Original Souls (A World Apart #1) (20 page)

"No, Cory. I love you, mom and even granddad, on a higher level than friendship. Yo
u’
re family, and that is an everlasting bond. No matter what, I will always be at your side when you need for something. My love for you carries our relationship through all time and spac
e—
forever!" Cris insisted with a broad smile that nearly broke his fragile jaw.

Those words made Corinth feel a lot better about his dad. He had been uneasy, but he knew now. He knew there would always be someone in his corner. "Is mom going to be all right?"

"Honestly, buddy," Cris was entirely too tired for more excuses, "I don't know the answer to that question. But I do know your mom. I'm sure she has the strength to overcome her ego and all the strain this new power's placed on her."

Corinth liked that his dad trusted him with that information. He felt like a big kid, like a grown up. Instead of the little kid he saw every time he passed a mirror. He was too small for sports in his age group. Well, at least Julia thought so. Though she took him to the roof for encouragement to wield magik, or fall trying, she never seemed to like the thought of him playing the most popular sport around, Levantarse. He always felt small and insignificant because of things like that. Not to mention the fact that he could barely manage a spell in English. Better yet, trying to wield in the cursed language. Corinth wanted to turn over a new leaf. One that revealed him as a force to be reckoned with, or at least a force to be respected by his peers as an equal.

Corinth used his new power to sneakily peek inside of his father's mind. In Cristo
n’
s mind, Corinth found the real answer to his earlier question. His dad was definitely leaving him at the school. He could feel that the uneasy relationship between Sena. Hendrix and his dad was going to have a major impact on how his stay at Aurora Boreal would go. He did
n’
t know how exactly, but he knew it in his head. Still, he was glad that his dad seemed stable and ready to face all the hardships the Grand Ministrant, the dreadful Hendrix, mentioned earlier. He felt the fear while in his fathe
r’
s mind, but also the confidence that spurred him to do all he's done in the past few days.

He decided not to probe his dad's mind too deep. He respected him too much to just go digging around like some mind-thief. It was just in time that he collected that information too, because it's now six minutes to eight
o’
clock.

"Dad, the time ... Sena. Hendrix ... She's going to flip!" Corinth was shouting out phrase after phrase. He'd only known her for two days, and he's already afraid of the old bat. She does have that kind of heavy affect on people. A bit of a charmles
s—
charm.

"Relax," said his dad easily. "She talks a big game, but she doesn't always follow through."

"But what if today is that lucky day!" Corinth was still shouting. "Look da
d—
" Corinth pulled his fathe
r’
s arm, and brought him in close. "I know you think she likes you underneath that tough exterior, but I'm thinking something more lik
e…
" Corinth paused a moment. "More like, she completely hates you. When she looks at you, she has this foulness in her eyes that says that she thinks you really suck! If you don't make it, then you might die, or something worse! I don't want that to happen, we've got to go now!" Corinth pulled on his arm, but Cris couldn't be moved.

"Wait a second," the peacefully tall, lying down man in the hospital gown said, while watching his son tugging on his arm like a monkey grabbing a tree branch. "I agree with that last statement. My life may still be in danger. I owe a huge debt to somebody in the stars now. And it seems they want me to pay it back. That's exactly why I'm certain Sena. Hendrix will be there. She couldn't live with herself if something happened to either one of us. Always remember that," Cris concluded, with a wink.

He tried to assure Corinth, but Corinth wasn't so sure. He thought maybe his dad took too many knocks to the head to keep up with the likes of Sena. Hendrix. The Grand Ministrant of this huge prestigious school was definitely a no-prisoners kind of lady, Corinth thought. "Dad, if this is going to be a Sebastian Wilcox type situation, then I'm betting on Sena. Hendrix to win," Corinth blurted it out with absolutely no filter in mind. He was pushing the envelope, and Criston didn't like it.

"See now!" he shouted without restraint, "I let -a few of the other spites go by without a word, but yo
u’
re coming way too far out of your shell for my comfort!"

Corinth started to push away from his father to jump down from the hospital -bed. That slight bit of disapproval made him turn into an instant,insecure little monster. Instead of letting him go, Criston placed a patient, yet forceful hand on his shoulder to stop him. The boy was now immobilized by his dad's willfulness. He took Cor
y’
s chin in that same hand, and turned the feeble bodied boy toward him. Corinth didn't enjoy confrontation as much as his parents, so he looked down, and tried not to cry. Just like the sheltered brat they raised him to be.

"I understand that where you're coming from is a good hearted place, but you've got to stop blurring the lines between talking to a parent, or any authority, and to a friend. That's why I say I'm not your friend. Yo
u’
re so much more than that to me. I have a responsibility toward you, and I won't fail to carry it out. Let me be a dad, and you be a son. A boy, young and scared about all the new and crazy things happening around him. But know in your heart, not your head for a change
,
” he gently tapped on the bo
y’
s soft skull as he spoke. "Know that I'm going to make all of this right for you."

Corinth shook his head vertically, up then down. He looked up, and smiled. Criston said all the right things to make him feel safe and at ease. Criston got up out of the bed, after Corinth jumped down. He looked around for something more appropriate to wear. His search came up empty.

"Where are my clothes?" Cris asked.

"They're in the closet," Corinth said with a new pep in his step.

Cris, looked around again, and like before he came up empty. All he saw were stonewalls. He noticed, by way of the window, that the sun was setting. He knew Sena. Hendrix would wait, but only so long.

"Uh, are you sure about this closet thing?" he inquired with his son again.

"Yes," Corinth snapped, "I know what I'm talking about. I'm not lying!" he said with a less than playful tone.

"I'm not calling you a liar!" Cris said, already agitated again by Corint
h’
s tone. "It's just that I don't see any closets. There are just walls of stone around us. You'd notice that, if you bothered to look, kid."

Corinth looked around, "Oh yeah, I forgot." He walked over to the right side of the wall that surrounded the wooden door. He pressed three stones. "First, press one on the top. Then you cross diagonally one stone down. Then finally, you just move one stone up above and ... voila!" Closets all around the room started opening up. The walls seemed to unfold and slide over. Opening a vast series of hidden compartments that held lots of different costumes, and more average type clothing as well. "Sena. Hendrix says it doesn't matter what stone you press first, as long as you press the next two in the right order," Corinth excitedly informed.

Cris had forgotten the enchanting nature of the school. The way Draconian's have lived always devalued the use of magik in daily life. And now that Sebastian has rewritten history with his Restriction Conviction law, Cristo
n’
s not used to seeing things like this at all anymore. "Tha
t—
i
s—
something!" the man said with a strong sense of brilliance and wonder.

Corinth seemed proud of himself as he listened, watching his dad stroll over to the closet nearest him with wide eyes. Corinth noticed that he wasn't moving toward his own set of clothes hanging up in there, but decided to let his dad do what he wanted to. Cris looked at the costumes and other clothes in the closet. A few runaway tears streamed down his face as he touched bright green fabrics and many more.

"Dad, what's wrong?" the impatient boy questioned.

"These are mine. All these clothes were mine when I went to school here. My Day of Curses -costumes, my Levantarse uniform, some leftover everyday clothes, and even gym wear. Hopefully, i
t’
s clean!" Cris said, with a chuckle in his voice that was all too familiar to Corinth. Cris was feeling happy, even youthful again. He muttered under his breath, "I can't believe she kept them."

Corinth looked on bewildered as his father fondly reminisced. He decided to walk over to window where he was initially sitting when his dad came to from his coma. He looked outside at the sunset on the horizon, and couldn't believe that there was a dome around the entire school grounds. It was impossible to see with the naked eye. However, while he watched the twilight, something moving on the grounds below was visible and it firmly gripped his attention.

Dressed in all black, skirt flowing in the breeze, and high heels that he could hear clopping down on the marble walkway from all the way up there in the watchtower. "Sena. Hendrix," he shouted, "Sena. Hendrix don't leave, please!!"

Criston turned quickly. He tried to walk over toward the window, but tripped as he was still in the process of putting on some tight pants from his days at the school. He wasn't much bigger than then. He always had an athletic body, as do many mainstream Draconia meat-heads. Still, seventeen years can be absolute hell on hips. He just barely squeezed the jeans above his hipbone with his better hand. Then, he walked over to the stone out craving in the towe
r’
s wall that they all called a window.

"You walked that way on purpose, Silvia!" Cris shouted down to the woman he and his son were both in pursuit of. His voice was a lot cheerier this time around with the schoo
l’
s director. Corinth noticed it and looked back and forth at both of them. Sena. Hendri
x’
s back was to them as she continued to drift away, but Corinth could see right into his dad's eyes. He was trying to gauge the new sense of camaraderie stemming from his dad's tone. "Don't make this hard no
w—
" Criston shouted again to her.

But she kept walking, briskly, as the path came across an incline. Her paced slowed, but her determination didn't. She kept her stride, walking her way out of there. And for a fifty-nine year old, she moved with a hyper sense of grace. It spoke volumes for her health and vitality in her later years. She is a woman of certainty, and she is certainly intent on leaving these insolent boys behind.

"I found my school things!" Cris shouted, with a slightly more conservative tone.

That revelation got Sena. Hendrix attention when nothing else could. She suddenly stopped in the middle of climbing the hill, between two large oaks. She looked back with an intense fire in her blaring sapphire blue eyes. "I'll wait no more than five minutes for you two to get your silly behinds down here to meet me!" Though she shouted, there was a muffled sound to it. This conveyed that she had no intention on straining her voice for the likes of them.

"Come on, kid, we have to get down there quick. You were right, she means business today." This was the first time in as long as Criston could remember that he was excited to see Hendrix.

He ran to the door and grabbed a shirt as he passed. He wiggled into it as he kept straight for the archway and charged through. He turned the corner into the dankly smelling halls, and realized his son wasn't by his side or behind him. He turned, then went back and poked his head into the door. Corinth appeared to be in deep thought, at least to his father.

"What are you doing, Cory?"

He did
n’
t respond, just a grave look on his boyish face. His dark hair shined with the light behind him, as he gently pushed the front bit of it out of his face. Not a handsome kid at all. Too precious looking with those turquoise eyes. Too sensitive looking with those dense eyelashes he inherited from his mother. Too childlike with that blemish free, near tan, but more olive tone of skin. Too short and too immature to be a budding reflection of the rugged handsomeness his dad possessed. He was perfectly cute at twelv
e
… going on ten years old. Almost too cute to handle, as his softness always made those around him feel instant affection toward him. It bothered him sometimes, but he used it at other times to his advantage. He simply walked into the halls of terror, passing through the doorway way and by his father, without a word of response.