Selena poured over the documents, thumbing through records from the archives of Singapore, including pictures of one of the supposed relics of Oberon and a portion of text from the original account of worldwide destruction about a millennium ago. Intriguing, but still not enough for her to go on.
As Selena read further, she found redacted portions of the file. When she held the faintest inked-out parts up to the light, she could make out the words, "purge" and "war expected."
Selena's pulse raced, and her breaths came fast and shallow.
A war between the magical and nonmagical worlds, when Cunningham had gone out of his way to revolutionize the Defense Bureau and include nonmagicals? What was Father's part in all this, and how much did he, as a nonmagical, know?
Selena needed to copy these documents so she could study what she'd learned without him being the wiser.
Water magic wouldn't do unless she wanted to have an inky puddle of mess on her hands and all over Father's carpet. Anything duplicated with air magic would dissipate in mere moments. Fire magic would consume the original, leaving her with nothing to show for her trouble but a grounding for the rest of her life, or worse.
Father could burn her body. She'd faced abuse from him before without flinching, but in this case, what he didn't know couldn't hurt her.
Earth magic would suit the task best, then.
She summoned her magic and channeled it through her kamea, nodding in grim satisfaction as green tendrils flowed from her birthstone and ensnared the envelope and its contents in thick vines. Her birthstone gave several pulses of light in rapid succession, then, in the span of a breath, the vines split into two bundles. The light pulses stuttered to a stop, and the vines unfurled like a flower to reveal the original documents and the duplicate set.
Now Selena needed to disguise the copy so no one would know she had it. Closing her eyes, she focused her mind on an image of Uncle Franklin's favorite animal, the serpent. He'd often said he admired the serpent for its cunning and its symbolism of health and wisdom. Ironic, considering he'd lost all of these in the end.
This time when the vines unfurled, the duplicate envelope and its contents had transformed into a sterling silver serpent charm on a long rope chain.
With a heavy sigh, Selena slipped the chain over her neck and ran her finger over the smooth curves of the pendant. She tucked it beneath her grey t-shirt, its solid weight against her skin a reminder of the price Uncle Franklin paid. Someone had murdered him for trying to do what he thought was right. That person would pay.
Whatever came of the information she would gain, she had done all she could in here tonight. If she lingered, she risked getting caught. One close call tonight was enough.
Even though all Selena wanted to do was end this nightmare of a day and sink into sweet oblivion, thoughts of the documents and her father consumed her.
When she snuck back up to her room and settled under her covers, sleep would not come. About a half hour later, the flashing lights and telltale siren of a police car approached the house. The doorbell chimed, and Selena could hear the muffled sounds of conversation between her parents and the mage police. Father must have called them, then. If Father was involved, he hid it well. The police stayed a mere ten minutes at most taking their statements before leaving.
All night, she tossed and turned as she tried puzzling out the clues.
All she had so far were whispers and hints, with nothing solid to go on, and Selena found it maddening. She needed cold, hard facts, not conjecture and fragments of speculation. Father could be innocent of these crimes. He could be a cold-blooded murderer. Or, there could be a justifiable reason that he had to bring this special defense project to fruition, no matter the cost.
"War expected" and "purge" could signify anything, but together the phrases sounded ominous. What if it meant the Defense Bureau suspected the nonmagical world, those aware of the mage world, at any rate, of wanting to wage war and purge the world of mages? Father would act to protect Mom and Selena herself. He'd do whatever he felt needed to be done.
The one person who Selena desperately wanted to talk to about all this was refusing to speak to her, and the other person who she always confided in was dead. Selena wrestled in her sheets as her thoughts drifted to Franklin.
"I know your father's a hard man, but he would do anything for you," Uncle Franklin had said the last time she'd seen him before tonight. He'd wiped away her angry tears with a large, tender thumb as she sniffled. For a weekend evening, the shop-lined street had been all but deserted. Only a handful of brave souls had ventured out in this weather.
But, their tradition of Friday night coffee and a pastry would not be denied.
Up until this year, when she'd needed the caffeine to sustain her through the perpetual late-night study sessions senior year coursework brought, Selena had refrained from coffee. Father had forbidden it in her younger years. Any time she'd expressed an interest in trying the tempting bitter, dark substance with the heavenly aroma, he'd said the last thing the family needed to deal with was an even crankier Selena, with a case of the jitters to boot.
Hah. As if Father had any room to talk. Maybe he should be the one to lay off the coffee.
"Look at me, blubbering like an idiot," She'd said to Uncle Franklin. "It's so stupid. I'm never like this."
The rain had poured around them, echoing her dark mood, but Uncle Franklin had sheltered her under his umbrella. Selena could have simply created a water shield around them with her magic, but she was too upset to care about getting drenched. Uncle Franklin cared, though. He'd always looked out for her by doing little things like providing an umbrella in the rain to keep her comfortable, or sneaking her an extra cookie when Father had said one was her limit.
"Whether you like to admit it or not, you care what he thinks, and it gets to you when he criticizes."
"Which is all the damn time," Selena had sighed. "And, for the record, I don't care. I wish Father would stop hounding me about every little thing. Instead of being proud that I had perfect marks on every other final, he had to lecture me about the one little flaw in my Elements final, my fire-work. As if he would know anything about it," she said, folding her arms across her chest and staring off into the distance. "He really should stop running his mouth. Nothing I ever do is enough for him. Whatever. I'm over him."
"Your father has a hard time showing his true emotions. Rather like someone else I know." He elbowed Selena and gave her a wink.
Selena couldn't help but smirk. He knew how to make her feel better with gentle teasing, misguided as it was. "Okay, whatever."
"He pushes you to be your best, and do you know something? He may have trouble showing it, but he treasures your accomplishments. Do you know where your Elements final is?" When Selena shook her head — it had disappeared from the back porch and, for all she knew, Father had thrown it in the trash for its unworthiness — he continued, "The four elements sculpture you created now graces the entryway to the Bureau's wing of the government building."
Selena had blinked. She hadn't expected this. Father brought her project to work so he could display it for all to see. "What? You're serious?"
"I told you. He treasures your accomplishments." Uncle Franklin had left Selena to bask in the glow of that revelation for a moment before saying, "Now, let's get that coffee and dessert. A little birdie told me they have your favorite tonight."
"Lemon cheesecake."
Uncle Franklin, always the gentleman, had held the door for her. The shabby little diner was brightly lit with hovering mage lights and crammed with themed knick knacks, like miniatures of the Liberty Bell, mugs with images of the love sign, and Independence Hall figurines. Philadelphia cityscapes adorned the walls. The touristy decor notwithstanding, Selena had to admit, this place had the best desserts in Philadelphia. When they had settled themselves across from each other in their usual booth, coffee and sweets in hand, he'd fixed her with a solemn expression and locked eyes with her.
"What?"
He'd steepled his fingers and paused as if gathering his thoughts before speaking them. In a gentle tone, he finally said, "I can see something more than your father being ... well, your father ... is troubling you tonight."
Selena had dropped her gaze to the table with a frown, arms crossing protectively over her chest. "I don't want to talk about it."
"I hear that. If you change your mind and decide to unburden yourself, I'm a pretty good listener." Uncle Franklin had released eye contact and sipped his coffee before biting into his chocolate croissant.
More than anything, the simple offer sans pressure swayed Selena to confide in him. He had always listened to her and given support without judgment. Unlike Mother, he didn't blather platitudes, fake sympathy, or false optimism. Unlike Father, he wouldn't tell her to clean up her own mess and quit whining her woes to him. "All right. You're the first person I've told this, but ... Olivia and I had a falling out."
"Oh, that's a doozy. And to think I liked the girl from what you've told me about her." He leaned forward in his seat and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "What did she do?"
Selena loved him for blaming Olivia right away. Anyone else would have assumed Selena shared some part in the dissolution of their friendship and nitpicked at that, but what happened was all Olivia's fault.
"She hates me now because she thinks I blabbed an important secret. I didn't, of course. I've tried asking her where she's even getting this from, but she won't speak to me. Before you showed up tonight, I tried air-calling her. She ignored my call. It doesn't matter. I'm better off without her, anyway. She is so relentlessly cheerful it's annoying. Sometimes I wonder why we were ever friends, to begin with."
"Hey, it's okay to feel hurt. Own your emotions, no matter what they are. They're yours, and you deserve to feel them. Don't let anyone tell you differently. The two of you were friends for years. It's tough to lose someone you've cared about for that long." He had placed a hand over hers, and Selena mulled over his words.
Nobody had ever told her she had a right to feel whatever she felt, not even Olivia. Olivia constantly tried to make her cheerful, something Selena could never be. Father told her not to feel hurt or angry because these feelings showed weakness. Mother lived in denial.
"All right, then," Selena had nodded, a slight clench of her hands as she allowed the emotions to pour over her instead of pushing them away into neat little compartments where she could maintain easier control over them. "I'm angry. I'm angry, no, make that furious, at her for not trusting me, and I hope someone dumps her one day so she finds out how it feels."
Instead of judging her for her thirst for vengeance, Uncle Franklin had flashed her a look of deep understanding. "Do you feel better after saying it out loud?"
"Actually, yes, a little."
Selena came out of the memory, cheeks damp. She had thought she'd had no more tears left to give, yet here she was, blubbering like an idiot again. This had to stop. Uncle Franklin wouldn't want her to fall apart. It was one thing to allow herself to feel and own her emotions, quite another to let them drown her.
The absence of the two closest people in the world to her, Uncle Franklin and Olivia, left a raw, gaping hole in her heart. Willingly or unwillingly, the people she loved most ditched her, and it would be better never to open her heart to this agony again.
"Enough of this pity party," she hissed. Maybe it was time to try Uncle Franklin's approach. She had nothing left to lose. "Fine, I'm shredded to bits inside. I'm lonely and miserable, and I have nobody to talk to now. So what? I am seventeen years old, not a sniveling child, so I need to act like it, grow up, and solve this."
Selena let out a ragged breath and swiped away the remainder of her tears.
If only Olivia hadn't turned traitor on her. Selena hated her for that, but still, she missed their late-night chats, especially now when she needed a cheerleader and a shoulder to lean on. Olivia would help her sort through the evidence and arrive at a brilliant solution with her intuitive way of thinking, a perfect complement to Selena's logic.
The more this never-ending night wore on, the less she knew what to believe about Uncle Franklin's murder. All she knew was that she had to find out the truth somehow. She lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, clutching the serpent pendant like a touchstone.
An idea occurred to her as to how she might further her investigation. She could travel with Father. A busy cruise ship would provide myriad distractions, giving her leeway to overhear things, question his coworkers, and sneak a peek at Cunningham's most sensitive documents.
She needed to go with Father on that trip. Sleep continued to elude her for the rest of the night as she tried to work out how to accomplish this.