"Don't be afraid to trust your abilities," he said, voice softening. "You're stronger than you think. Never forget how to live life fully and with courage, and never forget that I love you." Pierce drew the paper from his nose and set it in my lap. "It's signed 'Dad'."
I sniffed, smiling up at Pierce as I wiped my eyes. "Thank you."
"Little Firefly?" he questioned, trying to distract me from my heartache.
"It was the hair, I think," I said, bringing the paper to my nose and breathing deeply the faded scent of pipe smoke. "Thank you, Pierce," I said, giving his hand a soft squeeze. "I never would have found his note if it hadn't been for you."
The young man smiled, running a hand over my hair to push it out of my eyes. "It isn't anything I did a'purpose."
Maybe, I mused, smiling brokenly at him, the spell to bring my dad into existence had worked after all—the only way it could, his love bending the rules of nature and magic to bring me a message from beyond his grave. My dad was proud of me. He was proud of me and knew I could be strong. That was all I had ever wanted, and I took a gulp of air.
I was going to start crying again, and searching for a distraction, I turned to find my mom's gift. "My mom signed my application," I said, fumbling with the envelope beside me with a sudden resolve. "I'm going to do it. Pierce. My dad said to trust in my abilities, and I'm going to do it. I'm going to join the I.S."
But when II turned back to him with my signed application, he was gone.
My breath caught. Wide-eyed, I looked to the east to see the first flash of red-gold through the black branches. From across the city came the tolling of bells, celebrating the new day. The sun was up. He was gone.
"Pierce?" I said softly as the paper in my grip slowly drooped. Not believing it, I stared at where he had been. His footprints were still there, and I could still smell coal dust and shoe polish, but I was alone.
A gust of wind blew on the fire, and a wave of heat shifted my hair from my eyes. It was warm against me, comforting, like the touch of a hand against my cheek in farewell. He was gone, just like that.
I looked at my dad's watch and held it tight. I was going to get better. My stamina was going to improve. My mom believed in me. My dad did, too. Fingers shaking, I folded up the paper and snapped the watch shut around it, holding it tight until the metal warmed.
Taking a deep breath, I sent my gaze deep into the purity of the morning sky. The solstice was over, but everything else? Everything else was just beginning.
About the Author
Born and raised in Tornado Alley, New York Times bestselling author KIM HARRISON now resides in more sultry climates. She rolls a very good game of dice, hangs out with a guy in leather, and is hard at work on the next novel of the Hollows.
For more information, go to www.kimharrison.net.
Run, Run, Rudolph
Lynsay Sands
Chapter 1
"Beth?" Jill peered down the stairs that disappeared into darkness and frowned. She'd looked everywhere in the house for her errant niece before noticing the cracked-open door to the basement. Now she stood on the landing, biting her lip as she peered into the black pit and wondered if her niece could possibly be down there.
Her brother, Kyle, had obviously forgotten to lock the door. That was unusual. With all the experimental equipment—including the molecular destabilizer—he housed in the basement, he was fanatical about locking it. However, it wasn't locked now.
Surely a toddler wouldn't go down into the dark on her own, though?
A faint rustle from the stillness below answered the question. Beth was definitely down there. And shouldn't be. She could get hurt.
Flipping on the light, she started down, calling, "Beth? Honey? You aren't supposed to be down here. Come to Aunt Jill. Your breakfast is ready."
Pausing on the bottom step, Jill waited for some sound to give away the girl's location, but there was nothing. Her gaze slid around the room, skating over gleaming metal surfaces and glass-fronted cupboards containing all sorts of scientific-type paraphernalia. She'd never been down here before, but it looked just like she'd imagined, like every lab she'd ever seen when she visited her brother at work.
A faint scraping sound drew her gaze to the far corner of the room and Jill peered toward the large glass chamber that took up the end of the basement. It held the molecular destabilizer Kyle had spent so much of the last five years rebuilding… And the door into the small glass room was open.
Alarm rising in her, Jill hurried toward the open door. "Beth? Enough. You aren't supposed to be down here. Your mommy and daddy will be mad," she said firmly. When she reached the door without receiving an answer, she added pleadingly, "Come out, honey. Your breakfast is ready."
The only answer was another rustle, this time from behind the machine. Breathing out a sigh, Jill approached the front of the destabilizer. It was huge, stretching from one wall to the other. There was no room to slip between the machine and the wall to peer behind it. That left crawling under the table set up below the telescope-like apparatus that the beam shot from. At least Jill thought it probably came from there. She was no scientist, but didn't see anywhere else it could come from.
She eyed the crawl space under the table, unhappy at the prospect of crawling under it but seeing no alternative. She had to get Beth back upstairs.
Cursing Kyle for carelessly leaving the door unlocked, Jill started to climb under the table, pausing when she bumped it and it shifted slightly. Noting it was on wheels and could move in and out, she straightened and wheeled the table out of the way to make more room, then crawled into the space to peer behind the machine.
"Beth," she said with relief. The child was sitting in the narrow space between the machine and the back wall. Spying Jill, she giggled and clapped her hands with glee. It was a grand game to the tot.
Jill was less entertained. She was very aware that she was now kneeling directly under the destabilizer beam, exactly where Beth's mother, Claire, had been when a crazy co-worker, determined to try the molecular destabilizer on humans, had zapped her. Claire had survived the exposure to the destabilizer, as had Kyle when he'd run into the beam to pull her out, but now the two of them were different. They could both shift their shapes, taking on the facial features and body shape of others. A cool trick to be sure, and one Jill had first thought she might like herself, but that was before she'd heard Kyle's fears. The destabilizer had done what it was meant to, made their molecules unstable and changeable, but they weren't sure how unstable and feared the possibility of the cells collapsing, leaving them to die in a puddle of human slime, or worse yet, not die, but be alive and aware as a puddle of human slime. That possibility was enough to kill any desire to be zapped.
That thought in mind, Jill started to lift her head to glance nervously toward the beam, but instead cried out as pain shot through her skull and everything went black.
Jill moaned and slowly opened her eyes. At first she didn't know where she was. She stared at the dim bulb overhead, then blinked and lowered her gaze as she felt a soft patting on her cheek.
"Beth," she whispered. The child was seated on the floor beside her, patting her cheek, a worried look on her little face.
Jill offered her a reassuring smile and then sat up, her gaze sliding around the glass chamber as she tried to sort out what had happened. She recalled coming down in search of Beth, crawling under the machine, and then lifting her head and bang, unbearable pain had hit her. Obviously she'd slammed her head into the telescope thing and knocked herself out. Brilliant. She always had been the clumsy one in the family.