They Who from the Heavens Came (The Wisdom, #1)
Chapter 9

Gwen drove the girls home in a rental car. She dropped Devon off first, and then Itzy. When they pulled up outside the house, she turned off the ignition and twisted in the driver’s seat to face her niece. ‘Itz,’ she said. ‘Will you be alright?’

Itzy shrugged off the concern. ‘I’m fine, now. I told you. I just needed to…get things out of my system, I guess.’

‘All over Oz,’ Gwen added with a slight grin. ‘I know that must have been hard for you. But you did it.’ She leaned over and squeezed Itzy’s hand. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

That was when Itzy finally cried. The tears spilled like Iguazu Falls, unstoppable. Gwen unbuckled her seatbelt and moved closer. She took her in her arms and held her as Itzy flooded the upholstery with her sorrow.

Gwen stroked her hair like Myra used to do when Itzy was very small. The thought of her mother made it worse, and she sobbed even harder.

It was over half an hour before Itzy recovered herself. It wasn’t so much that she felt better, but that she’d run out of energy. She was suddenly too exhausted to cry.

She pulled away and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. When she licked her lips, she could taste her own salt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

Gwen’s brows knitted together. ‘You always feel guilty for something. It’s not healthy.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Itzy said again, but her mouth twitched so her aunt knew she was teasing.

‘Do you want me to walk you to the door?’ Gwen offered.

Itzy shook her head and sniffed. ‘No. I’m alright, really.’ She drew up her mouth in the shape of a smile that was almost convincing. She stepped out of the car and hunched down a little so she could see her aunt through the open door. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘I love you, Itzy.’

‘I love you, too.’

‘And I know I’m far away,’ Gwen said, ‘but at heart, I’m always with you.’

‘I know.’

‘I’ll ring you in a few days, if you like. See how you’re doing….’

Itzy tried for another smile. ‘I’d like that. Thanks. Have a safe journey.’ She closed the car door and watched as her aunt drove away to her hotel.

Itzy let out a long sigh and walked up the path to her house. It was an old mock-Tudor building, white crisscrossed with black. The lights were off, but her mother’s car was out front, a blue Hyundai on its last legs that would probably cost more to repair than replace.

Itzy fumbled in her bag for her house key. When she found it, she unlocked the white PVC door and heaved herself inside. She kicked off her painful black heels, not caring where they landed.

She was met with an alcoholic aroma that made her feel sick all over again. She moved quickly past the kitchen and turned a corner. She was about to mount the staircase when she spotted her mother on the sofa, in the living room. She was snoring obnoxiously amidst a sea of empty bottles.

Itzy decided she just couldn’t do this anymore. How had this become her life? How had she accepted it?

Some small part of her had always thought perhaps one day her father would change, would get help, get better, and then they could be friends. Maybe. Now he was gone forever and she would never know what could have been. Her mother seemed past hope. Gwen would go home, thousands of miles away, and then what would Itzy be left with?

It would just be her.

She felt trapped. Her breath grew short and frantic. The frightening truth about being Stephen Loveguard’s daughter was that she was prone to her own mood swings – and she felt on the verge of a dangerous one, now. She was suddenly very sure that if she didn’t get out right then, she might do something she would later regret.

She shoved her feet into a pair of trainers without thinking and hurled herself out of the house.

Despite being summer, the air was cool. She inhaled deeply, desperately – and broke into a run. Her feet pounded on the pavement. The black satin shoulder bag she’d worn at the funeral slid down her arm and bounced against her legs, but she hardly noticed. It felt so good to let out the tension.

Some time later, she found herself out of breath and wandering up a street she didn’t recognise. She rummaged through her bag for her mobile and whipped it out. She opened a maps app and checked her location. Apparently, she was about half a mile from her house.

She relaxed and decided to walk. It was a nice evening. In London, in July, the sun would hold its place in the sky until late, sometimes not receding until 11 at night. It was 8 now, so it was still bright out, though the sky had taken on a pinkish tint and a breeze was picking up. She had no jacket with her, though, and her arms and legs were bare around her knee-length dress. She shivered each time the air struck her skin.

Something brushed her leg and made her jump. She looked down to replace a rather elegant cat right out of an old Egyptian wall painting, staring up at her with large golden eyes. It bore a look of intelligence, like it knew who she was.

But that was crazy.

‘Hey, puss,’ she said.

She squatted on the pavement and reached out to pet the animal. It had a rich reddish-brown coat, soft but not too thick. Its body was long and slender, its neck tall and its ears sort of pointed. Its face was angular and exotic, not like any English housecat Itzy had ever seen before. She stroked the cat’s neck and brought up its name tag.

‘Eurydice,’ she read aloud.

She shuddered. The name reminded her of her father’s books on mythology. It seemed she was never going to escape him.

She pet Eurydice a little longer. When her legs started to fall asleep, she stood and resumed walking.

Eurydice followed her.

As an experiment, Itzy hurried her pace.

Eurydice hurried, too.

This is insane, Itzy thought. I am not being followed by a cat.

And she wasn’t – at least, not anymore, because Eurydice flew ahead and was now walking in front of her, leading her somewhere.

No, no, that’s even crazier.

But it felt true. Itzy followed the cat, wondering where it could possibly be taking her. Then she froze at the sound of a familiar voice. Two, in fact.

Her heart raced. How could it be? It was like someone was playing a painful joke on her.

She ducked behind a tall chestnut tree before the two boys could see her. They were sitting on a short white wall that surrounded the front garden of a small sky blue mid-terrace house.

‘Stop it,’ Oz was saying.

‘Grumble, grumble,’ Seth replied. ‘Now watch this.’

Itzy leaned sideways and peered around the tree. What she saw was impossible. More than impossible.

Seth was drawing in the air. He had taken off his mourning suit and now wore a black short-sleeved t-shirt over dark jeans. His tanned arms moved gracefully through the breeze that rushed over them. His bright eyes were heavy with concentration, like a real painter.

Then an apple dropped out of nothing and bounced off Oz’s head.

Oz jumped and scowled. ‘Bloody hell, Seth,’ he said. He rubbed his head. ‘What if the neighbours saw?’

‘Huh,’ said Seth. ‘I wonder if that’s what they said when Isaac Newton discovered gravity.’

He hopped off the wall and knelt down to pick up the apple where it had landed. He held it up for inspection. It was red and shiny, almost too perfect to be real. He dusted it off on his shirt and sank his teeth into it. He looked pleased with himself.

‘It’s really good. Want some?’ He extended it to his friend.

Oz pushed Seth’s hand away. ‘No, I do not.’

That was the moment Eurydice chose to bite Itzy behind the tree. She yelped in surprise and stumbled into view – then realised the boys were staring at her. Eurydice bounded over to Oz like he was an old friend.

‘Itzel,’ Oz made out, shock stamped on his face. He sounded like her mother, the way he used her full name. She hated it.

Well, there was no point in hiding anymore. Itzy walked right up to them and glared at her brother. ‘Your stupid cat bit me.’

Seth smirked and glanced down at Itzy’s ankle, where she was touching the mark. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him eying her legs like that.

‘She’s not stupid,’ Oz said. ‘But if you say things like that, I’m not surprised she bit you.’

Itzy threw her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. ‘I thought you lived in Kent.’

Oz’s face hadn’t lost that look of suspicion, but he said, ‘I’m nineteen. Thought it was time to move out. Seth was renting and needed a housemate, so…here I am.’ He gestured at the street.

‘Less than a mile away from me,’ Itzy informed him.

Oz stared at her like she had dropped out of the sky, like Seth’s apple. And speaking of that –

Itzy turned her focus on Seth. ‘How did you do that?’ she startled him out of his examination of her.

Seth pretended to be confused. ‘Do what?’

Oz rolled his eyes at his friend. ‘The apple,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘She saw you. Just like I told you someone would.’

‘Oh, that,’ Seth said. He cocked his head to one side. A wisp of blond hair fell in his eyes. ‘Would you believe me if I said it was a magic trick?’

Itzy shook her head. She didn’t believe him at all. Because – well –

‘I can do that, too,’ she blurted before she could stop herself.

Oz narrowed his eyes at her in mistrust and said, ‘He didn’t do anything,’ at the same time that Seth said, ‘What can you do?’

‘Seth,’ Oz hissed at him.

Seth shrugged right up to his ears and splayed his hands, palm up, as if to say, What do you expect?

‘I – I can’t just do it,’ Itzy said. ‘I mean, I can’t make it happen on demand. Not like – you.’

She expected Seth to be disappointed, but all he said was, ‘What do you mean you can’t make it happen?’ He sounded like there was something he knew but he was unsure if he should share it with her, yet.

Itzy breathed in deeply. The only people she’d ever talked to about this before were Devon and Ash. But how could she not tell someone who had just done something similar? Even if her brother was glaring at her like he was waiting for her to trip and fall over.

‘I can…I write,’ she said. She looked down at her hands with their misshapen fingernails.

‘That’s it?’ Oz scoffed. His tone seemed to say, Why are we wasting our time with you? But she could feel Seth still watching her, waiting for her to impress them.

‘I write stories,’ Itzy said with more volume. ‘And sometimes something comes over me – I don’t know what it is – and later, whatever I’ve written…I think it comes true.’

She slowly lifted her gaze. When she met the boys’ eyes, Oz’s face displayed disbelief, while Seth’s showed something that might have been…faith.

Then Seth turned to Oz and said, ‘Well, she is your sister.’

‘Seth,’ Oz whispered, seething. ‘For once in your life, shut up.’

Seth put up his hands in surrender. ‘I’m just saying.’

‘You’re lying,’ Oz accused his sister.

He slipped off the wall and took a step forward. Itzy might have been seventeen, but she felt more like seven under her brother’s harsh glare.

She struggled to replace her voice. ‘I’m not.’

‘Prove it,’ he said. He crossed his arms over his chest in challenge.

‘I told you. I can’t just do it. Not like – him.’ She gestured at Seth. ‘It doesn’t happen every time I write. Sometimes my stories are just stories. But other times, it’s like I go into a sort of….’

‘Trance,’ Seth finished for her. Curiosity glowed in his pale eyes.

Her own dark eyes flew to him in gratitude. ‘Yes. Yes, exactly. And then….’ She trailed off, unable to put the rest into words but hoping they understood her meaning.

Seth looked askance at his friend. ‘Oz.’

Oz squeezed his eyes shut in irritation and turned for the house. ‘Fine,’ he said, ‘you want her as a pet, she’s all yours. But if I end up having to feed her, she’s out.’ Then he disappeared inside.

Seth looked amused. It was hard to imagine anything getting him down.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked on his heels. Then he grinned at Itzy and said, ‘Mayan.’ When she didn’t reply, he clarified, ‘Your name. Itzel. Isn’t it Mayan?’

She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Her bag slipped down and she caught it before it could fall to the ground. ‘Actually, it’s Itzy. Itzel just sounds like…I dunno. I don’t really like it.’

Seth’s grin widened, if that were at all possible. ‘Itzy,’ he repeated slowly, like he was savouring the sound. ‘Cute.’

He stared at her. It made Itzy want to check she was still dressed. A new breeze flew over them, and she quickly ran her hands up and down her shoulders.

‘You cold?’ Seth asked.

‘No,’ she lied.

Seth laughed. He dashed his hands through the air and she found her funeral dress replaced with jeans and a blood-red tank top. She still wore the trainers, but they were clean.

She gave him a guarded look. ‘Ta…but couldn’t you have given me some sleeves?’

He shrugged. ‘I like your arms.’ He nodded his head in the direction of their front door. ‘Come inside.’

‘But Oz –’

‘Forget Oz. He’ll get over it. Besides, you heard what he said. You’re my pet, now.’ The grin returned to his face.

Itzy felt hesitant, but curious. She had wondered about her brother for seven years. Now, she found herself faced with the opportunity to enter his sphere of existence, at last.

Besides, she’d just watched Seth conjure an apple out of thin air. How could she not follow him into the house?

‘Alright,’ she agreed.

Seth smiled like she’d made the right choice. Then he took her hand and pulled her in.