Echo, p.8
Echo, page 8
When Kirby and Vanna agreed to my plan, they had one condition: for me to be invisible. The Invisibility Spell belonged to Air magic; I could only use it for a few minutes. But I came across a potion that did the same function for a longer time. ‘The Elixir of Phantoms,’ it was called. It was the better choice, but not the safer one. Overdosing on the elixir put my body at the risk of dematerializing. I could become incorporeal, like a ghost with no physical body.
It took a few seconds for the elixir to work. Once my shadows faded away, I wandered around the barren land, surrounded by yellowish shrubs and a few small trees.
It must have been about ten minutes before I saw a Kataru cutting some leaves with its claws and carrying them between its teeth. I followed it to a small den between fractured rocks. There, the youngsters awaited. There were four of them, each one about a puppy’s size. Their eyes were still closed, so the mother had to feed them the leaves.
I had never imagined Katarus as anything more than enemies, beasts I had to slay. Maybe I didn’t want to see them in any other way; otherwise, I would’ve questioned many of my choices.
I left the den and continued to walk through the valley until I saw the shape of a building on the horizon—a medieval castle with high walls, round towers, and a moat surrounding it. It was out of place. I figured magic was involved.
To pass over the moat, I crossed a stone bridge that led to a gate with no guards. The sound of cascading water caught my attention. Beyond the gate was a fountain, surrounded by white flowers. Their golden stigmas shimmered like tiny stars, and they exhaled an ethereal fragrance, like lilies.
Beautiful. In awe, I wondered why a man with no soul would plant such marvelous flowers in his garden.
As I searched for an entrance to the castle, I saw a group of Katarus walking through an arched door on the side of the building. I found myself following them into a vast hall where fine tapestries hung on the stone walls. Each one came from a different era—ancient Egyptian, Greek, Medieval, and Persian. Ribbed columns protruded out of the stone floor with grandeur. But other than the Katarus, there were no signs of life whatsoever.
In the corner stood the stairs to the second floor. I didn’t dare climb them. Standing at the bottom, my chest hitched. I sensed the room upstairs was devoid of life force. I just knew whoever lived there had a hole instead of a heart.
I motioned myself along a wide corridor with large windows arranged to let the sunlight in. There were four closed doors and one open. Peeking inside, I saw a medieval room with a canopy bed and antique decor. The blue-eyed swordsman, the one I fought in Herotreat Coast, rested on a chair with his feet elevated on a small table and his sword leaning against his seat. In his hands, he had an old book on which his eyes were fixed. His gaze was sharp, focused, as if he lost himself in the words.
"No lemon balms?" a woman in the adjacent room yelled. "I want lemon balms. Lemon balms for my potion."
The swordsman chuckled, but when he heard glass breaking, he grabbed his sword and ran outside. I followed him to the corridor where he saw a young girl in a weary garment.
"Princess Viessa screamed at me again," she said, shivering in fear. "I swear there are no lemon balms in the kitchen."
"It’s all right." The swordsman gave her a gentle smile and a pat on the head. "I’ll get Viessa what she wants. You stay out of her way."
"Thank you, Mr. Doyle." The girl bowed her head.
His name is Doyle, I realized. It scared me how much I couldn’t read him. Despite the intimidating presence he had on the battlefield, he now acted like a gentleman. He was even kind to that poor girl.
***
A young man carried a tray of food to the second floor, dressed in drab too big for his scrawny figure. Seemingly scared of dropping it, he took slow, cautious steps up the stairs.
If he can do it, so can I. I tagged after him.
We arrived at a chamber with a golden throne settled at the center. Its blue cushions matched the colors of the curtains dancing at the windows. The arched ceiling seemed to envelop me, not in an embrace, but a smother.
On a wooden dining table, the servant placed the plates. He licked his lips when the smell of roasted meat spread in the air. I wondered how he ever got to that place. Did the Katarus bring him here? Was he too taken from his family? He must be terrified. But he didn't look scared. His eyes never left the food.
I worried about the time. How much longer do I have before the potion wears off? It had been forty-five minutes already, and I didn’t know where Ebba was.
The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted my thoughts.
"Lord Jivar," the servant said, dropping the empty tray and bringing his forehead to the ground. My heart skipped a beat.
As the tale was told, I had always imagined Jivar as a monster, but tales can be misleading. Walking into the room in his royal tunic, Jivar was more of a prince than a beast. He had the gravitas of a sly politician, the charm of a two-hundred-year-old vampire in a paranormal romance.
He sat at the table and took one bite of the food that seemed tasteless to him. He then gestured for the servant to join. The poor man reluctantly sat down, but relish quickly replaced his timidity, and he stabbed at the dishes, swallowing the meat and scarfing down the bread. He didn’t stop until he had wiped the plates clean.
"Satisfied?" Jivar asked, unamused.
"Yes, my lord." The servant rubbed his belly.
"I’m glad," Jivar said, but he didn’t seem that way.
With an apathetic grin, he leaned forward. He put his palms around the servant’s cheeks and pulled his face closer. I cringed.
A beam of light emerged out of the servant’s mouth. Jivar drew it in, filling up his lungs like a smoker indulging his first cigarette of the day. The servant grew ashen. Although he didn’t scream, pain showed in his eyes. His throat rattled with unsettling noises, and his body grew limp.
My hands flew to my mouth when I realized what was happening. No, no, This can’t be it. I went from disbelief to shock. I had learned that Jivar fed on souls, but I never wanted to witness it.
An ecstatic simper appeared on Jivar’s face as he sucked more of the light. Once the glow faded, all signs of pleasure disappeared.
Jivar let go of the servant, who stood up and rambled around the room like a ghost with no destination. No longer did I sense his fragility, his hunger for food, or even his fear.
Oh my God. I clutched my throat. That young man must’ve been a precious son, brother, or friend to someone. How come Jivar didn’t care? How come he took away his soul? And what happens when the soul is gone? Are all the memories, thoughts, and feelings gone as well? Is he even human now? Or will he live forever like an empty shell?
A Kataru came into the room and dragged the servant outside. As they left, a woman in a red dress entered, her heels clacking on the marble floor. She had a wreath of flowers on her head and a golden necklace with a blue diamond on her chest.
An amulet? This must be Viessa.
"Why are you back?" Jivar asked.
"The ritual needs the heart to stop, but he shouldn’t die," Viessa said. "Spells are no good, so how can we do it?"
"A spell will not work, but a potion will."
"I like potions." She pressed her finger to her chin. "Make a potion to stop the heart."
"This is what I need you to do," he said.
"Make a potion, make a potion." She burst into singing and ambled away.
Weird!
Jivar rose from the dining chair and scuffled towards his throne, his arms tucked behind his back. Halfway across the room, he stopped and looked in my direction.
"I am aware of your presence." His words almost gave me a heart attack. "Your tricks are not fooling me, Lú."
I held in my breath, unable to exhale. What will I do now? If he can see me, I’m done. Why is he calling me Lú? This is not the time, Echo, Think of an escape, you idiot.
We stared at each other.
God. I wish time would stop.
And that did it. The dancing curtains stood still, and Jivar froze like a statue. My left hand tingled. The number sixty appeared on its back. It counted down... fifty-nine... fifty-eight... fifty-seven...
A timer?
It took me five seconds to realize a Time Freeze spell was in action. I ran out of the throne room, down the stairs, and through the entrance hall. Struck by fear, I forgot all about Ebba. I couldn’t stop running until I passed the stone bridge and found a few trees to hide among. By then, both the invisibility and the time freeze spell were gone.
***
In my backpack, I had an extra bottle of the invisibility potion. I considered if it was worth the risk. I came here to get Ebba. I can’t go home without her.
But if I go back, Jivar will kill me.
As I weighed my options, two Katarus came at me.
I attacked with an Energy Ball. One collapsed, but the other withstood my blow. It trumpeted, calling out in a loud voice akin to an elephant, and five more Katarus came charging.
This place has two suns, maybe I can use their energy somehow. I didn’t have a spell for that, so I found myself calling for unexpected help.
"Grimoire."
Ever since I received my grimoire, Vanna had locked it away in her drawer. Many times, I imagined holding it in my hands, letting its power absorb me. I never thought I’d actually do it...until I did. My book floated midair, its dark aura spreading and seeping into me. For months, I had longed for that moment.
Should I be using this? I overcame my hesitation when the Katarus surrounded me. The book opened to show an empty page. A grimoire was an inscription book for a witch to create new spells. "O scorching sun. I summon your essence into me," I chanted, and the words appeared on the page in cursive writing. "Obey."
A heatwave ran through my veins like an electric pulse. Opening my palms, I created a fiery orb that quickly grew into a searing blaze—a blaze too hungry for Katarus’ flesh.
When I fought my first Kataru, I resorted to Dark Magic out of fear, but in The Land of No Return, I chose to go dark. I closed my eyes and listened as the blaze ate the beasts alive. Their pain-filled groans faded into the crackles of the fire. The image of the mother Kataru came to my mind, but I dismissed it.
As the fire turned into ashes, I fell to my knees, panting. My skin swelled and expelled the odor of singed hair.
"Help." a voice cried. I whirled around to see a woman my age. She had dark, braided hair and tanned skin, and she wore brown overalls and a yellow shirt that needed a good wash. As I approached her, the smell of fish wafted into my nose.
"H-h-elp me," she uttered in a somewhat thick accent. Her grass-green eyes were full of fear.
"Who are you, and how did you get here?" I asked.
"I a-am E-Ebba. I’m from He-Herotreat Coast. Please, take me home."
Chapter 8: Hellos and Goodbyes
Standing at the restaurant entrance, I saw Joe squirming in his seat. He looked at his watch and took a sip of water. Although he could’ve been enjoying the view of the pool or the romantic music playing in the background, his mind seemed to be preoccupied.
When he saw me approaching, he jumped to his feet and pulled out the chair for me. "Wow. You look...wow."
"Wow right back at ya." I grinned, knowing I made the right call borrowing Tara’s red dress and wearing my hair down for a change.
We sat. Joe adjusted his tie. His gaze shifted to the burning candles on the table, which gave off a sweet, cranberry scent.
"Is something wrong?" I asked when he was quiet.
"Everything is fine," he said.
Reaching under the table, he pulled out a wrapped gift that he gave to me. "Happy Valentine’s Day."
"Oooh." With child-like excitement, I unwrapped the layers of glittery paper. Joe’s face beamed with joy as he watched me. When I finally saw his gift, I burst into laughter. "Oh my God. This is so cute," I said, holding a bobblehead doll that looked like me—the one I had kept in my car ever since.
"I’m glad you like it."
"Like it? I love it."
I viewed the doll up close. Joe got all the details right—the silly grin and the cheery way I wave goodbye—all except one. "Is she wearing a ring? I never wear rings."
"I know." He let that sink in for a second.
"I don’t get it." I stared blankly. My confusion turned to astonishment when Joe got down on one knee and revealed another box in his hand, a ring box.
"Echo, I have never met anyone like you. You’re smart, funny, strong, and beautiful. You’re the one I want to spend my life with."
My heart pounded. I felt jumpiness in my nerves, like a thrilling sugar rush or an intense shot of adrenaline. Had there been a trampoline nearby, I would’ve been bouncing joyfully.
"Will you—"
"Yes, yes, yes." I started on my feet. I couldn’t wait for him to finish the question. Everyone in the restaurant applauded. A wide smile spread on Joe’s face, a smile I adored.
That day, we promised each other honesty and trust. We promised to never keep secrets and to always put our relationship first. I never thought that one year later, I’d be the one breaking these promises.
***
I traveled to the Land of No Return searching for answers, but I ended up with more questions. Still, I was glad I made that move. Had I not taken the risk, I wouldn’t have brought Ebba back home.
"Drink this," Vanna said, offering her a healing potion. "It’ll calm you."
"Th-thank you." Ebba’s hands trembled as she took the glass, spilling on her overall.
I extended my hand with a tissue. "Don’t worry about anything, Ebba. You’re safe here."
She gave me a faint smile that quickly morphed into a wince when she took the first sip of her drink.
"Tell us, Ebba, how did you get to that castle?" Vanna asked.
Ebba put the glass down and rested her hand on the couch arm. She peeked at Oscar, who rolled on the carpet without a single worry. Despite being in the coziness of Vanna’s apartment, Ebba seemed tense.
"It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk," I said.
"N-no, no. I’m fine." She didn’t look fine. "A few days ago, I w-was helping Pa on the b-boat when a storm hit us. We tried to get to the shore but the engine broke. Then a c-creature came out of the w-water. It h-h-hurt Pa," she said with a shrill in her voice. "I’m worried about Pa."
Ebba’s last memory of the incident was a Kataru grabbing her, after which she woke up in the servants’ room in Jivar’s castle. "There are others like me, but they are different," she explained the other prisoners didn’t remember who they were before. They just served in the castle. "Cooking and cleaning," she said, keeping her head down.
I was torn between sympathy and suspicion. If Jivar altered the memories of his prisoners, why didn’t he do the same to her? How can I trust she is telling the truth? I was a lawyer, after all. I had to be rational, but my rationality went out the window when Ebba drew a hopeful expression and asked, "Will you take me to Pa?"
I pursed my lips and tried to pick my words. How could I tell her that her father was dead? What could I say that wouldn’t break her heart? There were no words, not even spells, to ease the pain of loss. All I could do was tell the truth.
***
"I brought lunch," I announced. The irresistible smell of cheese spread when I sauntered into the apartment carrying two large pizzas. "Do you think it’ll cheer her up?"
"She lost her father, Echo," Kirby said with a sad smile.
"I know, I know." I nodded. "I just wish I could help."
Ebba had been staying with Vanna and Kirby for three days, during which she never stopped crying. I was desperate to help her, but Pizza wasn’t the solution. More than anyone, I understood.
As I unboxed the food on the round table, Kirby leaned forward and whispered, "I did what you asked."
"And?"
"She wasn’t lying."
"Oh, thank God." I exhaled in relief. I had asked Kirby to slip in a truth potion in Ebba’s food to clear our doubts without hurting her feelings.
While Kirby helped me unbox the food, Ebba came out of his room wearing Vanna’s gray, patternless pajamas. "This smells good," she said.
"Good morning, Princess," I cheered. "Did you sleep well?"
"Y-yeah. Thank you, Kirby, for giving me your room."
"Anytime," he said with a grin.
"I’m s-sorry for c-causing you all the trouble," she said coyly. "I should go home. Pa had good friends who can take me in."
"You’re not going anywhere," I said. "And you’re not causing any trouble. If you go back to Herotreat Coast, you’ll be putting everyone there in danger. This place is protected by magic, so Jivar won’t find you here. Stop saying these silly things and go get Vanna before the pizza gets cold."
I admit I wasn’t great at comforting people. I was a problem-solver, not a good listener or a shoulder to cry on. I grew up that way. Regardless, I genuinely wanted Ebba to get better. I wanted her to feel like a friend or a part of our odd family. I wished she could see through my heart because otherwise, I wasn't able to tell her any of that.
***
On the stove, the potion boiled in our giant cauldron. Whenever it was Kirby’s turn to teach me a new potion, he’d let me dress the part. Ebba walked into the kitchen to find the two of us wearing black capes and big hats like fairytale witches.
"Push, Echo, push," Kirby instructed as I stirred with the giant spoon. Hot steam came at my face. Although I enjoyed making potions, I wasn’t a big fan of the sore arms and the sweat.
"What are you making?" Ebba asked.
"Today’s lunch," Kirby replied. "Stinky, purple soup with extra nuts."
Ebba gaped.
"He’s joking," I explained. "But about the stink, is it supposed to be that bad?" The kitchen reeked of rotten cabbage and spoiled tomato sauce.
"Maybe we used too much fern," Kirby said, reaching for the textbook on the counter to review the ingredients.
"Would you like to help?" I asked Ebba as I put down the spoon and reached for a jar with a greenish herb that I gave to her. "You can add a pinch of this."
It took a few seconds for the elixir to work. Once my shadows faded away, I wandered around the barren land, surrounded by yellowish shrubs and a few small trees.
It must have been about ten minutes before I saw a Kataru cutting some leaves with its claws and carrying them between its teeth. I followed it to a small den between fractured rocks. There, the youngsters awaited. There were four of them, each one about a puppy’s size. Their eyes were still closed, so the mother had to feed them the leaves.
I had never imagined Katarus as anything more than enemies, beasts I had to slay. Maybe I didn’t want to see them in any other way; otherwise, I would’ve questioned many of my choices.
I left the den and continued to walk through the valley until I saw the shape of a building on the horizon—a medieval castle with high walls, round towers, and a moat surrounding it. It was out of place. I figured magic was involved.
To pass over the moat, I crossed a stone bridge that led to a gate with no guards. The sound of cascading water caught my attention. Beyond the gate was a fountain, surrounded by white flowers. Their golden stigmas shimmered like tiny stars, and they exhaled an ethereal fragrance, like lilies.
Beautiful. In awe, I wondered why a man with no soul would plant such marvelous flowers in his garden.
As I searched for an entrance to the castle, I saw a group of Katarus walking through an arched door on the side of the building. I found myself following them into a vast hall where fine tapestries hung on the stone walls. Each one came from a different era—ancient Egyptian, Greek, Medieval, and Persian. Ribbed columns protruded out of the stone floor with grandeur. But other than the Katarus, there were no signs of life whatsoever.
In the corner stood the stairs to the second floor. I didn’t dare climb them. Standing at the bottom, my chest hitched. I sensed the room upstairs was devoid of life force. I just knew whoever lived there had a hole instead of a heart.
I motioned myself along a wide corridor with large windows arranged to let the sunlight in. There were four closed doors and one open. Peeking inside, I saw a medieval room with a canopy bed and antique decor. The blue-eyed swordsman, the one I fought in Herotreat Coast, rested on a chair with his feet elevated on a small table and his sword leaning against his seat. In his hands, he had an old book on which his eyes were fixed. His gaze was sharp, focused, as if he lost himself in the words.
"No lemon balms?" a woman in the adjacent room yelled. "I want lemon balms. Lemon balms for my potion."
The swordsman chuckled, but when he heard glass breaking, he grabbed his sword and ran outside. I followed him to the corridor where he saw a young girl in a weary garment.
"Princess Viessa screamed at me again," she said, shivering in fear. "I swear there are no lemon balms in the kitchen."
"It’s all right." The swordsman gave her a gentle smile and a pat on the head. "I’ll get Viessa what she wants. You stay out of her way."
"Thank you, Mr. Doyle." The girl bowed her head.
His name is Doyle, I realized. It scared me how much I couldn’t read him. Despite the intimidating presence he had on the battlefield, he now acted like a gentleman. He was even kind to that poor girl.
***
A young man carried a tray of food to the second floor, dressed in drab too big for his scrawny figure. Seemingly scared of dropping it, he took slow, cautious steps up the stairs.
If he can do it, so can I. I tagged after him.
We arrived at a chamber with a golden throne settled at the center. Its blue cushions matched the colors of the curtains dancing at the windows. The arched ceiling seemed to envelop me, not in an embrace, but a smother.
On a wooden dining table, the servant placed the plates. He licked his lips when the smell of roasted meat spread in the air. I wondered how he ever got to that place. Did the Katarus bring him here? Was he too taken from his family? He must be terrified. But he didn't look scared. His eyes never left the food.
I worried about the time. How much longer do I have before the potion wears off? It had been forty-five minutes already, and I didn’t know where Ebba was.
The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted my thoughts.
"Lord Jivar," the servant said, dropping the empty tray and bringing his forehead to the ground. My heart skipped a beat.
As the tale was told, I had always imagined Jivar as a monster, but tales can be misleading. Walking into the room in his royal tunic, Jivar was more of a prince than a beast. He had the gravitas of a sly politician, the charm of a two-hundred-year-old vampire in a paranormal romance.
He sat at the table and took one bite of the food that seemed tasteless to him. He then gestured for the servant to join. The poor man reluctantly sat down, but relish quickly replaced his timidity, and he stabbed at the dishes, swallowing the meat and scarfing down the bread. He didn’t stop until he had wiped the plates clean.
"Satisfied?" Jivar asked, unamused.
"Yes, my lord." The servant rubbed his belly.
"I’m glad," Jivar said, but he didn’t seem that way.
With an apathetic grin, he leaned forward. He put his palms around the servant’s cheeks and pulled his face closer. I cringed.
A beam of light emerged out of the servant’s mouth. Jivar drew it in, filling up his lungs like a smoker indulging his first cigarette of the day. The servant grew ashen. Although he didn’t scream, pain showed in his eyes. His throat rattled with unsettling noises, and his body grew limp.
My hands flew to my mouth when I realized what was happening. No, no, This can’t be it. I went from disbelief to shock. I had learned that Jivar fed on souls, but I never wanted to witness it.
An ecstatic simper appeared on Jivar’s face as he sucked more of the light. Once the glow faded, all signs of pleasure disappeared.
Jivar let go of the servant, who stood up and rambled around the room like a ghost with no destination. No longer did I sense his fragility, his hunger for food, or even his fear.
Oh my God. I clutched my throat. That young man must’ve been a precious son, brother, or friend to someone. How come Jivar didn’t care? How come he took away his soul? And what happens when the soul is gone? Are all the memories, thoughts, and feelings gone as well? Is he even human now? Or will he live forever like an empty shell?
A Kataru came into the room and dragged the servant outside. As they left, a woman in a red dress entered, her heels clacking on the marble floor. She had a wreath of flowers on her head and a golden necklace with a blue diamond on her chest.
An amulet? This must be Viessa.
"Why are you back?" Jivar asked.
"The ritual needs the heart to stop, but he shouldn’t die," Viessa said. "Spells are no good, so how can we do it?"
"A spell will not work, but a potion will."
"I like potions." She pressed her finger to her chin. "Make a potion to stop the heart."
"This is what I need you to do," he said.
"Make a potion, make a potion." She burst into singing and ambled away.
Weird!
Jivar rose from the dining chair and scuffled towards his throne, his arms tucked behind his back. Halfway across the room, he stopped and looked in my direction.
"I am aware of your presence." His words almost gave me a heart attack. "Your tricks are not fooling me, Lú."
I held in my breath, unable to exhale. What will I do now? If he can see me, I’m done. Why is he calling me Lú? This is not the time, Echo, Think of an escape, you idiot.
We stared at each other.
God. I wish time would stop.
And that did it. The dancing curtains stood still, and Jivar froze like a statue. My left hand tingled. The number sixty appeared on its back. It counted down... fifty-nine... fifty-eight... fifty-seven...
A timer?
It took me five seconds to realize a Time Freeze spell was in action. I ran out of the throne room, down the stairs, and through the entrance hall. Struck by fear, I forgot all about Ebba. I couldn’t stop running until I passed the stone bridge and found a few trees to hide among. By then, both the invisibility and the time freeze spell were gone.
***
In my backpack, I had an extra bottle of the invisibility potion. I considered if it was worth the risk. I came here to get Ebba. I can’t go home without her.
But if I go back, Jivar will kill me.
As I weighed my options, two Katarus came at me.
I attacked with an Energy Ball. One collapsed, but the other withstood my blow. It trumpeted, calling out in a loud voice akin to an elephant, and five more Katarus came charging.
This place has two suns, maybe I can use their energy somehow. I didn’t have a spell for that, so I found myself calling for unexpected help.
"Grimoire."
Ever since I received my grimoire, Vanna had locked it away in her drawer. Many times, I imagined holding it in my hands, letting its power absorb me. I never thought I’d actually do it...until I did. My book floated midair, its dark aura spreading and seeping into me. For months, I had longed for that moment.
Should I be using this? I overcame my hesitation when the Katarus surrounded me. The book opened to show an empty page. A grimoire was an inscription book for a witch to create new spells. "O scorching sun. I summon your essence into me," I chanted, and the words appeared on the page in cursive writing. "Obey."
A heatwave ran through my veins like an electric pulse. Opening my palms, I created a fiery orb that quickly grew into a searing blaze—a blaze too hungry for Katarus’ flesh.
When I fought my first Kataru, I resorted to Dark Magic out of fear, but in The Land of No Return, I chose to go dark. I closed my eyes and listened as the blaze ate the beasts alive. Their pain-filled groans faded into the crackles of the fire. The image of the mother Kataru came to my mind, but I dismissed it.
As the fire turned into ashes, I fell to my knees, panting. My skin swelled and expelled the odor of singed hair.
"Help." a voice cried. I whirled around to see a woman my age. She had dark, braided hair and tanned skin, and she wore brown overalls and a yellow shirt that needed a good wash. As I approached her, the smell of fish wafted into my nose.
"H-h-elp me," she uttered in a somewhat thick accent. Her grass-green eyes were full of fear.
"Who are you, and how did you get here?" I asked.
"I a-am E-Ebba. I’m from He-Herotreat Coast. Please, take me home."
Chapter 8: Hellos and Goodbyes
Standing at the restaurant entrance, I saw Joe squirming in his seat. He looked at his watch and took a sip of water. Although he could’ve been enjoying the view of the pool or the romantic music playing in the background, his mind seemed to be preoccupied.
When he saw me approaching, he jumped to his feet and pulled out the chair for me. "Wow. You look...wow."
"Wow right back at ya." I grinned, knowing I made the right call borrowing Tara’s red dress and wearing my hair down for a change.
We sat. Joe adjusted his tie. His gaze shifted to the burning candles on the table, which gave off a sweet, cranberry scent.
"Is something wrong?" I asked when he was quiet.
"Everything is fine," he said.
Reaching under the table, he pulled out a wrapped gift that he gave to me. "Happy Valentine’s Day."
"Oooh." With child-like excitement, I unwrapped the layers of glittery paper. Joe’s face beamed with joy as he watched me. When I finally saw his gift, I burst into laughter. "Oh my God. This is so cute," I said, holding a bobblehead doll that looked like me—the one I had kept in my car ever since.
"I’m glad you like it."
"Like it? I love it."
I viewed the doll up close. Joe got all the details right—the silly grin and the cheery way I wave goodbye—all except one. "Is she wearing a ring? I never wear rings."
"I know." He let that sink in for a second.
"I don’t get it." I stared blankly. My confusion turned to astonishment when Joe got down on one knee and revealed another box in his hand, a ring box.
"Echo, I have never met anyone like you. You’re smart, funny, strong, and beautiful. You’re the one I want to spend my life with."
My heart pounded. I felt jumpiness in my nerves, like a thrilling sugar rush or an intense shot of adrenaline. Had there been a trampoline nearby, I would’ve been bouncing joyfully.
"Will you—"
"Yes, yes, yes." I started on my feet. I couldn’t wait for him to finish the question. Everyone in the restaurant applauded. A wide smile spread on Joe’s face, a smile I adored.
That day, we promised each other honesty and trust. We promised to never keep secrets and to always put our relationship first. I never thought that one year later, I’d be the one breaking these promises.
***
I traveled to the Land of No Return searching for answers, but I ended up with more questions. Still, I was glad I made that move. Had I not taken the risk, I wouldn’t have brought Ebba back home.
"Drink this," Vanna said, offering her a healing potion. "It’ll calm you."
"Th-thank you." Ebba’s hands trembled as she took the glass, spilling on her overall.
I extended my hand with a tissue. "Don’t worry about anything, Ebba. You’re safe here."
She gave me a faint smile that quickly morphed into a wince when she took the first sip of her drink.
"Tell us, Ebba, how did you get to that castle?" Vanna asked.
Ebba put the glass down and rested her hand on the couch arm. She peeked at Oscar, who rolled on the carpet without a single worry. Despite being in the coziness of Vanna’s apartment, Ebba seemed tense.
"It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk," I said.
"N-no, no. I’m fine." She didn’t look fine. "A few days ago, I w-was helping Pa on the b-boat when a storm hit us. We tried to get to the shore but the engine broke. Then a c-creature came out of the w-water. It h-h-hurt Pa," she said with a shrill in her voice. "I’m worried about Pa."
Ebba’s last memory of the incident was a Kataru grabbing her, after which she woke up in the servants’ room in Jivar’s castle. "There are others like me, but they are different," she explained the other prisoners didn’t remember who they were before. They just served in the castle. "Cooking and cleaning," she said, keeping her head down.
I was torn between sympathy and suspicion. If Jivar altered the memories of his prisoners, why didn’t he do the same to her? How can I trust she is telling the truth? I was a lawyer, after all. I had to be rational, but my rationality went out the window when Ebba drew a hopeful expression and asked, "Will you take me to Pa?"
I pursed my lips and tried to pick my words. How could I tell her that her father was dead? What could I say that wouldn’t break her heart? There were no words, not even spells, to ease the pain of loss. All I could do was tell the truth.
***
"I brought lunch," I announced. The irresistible smell of cheese spread when I sauntered into the apartment carrying two large pizzas. "Do you think it’ll cheer her up?"
"She lost her father, Echo," Kirby said with a sad smile.
"I know, I know." I nodded. "I just wish I could help."
Ebba had been staying with Vanna and Kirby for three days, during which she never stopped crying. I was desperate to help her, but Pizza wasn’t the solution. More than anyone, I understood.
As I unboxed the food on the round table, Kirby leaned forward and whispered, "I did what you asked."
"And?"
"She wasn’t lying."
"Oh, thank God." I exhaled in relief. I had asked Kirby to slip in a truth potion in Ebba’s food to clear our doubts without hurting her feelings.
While Kirby helped me unbox the food, Ebba came out of his room wearing Vanna’s gray, patternless pajamas. "This smells good," she said.
"Good morning, Princess," I cheered. "Did you sleep well?"
"Y-yeah. Thank you, Kirby, for giving me your room."
"Anytime," he said with a grin.
"I’m s-sorry for c-causing you all the trouble," she said coyly. "I should go home. Pa had good friends who can take me in."
"You’re not going anywhere," I said. "And you’re not causing any trouble. If you go back to Herotreat Coast, you’ll be putting everyone there in danger. This place is protected by magic, so Jivar won’t find you here. Stop saying these silly things and go get Vanna before the pizza gets cold."
I admit I wasn’t great at comforting people. I was a problem-solver, not a good listener or a shoulder to cry on. I grew up that way. Regardless, I genuinely wanted Ebba to get better. I wanted her to feel like a friend or a part of our odd family. I wished she could see through my heart because otherwise, I wasn't able to tell her any of that.
***
On the stove, the potion boiled in our giant cauldron. Whenever it was Kirby’s turn to teach me a new potion, he’d let me dress the part. Ebba walked into the kitchen to find the two of us wearing black capes and big hats like fairytale witches.
"Push, Echo, push," Kirby instructed as I stirred with the giant spoon. Hot steam came at my face. Although I enjoyed making potions, I wasn’t a big fan of the sore arms and the sweat.
"What are you making?" Ebba asked.
"Today’s lunch," Kirby replied. "Stinky, purple soup with extra nuts."
Ebba gaped.
"He’s joking," I explained. "But about the stink, is it supposed to be that bad?" The kitchen reeked of rotten cabbage and spoiled tomato sauce.
"Maybe we used too much fern," Kirby said, reaching for the textbook on the counter to review the ingredients.
"Would you like to help?" I asked Ebba as I put down the spoon and reached for a jar with a greenish herb that I gave to her. "You can add a pinch of this."
