Children of the Elementi (7 page)

She couldn’t remember her exact age when Aunt Clara had shown her the box of her old jewelry, but she couldn’t have been any older than seven. Her aunt had shown her what each gem was. She was surprised and pleased at how quickly Kiera picked it up. For Kiera though, it was easy to tell them apart. They not only looked different but they
felt
different. It was as if they resonated on a different frequency. Even if they were a different color she knew what they were immediately. She knew what their essence was. She just needed to be shown one example of a type.

Impressed, her aunt had told her friends. Soon all the women in their camp had brought their jewelry to find out what they had. She was able to guess what they were and after a while she was also able to let them know how much they were worth. Her aunt charged them a small amount but it was at least enough to buy books. With them she was able to teach Kiera how to read and write in secret.

Aunt Clara was not really one of the travelers but had fallen in love with her father’s brother and never left. Kiera had loved to hear the story growing up, it was so romantic, but she wasn't one of them. Kiera’s father would never have approved of her teaching his daughter.

Her aunt had managed to keep Kiera’s skills a secret for longer than she thought possible - only the women had known, and for at least a year. Aunt Clara knew Kiera’s father only too well. That was until he arrived home early one day.

Kiera remembered his face as he had walked in to Aunt Clara's caravan - stony.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. What are you doing?” he’d asked. Not realizing anything was wrong; the old lady sitting opposite Kiera told him that Kiera was valuing her jewelry for her. Kiera’s heart dropped. What would he do?

To Kiera’s relief, he acted casual. The stupid woman had warbled on obliviously.

“It’s amazing,” the lady said, “you must be very proud. I don’t know anyone else who can value a stone without even looking at it!” Kiera could tell this infuriated him. Small red dots of anger appeared on his cheeks... but still he managed to keep his rage in check. He just nodded, his eyes flickered briefly and then he stalked away.

She thought he’d forgotten about it. For days he made no mention of it. As usual she made breakfast for both of them on the open fire and each morning he went out, returning in the early hours.

It wasn’t her father’s fault, she reflected. He just wasn’t any good at adapting to change. He used to be a tinsmith her aunt had told her. They didn’t need much and he had made a respectable amount of money - enough so they could live on it - until plastics became ubiquitous. This was before Kiera could remember, but she was told he was a different man.

As it got harder and harder to travel and more difficult to sell his skills, he became bitter. It was their right to travel, he kept insisting, and Kiera could tell it was only a matter of time before he exploded. Every year more campsites were taken away, and every year a small part of his heart was turned to ice.

...And that is where I came in,
she thought. That evening he returned home, but this time with a stranger. It wasn’t like any traveler Kiera had seen before. To Kiera he was big, not tall. He wasn’t fat, but he had to be the largest man she had ever seen.

She watched as they talked at the campfire. As she approached they quieted as she served them coffee in tin mugs, chatting animatedly again when she withdrew to the other side of the fire.

Through the crackling flames she studied his features. The stranger had a scar running from the corner of his left eye, along his cheek to the lobe of his ear. It must have healed wrong she thought. Whatever happened to him happened recently and had left that vivid purple mark. Although she tried, she couldn’t help staring at it. As she watched she grew nervous, they were talking about her - her father kept pointing in her direction across the fire and gesturing excitedly at the man.

Kiera shivered with apprehension, wrapping her arms about herself. Trying hard to lip-read, she found it very difficult to understand what was going on. Without warning their voices became clearer. It sounded like they were seated right next to her. Her father explained what she could do. Tingles of fear trickled down her back and despite the fire, she felt cold. The man seemed very interested but hope rose as he seemed skeptical.

She could almost swear that she heard more than they were actually saying. It was impossible but she knew that if she couldn’t to do what they would ask her, that man would happily kill her father - for wasting his time just as easily as if she just refused to do it.

They wanted to test her first, so the first job had been easy. They were checking to see if what her father had said was true. They picked her up the following night when the rest of the camp was asleep. It was too dark to read the number plate or even see the color of the car clearly, but she suspected that they would not be the real plates anyway.

There were four men already in the car. She squeezed into the remaining space in the back. They all wore black suits and looked like bouncers she’d once seen in Dublin. The cramped two-hour drive was excruciating - no one spoke, not even to introduce themselves.

She had no idea where they were going and she wasn’t told what to expect. When grilled about the journey later by her father she could only describe the outside of the house they had arrived at. For all she knew they had been driving in circles for the two hours she was gone.

They pulled up outside a large detached town house, passing a Ferrari shining silver-grey in the moonlight. Three men got out quietly and signaled for her to follow them. At the door she was surprised to find that they already had a key. The tallest man fitted the key in the lock but it didn’t work. Unperturbed he tried another similar key from the ring. It wasn’t until the third key the door opened. Everyone piled inside, eager to get away from any prying eyes. One of the men spoke in a whisper.

“Right, Campbell said you were good. The owners have gone on holiday for a week but we still have to be quiet. There should be some diamonds here. Can you find them?”

Kiera frowned. Standing still, she let her awareness gradually spread out from her body, seeking that special resonance that only a diamond has. There was nothing on the ground floor. Climbing the staircase she let her awareness spread out further as she moved. There! She felt it. The vibrations were tighter upstairs. With helping her aunt’s friends, she learned early that the higher quality jewels always vibrated faster.

Her whole body resonated on the same level as the stone. She nearly laughed out loud. It was too easy. She was almost running along the corridor. Her feet trod silently on the plush carpet. At the third bedroom on the right she stopped abruptly and confidently opened the door. Standing at the center of the room, she pointed under the bed.

“Down there, under the bed.”

The men were directly behind her and the closest nodded. Inclining his head at the others, they picked up the bed and shuffled it across the room. Placing it in the corner without a sound, they rolled the rug away from the polished wooden floor. Underneath Kiera saw a small hatch cut in the floorboards. As she watched, the first man opened a black doctor’s bag he was carrying and carefully pried open the hatch with the tool he took from it.

Out of the way in the corner, she couldn’t see clearly how he opened the safe. He listened hard while turning a dial and within moments, it was open. The man beckoned her to sit beside him.

Reluctantly she moved closer, kneeling by the open hatch. She looked at the man who nodded in response. She reached out and took out three velvet wrapped parcels from the hole laying them beside her. The man beside her reached out for them but she shook her head violently. Ignoring everything but the vibrations, she went straight to the bottom of the safe. She knew from the feel of the jewelry that the boxes beside her held only worthless costume fakes. The real diamonds were beneath.

Using her nails she scraped along the bottom. At the corner she located a small hole. Fitting her fingers through it she pulled. The bottom of the safe gave way to show another space beneath. Now the vibrations increased in intensity. They must have been encased in lead she thought. Grabbing a cream silk pouch she threw it at the men standing by her as if it burned her fingers.

“There they are!”

The tall man just laughed catching it.

“You won’t be so dismissive when you get some of the profits from this baby!” But Kiera was ashamed, she had promised never to use her talent for anything illegal. She never told her aunt about the jewelry thefts - or any of her family. It was between her, her father and that horrible man.

On their way out, she saw a dying orchid beside the door. For some reason she felt compelled to touch the failing plant. For a second she felt dizzy as pure energy leapt from her finger. Confused, she stared at it. It seemed to be a little healthier than it had before. She shrugged her shoulders. She must have imagined it.

Since that time, she had met that man countless times. She had learned to dread his approach, his gravelly voice. That first job appeared in the papers the following week. Her aunt read it aloud to her while her father was out. Kiera remembered that day clearly, when the paper reported that the orchid had miraculously recovered. The owners of the house thought it was strange the burglars would leave a healthy plant instead of their dead one. Her aunt had laughed at that. Why worry about a plant when they lost thousands of pounds in jewels?

Afterwards, Kiera had tried it again on some dying plants at the end of the camp. It took several tries but she found that she got stronger each time. Soon she was able to heal trees by a thought without even needing to touch them. From that point on every house she went to she made any plants she saw in the buildings healthy. The paper thought she replaced them but she knew better. It was the least she could do.

She hadn’t done badly out of the arrangement. It wasn’t as though any of those families were poor, Kiera reasoned as she tried to justify the memories to herself. They, no, she needed the money more. After each job, the man had given them some money. She would always hide away a third for herself. Her father wasn’t around when the men brought the payment, so he never knew what it was. She was sure the man with the scar knew she kept some back but he never told her father if he did.

Dragging herself away from her memories, Kiera made her decision - it had to be now. It was time to go. She had just turned fifteen and she was heartily sick of the life. She had already put some of the money in an account and she knew where to go for a passport.

Her ability to read minds had come and gone often over the years, but it had given her some useful information. She knew how to pick locks, where to fence money and most important of all where to go for that all-important passport.

She knew the system but she also knew where to go next. Her aunt had told her of some family in the UK she could stay with. She needed to go to an English-speaking country she reasoned, and England would be the easiest to get to. If she stayed in Ireland her father would be able to find her eventually. The traveler community was not that large.

Stuffing the passport in with a spare set of clothes, she took one more look at the room. She wouldn’t miss it - any of it. Not even her father. Her only remaining tie, her aunt, had died last year. She was finally free. Slinging the backpack over her shoulders, she made her way out to her new life.

Getting through customs concerned Kiera the most. She needn’t have worried though; Campbell’s mind had told her the name of the best forger in Ireland. Even so, passport control just waved her through. She didn’t even have to open it!

As she strode through the station she contemplated her next move. She had to find her family. Taking a couple of hundred out of the cashpoint Kiera scanned the station for signs. The tube station was across the hall. Knowing the family was in Enfield she planned to take the Piccadilly line straight to Oakwood. Her cousins lived next to the park there.

She should have accepted Aunt Clara’s offer. She had wanted to contact them before she died but Kiera had always refused. She didn’t want to think about what would happen when Aunt Clara wasn’t around anymore. If they didn't talk about it, it wouldn't happen. Life doesn't work that way she thought sadly. Standing on the platform, Kiera chewed her lip, pushing back the emotions. She missed her. She knew the Jelleys would let her stay. Her aunt had told her how close she had been to her sister when she was younger.

Kiera took out her address book. She could read now. It had taken torturous months but her aunt had insisted on the lessons once she found about the thefts. Kiera had kept her vow to herself never to tell her aunt, but the wily older woman was wise enough to know that one day she would have to move on when she was old enough. To survive on her own, she would need to be able to read.

It had taken her a long time to get this far, finally to have independence. Kiera stepped on to the train and settled back in the seat.

The tube train soon filled up, and people of all types were packed in like sardines: business workers, tourists, housewives and shoppers. The acrid smell of so many people cramped in together was difficult to ignore. She wrinkled her nose but after a few minutes she got used to it. At each station more and more people joined the train. It was getting more and more difficult for people to get on and off.

Seated at the end of a row of seats nearest the door, Kiera had just enough space to ignore the discomfort of the other passengers. A woman, obviously pregnant, leant against the glass screen on her left. She had one hand holding on to the grips and her left-hand holding a paperback. As they reached Oxford Circus, the door began to open and close repeatedly. It jolted Kiera from her stupor. Realizing the discomfort the woman in front must be in, Kiera half-rose to give up her seat. Before she could, a tall man dressed in a scruffy creased pinstripe suit realized he was about to miss his stop. He began to elbow passengers out of his way with one arm and use his briefcase as a battering ram with the other. People began to shout as his briefcase hit thighs and elbows. He ignored them, desperate to get off.