Spark of Knowledge Read online

  “Granmama said that with the rise of the Great Church came the persecution of the Magi,” Jared takes over, and his twin leans back and closes his eyes. “It happened gradually at first. But as the leaders of the Great Church found their influence growing, they wanted more. Eventually they demanded everyone follow them and worship as they believed. They sent their missionaries everywhere, trying to convert the Magi to their views. When the Magi refused, they called them “Witches”. They claimed the Magi were in league with the Devil and must be purified. Their communities were destroyed, and the remaining Magi went into hiding.” Jared’s eyes flash with anger. “But once the Great Church got started on their quest to rule or destroy anyone who believed differently, they would not stop. Wars, witch hunts, violence and death came for anyone that opposed the Great Church.”

  “Many of the Magi tried to escape the Great Church’s reach. Settling in countries that did not embrace the Great Church and its beliefs. Even crossing the ocean to the Americas. Moving westward as the Great Church and its offshoot churches continued their search for the “Witches”. But the Great Church was winning. As the Magi scattered and were forced into hiding, they started marrying outside the community and their powers weakened over generations. According to Granmana, the Magi slowly lost their connection to nature; until eventually instead of controlling all of the elements, they would only develop a connection with one or two.”

  The Nerd leans forward, picking up the story again. “Granmama said we are descended from the Magi. She still practiced the old ways that she learned from her grandparents. Even though her own child and her grandchildren never showed any elemental connection and rejected her beliefs, she was convinced that magic still lived within our family. Granmama thought there was something special about this island. Something that drew those touched with magic to it. And she was confident that the magic would return when the time was right. That nothing in the universe could be destroyed only changed. She said the magic was changing too, finding new, less noticeable ways to flourish.”

  “Our parents eventually decided she had lost touch with reality,” Jared says. His voice is touched with anger, but I can feel the hurt behind it. “If she hadn’t lived on the same property as our Grandfather, they probably wouldn’t have let us see her at all. They didn’t approve of her filling our heads with “nonsense”. ‘Too many other more important things to worry about,’ they’d tell us. ‘The government trying to control our lives, secret organizations pulling the strings,” he scoffs. “Their beliefs aren’t really that different; they just can’t get past the concept of magic in order to see it.” Jared falls silent, staring off into space.

  “So you think she was right?” I ask curiously. The energy in the room buzzes over my skin, but I ignore it and stay focused on the guys.

  “We know she was right,” the Rock Star replies, pinning me with his intense hazel eyes. “We’ve been practicing magic together for years.”

  Whatever I’d expected, it isn’t this. “Wait, what?”

  “We’ve seen it Sprite,” Sebastian chimes in. “Magic is possible; at least it is when the five of us work together.”

  “Ooook…” I frown, looking between them, trying to figure out if they are playing a joke on me. “Let’s say I believe you and agree that magic is real.” Jared opens his mouth to interrupt but I silence him with a look. “What does this have to do with the “incident” and my scars?”

  “You said that law enforcement told you that this serial killer was ritually murdering his victims,” the Rock Star pauses and I nod in agreement. “Knowing what we know about the Magi and magic, well, it didn’t seem that far a stretch to think that maybe it was a magic ritual. That’s why I asked if you wanted to know what the symbols meant. We want to help Em, but we don’t want to make you uncomfortable. If you’ve changed your mind and would rather not know…” he trails off, watching me.

  I bite my lip and look at each of them in turn. They’re all focused on me. They seem so sincere, but really… magic? Then again, should I be judging? Nothing has been “normal” since I woke up in the hospital. Being able to feel other people’s emotions and energy, the flashes of color I was seeing. Is the idea of magic existing that much different than what I am already experiencing?

  “Can you show me some magic?” I ask tentatively. They exchange looks.

  “If you like,” he replies. “Can you wait a few days? It’ll be easier if we do it at the twins’ cottage.”

  “Sure, that will work,” I shrug. “So what’s your plan for finding out if my scars have meaning?”

  “We’re working on a couple angles,” the Rock Star explains. “Ian is hacking into the police and medical files related to what happened.” The Nerd flashes me a reassuring smile while the Rock Star continues. “Not just yours, but the files on all the victims. Jared and I are going through our books. We’re looking for both the symbols that were used and any information that will prove or disprove our theory. We suspect that the attack was done by a Magi for a specific purpose, rather than just a random crazy psychopath. Once we figure out what the symbols mean or what the ritual’s purpose was, we’ll share it with you. Right now, we’re just going off a theory and guesswork.”

  I release the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Ok, that makes sense… Is there anything else I need to know right now?” I ask looking over at Jared and his twin. They shake their heads in an almost eerie synchronization and I wonder if there is any truth to the twin psychic bond myth.

  Intense hazel eye watch me appraisingly. “That’s it? No more arguing? No more disbelief?” I notice they are all looking at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

  “Is that what you expected?” I ask, genuinely confused. They all nod, apparently waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Huh. They really are shocked I’m not arguing with them more. Maybe I’m weird, but after listening to everything they said and thinking about my own experiences, the existence of magic and separate race of people with the ability to use this magic, doesn’t sound that crazy.

  “I won’t lie; I am a little overwhelmed right now. I mean, that was a whole lot of information you just dumped on me. But I can’t argue with you, cause it makes sense in a way.” I take a deep breath and continue on. “I mean, think about it from my perspective. I woke up in the hospital and found out I’d been used as a sketch pad for a serial killer. I’ve got zero memories of my life before the hospital and the doctors certainly never found a believable medical reason for why I have “Global Retrograde Amnesia”. So why not a magical explanation? Magic doesn’t sound that strange after everything that has happened to me in the last few months.”

  “It really means a lot that you trust me enough to share this…” I continue, purposely making eye contact with each of them. The pressure pf the energy in the room is so thick now that I can feel my shield start to fail. I really need to get out of here and clear my head. “I hope you don’t mind, but I should get going now. This has been a lot. I need a little time to process. But I can’t wait for you to show me some magic.”

  “Let me walk you back, Sprite,” Sebastian says, rising and offering me a hand. I let him pull me up from the chair, even though the heat of his energy rips through the last of my shield.

  “Thanks again guys.” I give them one last smile before heading out the French doors. Sebastian falls into step next to me and we walk home in silence.

  When we reach the back porch, Sebastian stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

  “Are you sure you’re ok, Sprite? I can stay with you for a while, if you’d like some company?”

  “I’m fine, I just need some alone time. Everything you guys shared… Well it’s a lot to take in. I’m guessing you’ve had years to get used to it,” I tell him.

  Sebastian chuckles and nods in understanding, pulling me into a tight hug.

  “You’ve got my number. If you need something, anything, I'm just a call or text away. After all, I’m
right next door,” he reminds me, pulling back enough to meet my eyes.

  “Thanks Bast, that means a lot to me,” I whisper, squeezing him tight before stepping out of his arms. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, ok?”

  “Absolutely.” He gives me a wink before heading back towards his house.

  I quietly let myself into the house and go up to my room. Falling back on my bed, I stare at the ceiling, my head spinning from everything I learned today.

  Sleep, that’s what I need. Everything will be clearer after a good night’s sleep.

  Tuesday, September 1st

  ∞

  My hopes for a good night’s sleep turn out to be a pipe dream. I toss and turn through an endless series of nightmares I can’t even remember, then wake up to intense cramps. When my alarm goes off, I’m curled in a ball, trying not to cry. It feels like an alien is trying to tear its way out of my uterus. It’s never been this bad before. WTF?

  I hit the off button and stagger to the bathroom to find the bottle of Advil. Returning to bed with the bottle and a glass of water, I take two pills before crawling back under the covers. I try to sleep, but thirty restless minutes later, I’m still awake. The Advil has barely made a dent in the pain. God this sucks.

  I text Mom, telling her I’m not feeling well and ask to stay home from school. It’s not a lie; I feel like death. I can’t even imagine trying to sit through classes, even if crippling menstrual cramps aren’t contagious.

  Thankfully Mom doesn’t ask for details or argue with me. She just texts back, “Ok Emilienne.” It probably helped that today is my half day at school thanks to my weekly appointment with the psychiatrist. Or maybe not. It’s hard to tell. Since Mom doesn’t come in to check on me, I’m guessing she left the house early again. Probably already off attending another Church or Country Club event.

  I set a new alarm to wake me up 15 minutes before my afternoon appointment and close my eyes.

  When the alarm goes off, I want to smash it against the wall. I sit up and take two more Advil, chasing them down with what’s left of my water. God I don’t want to do this meeting right now. I can hardly think at the moment. I manage to drag myself out of bed long enough to use the bathroom, grab my laptop, and lug it back to bed with me. I might not be able to skip my appointment, but there is no way I’m getting out of bed or dressed up for it. Today is officially Pajama Tuesday.

  Setting the laptop on the bed next to me, I power it on. Once it finishes booting, I login to the secure website. The connection goes right through this time, and the psychiatrist’s face pops up on the screen immediately.

  “Good Afternoon, Emilienne. How are you doing today?” She asks, adjusting her glasses. Nope, still can’t remember her name. Oh well. Maybe next time.

  “I’ve been better Doctor. In fact, I wouldn’t be opposed to cutting our time short today.” I tell her, closing my eyes as another cramp hits. “Not feeling well right now.”

  “Oh?” She says, almost sounding concerned. “Have you been to the doctor yet?”

  “No, it’s not that kind of feeling bad. Just that time of the month hitting me extra hard with industrial strength cramps.”

  “Ahhh, I see. Well, I’ll speak to your Mother about it. If it’s that bad, there might be something the OBGYN can do to help ease the symptoms. I believe studies have found that the hormones in birth control can reduce the pain of menstrual cramping.”

  “I think I had a panic attack on Friday.” I blurt out in an attempt to change the subject. I really, really, really do NOT want to have an in-depth discussion about birth control with her. She leans in towards the camera, a strange look flashing over her face before her professional mask closes back in.

  “Ohh? Did you remember something Emilienne?” She asks expectantly and suddenly I wish could take back my words. Something about her reaction has warning bells ring in my head, even without being able to feel her energy. I scramble to come up with something safe to tell her, something that doesn’t involve the guys or our conversations about the “incident” or magic.

  “No, it wasn’t a memory,” I reply, not having to fake my embarrassment. “It’s probably stupid.”

  “Now Emilienne, nothing you are feeling is stupid,” she says, clearly in analyst mode. “Tell me exactly what happened, and we can determine what caused your reaction.”

  “Oh well… Last week I went into the cafeteria for lunch. It was ok at first, but then… Well I realized everyone was staring, and I kind of freaked. I ended up running out and hiding in my car for the rest of the hour.” I substitute. I’m telling a truth, just not the truth about what triggered the panic attack.

  “I see. You’re still struggling with crowds then?” I nod, and she glances down and scribbles some notes, before looking up and continuing. “How about in your classes? Have you had any panic attacks there?”

  “I’ve been fine in all my classes. They are pretty small, no more than like 25 to 30 people at a time. It was just the amount of people in the cafeteria that was overwhelming.”

  “I see. This is obviously something to work on. We need to find ways to increase the number of people you’re comfortable around at one time. Since you’re not feeling well, let’s cut this short today. I’m going to contact your Mother about making that OBGYN appointment and I’ll email you some exercises and homework that might help you deal with crowds.”

  Oh goodie, just what I wanted, more homework. I manage to plaster a smile on my face and nod.

  “That sounds great Doctor. Thanks so much for understanding.”

  “Of course, Emilienne. That’s what I’m here for. Get some rest and we’ll talk more next week.”

  “Have a great day!” I tell her before disconnecting the call. Moving the laptop to the nightstand, I close my eyes and let sleep creep back in. I can think more about why her reaction to my panic attack unsettled me later.

  I’m half asleep when the text alert goes off. Rolling over, I grab my phone.

  Angel Sebastian: Hey Sprite, where you at?

  Me: Home sick

  Angel Sebastian: Oh no!!! What’s wrong?

  Me: Girlie problems

  Angel Sebastian: :O We were worried about you. Is there anything we can do?

  Me: I wish, but I just have to suffer through

  Angel Sebastian:  Alright. I’ll let the guys know you’re ok, sorta.

  Me: Thanks Bast. Gonna try to sleep through the worst of it

  Angel Sebastian: Sweet dreams

  Me: 

  I set the phone aside and fall back into oblivion.

  Wednesday, September 2nd

  ∞

  I end up sleeping away the rest of Tuesday. On the upside, at some point the alien settles down and the cramps subside to a manageable level. With all the extra sleep, I find myself wide awake long before my alarm goes off. I take my time in the bathroom, washing and blow drying my hair, before wandering into the closet to pick out an outfit for the day. I settle on a short sleeved garnet red dress that skims my curves before flaring out at the hips, and pair with black leggings. I debate for a minute between my Docs and my platform Mary Jane’s, finally settling on the Mary Jane’s.

  Checking the time on my phone, I realize I’ve still got 45 minutes before I need to leave for school. I sit down at my dressing table and pull out my hairbrush. Usually I just leave my hair down or in ponytails, but since I have time to waste today, I’m tempted to experiment with one of the more complicated styles I’d seen on YouTube. A knock at my door has me jumping in surprise, and I end up dropping the hairbrush.

  “Come in,” I call, as Mom opens the door. Apparently that was a warning knock, rather than a request for permission to enter. I manage a smile at her anyways.

  “G’Morning, Mom.” I pick up my brush and go back to considering my hair. I can see her reflection in the mirror as she moves around behind me, finally coming to perch on the edge of the bed. I put up my energy shield quickly, without any extra effort. Thank God for that. Th
e last thing I want is to start my day with an onslaught of Mom’s confusing emotions.

  “How are you feeling today, Emilienne?” She asks, one hand tapping restlessly on the comforter.

  “Much better, thanks,” I reply, turning to give her my full attention. Mom’s clearly been up for hours. She’s already dressed to impress in a tailored taupe dress and matching jacket. Her golden blond hair is pulled back in an elegant chignon bun and her perfect makeup makes it impossible to guess her age. The shadows I’d seen under her eyes before the move have vanished, either from the month spent on the island or a more careful application of makeup. I’m not sure which. Pulling my attention back to the topic at hand, I flash a smile. “Definitely well enough to go back to school.”

  “Good, good,” Mom replies vaguely, looking around restlessly. “Dr. Johnston called yesterday. She recommended we get you in to see an OBGYN regarding the… well you know…” I resist the urge to snicker at her reluctance to say cramps. Like it’s not something every woman has to deal with. “I’ve made you an appointment for Friday afternoon. I’ll be picking you up after your morning classes and we’ll catch the noon ferry to the mainland. I’ve already notified the school.”

  “She also mentioned you had a panic attack,” Mom spears me with an accusing look, and I stiffen automatically. “I’m not sure why you didn’t think to mention it to me… But thankfully she was able to prescribe something to help and have the script sent directly to the local pharmacy. I already had it filled. The bottle is on the kitchen counter for you. Make sure you read the directions and take them before school.”

  One, ok maybe two, panic attacks and I needed to be medicated? That seemed a little extreme to me, and I wonder once again what was going on in the Doctor’s mind when I mentioned it. It’s enough to make me wish we’d actually met in person. Well, almost.

  “Anyways,” Mom continued on, and I direct my attention back to her. “I have some appointments this morning, so I should be going. Make sure you take the medication before you leave.”