Wispling By Kathryn Fredy

Prologue – Brooksway, New York

The early morning sky was dark and cloudy, the same as it had been all night. Off in the distance, a storm was brewing. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a clap of thunder that would have been heard across the entire state. No one in the houses lining the streets of Brooksway heard it, though; they were all asleep. But deep in the clutches of the night, in one little house in the middle of the city, a light glowed brightly through the window.

Someone was awake.

~ { : } ~

Amara stared out the window onto the street below. She was thinking and waiting for someone to arrive. Someone she hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

Finally, she heard footsteps sounding on the steps up to her room. The door swung open, and a young woman stood in the open doorway.

“What are you doing up here, Mara?” The woman asked, calling Amara by her nickname, “You only come up here when you’re feeling bothered by something. What’s wrong?”

Amara sighed. “After thirty years, you’re still not acting well enough to fool me,” she answered, shaking her head, “Besides, this is not the time for practice.”

The woman sighed and began to change. Her hair shortened, and changed color, her face rounded, and she grew just the slightest bit bigger. Soon, a man that looked the same age as Mara was standing right where the young woman had been.

“You’re serious about this, then,” the man said, frowning sadly.

“I’ve always been serious about it,” Mara replied, turning around to face him, “They’ll need protection from the ones we weren’t able to stop. You know that, Caden.”

“But what if they find you?” Caden asked, worriedly, “What happens then? You can’t possibly hide from them for that long!”

“I can handle them,” Amara answered, comfortingly. “Time is always on my side. And I will use it as well as I can.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I have to, C,” Amara said, sadly. “But before I do, take this.” She held out a small, blue orb, tied to a golden thread, which shimmered in the lamplight. “It will tell you anything you want to know, as long as I am alive. And if you ever wish to contact me . . . well, I have the other end.” She held hers up.

“Then I guess this is goodbye?” Caden asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“You always were a good guesser,” Amara said, her eyes welling up with tears. She placed her hand on his shoulder. He hugged her tightly, and she hugged him back.

And the sun began to rise . . .

 

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