who it was before I turned around.

“Mrs. Summer, what are you doing here, what am I doing here?” I inquired.

“I created this dream; it’s a bridge that I have created to speak with you. It’s the most private place that we can talk, away from prying eyes and minds.” The last part was spoken with a hint that Sebastian liked to pry into my mind.

“Okay, what do we need to talk about? And why shouldn’t I go through that door?” I sat down on the ground with a small huff.

“That door will remove you from this dream, and we need to speak about a plan for getting you into the shadows’ world.” She sat down in front of me with her legs crossed.

“My grandma gave me a spell that will disguise me as one of their own. All I need is for you or another half-blood to get me to the entrance of their world.” I looked at her. It was the first time in a few days that I had seen her, and she looked ill. “Are you dying?” I asked quietly.

“We will get you there, even if I have to do it myself.” She looked to her right and swallowed hard. “And yes, the illness that plagues my people is started to plague me.” Mrs. Summer kept her head high when she spoke, just like she did in class.

“I want to help you and the other half-bloods. I have a spell and a potion that will help you, all of you. All I need is a week to get the potion ready and I need a head count,” I offered.

“I know you want to help, but everyone who has tried to help has either gotten killed or drained beyond recognition. It takes an abundance of power to heal our race.” She spoke with a hint of sadness in her tone that was almost undetectable.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but I am not a normal supernatural creature. I have three different kinds in me. I can do it, I know I can,” I fought back. I wanted to help them; I needed to help them.

“All right then. I shall get a head count and get it to you as soon as possible.” She let go of her argument.

“Can you have it ready by tomorrow?” I asked hopefully.

“I can.” She cocked her head to one side then straightened it. “Why do you need it so soon?”

“So I can save your race before the world turns to shit.” I stood up and walked toward the door. Before I turned the doorknob, I turned to look at her and nodded.

Sometime in my sleep I had kicked off the blankets and had managed to get one sock off my feet. Sebastian was sound asleep next to me, and small cat snores came from the foot of the bed. Trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake either of them, I crawled out of bed and changed into shorts and a light T-shirt. A chill came through the room, and I quickly hunkered down into bed and under the blankets once again. After a few minutes of lying there and thinking, I finally fell back to sleep, this time without any dreams.

Irritating buzzing sounds filtered into the blackness of slumber, and I rolled over with a cranky growl. Helios jumped on my back and began kneading at me to make himself a comfortable bed. I wriggled to get him to jump off, and he did, only to crawl onto my pillow and lick my face with his sandpaper tongue. Grumbling some more, I wrenched myself upright and looked around the room. Sebastian was in the shower and the alarm was still going off. I reached over and slammed down on the off button then sat there, petting my cat.

It took me a while to get up and get ready. Sebastian kept nagging at me to get it moving, and I did, slowly. When we got to school the bell rang for first period, and he ran off to get to class while I got the paperwork to drop out. As the receptionist finished filling out the correct forms she wrote me up for being late and sent me out the door. I took my time getting to first period and glanced happily at the walls and doors of classrooms that I would never walk past again.

I opened the door to my art class and handed Mrs. Summer my papers. There was a look of sadness when she read through the forms. Deep down, I knew she wanted to tell me to stay in school, finish up the year, and graduate so I could go on to bigger and better things, but she understood why I was doing it. It seemed like there was never enough time in the day to do everything that I needed to do. She signed the forms and asked me to stop by after school was over, and I nodded then quickly headed to my seat.

Willow and Fiora were upset at the fact that I was dropping out, but they accepted the fact that it was necessary. They chattered endlessly about their plans to beg their parents to do the same so they could better prepare themselves to be by my and Sebastian’s side during the takeover. When the bell finally rang, they each took one of my arms and walked with me to second period.

The school day passed simply enough. I had a few teachers lecture me on the mistake they believed I was making, but they begrudgingly signed the forms anyway. My binder and bag were full of graded assignments and tests. During my TA class, I was excused to get my locker checked out and my books checked back in. Everything was completed by the final period, and I was officially out of school. Sebastian was ready to go, but I still needed to see Mrs. Summer. I told him I needed to stop by her class on our way out, and he went to get the car while I talked with her.

An eerie feeling passed over me as it always did when I walked in the empty halls at North Marion. A classroom door slammed shut down the hallway, and I jumped at the sound. Taking a deep breath, I hurried outside to Mrs. Summer’s classroom. When the doors finally separated me from the interior of the main building, I slowed my steps and looked around.

Tall trees encircled a small garden, creating a courtyard. An old rotted bench was attached to every tree. The grass on the sports fields was superbly green, but the tennis court fence was rusted and rickety from lack of care. I gave up looking at how much or how little the school cared about certain areas of the landscape and watched the sidewalk pass beneath me. It wasn’t long before I came up to the gray concrete building that housed the art room. Sighing softly, I opened the doors and headed in to see Mrs. Summer.

She was sitting behind her desk, which had always been cluttered with artwork, photos, and strange little knickknacks that she adored. Her head was bobbing slightly to the soft music that was playing. It was the same playlist I had listened to every year, a strange, eclectic mix of bluegrass, hip-hop, country, and jazz. I caught myself bobbing my own head to the music as I walked over to her desk. This was the only class that I would miss, the one place where I felt safe from the people who had bullied me the four years I had been there. I cleared my throat, and she looked up.

“You know, this is the one class I will miss the most.” I smiled.

“Well, you were always a very talented young artist. You could go places with a brushstroke like yours.” Her words were genuine and real.