At dawn, the bright morning sun shining through the window by Alexandra’s bed roused her early. She had not slept well. Instead, she had tossed and turned, struggling to recall what she had seen in front of the car’s headlights on Black Hall Trail. Yawning, she rose from the comfy blankets and walked to the window to watch the sun rise over the gently rolling ocean waves.
She grabbed a robe that her grandmother had left for her at the end of the bed and threw it over her nightgown. Cracking open the bedroom door, Alexandra heard the whistle of a teapot coming from downstairs. The smell of bacon and biscuits lured her toward the kitchen.
She tried to walk down quietly, but the wooden steps of the winding staircase to the first floor creaked beneath her feet. Hearing voices from the back of the house, she suddenly realized that even at that early hour, everyone was already awake. She pushed open the kitchen door and greedily sucked in the savory aroma of breakfast.
“Miss Alex!” cheerily announced a round, white-haired man who was stirring a pot on the top of the stove. “Good morning, my dear.”
“Good morning, Patrick,” said Alexandra happily, moving to the man’s side for a hug.
“Look at you,” he said. “You’re just in time for biscuits and bacon. The eggs and grits will be out shortly, and I better see you eat so much you burst.”
“Smells fabulous,” Alexandra enthused.
“Alexandra? Is that you?” Granny June’s voice sang through an open door on the other side of the kitchen.
“Miss June is on the porch with your friend,” Patrick advised her. “You go on out there,” he said, handing her a big glass of orange juice.
Alexandra stepped out on the wide, open porch that wrapped around the house and overlooked the ocean. Sipping coffee together on the porch, Granny June and Taylor had been giggling and chatting as they waited for Alexandra to join them outside.
“Good morning,” Alexandra greeted them as she sat down beside her grandmother.
“It’s about time,” admonished Taylor, who was nibbling on a piece of bacon. “We thought you were going to sleep the whole day away.”
“It is okay, Alexandra,” Granny June laughed. “You do whatever you want. I’m just so glad you are here.” She beamed, contented, at her granddaughter.
Alexandra glanced out over the water and breathed deeply. “So what are you two talking about?” she asked, turning her eyes back toward Taylor. “I haven’t seen you laugh like that for a while, Granny.”
“I was telling her about my trip to Italy and Antonio,” Taylor explained.
“And I was telling Taylor about the short time I spent as an army nurse in London after the Second World War,” offered Granny June, sharing a knowing smile with Taylor. “That’s where I met your grandfather,” she clarified for Alexandra with a twinkle in her green eyes.
A breeze whipped across the beach and blew across the breakfast table. Hugging her robe tighter to her body, Alexandra asked, “Can I use the phone, Granny June? I haven’t called Mom yet. She must be absolutely frantic by now.”
Granny June set down her coffee cup and placed her hand gently on top of Alexandra’s palm as it sat in her lap. “I called her last night, dear. You hadn’t been putting your bag away in your room but five minutes before I heard you snoring through the door.”
“Thanks,” said Alexandra smiling.
Patrick approached with trays laden with bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Placing a heaping plate of breakfast in front of Alexandra, he said, “Eat up, young lady, or you are going to hurt my feelings.”
“Yummy,” said Taylor as she reached for another piece of bacon. “I might have to steal you and take you back to Atlanta with me, Patrick,” she said, winking.
“I don’t think Miss June would give me up without a fight,” he laughed, walking back toward the kitchen door.
“What time is it, anyway?” asked Taylor.
Granny June glanced at her watch. “Almost eight,” she told Taylor.
“Excuse me, ladies,” said Taylor, dropping her bacon and standing up abruptly. “It is after noon in Rome right now. I’m going to call Antonio and try out the Italian I learned from that CD yesterday in the car,” she said, pushing her chair to the table and scurrying away through the kitchen door.
“Her parents don’t get much sleep at night, do they?” Granny June asked, watching Taylor scamper away over the porch’s wooden beams.
“Every time I see her dad, his hair is grayer than the last time,” chuckled Alexandra. “Her stepmother doesn’t seem to notice her much, but Taylor seems to like it that way. I know she seems self-absorbed, but somehow she’s always finds time to look out for me, too.”
“So tell me about you, Miss Alex,” her grandmother asked. “How has my smart, beautiful granddaughter been doing? You don’t call me enough,” she said, pouting.
“I’m good, Granny,” Alexandra began, hiding her face behind her glass of orange juice, the burden of her own great expectations weighing heavy on her shoulders. “To tell you the truth, my schedule at Collinsworth is going to be brutal this year, so I’m a little nervous. I have college admissions tests next month, and my desk at home is already overflowing with college applications.” Alexandra sighed and picked at the eggs on her plate with her fork.
“And you miss your dad?” asked her grandmother. Alexandra nodded her head yes. “You’re made of tough stuff, young lady. You’re a Peyton, after all. Leave the worrying about your father to me. He’ll come home one day; I feel it in these old bones.” Granny June smiled at Alexandra and shook her shoulders side to side.
“Did Taylor tell you about her car?” Alexandra asked, wanting to change the subject away from the topic of her father. “I guess I really conked out last night as soon as we came into the house. I don’t remember anything except walking to my room after we got here.”
“She did!” said Granny June sharply. “You should be careful in the dark around here, Alex. Your grandfather Thomas was always reminding me about that.”
Alexandra gulped her orange juice and stared wide-eyed at her grandmother, startled at how seriously her grandmother took the mysterious incident. “Sorry,” she apologized. Then she went back to her eggs.
Granny June glanced over the headlines in the morning paper. “Did you get enough to eat, dear?” she asked, noticing Alexandra pushing away her plate.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said as Patrick started to clear the table. “You’re the best, Patrick.”
“Dixie would love the rest of this bacon,” he said noticing Alexandra had not finished eating everything on her plate. “What do you think, Miss June? Does she deserve a treat in her food bowl this morning?”
“Yes, but not too much, Patrick,” Granny June chuckled. “She’s starting to get a little wide in the hips.”
“I haven’t seen her yet today,” said Patrick as he turned back toward the kitchen and dropped a slice of bacon into the dog’s dish. “She must be up to some type of mischief bright and early this morning. This will bring her around, though.”
A porch swing near the table swayed lightly in the calm morning sea breeze, and Alexandra excused herself to have a seat on the swing. In front of her, a lush, green lawn spread across the back of the house until finally a low, wooden fence butted up against the sandy shore. Gently rocking herself back and forth, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the waves. This peace did not last for long, however, because she suddenly heard Granny June’s excited voice right in front of her, and she opened up her eyes.
“Alex, I have to show you something,” Granny June said. “It’s a wonderful surprise. I didn’t want to tell you about it until you arrived, but I can’t wait a second longer to show you. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Alexandra smiled politely and then calmly closed her eyes again while her grandmother disappeared inside the house.
In the wood-paneled library next to the kitchen, June unlocked a bottom-desk drawer and pulled out a brown, craft-paper-wrapped package hidden beneath old income tax paperwork. Closing her eyes, she cradled the box to her chest. It brought a spasm that shook her body so strongly that it made her sit down in a chair.
“Alex,” she whispered to herself, as if envisioning the future and fearing for her granddaughter’s safety. Slumped backward in her chair, June held her eyes closed, stricken with anguish over what might come to pass. “Help her,” June whispered softly. The old woman’s grip on the wrapped box loosened and the package fell to the wooden floor. As it crashed against the polished pine planks, her eyes popped open and she stared hard at the package, as if it personified an unalterable destiny. She stooped to the floor, retrieved the package, and cradled the box once more in her arms. Then she rose and went back out to the porch.
Waiting patiently on the swing outside, Alexandra watched a flock of seagulls gather on the lawn as her grandmother approached with her hands behind her back.
“Close your eyes,” she told Alexandra, and the girl obeyed. Alexandra felt the slightest pressure as her grandmother placed the wrapped box in her lap.
“Open it,” Granny June said.
“What is this? How could this be?” Alexandra gasped, confused as she stared at the gift that was placed in her lap, a package clearly from her father.
“Your father addressed it to you, but he chose to mail here,” Granny June said, watching Alexandra examine the brown-paper wrapping.
Hold on hope, Alexandra thought; but still, she was hesitant to look inside.
“Go on, Alex,” her grandmother urged. “Pick it up. It looks like it’s been all over the world,” she marveled.
“Look,” Alexandra said and pointed to the ink stamps of post offices in Russia and Egypt scattered across the wrapping. “It’s been to Moscow, Cairo, and everywhere in between.”
Misplaced for so long, she winced, just like Dad.
“Are you ever going to open it?” Granny June asked, bursting to know what could be waiting inside the package from her son.
Careful not to tear the wrapping, Alexandra gently took off the paper and pulled out a thin, white, cardboard box. Her heart raced as she held it tightly, her hands trembling. Sitting next to her on the swing, Granny June wrapped her arm around Alexandra’s shoulders. “Let’s see what it is, Alex,” she told her gently.
Her fingers fumbled to open the top of the box. Pulling it open, she peeked inside. She saw a folded piece of paper. As she lifted the paper, a necklace fell from the folds into her lap. She picked this necklace up and held it while she examined the paper. It was, indeed, a letter from her father! A bronze medallion, hooked to a simple leather strap, dangled in her fingers as she read the note aloud.
Dear Alex,
I found this today on a walk through the forest outside the village. It was lying on the bank of a river, as if it had washed ashore just for me to find. For some reason, it made me think of you. Maybe tomorrow I shall find another treasure for you, because I plan to explore more of the woods in my free time (though there is little of that!).
The excavation is well u nderway now at the castle ruins, and we are finding artifacts at every turn. Though I must admit that my colleagues seem to be keeping a secret from me—some of the items have started to turn up missing.
Anyhow, I won’t bore you further, Alex. When you wear the necklace, think of your old dad.
Love you, kid. See you soon.
Love,
Dad
Alexandra read the note three times before folding the paper and placing it in the pocket of her robe. Raising the leather strap up to her eyes, she examined the metal medallion in the sunlight. In the light, she discovered a figure etched into the smooth bronze: a man’s head, spewing fire, sitting atop a dragon’s body.
“May I see?” asked Granny June. She moved closer to admire the necklace. When Alexandra handed it to her, Granny June whispered, “This is certainly a treasure.”
Grasping the medallion tightly in her fingers, Granny June closed her eyes as if to see a vision more clearly, and her body shivered.
“Granny, Granny,” Alexandra repeated, her voice growing louder as she lightly shook her grandmother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Granny June roused back to consciousness. “Alex,” she stammered. Her eyes rolled in her head.
“I’m going to get Patrick,” Alexandra said and started to run off.
“No,” Granny June pleaded as she straightened her back and glanced around the porch. “I’m fine,” she said, stroking her granddaughter’s auburn hair.
“You looked as if you had fainted,” Alexandra anxiously told her. “You whispered something; you used the words time-walker, I think.”
“That’s silly,” Granny June said. “What does that mean?” But Alexandra suspected that her grandmother was not telling her everything she knew. “Hold your hair back, Alex,” Granny June told her. “I’ll put it around your neck for you.”
Alexandra pulled her long hair out of the way for her grandmother to tie the leather strap around her neck.
“I see your birthmark isn’t fading any this summer,” said Granny June, her eyes puzzling at the dark mark that resembled a pair of wide-open eyes on the back of her granddaughter’s neck.
“If you say so,” said Alexandra, rubbing her neck. “I don’t think about it much.”
“Turn around now. Let me see how it looks,” said Granny June. She noticed the dark circles under Alexandra’s eyes. “Did you sleep all right last night, Alex?”
“I guess,” Alexandra sighed. “I have been having the same dream over again lately, though. It’s kind of annoying,” she laughed nervously.
“What could be so upsetting, my dear?” Granny June asked, holding her granddaughter’s hand in her lap.
“Do you remember the story you told me when I was a little girl?” Alexandra asked. “The one about Princess Iselin?”
Granny June nodded.
“Every night—for weeks—I dream about a girl with flowers braided into her long hair. She is wearing a white dress. The dream always starts with her running through the woods as fast as she can, like she’s running for her life. As she runs, the flowers fall from her hair, and her dress rips into tatters. Finally she falls to the ground. Before she can pick herself up, a creature swoops down and picks her up in its claws.” By this point, Alexandra was slightly trembling.
“My goodness, Alex, lay your head down,” Granny June said, pulling her granddaughter’s head to her shoulder. “I wish I had never told you that story,” she said, stroking Alexandra’s hair.
Meanwhile upstairs, Taylor was having a streak of bad luck. Once she’d gotten to her room, she had yanked her cell phone from the wall charger and hunted for Antonio’s phone number. Finding the long-distance number, she crooned, “There you are, handsome,” and hit the call button. “Please pick up, please,” she said into the phone. But after the tenth ring, she grunted “Humph” and hit the phone’s end-call button. “Your loss,” she told the phone and tossed it onto her bed.
Opening a suitcase, she chose a pair of itty-bitty, tight white shorts and a bright-pink tank top. “Now where are my new sandals?” she wondered aloud, scouring the room for her shoes. Kneeling under the bed, she felt a tiny, wet nose sniffing her feet. She turned to see a fuzzy, white poodle drooling on a strappy, white-leather sandal. On seeing Taylor, the poodle clutched her prize tighter in her mouth.
“Give me that,” Taylor demanded, swiping her hand at the shoe. But the dog only growled and backed away toward the door. “Where do you think you’re going?” Taylor shrieked at the tiny thief. “That shoe cost more than you.”
The poodle ducked through the slightly opened bedroom door and scooted into the hallway, with Taylor close on her heels. Once out the door, Taylor looked both ways down the quiet upstairs hallway. But neither the sandal nor the canine culprit was in sight. She tiptoed over the wooden floor, making her way toward the stairs. A door suddenly creaked very softly at the end of the hallway.
“I’ve got you now,” she cried, whipping around down the hall toward the sound. She crept toward the cracked door; she was certain that behind that door the dog would be hiding with her leather sandal.
“Hello,” she whispered, knocking gently on the door. Pushing it open slowly, she saw that the door led to the foot of a narrow staircase leading to the attic. She heard Dixie above the staircase, growling in victory as she gnawed on the shoe’s high heel. “I’m going to get you,” Taylor called out and stomped up the stairs, fuming with anger. As Taylor’s eyes peeked above the top step, she saw Dixie mauling the shoe. The straps were strewn across the attic floor. “You crazy dog,” she hissed, lunging at Dixie. The white poodle whined and backed into the dark shadows of a corner. “Get out here,” Taylor demanded.
The attic was cramped and a bit dim. One lone, small, round window looked out over the ocean. Next to the window sat an old twin mattress with a tattered blanket spread across it. In the middle sat a lifeless doll, staring at the ceiling, her hands tied behind her back with twine. “Oh my gosh,” said Taylor, stepping toward the mattress.
Behind her, Dixie escaped from the shadows and raced down the steps. As Taylor backed away, a sharp pain pinched her bare right foot. She winced in pain. “What was that?” she asked aloud, bending to look at the floor.
Squinting to see in the poor light of the attic, she picked up what she’d stepped on. She looked carefully at what she held in her fingers. “Yikes! It’s a tooth!” she screamed, dropping it to the floor, where it bounced away into the shadows. Below her, she could hear the attic door creak. “Hello?” she asked. She waited in silence, but heard no reply. Grabbing the sandal pieces from the floor, she flew down the narrow steps and back into the second-floor hallway where Dixie was waiting for her, the dog’s tail wagging happily.
Taylor patted the dog’s head gently. “Where’s Granny?” she whispered to Dixie.
Dixie scampered down the hallway past the guest bedrooms to the grand staircase leading to the first floor, with Taylor close behind. The poodle dared not stop until she found the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon in her food bowl outweighing any repercussion Taylor could wreak upon her.
“This isn’t over, missy,” Taylor promised the pooch, holding her sandal in the air above the dog’s head.
Dixie growled a short reply as Taylor left her to lick up the bacon scraps. Throwing open the screen door to the porch, Taylor found Alexandra and Granny June sitting together on the porch swing.
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” Taylor said, “but you wouldn’t happen to have a werewolf renting a room in your attic would you, Granny June?” Taylor stomped toward the swing in her bare feet, her hands mindlessly waving the shredded sandal back and forth in the air.
“Taylor? What is wrong with you?” Alexandra scolded.
“I found that mongrel eating my shoe in the attic,” said Taylor. “And because I didn’t have any shoes on up there, I stepped on a tooth. A fang, actually.”
“Show it to me,” demanded Alexandra.
“I can’t,” Taylor answered. “It’s still in the attic.”
“Girls, calm down,” hushed Granny June. Alexandra and Taylor both looked at her in silence.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but this trip is turning into a freak show,” Taylor said fuming, her hands planted on her hips as her foot patted the porch impatiently. “I mean— have you seen my car? And now this,” she said, holding her mangled sandal in one hand and pointing her bleeding toe up in the air.
“I’m sorry you hurt your foot, Taylor,” said Granny June sympathetically. “I rarely go in that room; it’s only used for storage. I don’t know why the door would have been unlocked.”
“It is okay, Granny June,” huffed Taylor as she sat down on the swing beside Alexandra and used a napkin from the breakfast table to dab at her toe.
“Do you need stitches, Taylor?” asked Alexandra, scowling at her pouting friend.
“No,” insisted Taylor. Then she whispered into Alexandra’s ear, “But we’re going back up there later so you can see it, too.”
“It’s going to be a beautiful day, girls,” said Granny June with a bit of forced cheerfulness. “You can go down to the beach or over to the marina. I’ve already phoned to tell them that the boat should be made ready for a sail—if you should so choose.” She smiled.
Sensing the irritation in her grandmother’s voice, Alexandra jumped up from the porch swing and headed toward the kitchen door. “Breakfast was delicious,” she said.
“Looks like we’re going to get dressed now,” said Taylor rising slowly, careful to place her injured toe lightly on the porch.
“I think we’re going to go out for a while,” Alexandra called to her grandmother as she helped Taylor hobble through the door.