Noir

Lyra

1998

“I know you’re hiding, little witch—the essence of your magic fills the air with its enticement. It puzzles me though of why it’s so strong; it’s unnatural for a speller of your age to carry so much power. Your essence carries another fragrance upon it as well—something different, something I have not encountered before. It intrigues me, makes me want to explore your origins. However, I have not the time, so for now, young speller, I will let you be. Now that you know I have your smell, hide yourself behind what wards you will, but know I will find you. And when I do, I will learn what secrets your blood carries....

My scream woke me—a gut-wrenching issuance that rose and fell in a litany of pain and sorrow. Though I was awake, I remained locked in the nightmare of that day and my mind reeled backwards once again.

With a light scratch of my fingers, I offered a silent thank you to the ancient oak for assisting me. Afterward, slowly, and as quietly as I could, I cautiously stepped several feet from the tree. Two years ago, I had found I could meld with the trees, my skin taking on the grayish-brown hew of their bark. It was the perfect hiding place, as my flesh actually became as rough as that of the tree’s bark; there was no discerning a difference between us.

Half an hour earlier, I’d shielded myself within the oak when Mama had cried, “Red.”

For as long as I could remember, the word had signified that danger was near.

“What is the danger word?” Mom had questioned of me many times.

Dutifully, I’d always replied, “Red.”

“And what is the all clear word?” she’d continue.

I’d come back with, “Golden.”

With a satisfied bob of her head, she’d murmur, “Good,” then she’d follow with the instructions, “Remember those words, honey. Bless the Goddess, it never happens, but there may come a day we have to use them.”

I’d never truly understood why she’d felt the necessity of pounding them into my head, but whatever her reason, I’d felt it must be important, so I’d locked the words away within Elouise—the imaginary daisy-covered box in my head. I stored everything of great importance, or that was special to me, within her. I’d often wondered if there was anyone else who had an imaginary secret box in their head, or if it was just me.

Slowly, I came out of my musings and my surroundings came back into focus, as did the awareness of why I’d been in hiding. It seemed I had been in hiding forever as I’d waited for Mama’s “Golden,” but I still hadn’t heard her say the word.

Now, having stepped out of hiding, uncertainty flagged me and I sent my senses outward, looking for the static charge which had accompanied the stranger. I hadn’t found his charge, but hadn’t found Mama’s either.

With a soft inhalation of unease, I softly called, “Mama?” But I received no response. Again, I called, “Mama?” This time my voice was stronger, as I wanted it to reach further into the dense forest. But again, Mama didn’t answer.

“Mama?” I tried once more, my voice carrying a growing anxiety within it. But again, nothing. The only sounds to greet my calls were those of the forest, and a ripple of fear fluttered through my system.

With a thick swallow for what I was about to do, as I was again breaking the rules, I sunk to my knees and placed my hands on the earth. With a soft whisper passing through my lips, I spelled the plants to find Mama.

With the completion of my small chant, the flora of the forest floor stirred, and a small issuance of growth spread outward, weaving further and further away from me in their search.

Minutes passed, yet I still hadn’t found Mama. With my fingertips continuing to pulse, I urged the plant-life to search further into the forest. Several more moments passed, then several more, the growth reaching out further and further. By now, the growth had searched a wide swath of the forest, yet Mama remained missing.

With a small cry, I jumped to my feet and gazed around me as, voice shrill in my fear, I screamed, “Mama?”

Again, nothing....

The salty, bitter taste of my tears jarred me out of my waking nightmare, and reaching down with one hand, I grasped the chain around my neck, working my fingers down the links until I found the pendant at the end. I wiped at the moisture on my cheeks with the other.

Afterward, wrapping my fingers around the simple, yet elegant stone, I clutched it within my fingers, pulling strength from its presence. I’d had the nightmare every night for weeks now, ever since Mama had gone missing, and though I had returned to the forest every day in search of her, I had yet to find her. Instead, at ten-years-old, I found myself alone. Well, that wasn’t entirely the truth, I thought as I gazed at the squeaking creature beside me, staring at its pink, twitchy nose and the inch long whiskers that moved with each twitch.

With a slow blink, I peered closer, positive I had just seen the thing wink at me. However, now the rat’s two beady eyes gazed just as intently at me as I was at it. With only the slightest hesitation, as I had no idea when I would garner any form of food again, I tore off a small chunk of the stale, day-old bread I’d fished out of the garbage bin, and tossed the morsel toward the rat. I wasn’t selfish as I very well understood hunger, a sensation I had become well acquainted with over the past weeks.

Hours earlier I’d gorged myself on a large, portion of the swiped bread and had fallen into an exhausted sleep in the small space between the two large dumpsters where I had settled for the night, and now, carelessly, I remained sitting, watching the rat as it picked up the morsel.

At the scrape of a shoe, my head jerked up, and I gazed in dismay at a set of jean-clad legs blocking my exit. Fear running through me, I stared at the legs as they bent at the knees before the figure of a man dropped before me. I gazed into a face that held the most unusual amber eyes I had ever seen, as he remarked, “Jeez Louise, you stink!”