Lorelei the Fate Shifter

CHAPTER ONE

Sunshine in Darkness

In the Nubian Desert of Egypt, four children danced around a bond fire with their arms extended and palms turned upwards. The children’s silhouettes appeared magical and primitive, as if four fairies had escaped from an ancient tale. Around them the desert stretched gray and eerily silent. Sparks from the fire crept into the night wind and blew away to the far dunes.

As the children danced, they chanted:

Sunshine in darkness, darkest defeat

When Horace is dead at the fate-shifter’s feet

The chanting grew louder and faster as they circled the fire, taking ten steps to the left and then freezing for a moment before starting again.

At the stroke midnight, all four children gazed up at the night sky. Fireworks exploded overhead. The display was brilliant and colorful, exciting and overpowering. As smoke from the last explosion lingered, the children’s forms began to fade. At first, they were hazy, then blurry, and finally no more than wisps of smoke.

As they faded, the children sang:

Phoenix, Phoenix, it’s your turn

Ten years gone, let her burn

Their voices mingled with the night wind and floated away. In a moment, the children and the bond-fire were gone. Nothing remained except the ghostly pale desert.

And then …

* * *

POOF!

A girl with caramel-colored skin and golden-brown curly hair appeared in the upstairs bedroom of a house on Albert Street in London. One moment the bed was empty. Then a tinkling noise - as if the wind had rustled a crystal wind-chime - sounded and the girl materialized. She lay with her slender arms folded across her soft white nightgown as if dead. Then she gasped, taking in a deep breath, and slowly opened her eyes.

From a window beside the bed, gray morning light filtered through lavender gingham curtains. A framed poster of a ballerina hung on the wall. Spinning in a pirouette, the ballerina resembled a swan. The single bed where the girl lay was covered with a quilt made from red, yellow, green, orange, and blue stars.

Lifting herself onto an elbow, the girl cocked her head. Someone was moving around downstairs. She could hear the shuffle of feet and the scrape of a chair. Slipping from the bed, she swung her bare toes onto the hardwood floor and pushed the tangled hair from her eyes.

“LORELEI!” a woman’s voice called from downstairs. It was an older voice, filled with cheerfulness and affection. “BREAKFAST!” The woman almost sang the words.

A pile of neatly folded clothes sat on a chair: a white blouse, black skirt, purple tie, and a charcoal grey pullover with a patch that read Crescent Hill School, London. Beneath the chair was a pair of brown leather shoes. They looked soft and comfortable – but definitely not trendy.

The girl gazed at the unfamiliar clothes, and then down at her nightgown. It was also soft and comfortable, and she liked the fine lace around the neck. But she couldn’t wear a nightgown all day.

Taking the clothes from the chair, she began to pull them on. As she slipped off her nightgown, a gold chain thumped around her neck. From the end of the chain dangled a medallion. Stamped into the gold was the image of a large bird with the face of a falcon. It rose from a bond fire with its wings spread wide. Not a pleasant image, and yet the bird seemed content.

Wickedly cool, the girl thought, wondering where she had gotten the medallion and what the image meant.

Once dressed, she slid her stocking-feet into the brown leather shoes. She did not put on the tie, but slipped it into her pocket. Then she stood for a long time, gazing at herself in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair and patting her cheeks. She seemed amazed at the image reflecting back at her.

“LORELEI!” the woman’s voice called again.

Tip-toeing down the stairs, the girl listened to the sounds of the house. It seemed that the voice – or voices now, she could also hear a man’s muffled voice – was coming from the kitchen. She imagined it was the kitchen because she smelled sausage sizzling in a frying pan.

Reaching the doorway, she peered shyly around the corner.

A plump old lady was standing at the stove, while a gray-haired man sat at the kitchen table. He held a tea cup in one hand and gazed at her with twinkling eyes. His hair stuck up on his head and his face creased into a hundred wrinkles when he smiled.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” the girl replied.

“I’m John Tully. This is Mira, my wife. Please come in.”

Hesitantly, the girl stepped into the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She blinked rapidly several times. “I … uh … don’t know.”

Mira Tully turned with spatula in hand and gave a quick jump. “Oh, you’re up. Well, sit down. I’ve made sausage and eggs and toast. But you’ll have to hurry. It’s almost time for school.”

“Time for school?” the girl asked.

“A bit of education can’t hurt anyone, that’s what I say,” Mr. Tully offered.

“But …”

With head tilted, Mrs. Tully studied her.

“It’s all right, dear,” she said. “Everything’s fine. Just have a seat and I’ll pour you a nice glass of milk.”

“Maybe she’d prefer tea,” Mr. Tully suggested, putting down his cup.

The girl stared at them.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked. “How did I get here? I don’t remember anything. I don’t know whose clothes I’m wearing or …” She tugged the medallion from under her blouse. “Why I’m wearing this. And you’re asking me about milk?”

Mr. Tully grinned and his face crinkled again. “Have a seat, Lorelei.”

“My name is Lorelei?” she asked.

“Well, of course it is, dear,” Mrs. Tully replied. “What else would it be?”

Mr. Tully pushed out a chair with his foot.

“I know you’re confused,” he said. “But if you have a seat, we’ll try to explain.”

“Not now, John,” Mrs. Tully snapped, wiping her hands on a towel. “Let the girl eat her breakfast. Rosie will be here soon.”

“Rosie?”

The doorbell chimed.

“Right on time,” Mr. Tully said.

Giving Lorelei a wink, he stepped from the kitchen.

A moment later, a red-headed girl with large green eyes and a big grin appeared in the doorway.

“Morning, Mrs. Tully.”

“Morning, Rosie. Here’s your lunch now, Lorelei. You girls be off.”

Rosie grinned. “Ready?”

Lorelei looked at her. “No … I’ve never been less ready. I don’t know you … and what’re you talking about … school?”

Rosie blinked with surprise. “Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed … or what this morning?”

“I didn’t get up on either side. Well, I guess technically I did,” Lorelei replied. “But I didn’t wake up. Suddenly I was just here … wherever here is.”

She gave Rosie a confused look, lifting her dark eyebrows.

In response, Rosie twisted her mouth to the side of her cheek. “You’re beginning to freak me out, Lorelei.”

“I’m freaking myself out.”

“Well,” Mrs. Tully spoke up. “If you really don’t want to go, Lorelei, no one’s going to force you. You can stay here and help me with the Yorkshire pudding I’m making for dinner - or you can help John. He has to fix that loose stone in the garden walk.”

Lorelei gazed at the two old people and then at Rosie.

“But I still don’t know what’s going on,” she muttered.

Rosie picked up her lunch. “C’mon. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the bus. And I want to see Andrew.”

“Who’s Andrew?”

Rosie laughed. “A gorgeous boy who doesn’t know I exist!”

“Oh.”

“And here’s your tie,” Mrs. Tully said, pulling the tie from Lorelei’s pocket. Turning up Lorelei’s collar, she placing it around her neck. “Can’t go to school without it now, can we? Dress code and all.”

Lorelei shrugged and made a face. “How would I know?”

Mr. Tully patted her hand.

“Go on,” he said kindly. “When you get back, we’ll explain everything.”

“Will you?” she asked. “Because I have a lot of questions.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Lorelei looked the old man in the eyes and they twinkled back at her. She trusted him.

“Okay,” she said finally.

“Good,” Mrs. Tully said. “Now you two be off.”

Lorelei followed Rosie outside.

***

“Beat you to the bus stop!” Rosie shouted and took off with her backpack flopping as she ran.

“Wait!” Lorelei yelled and raced after her.

Ahead, a cluster of students were gathered at the corner.

“There’s Andrew,” Rosie said.

Lorelei saw a dark-haired boy with red cheeks.

Rosie sighed. “He hasn’t talked to me yet, but I know he will … someday.”

Lorelei felt a prickle on the back of her neck, as if she was being watched, and turned to see a man in a long black leather coat standing across the street. None of the other kids seemed to notice him. She looked away and then back again. The man gazed at her and smiled. Not a big smile, but a knowing one, like he had just said something funny that only he and Lorelei could understand. She hadn’t heard anything funny, so she turned away.

Within a few minutes, a bus rolled up to the curb and Rosie and Lorelei boarded. They tagged along behind Andrew until he dropped onto a seat next to another boy. Then they made their way to the back.

“What did I tell you?” Rosie beamed. “He’s fine, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Lorelei glanced out the window. The man in the black coat was still on the curb and watching her.

Creepy.

Rosie unzipped a pocket in her backpack and pulled out a bag of jelly babies.

“Want one?” she asked, holding out the bag.

“Thanks,” Lorelei said.

The jelly baby tasted sugary-sour in her mouth, then sweet, and then sticky as she chewed it.

“How old are you?” she asked.

Rosie stopped chewing and lifted her eyebrows. “Are you kidding?”

“No.”

“I’m the same age as you – twelve. What’re you - brain dead? My birthday party was last month. You were there.”

“Oh, yeh,” Lorelei said and watched the passing shops.

After twenty minutes, the bus slowed to a stop in front of an old brick building with white framed windows and a black iron gate. Above the gate was a sign for Crescent Hill School.

A bell rang.

“Better run,” Rosie said.

“Why?” Lorelei asked.

“We only have five minutes and I want to see Andrew in the hallway. Maybe we’ll bump into each other.”

Rosie jumped off the bus and Lorelei hurried after her.

***

On their way home from school that afternoon, Lorelei thought about her classes. Her geography teacher had asked about the location of the Euphrates River.

“Who can tell me where it is?” Ms. Hunt had asked, and then spelled it out. “E-U-P-H-R-A-T-E-S.”

None of the students raised their hands.

“I’ll give you a hint,” she began, but Lorelei interrupted her.

“The Euphrates River is in Iraq,” she blurted, and then added somewhat sheepishly. “Just south of Baghdad.”

“Why, Lorelei!” Ms. Hunt exclaimed. “That’s exactly correct.”

The class turned to her, and Lorelei suddenly found her stubby fingernails very interesting. She gazed at them as her cheeks flushed. Where had this knowledge come from? She hadn’t meant to interrupt Ms. Hunt. The information had just kind of exploded out of her.

Math class was different. Mr. Flaherty was teaching them how to change fractions to decimals.

“So, if we move the decimal point to here, what does that give us?” he asked, scanning the classroom from behind his tortoise shell eyeglasses.

Lorelei had no idea.

Please don’t pick me, she thought.

No good.

“Lorelei?” he asked.

She gazed at him.

Sorry sir,” she said. “Were you speaking English? It sounded to me like you explained that last part in Gaelic.”

The class chuckled.

“Do you speak Gaelic?” Mr. Flaherty asked.

“Apparently not, sir.”

“Well, I do,” he snapped. “And that certainly wasn’t it!”

The other students laughed, including Rosie.

Lorelei sank her head onto her folded arms.

***

The man in the black coat was still on the corner when Lorelei and Rosie descended the bus that afternoon. He was shuffling his feet from one side to another as if they were killing him. Lorelei couldn’t believe it. Nobody stood on a street corner for that long.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence, she thought. Maybe he’d been gone all day – to work or something – and had just returned. Maybe he had a child on the bus.

Yet when she and Rosie walked up the street, the man followed.

By the time they reached Rosie’s house, which was just around the corner from the Tully’s townhouse on Albert Street – the one with the sky-blue front door, Lorelei was so freaked out she wanted to call the police.

“Hello?” she wanted to say. “I’m being followed!”

And they would ask, “Who’s following you, lamb?”

And she’d say, “A man in a long black leather coat.”

And the police would say, “A long black leather coat? At this time of year? Are you joking?”

And she’d reply, “That’s exactly what I thought! Maybe we should call Scotland Yard!”

Instead, she gazed past the wad of jelly babies in Rosie’s cheek to her green eyes.

“Rosie,” she said in a hushed voice. “I think we’re being followed. Have you ever seen that man before?”

Rosie glanced up the street. “What man?”

“That one,” Lorelei said, pointing. “The man in the coat.”

Rosie looked again. “I don’t see anyone. Are you okay?”

“No,” Lorelei replied. “I don’t remember anything before this morning. . . and now I’m seeing things.”

Rosie glanced across the street again. “You mean. . . like you’ve got amnesia?”

“I guess so.”

“But you remember me, right?”

Lorelei gazed at her. Did she really want to tell Rosie she didn’t remember ever seeing her before – that actually Rosie was a total stranger – and if Lorelei really had attended her birthday party last month, she didn’t remember a thing about it? Not even the cake?

The idea was frightening.

“Well …” she began.

Rosie interrupted her.

“Let’s go inside and get something to eat. I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Lorelei said.

She was hungry. But more than that, she wanted to get off the street. The man in the long black leather coat had strolled up the sidewalk and was now standing directly across the road, gazing at them.

And if Rosie couldn’t see him, well … that meant …

Lorelei shivered.

What did it mean?

And why couldn’t she remember?

Sunshine in darkness, darkest defeat

When Horace is dead at the fate-shifter’s feet

“Do you hear that?” she asked.

“What?” Rosie replied.

“Children singing.”

“There’s a church up the street. Maybe they’re having choir practice.”

“No,” Lorelei said. “It came from up there.” She pointed to the gray-wool sky.

“Oh, c’mon,” Rosie grumbled. “Invisible men, losing your memory, and now you’re hearing voices? I think you’re going certifiably wacko.”

“Maybe I am,” Lorelei murmured nervously.

Rosie opened the door to her house. Lorelei gazed at the sky once more and followed Rosie inside.