The Lebrus Stone (18 page)

He kept blinking, his pupils expanded then reduced in size. His lips parted and were wet from the amount of times he kept licking them.

"Have I've done something to insult you? Just tell me."

The muscles in his arms expanded beneath my fingers. His shirt stretched at the shoulders as he leaned back to maybe pull away from me. But I held on tighter, enjoying the sudden surge of power. The way he looked caught by me this time.

"I need to know," I said, edging confidently close and finding the strength to react. "I need to know why you dislike me so much."

His other hand was raised just above his waist, like he wanted to reach up and grab me and toss me aside. I could see the need in his strange, color changing eyes, see a red appear and churn to a fiery gold, see his lips tremble and the corners lift as if he was preparing snarl and yell at me.

"I've done nothing to you." I said, clenching his shirt.

He bristled.

"I've done nothing and still you keep taunting me."

A rage buried within me returned fresh. "I try, but you get worse. You ignore me but then you won't stop staring."

He dropped his gaze to my lips, to my hands shakily making their way to his neck. He looked afraid. It spurned me on.

"Why?" I breathed. "Why do you keep doing it?"

He shivered against me as I let go and pushed him away to grasp at my throat. It felt like it had grown in width, attracted layers of thicker skin to coil around my windpipe and tug on both sides.

I could hear myself wheeze as he slowly straightened himself.

His eyes were relaxed yet somehow also wide open, searching me, looking too deep, too far inside, trying to see me like I had become transparent or was hard to see with the naked eye alone.

"I have my reasons," I think he said.

His mouth didn't seem to be moving as he spoke. His hands seemed to have been coming toward me, to comfort, though they were also still somehow hanging by his sides.

His eyes never left mine, though his gaze was never readable. His sighs never real. I stepped back.

"You should thank me," he said as the door to the manor opened.

We were bombarded with shouts and calls.

The next day I
finally
decided it was time to do some serious investigating about the story behind my mother, especially after seeing and reading what Marsi had added about me in her book, or what had seemed to be about me.

My name at the end of all that gruesome imagery had to have something to do with all of it, even if she was strange and drew such pictures about everyone. She had to have known something. There had to be an explanation for what had happened to the women in my family, and I was sure the rest of the day and night would have involved reliving every second of my first and maybe last conversation with Cray if I didn't do something proactive. I would be anticipating his reappearance, hoping for us to talk again, even if he was being rude and unfair. Maybe it was because something told me he was doing it on purpose, that he wanted me to hate him. Either that or I was turning into one of those weak and needy girls I had no respect for. If so, I had to get a hold of myself.

Milton drove me into Old Town at around two o'clock, and I asked him to pick me up in a few hours. Zella had offered to come with me, but I wanted to shop alone. I wanted to see Elandra; someone who could help me figure out what the deal was with the story, someone with an otherworldly sense that burned incense and danced around trees and imagined they could talk back. I needed someone as kooky as Jess to make me feel less…kooky. It felt like I was being directed to do all this alone, which made me a lot more sure footed.

"You've come to the right place, Crystal," Elandra said after she told me she'd been expecting me. I found myself telling her everything that had been happening as she led me to the beaded doorway behind the counter. I had no idea psychics were this in tune with a stranger, and I couldn't have questioned it if I tried. Maybe she was casting a spell to make me comply.

She told me to sit down on a brown leather couch then offered to make me a cup of iced tea. It didn't seem like a room to take customers, but I was too relaxed and comforted to question it.

"You need more answers, and fast," she said when she returned with two full glasses. "You're having visions." It wasn't a question, and with her knowing what I was thinking before I'd even said it, still made me wonder how it was possible.

How did she really know? Did she hear my thoughts? Did she know what I dreamed? What I wished? Had she known I was coming?

I was freaked out
and
impressed.

"Do you have any idea what they could mean?"

"Explain what you see." She placed the cups on the small coffee table and sat beside me.

I described my dream, what Jess and Isobel had said.

Elandra didn't say anything for a moment, then held up a finger and got up to grab a book from one of her cluttered shelves. She brought it to me.

"This once belonged to my great aunt. It's been passed down in my family for generations. Mediumship runs through our family. I think it could be relevant to you, your predicament."

The book was large and brown with creased blue stains. Most of the pages were torn and too brittle. Elandra showed me a page describing the history of sorcery and their association with Fallion creatures known to humans as Fae. How they once co-existed with witches, and that there was a divine portal separating the Earth plane to theirs.

"Um…what does this have to do with me?" I tried to get my head around the theory of invisible realms and creatures. Like always, I had to see it to be convinced, even now, after all these coincidences.

"I'm not sure," she said. "But I think you have a connection, a power that they need. You see, legend has it that there was once an enemy." Elandra's eyes lit up, but somehow not in a good way.

She looked troubled; her eyes were a watery stain.

"This enemy tried to overtake the Fallion's leaders, and conspired to have them killed with a spell from their sacred Lebrus stone. It's always been a secretive spell, known only to certain Fallions of Shimmarian."

Fallion? Shimmarian? Lebrus stone?
I was wary of listening to her, but also fascinated.

"The enemy became greedy and selfish," Elandra went on, "desiring more than to just live among the Fallions. Instead, they desired complete rulership. Somehow, the Lebrus stone was found along with the Fallion's secrets. When they learned somebody was conspiring to outdo them, that person was cast out of Shimmarian along with the rest of their followers. They were unable to step foot back into their realm. But… the enemy had managed to take the stone, something that would help them to re-enter Shimmarian. It's something Fallions are still fighting to regain."

"I—"

"I think that's where you come in. You're even named after that very stone.
Crystal
. It all makes perfect sense."

"You really think so?"

She nodded. "Do you have any markings?" She scanned me. "Unusual birthmarks?"

My breath caught at the mention of birthmarks. My chest began to feel as though something was sprouting from it. I was relieved to see nothing was. Elandra noticed me clenching the neck of my shirt.

"Is there a mark on your chest, Crystal?"

"Huh?"

"There." She pointed. "Can I see it?" Her eyes shone with excitement.

I gulped, removing my hand.

Elandra eased away the top of my shirt. I didn't dare to look at her face as she did. I felt like a monster already, even if what she said was all over the top. I always hated my birthmark, and now it was giving me another reason to despise it.

"It's remarkable," Elandra whispered. "So precise in shape. Look." I didn't. "Every line is extremely symmetrical and indented, seeming carved into you."

I snapped my shirt closed. "It sounds…I don't know, this all sounds…interesting, but…loopy."

She smiled sympathetically. "Maybe, and yes, I had been doubtful, too, for a long time. But my great aunt believed in the story, and as fellow sorcerers, we have to continue the legacy of our ancestors and their wish to help protect the Fallions. It's my duty to help you. This is the true nature of our beliefs as white witches. It's this kind of evil that has given us the reputation we didn't deserve. Since then our craft has been misjudged, corrupted from the indecent act of one individual from long ago. This is the effect of a devious spirit. They can leave a trail of irreversible dishonor. The Fallions' enemy was despised not only by them but by certain members of their coven. It's believed that person was burned at the stake by their own previous followers."

"I don't see how this has anything to do with me, Elandra, bodily mark or not. I mean why would it? We don't even know if this actually happened." I tried to keep my frustration in check. "But still, I…appreciate you wanting to help."

"But you've seen Fallions in your dreams as a child," she said with smile. "You've experienced their touch. They're described in this book the way you have seen them."

Again I was surprised, but impressed by how she knew all this. I had almost forgotten about those dreams.

Elandra excitedly showed me pictures of petite, elegant figures, dancing and holding hands around a circle.

"I only dreamed of them a few times," I insisted. "And…well, they're kind of the same," I muttered. "What are they dancing around?"

"It's called The Cusp," she said, thrilled to explain. "It's a surrounding of Charlocks. It's innocently branded. Yet within it lies something more powerful. You can still find them in most urban forests, and it's the only doorway to the Fallion's world so that they can also visit ours. Even today, followers of witchcraft gather around it to try and re-connect with them, worshipping for forgiveness, with a hope to cross through again."

I closed the book and handed it back to Elandra. I didn't know what to say or how to react to something so unbelievable, so settled on making small talk, something I was getting good at to cover up how I was really feeling. I hoped.

"How did this book get into your family? It seems like a million years old," I said.

"It's old, but not that old." She laughed. "It's also not as old as something else I possess. A diary. I'm related to one of the women who belonged to the coven the enemy had led. Her name was Elsbeth. She was involved before their ways turned dark. She left to form her own coven. The diary is very faded, though, it isn't even readable."

"And what about this enemy. Do you know who it is? Were they male or female?"

Elandra shook her head. "I don't know." She just looked at me as if I might realize the answer.

"I'm even more confused. What you've told me still doesn't seem to coincide with my life and the world as I see it."

She didn't respond, just stared at me, hopeful.

"But, I appreciate you trying to help clarify what's been happening to me, Elandra. I really do. Thanks." I looked at my watch to give me a reason to leave. The conversation had left me even more confused; shaken, though I tried not to show it. To do that meant I might have to let it sink in and definitely believe in it. Besides, I still wasn't sure what else to say.

Elandra grabbed my hand. "I understand, but you have to believe and trust there is truth to what Jess and Isobel told you; the Fallions hold the key. If you don't mind, I would like you to keep me informed of any new developments. I'm here for you if you need any more help." Her smile was slanted and quivery, desperate for me to say yes.

"I would like that. Thanks again." I mustered a smile.

She escorted me to the front door, placing her hands on my shoulders with one last comment. "Remember, you have the light to clear their darkness, I truly believe that, Crystal. I truly believe you are the one to save your kind." With a kiss on the back of my head, she let go of me with a wave.

My kind?

Was she claiming I was one of the Fallions somehow? A Fae?

My mind became embroiled with images of super beings from another world and witchcraft. The story whirled around in my head, coming to no final conclusion, just sifting its way in and out of my conscience like a nagging ache.

I asked a passerby to direct me to the nearest library. I needed to read up on some local history, find out more from factual sources not the mystical.

I entered a prehistoric building that was so small it looked more like a rest room than a public library. I headed to the not so busy counter where a lady with cropped silver gray hair, peered at me over the glasses like I was rare bacterium.

"What can I do for you?" Her tone was snobbish and with a hint of, "I don't recognize you," as she turned her nose up at me.

"I want to how I can find out more on my family history, please."

"History and local heritage is on the fifth aisle along my left." She pointed with a pen, and then continued writing something more important than new clientele, like a will.

After thanking her and being ignored, I made my way down to the fifth aisle. There were so many books and files I didn't know where to begin. I wasn't sure what was numerical or chronological with a last name and county.

There were only two throwback computers. I had to wait for the three people before me to finish so I could go on the Internet. When it came my turn, I had to dial up a connection, which took up most of my allotted time. It finally connected, but I had nothing much to go by.

I could have been spelling names wrong. Maybe I didn't have a clue what I was doing and needed help. But from whom? The old lady at the desk didn't seem a likely candidate.

Again, I realized I was going to have to find out the truth my way, in my time, even if that meant weeks.

This really wasn't how I wanted to spend my time here. But Jess and Isobel were convinced the tale about my heritage was true, and Elandra knew I was coming, perhaps before I did. I was a skeptic as usual, even now, but I had to give in and explore this.

I had no real choice.

~ * ~

"Cray is waiting for you outside, Crystal. Please do not make him wait," Isobel said when she called me into the study the next afternoon.

Before I could ask why, Syd was guiding me to the front door. It was open, and through the crack I could see Cray pacing the driveway.

"Syd, what are you doing?" Her head was turned away from me. A floppy hat covered her face.

"Taking you to Cray." She pulled me along, but I dragged my feet.

"But I don't want to go to him"

"Oh, but you have to."

"Why?"

"Isobel says so." She wouldn't look at me. Not even when I tripped.

We reached the door. I stopped her hand from opening it any wider to make me visible.

"Why has he agreed to this?" I whispered.

Syd lifted her floppy hat a little, all the while keeping her eyes from directly looking at me.

"I guess he wants to get to know you better."

"Know me?"

Something didn't sound right about the reason, not after our last conversation. He would have wanted to avoid me, like I him. He was being forced. He had to be. I didn't want to spend my day with someone who felt they had better things to do with their limited precious time. Besides, I was still embarrassed about my irrational behavior outside the house that night with him. I wasn't even in the mood for going out. Not with Cray or the likes of Orlando Bloom.