Echo, p.12
Echo, page 12
"They wanted us to look into the future and tell them when and where Jivar will be returning to Earth." Her eyes were confronting, cruel.
"Can you do that?"
She shook her head. "We Seers can only see what the spirits want us to see."
"Oh." My face contorted.
"Do you have any more questions for me, Echo?" she asked.
My gaze flitted between the three. Of course, I had more questions, but I was terrified of the answers. If Cona knew Vanna and Kirby, did Mother too? What other secrets were they keeping from me?
"No." I decided I was better off not knowing, but fate wouldn’t let me off the hook so easily. As soon as I turned around to leave the room, the headache returned, and my vision continued.
"You call this an eagle?" Zaros asked. "Let me show you a real one." Circling his hands, he created a blaze in the form of an eagle, darting right towards me.
"Watch out." Kirby hurled his body in front of mine, cutting through Zaros’s fire with his light sword.
"Thank you," I whispered in a weak voice.
"No time for this, Lillian," he said. "Take Cona and get out of here."
"I’m not leaving you behind," I said, clutching at his shirt. "I dragged you into this. There’s no way I’m letting you die to save me."
***
The headache subsided, though that last strike was the most intense. It hurt so much that I fell to my knees.
Kirby and Vanna helped me stand.
"Mother," I uttered, smacking my chest. "Mother fought Zaros."
Kirby’s face grew ashen, and Vanna’s mouth opened. It turned out I wasn’t seeing visions of the future. It was the past that revealed itself to me.
"Finally," Cona broke in. "It’s about time you find out the truth."
That day, I learned about my mother, Lillian Blackwood, a woman I never really knew. Lillian had no magic or special powers. When she learned she was pregnant with the chosen witch, she feared hurting her family. She tried to get rid of the child—of me—but fate persisted.
After giving birth, Lillian’s heart changed. She became willing to do anything to protect me from Jivar. The Magic Board refused to help her, so she turned to her best friend, the Seer.
"She asked me to find something for her, the Amulet of Divinity," Cona said. "At first, she used it to hide you from Jivar, to keep you safe. Then she thought she could do more. All she wanted was to give you a normal life, to watch you grow healthy and happy, so she decided to fight in your place."
"That’s why she summoned us," Vanna added. "We weren’t sent here to be your guides, Echo. Our quest was to help your mother fight Jivar. Back then, we had our full powers, and for years, we fought by Lillian’s side, Cona too. We saved a lot of lives."
"But in the end, we failed her." Kirby’s voice wailed with grief.
Shock, anger, guilt, shame—a million different emotions flooded me. God, how I feared the answer to my following question. "What do you mean by failed her?"
"It was my fault." Kirby’s tears poured. "I got injured. Zaros almost killed me."
I shuffled to the back and reached for a chair. I thought about the last time I saw Mother. I wish you died, and Dad was alive. How could I have said those things to her?
Ever since I was little, I believed my mother hated me. That thought burned inside me like a harsh chemical, aggravating my soul and poisoning me with self-loathe. After all those years, it turned out my mother loved me. So much so that it scared her. So much so that she couldn’t get close; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to lose me.
***
"How do you feel?" Cona waved her hand to check if I was conscious. I hadn’t said a word for more than ten minutes. I just stared at the floor, my mind rumbling with regrets.
"I’m fine."
"Your face is yellow, dear. Talk to me."
I lifted my eyes to see her. Her eyes were soft and empathetic, though she hated to show it.
"She died for me, Cona. I’m not worth her life."
"Nonsense," she said forcefully. "A mother would do anything for her child, but is it worth it? That’s for you to decide by not letting her death be in vain."
Cona glanced at Kirby and Vanna, who sat on the couch outside. Kirby was in bad shape, almost as bad as me.
"I owe you an apology, Echo," she said. "I should’ve been here for you. After what happened to Lillian, I left the city and started a new life. But Kirby and Vanna, those two have hearts of gold. They watched over you all these years."
I took a deep, painful breath and glanced at Cona’s wheelchair. "Your legs. Was it Zaros?"
"A Kataru... But don’t worry about me." She flexed her arm to show me her biceps. "I’m a fighter."
I gave her a weak smile.
When I was young and fragile, I created a story about my Mother and her friend abandoning me. That story gave me certainty when I didn’t know enough, validation when my feelings were unaccepted. It justified the hatred I held for the two and placed me in the role of the victim. Now that I was older and stronger, I wished I could go back to that false certainty, to a world where I could live guilt-free and blame my mother for my brokenness.
Chapter 12: The Oasis
The apartment became crowded. Cona slept in Vanna’s bed, Vanna on the floor. Kirby and the pets took the living room couch, and Doyle stayed in Kirby’s room. For two weeks, he had been our accidental hostage. I tied his ankles to a heavy ball and chain and let him move freely around the apartment. It would’ve been better to keep him in his confinement, but Kirby’s room had no bathroom.
As Doyle slowly regained his health, worries crept into my friends’ hearts. "I don’t trust him. He’s the one who took me to the castle." Ebba often complained. "He can be eavesdropping,” said Vanna, but from what I saw, Doyle did nothing but read.
One afternoon, Cona and I sat in the living room to talk about my powers. I showed her a small board on which I had placed colored, sticky notes. "These are all the noble spells I used before, categorized by color," I cheered. "Green is Earth Magic. Yellow, blue, red are air, water, and fire, all of which I had used to attack Katarus. Vision is in orange. Occasionally, I’d get glimpses at the future or the past, so I might be a Seer too."
"So what’s the problem?" Cona stared at me as if I was an alien.
"The problem is that I shouldn’t be able to use any of this." I pouted. "A noble witch should have one specialty and a grimoire that doesn’t belong to the dark arts. All I want is to find my element."
"And did the sticky notes help?" she asked with apparent sarcasm.
"Not really." I lowered my head. "What’s wrong with me, Cona?"
"Does something have to be wrong with you, Echo?" She sounded like a mom. "So you can use different types of magic. I call this an advantage."
"I might be using different elements, but I’m not mastering any of them. My spells lose impact, sometimes within seconds. Plus, without a normal grimoire, I can’t devise new spells. How am I going to fight Jivar?"
"Hmm." Cona’s eyes drifted to the corner. "Let’s see what the spirits have to say about you. Burn some sage and bring me my Ouija board."
***
The incense burned. I turned off the lights and closed the curtains while Cona set her board on the table. "Oh spirit, come forth. Let us receive your guidance," she chanted.
The curtain fluttered when a whiff of air came through the window. Oscar, who was napping on the carpet, woke up and started to look around. Wondering if he could see the spirits, I sat down and held Cona’s hands over the board.
"Spirit, are you there?" Cona asked. "Help me find Echo’s element."
We waited, then waited a bit more. Before the silence became too uncomfortable, the planchette moved. It glided across the board without anyone touching it, and it started to spell a word for us: O, A, S...
"Oasis?" I asked in confusion. "That’s not an element."
"But it’s a hint." Cona shrugged, teasing me into a new adventure.
***
"The Northern Oasis?" Ebba was unrolling her sleeping bag in my room when I told her about the hint. "You mean the oasis in the North?"
"That’s the one." I got in my bed and covered myself up with a blanket. "We need to go there to find my magic element. So, rooaad triiip." I threw my hands up.
"Uh..." Ebba seemed to be nervous.
"What’s wrong?" I asked.
"N-nothing." She huddled under the covers.
"Come on, Ebba. Spill it." I drew a serious look on my face.
"I j-just, um,"she stuttered. "I get s-sick when driving for long hours."
"You get car sickness?" That sounded odd."You lived on a boat?"
She gave me a flustered look but didn’t try to explain.
"Don’t worry," I said. "Grandpa has a good anti-nauseant."
"P-please, you don’t have to." She waved. "I can s-s-stay here with your sister and the-the baby."
"Actually, I was thinking of inviting Tara. She’s been overwhelmed with the baby and the postpartum hormones. She could use a trip."
"Is this s-safe?" she asked.
"Why not?" I turned in bed and stared at the ceiling. "It’s not like we’re taking Doyle with us."
***
"Doyle is going with you," Kirby said. It was five in the morning when Ebba and I went to pick him up, but, to our surprise, he was still in his pajamas. "And I’m staying."
"Doyle can’t come," I said. "Tara is coming."
"Vanna said he has to go," Kirby argued. "There’s no one to watch him, and we’ll be busy in the store." He yawned. "Why is Tara going?"
"I invited her. She got all hyped up, and she’s waiting in the car as we speak."
"So now it’s you, Ebba, Tara, and Doyle?" He chuckled. "Best of luck."
"M-maybe I should s-stay," Ebba threw that in.
"Good grief, Ebba," I yelled. "You’re coming."
I marched into Kirby’s room. Doyle was by the closet, buttoning his shirt. My friends gave me a hard time buying him new clothes, but I couldn’t bear the smell of the old ones. It had been weeks and the stink of the potion didn’t go anywhere.
"I guess Kirby told you we are going out of town," I said. "Please, understand that my sister will be joining us, so you need to behave."
"Behave?" He shot me a hateful look. "I’m not a dog."
"That’s not what I meant," I said.
"Then what did you mean?"
"I meant." I paused to rethink my words. "You’ve been stuck in this apartment for a long time, and you deserve some fresh air. But if you want to come with us to the Oasis, you have to promise not to hurt anyone."
"Such a generous offer coming from the person who has me shackled." His dimples showed when he smirked. "But you have my word."
"Pleasure doing business with you." I extended my hand to shake his, but he let it hang, so I cleared my throat and pulled away awkwardly. "One more thing. My sister, Tara, doesn’t know I’m a witch. So can you keep the magic talks between us?"
"All right." He nodded.
"Also, full disclaimer, we’ll be in the middle of a desert. If you run away, I can’t technically stop you, but you might end up eaten by a bear or lion."
He chuckled. "Thank you for the warning."
"You’re welcome." I cheered. There were no bears or lions in Oracles Island, but how would he have known? He came from another world, didn’t he?
***
"This is my sister Tara."
From the backseat, Tara extended her hand to greet Doyle, who sat next to me. "Nice to meet you, Doyle."
He reciprocated politely. When he looked away, Tara mouthed the word, "Handsome." I smacked her hand, so she fell back in her seat, laughing.
"I’m so excited to see the oasis," Tara told Ebba, who sat next to her. "A few years ago, pharma companies used to buy their herbs and oils to make cosmetics. Their lotion gave me the softest skin."
"Was it the one in the pink bottle?" I asked as I started the car. "I used to borrow it from you all the time."
"Yeah, it’s the one," Tara replied. "I was devastated when they stopped making it."
"W-why did they stop?" Ebba asked.
"I read there was an earthquake that did something to the land." Tara sounded like she was telling a ghost story on Halloween. "Ever since it happened, plants refuse to grow in the oasis. They don’t have enough to sell."
"An earthquake?" An alarm went off in my head.
"Yeah, it was tragic. People died. The earth just opened up and swallowed them."
I glanced at Doyle, who listened to the conversation quietly. Was that earthquake a portal? Only he would know, after all, he worked for Jivar.
***
The oasis stretched to the size of a small town. Chains of palm trees adorned the golden desert; their fronds swayed to the breeze of the balmy winter day. Slanted sun rays fell on the spring water, giving it a mesmerizing sparkle. The air had a sweet, dusty scent that reminded me of playing in the park when I was a child. I could watch the beautiful view for hours, but I was on a mission. I had to find my magic element, though I wasn’t sure where to look.
As soon as we arrived, Tara dragged us to the oasis market, a house-sized, wooden stand where the farmers sold their produce. Herbs of all shapes and colors were kept in muslin bags and lined for display, but most of them were old and stale.
"What a disappointment." Tara sighed. "I was hoping to find something fresh or green."
"At this time of year?" a stranger broke in. He was a tall man with brown skin and a wide smile, and he wore a black windbreaker and khaki pants. "Only one farmer sells fresh herbs these days."
"Who’s that?" I asked.
"Me." He pointed at the stand behind him. The man was a seller, a charming one indeed. "Come, take a look."
Tara and I started to browse through his collection. I found some dried-up, root chips in the color of olive. Once I brought them close to my nose, I puckered my face at the foul odor. "Is this vandal root?"
"You really know your stuff, don’t you?" He sounded impressed. "These ones here were used for black magic back in the old days."
"I’ll take some then." I grinned.
"Didn’t you hear what the man said?" Tara asked. "This plant is evil. You shouldn’t be buying it."
"Relax, Tara, there’s no such thing as black magic." I lied with confidence before turning back to the seller. "Hey, this is our first time here, can you suggest places to visit? Maybe something spooky to scare my sister?"
"Have you heard of the old tomb?" he asked as he handed me a bag with my herbs. "There’s a woman who lives there. She has some—" He stopped.
Following his gaze, my eyes stopped at Ebba, who was standing at the back, minding her business. He stared at her, eyes turning into hearts like he fell under a spell. He didn’t even notice when I extended my hand with his payment.
"Don’t you want your money?" I waved at him with the cash in my hand.
"Oh." He took it from me while continuing to ogle my friend.
"About the woman in the tomb. What’s her name again?" I asked.
"Maradis."
"Can you tell me more about her?"
"Feel the room, Stiff Head," Tara whispered in my ear. "The guy is smitten."
"Excuse me, ladies." The seller said before he grabbed a dried flower in his hand and swaggered towards Ebba. Tara, the big romance enthusiast, waited in anticipation, unlike I, who felt protective over my friend. Doyle just watched unbothered. He neither cared about Ebba nor the guy.
"This is for you." Standing before Ebba, the man’s smirk turned into a nervous grin.
"Stay away from me," Ebba cried out, grabbing the attention of strangers in the market. Her body stiffened and her breath grew ragged in a full-blown panic attack, a reaction that seemed exaggerated to the point that even Doyle was stunned. Do they know each other? That was the only rational reason for Ebba’s freak out, but the man’s expression showed otherwise. He was as shocked as everyone.
***
On a picnic blanket, we unboxed the delicious lunch Tara had prepared. There were chicken sandwiches, cheese, pickles, and of course, cinnamon cookies with chocolate chips—my favorite. Trying not to invade Ebba’s privacy, we never mentioned what happened in the market, but I tried to cheer her up by starting a conversation she’d enjoy. "Let’s talk about our favorite fish plates."
The three gave me confused looks.
"I’ll start," I said with excitement. "My favorite fish is tuna. I love tuna salad with lots of veggies and olive oil. What about you, Doyle? How do you like your fish?"
"Cooked."
"Very helpful." I cleared my throat. "Tara?"
"Grilled salmon with lemon butter sauce." Tara pouted. She was still disappointed because she didn’t find any ‘special’ herbs in the market.
"Yum yum," I cheered. "What about you, Ebba?"
"I like all fish," Ebba said. She stood up and walked towards the nearest palm tree. Squatting down, she grabbed a flower, which she handed to Tara. "I-I think you c-can use it on your skin."
"Wow. It’s pretty." Tara viewed it up close. "Do you think it’ll help with Lillian’s diaper rash?"
"Y-you can t-try," Ebba said.
"Lemme see." I took the flower from Tara. It was white and had a shiny, golden stigma that seemed almost surreal. Only when I inhaled its sweet fragrance did I recognize it. I had seen it before in the garden outside Jivar’s castle. I turned to Doyle. He was also surprised to see it.
"So who’s going to visit the old tomb with me?" I asked.
"A tomb?" Tara said in an ‘are you kidding me?’ tone. "As in dead people and ghosts? Count me out."
"What about you, Ebba?"
"Eh, um. If Tara is s-staying, I’ll stay," she said.
"Then it’s just us," I told Doyle. That was my plan in the first place. A little after noon, he and I abandoned the group and headed on our way. With our hands dug in our pockets, and a big distance between us, we probably looked like two strangers strolling along the spring, but no one cared about how we looked. There was no sign of anyone around us—just the beautiful spring and the sandy path.
