Sapphire Shade

By Ann Serafini

What if human beings are merely the ancestors of a highly intelligent master race, called the Ikhälea, which controls everything in the universe from dreams to the afterlife? When it is discovered that the balance of evolution has been upset and the people of Earth are on a path to eventual self-destruction, a young Irish immigrant learns that she is only one who can save humanity from extinction.

Twenty-one-year-old Asiah O’Connor, the youngest daughter of a poor Irish fisherman, received a peculiar portent on the passage from Ireland to America nearly nine years ago. Now, as the country suffers through the Great Depression, Asiah has all but forgotten about the fleeting premonition until she meets a dark stranger one windy afternoon in Chicago.

Chase Brandon, the only remaining Ikhälean Conjurer on Earth, nearly stumbles over the beautiful young woman for whom he’s been searching for over seven centuries in the middle of a busy street. He is exhilarated at first that, in finding her, his mission is nearly complete and his long, desolate existence is finally at an end.

While Asiah comes to terms with her new destiny, she must decide between the two men in her life: her wealthy fiancé, Walter, who promises to support her struggling family through the economic crisis, and the mysterious sorcerer whose touch sets her skin on fire. With his death imminent, Chase also must choose between his unexpected feelings for Asiah and his sacred duty to instruct her in the ancient arts of the Ikhälea.

Told from alternating points of view, this first installment in the romantic fantasy series about ill-fated love travels from Chicago’s underground speakeasies to a dodgy insane asylum, to a secluded cottage where magic isn’t just a myth, it is the key to humanity’s survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann Serafini
• Release date: Oct 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310947261

Book preview

Sapphire Shade

Book One

Copyright © 2014 by Ann Serafini

All rights reserved. No part of this book (whether print or electronic edition) may be reproduced in any form without the express written consent of Ann Serafini.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For Andrew, whose support is unwavering, as always.

And for Sarah, who gave me the confidence to keep writing.

Prologue

June, 1924

Port of Galway, Ireland

The ocean liner was the biggest boat Asiah had ever seen in all her 12 years. The main deck towered overhead as she mounted the gangplank for the transatlantic voyage. The ship gleamed with a new coat of white paint, and she could see the name of the ship carefully stenciled in black letters near the bow. She leaned her head back as far as she could to marvel at the great smokestacks and stumbled backward into her brother, Monty.

Oi! Careful, Cricket, or you’ll be lunch for the sharks! Monty chuckled.

Will not! ‘Sides, I can swim just fine! Asiah stuck her tongue out at her older brother, righted herself, straightened the god-awful dress Mother had made her wear and stomped up the ramp.

C’mon, Asiah, let’s go look off the bow of the ship and see if we can see America! shouted Merica, Asiah’s twin sister, as she bounded up the ramp.

She won’t be so excited once we’re underway, Asiah thought, recalling her sister’s tendency toward motion sickness. Meri and their older sister, Maryn, had always had trouble riding the ferry from the mainland to Inishmor, their island home off the coast of Ireland. Asiah had never had trouble and seemed to have the sea-legs of a pirate captain, according to her father. She loved the sea. She couldn’t understand how one could grow up on a stormy island in the North Atlantic and not love the ocean.

Her father’s name was Patrick O’Connor. He was a fisherman on Inishmor, as was his father before him. At 19, Monty was following in Father’s footsteps, but Asiah got the feeling that Monty wanted his life to take a different turn. Father had recently decided that there was more opportunity in America than on their little island, so he packed their meager possessions and bought them all third-class tickets aboard the Mermaid set to sail for Boston. Asiah knew that Father had spent all he had for tickets for a family of six to cross the sea. She hoped he was right and that he’d be able to find work soon so they wouldn’t be living on the street when they reached America. Asiah was aware that her family didn’t have very much money, but Father said things would be better in Boston.

As much as the voyage to America excited her, Asiah wasn’t particularly thrilled about leaving her remote island home. On Inishmor she did as she pleased, much to Mother’s chagrin. Her siblings and she had never attended a proper school, but were taught to read and write at home. They learned about history and mathematics, but what Asiah was really interested in was science. She wanted to know everything that couldn’t be easily explained by her mother’s favorite phrase: That’s just the way things are. Asiah wanted to know why the tides came in and went out and why the moon changed shape every night. She wanted to know why the grass was green and how caterpillars became butterflies.

Mother didn’t know much about science, so Asiah learned everything she knew by observing nature. She would lie on her back for hours looking at different types of clouds. While most children would look for animal shapes in the clouds, Asiah would draw them as they were and include notes on her sketches about how high she thought the clouds were or if they were likely to mean rain.

Mother and Father didn’t seem to mind her wanderings but were never too pleased when she would bring home tokens from her adventures like frogs or large beetles. Meri was going to be a fine lady someday and took much delight in tattling on Asiah whenever she was up to no good. Father would just shake his head and say how he never would have had another child if he’d known twin girls were on the way.

Asiah didn’t know what to expect in America. Would she have to go to school? That would be alright if she was allowed to learn about science. She liked school. Sometimes she thought there just wasn’t enough room in her brain to soak up all the information she wanted to know. Would they live in a city or in the country? She hoped they would live in the country so she could go exploring. She hadn’t learned much about America yet from her studies, but it was widely known to be a land of opportunity.

As the ship slowly navigated out of the harbor, Asiah felt the familiar sea breeze ruffle her hair. The sun was out today, which was a nice change from the usual clouds she was used to seeing this time of year. She only had a moment to enjoy the feeling before Mother scolded her for removing her hair ribbons.

I suppose you want a rat’s nest on your head then? Aileen O’Connor was a no-nonsense Irishwoman who worked tirelessly to raise four children, three of whom were girls and three of whom behaved as well-mannered children should. She efficiently plaited Asiah’s wavy chestnut hair into two braids and tied them tightly with blue ribbons. That’s better, then! Now go find your berth with your sister!

I want to watch as we cast off! Asiah complained. Just because Meri was going to have a rough time didn’t mean she had to stay below with her.

Now, I don’t want any back-talk from you, young lady! Your sister can’t be left alone down there. Now go on!

"I’m not a lady," Asiah muttered.

What was that? Mother raised her eyebrows in challenge.

Nothing, Mother. Asiah trudged off toward the stairwell that led down to their cabin and stole one last glance over her shoulder at the endless sea ahead of them. In that instant she felt a premonition. A feeling that something amazing lay ahead, just out of reach. She reeled for a moment trying to understand what she was feeling, and just like that the feeling passed. She shook her head and followed Meri down the winding staircase.

Chapter One

September, 1931

Chicago

The wind was especially gusty the afternoon Asiah’s life changed forever. She hurried east down North Avenue carrying a stack of books for Mr. Kelsey, the druggist. A particularly virulent flu season was in full swing and Mr. Kelsey had Asiah running around like crazy in an attempt to collect as much information as she could to help the people afflicted with the virus. Traditional medicines didn’t seem to help, but Mr. Kelsey was known for his effective home remedies.

Asiah had been working for him since last summer after she finished high school. She had tried desperately to save enough money to go to college, but only a handful of schools accepted women into their science programs and none of them was in Chicago. She’d been accepted by a school in Missouri, but a last-minute tuition increase caused by the Depression left her with no options. Frustrated, Asiah took a job with Mr. Kelsey, who proved to be a valuable mentor with his extensive knowledge of chemistry and medicine.

Her parents made several attempts to marry her off to wealthy businessmen as soon as college was no longer an option. Asiah turned down every offer and dodged every dinner date her parents set up for her. She knew they only wanted her to marry for money so they could benefit as well. The Depression had hit her family hard. The men her parents introduced her to were all scoundrels to boot. They were only interested in her because of her beauty, and she would not be some rich man’s trophy.

Asiah never thought much about her appearance, even though she was constantly told how pretty she was. She assumed that’s what people said when they had nothing substantial to add to a conversation. She had long brown hair that reached all the way to her waist, which she kept in a braid most of the time so it would be out of the way. Her eyes were light brown, almost golden in the right light. She was taller than most women at five feet, nine inches, and she was slender. She definitely didn’t have the curvaceous figure that was coveted by most women. It didn’t matter anyway, since she didn’t have nice clothes. She wore plain dresses or even trousers if she could get away with it.

As she ran down the street, one of the books in the large stack in her arms began to slip, and Asiah knew that disaster was about to strike. Sure enough, the entire stack came tumbling down and loose pages began to blow down the street. Thankful that at least she wasn’t wearing a skirt on a day like this, Asiah dropped to her knees and began scooping books and papers into a pile. With one arm covering the pile to keep pieces from blowing away, she attempted to sweep the loose pieces up with her other arm. Soon she was practically lying flat on the ground with her arms spread-eagled between two piles of paper, trying desperately to bring them together against the punishing wind. She looked bleakly down the street ahead as several pages were lost in the gale.

Just as she thought she might have to let go of one stack and hope for the best, a pair of scuffed jack boots appeared inches from her face.

It would appear that you need a hand, a deep, faintly accented voice said from above.

Her embarrassment was too much to bear, but she knew the wind had beaten her. Y-yes, I would appreciate that, thank you. One of the boots moved to hold down one stack and she gathered the other stack into her arms and stood up awkwardly. It took her a few minutes. The man helping her had somehow gotten his pile much neater and with much less effort, and when he stood, not at all awkwardly, her eyes met the most intense green ones she’d ever seen. Her mortification tripled and she was sure her face was fire-engine red. Oh! I … I … I mean, that is … ummm … She couldn’t seem to remember how to speak coherently.

Come inside my shop, it’s just here. You may organize your things there. The man gestured to a dark doorway nearby.

Asiah looked at the dingy doorway and back to her piles of paper. She reached down into her memory and remembered how to speak English. Thank you for your help, but I really should be getting back. They’ll wonder what happened to me. She let out a nervous giggle, then immediately blushed a deeper shade of red.

The man looked at her for a moment, seeming to see right into her soul. She shifted uncomfortably and looked over her shoulder. Nonsense! he finally spoke. You won’t get far with everything here in disarray, especially in this wind. Come inside and I’ll help you put everything right again. He smiled showing perfect white teeth.

Asiah almost forgot herself again after that smile, so she straightened her back and stuck out her chin instead. She wasn’t about to let this shabby-looking shopkeeper invite her inside some strange place. There were too many downtrodden that had turned to thievery during the Depression for her to trust just anyone on the street, however handsome he may be.

She spoke more firmly, I’m sorry, I’m terribly late getting back to my job, but I do appreciate your assistance. Asiah stepped forward and clumsily stacked her pile on top of his before she carefully pulled the mess from his hands and clutched it to her chest. As she did, her hand brushed his and she felt that same feeling she had had before, seven years ago on the boat to America, like something extraordinary was about to happen. Her hand tingled a bit where it had touched his.

Stranger still was that he seemed to feel it, too. He jumped just a tiny bit, but quickly recovered enough to mumble, I’m sorry, too. He held her flustered gaze for a moment longer then turned and strode into the dark doorway to his shop, slamming the door behind him.

Completely bewildered, Asiah stared after him wondering what on Earth had just happened.

***

Chase cursed himself the moment he let her walk away. What if she was the one for whom he’d been searching for the last 700 years? He’d all but given up the search when he came to Chicago a decade ago. He’d read enough prophecies saying that he would eventually find the girl, so it seemed fruitless to keep moving around and looking in different places. The child he was supposed to find would find him. He opened an antique knife shop on North Avenue to keep himself busy, but found it tedious and boring despite his fascination with blades of all kinds. Life in general was becoming tedious. Waiting endless years for a prophecy to come true was no way to live. With only a handful of customers over the years, he had plenty of time to pore over the old texts, scrolls and prophecies he had collected over the past seven centuries. Even these didn’t hold his attention anymore. It was almost time to end this farce of a quest.

Chase’s parents had died the day he was born. His mother died in childbirth. His father was crushed by a falling tree while running through a violent storm trying to get help for his dying wife. Chase was raised by a man named Tojen, who was his father’s uncle. It was by his Great Uncle Tojen’s teachings that Chase learned to control energy and the forces of nature. Sorcery, they called it then, or magic. When Chase was 25, his great uncle called him to his bedside where he lay dying. He told Chase that he had but one purpose in his life, which was to find his daughter. Confused, Chase asked why it was so important. The old man told Chase a story of a people whose very existence was in jeopardy, and that the only person who could save this world from ruin was his daughter.

Chase asked where he could find this woman and the sorcerer replied simply that she hadn’t been born yet, and may not be born for many years, but when the people of this world needed her most, she would come to them. With his dying breath he made Chase promise to find her and teach her how to set the Earth on the right path again.

Chase refused to believe that the woman meant to save all of mankind was just sprawled in the street in front of his shop. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to find her. People were inherently evil, he believed. Rarely did he see the selflessness he was supposed to be saving from destruction. He kept his distance from society, but whenever he did venture out, he was treated as the outcast he was. The people of this world deserved the devastation they were bringing upon themselves.

By the light of a single candle, his eyes now scanned an ancient scroll covered in the scribbled words of a lost language. Chase preferred candlelight to electric light. He had read by firelight for so long, the new electric lights felt too bright.

He’d read the scroll a thousand times and surely had its words memorized, but after the way he felt when her hand brushed his, he felt compelled to examine it again. When the words revealed nothing new, he rolled up the scroll hastily and tossed it aside with a groan. He held up his hand and examined his fingers where she had touched him as if expecting to find some sign of who she was. The jolt he felt when they touched was something he recognized, but the last time he experienced that feeling was ages ago …

Chase pulled a large leather-bound volume from a dusty shelf and dropped it on his oak table. He brushed the dust from the cover with his sleeve. He started to open the book then stopped. Placing his hand flat about a foot above the book he closed his eyes and focused on the passage he wanted to read. The book flew open and the pages fluttered wildly as if a strong wind had blown through the shop. Finally, the book became still. Chase plopped down at the table and began scanning the open page.

Chapter Two

Asiah nearly collided with Richard Kelsey, the aging pharmacist at the North Avenue Drugstore, as she burst through the door struggling to hold all her books and papers.

Slow down there, Asia Minor! Mr. Kelsey scolded, but his eyes were smiling. He’d always called Asiah Asia Minor because she was the youngest in her family, who had all been loyal customers of his for the last six years. He guided Asiah to the counter and helped her lay down the pile.

I’m sorry I’m late, Mr. Kelsey! I dropped a book a few blocks from here and everything fell and a man helped me pick it up and I hurried as fast as I could! Her words came out in a rush, and when she’d finished, she felt a little foolish.

No harm done, sweetheart, but it looks like you have some organizing to do now. I’ll fix you a soda and you can start working on this … mess. He busied himself behind the counter and turned the conversation to the Capone case. For some reason, the old druggist was fascinated with the notorious gangster.

Asiah tuned Mr. Kelsey out — he had a tendency to ramble on — and turned her thoughts to the mysterious man on the street. Something strange had happened when their hands touched. The feeling was so intense that she was afraid to think about it. Then again, it was so fleeting that maybe there wasn’t actually anything there to think about. It must have been static electricity, like the kind found in your bed sheets on hot, dry summer nights. She focused her attention on the mess of books and papers in front of her. She pulled a blank page out of the pile and began making a list of the texts she had collected: Herbs and Fungi With Medicinal Properties, Healing at Home, A Beginner’s Guide to Herb Gardening, Amazing Emerald Eyes … Wait, that’s not in the pile, Asiah thought. She shook her head to clear it. He was just a man on the street, no one of consequence. Why couldn’t she get him out of her head?

She decided that if she thought about him just for a minute, then she could forget about him and get back to work. She closed her eyes and summoned an image of his face to the front of her mind. The first things she remembered were his eyes. They were brilliant green, like the Irish hills, and deep and still like the lochs she had visited as a child in Scotland. His hair was dark brown and unkempt, falling to his shoulders. He hadn’t had a shave in a few days but the stubble didn’t hide his razor-sharp jawline and dimples she’d seen briefly when he smiled. He had nice teeth, which was scarce where she came from and uncommon even in America. He was taller than she was by about six inches, which was also unusual because Asiah was so tall herself. He was muscular, like he’d done a lot of hard labor in his life. He was wearing strange clothing that looked like it was from medieval times: a belted tunic over fitted trousers. Lastly, she remembered that he wore matching silver bracelets on each wrist.

Quite the little sketch artist, aren’t we? Mr. Kelsey’s voice jarred Asiah from her thoughts. She looked at him questioningly and he gestured to the paper on which she