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Authors: Heather McCorkle
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drink. After the worry she had caused she wasn’t about to be rude by telling Sylvia she’d prefer coffee. She sat with Sylvia, and her grandfather, at the dining room table, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Sylvia had been apologizing for the last fifteen minutes. At first Eren had tried to stop her, insisting that she was the one who should be sorry. But then she’d realized she would just have to let her aunt get it all out.
Finally, when she started babbling, Eren reached over and put her hand atop Sylvia’s, stopping the flow of words. Though she wanted to run screaming from the room, Eren managed a gentle smile.
“There’s no way you could have said it that wouldn’t have freaked me out. Stop blaming yourself,” she told her.
When she began to protest Eren squeezed her hand and shook her head. Sylvia closed her mouth and smiled. Eren’s grandfather—Zolin, he had said his name was—reached out and put his hand atop both of theirs. They were so caring and concerned that it made it hard to be cold to them.
“You must have questions,” he said. His voice was deep and rich, thick with an accent that wasn’t quite Spanish, but was similar.
That accent made Eren wonder what his age really was, it sounded very old world. Her first impression had been that he was in his early fifties. But now that she got a closer look at him he looked far too vital and fit to be that old. Not that she thought people in their fifties were broken down and decrepit, that wasn’t it at all. The color of her grandfather’s skin was too even, its texture too smooth and healthy looking. He had crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and laugh-lines around his mouth, but that was it. His shoulders didn’t hunch even the slightest bit and his joints didn’t have that too-tight look.
Now that she really looked, she thought he appeared to be in his early forties. This would make sense considering her aunt looked to be in her early twenties. The problem was there was something deep in both of their eyes that looked much older than either of them could possibly be. It was hard to identify, something Eren felt more than saw.
“Actually, I do,” Eren said after a moment.
There were so many questions to ask that she had no idea where to begin. All the books she’d read and all the movies she’d seen sprang to mind and only muddled things. Well, almost all the books. Every myth and legend she’d ever heard on the subject brought up a new question or a new fear.
“That book wasn’t fiction was it?”
Her grandfather looked confused but Aunt Sylvia dropped her head and hid behind her short hair, which only partially obscured the look of guilt on her face.
“No it isn’t. I was afraid you might have found it. I wanted to tell you before you read that, so I wouldn’t sound like a crazy woman,” she said.
Everything sounded crazy to Eren right now but she didn’t want to make matters worse by saying that aloud.
“Which book?” Zolin asked.
“Life In A Society,” Sylvia said as she lifted her head. She still wouldn’t meet Eren’s gaze though.
Grandfather smiled and nodded.
To distract herself from the anger that was starting to rise within, Eren asked, “How much can we control the energy?”
Her grandfather looked impressed, as though he hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. She might feel proud if she wasn’t so freaked out.
“Completely, eventually. But such control must be learned, we’ll help teach you,” he said.
She felt her brow crease as her stomach clenched into knots. Though that certainly sounded better than the often dangerous way movies portrayed magic, it still wasn’t encouraging. Since she didn’t know how to control it, did that mean she might feel the need to explode at any time? She was too afraid to find out the answer to that, so she asked a different question instead.
“What happens when I release it?”
Sylvia and Zolin exchanged a look.
“That depends on
Finally, when she started babbling, Eren reached over and put her hand atop Sylvia’s, stopping the flow of words. Though she wanted to run screaming from the room, Eren managed a gentle smile.
“There’s no way you could have said it that wouldn’t have freaked me out. Stop blaming yourself,” she told her.
When she began to protest Eren squeezed her hand and shook her head. Sylvia closed her mouth and smiled. Eren’s grandfather—Zolin, he had said his name was—reached out and put his hand atop both of theirs. They were so caring and concerned that it made it hard to be cold to them.
“You must have questions,” he said. His voice was deep and rich, thick with an accent that wasn’t quite Spanish, but was similar.
That accent made Eren wonder what his age really was, it sounded very old world. Her first impression had been that he was in his early fifties. But now that she got a closer look at him he looked far too vital and fit to be that old. Not that she thought people in their fifties were broken down and decrepit, that wasn’t it at all. The color of her grandfather’s skin was too even, its texture too smooth and healthy looking. He had crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and laugh-lines around his mouth, but that was it. His shoulders didn’t hunch even the slightest bit and his joints didn’t have that too-tight look.
Now that she really looked, she thought he appeared to be in his early forties. This would make sense considering her aunt looked to be in her early twenties. The problem was there was something deep in both of their eyes that looked much older than either of them could possibly be. It was hard to identify, something Eren felt more than saw.
“Actually, I do,” Eren said after a moment.
There were so many questions to ask that she had no idea where to begin. All the books she’d read and all the movies she’d seen sprang to mind and only muddled things. Well, almost all the books. Every myth and legend she’d ever heard on the subject brought up a new question or a new fear.
“That book wasn’t fiction was it?”
Her grandfather looked confused but Aunt Sylvia dropped her head and hid behind her short hair, which only partially obscured the look of guilt on her face.
“No it isn’t. I was afraid you might have found it. I wanted to tell you before you read that, so I wouldn’t sound like a crazy woman,” she said.
Everything sounded crazy to Eren right now but she didn’t want to make matters worse by saying that aloud.
“Which book?” Zolin asked.
“Life In A Society,” Sylvia said as she lifted her head. She still wouldn’t meet Eren’s gaze though.
Grandfather smiled and nodded.
To distract herself from the anger that was starting to rise within, Eren asked, “How much can we control the energy?”
Her grandfather looked impressed, as though he hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. She might feel proud if she wasn’t so freaked out.
“Completely, eventually. But such control must be learned, we’ll help teach you,” he said.
She felt her brow crease as her stomach clenched into knots. Though that certainly sounded better than the often dangerous way movies portrayed magic, it still wasn’t encouraging. Since she didn’t know how to control it, did that mean she might feel the need to explode at any time? She was too afraid to find out the answer to that, so she asked a different question instead.
“What happens when I release it?”
Sylvia and Zolin exchanged a look.
“That depends on
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