The Blender’s Bargain – Chapter 15

Archie

My father ushers us into the cozy kitchen, his eyes darting around. Candles are lit on several surfaces, the house too quiet.

Hmmm, the power is out. Is this happening everywhere?

Dad’s hair stands on end and his hands shake. He’s clearly distraught about something, his sentences disjointed as he mutters under his breath.

“I just put a pot of coffee on, let me grab some mugs…” he trails off, rifling through the cupboards.

I glance around the familiar kitchen, comforted by the dark wood beams and antique copper pans hanging from the ceiling. But my towering partner seems to fill the entire space. Garrick has to duck under the lower doorframes, his muscular shoulders almost spanning their width.

Dad’s hands shake as he pours coffee, spilling some on the counter with a muttered curse. His eyes are rimmed in red, like he’s been crying. My chest tightens with worry. What’s upset him so much?

“Dad, maybe coffee isn’t such a great idea. You look like you’ve been on a three-night bender. What’s going on?” I ask, taking the cup from his hands. “Is Mom okay? Did something happen with the research station?”

He blinks at me before rubbing his face with both open hands. “Your mother’s gone, Archie.”

I pull in a quick breath and glance at Garrick.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” My scalp prickles as my vision tunnels. I’m here, but I’m also five feet above me, detached. My skin cools. “Dead?” I can only get out the one word.

He pulls in his lips and presses them together. “Let’s hope she’s still alive. But she left two weeks ago and never returned.”

My knees give out, and I collapse onto a stool at the kitchen island. It rocks to the side and Garrick reaches out to stop me from falling over. “Thanks,” I mumble at him.

Dad’s behavior concerns me as he prepares more mugs of coffee, despite my protest. He seems dazed, confused,… and resigned.

“I’ve been more worried about you,” he says.

Garrick accepts a mug of coffee with thanks. He has to clutch it in both hands, the petite floral cup looking dainty in his grasp. I stifle an inappropriate giggle.

This is not the time, Archie.

Dad scrubs a hand down his face, collecting himself. “I’m sorry… I saw the news about Stellura. Those strange vortexes appearing, buildings crumbling. It’s unbelievable.”

His eyes meet mine. “I thought you were dead, Archana. When you didn’t call, didn’t make it to the evacuation trains…” His voice cracks.

My heart clenches. Of course, he would have assumed the worst. I pull myself from my chair and circle the island to hug him. He’s not a big man, but with his arms wrapped around me, I remember the way I felt as a kid. Safe, protected. I cling to the solid warmth of him. Over his shoulder, Garrick gives me a sympathetic smile, but his eyes remain troubled. He senses there’s more Dad isn’t telling us yet.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t call. Everything happened so fast, we barely made it out. And neither of our phones work anymore.”

He pulls away. “I’m not surprised. Almost nothing works since last night. None of the electronics. The power has been off.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes downcast. “There’s something else I need to tell you… about your mother. When she went on that research trip up north a few weeks ago, she learned something about her ancestry. Something unbelievable.”

I glance at Garrick, my pulse quickening. His eyes reflect my unease.

“What?” My lips are numb.

He swallows. “Well, according to some ancient records she found, it turns out your mother is… was… probably…”

“What?” I insist, leaning against the island.

“Maybe a descendant of an ancient Lataran?” He winces. “I know it sounds like lunacy.”

I step back, stunned. Behind me, Garrick inhales sharply.

“What?” My vocabulary is large today, isn’t it? “That’s not possible. There were no humans here when we landed.”

“Well,” Garrick starts, and we both turn to him. “There have been rumors that people were living here, in the remote parts of the continent.” He sets his mug down. “I’ve seen the books in the library. Personal accounts of running into strange men and women speaking in a language never heard before.” He shrugs. “Most people thought they were ghost tales.”

“Mom?” I whisper.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Dad says, and this time I can’t help but laugh. The sound comes out of my mouth manic and stressed, catching on a high note that rips from throat. “Archana,” he says, using my full name again. I slap my hand over my mouth.

“The documents Mom found spoke of magic.”

I nod, my hand bouncing up and down with my head.

“I thought it was nonsense until I saw the news from Stellura.”

I sigh as I sink back into the island chair. “Me too.” I thought magic was nonsense too until my blender spoke to me. The two appliances sit quietly on the counter where Garrick set them. I’m afraid if they reveal themselves now, my father will have a heart attack.

But this news? It seems impossible, laughable even. My pragmatic, analytical mother having magical blood?

Dad nods as he takes in my resigned expression. “Yeah. I didn’t believe it either at first. But she showed me the old texts, the family trees tracing her lineage back centuries to a point where it’s certain her ancestor was a native. Someone named Branwen.”

Branwen. The name rings familiar, though I can’t place it. I glance at Garrick, but he looks just as bewildered.

Dad continues, “She became obsessed with researching her ancestor after that. Started talking about spells and the artifacts she brought back. I thought it was just a harmless hobby at first. I mean, spells? Come on.” He rolls his eyes. “But then…”

He trails off, his face crumpling. My heart aches for him. I reach across the counter to squeeze his hand.

“It’s okay, Dad,” I murmur. “We’re here now. We’ll figure this out together.”

He offers me a watery smile. But his eyes remain haunted, staring at something only he can see. There’s more to this story, more he’s not ready to share yet.

Dad takes a deep, shuddering breath and meets my eyes.

“There’s one more thing,” he says. “Before your mother left, she was spending all her time in the study with one of the old artifacts she brought back from her trip up north. A family heirloom, I think.”

He glances between Garrick and me, hesitation written across his face.

“She was convinced this object held some kind of power. She spent hours in there talking to it, reading old texts and trying to get it to do something.” He shakes his head. “I thought she was losing her mind.”

This artifact could be important. “What did it look like?”

“Some kind of ornate silver charm, with strange symbols carved on it,” he replies. “Your mother was obsessed with it. She barely emerged from the study, poring over those old texts for hours.”

He meets my eyes. “I don’t know if it means anything. But she left it behind in her hurry to leave. It’s still in the study if you want to see it.”

I exchange an eager glance with Garrick. This charm could be a vital clue, maybe even something to help focus the magicians’ power.

“Yes, absolutely. We’d love to see it,” I tell Dad.

He leads us through the great room, past the giant fireplace, and down the hall to the study. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the large windows overlooking the lake. Mom used to spend hours in here when I was a kid, working on projects for her job, reading manuals, and building out models with the 3D printer. The place looks like a bomb hit it. Papers, open books, and strange artifacts clutter the surfaces.

My eyes land on the gleaming silver charm atop the desk. Wow. It’s gorgeous. On its surface are intricate letters similar to what we saw on the pages of the book we stole from the museum. I touch it and my fingers tingle before I pull them back to my chest.

“Archie,” Garrick whispers, touching my shoulder.

I shake my head. “I… it…” I’m not sure how to put my feelings into words. This time I grab the charm and I don’t let go. It buzzes for a moment before settling into my hand, warm, familiar. It shouldn’t feel familiar. It should feel alien.

Maybe after the last day, this shouldn’t surprise me so much, but it does. Power thrums in my palm. This is no ordinary charm. Mom probably felt the same thing.

And if she’s descended from the natives, possibly even magicians, that means I am too.

I meet Garrick’s eyes, seeing my own worry mirrored there.

I sink into the desk chair, the silver charm still gripped in my hand. Its energy thrums through my veins, both foreign and familiar.

I’m descended from ancient Lataran magicians?

No, it can’t be.

I’m just plain old Archie Sapnu, an ordinary school teacher.

Or so I thought.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Dad murmurs. He slips from the study, closing the door behind him.

I meet Garrick’s worried gaze, at a loss for words. He crouches before me, his large hands engulfing mine around the charm.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone gentle. I’m always amazed that this giant of a man has such a kind, soft side. This is the part of him that his students love. Everyone hopes they get him for a teacher.

I let out a shaky laugh. “I have no idea. This is…” I trail off, shaking my head. Insane? Impossible? Yet the proof sits in my palm, thrumming with power.

Garrick squeezes my hands. “It’s a lot to take in.” He sighs. “This whole day has been a lot.”

I huff a short laugh. “No shit.” I sigh and close my eyes, letting my neck crack as I roll my head around. I need a vat of wine and a good night’s sleep like nothing else.

Garrick looks at me kindly, understanding my pain without making it seem small. His steady presence since all this madness started has kept me sane. Without him, I’d probably still be in Stellura, getting sucked into some magical vortex. I cling to the sight of his kind eyes, the warmth of his touch.

“What does this mean?” I whisper.

Garrick considers for a moment. “Well, it means your family has some kind of magical lineage. Which could explain why Ysroth chose you.”

I shake my head. “You don’t know that he chose me. And Arvid is in the toaster. Does that mean he chose you?”

Garrick shrugs. “I…” He stops and looks out at the sun setting over the lake. “Sorry. I have no idea.”

He was going to say something else. I open my mouth to ask him and stop. No. He’s obviously figuring something out. Something about me? Him? Us?

Whatever it is, he’ll tell me when he’s ready.

I press the charm between my fingers. “And if my mother really is descended from this Branwen, who I’m guessing was an important sorceress…” I stress the last two words with an eye roll.

Garrick chuckles. “It could mean you have magic within you, too,” Garrick finishes. His eyes shine with wonder, not fear.

I squeeze the charm. “But I’m just… me. How can I have magic?”

Garrick smiles softly. “You’ve always been extraordinary, Archie. This just confirms it.”

He said extraordinary, right? I don’t feel extraordinary, sitting here in shock. But the charm’s energy continues to thrum through me, hinting at power I never knew I had.

Garrick glances over his shoulder towards the rest of the house before smiling at me. “You must be starving. Why don’t I go see if I can help your dad make some dinner and then we can relax for a bit?”

He turns to go, but I snap my hand out and grab his. He halts in place, his breath slowing down. I lean in and press my forehead to the back of his hand. Solid, warm, dependable Garrick. I don’t deserve someone like him in my life.

“Thank you,” I mumble, gathering strength to lift my eyes and meet his. “Thank you.”

His returning smile is a little sad. “Anything for you.”

He squeezes my hand and leaves.

Anything for me.