Soul Stone Page 7

  “Of course.” I look around to make sure Dani has already taken off before continuing. “I think we should look into the reflection thing. Stories, legends, I don’t know. Something has to explain it. Maybe the power Kivera told me about has to do with the reflection.”

  “It’s something to start with,” Tanner says.

  I expect him to take off to his next class, but Tanner instead walks closer to me. His head hangs as he approaches. “Arra, about what Bas said today at lunch.”

  “Tanner, I don’t care about what Bas said. He was wrong.”

  “No, he was right about this. I understand why he was mad.”

  I try to tell him that it’s not important, but Tanner is insistent. The clock is ticking for us to get to our next class, but I sit down on the top of my desk and wait patiently.

  “When we were thirteen, I really wanted to impress this girl that was here for the summer. We were all going out on the boat with Jackson’s parents. It was supposed to be me and Bas on the water skis. We’d done it before, and knew what we were doing. Jackson’s dad was really strict about who he let on the water skis. He would have stopped and taught Emily how to do it right, but it was getting late and I really wanted to get Emily out on the water with me. So I talked her into it, and told the others she had done it before. I thought she’d be fine.”

  When Tanner lifts his head, finally, I see the pain and guilt he is still carrying around. Part of me worries that maybe Bas had a good reason for his display earlier, but I know Tanner well enough not to let that thought stick around. “What happened?” I ask.

  Tanner hesitates, fear of what I will think of him tightening his muscles. “She had a hard time keeping the skis straight and she panicked. She started yelling that she wanted to stop, and when Jackson’s dad started to slow down she gave the line to much slack and it got sucked up. She had somehow gotten her hand tangled in the line and she got pulled under the water.

  “Everyone freaked. I tried to get to her as fast as I could, but the skis slowed me down. By the time we pulled her up she wasn’t breathing. Jackson’s dad gave her mouth to mouth and she was okay, but she could have died, Arra. Most everyone thought it was just an accident, but Bas blamed me for what happened. And he was right.”

  A little stunned by his story, it takes me a moment to respond. “Tanner, it was an accident. Yeah, it wasn’t the best idea, but Emily decided to get on the skis, too. She must have thought she could handle it. You had no way of knowing what would happen. I’m sure it was incredibly scary, but she was okay. It was just an accident.”

  “Yeah, but …”

  I shake my head. “Tanner. We can talk about this later if you want, but we both have to get to class. Just know that this doesn’t change how I feel about you, okay?”

  Tanner looks far from convinced, but he nods and we walk out of the classroom. I start to pull away in the direction of my last class of the day. Tanner pulls me back to him. His lips press against mine softly. I can feel his need to be sure that his story hasn’t come between us. As his fingers slide back to my hair, my hands slowly travel up his chest. The fabric of his shirt twists under my fingers as I pull him closer.

  I can feel Tanner’s heart racing as he breaks the kiss, yet he hesitates to continue. His fingers tighten as they tangle in my hair. He holds me, but doesn’t press the space remaining between us. The way his eyes scour mine for any hint of doubt breaks my heart. Why does he think one mistake would change my mind about how wonderful he is?

  Sliding my hands to rest behind Tanner’s neck, I smile warmly at him with as much reassurance as I can manage. “Tanner, you are the sweetest, most caring person I know. One moment of bad judgment doesn’t define you. The care you show for others, your determination to protect me, the way you treat everyone, that is the guy I know and care about.”

  This time I am the one to kiss him. I have to reach up on my tiptoes to make it happen, but the eager response I get is totally worth it. I don’t think anything would have broken us apart if Evan hadn’t happily knocked into Tanner with a reminder that we are both about to be late for class. Tanner stumbles away after Evan, his eyes lingering on me hungrily.

  I am hardly better off. Trying to get my heart to calm back down enough to stop breathing like I just ran a marathon is quite the chore. When I hurry into class and find Bas’s eyes locked onto me with a disapproving expression, the smile left on my lips disappears entirely. I’m not quite sure why. Something in Bas’s expression stings me and I slide into my seat with my head down.

  The ninety minutes passes slowly. I have never been great with languages, but since the high school here requires two years of a foreign language to graduate, I forced myself to take a second year of Spanish. I close my notebook at the end of class feeling supremely grateful that English doesn’t require me to conjugate verbs. I think I would have given up speaking early on if it did.

  My quick exit avoids any encounters with Bas, and skipping a trip to my locker gets me out to meet Tanner faster than usual. As I wait for him to appear, my mind is drawn back to Dani’s story of Sibeal staring at herself in the mirror. I feel confident that there is something important hiding in that story, something that will give the dreams meaning. Short of Sibeal being the Wicked Queen from Snow White, I just can’t figure it out.

  I am so lost in my thoughts, Tanner slips up beside me without my even noticing him. I jump at his sudden appearance and we both laugh.

  “Well, are you ready to find out why someone is trying to warn you about Sibeal?” Tanner asks.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  In reality, I’m not sure if I am or not, but I know this isn’t going away any time soon. The source of the dreams is a mystery, but I fear that if I don’t figure it out in time, they will have the same result the dreams of Kivera promised. Death.

  Chapter Eight

  Despite the fact that my dad still watches Tanner like a hawk, my mom absolutely adores him. I texted her during my last class to let her know Tanner was coming over to do homework. Her response, a smiley face with a promise of cookies. She delivered on the smiles and the cookies.

  “Now, Tanner, you’ll have to tell me if you like these better than the peanut butter cookies I made last time you were here. I’ve been experimenting with new recipes and I’m just not sure which one is better,” my mom says. She is completely serious.

  “I will,” Tanner answers dutifully.

  Mom smiles again and excuses herself to the backyard to work on her flower beds. Tanner doesn’t waste any time. Two cookies are devoured before she evens makes it to the back door. I take one bite, actually taking the time to think about the cookie’s texture and taste. Tanner may not think so, but my mom is totally serious about wanting feedback.

  “So?” I ask, gesturing at the cookies Tanner is about to grab.

  He shrugs. “They taste like peanut butter.”

  I sigh and shake my head at him. No wonder his mom won’t let him work at her ice cream shop. “These ones are way softer than the last batch, but there isn’t as much peanut butter flavor. I think there’s too much baking soda, too. They kinda have a weird aftertaste.”

  The blank look Tanner gives me cuts off any more discussion of the cookies. “Anyway, reflections. Where do we start?”

  Now Tanner gets serious. “I was thinking about it all during my last class. What if it isn’t just the reflection that’s the problem, but the fact that it’s a mirror? Even the window was acting as a mirror. There are a lot more folk tales and superstitions about mirrors than reflections specifically. The Amish and some other cultures don’t want their pictures taken because cameras use mirrors and they believe cameras can steal parts of their souls.”

  I actually hadn’t thought about that. Sibeal was so intent on the reflection in the dream that I supposed that was the problem. It still may be, but Tanner’s suggestion gives us a better starting point. Turning back to my laptop, I type “folk tales about mirrors” into the search engine and sc
an the results.

  The first one on the list is about vampires and demons having no reflections. I giggle at the thought. “Well, at least we know she isn’t going to drink our blood when we aren’t looking.”

  Tanner chuckles, but his attention is on another search result. “Click on that one.”

  The page is titled, “Mirrors in Folklore and Superstition.” We both scan the article for something that jumps out at us. I pass over some of the more common superstitions, like the Amish belief Tanner mentioned and the ones about breaking mirrors bringing bad luck. I pause for a moment when it mentions mirrors being used as scrying objects, but after a few minutes I decide that if Sibeal is trying to scry information about something, she isn’t doing a very good job of it.

  I keep reading and something catches my eye. “Hey, what about this thing about shadow souls?”

  “It is believed that mirrors reflect the shadow soul. A shadow soul reveals the true nature of the person being reflected.” Tanner reads. His eyes light up. “That could explain a lot.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it,” Tanner says excitedly. “The first dream showed Sibeal crying as she looked at her reflection in the window, like seeing it made her see something she didn’t like. Then in the second dream you see her going from Miss Innocent to some psycho seductress girl. If something bad happened during her crazy stage, maybe seeing her reflection reminds her of what happened.”

  Tanner’s theory has a lot of merit, but it’s missing one thing. “That still doesn’t explain the power needed to send the dreams.”

  “Or who sent the dreams.”

  Yes. That is really the crux of this mystery. Even the source of the power won’t help me as much as figuring out who used that power to send the dreams. The sender will tell me what is behind them, what I’m supposed to figure out, and how I’m supposed to help them. Without knowing Sibeal’s past indiscretions, I have no idea how to find out who she hurt except for what I see in the dreams. If only I could rely on them to come as regularly as the ones from Kivera.

  “Eventually,” I say, “the dreams will tell me what Sibeal did. I don’t know how to find out anything more about them on our own.”

  “What if the police got involved? It would have been in the papers. Why don’t we search the Boston newspapers and news programs for stories about Sibeal?” Tanner suggests.

  My fingers start typing. The first search of “Sibeal Ahearn” turns up nothing relevant. Not even a Facebook page or Twitter account. Normally, I would find that pretty odd, but Sibeal isn’t exactly outgoing. Apparently, online friends are as few and far between as offline friends for her. I try adding more key words like “police,” “crime,” “investigation,” anything I can think of that will bring up some hint of what trouble Sibeal got herself into when she went off the deep end. We get nothing until I decide to try Sibeal’s mother’s name instead of her own.

  Links pop up in an instant. I click on the first one and start reading.

  “Brianna Ahearn, wife of prominent Boston lawyer, Clarence Ahearn, hosted today’s charity event benefitting the local children’s hospital.”

  “I didn’t realize Sibeal’s family was so well off,” Tanner says.

  “Me neither.”

  The article goes on to describe the particulars of the event and the hospital. I stop reading pretty quickly when I realize it won’t be helpful, but I click on the image linked with the article. Mrs. Ahearn stands with her arm around Sibeal. Both look like perfect ladies, proper and polished. The caption under the photo simply reads, “Mrs. Briana Ahearn and daughter.”

  Sibeal’s name isn’t mentioned once. Pictures of her with either of her parents are rare, but when she is photographed, she’s always addressed as Mrs. or Mr. Ahearn’s daughter. One article even comments on the Ahearn’s desire for privacy when it comes to their family life. I’m sure they had the best of intentions, but her parents sure are making it hard for me to figure out anything about the dreams.

  We try searching for Sibeal’s father, but that only brings up loads of articles about cases he was involved in. After another disappointing hour of searching for anything related to the Ahearn family, Tanner pulls my laptop out of my hands and closes the lid. He rubs his eyes and stretches, one arm falling around my shoulders at the end.

  “I give up,” he says as he pulls me down next to him. “The internet does not have all the answers as I have been led to believe.”

  “What a shocker.”

  Tanner laughs. “No kidding, but I thought we’d at least find a few clues about Sibeal’s past before coming to Grainer.”

  “Yeah, me too. I can’t believe she doesn’t even have a Facebook account.”

  Her total lack of online social presence is bizarre, like she’s purposely trying to hide her life from prying eyes. Even the most wallflower-ish, nerdiest teens have social media accounts. For some of them, it’s their only social life at all. Not Sibeal. She is definitely hiding something.

  “Our only other alternative is to actually get to know her,” I say seriously.

  Tanner grunts unhappily. “How long is that going to take?”

  “I wish I knew,” I say with a sigh. “It could take too long. What if we don’t figure this out in time?”

  Tanner frowns at me. “In time for what? Who said there’s a deadline?”

  “There’s a deadline. I can feel it.”

  “What do you mean?” Tanner asks. He comes up on his elbow to look at me straight on.

  “I don’t know,” I admit, “but it feels the same as it did with Kivera. After every dream, there’s this sense of urgency, like I have to figure it out or something bad will happen. I have the feeling that time is running out.”

  The concerned look in his eyes intensifies. “How long?”

  I sink against him and sigh in frustration. “I don’t know. I wish I did. At least with Kivera I knew when it was going to happen. With this, it could be today or next year, but I’m guessing it’ll happen sooner than later. Whatever it is.”

  “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to get to know Sibeal and dredge up her darkest secrets before somebody gets…uh, whatever it is.”

  Somewhat surprised, I look up at Tanner. “You’re with me on this?”

  Tanner kisses me playfully. “I still think you should stay away from her and let Sibeal deal with the consequences of whatever she did, but I know you won’t be able to let this go. So yes, I’ll help you get to know Sibeal, but you have to promise me one thing.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “If this becomes dangerous,” Tanner says, “you walk away.”

  “Tanner …”

  He shakes his head at me. “I’m serious, Arra. It’s one thing for you to offer yourself as a sacrifice to save your brother’s future daughters, but it’s a whole different thing to put yourself in danger for some girl who might be a complete psycho.”

  I know he’s right. What do I owe Sibeal? If she got herself into trouble, doesn’t she deserve the consequences? I tell myself that, but the thought of standing by while she gets hurt, or possibly dies…I don’t know if I can do that. Not if I have the power to save her.

  I know the answer Tanner needs to hear right now, so I say, “Okay. If it gets too dangerous, I’m out.”

  He looks relieved to hear me say it. I smile, but inside, I’m wondering if I just lied to him.

  “Arra,” my mom says as she walks in from the garden, “your father is going to be home soon. It’s his early night, remember?”

  She doesn’t say it, but the way her eyes linger on Tanner and I lying on the couch together tells me that we better find a more appropriate position before my dad comes home. I have a better idea.

  “No problem, Mom. I’m going to walk Tanner home. I’ll be back in time for dinner, unless you need me to help.”

  Mom smiles. “No, that’s fine. We’re having cobb salads for dinner tonight. I’m sure I can handle that on my own. Have a nice
walk,” she says.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  I stand and pull Tanner up after me. I can see his eyes look wistfully at the kitchen. His mom makes the best ice cream I’ve ever had, but her skills don’t seem to translate into cooking dinner very well. I think Tanner would eat dinner with us every night if he could.

  “Oh, come on,” I say as I pull him toward the door. “You don’t even like salads.”

  “So? It’s still going to be better than whatever my mom makes.”

  His pouting is absolutely adorable, but I want to be out of here before my dad pulls up. I shove Tanner at the door.

  We’re about to leave when my mom stops us. “What about the cookies from earlier?”

  Tanner looks over at me, surprised that she was serious. He fumbles for an answer. “They were really good, softer than before, I think.”

  I shake my head at him. “Too much baking soda, not enough peanut butter,” I tell her as we hurry out the front door.

  We walk a few blocks before turning the corner toward his street. As we turn, I see my dad’s car pull into the driveway. I sigh in relief. Eventually my dad is going to have to deal with the fact that I am dating Tanner, but not tonight. I have too much on my mind to get into another argument with him.

  “Is there anything else in the dreams that might help us figure out who’s sending them?” Tanner asks.

  I shake my head. “I’ve been wracking my mind for more clues, but the only thing I can think of is the stone from the first dream, the one Sibeal wouldn’t touch.”

  Seeing Tanner’s eyes light up, I continue. “I can’t remember it enough for it to be helpful, unfortunately. It was small enough to fit in a person’s palm, and there was some kind of design on it, but I can’t remember what it was no matter how hard I try. I only saw if for half a second before she covered it with her hand.”

  “You can’t remember anything about the design?” Tanner asks.

  “Not really.” I try to think back to the dream, but the brief glimpse I got just wasn’t enough. “I think there was some kind of swirl on it, but that’s really all I’ve got. Not very helpful.”