He let her walk around the room and hold the different items. Feeling the weight of a sorceress’s cloak was far better than reading about one. They donned some of the items and played out mock battles on the island during many of Kimberly’s visits. So many island trips filtered through her mind all at once, random items appearing in her hands as they reenacted her grandfather’s tales.
Memories mixed like paint in her head and she fought to regain just that very first visit. In the middle of the room, underneath a single skylight, was a dull gray sword sunk deep into a piece of marble.
“Grandfather, what story is that from?” Kimberly approached the sword and reached out a hand to grab it by the handle.
Her grandfather caught her gently by the wrist, turning her back around to face him.
“You are never to touch that one, my dear one. It is dangerous.” He had a serious look on his face.
“Which story is it from?” She turned to try and look at it again. The pull was undeniable.
“Perhaps one day I’ll tell you all about it.”
The sword had to be Willow. Her current mind raced at the possibilities. Locked in a memory, she reached up with a child’s arms to her grandfather. He picked her up and hugged her close, his whiskers tickling.
“Do you know why these things are important little one?”
“Because they’re awesome!” Young Kimberly declared.
Grandfather laughed, a booming sound that brought great joy to the little girl. “Yes, they are awesome. There is a much bigger reason than that.” He ran his fingers along a spear hanging from the wall.
“The reason these things are important, the real reason, is that this is a world without magic of its own. These items all act as a gateway for our imaginations, a portal that leads us to a world where magic is real. This world is so starved for magic that it eats up my stories like a water dragon eats up fishing boats. It has made me wealthy beyond my own imagination and given me opportunities I have never expected. Even here, these items have a magic all their own. And what is the number one rule of magic?”
“Intent.” She knew these rules by heart. Magic was never good or evil on its own, it always needed the push of the spell caster.
“That’s correct. Like a good wizard, we never want powerful magic in the wrong hands.” Grandfather started to say something else, but his face distorted and popped like a strange bubble. Kimberly blinked twice in astonishment, realizing that she was now awake.
The train was slowing, and Kimberly rubbed her eyes, staring at the ceiling of her private compartment. She would be allowed to disembark first, and then the tourists and travelers who rode the train would be next. Sitting up, she straightened out the skirt of her school uniform and made sure her belongings were together.
The train stopped and the suits promptly walked her straight to a waiting car. Feeling slightly sick to her stomach, she climbed in the back and faced forward. Whatever her father had planned, she would soon find out.
* * *
Nathan Stone stood in his office, looking out his window at the city below. Standing up on the 112th floor gave Nathan an unparalleled view of the city beneath him, an empire he liked to consider his own. He sometimes watched the tiny little people below, insignificant specks to his existence, and imagined crushing them between his forefingers. This was the view he liked most in the world, the one he looked at right before a hostile takeover of someone else’s company. It helped to remind him of his place in the world.
Not today. Something far bigger than business had been on his mind this day, something far bigger than anything he could think of. Still sitting on his desk was the note. Written on yellow paper and folded neatly in the middle, his secretary delivered it to his desk during a 6 a.m. conference call with a powerful West Russian corporation.
He immediately cancelled all of his appointments for the day. Standing here, looking out his window, he was still uncertain how the news made him feel. He had summoned his daughter to return home right away. She was a loose end, a mistake he often regretted. During this time, she needed to be under his personal watch.
He judged his own reflection in the shaded glass. Much like an anorexic may see a fat person staring back, Nathan could only see his own weaknesses. His hair was immaculate, his suit worth thousands of dollars. Yet for years, he had been under a shadow, a shadow that may have finally dissipated, revealing to him the light of day.
He allowed himself a rare smile. Today, there was no weakness; only a grim sense of satisfaction. His skills were unparalleled; he was mighty. Now nobody in the world stood taller than he.
He turned away from the reflection in the glass, hardly noticing that his reflection’s movement was slightly delayed.
He tapped the screen on his desk, his first real course of action in over ten hours. His secretary appeared on the screen, at the ready.
“I think it’s time to go home.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone.” Always loyal and unquestioning, his wife vanished from the monitor and his office door opened. Approaching his desk, she packed up his things, careful to put everything exactly where it needed to go. He grinned at his ever-faithful bride as she held out his case.
“Everything handled?”
“It is,” she answered. “The boys were told to come straight home from school. Kimberly was pulled from the academy this morning and should already be home.”
“Anybody talk to them?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
“Who knows?”
“So far, only immediate family. The press will find out eventually, but for now, it’s under wraps.”
“Good.” Together they walked to the elevator and his wife pushed the button for the lobby. The doors shut, leaving the office empty.
In Nathan’s office, a barely tangible shadow crossed the room and stood where Nathan had, staring out into the city. It opened something resembling a mouth and shook. If anybody could have heard it, they would have recognized laughter.
* * *
Kimberly exited the black sedan and grabbed her suitcase. She watched the car pull away, down the long drive, the gate closing behind it. From the street, all that would be visible would be a ten-foot-high privacy fence and a large stone panel with the family name. People, in search of her grandfather, often came to the house thinking that he lived here.
Walking through the house she had grown up in, she was immediately struck by its sterility. It was full of expensive art, a lot of which Kimberly was forbidden to touch. She walked to her room, looking out a window on her way. Her dipstick older brothers were out back, throwing a football back and forth.
If anyone had ever asked her if her father believed in a god, she would have answered yes. Football was the closest thing to a real religion in the Stone household. Nathan often went to his private place of worship, a beautifully decorated home theater which cut its viewer off from the outside world completely. At one point, when she had still lived at home, she knew the game schedule by heart. Those were the best times to quietly disappear to her room and fall into a good book, usually her grandfather’s.
She opened the door to her bedroom. It was still untouched from her last visit. She was quick to unpack her suitcase and even quicker to hide away her grandfather’s novel. She was hanging some shirts in the closet when she was struck from behind. Gasping, she turned to see her brother, Billy, in the doorway, grinning. His football rolled on the floor behind her.
“Look who’s back.” He took three steps into the room and picked up the ball. “You here to make more trouble for Dad?”
“No. Father said I had to come back.”
“Sure.” Billy tossed his ball up once and caught it. He jerked his arms forward like he was going to throw it at her face and Kimberly flinched. Knowing better than to do something that might leave a mark, Billy was content to know his little sister was still scared of him.
“It’s the worm.” Zane, Billy’s identical twin, was in her door
way now. If Billy was the muscle, then Zane was the brain. His words often stung more than Billy’s kicks or slaps. His favorite nickname for Kimberly was born of her love to read, and also the wriggling motion she made when pushed down hard and punched in a kidney.
“Leave my room.”
“Make us.” Billy pushed her down on the bed and Zane hit the light switch. They closed the door on their way out, annoying her even further. Kimberly stood up and rolled her eyes dramatically. Her brothers had only come to make their presence known, luckily. They treated her the way that only their hero, her father, could approve of.
It was getting dark, and Kimberly snuck to the kitchen to get a snack. A large crystal fruit bowl was kept continuously stocked by the best produce science could make. Picking out a large red apple, she took a bite, relishing the crunching sound. Knowing her father was likely to be home soon, it would bode well for him to see her hard at work on her studies. Stopping only for a glass of water, she set her things up and dove into it.
It wasn’t long before her mind wandered. She was riding a horse with wings over the ocean, using a magic staff to fire bolts of lightning into a kraken. She was jumping off of thousand-story buildings, only to unfurl her arms at the last moment and fly away. She was—
The crunching of gravel outside told her that her father had arrived, snapping her free of her reverie. She looked out the window to see her parents get out of the car, a new expensive one she hadn’t seen before. She looked at her desk and saw that she had scrawled a few doodles in the margins. She moved quickly, burying the offending papers deep in her bag and pulling out a half-finished geography assignment.
Kimberly kept her face down in her books as the front door opened. She felt certain that gallons of sweat were pouring down her body, knowing that her father would soon walk by.
Her mother passed the room and looked in.
“Hi, Kim.” Her mom kept walking. It was the first time they had seen each other in months, and it was likely the only conversation they would have. Strange as it was to witness, her mom had little time for anybody who wasn’t her father.
Not too far behind, the steady clicking of heels was soon amplified by the beating of her terrified heart.
Nathan stopped in the hallway, turning his head to look at her. It was more than just a glance; it was a full appraisal. Their eyes met, identical sets of gray eyes flecked with silver.
He walked over to where she sat and looked down at what she was doing. She was halfway through scrawling a sentence about New China.
She could feel it in the way he stood, see it etched on his hard features. She was a complete mystery to him. The feeling was somewhat mutual; she tried hard not to flinch away.
Not sure what to do, she resumed her studies, trying to appear busy. Nathan reached down and opened up her school bag, pulling out her International Finance book.
He flipped through its pages and grunted in soft satisfaction. Kimberly was always thorough. She had highlighted text and made extra notes in the margins. Even so, she knew he could sense her defiance.
He set her book on the table and started to leave. At the door, he stopped. Kimberly’s heart skipped a beat, seeing the familiar set in his shoulders.
“Where is your coaster?” He turned back around, a mixture of rage and satisfaction on his face.
Kimberly looked over at the glass of water. Moisture from the glass had accumulated on the outside, beading and running down to the fine rare wood that Kimberly’s desk was made of.
To the outside world, Nathan was often seen as cool and collected. Kimberly knew better. He kept an animal caged up inside, an animal that loved to come out and play.
Moving quickly, he grabbed the glass from her desk, spilling water along her blouse. He snarled in her face and threw the glass into a corner where it broke. He grabbed her arm, hard, and lifted her small frame from its seat. She watched his features twist into a smile as her own twisted into a grimace.
Twisting her around, her arm up behind her back, he pushed her face down to within an inch of the watery stain.
“Is this how you thank me? I send you to a good school, I pay my hard-earned money to keep you in clothes, and you can’t even put out a coaster?” He spun her back around to face him. “Where is your sense of pride, Kimberly, where?” He jabbed her near her stomach, pushing her away from him. Her arms pinwheeled around wildly, trying to grab a piece of her own skirt to wipe up the offending stain. He pushed her again, hard, and opened up one of the drawers. He pulled out some oil and a stack of rags.
“Pride in ownership. I want this whole desk polished.” Her father’s features relaxed as he recomposed himself, locking the animal back in its cage.
Kimberly hated crying in front of her father. She hated her father in general. Still, tears had begun running freely down both sides of her face. She grabbed the rags and began polishing, thinking of Cinderella the whole time and wishing that her grandfather had won the custody battle when she was younger.
It took her a bit, but the polishing was completed. The spot under her ribs where her father had jabbed her was sore, and she knew there was likely to be a bruise by morning. When she was done polishing, the broken glass was next to go. Frustrated, she started to sit down when Billy appeared in the door, his smirk matching the spikes in his blond hair.
“Dad wants us.” He disappeared and Kimberly snorted. He was Dad to her brothers, but she had to call him Father, or sir. Standing, she navigated her way through the large house, going instinctively to her father’s office.
She stood in the hallway, staring at the heavy wooden door. For whatever reason, her father had flown in an expert on medieval architecture to create the perfect room for a corporate giant. It reminded her more of a door to a dragon’s lair.
Pushing the door open with both hands, she saw her father sitting behind his desk. Her mother stood just behind him, a hand on his shoulder. The twins waited, standing just off to the side.
“I have a family announcement.” Nathan took a sip from a tumbler of whiskey and set it down on his desk. Kimberly noted in the back of her mind that he wasn’t using a coaster.
“My father is dead.”
Nathan was watching Kimberly for a reaction and he wasn’t disappointed. Her chin trembled as she fought to control herself and he could see the questions she desperately wanted to ask.
“Due to his celebrity,” he sounded the word out slowly, “as a family, we need to be very aware of anything we say to the media.” He looked specifically at Kimberly. “Or what we don’t say. Tomorrow morning we leave to meet with his lawyer and settle his estate.”
He was done. Kimberly felt that cold place in her heart explode outward suddenly, ripping holes through her body until she finally melted into sobs and ran from the room, her head in her hands. She felt her father’s eyes on her, felt the joy behind the look.
Kimberly shut the door to her room, flipping the lock. Pulling her bottom dresser drawer out, she pulled out the forbidden copy of Elurra’s Journey and opened it to the back page. Her grandfather’s smiling face was there, waiting for her. Crying uncontrollably, she clutched the book to her heart. In the whole universe, her grandfather had provided the one spot of light for her to stand under. Without Hal Stone, Kimberly had fallen into darkness.
“Grandfather, I need you.” Her tears soaked the pages of the book.
Ip and Grandfather’s Estate
The Stone family took a plane. Nathan got them all seats in first class and Kimberly became the odd one out, sitting toward the back of the section. This suited her just fine, because it meant she was away from her callous father. Staring at the back of his head, she sent him thoughts of anger in the hopes he would drop dead of an aneurism.
Occasionally, she would see her mom turn to say something. Watching the woman who used to be the smiling girl in old photographs, Kimberly wondered what had changed. When she was little, her mom used to call her the names other moms called their children.
&n
bsp; Then something changed. It was like watching a plant wither away over the months. A divide had somehow formed between the two of them, a rift she was certain her father had placed.
Her brothers were just colossal wastes of space. She watched them chatter at each other, two rich, preppy boys who would undoubtedly drink too much while barely making the grade in college. In her father’s eyes, they could do no wrong.
And here she sat, the smallest girl in the universe, in the tenth row, wishing they would all die. Being honest with herself, she realized she was in the anger stage of the grieving process.
The man sitting next to her was perusing his laptop, his fingers clicking away at the keys. Judging by the suit he wore, she could only assume he was reading stock news or something else business related.
Kimberly sniffled and rubbed her eyes. They were red and irritated from crying.
During the flight, she read all of the magazines in the little pocket in front of her. Finding a crusty old pen, she doodled in the margins. Watching her family, she was frustrated by their apparent comfort during the five-hour flight.
The man next to her let out a sigh, the first noise she had heard from him the whole flight. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked at Kimberly.
“Sorry, I just read some bad news.” The man wiped the beginning of a tear from his eye. He ordered a drink from the attendant and sat back in his seat, then looked up at the ceiling with a strange expression on his face. When his drink arrived, he tucked his computer away. Kimberly turned away from him, wondering what his issue was.
“You ever read this?” She turned back and saw that he now held up an old battered copy of The Knights of Everbrave. Her heart skipped a beat. It was the first book that Grandfather had dedicated to her. She just nodded her head, unsure what to say. Looking forward, she half expected her father to turn around in his seat and spew fire around the cabin in reaction to her grandfather’s book.
“My father gave me this book when I left for college. I didn’t read it until my junior year.” The man opened the cover and flipped to page in the middle. “I was failing out. I left town for the weekend to think over my options and brought it with me on a whim. One night, I was getting ready to hit a bar in a little ski town, but I saw this book sitting there in my stuff. I had fifteen minutes till I needed to leave, and the room didn’t have cable. I sat down on my bed and read.”