SCINTILLATE - Book #1 of The Light Key Trilogy

Chapter 22

The pilot announced our descent to the Emerald Isle, but when I looked out the window, there was nothing but a sea of white clouds below. It didn't seem fair. I should be able to see Ireland coming at me. I should be able to get a good look at my adversary, the one that swallowed up the people I love.

As soon as my father got wind of what I'd done, he'd probably call out the Irish version of the FBI. I swore Mari and Dun to secrecy, or at least enough quiet to give me a head start, but was sure Mami Tulke would also give them hell for being my accomplices. Besides going online on her phone and buying my ticket, Mari had slipped me some additional cash. Because I was seventeen and had my passport, I was good to go.

I don't know why, but when I hugged them, tears spilled over. I found myself staring at them, memorizing their unique and beautiful lights.

Hopefully I would find my mother's hidden papers in a mystery library before my father found me. I wanted to hate him, but I had an abnormally sized fairness gland. I couldn't blame him for what he did. Her letter was ominous, and she had vanished as she had feared. She had been very clear he should protect me above all, and my father had kept his promise. But if he'd just been honest with me, maybe I'd be better at protecting myself.

I couldn't help thinking of Dad as a coward. If someone I loved disappeared, I'd turn over every mossy rock in Ireland to find them. That's what I intended to do. She might not be in Ireland. She might not even be alive. I knew that. But I was determined to be brave, braver than my dad, braver than he ever let me be. I thrilled at the step I'd already taken, claiming the freedom to do what I had to do.

As we dropped into the misty clouds above Ireland, I thought of Finn. How could I not think of him? I tried to ignore the crushing heaviness in my chest. I fought stinging tears. I missed him like I'd been split in half. But I wouldn't contact him. Even if I saw him again, we were another good-bye waiting to happen. I didn't want that. Our one good-bye was hard enough.

The plane dipped below the clouds and suddenly the lushness of Ireland came into view. It was flatter than I'd imagined, but undeniably beautiful, a patchwork of green and gold floating in a universe of blue.

I was born here.

There had to be an inner bell that rang when you stepped on the soil of the country of your birth. I wondered if it would ring for me.

Right after we landed, I ducked into the bathroom to splash my face, brush my teeth, and tidy my nest of hair. I was so tense, my ears felt like they were riding on my shoulders. My stomach was queasy. Suck it up, girl. Quests sure weren't for sissies. I was in a foreign country without a soul in the world to guide me. One step at a time. I'm a big girl. I can get a cab, get to a hostel. I'll be all right. I'm going to be all right. Be brave.

The customs counter experience made me woozy. I was sure there must be an APB out on me already, but the clerk stamped me back into my birth country, and I was on my way. The baggage carousel snaked lazily past me. I realized too late that my bag had already gone by. I didn't have the energy to chase after it. It would come back around eventually. The crowd became a sea of legs and movement and color, and I, I was a still stone in the river.

Until a flash of silver darted past.

My head snapped up. My whole being startled. Silver! An aura like mine!

On the other side of the baggage carousel stood a guy maybe two or three years older than me. It was hard to tell. Some people have faces that carry the shadow of their young selves forever. Finn was like that—half rock-star man, half boy poet. Others, like this guy, had a man face, mature, all traces of the boy gone. He had probably looked twenty when he was thirteen. His silver aura shone like a beacon in the current of colors.

My hand came away from my mouth. I hadn't realized I'd covered it in astonishment. I couldn't help staring unabashedly at the pewter flares leaping from his skin. It was beautiful. Breathtaking. Is that what I look like? My heart pounded as I watched him gather his suitcase and head for the exit.

I had to talk to him.

I pushed through the migrating crowd to get my bag and dragged it to the exit, then burst through the doors into the drizzle. I looked left and right but couldn't find the silver guy anywhere amid the travelers and cars. I kicked my bag. How could I lose the only other person I'd ever seen with a silver aura? With a throbbing toe, I hauled my luggage along like a reluctant mule, looking for the correct shuttle bus to take me to the youth hostel Mari had e-mailed for a reservation.

I'd brought no umbrella, having packed for the summer sun in Chile, so I pulled my hoodie over my head, tucking my misbehaving curls into the sides. "No wonder this place is so green," I remarked irritably to an elderly couple who stood with me, waiting for the buses.

The old man grinned, showing a flash of a gold tooth as he tipped his hat to me. As quick as his smile came, it disappeared. His expression switched to alarm, his gaze froze. He collapsed at my feet.

I gasped and knelt down to him. "Mister? Are you okay?"

Just as suddenly as he had fallen, his companion's body dropped on top of him, her arm smacking my shoulder hard as she fell. Her eyes were fixed open, their blue irises exposed to the rain. I felt for their pulses, but my ability told me everything. Their auras were gone. Doused.

They lay in a tangled heap at my feet, bodies contorted haphazardly, rain falling softy on their colorless forms. They'd just dropped dead. A choking fear gripped me and adrenaline surged through my body. My muscles pumped with fire and every sense heightened. "Help!" I screamed into the rain.

Suddenly, a hand grasped my forearm and hauled me to my feet. Shocked and confused, I blinked at his silver aura. I'd lost him and now he was here, tugging urgently on me. "We've got to get out of here." His English was swaddled in a thick accent. I followed his anxious gaze across the busy street. A man in a trench coat and a flat tweed cap walked with his back to us in the other direction, but his white aura blasted more terror through me.

"Come! Andiamo!" I grabbed my bag. The guy gripped my arm as we ran down the sidewalk puddled with rain, leaving those two poor people, fatally stilled, behind.