The Star Child (The Star Child Series) (9 page)

There were roughly fifty letters in the stacks that I’d found within the attic room. Half were for me, the other half for Roger. Each dated note was like a journal entry, with the only difference being that the entries were addressed to us boys and not merely designed for personal reflection.

They chronicled Addison’s experience in the hospital, from her admission to the day of her death. They brought me closer to her, but at the same time pushed her farther away. Alistair was as surprised as I was by all of the information. We sat in silence on the line for several moments before I finally ended the call.

“I’m going to go back to bed, Alistair. I’m beat.”

“Do you want to come back and stay with me for a while? Maybe being out there on your own isn’t a good plan.”

I’d have to deal with what I’d learned, whether I stayed here or went to London. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right. I think I want the alone time for a little while. You know, experience life without any drama.”

“I understand. Call me if you change your mind?”

“Promise.” Saying goodbye, I hung up the phone, walked over to the couch and crashed. Sleep began to wash over me and slowly the pain receded.

***

When I woke up, it was early evening. Gingerly, I raised myself into a sitting position, reaching for a half-consumed bottle of water that I’d left on the coffee table.

“It is about time that you woke up. I have been waiting entirely too long for you, Kellen St. James.”

I jumped up. The bottle that I’d uncapped slipped from my hands and bounced on the floor. Its contents covered the carpet. “Crap.” After taking a split-second to regain my composure, I let my gaze wash over the door that led to the back of the house.

And there she stood. Calienta, the girl who featured so prominently in my dreams, was staring right at me.

“Oh, this is great. I’ve absolutely lost my mind. I have one dream about a mental hospital and now I’m hallucinating?” I turned my back on my hallucination and started to tidy up the mess that I’d made; the impact was widespread but easy to clean up.

When I looked up again, I expected not to see her, but there she remained. Unsettled, I was convinced that this meant that I was now having imagined conversations with Calienta when I
wasn’t
sleeping, which distressed me greatly on many levels.

She walked closer toward me, her simple white dress moving as she walked. “You are not hallucinating.”

I took a couple of steps back instinctively. She laughed at me, clearly finding my response funny.

Letting my gaze travel over her, I noted that she looked pretty real for a hallucination. “Calienta? Is that really you?”

“It is really me.”

But how could it be?
“Who are you really?” Continuing to back away, I took in more of her features as I did so. She was still the same little girl that I remembered. In fact, she hadn’t changed or aged at all.

“I told you.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

Fire built up behind her eyes. I’d angered her.

“What kind of welcome is this? You are the one who said you didn’t want me to go. That you wanted to come with me.”

“That was eleven years ago.”

She ignored my response. “If you wanted to come with me so badly, why do you seem so unhappy to see me now?”

“I thought you were a hallucination then, too.”

“No, you did not. If you thought I was a hallucination, why did you ask your grandmother about me? I do not believe it. Do you truly doubt my existence now?”

“Um, yeah. Kind of. I must be losing my mind or something. How do you know I asked Gran?” Great, I was talking to my hallucination. It was official. All those years of having such a messed up family were finally catching up with me.

“Kellen, I am not a product of an overactive imagination. You have known me all these years and welcomed me into your dreams.”

“How do you know about my dreams?”

“I know because I was the one making you have them. If I had known that it would take you so long to grow up, I might have saved myself the trouble.”

“What? Wait. You were
making
me have those dreams? How is that even possible?”

“There are many possibilities that you have not even considered, mortal.”

“Listen, now I’m starting to get ticked off. I find a stranger in my house, possibly a hallucination, and now she’s insulting me?”

“I have never been a stranger to you.”

My brows furrowed. “Who are you, anyway?”

“You know exactly who I am.”

“No, I don’t. That was a dream. You aren’t real.” I refused to give in, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“I am real, and what I am is your destiny.” She tried to take my hand.

“What you are is jail bait.” I snatched my hand away. She was six years old, for crying out loud. “You’re just a kid.”

However, I was immediately forced to bite back my words. Instantly, she began to age right in front of my face.

At first, the changes were subtle. There was the slow lengthening of her torso as she grew in height, the tightening of her skin as the youthful roundness of her ivory face vanished. Her pale brown hair grew thicker, darker, framing her face and her wide blue eyes. In the span of ten seconds, we seemed exactly the same age.

“You were saying?” Her words were a challenge.

Backing away, I felt unsure, nervous. Who was this creature? Gran had told enough Irish legends to make me pause. Before, I never used to believe in that stuff; faerie folk, changelings, spirits weren’t real to me. However, I couldn’t explain any of this, and I wasn’t buying that she was who she claimed to be.

Her features softened and she looked at me with tenderness. “Kellen, I am very sorry about that. However, you would have only recognized me as a child and I needed for you to remember me. I am not a hallucination and you know it. I’m really here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I told you about this in your dreams. If you would only pay more attention.” Her last words were stern, but her smile warmed the reproof. I found myself smiling back without thinking. Realizing what I was doing, I forced a frown.
What was I doing? Idiot.

“Look, I’ve had a really long couple of days. Leave me alone.” I closed my eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I am sorry that you had to find out about your mother in that way, Kellen. She was a remarkable woman.” Her words were spoken with sympathy, but they angered me. What I’d learned about my mother tore me up inside. It was mine, my personal pain. There was no way that she could know about it.

“How do you know about my mother?”

“I know everything about you, but you know nothing about me. There is so much to say and very little time.”

I’d no idea what was going on here, but the logical, rational side of me said that I needed to get this person out of the house. Yet there was another part, the lonely part, which screamed at me to do whatever Calienta asked, without question.

“I know that you remember me.”

I stared at her, this mystery girl who’d been a part of my life for so long. Suddenly I was tired and didn’t want to argue. It unnerved me to know that I wanted to stay with her; I’d been wrong. I loathed being in Gran’s house alone, with only memories for company. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Though my voice was soft and gentle, my words had a powerful effect on the young woman in front of me. She blushed crimson and glanced down to hide her face. “Please come with me.”

Slowly, I placed my hand in hers. It was warm, as in my memory. “Where are we going?”

“I need to show you. Otherwise, you will think I am a hallucination again.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

She didn’t answer me, but she smiled back as she handed me a rough-looking knife with a black handle. “Put this in your pocket.”

“Are you anticipating that I’ll have to stab someone on the trip?” I wasn’t the kind of guy who routinely carried weapons around. More often than not, I could be a bit uncoordinated.

“I hope it does not come to that.” And before I could register that remark, I found myself running out into the night with her.

“Where are we going?”

We reached the steps that led down the cliff face. A dog howled in the night, setting an ominous tone for our journey. Calienta glanced at me for a moment but didn’t answer as she turned back to the direction in which we were heading. She pulled me close to her.

My hand burned where she held it and the air around us was thick with tension; that was how aware I was of her physically. A storm brewed between us.

There were no outside lights on, as I’d forgotten to turn them on. Home ownership was a new responsibility for me. To make matters worse, it started to rain, the long grass becoming slick and damp.

My clothes were getting soaked; Calienta, on the other hand, was completely dry. She started down the steps using the light to guide her. I followed.
Where did she get a lantern?

This very question was just about to pass my lips when I lost my footing on the stairs. Falling, I slammed my elbow into the aged wood. It burned instantly, which told me that it was probably cut or possibly broken. Hesitantly, I stood up, taking care not to use my right arm for fear I’d cry out.

Though it seemed as though the entire staircase shook when I fell, it was now stable. We were able to make it safely to the land below. I relaxed a little then, but not much. It was almost high tide, and the waves were going to envelop us.

“What’re you doing? Are you trying to drown us both?” The waves rushed in and beat against my damaged arm.

She shook her head but didn’t speak, and I followed her toward a narrow opening in the rock. Calienta jumped lithely through the entrance with remarkable agility. Blinking, I remained in place, but she turned and waited for me, extending a firm hand to practically pull me atop the rock.

When I reached the top, she carefully touched my injured arm. At first, the warmth was pleasant and seemed to soothe the pain I was feeling after my swim in the cold sea. Suddenly it was too warm, hot even, and I cried out as my arm began to burn and I jerked it away. The heat subsided after a moment. With it went any pain. It was healed.

Calienta smiled. “Sorry for the burning sensation, but any time we try to correct the past there is a price.”

“What are you?” She wasn’t my age, that was certain, and I was sure she wasn’t human. No one could age that fast.

“In time.” She pulled on my hand again and we started to walk toward a tiny crevice. Closer inspection revealed that the opening was actually quite large, though I’d never have noticed it if it hadn’t been pointed out to me. Pulling myself up on top of a neighboring rock, I entered the cave.

Inside the cave, there were some crudely made stairs in the back of the main chamber. These wound their way at an angle around the walls and ended forty feet up at the entrance to an antechamber. I tried not to think about it, but I was sure that some extremely nasty things were living in there.

We didn’t speak as we hastily made our way toward the stairs and began to slowly climb them. There was no railing to hold onto on the narrow set of steps, so it was a slow process. After a time, we reached a room at the very top and I breathed a small sigh of relief at being able to abandon the stairs.

As we walked into the chamber, I immediately noticed the faint hint of ocean in the salty air that permeated the space. Calienta went to light some torches that rested in brackets along the wall. With the room lit, it was much more comfortable; though I was sure I detected a sense of unease from my companion as we moved toward a larger room off to the right.

It was odd, but it seemed as though I could sense each nuance of emotion that she experienced. Her annoyance in the house, her excitement during our short journey, and now this wariness that I was unable to identify the source of—I picked up on all of it. It made me anxious to have such a connection to her, but at the same time I wanted that closeness.

We entered the next room and she repeated the process of lighting torches. Staying by the entryway, I remained ever-skeptical, fearful of what the room held. My brain was working overtime, and I started to wonder if she was some sort of serial killer or something.

As I followed Calienta deeper into the room, I expected to see corpses on the floor. Maybe this young woman’s latest victim would be here. It was not long before the room was well lit, and I took a moment to adjust my eyes before I blinked.

We were inside a large circular room. The floor was dirt; the walls were constructed of crude stone. However, it wasn’t the lack of décor that made it stand out; what made it unique was that every square inch of wall space was covered in drawings.

The paint was metallic; the colors used were of an extremely varied palette. Rich rusts, blood reds, and deep shades of blue covered the space in almost its entirety. Ironically, it reminded me of some of the paintings I’d seen in Catholic churches, though I was certain that no priests had created these works of art.

Calienta walked to the center of the room and turned to face me. She seemed both nervous and determined at the same time, looking up at me through hooded eyes.

“I suppose that you are wondering where you are. This place is called Fròg. It was a Pagan meeting place.”

The images on the walls had me entranced. I had to force myself to look at her, which was an enormous testament to the talent of the artists.

“When the Crusaders sought out anyone who did not worship Christ, Pagan worshippers were forced to hide underground during those dark times. This was one of their hiding places.”

“I thought that Pagans weren’t good. That they were Satan worshippers.” From my history classes, I remembered that there had been quite a bit of academic writing on this topic, disputing this notion. However, I still recognized the need to discuss the obvious stereotype.

“No. Pagans relied on the elements and charted the progress of the sun and the moon to determine future events. But I suppose that, in every religion, there are those who choose the side of good and those who choose evil.”