The Lost Girl (15 page)

Everybody shuffled off to their rooms, looking worried and tired. I took Vigil to my bedroom so he could sleep there for the rest of the night, and then I went to Tristan’s room. He was already lying in bed, deep in thought, by the time I wriggled underneath the sheets.

“I was thinking about what to do,” he began, his voice low and cautious. “We have to go see Celeste tomorrow, Joe.”

Oh, God!
And I thought the night couldn’t get any worse.

“She might be the only one who can help us,” he continued. “So you have to suck it up and go see her. And be nice while we’re there!”

“I am
always
nice. She’s the one who always provokes me,” I muttered under my breath.

“We need her help, Joey. In fact, you are in this mess right now
because
you didn’t ask for help when you needed it.”

“Fine,” I huffed, and turned my back on him.

I hated to admit it, but Tristan was right. Celeste could get us out of this mess, so I really needed to do as he suggested: suck it up and ask for her help.

Just. Freaking. Great.

Celeste Harker. The eldest of the Harkers – Celeste, Arice and Luna Harker – the witchy sisters. They knew pretty much everything there was to know about magic, spells, curses and incantations, all sorts; if magic was involved, they knew all about it. Especially Celeste, Miss Smarty Pants.

God. This girl irritated the living hell out of me.

Tristan said we were both too stubborn, and that’s why we fought so much all the bloody time. I liked to think it was because she was a bossy, wise-ass-know-it-all, always-had-to-have-her-own-way type of person.

I couldn’t see any relation to me whatsoever.

Celeste was pale, blonde and petite, and looked like a delicate snow princess. But once you got to know her, you quickly realized she was not as fragile as she appeared. She was strong-minded, bad-tempered and old-mannered for her twenty-five years of age. Celeste studied all types of magic and was like a living human-encyclopedia of the occult.

Her younger sister Arice was the most outgoing and cheerful of the sisters. Arice was expert in Wiccan magic: white, healing spells for the mind, spirit and body. Whereas Luna was a bit on the odd side. Luna studied dark magic and wore heavy gothic make-up. I was always rather scared of her.

Together, the three Harker sisters commanded the three forms of magic: Arice the White, Luna the Black and Celeste the Gray.

Celeste had been my tutor the first year we arrived in the city, recommended by Miss Violet, my occult mentor, who had helped with Tristan’s case after the New Year’s spell. Back then, she had tried to help us find a magical way to
keep Tristan alive, but she was too far away to guide me now.

Celeste was supposed to teach me the basics of magic after that: guide me along the supernatural path, so to speak, and help me hone and control my empathy-sight ability.

The fact that I didn’t know how to switch off my sight was a constant source of aggravation between Celeste and me, which wasn’t helped by the fact that I could read her so easily, even when she tried to block me. Every time I tried to turn off my sight, I ended up with the most intense headache, so after a while I just stopped trying.

Celeste also tried to boss me around, although I wouldn’t let her. That made her extremely mad at me. She said I didn’t have the correct discipline to be a real witch. So I stormed out of her house one day and never went back. That was a year ago. One entire year without contacting the Harkers. Tomorrow’s reunion was going to be swell … I could hear the nagging already.

Next morning I woke up really early to find Tristan talking to Vigil in the kitchen. All the boys were still fast asleep in their rooms.

“Hey, Vigil, how are you feeling?” I asked, watching him from the other side of the counter. He looked a lot better today.

“I am feeling well, thank you. My head is not annoying me any more, which is a relief. But I woke up with a … void in my stomach. So very strange,” he said.

“He was hungry,” Tristan explained, trying to hide a chuckle.

I laughed, watching Vigil munching a piece of toast quite happily.

“Yes, Tristan helped me understand this ‘hunger’ thing. It was very uncomfortable. But I have found the eating occupation quite satisfying.” At this he burped lightly. “Pardon me,” he added.

“So, you were saying this thing that attacked you is probably going to be back soon?” Tristan continued the conversation they had been having before I came in.

“Yes, most likely,” Vigil answered. “It has left all its possessions behind – some
very
precious magical artifacts. It will surely want them back.”

“How do you know that? Maybe that light explosion killed him. You know, disintegrated his shadowy little ass,” I said with relish, hoping that would be the case.

“Interchange magical orbs do not have the exterminating powers. It is certainly alive. The light of the glass ball must have scared him into hiding yesterday. But he will soon try to return to this house.”

“So we need to get this mess sorted before he comes back,” Tristan reasoned. “And that means …”

“… I need to talk to Celeste,” I finished for him. “I know. We’re going, we’re going.”

“So, it’s settled. Let’s go see Celeste.”

Tristan clapped his hands and stood up. He was cheerful; he’d never wanted me to stop seeing Celeste. He liked the idea of me being able to turn off my sight. Sometimes it became an issue, the lack of privacy for his intimate thoughts. He was probably hoping I would resume my witching training activities after this get-together today.

“Who is this Celeste person?” Vigil asked, confused.

“Celeste is a witch. We are going to ask if she can help switch us back,” I explained.

“You don’t seem very pleased,” he pointed out.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, she’s thrilled!” Tristan answered for me, slapping my back playfully and walking away with a knowing smirk.

I followed him with dark, foreboding clouds over my head.

Tristan closed the door of his car with a wide grin on his face.

“See? We even found a parking space right in front of her house. It’s a sign we should be here!”

I looked around. The street was almost deserted; there were plenty of parking spaces.

“Maybe it’s a sign that business at the Harkers’ is going sour,” I muttered.

Okay. I was majorly sulking. I hadn’t wanted to come. We had left the house in such a hurry, only stopping to leave the boys a quick message about where we were. Tristan pretended he didn’t notice my gloomy mood while he’d driven us to the Harkers’. Vigil had looked terrified throughout the whole ride. He hated cars; they were a far too primitive and dangerous way to locomote for his taste.

We walked to the front door, rang the bell and after a few moments someone answered.

“Hello?” Arice Harker greeted, opening the door. “Oh, my. Joey! Long time, no see.”

Arice Harker was wearing a flowery summer dress; her auburn hair fell over her chubby shoulders.

“Hi, Arice,” Tristan and I greeted her back.

“Ah, you brought Tristan with you, too. Hi, Tristan! And who’s the cutie, behind you?” she asked, glancing around us.

“This is Vigil,” I introduced him as he stepped forward and dipped his head in a formal bow.

Arice gave him a baffled look, before turning back to us with a warm smile. “I reckon y’all want to talk to Celeste? She predicted we’d have special guests today.” She winked and motioned for us to follow.

The Harker residence was pretty much what you’d expect of a stereotypical witches’ house. It was kind of dark and gloomy, and odd occult things were stacked everywhere you looked. Scented candles and incense were laid on every table, and colorful gemstones of all shapes and sizes, along with amulets and magical objects, filled the shelves on the walls.

We shuffled quickly to the back of the house, passing Arice’s sister Luna on the way. She was sitting on the living-room couch, wearing a revealing black tank-top, tight black jeans and a lot of dark make-up.

“Well, hello, there, Joe Gray. Looking … different,” Luna said with a sneer. The Harkers’ pet, Mr. Skittles, was lying lazily on her lap, looking as bored as Luna sounded.

Mr. Skittles was a big, feral-looking cat with black fur matted with scars. Its left ear was missing a huge chunk and it had yellow, intelligent eyes that followed you everywhere with suspicion. Yeah, taste the rainbow, Skittles. Right. More like a rainbow of deadly claws and lots of pain. Skittles took a few steps towards me, and the fur on his back rose immediately. He let out a loud hiss.

I retreated a step and cowered behind Tristan. The cat’s behavior suddenly made me remember Sneaky Nick with his yellow eyes, sharp teeth and all the scary hissing.

“Don’t mind him. He’s probably reacting to Joey’s weird aura,” Luna said, trying to grab him and pull him back onto her lap.

“W-what?” I asked in surprise.

“Luna!” Arice admonished her sister, appalled. “You know it’s not polite pointing out people’s auras, weird or not. Don’t mind her,” Arice apologized, urging us to carry on down the hallway.

Flipping weird witches with crazy weird cats. Ugh.

Arice knocked on a door at the end of the hall, and Celeste’s annoyed voice beckoned her to enter.

We walked inside her office to find her slim figure hunched over a desk covered in folders that lay open in front of her. Papers were scattered everywhere, along with manuscripts, piles of battered books and old scrolls.

She looked up with a start when she realized her sister wasn’t alone, quickly adjusting her white blouse and patting her golden hair back in place, her eyes staring curiously at us. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you had company, Arice,” she said in a formal tone. “Hello, Miss Gray. Mr. Halloway.”

“Hello, Miss Harker,” I replied.

She picked up the undercurrent of sarcasm in my voice and clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly in my direction.

Tristan nudged me sharply in the ribs and stepped in quickly, seizing Celeste’s hand in a polite handshake and giving me quite the heated glare.

“Hello, Miss Harker,” he greeted with a soft smile. He
gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and the way he said her name was soothing and respectful. “I know you must be busy, and we didn’t call in advance to announce we were coming, but if you could spare us a minute of your time, we’d be so immensely grateful.” He spoke in the nicest way he possibly could.

She eyed him warmly for a second before slowly withdrawing her hand and nodding, motioning for us to sit down.

She tidied up the mess on her desk while everybody found a seat, and then she swiveled her chair around to face us, leaned back and cleared her throat.

“So, what can I do for you?” she asked, her face calm and her hands crossed in front of her. “Is this about Joey’s aura?” she said, hazarding a guess.

“What do you mean by that?” I exclaimed, annoyed by all the weird-aura comments. “Why do you guys keep saying my aura is wrong?”

“Well, usually your aura is wavy, like flowing water. Now it’s all flaring red and bursting in bright lights, like the surface of a small sun. Never seen one like that before,” Celeste mused.

“Oh. Right. That’s because I’m buffed up on Vigil’s unearthly superpowers now. Hmm, remember Vigil?” I said, pointing at him by my side. “I’ve told you about him before.”

Her eyes bugged out of her sockets as she stared at Vigil.

“You mean he is
the
Vigil? The Gray One Vigil?” she asked.

“Yes. That’s him. Vigil, this is Celeste Harker. Celeste, this is Vigil.”

“Miss Harker, it is very nice meeting you. Thank you for helping us in this difficult moment.” Vigil bowed his head and offered a kind smile.

“O-oh … G-gosh, it’s an honor having you in my home, sir,” she said, blushing fiercely.

Huh. This was a first. I’d never seen Celeste blushing before.

“H-how can I be of assistance?” she stammered, trying to cover her embarrassment.

Vigil began telling her about our little power-switch situation, and when he’d finished explaining things, Celeste paused, a thoughtful look on her face. I wished so badly that I could read her right now. Did she know a way to help us? I had no clue whatsoever.

“I understand, Mr. Vigil,” she said. “Thank you for explaining matters to me.”

Then her eyes glazed a little and her voice softened, like she was in some sort of trance.
“There cannot be redemption without the virtue of humility. You cannot see clearly if you are filled with too much pride. The end of your journey lies within the moment of acceptance of your flaws and errors. It is what makes you human. You cannot forget this or you will forget your humanity as well.”

After a few seconds she blinked rapidly, like she was waking from a dream.

We all stared at her in silence while she blinked a couple more times. “Huh, what was I saying?” she asked, a little uncertainly.

“What was
that
all about?” I was the first to ask. “Why did you sound all weird like that?”

“Weird like what?” Celeste asked, obviously baffled.

“You were talking about the virtue of humility, and
about flaws and errors,” Tristan offered, as if she couldn’t remember.

“Okay, I know what this is all about. You can stop with the act.” It finally dawned on me. “You won’t help us unless I beg, am I right? Fine. Please, I need your help, Celeste. There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

I was really upset. She wanted to hear me plead, and rub in my face how much I needed her now. I had stormed out of her house a year ago, telling her I didn’t need her for anything, and now here I was tail between my legs and knee-deep in a mess that I had caused.

“W-what? No, I was meaning to say I’ll try to help. I don’t know if I can do much, but I’ll try my best,” she said, seeming genuinely puzzled, turning to look at Vigil. “Do you have this glass ball with you, sir?”

“Yes. Here it is.” Vigil took the dark glass ball out of his pocket and put it in the middle of the coffee table in front of us.