The Hybrid (25 page)

“Why does Airi think you are her mother?” Edyn involuntarily backed away from her.

 

“Because she
is
my child. As are you.”

 

Edyn was taken aback. “But she is my betrothed. We
are to be married, to join our two clans.”

“Your father did not know she was my child. I was expecting her before I fled. She is your sister. Your blood.
And although she was raised away from him, your brother
has managed to sink his claws into her as well. He has
corrupted her. He has brainwashed her and I fear she
may never overcome it. But I knew it would never happen
to you. You were too pure and innocent for that. You always trusted your instincts. I never had to worry that you
would not find your way. And you have. You know what
you have to do.” She looked up at Edyn once more. But he
did not falter. He gazed at her as if he were seeing a ghost.
“There is a way⎯ a way to become one of us again. But
you must find Magaterra’s child. She is the key. You have
read the stories. You know what she is. She can help you.
You are growing weaker, Edyn. And older. Soon, you will
be an old man. You must find her if you ever wish to be
like us again.”

“But how will finding her help save me?” Edyn looked
at his mother. She drew closer to him, her arms outstretched once more.

“My boy. You know the magic one of her kind possesses. Find your wings, defeat Kayne, and everything will be
right again.” She embraced her son delicately, as he took
a deep breath, processing everything he had just heard.

Part 3

Today I choose life. Every morning when I wake up, I can
choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain. To feel the freedom that
comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and
choices ⎯ today I choose to feel life, not to deny my
humanity, but embrace it.
⎯ Kevyn Aucoin

22
Changes

Tru sat on her bed a while longer before deciding to get
up and get some breakfast. She hadn’t seen Edyn in a
week, and it left her feeling as though she was missing a
piece of herself. But she would be seeing Declan tonight,
at Bethany’s party. And she would take that opportunity
to get to know him better. She wouldn’t be the coward
that she normally was.

Quickly, Tru jumped off of her bed, and began pacing
the room, trying to come up with the perfect plan of action. But after a few minutes, she could hear the sound of
the phone ringing in the kitchen.

“Hello?” she could hear Maggie say as if she were
standing right next to her. But before Tru could press her
ear against the bedroom door to hear Maggie better, she
could hear the familiar voice of her mother.

Tru backed away from the door cautiously, praying to
herself that she was just imagining things.
“Hello,
Maggie,”
Gail
said
quietly.
“Is
Gertrude
around?”
Maggie
took
a
deep
breath.
“Not
at
the
moment.
Would you like to talk to her?”
“Not today,” replied Gail.
“And why not today?” Maggie sounded angry. Slowly,
Tru moved closer to the door, listening intently. “You haven’t called once since she’s been here! I’m sure she’s
wondering why her mother hasn’t called in three weeks.”
“I’m not her mother Margaret!” Gail huffed angrily
back at her. “You can’t keep pretending that I am!”
Tru couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Especially
since no human could possibly hear someone on the other
end of a phone line when they weren’t even in the same
room as the phone.
“You have to tell her the truth, Margaret. She deserves
the right to know. And you have to be the one to tell her. I
am not proud of the fact that I haven’t called her, but
she’s where she belongs now.”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
“Then I have nothing left to say to you.” Gail took a
long deep breath. “I loved your son, but if he were alive,
don’t you think he would say the same thing?”
Maggie remained quiet. Her breathing was long, and
woeful, but after a few minutes, she finally decided it was
time to talk again. “I have to go now. I wont tell her you
called.” Seconds later, Tru could hear the sound of the
phone being hung back into its cradle on the wall.
Tru quickly shook her head, and headed for the closed
bedroom door. Carefully, she reached out her hand, and
touched the doorknob. But the instant her index finger
made contact with the golden ball on the door, a sharp,
stinging sensation slowly made its way up her finger, into
her arm, and throughout her entire body, causing her to
tingle in places that she didn’t even know existed. It was
like a static shock, but about twenty times stronger.

“OUCH!” Tru shouted at the top of her lungs, as she
fell to the ground, clutching her throbbing hand. She sat
there for a few seconds, rocking her body back and forth,
trying to relieve the pain. And as she rubbed her palm on
the plush carpeted floor, Maggie came bursting through
the door.

“Is everything okay?” She looked down at where Tru
was sitting, instantly thrusting out a hand to help her up.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tru replied, looking down at her hand
as she grabbed Maggie’s with the other. Maggie used as
much strength as she could offer to help her granddaughter off of the ground. The two women looked at one another in astonishment before looking down at Tru’s hand.

Located at the base of her palm, where her thumb met
her wrist, was a small black mark, in the form of a misshapen star. It seemed bizarre to Tru that she had gotten
burnt on the part of her hand that had never made it to
the doorknob. It was also strange that the burn was so
dark, instead of the normal pinkish hue that a burn usually would have been.

How did I burn myself on a
cold
doorknob?
Tru
thought.

Maggie rapidly yanked Tru’s hand closer to her face,
examining the burn. She hadn’t even looked at it for a full
minute before she quickly dashed out of the room. While
she was gone, Tru continued to massage the burn, hoping
it
would
magically
disappear
if
she
rubbed
it
hard
enough. But the rubbing only made it hurt more. And
after what seemed like merely a few seconds later, Maggie
was back in the room with a small bag of ice in one hand,
and a first aid kit in the other.

“Let me see,” she said, reaching for Tru’s hand once
more. “Here, hold onto this for a minute.” Maggie handed
her the bag of ice, so Tru gently pressed it against the
burn, flinching when it touched her delicate skin. Then,
her grandmother turned to the first aid kit. Quickly, she
grabbed a large Band-Aid, and a small packet of fast acting burn cream. After opening the bandage, and spreading the clear, gooey burn cream across it, she pulled the
bag of ice away from Tru’s hand, and replaced it with the
Band-Aid. At first, the cream stung the burn causing Tru
to flinch again, but moments later there was a cool and
soothing sensation.

“Thank you, Grandma,” Tru said as she firmly rubbed
the Band-Aid onto her skin, making sure it was secure.
“All better?” Maggie asked with a grin.

 

Tru nodded, smiling as she continued to fiddle with the
bandage that was slightly darker than her skin.

“I have to go into town for a bit today,” her grandmother said as she walked to the door, and then stopped.
“Your grandfather was going to join me. Would you like
to come along too?” She cautiously placed her own hand
on the doorknob ⎯ Tru watched her suspiciously, waiting
for a reaction, but nothing happened.

“Um,” Tru hesitated, wondering why Maggie hadn’t
said anything about Gail, “thank you, but no.” She knew
her grandmother was going into town specifically for
more backyard accessories, and the thought of walking
down isles upon isles of garden gnomes, lawn chairs, and
hose organizers ⎯ all while trying to pretend she didn’t
know who called⎯ gave her the chills. “I should be fine
here.”

“Are you sure?” Maggie asked, looking down at her
with her usual, I-just-made-cookies-face.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Tru smiled a fake smile, and then followed her grandmother out into the kitchen. She knew
Maggie was hiding something ⎯ yet again ⎯ but she
didn’t know how to bring it up.
What did she mean by ‘I’m not her mother?’
“Okay, well,” Maggie paused, grabbing her purse off
the hook by the kitchen doorway, “we should be back
home by lunch.”
Tru looked over at the clock on the kitchen wall behind
her grandmother. It was nearly nine. She had roughly
three hours to herself.
“Try not to get hurt
too
badly while we’re gone.” Maggie smiled, and then walked to the front door where Ben
had been silently waiting, holding her jacket firmly in his
hands.
After Ben helped her with her coat, he opened the large
white door and marched outside. Maggie turned back toward Tru. She then raised one finger, and slightly opened
her jaw. Tru waited for her to speak, to possibly confess to
the phone conversation with Gail, and offer some sort of
explanation, but Maggie never said a word. Instead, she
shifted her gaze toward the ground, smiled, then turned
and followed her husband out of the house and down the
path to the car.
Tru turned around too, and paced slowly back into the
kitchen. Sitting neatly on the table was a single pancake
on a plate, a cold glass of milk, and a small bowl of syrup.
On top of the pancake were two small dollops of whipped
cream, and a half-circled smile of chocolate chips just
below it. Tru’s stomach grumbled looking at it. She didn’t
know how she had missed it before. The smell had filled
the room entirely, making her mouth water.
Most mornings, her grandmother had left her a waffle,
half a grapefruit, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice,
and a fork ⎯ and most days she didn’t even eat any of it.
Today, however, it seemed as though Maggie was trying
extra hard to make Tru happy. And it worked. But it had
also appeared that she thought Tru was never happy
enough
.
The truth was, Tru was ecstatic. Her grandmother had
given her a place to stay, food three times a day, and love,
something her mother had possibly never heard about. It
made Tru wonder if Gail had ever really loved her father.
And as she thought about it, Tru realized that Gail really
hadn’t
called until today. And when she did, she didn’t
want to talk to Tru.
I’m not her mother,
Gail’s voice repeated in her head.
So, ignoring her⎯now very confused ⎯ feelings, Tru
decided to sit down and enjoy the
happy breakfast
that
her grandmother had taken the time to prepare for her.
When she was finished, Tru stood from the table, strolled
to the counter with her plate and empty cup in her hands,
and set them gently in the sink.
As she straightened her body, taking a deep breath as
she stretched her arms over her head, Tru gazed blankly
out of the window above the sink that looked out over the
front yard. The sunlight glistened off the blades of dewy
grass, making them look like a sea of emeralds.
After a few moments of daydreaming, Tru blinked her
eyes vigorously as she shook her head, instantly remembering where she was. Then, she looked back down at the
tan Band-Aid on her palm.
“Could I be any more of a klutz?” she asked herself
aloud, placing her index finger lightly on the tan bandage,
once again feeling a slight tingle pulse through her arm.
Having the house all to herself made Tru think of the
days when her mother had to work late. She would cook
dinner for herself cleaning up silently afterwards. And
when she was finished cleaning the kitchen, she would
tidy up the rest of the house. But living in her grandparent’s house now, Tru didn’t have the feeling that she
had
to do house work. She couldn’t see anything that needed
to
be
cleaned. So, Tru walked back to her bedroom,
grabbed the towel that neatly hung on the back of the
door, and made her way into the bathroom just a few feet
down the hall.
Tru didn’t normally leave the door open when she took
a shower, but being home alone made her think a little
differently.
She
couldn’t
hear
the
rest of the
house
properly when it was closed, and being alone in a place
she hardly knew freaked her out.
Tru undressed slowly, set her clothes on the counter,
and turned on the shower. The steam filled the room instantly, though it didn’t stay trapped, keeping the room
warm like it usually did. Gently, she stepped into the tub,
and closed the flower covered shower curtain behind herself. The warm water moved over her skin like a blanket
⎯ each joint in her body sighed with relief.

Ten minutes later, when she had rinsed what was left
of the conditioner out of her hair, Tru turned off the water
and
pulled
open
the shower
curtain.
Quickly,
she
wrapped the towel around her damp skin. Even though
the heater in the house was on, the air outside of the
shower curtain felt cold, sending a chill down her spine as
she walked over to the counter to retrieve her clothes. The
mirror above the sink had been completely fogged over,
making it almost impossible to see anything through it.
So, Tru leisurely strolled back to her bedroom, leaving the
door open behind her, yet again.

Just as she always did, Tru walked to the antique
dresser and pulled out a plain pair of blue jeans, and a
pink tank top. The warm clothes felt comforting against
her skin.

When she was finished dressing, Tru went back into
the bathroom to blow dry her hair ⎯ her wavy brown
locks were much longer when they were straightened, and
out of her buns and ponytails. Once her thick hair was
done, Tru silently walked back to the kitchen to grab another glass of milk.

“Gertrude,” a man’s voice spoke quietly behind her. It
was so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

Tru quickly turned around, almost dropping the glass
and jug of milk from her hands. But there was no one
there. Both of her grandparents were still gone, and she
hadn’t heard anything strange happening while she was
in the shower.