This was the woman who was going to teach me how to stay alive?
“Ivy Taylor, wipe that smug look off your face.” Al’s voice was noticeably less sweet than it was a moment ago. Her black habit swished around her ankles, as she spoke. My eyes darted to the floor. “That’s better,” she said. “Things are not always what they appear.”
I nodded, at a loss for what to say. “Yes ma’am.”
The nun laughed at that. “I’m Sister Althea. You may call me Sister Al.” She extended her speckled hand toward me. I placed my grip in hers. Her ancient shake had the vigor of a twenty-year-old.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. My gaze darted to Eric, who had sat in one of the padded chairs. “My name is Ivy Taylor.”
“I know who you are child. I know that there are great things planned for you. I know you survived already,” she winked when she said survived, “and I know that you feel cast adrift and afraid.”
I felt silly for admitting it to a stranger, but she was right. “That sums it up pretty well.”
“Uh huh. I know so.” She pointed toward a chair on the other side of Eric, and returned to her rocker. “I’m older than dirt, honey. I know lots. Just ask Eric.” She paused for a moment, watching me. “There’s something different about you,” she said. I tried to hide my panic, but I had a feeling that I couldn’t hide anything from this woman. There was something about her. The nun continued, “Yes, something’s different. You carry a burden larger than most. But it’s not beyond you.” Her feet rocked her slowly as she spoke, “Many people wander through this life, unsure of who they are. It doesn’t matter much to them. But it matters to you. The problem is that you see yourself, without really seeing yourself. You have no idea who you are yet. That’s a little unusual, but manageable.”
“So, what do I do?” I asked unsure. She was speaking in riddles. I felt like I should take out a note pad, so I could figure it out later. I hated riddles, mainly because I sucked at them.
Her aged eyes locked with mine, “You need to get rid of that anger seeping into your soul before it pollutes you.” She watched me. Closely. I didn’t move. I neither denied, nor affirmed it. I knew I had issues. But Eric didn’t seem to like her answer. Her arthritic hands grasped the rocker as she leaned forward toward Eric. “You show her how to handle that anger. Teach her to defend herself. And then we’ll train her up right, showing her how to use all her powers—as a Martis.” Her ancient eyes bore into mine, making me flinch.
Eric faltered, reaching for the right words, “Sister, I don’t know what you mean.”
Her head snapped toward him, “You do so, boy. And I expect you to teach her. Without losing that anger festering inside her, she’ll never become who she’s meant to be.”
I snorted, “Meant to be? You think this is all destiny?” I couldn’t help it. “This isn’t destiny! This isn’t fair!” This wasn’t my destiny! It was a death sentence.
Sister Al’s eyes swept across my concealed mark before she smiled gently, and said, “No, it’s not fair that you were turned so young, while I was turned so old. It’s not fair that you had no choice. But you have a choice now. You can choose which side you want to fight for. You can choose whom you align yourself with. And you can choose how you live. Life isn’t fair, child. But you wouldn’t have been chosen if there wasn’t something special about you.” Her skin was weathered like old leather, but her eyes still sparkled like they were young. “Come here Ivy.”
I looked at Eric and he nodded, encouraging me to go. To trust her. I looked at the woman. She was a nun. If I couldn’t trust a nun, I was severely damaged. Feeling silly, I padded across the carpet. It muffled my clumsy steps. I stopped in front of her rocker.
Sister Al leaned forward and said, “May I?” I nodded, not knowing what she was doing. Sister Al pressed her gnarled fingers into my palm. They scratched against my smooth skin like sandpaper. I felt my body tense, unsure of what she was doing. Her gaze remained on my hand, as she blinked slowly. When she released me, she turned her face up to mine. For a moment she said nothing, no sparkle in her eyes—no smile on her face. It was an expression I recognized in the eyes of my mother when she was notified that Apryl died. It was like time froze, and she was too stunned to blink or breathe. Sister Al held the same anguished expression.
When she spoke, her voice was low. “Dear girl.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. “You have a unique set of circumstances, don’t you?” I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, wide eyed waiting for her to out me. “Your vice is also your savior. That is a very sticky situation.”
“What is it?” I asked. My stomach folded over, squashing itself into nausea.
She smiled softly at me, releasing my hand. “Passion. You have the strength to follow through the things that you care about, but you also have the ability to be influenced by the things that haunt you. It’s going to be problematic at some point.
“Your passion will keep you alive Ivy Taylor, but it will also risk your soul. It dictates what you do, how you live, and with whom you lay your loyalties. Oh child. You have so much good in you, and so much darkness too.” Her voice trailed off.
Uncomfortably, I stood there and felt like a big fortune cookie. Sliding my hands in my pockets, I noticed Eric’s eyes on me. His expression wasn’t good. I tried to repress a shiver, but it raked my body, causing my shoulders to twitch. Wanting to kill the horrific silence, I asked, “You read palms?”
Surprise melted the serious look off her face. “Ha!” she snorted, “No, child. But I suppose you can call it something like that. It’s part of the power of the Martis. I’m a Seyer, rare as we are.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say, or what she meant. An uncomfortable silence dragged on, while the two of them stared at me. My fingers nervously clawed my leg through my jean pockets. Finally, I turned my back on them, unable to stand their stares any longer. I paced the room, slowly. Waiting. Eric’s eyes were on me, watching me. He missed nothing. Maybe he was dangerous.
“Eric,” she said. “I want her training to start immediately. Teach her how to fight. We need her to survive, especially after what happened the other night. That Valefar will be gunning for her. And I want you to train her. Not one of the others. You and only you. If you need help with something, you may ask the other Martis, introduce her, but do not allow her to train with them. Got it?” Her gaze landed on him with an intensity that backed the importance of her words.
Eric’s eyes darted between me, and then Al. “Sure, but why me?”
A smile pulled back the corner of her mouth. Aged teeth were revealed behind her thin lips. “You’re the best warrior we have. She needs to learn from the best. That’s all. It won’t interfere with your other duties. You teach her to fight and I’ll teach her the rest. Me and you’ll get her trained in no time.” She folded her gnarled knuckles in her lap, smiling up at me. It was a knowing smile, one that said bad things were coming.
I looked back at her aged face, wondering how I was supposed to survive this. I couldn’t fight. When someone messed with me, I didn’t fight back. I wasn’t that girl. But after Jake attacked me, I wished to God I were that girl. Lying there helpless, well, I was done with that. I never wanted to be trapped like that again. And if it came time to have my soul ripped from my body, or kill—I’d kill. The thought shocked me, but logic intervened. Of course I’d kill. I never wanted to live through that pain again, and I didn’t want anyone else to, either. Not if I could stop it. Determination shot through my veins, flooding my body with resolution. I would learn this. I could do this. I had to.
I nodded at Eric. “Just say when and where. I’ll be there.”
“She’s kinda creepy, Eric.” I didn’t know where to start, but that summed it up. I buckled myself into Eric’s truck.
He snorted a laugh and said, “She’s one of the eldest amongst us. She has some very unusual gifts, and she must think you do too.”
I squirmed, “What makes you say t
hat?”
“She’s treating you differently. And I’ve never heard of one of us having your vice before,” he sounded concerned. “Apparently that’s your strength too.”
“That pretty much sums it up. I’m a passionate nut-job.” I watched the world fly by out the window. The sun had been swallowed by the night sky, and the streetlights glowed a dull yellow.
“Passions are good,” he looked at me, quickly adding, “when they’re kept in check. We need to check yours and keep them there.” He pulled over to the curb a few houses down from my home. “Anger is never good. Do you know what she was talking about? Do you know why you’re angry?”
I kept my eyes staring through the glass at the world outside. Houses lined the street with people inside their happy homes, living normal lives. A life I wanted so desperately that it made me ache. I nodded, “Yeah, I know.” My voice was faint, drained.
Eric said, “I can’t pretend to understand how you feel, so I won’t. I was thrilled I was chosen for this. I can’t imagine being mad about it.” He picked at the seal on his window and glanced at me over his shoulder. I shrugged.
Something told me being marked as a Martis wasn’t what pissed me off. For some reason, Eric assumed that was the source of my anger. In a small way, perhaps it was. I wasn’t happy about being thrust into this—that was for sure. No, the anger that burned within me so fiercely, so passionately, was not from being claimed. It was from being tainted into the beast Shannon described. It was tied to the fear and pain of the memory of my best friend turning on me. And wondering who else would prove disloyal when they saw my mark was the color of the Damned One.
“You’re different… ” I faltered, not knowing what to say.
“Why? Because I was glad this life was thrust on me? On some level, you’re right, Ivy. I won’t deny it. I was thrilled when this happened to me because it meant that I could really help people, and make a difference—even if it cost me my life. I share your passion and zeal.” He paused, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “We’re more alike than you realize. Don’t worry. It’ll work out.”
“I’m not worried,” I lied.
His eyes studied my face. Eric never judged me, he just took in what he saw—a broken mess—and acted like Eric. “Ivy, you were dumped on your head into a life you couldn’t even imagine a week ago. You’re going to go home, eat dinner, and stare at the ceiling until dawn. I know. I did that too. But it gets better.”
I nodded unenthused. “Yup. Sure.”
“Don’t act like that. You’ve been offered a life that most people dream about. And you out of all people should understand that,” he scolded.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means that you get to live a life that makes a difference. It’s a change that you can see over your lifetime, whether it’s for seventeen years or seventeen hundred years. If you destroy one Valefar, you made a difference. You save people. You spread goodness into the world and strike out evil. You get to see your life is not lived in vein. Ivy, hardly anyone is ever granted that gift—ever.” His voice became higher as he finished, “And for some reason it was granted to you, and you’re mad about it.”
His words soaked through my shocked shell. That was part of me—the Martis part. I could feel it swaying to his words, like they were music to my soul. “You’re right.”
“What?” he said surprised.
“I can admit when I’m wrong. I’m wrong to feel mad about all this, but you don’t totally understand.”
“Well, help me then. Tell me.” Eric’s face pleaded. He leaned closer to me, his features illuminated by the dashboard lights.
Should I tell him? The words wanted to roll off the tip of my tongue, Something’s wrong with me Eric. Help me. I wanted to trust him so badly, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him. I bit my lip. “I can’t.”
Looking up at the upholstered ceiling, he let out a whoosh of air, “I can’t figure you out. Ya know that? You sit in class and are smart and pretty. You don’t test well. Anyone can see that it’s the test, not you. Anyone, but you. It makes you think you’re dumb. That same creativity that skews your test scores also lightens your soul. That joy pours into the people around you. I see you Ivy. You’re a good friend to Shannon. And you’re a good friend to that idiot Collin, even though he doesn’t deserve it.” He shook his head and said, “I don’t get it.”
I looked at him. I’d known him for so long, but I never heard him say so much. I asked, “What don’t you get?”
Eric’s face was scrunched tight, “How can you be willing to share that with him? But not me?”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” I squirmed in my seat.
“You trust him. He treats you horribly, throwing you into situations that you shouldn’t be in, and yet, you trust him. I treat you so much better. But before today, you never gave me a second look.” His eyes locked with mine for every heartfelt word. I didn’t know what to say. Collin didn’t treat me horribly, but a lot of people thought my trysts were a result of his influence. They weren’t. They were my own doing, but I wasn’t ready to tell Eric that.
So I said, “I’m sorry.” I paused, trying to tell him. To explain. I took a deep breath. “It’s just… I have a lot of trouble trusting people,” Eric went to interrupt, but I held up my hand to mute him. “Please let me finish. It’s something that I’ve wanted to change, but I can’t. I keep trying, and I keep getting it wrong.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. He shifted in his seat, leaning a little more toward me.
I was slow to answer, not wanting to say it. I wanted to be wrong about Eric. I couldn’t get stabbed in the back again. “Jake. I trusted him, and… ” I didn’t have to say anything else. He put the pieces together. It’s beyond sucking when someone you trusted betrays you. Jake betrayed me, in the worst way possible.
Eric’s arm reached out and brushed my hand. I looked up. He said, “I’ll make sure your faith in me is well placed. You can trust me Ivy. I promise.” His hand was on the seat, next to mine; his eyes were searching my face to see if I believed him. I wanted to, but trust didn’t work like that anymore. Wanting it wasn’t enough.
“I hope so.”
“No, you know so. Listen,” he was confident, “You need friends now more than ever before. You have to trust someone. You can’t do this alone. Loners end up dead. I’ve got your back, Ivy. I’ll train you. I’ll protect you. I won’t ever give you a reason to not trust me. I promise.” His amber eyes were sincere. Guilt racked me, but he kept pushing. I was sitting there lying to his face. He thought I was a pure Martis, his ally. And I knew I wasn’t. I was some messed up hybrid demon angel thing that had to rely on him, or I’d die.
I said, “I hope so.”
“Trust me, Ivy. It’s all I ask. Trust me.” His eyes bore into me.
I knew when my anger started. Although I didn’t like to talk about it, I didn’t see what harm it could do now. I shook my head, “The source of my anger isn’t totally from being marked. It isn’t from now. Jake wasn’t all of it… It’s from before. From Apryl. I lost part of me when she died. It did something to me, and I couldn’t get rid of the anger that burned in my chest. It’s still there. Hollow. Tainting things. I can feel it.”
Eric’s hand slid over mine briefly. “Ah, I do know about that. Al knows more than she says.”
Leaning my head back against the seat, I asked, “What do you mean?”
He sighed, mirroring me, “It was a long time ago. I tried to hide it. I didn’t think anyone knew. Lydia, my… Well, I was angry. I lost her, kind of the same way you lost your sister. That’s why Al wanted me to help you. She knew I went through something similar.” An odd sensation flooded me. I’d never talked about Apryl with anyone, outside my family. None of my friends had to deal with death. I was stuck learning how to cope, alone. It took me a minute to identify the sensation bubbling up inside of me—hope.
“You were angry?” I asked. He nodded.
“The blackness, Eric. How did you keep it away? How did you keep it from swallowing you whole?” I felt my brow pinched together, and the moisture in my eyes. Verbalizing my battle made it seem like it would end soon.
His caramel eyes looked sad. “It did swallow me. I let the darkness flood me, until I didn’t want to take another breath. I know what you’re talking about. It takes time… and trust. So, what do you say?”
What am I supposed to say? I shook my head, “It’ll take me time. I want to trust you, Eric, I do. It’s just that… ”
Leaning forward he said, “What? Tell me.”
I shook my head, “I’m a mess.” Was it possible? If I hinted enough, would he get it? If Shannon knew of the prophecy, he had to know, too. “I’m not what you think.” I reached for the door, and opened it, as I slid off the seat.
Before my feet hit the ground, I felt Eric’s hand on my wrist. “Wait. I’m not gonna push you. You tell me when you’re ready. In the meantime, know I’m here, and I’m your friend. And Ivy,” he smiled at me, “I already know you’re a mess. It’s part of your charm.”