Prologue
The wind blew tendrils of Aleta’s hair around her face as she closed her eyes, breathing in the clear ocean air. She took a step closer to the water, feeling the waves begin to wash over her toes. Aleta loved this place; the breeze, the waves, the wind. This was where her father always took her, before that day. Before the sadness and grief came, before the darkness entered her heart, before her mother stopped talking to her.
She turned to pick up the music box from her father. A tear escaped and dripped off her nose; three more followed. She had been crying a lot lately, but she tried not to. She hated to cry. Her father would have wanted her to stay strong.
She wiped the tears away and opened the music box, concentrating hard on the spell. Her father had made it special for her, binding it with a spell only they knew. The hana lit up with a bright pink-tinged light. The top slowly opened and “You Light up My Life” began to play. Inside the box was a little dancing figure, with Aleta’s exact features; it had always grown and changed just as she did. It danced and waved at her. There was also a shiny pink seashell, a strip of lace from her mother’s wedding dress, a silver hair band from her aunt, a small leather-bound book from her uncle, and a picture of her mother and father on their wedding day. She stared at the photo, the last photo of her father after her mother’s rampage. She sighed and hummed along to the music, closing her eyes.
Suddenly she jolted, and the music box snapped shut. She opened her eyes. Her mother was gripping her arm, dragging her out of the room.
“Mommy? What’s wrong?” she asked.
Her mother didn’t answer, but picked up some suitcases, heading for the door of her aunt’s house. Her aunt, Ade, stepped in front of the door just as her mother reached for the handle.
“Sarelle. Think about what you’re doing. I know this is hard on you,” Aunt Ade began, her eyes pleading.
Sarelle pushed her out of the way. “Magic brings nothing but pain. I will not have my daughter brought up in this world,” said Sarelle, and she opened the door, slamming it shut behind her.
…
Aleta opened her eyes. The hotel room was dark, with only a few rays of sunlight leaking in through the heavy curtains. She blinked and got up.
“Mommy?” she called, walking toward the closest door and opening it.
It was a bathroom, with a small sink, toilet, and even a bathtub; the shower curtain was closed. She reached slowly for the curtain, a terrible feeling washing over her. She pulled it aside; and screamed. It was her mother: body limp, face pale, eyes staring vacantly at the far wall.
“M-mom…?” she whispered.
Suddenly her mother made a gasping noise. Aleta leaped backwards.
“Aleta…come…closer…” Sarelle gasped out, her words choked with pain.
Aleta crept tentatively towards her mother. Sarelle reached out a shaking hand, touching Aleta’s temple lightly with her fingertips; Aleta flinched slightly. Instantly, a warmth spread from Aleta’s scalp, all through her body. Her legs gave out and she sank to the floor. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the warmth left her.
A door crashed in the distance, voices yelled; she barely heard. Feeling dizzy, she looked up as a man stomped into the room. He saw her mother and walked to her, checking her pulse.
“Dead...” he muttered, pulling out his cell phone. He dialed 9-1-1, then noticed Aleta. “Little girl, is this your mother? What happened here?” he asked her.
She stared up at him blankly.
“I-I don’t remember.”
