Shifters

By Lucia Cascioli

Mirabelle always knew that she and her brother Brice were different. They could tell when the other was in danger. Why? They were Shifters and there were more of them out there.

Mirabelle, Brice and their group of friends come face to face with danger and they must use all their skills and courage to conquer the forces of evil. Will they succeed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257954438

Book preview

Epilogue

-1-

Iknew we were different.

One of my first memories as a child was listening to Seraphina talk about a doll that she loved to play with. We were six years old. She chattered on and on about Betsy.

I wanted to tear the doll’s head off.

Seraphina, let’s go play outside, I begged, tugging at my brown curls.

Mirabelle, I simply can’t leave Betsy alone inside. Seraphina was visibly stressed about that silly doll. I’ll have to take her with us. It’s windy out, so I’ll need to bring her hat and a brush to make sure her hair doesn’t get tangled.

Seraphina’s long, straight brown hair was always being combed by her mother, a woman obsessed with Seraphina’s appearance.

Why don’t we leave her inside so she won’t get dirty? I suggested, secretly hoping that Elek, our Labrador retriever who had been around forever, would use the doll as a chewing bone in our absence.

She’ll get lonely, Seraphina said, on the verge of tears. I’m her only friend!

I wanted to have fun.

There was so much activity going on outdoors. I wanted to see what the animals were up to out there. They all seemed to be busy that spring day, running around, making nests, and finding food. Even the flowers seemed to be making great effort to greet the warm sunshine. I wanted to get my hands dirty in the soil, and I couldn’t take another minute of this doll.

And then it happened.

I simply wished with all my might that Seraphina would stop talking and playing with Betsy and want to come outside and play with me.

And she did. Instantly. She dropped Betsy on the floor and marched out through the front door so abruptly, I had to skip to keep up with her.

Outside, I could hear my mother shouting for my brother. He’s my twin, older by fifteen minutes, but he never holds that over me. Mom says she’s been yelling at Brice from the minute he was born—I don’t know why. He has blue eyes and the blackest loose curly hair you’ve ever seen. We’re sixteen now, and he’s been working out extra, to stay fit, he says, but I think he does it to impress the girls or one in particular—blond-haired, green-eyed Ursula Higgins.

Brice likes to wander off into the wooded area behind our house. He’s there for hours sometimes. I’ve even seen him sneak out his bedroom window at night and run into the trees. I don’t worry about him when he goes there, though. He just loves nature, as I do.

My brother and I have a special bond. We can tell when the other is in danger.

When I was four and fell off my bike, Brice ran over and pushed me out of the way just as a car came around the corner. Funny thing is, he was playing fetch with Elek in the backyard and didn’t see me fall. When he was five, he fell climbing our oak tree. I called 9-1-1 five minutes before it happened. The ambulance arrived just as he landed on the ground.

We were different all right. We just didn’t know how different or why until May 13, just after we turned six. On that day, our lives would change forever.

-2-

May 13 is the day for entrance exams into Country Hills School— a kindergarten through grade twelve institution. You have to be invited to take the exam, even for elementary school, and Brice and I had been invited.

We were really nervous. Mom had made a huge deal about this as she bundled us up to go. We didn’t know what to expect.

Mommy, how many pencils will we have to take? I asked my mother that day.

None, dear. They’ll have all the supplies you need there, Mom replied.

Is there a reading test? Brice asked. He hated to read books. It seemed to be such a slow process for him.

There will be some form of reading, I’m sure, Mom told him.

We arrived at nine o’clock and were greeted by the headmaster, Mr. Darius Ingram.

Mr. Ingram looked ancient to me. He had a full head of the whitest hair I had ever seen. It shined the softest shade of pink in the sunlight. Since he didn’t have a beard or a moustache, his wrinkles were clearly visible. I remember staring at his cheeks. They were drawn with what appeared to be hundreds of fine, deep lines. He had heavy pockets of flesh under his gray eyes, and his nose was rather bulbous. But what I couldn’t stop staring at was his scarred neck. When I looked up, Mr. Ingram was staring right into my green eyes.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, Osprey talons.

My eyes widened with interest, hungry to know more, but he stood up and greeted Mom.

Good morning, Serena. How are you?

Fine, Mr. Ingram. And you?

Energized. This is a special day in the lives of many of our families.

Yes, it is, my mother replied sadly.

Mr. Ingram put his hand on my mother’s shoulder.

Serena, I know it’s hard for you to be here without your husband. Don’t worry. After all that you’ve told me about the children, they’ll do fine.

What had Mom told him about us? I wondered.

Shall we begin? Mr. Ingram’s voice boomed in my ears.

He escorted Brice and me into a very dark and windowless room.

Brice, please stand in this corner of the room. Mr. Ingram shuffled my brother across the enormous dark space. I stood alone, wondering if the headmaster would be able to find his way back to my spot.

Mirabelle, you are going to stand in the opposite corner, the headmaster stated. I heard the heels of his shoes approach me across the blackness of the room.

Now children, there is no need to be afraid. Your first test will be to see how well you communicate with one another. Brice, you are to read …

Ugh, my brother grunted from across the room.

You don’t like reading, your mother tells me, Mr. Ingram said laughingly.

No, Brice said emphatically. It’s too slow for me. Each word takes forever.

Why? Mr. Ingram asked curiously.

Brice was frustrated. Every time I look at a word, a picture pops up in its place.

Huh? This was news to me.

Well, Brice, you’ll be doing a different kind of reading today with Mirabelle, he said, turning to me in the dark. Mirabelle, I would like you to think of a single object with all your might and concentrate only on that one object. Are you ready?

Ready, I said, eager to get a passing mark.

Apple, Brice shot out from across the room.

Is that answer correct, Mirabelle?

Yes!

What color apple? Mr. Ingram pressed.

Green … no, red … no, yellow—Mirabelle, make up your mind!

Mr. Ingram chuckled to himself.

Mirabelle, are you ready to try too?

Yes! I replied quickly.

I knew I could do this. Ever since I could remember, I would pretend I could read my brother’s mind. I would imagine that Brice was thinking about swinging from a tree branch or staring at a hairy spider up close. I would let my mind wander so much that I would gross myself out by thinking that Brice was hatching up how to catch flies with his tongue like a frog. I never believed that the thoughts I was having were actually going through his brain.

Centipede! I blurted out. Huge, ugly centipede! I continued. Gross, Brice! You don’t have to picture ripping its legs off!

Brice laughed hysterically from his corner of the room.

Mr. Ingram was fascinated.

Very good, children. Very good. It’s time to see if you can write as well as you read.

Mr. Ingram didn’t give us pencils or paper. He simply left the room—and us—in the dark.

Where did he go? I whispered to Brice.

I don’t know, Brice answered with a quiver. Maybe the light switch is in the hallway, Brice said hopefully.

Mr. Ingram reentered the room but didn’t turn on the lights.

Headmaster, we don’t have anything to write with, and we’re still sitting in the dark, I quickly pointed out.

"You are correct, Mirabelle; but as you may have guessed, this next task will