Mystical (Mystical #1) (Revising)

Chapter Nineteen ☆

As the car dwindled into the distance, a voice pulled her attention away from the scene. It was Miss Canary, holding a flower pot, her presence as enigmatic as ever. Eliza turned towards her, frustration and curiosity warring on her features.

"Grace has certainly undergone some changes," Miss Canary mused with a knowing smile.

Eliza's eyebrows furrowed. "What changes? What are you talking about?"

Miss Canary's reply came in the form of actions rather than words. With a graceful flourish, she placed the flower pot on the ground and fetched a shovel. Eliza watched as she traced a perfect circle in the earth, a tranquil rhythm to her movements.

"Some things, my dear, are best left untouched," Miss Canary said, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. With each scoop of soil, she buried the pot, leaving Eliza to wonder about the hidden meanings behind her actions.

"I knew you'd come today, and I know you're aware of my kind," Miss Canary stated, her tone holding a mix of understanding and intrigue. "The thing about mystics is that there are both pure and corrupt among us. Pure mystics seek to live normal lives, while corrupt ones thrive on consuming innocence. But I've chosen a different path, one that doesn't involve such consumption."

Eliza's brows furrowed as she absorbed Miss Canary's words. "So, when you talk about feeding, you mean... taking someone's soul?"

"Exactly," Miss Canary confirmed, her gaze steady. "They're drained of their essence, left either brain dead or transformed into a mystic themselves."

Eliza's mind raced with the implications. "And these pure mystics, like you, they don't need to feed to survive?"

"That's right," Miss Canary nodded, a serene smile gracing her lips.

As if on cue, Miss Canary turned and strolled back into her house, Eliza following her with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. They settled in the living room, and Miss Canary absentmindedly groomed her hair.

"By the way," Miss Canary began, breaking the silence, "do you have my note?"

Eliza's surprise was evident. "How did you—"

"I'm an elf," Miss Canary replied with a playful glint in her eyes. "To address your unspoken question, yes, someone else possesses the same rose you do."

Eliza's curiosity intensified. "Is that why you gave me the rose?"

A pause, then a thoughtful look from Miss Canary. "Partly, yes. Your mother seeks the rose for reasons that could lead her down a dangerous path. It's crucial she doesn't get her hands on it."

"Why is everyone so fixated on my rose? What makes it special?" Eliza asked, her frustration evident.

"Your rose is a link to something greater, a truth that just isn't mine to tell," Miss Canary replied, her words laden with a hint of secrecy. "One day, you'll unravel the mystery behind your rose and its significance."

Frustration bubbled within Eliza, but she sensed that arguing with Miss Canary would be like chasing shadows. Instead, her mind shifted to her mother, whose behavior was becoming increasingly concerning. She was drawn into an unhealthy circle involving Eric and her new boyfriend, and Eliza's worry intensified.

Her thoughts flickered to her brother, Jared, who was diligently trying to unearth the cause of their mother's transformation. Time felt like it was slipping away, and Eliza couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of it. The sight of her mother changing before her eyes filled her with helplessness, a gnawing realization that there might be a point of no return.