CHAPTER FIVE
That night I ate dinner quickly and quietly and went straight back to my room. My parents knocked on my door a couple of times to see if I was okay, and I did my best to pretend I was. They left me alone, either because I was convincing or out of respect for my personal space.
That night I couldn’t sleep. In part it was because there was too much to think about, and partially because I wanted to sit by my window and see if anything would happen in the graveyard that night. Now that I knew to expect supernatural stuff to happen, I was anxious to see what was going on in our neighborhood.
Up until about one in the morning nothing too exciting happened. I saw a couple of ghosts walk through at about eleven, but it was brief. I was just about to give up and go to bed, but then I saw a figure dart through the cemetery, stopping to hide behind a tree. I waited, sitting as still as I could, alert for any further movement. It took another twenty minutes, but another similar figure darted in and hid behind a tree as well. Within the next ten minutes more and more came in, each choosing a tree to use as cover.
I don’t know what they were hiding from, but I knew it probably wasn’t me, as a couple that came in hid on the side of the tree that was facing me, so I got a good look at it.
They were about the size of children, but their proportions suggested they were fully grown. They were also really, really skinny, which made their limbs look really long. They were all one color – their skin, their hair, and their clothes. I couldn’t tell where their skin ended and their hair and clothes began. In fact, it was hard to tell if they even had clothes on, though there was a break at their wrists that suggested they had sleeves on, so I hoped that they were clothed. I couldn’t tell what color they were exactly, but they were a pretty light color in the moonlight, and if I caught one moving out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn they were giving off a greenish-bluish color. Their hair floated in the air, making it look like they were floating in the water.
Soon they all must have arrived, because they started moving away from the trees and approaching each headstone.
I watched as they each produced small candles - little tea light candles, really - and place them on each gravestone they stopped at. They lit them up, one by one, and watched for about ten seconds as each light burned. The interesting thing was that each flame burned a slightly different color than the next. Most were a cool blue or turquoise, but some burned more greenish and there were even a couple that burned yellow or orange. After they observed the candle on one stone, they moved to the next stone and lit up a new candle, leaving the one previous to continue burning. There were at least a dozen of the creatures, and the cemetery wasn't very big, so in all it took about a half hour for the entire cemetery to be lit up with these candles. The effect was beautiful, all these soft, flickering lights glowing in the night, and these small, graceful creatures weaving their way through the gravestones.
Once they finished lighting up a candle on each of the headstones, they gathered in the middle of the graveyard and circled together, facing in and holding hands. It was too far away to say for sure, but I think they were chanting something. It only took about a minute for them to finish this chant, and they all started moving in a group to each of the headstones that had candles that burned a warmer color. They circled the headstone and put their hands in the middle and chanted another chant. The warmer the color was, the longer they had to chant. By the end of their chant the candle would be a cool blue again, and they moved to the next candle that burned a warmer color. It was fascinating, how gracefully they completed this ritual, yet how quickly they got it done. There were only around twenty or so candles that they needed to take care of, and when they finished they went back to the center of the graveyard and did another chant in a circle, this time facing out. When they let go of each others' hands, all the candles went out at the same time. Each creature helped gather up the candles, and when the last one was gathered, they left. From the time they lit the first candle to cleaning up the last one, about an hour and a half had passed by.
I wasn't sure what they were, but I suddenly felt more at peace than I had in a long time. It was a beautiful ritual, whatever it was, and I knew that no creature could create something that beautiful and be evil. It was comforting to know that, in a world filled with vampires and werewolves and ghosts, there were beings of good, too.
I was tired, definitely, but still not sleepy. I leaned against the window sill and rested my chin on my folded arms. I waited another forty five minutes at my window before something else passed by. I knew right away it was a vampire, thanks to Jack's through description. She was a decently-made vampire, nothing like the zombie-like creatures I had seen my first night next to my window, but she walked with a limp and looked too pale and gaunt to be human. She was holding her arm and looking around, as though she was paranoid someone was following her. Suddenly a figure jumped from a tree branch, knocking her down onto the ground. The figure had a stake in hand and in one quick motion thrust it up beneath the sternum into the heart.
Jack pulled the stake out of the decomposing pile of flesh and cleaned it against the grass. He stood up, put it back in his trench coat, and looked up to my window. He smiled and held a hand up in greeting. I smiled back, and he turned around to leave.
I must have fallen asleep pretty quickly after that, because the next thing I remember is hearing my mom’s panicked voice and being shaken. I slowly sat up, stretching my aching arms and shoulders. I was still in my seat in front of my window, and judging from the amount of light coming in I guessed that I had definitely slept way past my alarm. I didn't care, though. Even though I had just woken up, I felt like I had a clear head and knew exactly how my day was going to go.
"My goodness, what were you DOING last night?!" My mom asked, the tone in her voice indicating she was barely capable of keeping from yelling at me.
"Watching the graveyard." I replied matter-of-factly.
"What did you do to your room? It's a disaster!"
"I was angry with it and moved everything around. Thanks for asking how I'm doing, by the way. Decor before daughter, that's gotta be a successful parenting technique."
She stood there with her mouth open. I don't blame her; my siblings and I treated our parents with nothing but respect, even when we were mad at them. Most of the time we just gave our parents the silent treatment when we wanted to let them know we didn't like what they were saying or doing, and while I was a pretty sarcastic person to everyone else, I did my best to bite my tongue around mom and dad. Never, in the history of our family, had anyone said anything rude to mom. She narrowed her eyes and looked at my neck.
"Are you wearing your necklace?" She asked, her mood switching from a more explosive rage to a quiet, dangerous anger.
"No. Why does it matter? Is it supposed to keep me from speaking my mind? Or is there so you can control what I do?" Uh oh. I was angry, but I'd never been THIS way before. I was actually trying to start a fight with my mom, and I couldn't stop myself. I stood up to get in her face and started yelling. "No good parent would keep secrets like you and dad have from their kids!"
She slapped me. I slapped her back. I was seeing everything through a wall of red, and my temper was quickly slipping out of my control. All the peacefulness and clarity of thought I had gotten from the night before was nowhere to be found. I felt like vessel for anger. "You BITCH!" I yelled, and made a fist, ready to cause some serious damage.
But my mom was quick, and in one fluid moment caught my fist and slipped something around my wrist. I immediately felt like someone had spun me around until I was dizzy, and then dropped me into a freezing cold pool of water. I sat on the edge of my bed, nauseous. Mom leaned down so her face was level with mine, and asked, "Are you okay?" I nodded. "I need you to tell me where you put your necklace."
I was still nauseous. I took a deep breath in, deep breath out, and manag
ed to whisper "drawer" before leaning over the side of my bed and vomiting.
My mother looked in my desk and found my necklace quickly. She handled it carefully, as though it were made of glass, inspecting each bead carefully. She walked over to me, put the necklace around my neck, then took her bracelet back, slipping it around her own wrist. She smoothed my hair and said in the most soothing voice possible, "Let's get you cleaned up. And then we'll talk."
I let out a weak little laugh. "I had a plan today. I was going to tell you and dad... that I needed to stay home 'sick' from school today, so we could all talk."
Mom smiled. "I think that given the circumstances, that's an excellent idea."
Mom and Dad called in to work, Mom claiming she was sick and Dad telling his employees that his wife and daughter were incredibly ill and needed him to make sure they didn't get worse. This was probably half true, given my current state.
After I ate breakfast, we stayed sitting at the kitchen table and talked for hours. They told me everything - not just about their being wardcarvers, but why my necklace was important and why we moved so often. I told them all I knew - some of which surprised them, and some of which didn't.
When my mom and dad were teenagers, they each discovered that when they drew certain pictures, the way people acted around them changed. It took a long time for them to figure out the correlation, of course, and neither of them truly believed it until they met each other in college. Mom was older by a couple of years, and was on her last semester before graduating in medieval literature. Dad was only a few semesters in, and even though he was majoring in architecture, he minored in medieval literature, so they met at one of their literature classes. They immediately hit it off, though in hindsight it was obvious why - my mother's name is "Lucie", which means "light", and my father's name is "Geth", which means "dark". They were the perfect complement to each other, and while over time they assimilated each others' personalities, during their college years their personalities matched their names perfectly. Mom was bubbly and outgoing, though easily distracted, which showed in her hasty schoolwork. Dad was more quiet and reserved, and had a tendency to over think things, which often resulted in work too complicated to understand.
Once they found out that they could each draw pictures that had power, they were thrilled to find someone else that could do what they could do, and they started researching why they could do it - it was part of the reason why they were studying medieval literature. They would have access to books and records that took seriously what modern scientists would dismiss as voodoo.
Over time they discovered that they had the rare talent of wardcarvers, and that by etching or carving wards into metal or wood, their wards would be more stable and powerful. They started working as a team - mom, who was good at researching a lot of material in a small amount of time, was able to draw up wards that had great meaning, while dad, who was patient enough to sit and concentrate for long amounts of time, was able to accurately carve these symbols into wood.
They eventually got married and soon after were pregnant with Ammon. They were young, Dad had to explain to me at this point, and didn't fully comprehend the power names had, especially from families that had the potential for great power running through their veins. It wasn't until after Ammon was born that they looked up the meaning of his name, and discovered that the Egyptian god of Air was named Amon. They didn't think about it much at first, but when he hit his "terrible twos" they discovered that he took after his name. He never walked anywhere; he ran. He couldn't focus on any one thing for longer than a few minutes, and he constantly wanted to play "extreme hide and go seek", where he changed his hiding spot every minute or so.
When they discovered they were pregnant with a daughter when Ammon was two and a half, they were much wiser at this point and knew that they had to name her Terra. Earth was the opposite of air; hopefully having a daughter named after the earth would bring balance to the household.
It did, but they didn’t live peacefully for long. Mom and dad were suddenly thrown into the world of the supernatural when they were attacked by a demonling in the middle of the night. They were saved by a half vampire that had been pursuing the creature that night. They were terrified, naturally, though the half vampire was patient and was willing to explain what had just happened. She - the half vampire - told them that wardcarvers were often targets of beings of evil, since they could create powerful items that dispelled evil. If the demon knew where they lived, then others were sure to follow. The half vampire told them that they would be safest in large cities, or places with a lot of people. It would be difficult to find them with so many people around them, since the aura they now carried with them would just mix and dissolve with the other auras in the city.
She didn't realize how powerful my parents were, though, and it was difficult to hide their aura for very long. Once they got rooted in an area, they would start attracting attention and they would have to move. Having another kid wasn't the first thing on their mind, but soon mom was pregnant again, I was born, and they realized that they had no choice but to continue to attempt to bring balance to the family and gave me a name that meant "born of fire." Life continued on in this pattern, where they would move, settle down, then be forced to move again. Arvin (which, as you can probably guess at this point, means "water") arrived, and they finally felt that none of their kids would get too out of control. We calmed down a bit, but still had a tendency to get in trouble when we were apart. That's where my necklace came from - the silver pendant represented me, and five of the beads represented my sister, brothers, and mom and dad. They threw on a few extra wards, the protective and concerned parents that they are, which brings us up to this point.
The bead at the clasp of my necklace was their "sealing" symbol - the symbol they put on every piece they did to show that they worked on it together, and to strengthen the wards that were there. After the five beads for my family, one bead was for luck, one was for health, and one was for protection.
"When we made that particular bead, we were still young and didn't realize that we had created a situation that not only protected you from those that would cause you harm, but it protected you from seeing the truth. We wouldn't have realized it until you mentioned those nights that you saw stuff in the graveyard." My dad explained.
"I didn't say I saw anything there, though. I just mentioned noises and asked if you believe in ghosts. Instead of lying to me you could have just told me then." I was a little irritated about that.
"Yes, well, we never said 'yes' or 'no' to your questions. We couldn't lie to you, but you had never mentioned anything supernatural until then, so we panicked and handled it the way we thought best."
"You knew what I was talking about?"
"Yes. We were aware of what had happened those two nights."
"You sewed the beads onto my curtains?"
"Yes. Running water is a fairly universal symbol to dispel evil, so falling water and ripples seemed appropriate, since we weren't sure what was going to pop up next. We sewed beads onto all the curtains in our house, just as a precaution."
"So what does that have to do with this bead on my necklace? What changed?"
Mom spoke up at this point. "You know your nervous habit of rubbing the beads? You had managed to rub down part of the symbol on the bead of protection. I'll have to do research, but it must have been the part that protected you from seeing the evil around you. I think you're still safe from the harm of others, but we'll make a new bead for you anyway. And... we're sorry about making you wear it. The necklace, I mean. We forgot how much of a balance it was to you. Your... outburst... this morning proved that."
"What do you mean?"
"Your personality reflects what fire would act like if it were personified. Before we gave you that necklace, you had a tendency to feel emotions to the extreme. If you were sad, you'd be sobbing. If you were angry, you were
throwing things around. If you were happy, you couldn't stop laughing and trying to make others laugh. You’re still the most emotional child I’ve ever met, but back then… well, it was never boring with you, that's for certain." Dad gave me an encouraging smile.
"So... when Mom put her bracelet on me this morning, it was to bring balance to my emotions again?"
"That was the intent, yes, though it didn't work as well as your necklace would have. Her bracelet was specifically made for her, which is why you became sick after she put it on you. It brought balance, but not the right kind of balance, and with you on a rampage it would have been like... well, like forcing you to swim in a race after you had been training for tennis for a year. Your body doesn't have the right memory for it, so it was rebelling against the new situation."
"Do I have to wear this necklace for the rest of my life?"
Mom and dad were silent for a moment, and gave each other looks that told me I wasn't going to be happy with their response.
"There are... outlets. Each of your siblings has a similar piece of jewelry or accessory to keep with them, but they each have activities they can do that help them maintain a natural balance, so it's not necessary for them." Mom explained.
Dad interrupted, eager to explain this part. "Ammon is fine as long as he's traveling. We've always tried to find a place with room for a garden for Terra to take care of. Arvin is still pretty young, so we try to make sure he carries the keychain we made for him around at all times, but we're going to enroll him in swimming soon."
"So... what about me? What's my outlet?"
"We... don't know. Sweetie, you have to understand, fire is very unpredictable. We never knew how you were going to feel when you woke up in the morning, how you were going to structure your day. You could never follow a schedule because you always did whatever you wanted. We were afraid that there wouldn't be a safe activity for you to practice, and that you would have to find a way to set stuff on fire in order to find your proper outlet." Dad tried to take my hand to comfort me, but I didn't want him to touch me. The tears in my eyes were going to start falling if he did, and I wanted to be strong.
"So you're saying I'm stuck with this? But... I've set stuff on fire before! I burn the origami figures I make at least once a year, and I'm very careful about it! I've never let the fire get out of control!"
"But you've always had your necklace on. You have an affinity for fire - you could probably make a campfire in the middle of a wheat field during a drought and it wouldn't leave the area you designate it to be in. Our concern isn't about you controlling the fire, it's controlling yourself. We don't know that you wouldn't want to set even more things on fire, and let your desire to be around fire grow until you're setting fire to things that should be left alone. We trust you, and we love you, and it's our fault for putting you in this situation. We cannot tell you how much we regret what we've done to you."
Now I was crying silently. I sniffed and asked, "Does Ammon and Terra and Arvin know about... everything? All the stuff you've just told me?"
Mom twitched a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I don't know. If they do, they've never mentioned it to us. Even though Ammon and Terra have days where they don't wear their wards, they still wear them most of the time, so I'm assuming that ward of protection is still intact for them. And when they aren't wearing them... well, people don't look for what they don't expect or want to see."
"So I've heard. But I did see things. I didn't expect to see vampires that night, but I still saw them."
"You're a very bright person, and open to new ideas. I think you saw them because you had already been suspicious of the graveyard, and seeing monsters there didn't go against your expectations,” Dad suggested.
"Don't you have to tell Ammon and Terra and Arvin about all this magic eventually? They can't go their whole lives without suspecting something, right? What if they start drawing wards and are targeted by demons and stuff?"
"None of you have shown signs of inheriting our abilities. If you weren't surrounded by so much magic, or if your father and I didn't have the abilities we have, it's entirely possible that your names would just be names, with no symbolism or power behind them at all. We'd like to think that eventually Ammon will spend enough time away from us and balance his life out through enough traveling that the wind will work out of him and he can settle down and live a normal life, none the wiser of the world he has unknowingly lived in the first part of his life. Or it's possible he will have to travel for the rest of his life. I don't know. Either way, though, he won't draw any unwanted attention to himself. Wherever he goes it will be windy when he wants it to, and still when he doesn’t care. I’m sure he doesn’t even realize he’s capable of that. Beyond that, he has no special abilities, not unless he consciously tries to develop them."
I realized I was rubbing the pendant on my necklace, then let it go. Suddenly this piece of jewelry that had been the one constant in my life felt like a prison. I was still crying, but only a few tears. Mom and dad were quiet, waiting until I was ready to talk again to continue this conversation. I decided to switch up topics a little bit.
"Why did we live in San Francisco so long? And what caused us to move here?"
Dad actually laughed at this a bit. "Oh man. San Francisco was great for us because it is so full of magic. We probably could have lived there forever and never have been found. Did you know that the Adams' had elf blood in them?"
"Wait... our next door neighbors? They were elves?!"
"Only partly. But enough that they were able to perform magic. And we were pretty sure that your principle had troll blood in him, though very diluted."
I gave the first genuine laugh I had all day at this.
"To answer your second question, we got an offer that we couldn't pass up. A man named Calvin Briggs contacted us and said he was going to build a group to teach those who have the potential to become wardcarvers how to develop their talents, and he wanted us to help teach the kids he found. From what he told us, there are only five fully practicing wardcarvers in the entire world, and we're the only two in the United States. One lives in Germany, one in Italy, and one lives in India, so it's important that we try to develop those that have the talent so we're not spread so thin."
"But... why here? Aren't we in danger since this place is so small and rural? Don't you attract a lot of attention?"
"Part of the reason this is a good place is because it's a good, medium-sized town. Not so small as to attract a lot of attention, but not too large as to get confused in the noise of the place. That, and this place is actually fairly saturated with magic. The mountains are home to trolls, the forest is full of dryads and elves, and... well, magic attracts magic, so there's lots of people here that are involved in the supernatural, whether they are aware of it or not."
I nodded, finally understanding. "Okay. That's fair enough. I don’t really like it here, you know. It never felt right to me, even though I’m trying really hard to like it."
Mom and dad nodded, but didn't seem too upset. "We don't expect you to like it. But we'd appreciate it if you tried to tolerate it. And now that you know all this, maybe it won't be so bad."
"Maybe." I wasn't going to have any new expectations of this place, but I was at least a little hopeful.
After we were finished talking, I asked my parents about the wards we had around our house. The sun, which was the most common ward, represented clarity. The mask torn in half represented truth. Trees were a common symbol to ward off evil, so they were put as close to doors as possible. They explained how, when they made wards for furniture, they wanted to make the wards as broad as possible, so they encouraged, rather than forced, whatever they stood for. Our kitchen table was a good example, and why we had our conversation there. The suns helped us understand each other, and the masks torn in half encouraged us to tell the truth. I tested it out, just for fun, and trie
d telling my parents a story of something that could have happened to me at school, but didn't really. I was able to get through the story, but I could tell I wasn't convincing my parents, and I kept stumbling over words.
"So can you make wards to, say, force people to tell the truth?" I asked.
Dad looked concerned at this. "It's possible, but that's wandering into the realm of evil. I've read about wardcarvers that used their ability for impure intentions, and they quickly become corrupt."
"But what if you were trying to get a confession out of a criminal? Wouldn't that be a good intention?"
"You'd think so, but you're still taking away someone's free will, and taking away someone's ability to choose is never a good idea."
Mom interrupted Dad and started rambling about how wardcarving was a very sensitive art, and how there were lots of rules to follow. I waited patiently for her to finish, but let my attention wander halfway through. I think she finally understood and wrapped up hastily with, "Whatever happens, we only make our wards with the purest intent. We won't ever put you in a situation where you have to worry about us or what we're doing." She gave me a hug and kissed me on my forehead. "Do you feel better?" I nodded. "Good. Now, go do yoga or go on a run or do what you need to in order to get your head cleared. And remember, we're always going to be here for you."
I nodded again and went upstairs to my room to change. Jogging wasn't my first choice, but I had too much energy to sit and draw or do any sort of meditation. I left and ran wherever I felt like going, not caring if I had been in a certain neighborhood before or not. I was out jogging for a full hour before coming back home, and by the time I got back Dad had already gone to my school and picked up the homework I had missed that day. It felt odd, trying to fall back into a normal routine knowing what I now knew, but that, to me, was what courage was - moving forward and doing what you needed to do, despite how difficult or terrifying it may seem.
Since I was supposed to be sick I had to say no to going out with my friends (they thought I was faking it just because I wanted to skip school, but lying to them about being sick was easier than trying to come up with a lie that explained why I would have wanted to stay home), not that I wanted to go out with them anyway. I wanted to watch what happened in the graveyard again that night, and again without my necklace on. I kept it close to me, just in case, but I was anxious to see what happened with no spells to interfere with my view.
Now everything had the possibility of being magic. I thought I saw a tree branch move, and I imagined that it was the spirit of the tree stretching. There were fireflies, but they could have been fairies for all I knew. It was a full moon, and the large, scruffy-looking dog that trotted through was probably a werewolf. I fell asleep at my window sill again, but I couldn't have told you when. There was no difference between what I was seeing and what I dreamt about.
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