Page 7 of Crystal Iris #1

Five

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” – Michelangelo

M y head was pounding. I lift my hands to my forehead and feel a bandage. “Easy…” I hear Aaron’s voice, soothing but firm.

“What happened?” I struggle to ask, my voice a little weak.

I try to make sense of my surroundings. I’m in a bed—someone else’s bed.

Akira’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Oh my God! I’m so glad to see you’re awake!”

I try to sit up, but Aaron gently urges me back down. “Easy. Just stay put.”

“Why am I here?” I manage to ask both of them. The room is unfamiliar, but the clothes strewn across the chair tell me I must be in Akira’s room. She always moved a lot. I hadn’t made it to this place yet. I was still studying the space when Aaron spoke again.

“I have to leave for Toronto tonight,” he says, his tone unreadable. “I’ll be gone a couple of days. I didn’t want to leave you alone. You need rest, and?—”

“What happened?” I interrupt, my voice sharp despite the fog in my brain.

“There was a fire in the apartment,” he says, his eyes shadowed with concern.

“Luckily, the building was built to handle it. The sprinklers must’ve kicked in fast, so nothing really burned—just a corner of the couch.

I think you passed out from the smoke, though.

Probably hit your head on the way down.”

Akira jumps in. “They found a candle.”

Memories flood back in fragments. I start to shake my head, denying it.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Aaron says quickly. “I know you wouldn’t burn the place down, Iris.”

He had no idea. Was all that real? I reach up to touch my head. Of course not. I had hit my head—it explains everything. It had to.

“Akira has been telling me all kinds of things about this necklace of yours. Should I be worried?”

I instinctively reach for my neck, panicked, searching for the necklace. I feel my fingers graze the chain. It’s still there.

They’re both watching me, waiting for something—waiting for me to say something.

“What?” I ask, my voice tight.

“I told you she can’t take it off,” Akira says, speaking to Aaron like I’m not even in the room. Were they talking about me behind my back?

“Of course I can,” I snap, my voice rising. “I just don’t want to. My mother gave it to me. You both have no idea what it’s like to not have a mother!” I’m yelling now, my frustration bubbling over.

Aaron’s expression softens, regret flashing in his eyes. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I was so worried when they called me, Iris.”

I pull my hand away from his, my chest tight. “I want to go home.”

“They’re still going over the insurance policy,” Aaron says, his voice steady but concerned. “We can go back in a couple of days.”

“That place is not my home!” I don’t know why I said it, but the words sting. I can see the hurt in his eyes, and it makes my stomach churn. But I don’t take them back.

I’m alone in my half-packed apartment, surrounded by boxes, trying to figure out what to do next when my phone rings. Aaron again. My heart sinks. I didn’t handle things well yesterday. He left for Canada right after dropping me off here, and now I know I owe him an apology.

I’ve taken a sick day from work, though I definitely need more than just one day to sort through everything. I left Akira’s place without even saying thank you. I’m a mess.

I pick up my phone and text Akira: I’m sorry. You might be right. Is your offer to help with the necklace still standing?

We are on our way to Salem. I laughed out loud when Akira mentioned the healer she knew lived there. Shockingly, she wasn’t kidding. Apparently, the whole town was in need of “healing.” Whatever that meant.

I can’t help but think this is some kind of joke.

I don’t really care because I’m not actually doing this to get rid of an evil spirit like Akira is making my case out to be—I’m doing it because I want my friend back, and if this is what it takes, fine.

I’m not afraid; whatever the prism is, nothing or no one can stop it.

We arrived at the hotel with plans to meet the healer at seven.

The drive here gave us a chance to catch up a little—talking about the wedding, work, but in the back of my mind, I know I’m hiding too much.

I hate lying to Akira, but I have no idea how to explain everything.

Whatever happened with the fire, whatever I saw that night, and whoever that man was—it’s still haunting me. Perhaps I do need the healer after all.

When Akira stepped out of the car to fill the tank, I pulled out my phone and texted Aaron: Decided to go on a girl’s trip with Akira ; I think it will be good for me. Sorry for everything, we’ll talk when I get back.

We dropped our bags off at the hotel and headed out to grab a bite before our appointment.

The quaint town is exactly how I imagined: cute little shops selling trinkets and souvenirs, begging tourists to buy into what they are known for: witches.

Although the locals don’t seem to remember their own history.

They all look too busy with their mundane lives to act any differently.

I would have liked the town if something otherworldly wasn’t actually happening to me.

It feels like the entire place is mocking me.

“So, how do you actually know this person?” I ask, squirting ketchup onto my fries, trying to distract myself from the unease creeping up my spine.

“I don’t,” Akira replies, her mouth full.

I stare at her. “You don’t? Then how…?”

“I found him online,” she says with a grin.

I choke on my food. “You what?!”

“Relax, he came highly recommended.” Akira continues eating as though she hasn’t just shocked me to the core.

“By who? Online lunatics?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Look, I did my research,” she says nonchalantly. “He seemed legit.” She takes a sip of her beer.

I shake my head, still stunned. “I can’t believe I let you drag me all the way here to see, at best, a charlatan.” I scan the restaurant for the waitress. I need something stronger than fries and ketchup right now.

The cab drops us off in front of a house that’s clearly old, but not in a haunted way—just the kind of building that looks like it has stories to tell. Akira and I both stare at it for a moment, and the driver, sensing our hesitation, asks if we’re getting out.

I’m still taking in the place, trying to decide if I’m really ready to go through with this. We have no idea who’s inside. This was such a bad idea.

“We should go back to the hotel,” I say, looking at her.

Akira is already getting out of the cab, giving me a reassuring nod. “Whatever the necklace is, it’s worse than anything that could be inside,” she says. She’s out of her mind.

“You know, we’re asking for trouble here,” I say, following her.

We stand there for a moment, the cold air of Salem brushing against my skin, making me feel more alive and alert than I’ve felt in days. I’m not sure if it’s the cold or the anxiety of what’s about to happen, but I’m ready for answers—or at least something to make sense of all this chaos.

She rings the bell. I eye the street, making mental notes of the neighbors in case… well, in case it’s needed.

The person who opens the door is not who we expect.

Not that I know exactly what to expect, but I definitely didn’t expect her.

The teenage girl looks us up and down, from head to toe.

She’s wearing a T-shirt with a band I don’t recognize.

She looks completely… ordinary. She opens the door wider and motions for us to come in.

“My dad’s in the kitchen.”

Lloyd is a short man in his sixties. He’s bald, wearing glasses far too large for his bony face, and dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. Again, ordinary. The inside of the house? Ditto.

“Please, take a seat,” he says, pouring all of us a cup of tea. There’s no way I’m going to drink anything here. Akira, though, seems completely at ease, which makes it harder to read what she’s thinking.

“Thank you for seeing us,” she says, blowing on the tea. She better not be thinking about?—

And she does. She actually takes a sip.

I jump toward her, trying to stop her, almost spilling the whole thing on us.

“Trust issues?” Lloyd asks calmly .

I glance at Akira. Is she losing it?

“How does this work?” she changes the subject, unfazed.

“You’ve got nothing to fear,” Lloyd continues. “That’s why I let my daughter open the door. As you can see, I’m just a father.”

I listen carefully, trying to hear if the girl is still around. It helps to know there’s someone else in the house.

“Where did you guys come from?” Lloyd asks, clearly curious.

“None of your business,” Akira replies coolly, taking another sip of her tea. I tense, watching her. She looks... okay.

“I grew up in Salem,” he says, his voice turning wistful.

“It’s a shame what they’ve done to this town.

Dismissing our heritage. People’s greed turned what was once something sacred into a gift shop.

There’s a clear divide here: those who think witches were just misjudged women and that the occult is all myths, even though they’re fine profiting from it.

Then there are those who know the truth. ”

He’s about to keep going when I cut him off.

“Right. So what does that have to do with my necklace?”

Lloyd smiles, his eyes glinting with something I can’t place. “May I see it?” He gestures toward the necklace with his hand.

“I’m not taking it off,” I say, placing my hand protectively over it.

“Iris!” Akira gestures for me to hand it over.

“You don’t have to take it off, but I need to touch it. To know.” he says, extending his hand.

I hesitate. I lean over the table, and just as his hand gets an inch away, a sharp pain shoots through my head. I gasp, and Akira quickly helps me sit back down.

“I see,” Lloyd says, taking another sip of his tea, his gaze never leaving the prism. “How did you come across it?”

“It was a gift,” I answer, still feeling the lingering pain.

“So, how do we fix it?” Akira asks, concern edging her voice.

“There’s nothing I can do,” he tells us.

“What?” Akira stands up, her voice rising .

“I’ll give your money back,” he offers.

“I don’t want my money back,” Akira snaps. “I want you to fix it.” She shoves her chair backward in frustration.

“Some energies are best left… undisturbed,” he says softly.

Akira slumps back into her chair, exhaling a frustrated breath.

“I recommend you get rid of it and never look back, while you still can.” He looks directly at me now.

“What do you mean, ‘while she still can’?” Akira grabs my arm, her voice urgent.

“When I sense a lingering entity or energy,” he continues, “I can often convince it to go elsewhere. Sometimes they just need a nudge, a reminder to let go. Other times, I need to offer something to incentivize the transfer. Whatever is in that necklace, though—it has no intention of leaving. In fact, it’s the opposite. ”

I swallow hard.

“Do you hear him?” Akira practically pleads. “You have to get rid of it.”

“And what if I don’t?” I turn to Lloyd, challenging him.

“Then I suggest you learn to control it. Or else.” His voice hardens.

“Is it possible? To control it?” I ask, my voice quieter now, my mind racing.

“All in the universe is energy,” Lloyd replies.

“Some believe controlling it is our original and only purpose. But to do so, you’ll have to fight your senses.

Go against everything you’ve ever known to be true.

If you’re willing to go that far, to lose your sanity for the sake of something greater, then yes, everything is possible.

Including mastering the mystique of life. ”

I sit in bed, watching my friend drink.

“This isn’t a movie, Iris,” Akira says, her tone sharp. “This won’t end well.” She’s leaning back against the pillows, sipping from a mini vodka bottle. I feel too queasy to partake.

“I can do this,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “You heard the guy, it’s possible to control it.” But... is it?

“Oh, now you trust him?” Akira raises an eyebrow. “The online charlatan? Isn’t that what you called him?”

“I said that before I met him.”

“I’m pretty sure he said you would lose your mind before learning to… manage this thing. Shit, this conversation is making me lose mine already.”

“Figure of speech.”

“Was it?” She stops looking at me.

“It’s worth trying,” I say, lying down on the bed.

“Is it? Because you could have died in the fire.”

“That fire had nothing to do with my necklace,” I lie, both to her and to myself.

“Right.” She takes another long sip. “It hurts to know that you don’t trust me.”

I feel the sting of her words. Aside from Aaron, she’s my closest friend.

“Of course I trust you.” I move to sit next to her on her bed.

“Then why don’t you tell me the truth? Why can’t you get rid of this thing?”

I take two deep breaths. I brace myself, and then I tell her everything. I tell her about the letter, the times I’ve seen it light up, about Darion, the night of the fire, and even the guy. I expect her to be shocked, but surprisingly, her response is gentle.

“And all that doesn’t freak you out?” she asks, her voice soft.

“No, maybe it should, but it doesn’t. I know it sounds completely nuts, but I feel like the energy in it is… good.”

She grabs my hand. “Okay, then.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to keep asking me to burn it? ”

“This whole thing scares the shit out of me, but I’m not going to let you do this alone. I’m here if you need me.”

“Crazy or not?”

“Crazy or not.”

“Thank you.”

I finally sleep through the night.

I wait for him to open the door when I ring the bell.

“Why are you ringing the bell?” Aaron asks, looking handsome. There’s something about him in gym clothes, sweaty after a workout, that turns me on.

“I wasn’t sure if I should use my keys.”

“Iris, this is your home.” My hateful words hang between us.

“I know. I’m sorry for what I said; I didn’t mean it.”

He walks to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, and I follow him.

“Aaron, I’m sorry.”

He comes closer and kisses me lightly. His lips taste salty. He pulls back and asks, “How was your trip? Where did you even go?”

“Salem.”

He spits his water. “What the hell? That’s your idea of fun?”

“Well, Akira’s idea.”

He laughs. “And did you? Have fun?”

“I did, actually.”

“Then I’m glad you went.”

There’s so much left unsaid, but I can tell neither of us is ready to confront it. Instead, we fill the silence with casual dinner plans, pretending everything is fine.