"I don't understand, is silver a bad thing?" I asked starting to feel a little anxious by the way she was acting. I took a seat on the bed. When she didn't respond, I prompted her again. "Sage, you're really starting to freak me out."
"Oh sorry, what?" she replied still deep in thought.
"You can't say something like that and leave me hanging. What's wrong with having silver in a flourish?"
"I think you're a Weaver," she said as if she was still in thought.
"A Weaver? What the heck are you talking about? I'm not weaving anything."
"Okay, just see if you can help me out. I know your memories are pretty sketchy, but how much do you know about your parents?"
"My parents? What do they have to do with this flourish thing?"
She sighed sounding a little frustrated, "Just bear with me for a moment. What I'm really wondering is if it's possible that either of them had a necklace or bracelet with beads or stones on it? Something like this maybe?" she asked as she tugged on the charm necklace around her neck drawing my attention to it. I could see there were a series of different colored stones strung along the silver chain she was holding, each one wrapped in a silver design securing it to the chain.
"Well, I don't remember much about either of them. My dad was Gran's son, so I know a bit more about him from what she's told me. There are pictures around here of him too. However, my mom is another story. I don't remember anything about her. Gran says my parents got married somewhere foreign, so she never met her. Apparently, we lived where my mom was from up until the accident. Then I came to live with Gran after that. As for the charm necklace, this used to be my mothers." I pulled the necklace out from underneath my shirt. "Is this what you're asking about?"
"Ha, ha, ha! I knew it!" she said dancing around my room.
"Uh, knew what? Care to fill me in?"
"Your Mom, she was like me and would have been from Acklemar, it's in a realm, light years away from here. But given your Gran's talent for cures, I'm guessing your dad was a witch."
"I believe you mean wizard. Hey, wait a minute are you saying you're not from here, and you think my Gran's a witch?"
"Yes, and yes I think she is. As for your dad, witchcraft is not my one of my areas of expertise, so fine call him a wizard then. Anyway, you're missing the point. A Weaver is someone with magical parents from both worlds, like yours."
Still not buying what she was saying about my Gran or her being from another world I butted in, "There is no way my Gran is a witch, so that puts a huge hole in your theory. Even if I did believe you're from this Achelmyer place." I was trying to ignore the UFO poster on my wall behind her, with its big bold message I Want to Believe that was scrawled across it, making me feel like the word hypocrite should be written across my forehead.
"It's Ack-le-mar," she said phonetically spelling it out for me. "As for your Gran, yes, she is."
"I give, what makes you so sure?" I said with a tone that suggested it was as likely for her to prove her point as it would be for her to provide evidence that Easter Bunny or Santa Claus existed. She reached out and took me by the shoulders, then walked me over to the mirror, so we were both facing its glassy reflection staring back at us.
"What's missing in this picture?"
"What do you mean what's missing. It's just a reflection of me like I always am."
"Precisely." Then she reached around me and tapped on my cheek, drawing my attention to it. "The bruise, it's gone. All the swelling, gone. Uh, last time I checked most people would call that impossible or a miracle. Fortunately for you, I'm a little more rational and know what it really is, magic. What would you call it?"
Impressive was the first word that came to mind. She was right, I thought as I looked at myself in the mirror. It was as if the punch never happened. I knew Gran's clients raved about how good her remedies were, but I've never had her use one on me before today. No wonder she receives gifts and thank-you cards from all of her clients that she sold them to. If she was a witch, it made sense why she kept insisting that we needed to move every six months. If people got results like this for whatever ailed them, there would be a line up from here to the moon to get what she was selling. "Okay, the disappearing bruise is let's say for the moment a fascinating ability, but I'm still not sure I would use the word magical."
"Ugh, Wren, you're so frustrating. Especially when all the pieces of the puzzle are sitting right in front of you staring at you in the face. How much more evidence do you need?" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "All right then, I'm guessing you've had some unusual things happen to you. You know, so impossible you probably thought you couldn't explain it to anyone and have them believe you," she paused for a moment as if waiting for an answer, then inquired, "Am I right?"
Now she had my complete attention. Impossible things, huh? I could write her up a long list of the unbelievable from today alone. "Yeah, you could say that."
She gave me the I told you so look.
"Okay, say if I did believe your theory at least for the moment. What exactly are Weavers then?"
"Well, other than having parents from both worlds, I don't know much. It's not like there has been very many. Even though our species are from two different worlds, we are more or less compatible in every way. That is, every way but one. For some reason when our two races try and reproduce we have major fertility issues. In fact, before today, I've never even met a Weaver before."
"So, you're saying I'm basically a one of a kind freak," I said feeling less than awesome about myself. "You're full of good news," I grumbled.
"Hey that's a bit harsh, you're not a complete freak." She smiled and playfully punched me in the arm. "There are a couple other Weavers that I know of. I just said I've never met them," She straddled the desk chair to face me. "Why don't you go finish getting changed and I'll clean up the mess of food I dumped all over the place. Oh, I haven't forgotten that you still need to tell me why I was covering for you earlier. I have a feeling this chapter is going to be a good one."
"Fine, I'll be back in a minute." I needed a lot more than a minute to wrap my head around everything that she just told me. I walked over to the dresser and picked up a bobby pin off the top of it. Then walked out my door and down the hall toward the bathroom unfolding the bobby pin as I went. With the pin straightened out, I picked the lock and went inside. I changed out of my jeans and Kellan's shirt, then plucked my pants off the floor and put them on, then grabbed my t-shirt and threw it on over my head.
My pants were a little shorter on me than my jeans were, and I could still see the tattoo around my ankle peeking just below the edge of the hemline. When I bent over to straighten out the fabric, I noticed the tattoo around my ankle looked different. Some of the inky flames were colored in like someone had started painting in the sections of its inky outline. The random colored sections reminded me of one of those paint by number canvases you could buy in an art store. The fiery etching now had brilliant reds, oranges and a sparkly gold color weaved in filling the outlines while other portions of the marking were still a blank canvas in waiting to be filled in. What the heck gold now too? As I looked down at my fiery ankle, one name immediately came to mind that had a fiery ability, Jaxon. Not even bothering to push my pant leg back down, I scooped up my clothes and headed back to my room to where Sage was. She was sprawled out on the bed. When she sat up, she looked at me, and then I could see her eyes immediately dart to the etching around my ankle.
"How and the heck do you have a fire ring on you? That shouldn't even be possible!" she exclaimed.
"That's me, the eighth wonder of the world." I put my clothes down on the desk top. "And why exactly isn't that possible?" I said remembering what Kellan had said earlier. I was beginning to feel like I should probably know more of the answers to why these marks were on me than I did.
She shook her head, "First of all, they aren't both flourishes. That's a flourish," she said pointing to the watery mark on my chest, "and this is definitely a ring." She had her head almost on the floor and was lying down next to my leg to get a closer look at the etching. "This is a first for me. I've never heard of anyone being able to have a flourish and a ring. There's a glittery gold color in the ring too. You're definitely a Weaver."
"There's a difference between a flourish and a ring?"
"Oh yeah, there is. A flourish is a vow of some sort, and they aren't made lightly. So, whatever Kellan has pledged to you, it's pretty major. The ring? Think...," she trailed off and tapped her index finger against the ring finger on her left hand.
"What? It means I'm married?" I said sounding panicked, feeling like I was going to be sick.
"No, not married. Promised." She had an astounded look plastered across her face. "By the looks of the colors filling in some of those promise lines, it looks like he has every intention of making good on his claim too."
My legs crumpled beneath my body, leaving me sitting in a heap on the floor next to her staring down at the flaming brand around my ankle in disbelief. I could sit here and deny what she was saying—but something in me knew she was telling the truth.
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