Branson Blood - 1. Branson Blood

Branson Blood

by eternity2rock

Chapter 1 Changes

Nyama stepped from the remains of her family’s home. With her eyes raised in desperation, she shook her fists at the sky and screamed, "Why did you take my family from me? What did I do to deserve this? It was ONE spell, one WISH!" Exhausted, Nyama collapsed amid the rubble and faded into a deep slumber.

Nyama Branson was 15 years old. The Bransons came from a long blood line. Aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins filled the area of Cambridge, England. Their family was held high in society’s eyes.

Nyama’s mother made sure she received the finest training available in the mysteries. However, sometimes, the finest training wasn’t enough. Nyama’s greatest fault was her lack of concentration. There was no telling what would happen when she casted spells; from a wind storm appearing when she wanted a cool breeze, to the electricity blowing, instead of a light turning off. Even her bratty little brother had more accuracy then she did.

Nyama awoke to the sound of birds singing. Half awake, eyes still closed, she cleared her scratchy throat and called out towards them, "What do you have to be so cheerful about! Can it, will ya!"

Rolling over in bed, stretching her arms above her, she let out a sigh and let them fall to her side. Amazed at how soft the bed felt, she bounced her body side to side. Smelling the scent of fresh roses and feeling the softness of the sheets beneath her, she opened her eyes.

This wasn’t her room; hers was pale blue, not pink. This wasn’t her bed; hers was much harder not soft and bouncy. Those weren't her pictures on the wall; hers were of magicians and elements, not unicorns and kittens. Where was she and how did she get here?

The memories of the house fire came crashing back like a whirlwind. The sound of her mother’s sweet voice still filled her head and she could see her standing at the kitchen stove, the countryside in full view through the window.

"All of the kids are going mom. It’s just a dance. I’ll be back early." she told her.

Standing with hands on hips, her mother politely said, "You can't go tonight Nyama. It's your brothers sixth birthday and you promised to help with dinner. End of discussion."

She remembered storming up the stairs to her room and slamming the door, her mother calling after her,”…And don't slam the door!" Even when she was angry, she could still hear the love in her mothers’ voice. She hoped with all her might that the spell she casted to slow time in her house wasn't the reason for the fire. Her aching knee was a reminder of that horrible day. She grabbed at it as remembered sneaking out of the window and down the trellis, scraping her knee on the thorns.

While rubbing her knee, the bedroom door opened. A well groomed lady with kind eyes and long flowing red hair came in carrying a tray of tea. Her flowery dress swayed as she walked closer. She bore a striking resemblance to her mother. As she spoke, her southern accent made it clear who this was.

“Hello dear.”

"Aunt Serenity!" Nyama squealed. "But how...When...Where am I?"

"All in due time, sweetie, and drink your tea and I will tell you what you have missed in the last week."

"WEEK!"

"Yes, drink your tea."

Nyama lifted the cup of tea and let the fumes envelope her. She sat back and listened to her aunt explain things.

"On my visit to England for the birthday party, my flight was delayed two hours. I arrived to see the firemen packing up. The house was destroyed. We thought everyone was lost, until we seen you come running up the street, sobbing. They ruled it an accident, sweetie, started by the flame on the stove igniting your mother’s apron."

Tears began to well up in Nyamas eyes. Serenity caressed her hair. When her aunt could see that she was more at ease, she continued.

"There's more, sweetie. After the shock of the fire, the doctor gave you some pills to make you relax. You were taking it hard. After the funeral, you even wandered over to the rubble of the house. I found you lying on the rocks and brought you to my home. You have been in and out of consciousness now almost a week."

Nyama's head started to spin. Was it really an accident or had she caused it?

She broke out in a stream of tears. Serenity pulled her closer and tried to comfort her. They let Nyama's tears run dry and talked about the good times their family had shared. Camping trips, birthday parties, holidays in Scotland; it was a comfort for her to be with her aunt.

"I need a bath, aunt Serenity. I will meet you downstairs."

"Ok, sweetie, take your time. I’ll start on breakfast. Eggs ok?"

Forcing a smile to her face and dragging her aching body, she nodded to her aunt and then headed for the bathroom.

The bathroom was huge! The bathtub was a white antique bear claw tub with shiny chrome knobs. One wall had two large picture windows, showing full view of the city, and an array of house plants. The towels were monogrammed and the cupboards were filled with all types of shampoos, conditioners and hair gels.

"I guess auntie likes to look her best. I'm sure she won’t mind if I use this", picking the bottle that read ‘Improves your shine in just one week.’

Running the bath water, Nyama changed out of her clothes and into one of her aunts’ robes. Sitting on the edge of the tub and dangling her feet inside, she waited for it to fill. With the calming sound of the water running, her mind drifted.

Nyama thought about the summers she had spent in this house as a child - one summer in particular, she had met the new neighbors. They had a huge st. barnard named Rocky and a son about her age named Styles. They became great friends – dragged off onto one of her adventures or just starring off at the stars.

One of the best adventures was when they were eight. A great storm outside had kept them indoors, engaged in a game of hide and seek. Nyama scurried from room to room, seeking the perfect place to hide. At last, she decided on the closet in the upstairs, spare bedroom.

It didn't take Styles long to find her. As he opened the closet door, she grabbed his arm and pulled him in. The two broke out in a laughing tizzy, tumbling to the dusty ground. Nyama was laughing so hard that she fell back against the wall - and it moved. They both froze in place, eyes wide open as they stared at each other. Nyama slowly raised her hand and pushed it further, revealing a secret door.

“What is it Nyama?"

She took his hand and they inched their way into the secret room, illuminated by the shaft of light penetrated by the gloom of the closet, and together they discovered a book.

Nyama brought it out to the light. Laying the large, bulky book on her lap, the two of them blew the dust off the cover. Just as Nyama was about to open the book, aunt Serenity called for them. Quickly stashing it back in the secret room, they scampered down the stairs.

Nyama popped back into reality and wondered if Styles still lived next door. She slipped into the tub, the warm water making her feel safe and protected. The last week of emotions were subduing and her childlike self was finally emerging. Quickly finishing her bath, she dressed and headed downstairs.

The smell of eggs filled the air as she passed through the dark hall. Aunt Serenity told her once, that a man by the name of Edgar Simpson had died in this very hallway from a heart attack and was buried in the back yard under the blackberry bushes. How odd for someone to be buried there, she thought every time she walked this hall.

She wandered her way into the kitchen. This was one of Nyamas favorite places to be and not just because Serenity was a great cook. There were so many things to look at in this room.

There was a bay window full of plants, a large china cabinet with antiques from her great grandmother Nyama and wall after wall of copper pots and pans. Nyama went to the cupboard, grabbed her favorite coffee cup and went to the table.

“I can’t believe that you still have this, aunt Serenity” she said with a laugh.

Sitting at the table, she grabbed for the Pillsbury doughboy salt and pepper shakers for her eggs. Toying around a bit with them, she engaged the shakers in an imaginary conversation about ‘how they were doing today’. With her eggs seasoned, she took a bite and asked her aunt about Styles.

“Does Styles still live next door?”

“Yes, he’s still there. Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought I would go say hi if he did.”

“There is something you should know, Nyama. He was in a car accident a year ago and hurt his leg. He uses a cane now and doesn’t go out much. It might do him some good to know that you’re here. Finish your breakfast and go check it out, sweetie.”

Nyama buttered her toast and slathered it with blackberry jam. Aunt Serenity always made the best blackberry jam. She won every county fair for her jam, since the 1990. All of her ribbons were displayed in the trophy room of the house.

Finishing her eggs quickly, she excused herself from the table, rinsed her dish in the sink and headed out the door.

She knew if anyone could cheer her up, it would be Styles. Aunt Serenity was a comfort, in many ways, but there was something about the bond that she and Styles shared that could always bring a smile to her face.

Crossing through the blackberry bushes, she pretended to eat a few and said good morning to Mr. Simpson. “Your berries were wonderfully delicious this year” she giggled as crossed into the next yard.

It was the beginning of fall and the leaves were starting to turn. Nyama stepped onto the porch of Styles house and knocked on the door. With no answer, she rang the doorbell. A lady with long, graying hair opened the inner door and peered through the screen.

“Yes, may I help you?”

“It’s me, Ms. Thompson--Nyama.”

Georgia Thompson was a newly graying, middle aged woman - someone Styles always referred to as, “the grouchiest woman in the history of Fairfax city, Virginia.”

After a long pause, Ms. Thompson opened the squeaky door and let Nyama in. She wasn’t sure why Ms. Thompson paused so long before she opened the door, but she was glad she did since the air was starting to turn a bitter cold.

“Up the stairs and last door on the right,” she said. “Just make sure you knock.”

Nyama made her way up the rickety stairs. So many days were spent running up and down these stairs. So many days were spent getting booted out of the house by Styles mother for running up and down those stairs. One time, they were even chased out of the house by her as she waved a broomstick and cursed at them in a foreign language.

Hanging on the wall was an orchestra of family pictures. From ages one to eighteen, the wall was filled with memories of the children in school, fishing trips, and family vacations. The very last picture on the wall was Styles. He was the baby of the family. Now 15 years old, he had grown into a fine looking young man. Nyama always loved the way his dark hair would fall to the side, and into his green eyes. Even though it clearly annoyed him, she always pushed it out of the way. He was two inches taller than her and always carried around a notebook. His once slim build was now a more muscular figure. He always had girls flocking over him, but never paid any attention to them.

Nyama knocked on Styles’ door and waited for an answer. Hearing nothing, she turned the knob, opened the door and peered in. There he was, sitting on his bed, arms folded across his chest, notebook lying at his side.

“Hey bud!” Nyama said with a squeal. “How ya been?”

Styles popped up from his boredom and threw out his arms.

“Nyama! How have you been? You didn’t visit last summer, so I thought…” he paused with a concerned look on his face.

“Well, I’m here now and not going anywhere. I’m living with aunt Serenity now.”

“Yeah, mom said there was a fire at your house, but that’s all she said. I had no idea that you were coming. Man, you’re more beautiful than ever.”

Nyama blushed at this thought. There was never a time in their whole friendship that either one of them had a problem with the way they complimented each other, but for some reason, the thought of Styles thinking she was beautiful made her smile in a way that she hadn’t in a long time.

The two of them sat on the bed chatting away for a couple of hours. He told her about the accident that left him partial crippled and she told him the details of the house fire. It was really good for the two of them to talk about what had happened. Soon time had flown by and the eggs had long since left Nyamas belly. She could hear Styles stomach starting to growl as well and offered a suggestion.

“Wanna go and raid the kitchen and see if your mom has any cookies?”

For being the ‘grouchiest woman in VA’, she made the best cookies. That woman could bake! Nyama's favorite cookie was peanut butter chocolate chip and she could eat a dozen in one sitting.

“Give me your arm. I’ll need it to go down the stairs. Mom takes my cane and hides it so I will stay put in my room.” He said with a laugh. “She has no idea that I know that.”

Nyama held out her arm with sadness in her heart. She really missed Styles and wondered now, if things would still be the same or not. He must have sensed this and squeezed tight onto her arm.

“Don’t think for one second that I’m letting my disability get the best of me. I can still kick your butt in many things little lady” he said with an attitude.

“I’m sure you can” she said laughed.

She was happy to be reassured that her friend was back to his old self again. She wrapped her arm around his and made her way through the hall and down the stairs, Styles in tow.

Smelling of freshly baked cookies, they snuck into the kitchen. Reaching for the plate, Ms. Thompson called to them.

“Nyama, your aunt is on the phone. She wants you home for lunch. And stay off those cookies Styles, you’ll spoil your dinner!”

“Thanks, Ms. Thompson,” called Nyama. “I’m on my way.” She grabbed a cookie anyway.

She stuffed a cookie in her mouth and waved to Styles as she left. She wanted to hang out longer with him, but knew that she had better get back or her aunt would have her head.

Chapter 2 The rains come

Nyama woke the next day to the sound of rain hitting the roof. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she felt something land beside her.

“Baxter! I had forgotten about you kitty” she said as she rubbed his soft fur. “AWWW! I have missed you. Where have you been keeping yourself?” She pulled a dust bunny from his fur and threw it onto the floor. “Auntie wouldn’t be pleased if you were wandering around all filthy dirty.”

Baxter made a loving purr and coaxed Nyama to continue to pet him. As she adjusted his collar, giving him more room to breathe, the cat nuzzled close to her, as if to say thank you. The furry critter seemed to love the attention.

Baxter was a long haired, black cat with one green eye and one blue. His intelligence surpassed most other animals. It was almost as if he could hear thoughts. Seeing him again thrilled Nyama. Squeezing him tightly, Baxter screeched.

“Oh sorry. I forgot how temperamental you are.” Laughing, she climbed out of bed and looked out the window.

The streets were covered in water. The trees hung low and the leaves were wet and glistening. She could see three young children sharing an umbrella and jumping through the mud puddles on their way to school, book bags in hand. Nyama wondered about school and quickly got dressed and made her way downstairs.

Finding her aunt in the kitchen making banana bread, she walked over to the batter and stuck her finger in to take a taste. Smack! A soft but fierce swat smacked Nyamas hand telling her not to get into the batter. The two laughed.

“Auntie, what about school? Will I be starting soon? How does it work?” she asked.

“I thought that I would home school you, sweetie, until the new semester started and you were settled in.”

Agreeing, Nyama went to the refrigerator. Seeing nothing of interest, she decided on the old standby of eggs and toast. Adding the jar of Blackberry jelly to her already full hands, she felt the jar slip and tumble to the ground. She set the eggs, milk, bread and butter on the table and went after the rolling jar that was heading towards the cabinet.

On her hands and knees, she reached under as far as she could. Still not reaching it, she had her aunt hand her a long handled wooden spoon. She swatted the jar with the spoon and sent it shooting back out into the middle of the kitchen. While she was down there, she noticed that the wall behind the cabinet was loose and it moved when she stabbed it with the spoon.

“Aunt Serenity” she asked as she excitedly got up from the dusty floor. “What’s behind this wall? I was pushing on it and …“

“Never mind that dear, I started your breakfast. Come finish it” She interrupted.

With a shrug, Nyama went to the sink, washed her hands and headed for the stove. While cooking her eggs, she cocked her head to the side to glance behind the cabinet. She noticed that the door had opened a crack and could see a bit of light coming from behind it.

Nyama settled back in her chair and ate. She knew this wasn’t a good time to ask her aunt about the door, just yet. How would she bring it up though? Maybe Styles would have answers for her. She finished her breakfast and sat out on the back porch to think this through.

Her mind was filled with sadness for her family. She was always one to deal with things in her own way, and certainly an adventure would distract her mind from sadness.

She sat and watched the rain pour. It seemed to come down in buckets. She scooted over to the thermometer and saw that it was 35’ out. She was almost glad that it wasn’t cold enough to freeze for fear of the standing water turning to ice.

“At least the blackberry bushes were getting a good watering” she said out loud.

“Nyama, phone sweetie” her aunt called to her.

Nyama got up from her seat and walked into the kitchen to get the phone. She knew that it could be only one person calling her. She kept the phone call short and then hollered to her aunt that she was going next door. Gathering up her jacket, she made her way outside.

Feeling the rain on her face and the wind against her back was always something that she enjoyed. Nyama couldn’t help but be in a great mood, even while getting soaked. Her mother called her crazy for wanting to play in the rain all day, but she didn’t care. This was a place that she could feel free; she was in her own element.

Tempted by the large puddles in the yard, she decided to splash through them. Laughing at the way she was getting completely soaked, she continued to splash her way over to Styles. Knowing that Ms. Thompson would never let her in looking like that, she decided to toss a pebble at the window to get his attention, like she used to do.

Searching the ground for a rock was a feat in itself. She dug through cold water and murky mud to find one just the right size. If it was too big, it would crack the window. If it was too small, he might not hear it. While searching, she came across what felt like a piece of metal. She picked it up and put it in her pocket for later. She finally found the rock she needed and went over to the side of the house.

This was going to be difficult. She used to be a dead on shot at these things, but she wasn’t as limber as she wanted. All those summers here, and the games of catch with Styles kept her arm in shape.

She wasn’t able to visit last summer because her grandmother Nyama died and it took such a toll on her. When Nyama would get her spells wrong, her grandma was always telling her to ‘just relax and breathe, it will come to you’. She missed her grandmother something terrible.

She drew back and launched. Sucess. The rock hit and soon Styles was standing at the window. Nyama motioned for him to meet her at the front of the house.

She ran around the house and waited for him to open the door. She didn’t want Ms. Thompson seeing her in this condition, so she hid off to the side by the bushes.

She heard styles call to his mom as he opened the door.

“It’s ok mom! Nyama is meeting me on the front porch. I’ll just be over at Serenity’s. You can call me later and check up on me, if you want.”

The screen door slammed as Styles sat on the porch swing. Nyama gave him a quick hug then dug into her pocket to show the piece of metal that she found. Spiting on it and whipping it clean, she took a closer look at it.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed

“What? What?!”

“You won’t believe this Styles but it looks like part of a necklace or something.”

“Let me see.”

Nyama handed the piece to Styles. After looking it over, he came to the same conclusion as she did; it must be part of a necklace.

“I wonder who lost it.”

“I’m not sure either, maybe aunt Serenity would know. Oh! – I almost forgot! – come and see what I found! It’s gonna blow you away; another secret room!”

She grabbed onto Styles hand and led him over to the house. On their way over, both of them stopped in amazement. It had quickly cooled off and was now starting to snow. They stood there in wonder, letting the small white flakes land on their faces and melt as fast as they touched them.

Chapter 3 The adventure begins

Styles and Nyama racked their brains for a sure fire way to get aunt Serenity out of the house or even distracted for at least half an hour, so they could explore. But how? Styles came up with a plan. He called his mom and suggested that Serenity join her for tea. Styles mother thought that was a brilliant idea, since the two ladies hadn’t had much time lately to enjoy each others company. All that was left was to give aunt Serenity the invite and wait for her reaction.

The two of them walked into the library, still trying to find the words to ask Serenity. They found Serenity reading what had looked to be a very old book. The edges were tattered and yellowed. Serenity quickly closed the book and lay it down on the chair next to her, covering the book with her afghan.

“What are you kids up to?” she asked.

“No good.” Styles joked.

“Aunt Serenity, we talked to Ms. Thompson and she invited you over for tea.”

They sat down and waited for her reaction. Normally, this wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but with an adventure blossoming, they had doubts.

“Sure! I would love to go join her for tea. Will you two be ok here all by yourselves? There is something that I want to discuss with Georgia anyway.”

“Yes aunt Serenity, we will be fine.”

Serenity smiled and bundled up two loaves of bread; one for now and one for later. Her banana bread was one of Georgia’s favorites. She always sent over a couple of loaves during the holiday season. In return, Georgia would send over her yummy cookies. Calling to the kids to stay out of trouble, Serenity headed out the door.

With Serenity out of the house, they were able to go check out the kitchen. She helped Styles down to the floor so that he could see the cracked open doorway.

“Wow” he exclaimed, “You were right, another secret room!”

There wasn’t any way that the two of them could move the heavy cabinet, so they needed to figure out another way in. Nyama tried to squeeze herself to peek into the doorway but it was no use; her thin body wasn’t fitting under the cabinet.

“We have to try and find another way in Styles.”

“Well if you didn’t eat so many of mom’s cookies, maybe you could fit.” he teased.

“Oh, very funny dork face.” She teased back, her mind still pondering thoughts. “Wait! I’ve got it! I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before! C’mon!”

Grabbing Styles by the hand, she led him up stairs and into the spare bedroom. In the process of moving the clothes to the side of the closet, she explained things to him.

“Hey, Remember when we were playing hide and seek and I fell into the secret room? I wonder if these two rooms connect.” Nyama said excitedly.

“Do you mean where the book was?”

“Yes, why do you say it like that?”

“I asked my mom about that a few years back, hoping to find answers. She dismissed it like it was none of my business. It made me really curious. Last summer, when Serenity asked me to help move some boxes upstairs, I had a chance to check out that doorway. It's not there anymore.”

“The doorway or the book?”

“Both.”

“What do you mean? Its not-“

Nyama pushed on the wall at the back of the closet. He was right, it wasn’t there. A little dismayed, she began to tap on the wall, looking for a false doorway.

“What are you doing Nyama?”

“Shhh! I saw this on a late night movie. The bad guys were trying to hide money that they stole and made a false wall. The cops found the money by banging on the wall.”

She stopped tapping and hung her head.

“I guess it’s no use. I can’t find the doorway.”

“Nyama Christina Branson,” Styles lectured “I have never seen you give up so easily!”

He walked closer to the wall and started to tap on it with her.

They stopped dead in their tracks - Serenity was home and was down in the kitchen. The two of them headed down stairs and sat at the table and snacked on banana bread. Serenity eyed then suspiciously and said, “I’ve been talking to Georgia about you missing so much school Styles, and since I’m home schooling Nyama, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind studying with her. This would mean you being over here for a few hours every day. What do you say?”

“You mean that you would be my teacher?”

“Yes dear.”

“I think that is a fantastic idea” he told her with a gleam in his eye. Although he loved learning, he had ulterior motives and it was almost apparent.

“Great! Then we will start tomorrow.”

Now they could put a better plan together. They wanted to see what was behind that door. How would they move the great big cabinet? And aunt Serenity - surely she would figure out what they were trying to do and put a stop to it. She always found a way to be at the right place at the wrong time.

"Wouldn't that be great if it snowed all day and all night" Nyama wished out loud.

"Yeah! Then I could knock you on your bum with a snow ball."

They engaged in a play full game of ‘not it’ as they walked outside to let the snow fall onto their tongues. Spinning around and around, they laughed until their stomachs hurt. Nyama raised her hands to the sky and said with all her might," Let it snow all day and all night. Let the snow fill the streets to the window sills." And so it began.

The air was now thick and the world suddenly fell silent. The two looked at each other with a sense of excitement. The atmosphere had a very peaceful, but exhilarating, feel to it. Things were about to change.

Chapter 4 The book

All was silent; no cars on the roads, no garbage trucks clattering up the street, no ambulances off in the distance. There was an eerie peace that filled the air, brought on by the wish of one young lady. Her intentions weren’t bad, by any means. When Nyama wished for something that she truly wanted, she got what she wished for--snow up to the window sills.

Styles had stayed over and the two woke to the sound of aunt Serenity yelling on the phone. The heating vents were a good place to hear the things that shouldn’t be heard. When her mother would come to visit her in the summer, Nyama would listen with her ear pressed against the vent, upstairs.

Styles rolled over in the spare bed and launched a pillow at Nyama, hitting her smack dab in the face. She flung the pillow to the floor with a flick of her wrist, and continued to listen, cocking her head towards the heating vent. Styles let out a chuckle but was quickly silenced by Nyama.

“Shh! I’m trying to hear. Aunt Serenity sounds upset.”

It was only 4 am and Nyama had wondered who would be calling at this hour. It was still dark outside and moon peered in through the window onto her bed. Listening for a few minutes longer, she played with the moons rays on her blanket.

Giving Styles the “come on” nod, they quietly crawled out of bed and walked softly across the floor to the vent. Pressing their ears to it, they sat and waited until Serenity finally spoke again.

“But—I just can’t hide her powers from her anymore. You saw the snow Charles. You KNOW she was the reason for that. It’s not even winter! She has to see the book; she has to be given her birth right. She needs to know just who she is and why she is really here. She is almost sixteen; it’s time.”

The phone slammed down and Styles looked at Nyama as she sat staring. Who was Charles? What book was Serenity talking about? What birth right?

They ran down to the kitchen. Serenity was sitting at the kitchen table when they got down there, pushing two cups of tea and toast with jam toward them. They took their chairs and listened.

“Nyama, sweetie, there is something that you need to know; something that you should have been told long ago. If I would have had it my way, you would have been told this information years ago. Your mother and father thought it was best that you didn’t know until you were older.”

Wiping a crumb from her lip, Nyama opened her mouth to speak, but Serenity continued.

“When you were just three months old, your parents were confronted by a man named Winston Thomas. His wife, Victoria, had died while she was giving birth to you. Winston tried his best but no longer could take care of you. He knew of our family and asked your parents to raise you. He wanted the best for you, sweetie, and this was the only way that he knew how.”

Styles reached out his hand and set it on Nyama’s, trying to comfort her.

“Winston came to regret letting you go. Each summer, he returned in hopes of finding you, so your parents sent you here to stay with me. The Branson’s were your family now. Seven years ago, a stranger came to your parent’s house and let them know that Winston had died. He gave your parents an old book, saying he had left it for you. That book is your heritage, your birth right, and all of the information that you will need to grow into person that you are to become.”

Serenity pulled the big dusty book from her lap and laid it on the table.

“I know you have been searching for this book. Let me show you something.”

She got up from the table and led the kids into the library. She moved the big clock to the side and pushed on the wall; it opened.

“Another one” Nyama said, amazed.

Leading the kids into a dark room, she pulled the string that was dangling from the light bulb. The light revealed boxes of dust covered papers, a small jewelry box and a pedestal where Serenity placed the book.

She pulled back the cover and leafed through the pages to find a tarnished, silky bookmark. In the center of the book, there was a neatly folded piece of paper that listed information for Nyama Christina Thomas, giving the Branson’s legal adoption rights. There was also a lock of hair and a letter from her birth father. Serenity handed the letter to Nyama, who was now crying.

Deciding to read it when she was alone, she put it in her pocket. Styles came up next to her and put his arm around her. He hated to see her upset.

“What’s this?” Styles asked as he walked over and picked up the box.

It was polished oak, 12 inches square, with an engraving of a heart and the letters ЙБ on the top of it. There was a complicated puzzle lock on the front of the box.

Serenity took the box, and working with the puzzle for a moment, revealed a small opening. She reached her hand out to Nyama, and asked for the necklace. Stunned that her aunt knew about it, she reached into her pocket to retrieve it. Styles and Nyama looked at each other in shock.

Serenity pressed it into the opening and the lid popped open. Inside was a crystal vial containing red liquid. She asked Nyama to drink it. Not sure of what to expect, but trusting her aunt, she did as she was told.

After a little cough and a cringe from Nyama, Serenity explained, “It’s a healing liquid made from the spit of a bull frog and the sweat of two hogs, cooked under the full moon on the eve of the departure of William B. Branson in 1729.”

Nyama grabbed her stomach in agony and doubled over. Just the thought of frog spit and hogs sweat made her body want to go into convulsions.

“Oh great! You’re a vampire Nyama!” Styles cried.

“You will be fine.” Serenity reassured her “Just give it a few minutes and you will start to feel more alive than you have ever felt.”

Serenity was right. Nyama announced that she felt better and wanted to continue on. They were curious about the book and asked Serenity to tell them about it.

“This book has every detail you will need to further your journey. The entries were from the Thomas side of the family and the history that they all share. It was no accident that your father knew the Branson’s. As a matter of fact, they were rivals of a sort. Your birth father was into dark magic. When he met your mother, he threw all that away and started to learn the ways of the white magic. Your mother helped and soon he had forgotten the dark side, or so we thought.”

“Dark side” Nyama interrupted. But-“

“Yes, dark side. Your birth fathers’ family was part of a clan that resided close to Cambridge, called the Misthions. They were very powerful and skilled in the dark arts. Since your father had the dark side in his blood, that means you have a small amount in you. That’s why, when you cast a spell or wish for things, they are exaggerated.”

Nyama sat bewildered. She had so many questions but wasn’t sure what to ask first. She grabbed Styles hand and walked closer to the book.

“Show us.”

Serenity flipped through the pages of the dusty book. There were recipes for oils, homemade soaps and all kinds of cures for every aliment imaginable. The pages had pictures of animals, symbols and colors all through it. The words were strange, almost foreign to Nyama, but in some small way, she understood it all.

“How is this book supposed to help me when I’m having a hard time understanding it aunt Serenity?”

“Place your hands on the book, Nyama, and close your eyes. Listen to what your heart tells you.”

Nyama did as she was told. She felt the warmth of the book running up her arms. It was enough to startle her and she pulled her hands away. She looked up at her aunt and with a comforting look from her; she placed her hands back on the book.

Energy surged through her. Nyama looked down and saw that the pages were glowing. The once odd symbols were now readable words. As she cleared her scratchy throat, she spoke the words.

“On these pages, bound within, lives a power greater than most. For those who dare to read and learn are just in truths set fourth. You will know what needs to be known, you feel what needs to be felt. Heed well these words and shelter them from those who dare not understand.”

“What does all this mean Aunt Serenity” asked Nyama “And by the way, who is Charles?

“All in due time, sweetie.”

Chapter 5 Accomplishment

Nyama sat on the living room couch and watched Styles fall asleep. She numbly replayed the thought that she wasn’t who she believed she was. Slowly unfolding the letter and trying to hold back the tears, she read.

My Beautiful Nyama,

I know, one day, this letter will leave you with many questions. No letter can tell you everything you need to know. Instead, I’m counting on my best friend to help you. Charles will make sure you have everything you need. Remember that your mother and I will always love you and will forever watch over you.

I have enclosed a lock of your mothers’ hair. It was her strength and I know it will aide you in times of need. Read the book, cover to cover, and learn all you can.

With all my love,

Winston Thomas

Baxter jumped up onto Nyamas lap and began to purr. Stroking his fur, she pulled him closer to her. Staring out the window, she watched the big white flakes continue to coat the yard.

“Do you believe all this Baxter? My mother died in child birth. My father…my REAL father, gave me away to the Branson’s…”

“M-M-M-E-O-W!” Baxter wailed as he jumped down for Nyamas lap and ran out of the other room.

She got up from the couch and walked into the secret room. Serenity stood at the pedestal reading the large, dusty book.

“It says here,” Serenity said as she entered the room “that you can use an item given out of love to help you cast.”

Puzzled, Nyama stared at her aunt Serenity.

“Oh come on Nyama, isn’t there anything that you really want right now, anything at all?”

“Well—I would like it to stop snowing so I could go outside and get some fresh air and clear my head” she said in a sarcastic voice.

“Then wish for it Nyama. Wish for what you want.”

“I can’t aunt Serenity. I can’t make any wishes. It will go all wrong and we will probably have seven more days of snow!”

“Use your mother’s hair, Nyama. Remember what your father said, ‘it was your mother’s strength and it will help you in a time of need.’ Take the hair Nyama, and make your wish.”

Nyama knew that she had to try. Her father went to all that trouble and she didn’t want to let him down. She grabbed the hair and twisted it into hers. Closing her eyes and mumbling, she raised her hands above her head. Her words got stronger and louder as she spoke until she finally collapsed onto the floor.

Serenity went over to Nyama.

“I’m ok aunt Serenity” she said. “I just lost my balance.”

She let her aunt help her to the living room. The most amazing thing had happened. The snow had finally stopped coming down and the sun was shining through the window.

“You did it Nyama! You wished for it, and it came true. It worked!”

“I can’t believe I actually did something right Aunt Serenity! It worked.”

Nyama got her wish that day. She went outside and breathed in the crisp air. She looked up to the sky and sent her mother a smile.

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