for leaks under all the sinks like my dad asked, lowered the thermostat a few degrees, and then dead-bolted the door. We headed back toward our neighborhood.
“C’mon, I know you’re dying to open it,” Mason said, grinning.
I slipped my index finger under the envelope flap and worked it open. I pulled out two handwritten pages, and goose bumps chased each other down my arms. It was very “message-from-beyond.” I read silently as we walked.
|| 17 ||
MY DEAR CORINNE,
Harold had strict instructions about the circumstances under which to give you this letter, so if you’re reading it, I must be dead. What a pity!
I chuckled. Grandma Doris, through and through.
You may be wondering why he gave you this letter instead of Dorothy. Don’t tell her I said so, but I just couldn’t trust her to remember where she kept it. (Such a scatterbrain, I’ve never met in my life!) But Harold I know I can trust—levelheaded and dependable.
Dorothy should have explained to you about the pyxis by now. Please do listen to what she says, and don’t go experimenting with it on your own. I know you’ll be tempted, but the bottles are mostly to help you learn, and soon, you won’t need them at all. I’m so sorry I’m not there to teach you myself, my dear, but Dorothy will have to do.
I know it will be a lot for you to absorb, but it’s vital that you’re prepared. And you won’t be alone. You’ll have the other three with you, just as I had.
If Dorothy hasn’t told you about the signs to watch for in your dreams, please ask her right away. Your dreams will be your first signal of any impending peril.
I know it’s not easy to be the Pyxis, my dear, I know it all too well. But try to embrace what you are, and do your very best. I’ve no doubt you will rise to the challenge.
All my love to you, dearest,
Grandma Doris
P.S. We knew early on that Mason would be your Shield and Angeline would be a Guardian. We never could see who the other Guardian would be. I suppose it’s nice to have a few surprises in life!
My chest constricted, too tight to allow a full breath. Clutching the pages in one hand and the envelope in the other, I sank down to a crouch on the sidewalk with my head between my knees. Mason went a few more steps before he realized I wasn’t keeping pace with him.
“Corinne?” Alarm strained his voice. He squatted next to me, put one hand on my back, and tried to look into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying not to pass out,” I mumbled, panting. Black and white dots snowed my vision, and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I shoved the pages into his hand and sat down hard on the concrete.
My brain felt like mud. That letter had to be a mistake, a joke, some crazy story my grandmother had made up. Maybe she was playing a trick on me. That had to be it. It was a practical joke, and Dorothy was in on it, too. But Dorothy didn’t have her mental faculties, so she couldn’t hold up her end of the prank.
I watched Mason’s face as he quickly skimmed the letter. It morphed from concerned to confused to shocked in a matter of seconds, almost like a cartoon.
He looked at me with his hazel eyes so wide, they seemed to bulge from his face. It was as close to panic as I’d ever seen him, and that scared me almost as much as the contents of the letter.
“It’s just, like, some silly game or something … right?” I asked, my voice small but hopeful.
“Corinne, you have got to get that bottle of white stuff to your great-aunt,” he said.
His comment confused me at first, and for a horrible second, I thought he’d been affected by the same insanity that must have caused my grandmother to write that letter. But as his words sank into the muddled mess of my brain, I realized he was making sense.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said.
“It’s the only thing I can think to do,” he said. “You’re grandmother was pretty clear that if she wasn’t around, Dorothy would be the
“C’mon, I know you’re dying to open it,” Mason said, grinning.
I slipped my index finger under the envelope flap and worked it open. I pulled out two handwritten pages, and goose bumps chased each other down my arms. It was very “message-from-beyond.” I read silently as we walked.
|| 17 ||
MY DEAR CORINNE,
Harold had strict instructions about the circumstances under which to give you this letter, so if you’re reading it, I must be dead. What a pity!
I chuckled. Grandma Doris, through and through.
You may be wondering why he gave you this letter instead of Dorothy. Don’t tell her I said so, but I just couldn’t trust her to remember where she kept it. (Such a scatterbrain, I’ve never met in my life!) But Harold I know I can trust—levelheaded and dependable.
Dorothy should have explained to you about the pyxis by now. Please do listen to what she says, and don’t go experimenting with it on your own. I know you’ll be tempted, but the bottles are mostly to help you learn, and soon, you won’t need them at all. I’m so sorry I’m not there to teach you myself, my dear, but Dorothy will have to do.
I know it will be a lot for you to absorb, but it’s vital that you’re prepared. And you won’t be alone. You’ll have the other three with you, just as I had.
If Dorothy hasn’t told you about the signs to watch for in your dreams, please ask her right away. Your dreams will be your first signal of any impending peril.
I know it’s not easy to be the Pyxis, my dear, I know it all too well. But try to embrace what you are, and do your very best. I’ve no doubt you will rise to the challenge.
All my love to you, dearest,
Grandma Doris
P.S. We knew early on that Mason would be your Shield and Angeline would be a Guardian. We never could see who the other Guardian would be. I suppose it’s nice to have a few surprises in life!
My chest constricted, too tight to allow a full breath. Clutching the pages in one hand and the envelope in the other, I sank down to a crouch on the sidewalk with my head between my knees. Mason went a few more steps before he realized I wasn’t keeping pace with him.
“Corinne?” Alarm strained his voice. He squatted next to me, put one hand on my back, and tried to look into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying not to pass out,” I mumbled, panting. Black and white dots snowed my vision, and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I shoved the pages into his hand and sat down hard on the concrete.
My brain felt like mud. That letter had to be a mistake, a joke, some crazy story my grandmother had made up. Maybe she was playing a trick on me. That had to be it. It was a practical joke, and Dorothy was in on it, too. But Dorothy didn’t have her mental faculties, so she couldn’t hold up her end of the prank.
I watched Mason’s face as he quickly skimmed the letter. It morphed from concerned to confused to shocked in a matter of seconds, almost like a cartoon.
He looked at me with his hazel eyes so wide, they seemed to bulge from his face. It was as close to panic as I’d ever seen him, and that scared me almost as much as the contents of the letter.
“It’s just, like, some silly game or something … right?” I asked, my voice small but hopeful.
“Corinne, you have got to get that bottle of white stuff to your great-aunt,” he said.
His comment confused me at first, and for a horrible second, I thought he’d been affected by the same insanity that must have caused my grandmother to write that letter. But as his words sank into the muddled mess of my brain, I realized he was making sense.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said.
“It’s the only thing I can think to do,” he said. “You’re grandmother was pretty clear that if she wasn’t around, Dorothy would be the
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