Tomorrows Child (16 page)

“There must be
more; all this secrecy, all the looks… everything. There must be
more.”

Phoenix
shrugged and looked at Libby with innocence. “Not really, you just
overreacted a bit. There are some finer details, but basically
that’s all, I guess.”

I looked at
Libby and waited for her explanation. “Phoenix is right. There are
details, but you have most of the story. We were worried that you
would have a hard time accepting it all and honestly, I thought you
understood you were the last daughter. I’m sorry you felt
betrayed.”

“Well, then we
better get on with the details. I can’t really decide my entire
future without the details.”

“You’re taking
this better than I expected,” Libby said, looking at me as if she
thought I might run from the room any minute. I looked up and
noticed the door closed, maybe even locked.

“I just wanted
the truth.” That part was true. “What about saving the world? That
just seems over the top, but you said there are others like me.
Does that mean that there are others with the same prophecy?”

Libby sat with
her tea and answered, “I doubt there are prophecies exactly the
same as ours, however there are bound to be similar ones. There
have been messages and signs for many years, some have been quite
public, while others, like ours, are kept secret. When I say there
are other children like you, I am guessing there are others just
like you, in place, ready to assist. The source may be different,
but the message is likely to be the same.”

“What
message?”

“I don’t have
the message. That’s only for you. You’re the one who will receive
it.”

“How do you
know? How will I know? What if I already received it and missed
it?”

Phoenix smiled,
“I would know if you missed it. If it comes in a dream, it will be
different; there will be a way to tell.”

Libby held her
Book of Shadows open and turned it so I could read the lines about
me, “…the ninth daughter is the dreamer of dreams…”

So now I was
expected to dream the message. The strangeness of having Phoenix
share my dreams was a good indication that I wasn’t quite normal,
but then, neither was he.

“Shouldn’t this
have happened before? When we could have saved some of the people?”
My voice caught in my throat and my eyes glistened with tears that
threatened to overflow. I was thinking about Mum.

Libby reached
across and took my hand. “Everything happens exactly as it is
supposed to. We can only guess why we had to wait until we lost so
many and so much.”

It was almost
noon so the sun should have been high in the sky, casting tight
shadows beneath the trees, but the light in the house had dimmed
and I could barely read the rest of the prophecy. Outside, the sky
had grown dark, and thick black clouds obscured the sun. We hadn’t
noticed a storm brewing until the light in the house grew weak and
the breeze picked up. Libby looked a little worried because she was
normally better prepared. She claimed her old body was like a
barometer, one aching knee indicated rain, both knees - lots of
rain, and if her back flared up and her shoulders ached as well,
thunderstorms were certain. Today, nothing. Libby was fit as a
fiddle.

“Phoenix, you
should go and see if anyone needs a hand. Your Mum’s home alone and
may need your help.”

“Sure, but I’ll
come back before the storm hits,” Phoenix said as he rushed out of
the house. He jogged across the yard and into the forest without
hesitating.

Libby gave me a
list of things to do and rushed off to attend to her own chores.
We’d had heaps of storms during summer, every day for weeks it
seemed. None had caused this sort of panic in Libby. Normally, we
simply closed the windows on the weather side of the house and sat
inside drinking tea, listening to the sound of the rain on the tin
roof. Often, it was too loud to talk, but I enjoyed the chance to
sit peacefully inside, sheltered from the awesome weather.

I was in the
yard as the first rumble of thunder ripped through the sky. A flash
of lightening cut the darkness and the violent crash that followed
caused me to jump and squeal with unanticipated fear. I loved
storms usually. I’d always been the brave one in a storm and Mum
hated them. Today my bravado dissolved in the very first drop of
rain and I rushed to finish the last of my chores.

The sky was so
black, it was almost purple like a hideous bruise and there was no
end to it. No streaks of blue or filtered light where the purple
faded to show the edge of the storm, every inch of sky was the
colour of an overripe plum.

Inside the
house, it was dark as night and the need to hide grew. It made my
heart thump loudly in my chest. Perhaps it was Libby’s anxiety that
caused my panic or perhaps it was just the thunder and lightning
against the bruised sky. I stoked the fire and lit two candles to
provide a little light and some relief from the darkness and maybe
a little comfort.

Libby was still
outside, but Pepper was huddled deep in the cushions on the lounge.
I couldn’t settle down while Libby was still out in the rain. The
raindrops were still large, slow drops, but they fell with a
certain intensity. Surprisingly, the rain was cold, icy cold. Rain
during the summer had been warm, a real treat in comparison to the
chilling rain that now fell. I found Libby struggling to tie down
the little wooden structure that housed the chickens. She had
already covered the veggie garden and herbs with large sheets of
shade cloth. Purpose-made covers to protect from hail, with eyelets
on each corner, were pulled taut and secured to hooks on posts
around the garden.

“I’m done here,
let’s get inside!” Libby yelled against the wind and the thunder
that rumbled across the sky without a break. The contrast between
the darkness and the bright lightning flashes were more than enough
encouragement to send me running for the house.

Phoenix was
also running towards the house, followed by Navarre. When they saw
us further away, down in the garden, they changed course and ran
towards us.

“What are you
doing? Get inside! I’ll finish this,” Phoenix yelled at both of us,
but it was unnecessary, the job was done and we were all running.
Libby might have been spry, but she didn’t run as fast as the rest
of us. Navarre reached the house first, followed by me, Libby, then
Phoenix. By the time we reached the house, the rain was teeming
down in a constant stream of freezing slices of ice that pierced
through our clothes as if we were naked.

Phoenix threw
the door closed, but the rain had already invaded the house,
covering anywhere it could reach.

“What did Ruben
say?” Libby was breathless and I searched the boys’ faces for a
hint of composure to take away the concern that continued to
grow.

Navarre
shrugged and Phoenix said, “Dad said to come here and stay with you
and Psyche.”

“No, no… about
the storm; what did he say about the storm?”

“He doesn’t
know,” Navarre said. “Dad said that we can be pretty sure it’s not
a cyclone, there is too much thunder and lightning plus, it’s
almost winter; but the wind is fierce and picked up so quickly. It
took everyone by surprise.”

“Well, we’re
safe here. This house has been through hundreds of storms and
dozens of cyclones… yes, we’re safe here,” Libby said, trying to
convince herself more than us.

Pools of water
dripped on the floor where we stood. I sloshed my feet a couple of
times in the puddles. “What are you two going to do? Stand here in
wet clothes ‘til the storm’s over?”

Navarre started
peeling off his wet clothes until he was standing in his underwear,
“Good on ya, Navarre! There are women here. No one wants to see you
naked,” Phoenix reminded him.

“I’ll dry them
by the fire; and anyway, it’s not like I’m naked, not really.”
Navarre walked to the old stove and hung his clothes over the rail
that ran along the front.

“Leave the boy,
Phoenix, we can cope,” Libby handed Phoenix a towel. “If you like,
you can take your modesty into the bathroom and change. Wrap the
towel around yourself while I see if I can find an old shirt that
may fit.”

“I’ll be fine.
Thanks.”

“You’re not
dripping water all over my house.”

Phoenix was
displaying a side of himself I had not seen before. Navarre, on the
other hand, behaved exactly as I expected. Phoenix was guarded
while Navarre was laid-back and light-hearted. The contrast in
their attitudes and behaviours were quite different, but the boys
were similar in many other ways.

Libby tossed
Navarre a towel. He dried his hair and stood beside the fire.
Navarre had honey-coloured, olive skin like Phoenix and the rest of
his family. His dark brown hair had the same scruffy style as
Phoenix’s, though it was a little longer. No one would doubt the
boys were brothers or the children of Tahinah and Ruben.

I found Tahinah
beautiful and had to admit that both boys looked a lot like their
mother. Standing in front of the fire, shirtless, tanned and
muscled, I realised that Navarre was every bit as gorgeous as she
was.

Libby
eventually discovered she had nothing to fit either boy. She tried
to explain to Phoenix that he would have to put his modesty aside,
lest he caught a chill and cause his mother’s wrath. Everyone
laughed at that. Though it was a joke, I failed to get it.

“It’s not
modesty, it’s respect,” Phoenix said as he removed his shirt and
hung it on the rack behind the stove. A shiver ran up my spine and
I stood, staring at Phoenix, thinking about cold showers.

“Psyche, do you
think you could change out of your wet clothes? I know you have
spare clothes.” I realised that with all the fuss over the boys
changing, I was still standing in the same puddle of water that I’d
been in when I entered the room. I took a deep breath, muffled a
sigh, and left to change.

The storm was
relentless, the rain on the tin roof was deafening and the roaring
wind continued to intensify. The windows shook and rattled and
small spits of rain forced their way into my room. Pepper was now
curled up in a tight ball between two pillows. At least he’d
stopped shaking and appeared to be asleep.

Phoenix and
Navarre were in the lounge room when I returned, Navarre was
sprawled on the sofa and Phoenix was adding wood to the fire. Libby
was in the kitchen and the smell of spices filled the house.

Our house was
filled with simple, old furniture. Much of it appeared to be about
the same age as Libby, though it could have been much older. With
Navarre on the sofa, I left the recliner for Libby and arranged a
pile of cushions on the floor.

Libby had
dozens of cushions, and most had been given as gifts. I remembered
making one a few years ago and posting the ornate, but empty
cushion cover to her for Christmas. I didn’t pick it now; it was
the least comfortable cushion she owned. Mum and I had been going
through a crazy patchwork phase. Tiny bits of fabric were pieced
together like a jigsaw, then hand stitched, embroidered, beaded,
buttoned, glittered and bejewelled. The cushion was a masterpiece,
but totally impractical and extremely uncomfortable.

Libby entered
the lounge with a tray, holding four mugs, a steaming teapot, large
chunks of buttered bread and a jar of honey. She sat the tray down
and Phoenix arrived at the table with one leap that landed him
perfectly in place. The blazing fire filled the room with a
mystical glow, so I no longer felt cold and glum.

“Chai tea,
anyone?” Libby asked and explained for my benefit the makings of
chai tea. “Chai is a traditional Indian tea - black tea leaves,
cardamom, ginger, cloves, and cinnamon boiled gently in milk. You
can add a little honey if you like.” The aroma of the spiced tea
was divine and reminded me of the spiced Christmas biscuits I used
to make with my mother.

“I think Psyche
knows more about magick than she’s letting on.” Libby smiled at me,
but spoke to Phoenix, “Have you realised that every time we plan to
spend the day on her lessons, something comes up to defer them for
another day?”

“Actually, I
was just thinking the same. We’ve had every type of distraction
possible, none seem to be Psyche’s making, but I was wondering.”
Phoenix knew Libby was joking and his grin grew into a full smile.
His violet eyes twinkled and glistened in the firelight. He was no
longer conscious of his half-naked body, but I was.

“You both know
how ridiculous that is,” I said, after constructing a mental
inventory of the delays we’d had. “And mean. I would never cause
these things.” The list was growing and I wondered how they could
joke when most of the delays had been quite serious, even
life-threatening. “Even if I could do any of this, I wouldn’t. You
know that, right?”

I couldn’t get
angry. I couldn’t do anything but stare at Phoenix. I was one
hundred percent distracted. Phoenix was so close, I could feel the
heat from his body and although I wanted to relax, I couldn’t. I
hadn’t expected this.

Phoenix looked
at me with that same intensity he had in those first few days of my
arrival, and as if on cue, I blushed. He smiled and reached out for
my hand, squeezed it and let it drop on my lap. “We’re just joking!
We know you didn’t do this, at least not the storm… or the
abduction.”

Thankfully, he
didn’t know what I was really thinking.

Navarre was
quiet, eating and drinking. He was sitting cross-legged at the
squat table where the food sat. He was still half-dressed, and
although I had just realised how gorgeous he was and how similar to
Phoenix, his presence didn’t affect me like his brother’s did. But
I would have to be dead not to notice him and long dead not to
respond in some way.