These Lying Eyes (16 page)

Then, Mina pulled the drawer fully and forcefully open. The chill in the room increased as if the wind was blowing directly on her neck, and her breath fled in a rush. She found more than she remembered. Two bibles, a half-dozen journals—maybe more—an envelope of pictures, a pile of letters wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. Mina ran her fingers over the contents.

“Open one of the Biblez.” Poppy said and Mina turned to see that Hitch and Poppy had arrived.

Pages of family history opened before them. Mina flipped to the end to find her name. And there she was.

But it was also wrong.

Chapter 13

T
here were six lines in front of hers, not three. Six names: Taryn Christina, Constance Eleanor, Jennifer Michelle, Katherine Lynn, Jason Lucas, Erik Karl, and then her name. Wilhelmina Franziska.

“Do you see that?” she asked.

“I do.” Poppy’s voice was careful.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“I think so.”

Mina forgot anything but those names. Taryn, Constance, Jennifer. She was too shocked to feel anything.

“Look at the datez.”

Mina found their birthdates. They were all the same. Another set of triplets born on December 1, 1987.

When her mom was in high school.

“She was so young.”

Poppy nodded as she added, “Not much older than you.”

The wind whipped around the house again, reawakening Mina’s fears.

“I guess we’ll be searching my house too.”

But she didn’t close the Bible, she found her mother’s name, counting her aunts and uncles. It was as the doctor had said; her mother was the seventh child. Mina had never really thought about it before. It had never mattered before, where she fell in the line up of kids. She’d always just considered herself a middle kid. But…being a Seventh meant something for witches.

She traced the lines and found her Grandmother’s name. There were 10 lines leading off of her great-grandparents marriage. Grandmother was preceded by: Augusta, Thomas, Mary, Armin, Clemenz, Josephine, before Grandma. But there she was—Franziska—number seven.

Mina followed her great-grandparents line. Great-Grandmother Augusta was a Seventh. Mina cleared a dry throat. She followed Augusta back. She was the Seventh child of another Clemenz. Mina closed her eyes, sucked in a breath, and let it out. Clemenz and his wife had started the record. Generations of recorded Sevenths.

Mina’s hands shook even more as she opened the second bible and found her grandfather’s name. She followed it back to another Wilhelm. He too was preceded by six siblings. The trembling of her fingers increased as she found her Great-Grandfather Viet. Also, a Seventh. Grandfather Viet’s family started the history, but Mina knew with a creeping certainty that the generations would continue back.

On both sides they would continue back, generation after generation of Sevenths.

Mina closed the Bibles to look through the pictures. Catching her breath as she looked down at the face of a woman with eyes the same shape as her grandmother’s, curly hair framed an elfin face. She had an old pin at the base of her throat; a pin her grandmother often wore.
“What did you find?” Zizi dropped to the floor next to the open bibles.

“Mina’s a Seventh after all.”

“Excuse me?”

“There was another set of triplets.”

They let Zizi digest that information, waiting long moments, before she said, “Just write it down for yourself, Mina. You can think about it later. Your Grandmother would not let you look at these if she were here. This is your chance.”

“I don’t think so.” Mina stood, opening the closet door. At the back of the closet was her grandfather’s old olive green messenger bag. She took it and turned back to her friends holding up the bag.

But a sense of knowing overcame her, and she turned back. The hook she removed the bag from was in a straight line with several others. Her grandfather’s favorite coat hung in front of her even though he’d been dead for a few years. A cardigan her grandmother used to wear neighbored it. Several other sweaters lined the wall in front of her. They hung over a built in box.

One that was attached to the wall and had the same scroll work as the chest at the end of her grandparents’ bed.

Could it be?

She knelt, pushing in on the scrollwork until the top of the bench clicked. Mina grasped the lip and pulled up.

It was filled.

Books, odd knives—like the one in Grandmother’s cabin—smaller boxes that were carved and beautiful. A horde of, Mina suspected, magical items. A horde of evidence that her family was more than she’d been told.

“We have to take it all.” Mina said resolutely.

“That’z a lot of bookz for one Vespa.” Hitch landed on the rim of the box. Mina shrugged and started filling her grandfather’s bag. “Fill my bag with as much as you can, please.”

Mina shoved book after book into her Grandfather’s bag. She tried to figure out how she was going to take the rest. She could make trips, but the fear from earlier was returning, and she didn’t want to come back until it was light and preferably there were a pack of people. But with a group…how would she sneak anything away?

Mina worked mindlessly. She didn’t want to examine her feelings. Her exhaustion, her fears, they overwhelmed her. She didn’t want to think about how Grandfather, always a favorite, knew she was a Seventh and hadn’t helped her.

He’d done nothing.

Her parents had done nothing.

Mina had read enough to know that magic was wilder for a Seventh child. It was unruly and filled with unexpected gifts. Mina slid the last small box into the messenger bag. Her fingers swept the bottom of the chest, and she found a stray ring that she slipped onto a middle finger.

It was only then that she thought.

The hidden bench was huge. There had to have been 60 books—maybe more. Several smaller chests, knives in cases. Scrolls. A few jars. Grandfather’s messenger bag was no bigger than hers. She looked into the bag and saw the books perfectly arranged. She stared at Hitch. He shrugged.

“It’z not like you didn’t know already he waz a witch too.”

Mina held up her hand, and he pulled her to her feet. She left the bag on the ground, so she could drag it behind her and stumbled with the lightness of it. Hitch grabbed the front of her hoodie and pushed against her until she found her feet again.

“I guess I thought he wasn’t practicing or something. I didn’t expect to find something so real, you know?” Mina placed the bag over her body slantways.

“Yeah…” Hitch said.

Mina gazed into the empty chest, running her fingers over the strap of the messenger bag. Was she really going to take all of this?

But her conscience wasn’t strong enough to stop her—only strong enough to make her question it. Maybe if she hadn’t felt so abandoned by her family. They knew she was a Seventh, knew she couldn’t turn the magic off, but never explained. Maybe if that hadn’t happened, she’d have paused. Considered. Even left the items. But they’d left her to figure things out on her own, and she wasn’t going to leave behind a chestful of tools. Especially since they actually belonged to family who’d practiced their art. Admitted their art, their beliefs, their heritage.

Mina took her stuffed bag from Zizi, placing it on the opposite shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the bite wound.

She didn’t think she could drive with the bags pulling on her injury.

But…

Mina emptied both bags. Hers was made of woven seatbelts, brightly colored and sturdy. Grandfather’s was made of army-style canvas. Mina placed his bag inside of hers, pinning it with safety pins from the bathroom.

Once they were doubled, she filled the combined bags with everything, dropped it over her good shoulder, and pushed away the knowledge that she was robbing her Grandmother.

* * *

Mina dropped onto the uncomfortable couch, staring at the wall rather than leaving. The feeling hadn’t left her, the grim one. And she didn’t want to go outside. But then the books on the shelves caught her eyes. She crossed to them, ran a finger over their spines. They were out of order.

Entirely.

“Do you see this?” she asked.

The sprites looked at the shelves for several minutes before Zizi said, “That is not how the books were at the beach house.”

Poppy’s breath caught, and she and Hitch flew closer. Poppy ran a hand over the book spines.

“You’re right,” she said.

“Grandmother is super anal about everything.” Mina pulled one of the books from the shelf. Whoever had put them back had tried. They were alphabetized by author. But, Grandmother organized by size. Precisely, spines to the edges of the shelf, tallest in the center.

“Someone else has been going through your Grandmother’s things, I think.” Zizi said what each had recognized. It caused a shiver to jump from one to the other. Poppy glanced over her shoulder as if they were no longer alone in the cabin.

But what did it mean? Could someone else in the family be looking for answers? Was someone else searching for the cache Mina now had?

“We need to go.” Mina said. “Maybe that’s why I feel someone’s eyes. Someone else has come for this stuff.”

The sprites looked at her, at each other. Concern was in their faces, and Mina knew they didn’t feel what she felt.

“Something’s out there.” Mina said, hoping they’d trust her, uncertain of what to do if they didn’t.

“She found the hidden stuff.” Poppy said, dropping to Mina’s shoulder.

“She’z not a wimp.” Hitch landed, next to Poppy.

“We need to sneak out then.” Zizi twitched the curtains, glancing out.

“If it’z a person, they’ll know we’re going to the scooter,” Poppy said.

“If it’s a family member, they’ll know who was here.” Mina added.

“We’ll have to deal with that later.” Hitch said, “Let’s just get out.”

Zizi re-wound her orange mane into a bun and tied it with a red string; Mina straightened her jacket, tightened her own knot of curls.

“We need a distraction,” Hitch said. “And we need to move fast.”

Zizi made the plan. Hitch found fault with it; Poppy threw in her suggestions, and they negotiated while Mina let them decide.

With no wings, she was the problem. Plus, she couldn’t leave her brand new Vespa without bring the wrath of her parents upon her head. And then, even if she did leave the scooter, she simply wasn’t as fast as the sprites. She might have magic, but she’d never even touched it. Any abilities she had currently were only available if they were as easy as opening her eyes.

Once the sprites decided upon the plan, Mina, Hitch, and Poppy made their way to the utility room next to the back door. They tried to act normally in case someone was peeking in the windows. Cleaning up. Turning out lights. Not jumping at every creak.

Innocent, innocent.

Hitch flipped the breaker.

Zizi was at the front door. Mina and the others at the back.

They began counting. Precisely opening both doors at the count of 100. Zizi, alone, left the front door. She held Mina’s cell phone, mimicking Mina’s voice.

The others crept out the back.

Hitch flew ahead while Poppy stayed with Mina, waiting for an all clear.

When he waved them out, they crept along the side of the house, sticking to the shadows, letting the dirt of the flower beds mask Mina’s footsteps. Moving ever closer to her scooter, only from the unexpected direction, Mina held her breath.

Was she just paranoid?

Hitch disappeared. He was putting the key into the Vespa, so they’d be able to just turn it on and take off. He came back, with her helmet, and wings he was trying to keep silent.

“Not sure if you infected me, but it’z creepy over there.”

Poppy gestured, and Mina lifted both hands. Hitch wrapped himself around one wrist, Poppy the other.

“One, two, three,” Poppy mouthed, and then the sprites flew straight up, lifting Mina off the ground.

Just as Mina reached about 6 feet off the ground, Zizi screeched.

Mina jerked and yelped.

Hitch cursed.

“Move it.” Poppy ordered. And the sprites rushed Mina over the yard dropping her onto the scooter. As soon as Mina was settled, Poppy disappeared towards Zizi, and Hitch turned the Vespa on.

The engine didn’t catch.

And then a low, cold growl drowned out all other noise. Mina fought a whimper and lost. Soft little hiccups escaped her as a pair of malevolent red eyes left the shadows by the lake and rushed towards her. They were followed by a second set, and then a third, and all of them were moving far too quickly.

“Hitch…” she whispered. “Do you…Do you see that?”

He only cursed.

The eyes seemed to fly towards her, and she shrieked again, every instinct telling her to run. Those glowing orbs rocketed towards them, out of the trees, across the sand, into the orchard.

Converging on the scooter, while she sat helpless, unable to turn it on, unable to fly away.

She prayed. Hitch shouted a word in Zydekaune, and the engine caught.

“Go, Mina!” He ordered, tapping the side of helmet. And then he flew
towards
those eyes.

“Hitch…” she cried, but she peeled away from the cabin. “You’re the handicap Mina. You’re the one. Go, go, go.” The sprites couldn’t fly to safety until Mina was out of the way.

The drive was long, the moon was covered, and her brand new Vespa’s headlight flickered, almost cowering from the darkness.

Mina rushed on anyway, gunning the engine, chased by snarls.

“They’ll be ok,” Mina told herself. “Please let them be ok.”

Red eyes blocked the end of the drive.

“No.” She yelled. The eyes leapt; Mina swerved, and the sleeve of her coat was imprisoned.

She pulled at her hand, unable to see anything, but feeling the press of teeth even through her coat. The Vespa slipped away from her, and she fell.