The Legacy Of Lightning And Sapphires E-Book

Victory Storm

• Herausgeber: Tektime
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 411

Beschreibung

I had always known that there was something special and magical inside me, but I had never sought answers.

Why uncover the past, when I was happy with my foster family, my books and my job at the bookstore? However, fate had other plans for me and the arrival of Scarlett Leclerc, my twin sister, whose existence I did not suspect, had completely overwhelmed my life. Suddenly all those questions I had never had the courage to ask myself had been answered and... a family claiming me. Keeping my life in balance with that news had been complicated, but I had always managed, until my sister asked me to make an exchange: to live her life for a week in New York, while she went to France to discover the Leclerc magic that had been taken from us. I had accepted, thus realising a dream of mine. Everything was going well, until a student with blue eyes tinged with violet had threatened me: ”When you made fun of me, maybe you forgot that I could kill you at any moment.” What did that boy want from me? Why was he chasing me? Why was he acting like I was his girlfriend?

Leseprobe

Victory Storm

The Legacy of Lightning and Sapphires

Translated by L. Rizzi-Erneste

© 2023 - Victory Storm

Table of contents

The Legacy of Lightning and Sapphires

Prologue

PART ONE

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

SECOND PART

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

The Legacy of Lightning and Sapphires

Victory Storm

I had always known there was something special and magical inside me, but I had never sought answers. Why uncover the past, when I was happy with my adopted family, my books and my job at the bookstore? However, fate had other plans for me and the arrival of Scarlett Leclerc, my twin sister, whose existence I had never suspected, had completely overwhelmed my life. Suddenly all those questions I never had the courage to ask myself had been answered and... a family claiming me. Keeping my life in balance with that news had been complicated, but I'd always managed, until my sister had asked me to make an exchange. Live her life for a week in New York, while she went to France to discover the Leclerc magic that had been taken from us. I accepted, thus realising a dream of mine. Everything was going well, until a student with blue eyes tinged with violet threatened me:

"When you made fun of me, maybe you forgot that I could kill you at any moment." What did that boy want from me? Why was he chasing me? Why was he acting like I was his girlfriend?

©2023 Victory Storm

Email: [email protected] Website: www.victorystorm.com

Publisher: Tektime

Translator (ita > eng): LRizzi-Erneste

Cover: Design by Victory Storm

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or disseminated by any means, photocopying, microfilming or otherwise, without permission of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Characters and places mentioned are inventions of the author and are intended to lend veracity to the narrative. Any analogies with facts, places and persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

Prologue

I was so thrilled that I couldn't sit still.

The dream of my life had just come true and I still couldn't believe it.

Of course, that dream was time-limited and the pain in my feet from those killer heels didn't play in my favour but, despite everything, nothing seemed to be able to dent my happiness.

Nothing could take away the pleasure I felt at that moment, as I walked through the corridors of the Faculty of Arts and Philosophy after attending the most incredible lecture of my life.

Nothing could erase the pride I felt in my heart as I told myself that I was a student at NYU.

I smiled reveling in those feelings, savouring every moment and my new life that represented everything I had ever wanted.

"Scarlett!" I heard two ringing voices calling me.

I gasped and looked around.

There were students everywhere and I was still struggling to recognise people.

It took me a while, but soon I recognised Ryanna and Brenda. This time they were not alone. Surrounding them was a group of beautiful boys who were turning the heads of everyone they met.

I sighed uncomfortably. I would never get used to the fame of my two friends and their entourage. Everything revolved around them and... me. Yeah, I too was part of the elite, as Ryanna called it.

I stopped and tried to remain motionless under the hungry gaze of our admirers who were greeting me and squaring me from head to toe in search of the perfection I felt did not belong to me.

I was about to deflect from that small crowd when something caught my attention.

I felt an electric shock go through my back and explode in my chest, causing my heartbeat to accelerate violently.

It was an unusual, almost eerie sensation that seemed to tell me to get out of there fast, but I was too confused and curious. As if guided by an external force, I focused on a specific spot in the crowd, which suddenly opened up, showing me what was hidden from my view. I gasped as my eyes rested on a boy so beautiful that he left me breathless.

He had black hair, slightly long and wavy, with a few unruly wisps falling over his sapphire blue eyes so clear that they reminded me of the clear water of mountain streams.

I stared at him spellbound for a long time. His pronounced jawline, his fleshy mouth curved into a seductive but deceptive smile, his straight, aristocratic nose, his olive skin perfectly shaved...

He was tall, muscular, and the tight shirt highlighted his perfect body along with dark, faded jeans.

Oh my God! Was there a hotter guy in the world?

No. Impossible.

Suddenly his eyes landed on me and something happened.

I don't know what, but the electric shock of a moment before became more intense, so much so that it burnt my skin, and the closer that boy got, the more I felt my stomach contract and my gaze become imprisoned in his.

I tried to breathe to calm that strange feeling, but I couldn't. It was as if the oxygen around me had been siphoned away by his presence.

Then, suddenly, something changed. The skin of the boy's face and bare forearms took on an opalescent, pearly hue.

The eyes also changed colour. Purple and lilac flecks mottled the blue irises and the pupils abruptly contracted, thinning like a cat's. What the hell was going on? Who was that guy? Or rather, what was he? Frightened by that vision, I looked around and saw my friends continuing to laugh and chatter light-heartedly around us. It was as if what I was looking at existed only in my head. Terrified by my hallucination, I tried blinking several times and rubbing my eyes. When I returned my gaze to the boy, I found him only inches from my face. He had approached so quickly and silently that I had not noticed him. I stepped back in fear, but suddenly my shoulders slammed against the corridor wall. He followed me until his shoes collided with mine as he stretched his right arm over my shoulder. I almost screamed when I felt the boy's fist against the wall near my face. Shaken by that proximity and the danger I felt looming, I swerved to the right, but found my escape route blocked by his other hand. I wanted to shout, to send him away, to ask him who he was and what he wanted, but I could not utter a single sound.

I closed my eyes and tried to regain a shred of lucidity, but suddenly I felt the boy's warm breath on my neck.

As soon as his nose brushed my throat up to my ear, I stiffened suddenly.

"When you toyed with me, perhaps you forgot that I could kill you at any moment," he whispered in a deep voice, hoarse and so threatening that I feared for my life.

"I... I didn't do anything," I stammered with difficulty, pushing him away, but as soon as I placed my hands on his chest, his pupils suddenly dilated and his predatory gaze became even more fierce.

"Please don't kill me," I whispered in a hushed voice, panicked. I didn't understand what made the boy suddenly turn away, staring at me in shock as his eyes turned blue again, but as soon as I found an opening, I took the chance and ran. I ran as far away as I could. Away from that hallucination. Away from that feeling of having really risked my life.

Away from that little voice inside me telling me that my dream would soon turn into a nightmare.

PART ONE

Cape Ann

1

Three years earlier

"Dad, did you order a tourist guide to New York?", I asked, pulling the book out of the box that had just arrived.

"Mrs Peters asked me for it. Apparently, she wants to go on holiday to New York with her cousin and asked me to get her a guidebook that can help her juggle hotels, restaurants and museums."

"She could just go online or use Google Maps."

"Hailey, the woman is seventy-five years old and can't even turn on a computer. We have people like her to thank if this bookstore hasn't gone out of business already." I sighed and walked towards the checkout counter, where there was a compartment reserved for all the books ordered. I was about to stick a post-it note on the book with the customer's name, when my mobile phone rang.

I took it out of the pocket of my jeans. It was my mother.

"Guess what just came home?" she exclaimed cheerfully.

"The brush set you ordered?"

"No. It's for you."

"For me? You know I never order anything online," I reminded her.

After the economic disaster caused by the advent of online and franchised bookshops to my family's, I had decided that I would always help the small independent trader, buying only from shops and shops in my town.

"It's a letter, not a parcel."

"A letter?!" I never received anything by mail.

"Yes, it even has the sender written on the envelope. Guess where it came from?"

I looked at the book I still held in my hand. "New York?"

"That's right! My magical daughter never disappoints me!" my mother exclaimed excitedly. I blushed, for that strange magical power of mine that made me find answers in the words I read was something I still struggled to accept, since it was beyond the logic I clung to in order to make sense of everything that surrounded me or happened. Instead, my mother was the classic woman who lived in the present, enjoyed the little things and took everything for what it was, without asking herself a thousand questions or paranoia, like yours truly.

We were very different but we loved each other immensely.

There were no secrets between us and, despite her part-time job as a clerk and her hobby of painting, she always found time for me and had a kind or comforting word for everyone. My father was also great, although less outgoing and vivacious than my mother. He lived for his bookshop, which he had inherited from my grandparents and kept up despite the crisis, because his greatest wish was that one day that business would pass to me. I could hardly wait! Thanks to my father, I had spent half my life immersed in books, as I was often with him when I left school.

Books were my first love and that bookshop was my world. My mother was happy for me, but she often complained, saying that she would have preferred to see me in the company of some friend or a boyfriend, instead of finding me always with my eyes glued to a book. Only my father understood me. He and I were very much alike. So much so that I had never really believed I was adopted. I felt I had a unique and special bond with my family. I would never have wanted to change it for anything in the world. That is why it had never occurred to me to look for my biological parents. In fact, in my heart, I thanked them because, by abandoning me, they had given me the best family one could wish for.

"Do you know a Scarlett Leclerc?" my mother asked, bringing me back to reality.

"No."

"Not even if you use magic?"

"Wait," I huffed, picking up a random book in the mystery section. I closed my eyes and opened the volume to a random page. Then, with the forefinger of my right hand, I touched the paper. I opened my eyes and read the word I had indicated with my finger.

Sister.

I gasped in fright. I used that strange magic, as my mother called it, on rare occasions because it made me feel strange and uncomfortable. As a child it had been just a fun way to learn to read, but in later years I had realised that there was something more powerful and disturbing in that gesture. Every time I touched a word with my eyes closed, I would then discover that the word suggested or indicated something I would have to face. It was never terrible or serious, but that magical connection always made me uncomfortable, because deep in my heart I felt it was a legacy left by my biological parents and that repulsed me. And now that word, sister.

It was as if fate was telling me that soon my life would change and I would risk losing the love of my adoptive family.

"So?" my mother, who was still waiting for an answer, urged me. I picked up another book. I closed my eyes and pointed again at any page. I opened my eyes.

Sister.

Again?! Assailed by an unprecedented agitation, I took an essay on discoveries in astronomy. I closed my eyes again. I opened the book and placed my trembling index finger on a word. I opened my eyes. I had pointed to 'the paradox of twins' and my finger almost covered the word twins. I violently closed the book, as if I wanted to erase that word.

"Hailey, are you there?"

"I... Yes..."

"Do you know who Scarlett Leclerc of New York is?"

"No," I gasped with my heart pounding like crazy in my chest.

"What a shame! Can I open the letter?"

"No!", I startled. "I actually know who Scarlett is. She's a girl I had started a correspondence with from school. You know, those cross-cultural exchanges...", I made it up feeling one step away from fainting. The idea that my mother could find out Scarlett's identity terrified me, because I knew it would destroy her. She was a cheerful woman and I had never seen her cry in my life, except once. I was seven years old and it was night. I had woken up to go to the bathroom and had walked past my parents' room. They were talking and my mother was crying.

"What if they take her away from us?"

"Hailey is our daughter. No one can take her away from us," my father had reassured her, hugging her. I didn't stand by and watch. I had walked into my parents' room and confronted them. It had been that day that I had found out I was adopted and had sworn that nothing would change between us. Biological or not, Alex and Helena Evans would be my true and only parents forever.

2

When I arrived home, the weather had changed.

The sun was completely gone and there were rain-laden clouds covering the entire sky.

"Mum?" I called, walking towards the kitchen.

I couldn't find her, but I saw a colourful note attached to the fridge along with a letter.

The fridge is empty. I'm going to buy something for tonight. Mum," it said on the post-it.

I sighed in surrender. She had been complaining about having to go shopping since that morning, but then she would lock herself in her studio to paint and forget about it.

With a knot in my throat, I picked up the white letter on which my name appeared, written in block letters and with little hearts instead of dots on the i's. I hated block letters. I loved cursive and liked to discover people's personalities through their handwriting.

As soon as I touched the letter, a violent thunderstorm broke out and made me jump.

I opened the letter and was almost blinded by the lightning that fell outside the kitchen window.

Frightened, I ran to my room where I curled up on the bed overflowing with books and notes.

Although the summer holidays had just begun, I had already started studying and doing my homework, getting ahead of the next year's curriculum. I had the highest average in my class and intended to maintain it until graduation.

As I began to read the letter, I realised I was shaking, and not just because of the deafening thunder that shook me to my soul.

"Dear Hailey,

I am writing this letter to you without knowing if you are really called by this name and if this letter will ever reach you. I know I may sound crazy, but I've been looking for you for a long time and the letters in the Learn the Alphabet game have brought me to you. OK, I realise I might sound like a nutter right now, but I'm not and please read on.

My name is Scarlett Leclerc and I am your sister. I was born on the 3rd of September fifteen years ago. I only learned of your existence after the death of our grandmother. Putting her things away, I found an old diary in which she said I had a sister who had been adopted and taken away from me to 'avoid catastrophe'. I mentioned this to our mother and she pleaded with me not to look for you and assured me that you were fine. I asked her how she knew and she told me that she visits you every year but never reveals her identity. However, I cannot forgive her for hiding something so important from me. If there's one thing I hate it's secrets and so I started to investigate. I've been looking for a way to contact you for months, but each time something bad happens that forces me to stop searching. I'm sure it's that witch mother of ours, even though Grandma's diary had already warned me about catastrophes. On that note, I advise you never to search for me online or on Facebook if you don't want to blow up your computer or burn your mobile phone. I have changed four smartphones this year. The mailed letter is my last attempt and I hope it doesn't end up incinerated somewhere. Here in New York, when I mailed it, I almost got struck by lightning. I realise I'm jeopardising our lives, but I need to find out who you are and let you know that I've always felt I had a sister. I used to dream about you a lot as a child. Besides, we are almost sixteen now, our magical powers are starting to grow and I feel lonely. I need someone with whom I can share what I'm going through or who doesn't mistake me for a nutcase if I randomly pick up a handful of letters of the alphabet and manage to compose a word that leads me to the answer I'm looking for. I don't know if it has ever happened to you too to read words or letters and find an answer or to be able to make objects vibrate with your thoughts. In her diary, Grandma spoke of an incredible power that could only find strength in our union, but she added that, because of something I didn't understand, we must remain separate. But I don't want to! You are my family! I never knew our father because he died before we were born. I don't want to not know you too. You're my sister and it's not fair that you've lived apart from me until now. Every day I wonder where you are, if you are well, what you are doing, what flavour of ice cream you prefer or if you are allergic to anything... I feel lost and anxious because each time I feel the bond between us grow, but I can never reach the other end of the line. I just want to get to know you, to let you know that I exist and that I am suffering from this lack that your absence causes me. I hope it is the same for you and, if so, I ask you to meet me. On our birthday I will be in Gloucester. If this letter has reached you and you are the sister I am so desperately looking for, I ask that we meet on 3 September at 4pm in front of the Fisherman's Memorial Monument. In the hope of seeing you or hearing from you soon (lightning permitting),

I give you a big hug.

Your sister Scarlett

PS: In the envelope I also put a picture of me and Mom. I looked for you on the internet, but as soon as you appeared on the screen the computer jumped and I couldn't get a good look at you, but if my eyesight doesn't deceive me, we really are two peas in a pod, just like in my dreams."

When I finished the letter I realised I was trembling and, as soon as I laid my eyes on the small photo that had been stuck to the bottom of the letter, I burst into tears. "I have a sister," I murmured in a broken voice, stroking the girl photographed under the Christmas tree in front of New York's Rockefeller Center. She looked exactly like me.

Same light brown hair, wavy at the ends. Same hazel eyes with a slightly elongated cut and thick dark lashes. Same heart-shaped face with pronounced cheekbones. Same midget height.

The only differences were that she did not wear glasses and her look was much more sophisticated and refined than mine. Then I shifted my gaze and saw a woman who was a photocopy of Scarlett but in her forties. My mother! Scarlett had written that she had been looking for me and I now knew it was true. I had seen that woman before. She had come to the bookstore a few months earlier to buy a book for her daughter. She had told me she was the same age as me but hated reading and had asked me for some advice. She had been very kind and sweet to me, but I had been struck by the sad look on her face. I remembered that I had had the impression that I had seen her before, but I told myself that maybe I was just being paranoid. However, I knew now that this was not true. That woman was my mother and she had come looking for me. We had spent an hour talking about my favourite books. I recalled that she had also asked me questions about my parents and I had replied that they were great, even though they blamed me for my solitary life, always immersed in books. She had smiled and told me that I was a special girl. The thought that she knew she was talking to her daughter, while I was convinced I was simply selling a book to a customer, made me feel sick. Why seek me out? Had she regretted abandoning me? Why had she only given up on me and not my sister? Why me? Why not reveal who she was? I looked behind the photo. "Scarlett and Sophie Leclerc," it said. Nothing else. My mind was full of questions but a deafening thunderclap jolted me and, before I knew it, a strong gust of wind blew my bedroom window violently open. I felt a strangely icy air hit me full in the face and an invisible force stole the photograph from my hands. I jumped up, but the snapshot flew out of the window before I could get it back. I reached out, but a bolt of lightning fell just a few metres from me, striking the photo, which was completely blackened and then disintegrated into a thousand pieces blown away by the wind. I hurriedly closed the window and ran to protect the letter before another bolt of lightning struck. It was obvious that someone or something was doing everything to keep me away from my sister. It was at that moment that I definitely realised that there was something magical inside me, something that, if I understood correctly, I had inherited from my family and had been handed down from generation to generation.

However, at the same time I was frightened, for I realised that within that magic lay something dark and dangerous, something that even the natural elements of the earth opposed.

I laughed, realising that if I had read my grandmother's diary that spoke of catastrophes, I would never have gone in search of my sister. I was not brave enough to challenge... what? Magic? Because that really was magic! Like the kind Scarlett talked about when she mentioned the messages she found in the words and letters of the game. The same gift I had. The only difference was that I didn't vibrate a damn thing. I reread the letter a dozen times. It moved me to know that somewhere in the world there was someone who didn't know me, but who missed me. Unlike Scarlett, I had never dreamt of her and had never thought of having a twin. I had always been proud and happy to be an only child, as I did not like to share my space and books with others. But now things were changing.

3

Two months had passed since that letter.

Two months in which I had made my parents' lives hell.

I had not told anyone about my sister, but I had tried to phone her with the number she had left me in the letter. In doing so, I had destroyed my mobile phone, which, when I started the call, had switched off with a puff and then never switched on again. Determined not to repeat the mistake, I had tried again with the house phone, but I had blown the power and my father had had to call the electrician.

Same thing when I had tried Scarlett with the computer.

Within eight weeks, a good portion of my parents' savings had evaporated into fuses to get the electrical system going again and a new computer.

Scarlett was right. Something was preventing us from connecting.

In the end I too opted for a letter, but a powerful thunderstorm thwarted my efforts and the letter was destroyed.

All that remained was for me to show up at the appointment.

As much as I had tried to remain impassive in front of my parents, they had noticed how upset I was, but I managed to keep my meeting a secret.

Besides, I had sensed Scarlett's arrival at Cape Ann. It had been pouring rain for two days and as soon as I left the house, a thunderstorm broke out.

By now I had become sensitive to changes in the weather.

By the time I set out for my appointment, hidden in a big blue mackintosh, my heart was pounding like crazy.

I arrived in front of the Fisherman's Memorial Monument a quarter of an hour early.

The streets were empty because of the downpour, but in front of the statue was a woman wrapped in a light white mackintosh and holding an umbrella that she was trying to hold in place despite the increasing gusts of wind.

I approached slowly and when I saw my mother's face, I jumped.

She did not look happy, but as soon as her eyes rested on me, a wide smile filled her face. A smile that, however, did not erase that veil of sadness in her gaze.

"Hello," I greeted her shyly. Now that I knew who she was, I felt too many conflicting emotions inside me to be able to speak or reason calmly.

"Hailey," she whispered, as a lone tear streaked down her face. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, but I was forced. I miss you every day, but I couldn't..."

"Why did you abandon me? Why me? Why didn't you tell me who you were when you came to the library?", I asked her suddenly, unable to control myself.

"There's so much you don't know."

"Like... magic?"

"Yes, that is our curse. Because of a curse, every woman in our family gives birth to twins. Two females who together have a devastating magical power, so strong and powerful that it leads to death. The only solution is to keep the sisters apart and not allow them to meet. This compromise has always been a source of unimaginable pain for our family. Your grandmother had to separate from her sister and then did the same with one of her daughters. I myself never knew my twin sister and when it was your turn, I had to give one of you up. I have never suffered so much in my life for that decision I had to make. And all because of a power I did not ask for and that could destroy the people I love."

"Why me? Why did you give up on me?"

"Because you were wonderful and sweet as a child. You were always smiling and never cried, while your sister was harder to handle. I gave you up because I knew you would be easily adopted and I used magic to attract the perfect family for you, the one that could give you everything I could never give to you - love."

"Thank you," I murmured touched, before losing myself in her embrace.

I tried to hold myself back, but finally gave in and burst into tears.

Through that contact I could feel her affection for me but also her pain, as if they belonged to me.

When we parted, I wiped my face and tried to give her a smile.

I felt the need to let her know I was okay and that I had forgiven her.

"Where's Scarlett?", I asked when we recovered, as we walked towards the harbour.

"You and your sister need to understand that you can't be together. I know she seeks you out and wants you in her life, but that is not possible."

"There must be a way."

"There was, but it was denied us many centuries ago. Today the only thing we can do is to meet the other sister in a protected and sacred place."

"Where?"

"On an island."

"Why an island?"

"Because the storm and tempest follow you, and as you get closer they will become more and more violent."

"Where is this island?"

"Wherever you want it. You are young now, but with the years you will learn to call her to you in case of need."

"I only know how to find words in books."

"That is a gift we all have, but each generation has its own element. Mine is that of water. When I tried to look for my sister I caused floods and flooding. Today I can control my power, but it is weak because of the missing part that my twin possesses. You and Scarlett, on the other hand, attract lightning. In time you will learn to manage this power, however as you learn, it will weaken."

"Shouldn't it grow stronger?"

"Not any more. In the past, women in our family misused their powers and we were punished for it."

"By whom?"

"By those who control the world of magic."

"A world?"

"A parallel dimension controlled by the Guardians. By now that door is closed, but the magic encased in our blood has remained and this has caused disasters and deaths, so much so that it has caused the Guardians to deprive us of certain freedoms and separate us."

"Have you tried talking to them?"

"Have you gone mad? The Leclerc family's first rule is precisely to remain hidden from the Guardians. They can have total control over our lives and it is not our intention to let them have it. Therefore, we are forbidden to practice magic outside the house or the magic circle."

"Magic circle?"

"Yes, that is what you will find engraved in the stone in the centre of the island. Only in that place will it be possible for you to meet your sister without risking death or attracting the attention of a Guardian."

My head was confused, but when I saw my mother get into a boat, I froze.

"The sea is too rough to sail," I worried.

"Not if I'm steering the rudder. Don't forget that water is my element."

Determined to trust her, I climbed aboard.

My mother set off immediately towards Babson Ledge.

Around us the waves were high and choppy, but ahead it was like a flat calm. It felt like sailing into a separate channel.

To my surprise, my mother veered to the left and passed the small islet.

"Look, after Babson Ledge there is nothing else."

"There is. It's Leclerc Island, but I call it Neverland like Peter Pan's. She appears when you call her. Look," she explained, pointing to a spot in front of us, slightly hidden by the incessant rain.

I squinted my eyes and finally saw a tiny promontory with high, rocky walls.

As we got closer, I noticed how the coastline was always very high, overhanging the sea. All around the perimeter, the cliff rose for dozens of metres, making mooring impossible.

At the highest point, a large oak tree could be seen silhouetted like a lighthouse on that peak, its branches stretching for metres even over the precipice, its thick, gnarled trunk firmly planted on the rock.

My mother sailed towards the opposite side, where the jagged coastline dropped slightly, zigzagging between stacks covered with small blue stones that shone and lit up the sea like small coloured neon lights, and stone arches that gave the island a surreal atmosphere.

After several minutes of calm sailing, we arrived at a small indentation leading to a cave half-hidden by vegetation.

The entrance was low and we had to stoop to enter.

Inside it was quite dark and that darkness made me feel uncomfortable.

I hated dark, windowless places.

With a torch, my mother illuminated the cavern.

We moved forward and I noticed that the ceiling rose as we continued. It was covered with transparent stalactites with a blue hue. They looked like ice formations, but the temperature was too high and the water was lukewarm.

"My journey ends here. You'll have to continue on your own now," my mother told me, mooring the boat next to a staircase carved into the limestone that on one side continued underwater, while upwards it led to a tunnel lit by the same gems I had seen on the stacks.

"Go up these stairs. At the bottom you will find a door. Open it and start running as fast as you can."

"Why?" I panted.

"To avoid the lightning that will try to stop you from continuing. Ahead of you will be a meadow that will seem to have no end, but you run with your eyes always pointed ahead, towards the one tree you will see in the distance. You must reach the magic circle. Only there will you be safe."

4

A hundred steps, my mother had said, but fifty was enough for me to have an attack of claustrophobia.

The further I went, the more the darkness crushed and suffocated me.

The small blue gems embedded in the uneven walls gave me some relief, but the shadows my torch produced on the walls made me restless and anxious.

Not to mention the earthy, damp smell and the tomb-like silence.

All I could hear was my laboured breathing from exertion and fear. I seemed almost asthmatic and my not-so-active life was giving me the cold shoulder, making the air burn in my lungs already contracted by tension.

I prayed to reach that damned door as soon as possible and get out of there.

I had a spasmodic need for light, sky and fresh air.

When I reached the last step, I was trembling, sweating and out of breath.

I did not even pause to look at the small clearing on which the exit stood.

All I heard was my shoes crunching on the stone floor, while the weak, thin beam of light from the torch showed me a thick handle of antiqued silver standing out against the ebony wood of the door.

Relieved and exhausted, I hurried and stretched out my hand, but as soon as it rested on the handle, something black moved towards me.

I was just in time to see a black snake with two sapphires for eyes biting my wrist.

I felt its teeth penetrate my skin.

I screamed in pain and fear.

Due to the shock, the torch slipped out of my hand, but suddenly I saw small fires burning above the twelve ceramic amphoras that surrounded the room.

That warmth and light allowed me to regain a modicum of lucidity.

I checked my right wrist and found two blue holes that were slowly coming together, creating a sort of blue snake tattoo.

"What the hell?", I was about to say, but then my gaze shifted to the door and the words died in my throat.

In front of me, dozens of two-metre-long black snakes were slithering sinuously along the door, towards the outside, slithering over each other until they separated and unlocked the door, which finally opened.

I approached cautiously and noticed that those animals had stopped and were staring at me.

They looked like wooden sculptures, motionless and perfectly chiselled in ebony.

I tried to touch one of them, suppressing a shudder.

With astonishment, I noticed that they were as hard as stone and lifeless.

Yet the bite I had on my wrist told me something else, even though I felt fine. I felt no more pain and a part of me told me that I was not dying.

Slowly I lowered the handle and finally a huge, well-kept, bright green meadow appeared before me. Above it, all hell was breaking loose in the sky.

I looked up and saw the oak tree I had noticed from the boat.

Aiming at the tree, I set off at a determined pace in that direction, but suddenly lightning fell a few metres away from me.

I remembered my mother's words: "Start running as fast as you can," so I obeyed.

Never before had I realised how it was not enough to merely read dozens of books on running and physical performance to become an athlete.

"I promise that if I survive, I will take up sport," I said to myself, zigzagging as fast as I could between lightning and clusters of eerily shaped thunderbolts.

I found myself climbing a small hill, then descending back down, and when I looked down on the valley, I noticed a stone square in the middle. A gigantic circular block of blue labradorite at least two hundred metres in diameter.

It looked smooth, even if its iridescent, multicoloured reflections gave it a dynamic effect, as if it were a moving, swaying platform like the surface of the sea.

What left me most fascinated were the black cracks that formed a circle around the perimeter and a star in the centre with the five points touching the outer pattern.

In the centre of that square was Scarlett.

It was as if my gaze was attracting hers because, suddenly, she started running towards the boundary and calling me loudly, telling me to be careful.

I knew she couldn't get out of the circle or we'd both be dead, so I accelerated my run until I ended up directly in her arms and we fell to the ground together.

As soon as our bodies collided, a white light flashed from the cracks on the labradorite and the storm ceased, leaving the island in surreal silence.

"You did it!" my sister shouted, hugging me tightly and bursting into tears. "I finally found you!"

"Yes, I'm here," I whispered softly, stroking her hair.

"You don't know what I went through to make it this far!"

"A stormy sea?"

"Worse!"

"A flurry of lightning determined to kill you?"

"Worse!"

"A claustrophobic, endless staircase?"

"Worse!"

"Eh, no! Worse than that hellish staircase is nothing!"

"You wouldn't talk like that if you'd been bitten by a snake!" she sobbed even louder, showing me the blue tattoo on her right wrist, matching mine.

"You're wrong," I tried to comfort her, showing her the same mark on her arm.

Finally Scarlett composed herself. "And you didn't die of fright?"

"I like animals."

"Snakes aren't animals."

"Then what are they?"

"Monsters!"

Finally the tension from all we had been through disappeared and we burst out laughing.

This was not how I had imagined starting my first face-to-face conversation with my sister, but she treated me as if she had known me forever and I let myself be carried away by her charisma and by her emotionalism.

We sat in the middle of the stone square, one in front of the other.

Scarlett took me by the hand and from that contact a white and blue light spread, which joined the ever more intense light coming out of the designs engraved on the labradorite.

That light gave us a comfort and peace we had never felt before and our rain-soaked clothes dried in seconds.

"We are just the same," my sister murmured in a moving whisper, playing with a lock of my hair.

I nodded. What I was experiencing was so incredible that I couldn't find the words to express what I was feeling.

Fortunately, Scarlett was much more vivacious than me and immediately began a monologue about her own life. I was enchanted by her voice that had French, British and New York accents, but above all by her tone so similar to mine.

She told me about her world travels, about our French origins, about her friends Ryanna and Brenda with whom she spent her free time shopping and going to the cinema, about the three boys she was in love with and kept on holding on to because she couldn't decide on one, about her hatred for school and books and how this led her to fight almost every day with our mother, who was a professor at New York University.

A little confrontation was inevitable when I confessed to her that I, on the other hand, lived immersed in books and had no friends or boyfriends.

"Our mother gave away the wrong daughter," Scarlett huffed enviously, when I told her about my mother, a painter who urged me to have fun instead of burying myself in novels.

Finally the talk fell to more serious topics, like the death of Grandma Cecile and her secret diary.

"I want you to keep it, so you can have a look at it," Scarlett said, handing me a crumpled notebook with a hard cover lined in blue fabric.

'You'll find a lot of information about our family in here. I finished reading it last night and cursed myself for my laziness in reading. If I had read the whole thing earlier, I would have avoided the risk of electrocuting myself a couple of times. At the end of the book, it talks about the Leclerc generation attracting lightning. She says that to communicate it is always good to include a piece of electrocution in the letters. I took a piece of it while I was waiting for you. Just slip a small fragment into the envelope and you can be sure that the letter will reach me,' she explained, placing a white and grey glassy mass of thunderbolt in my hand.

"Just in case, always keep a piece of pholgorite with you. That way we won't risk being struck by lightning or who knows what else our magic is capable of producing."

"Thank you."

I would have liked our chat to continue further, but the sound of a sea shell made us wake up again.

"'That's our mother. She is warning us that our time together is up."

"Already?", I muttered distraught. Now that I had met my sister, I didn't want to part with her anymore.

"Promise me you'll write and you won't forget me," Scarlett pleaded, bursting into tears and hugging me tightly.

"I promise."

Sadly, a second warning sound came and Scarlett pulled away.

"I'll go first, so you can visit the island without risking being electrocuted. Once I'm beyond the stacks, the sky will clear and you can discover your heritage."

"My heritage?"

"Yes. This island is also yours. The serpent's venom was the key to access. Now that the mark is on our right wrist, there will be no more problems and you can call the island whenever you want," she said, pointing to our tattoos.

We hugged once more.

Then Scarlett left and the light coming through the cracks in the labradorite went out.

I was left alone.

I lay on the ground and noticed the sky clearing.

Curious and determined to enjoy the island that was now mine too, I started walking along the meadow that covered the headland. Here and there were sandbars from which thunderbolts were peeping out.

I walked for a long time and when I reached the oak tree on the opposite side I was out of breath.

Fascinated by that thick, sturdy trunk, I stroked the bark and noticed several names engraved on it.

I did not know who they belonged to, but I was certain that they were all the women of my family who had come there before me.

I was about to turn back when I saw the imprint of a hand carved on the wood.

I placed my hand on the drawing and suddenly the roots of the tree rose up and parted, revealing a pit in the middle. I shone my torch, but it was dark. I only saw some stairs descending underground to the centre of the island.

I almost felt like crying at the idea of ending up in a dark, windowless place again.

Then I thought back to the tunnel I had walked through to get there and which I would now have to go through again to get back. I screamed out in frustration and fear that, as I already knew, would cloud my mind until I got out of there.

Just then, I heard the sound of a conch shell and realised that my mother was waiting for me.

I started to run and when I reached the door, I took a deep breath.

I greeted the snakes that were crawling on the wood to seal the entrance and I thought I saw them nod their heads in greeting.

Then I started counting from one hundred to one, hoping to reach the other side soon.

When I reached the boat I was again frazzled with tension and sweating.

'Please tell me it wasn't a nightmare for you too having to be bitten by that snake. Scarlett just blasted me with scolding and insults the whole trip."

"No, don't worry," I merely said, though in my heart I wanted to vent about that claustrophobic tunnel.

"I would have told you that access to the island required proof of your origins with a drop of blood, but I know how afraid Scarlett is of snakes and I didn't want to alert you with the risk of you messing up."

"I'm not afraid of snakes, just enclosed, stuffy spaces."

"I'm sorry. Whoever created that ladder to access the island must not have had this problem."

"Apparently not."

"I heard you were top of the class," my mother tried to change the subject.

"Yes."

"I'm proud of you! I wish Scarlett felt even a tenth of the love you have for studying and books."

"And you, on the other hand, are a professor at NYU."

"Yes, I was offered the history professorship last year. That's why we came to the US."

"Congratulations! That university has always been my first choice, for when I have to choose a college to study at," I confessed.

"Then you could be my student in a year," my mother exclaimed happily, but soon her smile faded.

At the harbour were my parents together with the coast guard waiting for us.

5

While my mother fixed the boat and faced the wrath of the coast guard for sailing in stormy seas, I ran to my parents.

As I approached, I saw the red, swollen, weeping eyes of my adoptive mother, and my heart broke.

"Hailey!" my relieved father exclaimed in a voice broken with emotion as he held me tightly to him. "When they told us they saw you leave in the boat, I... we... Oh God! I don't want to think about it! We thought the worst."

"I'm sorry, but I assure you I was safe," I tried to console him, but to no avail.

I looked at my mother, Helena, and noticed that she hadn't come any closer.

It was strange. Usually she was the one with the hugs, but she was as if paralysed a couple of metres away from me and didn't seem to be able to move.

There was something in her gaze that startled me, as if something inside her had broken.

"Hey, I didn't mean to worry you. I'm sorry," I repeated, moving closer to her.

"Were you with her... with... with your mother?" she stammered in a voice steeped in sadness.

"No... I... Here...", I lied, not knowing what to say. After what I had just experienced, I still hadn't decided how to deal with that new situation.

"Don't lie to us. We know," my father interjected cautiously.

"Do you know her?"

"No, but we have met... your sister."

"What?!", I was alarmed.

"We thought it was you and stopped her, but she didn't recognise us and finally told us you were in Babson Ledge with your mother. That was a hard blow. Why didn't you tell us anything?"

"Where is she now?", I panted, clutching the electrocution in my hand and looking up at the ominous sky.

"She's gone and promised us that she will never be a part of your life here in Cape Ann. I'm sorry... Did things not work out between you?"

"Well, I... My life is here and she lives in New York, so we decided to write each other a few letters now and then. Nothing more."

"Scarlett Leclerc... that's her, isn't it?" my mother understood, even more upset than before.

"Yes, but you don't have to worry. I have you. You are my family..."

" You no longer need me. Now you've found your real mother and...", Helena tried to tell me, but then she burst into tears and I felt my heart break.

"I am not her mother," Sophie intervened, behind me. 'I am only the woman who gave birth to her. You are her family. I gave her up sixteen years ago and I could never change that fact, even if I wanted to."

My mother Helena was interjected and stared at my other mother Sophie for a long time.

"I only ask your permission to be able to phone your daughter from time to time, to find out how she is," she added shyly.

"You have just endangered our daughter's life!" my father altered, leaving me stunned. He never got angry.

"Not so, but I understand your point of view. I ask you to forgive me, but I would be lying if I told you that the next time will be different."

"There won't be a next time!"

"We'll talk about it at Hailey and Scarlett's next birthday, exactly one year from now," Sophie negotiated, calming the mood. Then she turned to me and gave me a wide smile.

"I am proud of the person you have become and, for the first time, I have not hated that part of me that I have refused to accept since I was born."

I knew she was referring to magic and I replied with a nod of assent.

I dared not hug her in front of my foster mother and she understood.

Before getting off the boat I had given her my mobile number and I knew we would be in touch soon. That was enough for me.

Sophie turned on her heel and left.

Left alone, I ran to hug my mother, Helena.

"How could I choose another mother when mine is such a pain in the ass and always smells of toxic paints!", I downplayed.

"Is that really what you want?" she asked with tears in her eyes.