As it turned out, Eleanor was the eldest of three sisters. The two younger ones were twins: Edith—a.k.a. Eddie—and Emily. Eddie had gone off to college but returned after a year, and Emily stayed put to work on the farm. They lived with their mother, several farm animals—including horses, goats, and cows—and the family dog.
Lorna was a sweet, aging woman with calloused hands and a warm temperament. She baked every day, and she prayed every night. Their father David had been a stern but fair God-fearing man. He always had a story to tell or a lesson to convey, until a heart attack took him about six months ago. The family still reeled, and some of his things remained, packed up in boxes to be sent to storage whenever his wife and children could bear to let them go.
It was a tight-knit, loving group. By the looks of their house, they had guests often, usually extended family, and despite Eleanor’s abrasive first impression, they took great strides to make sure a newcomer like Dakota felt welcome. Before they sat down for the meal, he had a standing invitation to stay as long as he needed. Moreover, the family immediately included him in conversation and offered far more food than he could ever hope to consume in one attempt. Pheasant and ham, fresh baked biscuits, roasted potatoes, home-grown green beans, and steamed carrots. He found himself turning more of it down than accepting, though he tried to be as polite as possible.
Terrell was a regular here. Though no one provided an explanation, it seemed he stopped living with his own parents around age sixteen—shortly after a car accident, which caused his injuries. He’d spent his final two years of high school here on the ranch, helping out with chores where and when he could. After that, he called the college home.
Through the steady dinner conversation, Dakota slowly picked up on the names and life summaries of all the first cousins, ten in total. Their lives, their relationships, etc.
Things seemed more complicated for Terrell and his immediate family. Two brothers and a little sister who was ten years his junior. He hadn’t seen any of them in more than four years now. Dakota suspected that Terrell got kicked out or ran away, but then his extended family—from his father’s side—had accepted him with open arms. Since the three siblings were now completely separated from this group, their talismans were being kept here, locked in a safe.
Quickly, the conversation changed to Eleanor’s progress on the talismans. Dakota tried to absorb and memorize as much of it as possible, but by the end, he felt overwhelmed.
What he did learn: The necklaces, which each had names, needed to be worn to work, and wearers seemed immune to their stones’ effects. Though everyone treated the items with care, the material proved extra-durable and never broke when dropped.
Emily’s milky white crystal talisman caused moderate snowfall. She was positively tickled by it, as this power meant she could go skiing more often, and there might always be snow for Christmas. The other twin’s necklace shut down all electricity in a radius anywhere from a few yards to about a mile. Traffic lights, houses, clocks, cellphones, cars. It didn’t matter if it ran on a battery, the local power grid, solar, or anything else. If it had electricity, it stopped working.
The other cousins sent or dropped off their talismans for inspection, happy to let Eleanor determine their use.
One caused layers of ice to form on any surface. Others “called” animals from the surrounding area to a given location. Once they were there, the creatures became enraged unless set free. When tested, cows and horses rammed their fences and stables, to the point of injuring themselves, in order to assemble near Eleanor. Wildlife found their way to her, as well. Raccoons, squirrels, and even a pregnant doe arrived and began foaming at the mouth. But when she released them? They acted as though nothing had happened and simply dispersed. Another talisman did the same thing, only for birds.
Terrell hypothesized that there might be similar talismans for reptiles, fish, and insects. He said he kept a list of possible stones in an attempt to understand how many existed.
Their food turned cold by the time they got around to talking about Terrell’s more mysterious piece of magical jewelry. Unlike the others, it only lit up in a marble pattern, as the rest of it looked opaque, and though they knew its name—”A’kash”—it really didn’t seem to do anything. Eleanor tried directing it at various kinds of materials. Outside and inside. In place of a person, she used one of their oldest—and most ornery—goats as a potential target. But nothing happened.
The twins thought it might be defensive, and Terrell liked the idea, but nobody lined up to be a guinea pig. “So, I was thinking I’d test the other three next,” Eleanor said with a measure of exhaustion in her voice. She leaned back in her chair, and the wood creaked. “Kenna’s is a lot like yours, you know. So don’t get your hopes up.”
Kenna? The sister?
“I figured you’d wanna be there,” she added.
“Umm, sure,” Terrell replied in a distracted tone. Dakota saw him rubbing at his knee. “Should be interesting.”
Eleanor rose to her feet and began collecting plates. They clicked together as she stacked them. Lorna and the twins followed suit, and Dakota pitched in where he was needed. By the time they showed him to his room for the night, Terrell had disappeared.
* * * *
Dakota didn’t see Terrell again until he found himself on the verge of sleep. His little room was tucked away on the third floor. Muted floral wallpaper and light-colored wooden furniture set the room apart from the rustic home, and though there were still plenty of people awake and walking around, he could barely hear them from his temporary quarters.
He’d already pulled down the sheets and quilt and stripped off his still-damp outer shirt when he heard a hollow knock. He sighed. Walking up to the door, he pulled on the knob hard to get it open. The frame seemed to be a little warped, so the door wedged in when it closed.
Terrell flashed a big smile. “Hey.”
He blinked sleepily. “Something wrong?”
Recoiling, Terrell shook his head. “What? No, nothing. I—umm—” He reached into a small messenger bag and pulled out three spiral-bound notebooks. They were the cheap kind you could buy at any drug store. But Dakota saw pages practically soaked in blue and black ink. Notes on the magic stones, he guessed. By the wear and tear, Terrell filled the books up, probably even wrote on the insides of the covers. “If you’re not too tired, I figured I could bring you up to speed with my research. I mean, what we know about the talismans.”
He looked so nervous. What was he afraid of? That Dakota would say no to this adventure? That he’d opened up to him for nothing? It still seemed like a lot of anxiety over something that Dakota had every right to turn down. Terrell knew this stuff wouldn’t necessarily be his cup of tea. Maybe he wouldn’t go jumping off of bridges again any time soon—he had promised, sort of—but he wasn’t under any obligation to get into magical warfare, either.
“If not, it’s cool,” Terrell added to fill the silence. He fidgeted in the hallway, avoiding eye contact.
Dakota felt guilt wash over him. The stairs up to this room couldn’t have been easy to navigate with Terrell’s leg, and, worse yet, the handrail was on the right side, meaning he wouldn’t be able to use it to support himself, since he had limited function with that hand. The effort alone seemed worthy of at least a few minutes of humoring him. Dakota opened the door all the way and motioned inside. “Sounds like you really want to tell me, so—sure.”
With a grateful nod, Terrell shuffled past him and into the room. He took a tentative seat in a small wicker chair in the corner, setting the bag at his feet and laying the notebooks in his lap. His right hand rested on top of the pile, and with the left, he ran his fingers over its cuticles. Dakota dropped down onto the edge of the bed and waited.
“So, umm—” He opened the first notebook and paged about halfway through before awkwardly folding the cover behind it. “I dunno how much Lanie told you, but these things—they’re really old. Like, dawn of human civilization old.”
“Okay.”
He kept his head down. His eyes were locked on the neat lines of scribbled notes. “Different cultures, important people—if you look at a lot of old photos, paintings, artwork, you can see these people wearing them. Everybody from the first Emperor of China to the heads of religious sects and secret societies. We think they used the talismans to get in power and stay there. Battling. Empire building. Some people worshipped these things, passed them down for generations. I’ve been tracking them. Every time I come across one, I find out everything I can about it.”
“How many have you found?”
“For sure? One hundred and sixty-two. Seventy-two if you add in the ten we actually have. But I think I can prove that there are at least three hundred more still out there being used and tons more that have been lost. This one—” He reached under the stack for a blue notebook and held it up. “This book’s just filled with weird stuff from the news. You know, things that don’t make sense. Like the volcanoes all popping up at once. Or here—” He flipped to the back and pressed his finger into the paper. “A tree suddenly jutted out of the middle of a highway in France. There were tons of witnesses. It grew in only a few seconds, and cars had to swerve out of the way to avoid crashing. No one can explain it.”
“New kind of fertilizer?” Dakota joked.
Terrell frowned. The seriousness of his approach meant that any teasing immediately came off as a form of disrespect. But he took it in stride. “It’s funny you say that, actually. I think a lot of these things were meant to make life easier. Especially back when our survival as a species was kind of in question. Farming, building houses, staying warm in the winter. I think they gave us an edge over the wilderness.”
Dakota sat back. “You mean like somebody handed them over to help us survive?”
“Maybe. That, or some people early on just figured it out. Early magicians and alchemists. I really have no idea. I can’t prove any of my theories, at least not yet.” He continued pensively, “We’re just getting started, really.” He carefully collected his notes and slipped them back into his bag. He sensed Dakota’s disinterest.
Terrell wanted someone other than his family to listen to his ideas and theories. He deserved a better audience. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired. It sounds like you’ve been working on this for a really long time.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested. It’s fine.”
“I’m not pretending.” Adjusting his position on the bed, Dakota went on, “And I don’t do things just to appease people. If you wanna keep talking, I’m happy to listen.” He didn’t want to break Terrell’s spirit. Even if tomorrow he decided to go back to his shitty life as a college student, Dakota lost nothing by giving him the time of day.
Terrell’s eyes clouded with indecision. Dakota didn’t know what more he should say to try and remedy the situation, so he kept quiet. Eventually, Terrell reached back into his bag.
But when he sat back up, there was a polished wooden case in his hands instead of a few notebooks. He ran his fingers over the top, trying to make some profound judgment call. After a short pause to inspect the box, his thumb traced the seam until it found a small bronze latch. He flipped it open. The top slowly rose on a hinge in his unsteady hands, but Dakota couldn’t see what was inside.
“It’s only going to get more interesting,” he said quietly, peering down at the case’s contents. “Sooner or later, we’re gonna meet other people with talismans. It could get pretty intense. Dangerous.”
“Probably, yeah.”
He closed the case abruptly, turned it around, and extended it toward Dakota. “Say you’re in, and it’s yours.”
Dakota stared at him in confusion for a moment before opening the box and looking inside. There, lying before him in pearl-colored silk was an ornate brown and green disk. Most of it looked like chocolate, but the swirls and cracks contained emerald crystal. A gold clamp had been fixed to the top without piercing it, and looped inside it lay a black leather cord. He gazed down at the thing in disbelief.
After a few long moments to assess the situation, he pried his eyes away to meet Terrell’s. “You don’t even know what this does,” he protested.
Terrell shrugged. “I’d bet my bike that it’s some sort of defensive thing. But even if it isn’t, none of the talismans hurt the person who wears them.” His lower lip twitched a little as he hesitated, but then continued, “If you wanna stick around, it’s yours. I want you to have it.”
Dakota let himself touch the stone, though he didn’t dare pick it up. “Why?”
He looked away. “You can afford to leave your life behind. Most people wouldn’t. They have too much tying them down, too much to worry about. You were ready to get rid of everything before I even told you about talismans. If anyone can be recruited, it’s you. You’re perfect—umm, in other words.”
Snorting, Dakota lifted the necklace out of its housing and set the empty container next to him. “No, I mean, why would you give me this? I get why you’d try to convince me—I guess—but this is your inheritance. It’s part of what ties you to your family. And if it’s a weapon, you might need it.”
“I can use one of the others if I have to. But if you decide to stay, I want you to have one, too, and that’s the only one I can give you.” He gulped. Inching forward in his seat, he leaned in closer. “Put it on. The rope should fit you, but if it’s too short, I’m sure we can find a better one.”
Dakota’s gaze bounced from Terrell to the necklace and back a few times before his fingers found the clasp and opened it. Despite internal protests, he brought the piece of magic jewelry to his chest, reached back, and hooked the clasp closed. The thing was heavy, but not annoyingly so, and it felt cool against his skin. He let the pendant rest in his hand as he studied it.
When he finally made eye contact with him again, Terrell was grinning like an i***t. “So, you’re gonna stay?”
He nodded slowly. “If I go back to my dorm, I’m gonna jump off of it.”
Terrell tried very hard not to seem too happy, but it showed on his face. The loss of his talisman was a small price to pay for friendship. He wouldn’t have to do this alone. He rose stiffly from the chair and carefully reached for his bag. Slinging it over one shoulder, he headed for the door. “Tomorrow, Lanie’s testing the other talismans, so we’ll know what we have. If you want, we can head back to campus later this week to get the rest of your stuff. I don’t think Eddie’ll mind if we take her truck, but I’ll ask. You’re really up for this, right?”
A quick glance at the gift solidified his resolve. “Yeah, I think so.”
He smiled even wider. “Awesome.”