The Gift of Magic

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was almost midnight when they finally got off the boat and walked up the dock on Corey Island. Morgan had been dozing on the boat, too exhausted from the last few days to keep her eyes open, but now she was suddenly wide awake and very nervous. From everything that Peter had told her, this should have been her home, should have been the place of all her childhood memories, but it was foreign and a little bit scary to her. Since it was dark she couldn't see much of anything except lights in the distance, but she could smell both the salt of the sea and the unmistakable scent of the forest.

At the end of the dock there was a gate, an unusual thing to find on a pier but as they got closer she understood why. A man came out of a little shack by the gate and stood with his arms crossed over his chest in a stance that made it very clear that he could handle any trouble that came his way. When he saw Peter, he immediately relaxed and a big smile blossomed on his face.

“Peter, I'm glad to see you back and this must be Morgan. We're so happy to have you here with us.” The man said, pumping first Peter's hand then Morgan's.

Morgan found that even thought he looked tough, ready for violence at any time, she felt a burgeoning sense of security around him. “Morgan, this is Buddy. He runs our security force on the island, his family has for years.”

“It's nice to meet you Buddy.” Morgan said, then couldn't help but yawn as all her anxiety drained away, leaving her with the feeling that she was safe and protected.

“Looks like you better get her off to bed. Morgan I'd love to talk with you again another day.” Buddy said, kissed her on the cheek and went back into the little hut.

“Let's get ourselves up to grandma's house. I'm sure she's been waiting up for us.” Peter said, leading her to a little car that was parked in the lot.

Morgan was so tired it took her a minute to realize what he'd said, “Grandma?”

“Yes, she's your grandmother too. I don't think you'll remember her, you were too small when you left, but you used to spend a lot of time at her house, we both did.” Peter said, as he drove slowly down the little dirt road that led to the lights she could see in the distance.

It wasn't long before they entered what Morgan could only describe as a village, a single street lined with shops and businesses, as well as a hotel which surprised her considering the welcome that they'd received on the dock. She had what felt like a million questions she wanted to ask, but she was too tired to collect her brain enough to ask them, instead she put her head back on the seat and watched the village go by. Once they got through the village, Peter pulled the car into a long driveway and slowed down to a crawl.

At the end of the long drive a beautiful house came into view, Morgan could see it clearly since every light was lit, the house shining in the night like a beacon. After he parked the car, Peter turned to her and asked, “Are you ready?”

Morgan only nodded and got out of the car, not sure what to expect, but they'd only gotten a few steps away from the car when a beautiful woman came rushing out the front door. “I thought you'd never get here. I've cleaned the entire house, organized all my pictures, and made dinner for the next week.” She said, pulling Morgan into her arms.

Morgan was unprepared for such a show of affection from a woman she didn't even know but almost immediately she felt a sense of recognition. Taking a deep breath of her grandmother's perfume, a vague memory of sitting on her lap began to form in her mind, it was nothing more than a shadow but she knew deep down that this was the woman in the memory. She relaxed in her arms and let out a little sigh at the feeling that swept over her, it was impossible to describe what she was feeling and the truth was she was too tired to think about it too much, it just felt good.

Her grandmother smiled down at her, “I knew you'd remember me. Now let's go inside, you must be exhausted.” She said, and took Morgan's hand in hers as they walked up the front steps and into the house.

Once inside she led them back to the kitchen, sat Morgan down at the table. “How about some hot chocolate, it used to be your favorite.”

“It still is.” Morgan said, trying not to cry because it occurred to her that she'd missed out on growing up with this woman in her life.

Her grandmother got the milk out of the refrigerator and took it over to the stove, then began to rummage in a cabinet for a pan. When she set it on the stove, she turned back to them and looked from one to the other. “It's good to see you two together, although I'm sorry it had to happen this way. What happened out there?”

“Malcolm sent one of his men after Morgan.” Peter said, taking the cup of hot chocolate, she offered him.

“It's a good thing I sent you then.” She said, then set a cup down in front of Morgan and sat down next to her.

“Actually, I wasn't there when it happened. I think Morgan should tell you about it.” Peter said, a smile on his face.

Morgan took a long sip from her cup feeling a surge of energy as the hot, sweet liquid began to warm her from the inside. She took a deep breath, hating herself for being such a coward that simply telling the story of what had happened made her begin to shake. Her grandmother put her hand over Morgan's and squeezed, releasing another wave of good feelings.

“Maybe that story should wait for tomorrow, after you've had some sleep it won't seem quite so scary. You're safe now, Malcolm can't get to you here.” Her grandmother said, then got to her feet. “Peter, I know you think that Morgan will be more comfortable at your house, but I think she should at least stay the night here.”

Peter looked at Morgan who was almost asleep at the table. “I think that might be wise, Penny will understand.” He said, getting to his feet as well. “I'll be back in the morning, there's a lot we still need to talk about.”

When Morgan awoke the next day, she opened her eyes and looked around the room suddenly panicked to find herself in a strange bedroom. Then the events of the day before began to come back to her, she was on Corey island with the family she'd always been told didn't exist, in a bedroom at her grandmother's house. As if on cue, there was a knock on her door and her grandmother came in with a tray in her hands.

“I heard that you were awake. I thought you were going to sleep all day. Are you hungry?” She said, setting the tray down on the dresser. “I brought you some lunch.”

Morgan sat up in bed and smiled, no one had taken care of her for a long time, as much as her mother loved her she wasn't the type to fuss. She smiled at her grandmother wondering who had told her that she was awake, but the smell of food distracted her, and the loud growl from her stomach affirmed the fact that she was indeed hungry.

“I'm starving actually.” She said, laughing, then added, “And that food is making it worse, it smells wonderful.”

“Good, then I'll leave you to eat and get ready. I'll be in the kitchen when your done. Everyone is dying to meet you.” Her grandmother said, then slipped out of the room.

Morgan looked around the room again wishing that she'd asked where the bathroom was, at that moment her hunger was trumped by the need to use the facilities. She was just about to get out of bed, when the wall across from the bed began to shimmer as if heat waves were coming off of it, then to her shock a door appeared where there had been a solid wall. She jumped out of bed and ran across the room and threw open the door to find a beautiful bathroom behind it. It took her only a few seconds to absorb what she'd just seen and enter the room, amazed to find the bathroom of her dreams. It was only as she shut the door and it dissolved into the wall again, that she realized that she was already becoming accustomed to strange things happening around her.

After she'd devoured every scrap of food on the tray and drunk what felt like a gallon of water, she envisioned the bathroom again and with a shimmer the door appeared again. This time there was a wonderful shower, complete with big thick towels, and her over night bag was sitting on the sink. A part of her brain wanted to be shocked by what she was seeing, but she blocked the feeling, turned on the shower and stepped in before she could take those thoughts any further. If this was going to be her new life, she'd have to learn to accept all the strange and sometimes wonderful things that came with it, fighting it would only exhaust her.

When she walked out of the bathroom feeling much more normal, it didn't surprise her this time when the door disappeared, she simply shrugged her shoulders and left the room wondering what other mysteries the house might hold. It took her a few minutes to make her way to the kitchen, pictures hung from every flat surface and she couldn't help but stop and look at them, like a visitor to a museum she absorbed all that she saw. Many were picture of people, people who all looked vaguely familiar to her, but that she knew had lived long ago from the age of the photographs.

The sound of voices from the kitchen finally drew her into the room, Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, a huge plate of food in front of him and a beautiful woman seated next to him. When he saw her he said, “It's about time, I've been waiting here for you for hours.”

Morgan opened her mouth to apologize, but the woman next to him spoke first. “Don't let him fool you, he just got out of bed himself.” She said, then added, “I'm Penny, Peter's wife, I'm so glad you could come to the island.”

“Thank you, it doesn't quite seem real yet.” Morgan said, then took the seat her grandmother pointed to at the table.

“Now that we're all here, I think it's time you two explained why you've come back with not one but two grimoires and why I can't open the second one.” Her grandmother said, putting a cup of coffee and a huge plate of food in front of her.

Peter and Morgan spoke at the same time, “Can't open it?”

“No, I tried last night and again this morning, nothing I do will open that box.” Her grandmother said, pointing to the case the Bradbury grimoire was in.

“I didn't have any trouble.” Morgan said, perplexed.

“Let me try.” Peter said, getting up from the table, leaving his half full plate of food behind much to everyone's surprise.

He grabbed the case and set it on the table, but when he tried to open it, the clasps wouldn't budge. Mumbling a few phases under his breath, he tried again with the same result. After a few more tries and more mumbled words, he sat back down at the table clearly defeated. “I just assumed it was open to anyone, maybe you should try again Morgan.”

Morgan didn't want to touch the book, but she pulled the case over in front of her and popped open the clasps. “I guess I'm the only one who can open it.” She said, a frown on her face when the book inside whispered to her in a language she couldn't understand.