Some of the texts were prophecies directly from Arabeth or one of her daughters, recorded long ago and translated through the ages by varying scribes. And some talked about the prophets from the other lines.
Always female. Always groundbreakers. People like the famous Greek poet Sappho and the awe-
inspiring heroine Saint Joan of Arc.
I had to own up to a certain amount of pride, knowing I hailed from such brave and noble beginnings.
Though they were both from different branches, we were all related in the end. At least, that’s how I saw it.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a lick of bravery or nobility.
With as much stealth as she could muster, Brooke slipped a note to me while keeping her attention focused on Granddad.
I unfolded it and read,
She wanted to come back to do some research, but I was pretty researched out. And I wanted to know what had happened to Jared.
I wrote,
We’d sneaked into the archive room several times over the past few weeks. It was like some kind of morbid curiosity took hold of me. I didn’t want anything to do with this war or the visions, yet I couldn’t help but read the prophecies every chance I got. I always hoped they would tell me what to do. How to fight. How to win. But after another fruitless search, I could only close the thick book I’d been trying to decipher with a huff of frustration. Prophecies were weird and boring. The translated texts said things like, “It will take the Last but a moment to undo all that which evil has done.” How the heck was that supposed to be helpful? The last what? Prophet? That’s what they called me, the last prophet of Arabeth.
Which did not bode well for any children I might have. Since the prophets were always female, I supposed if I did survive the war and did happen to have children someday, they would all be boys. So that was one question out of the way.
“… but a moment to undo all that which evil has done.”
If that prophecy was about me, it was nice to know it would take me only a moment to fix everything.
Not. I’d already tried snapping my fingers, to no avail. I’d even tried crossing my arms and blinking.
Wiggling my nose didn’t help either. Clearly magic was not part of my gift.
I felt the note slide under my fingers again.
At that exact moment, I realized something. None of the translated texts talked about the visions themselves. They recorded only what had been seen, not
I wrote back.
After Granddad’s sermon, Brooke and I hurried to the back of the church as Grandma and Granddad spoke to a few members of the congregation. They’d called a special meeting of the Order amidst hateful glares and resentful glances. And not just mine. Many in the congregation were angry with them for wanting to send me away. I still hadn’t talked to them about the conversation I’d overheard. I was curious how long it would take them to tell me themselves. Or were they just planning to truss me up and ship me off?
Cameron and Glitch were waiting at the back of the church and we rushed out before anyone could stop us. We were going to the forest. We were going to search for Jared.
We wound through the trees and over dips in Cameron’s tan pickup. The poor thing looked like it’d been used by war correspondents in the Middle East. It sported a nifty camper shell and several large rust-covered dents. We bounced and lunged until we came to a stop near the clearing. It looked so different in the daytime. I was surprised there wasn’t more debris. A few bottles and cans littered the ground, but nothing too significant. And a couple of fallen logs bordered the charred remains of the campfire.
“Okay,” Glitch said, zipping up his hoodie. “Where did you last see him?”
I turned full circle, trying to get my bearings.
“Over there,” Cameron said, pointing to a patch of trees just past the Clearing.
“That’s right,” I said. “He went through there.”
I was heading that way when Cameron said, “Wait.” He stopped and examined the ashes where the campfire had been.
“What?” Brooke asked, following him over.
“Do you smell that?”
Curiosity got the better of me. I went back and sniffed around. An acrid scent, sharp and tangy, assaulted me.
After taking a big whiff herself, Brooke coughed into her jacket sleeve. “What is that?”
“It’s like vinegar,” I said, crinkling my nose.
Cameron knelt beside the cremated remains for a closer look.
“Well?” Glitch asked, impatient.
Placing his icy gaze on him, Cameron said, “What’s wrong with this picture?”
Glitch took offense. “Oh, right, because I’m Native American, I automatically know everything about campfires.”
“I was thinking back to Boy Scouts, but that’ll work too.”
At the mention of Boy Scouts, Glitch hardened. His eyes glittered with anger as Cameron let a malicious grin slide across his face. He’d done it on purpose. Brooke and I glanced at each other, once again wondering what had happened that spring break years ago. Glitch went on a camping trip in the mountains with his Boy Scout troop. Something happened on that trip. Something bad. And I’d known that
Cameron was involved, but no one would ever tell me more, including Glitch. It was a constant source of curiosity. What could cause such animosity between them?
Cameron chuckled, giving up the game first, and said, “I just meant, most campfires don’t turn the wood blue.”
We all stepped forward to look. Sure enough, the charred wood had a blue tint to it, iridescent like a pearl.
“Wow,” Brooke said, bending to pick one up.
Cameron grabbed her arm. “I wouldn’t,” he said, pulling her away from it.
“What is it?”
“No idea. I just wouldn’t. And there’s blood.” He pointed to the side. “A lot of it.”
Startled, I rushed forward to examine the area myself. “Do you think it’s Jared’s?”
“No telling.”
“Well, let’s look over here,” I said, heading to where I’d last seen Jared.
Cameron stood and did a 180. “He’s not out here.”
I turned to argue, but realized if anyone would know, Cameron would. Disappointment ripped through me. “You’re sure?”
He nodded, eyeing the trees like they were about to attack. “I’m sure. And we need to go.”
“Why?” Brooke asked.
“You know how you were feeling fuzzy?” he asked her before walking over to me and grabbing on to my jacket.
“Yes.” She started to become wary, as did Glitch. They surveyed the surroundings too and started making their way back to the truck.
“Well, it’s even fuzzier out here.”
Just then, Cameron stopped and put an arm across my torso from behind. He squinted, peering into the forest.
“Is it Jared?” I asked in a hushed whisper.
He shook his head and stepped back, dragging me with him.
We were only a few yards from the truck when I asked, “Cameron, what?”
That’s when I saw a kid, a boy around thirteen. Partially obstructed by the trees, he wore a huge green army jacket that was about three sizes too big and a gray hoodie underneath that. It was hard to make out his
