The Power of Gold

By J. J. Leach

A GIRL SEARCHING FOR A HOME IN ONE WORLD...

FINDS A DESTINY IN ANOTHER.

Josephine has spent the last fifteen years in foster care, always hoping for a better life. Now, with a new foster home, she feels safe

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Leach
• Release date: Feb 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736014424

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Two lone figures stepped out of the red, rippling glow of the portal. The shimmering light cast multiple shadows between the trees, making it appear as if an army had invaded the forest.

Anu glanced at her companion who seemed unaffected by their short transport to the realm. She, on the other hand, felt her usual nausea every time she stepped through the horrible contraption.

She looked around the area but no threat appeared.

Master said there was a disturbance around us, she whispered.

Silence, the figure hissed through his teeth. I feel another portal somewhere near us. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose.

Anu surveyed the area again, trying to find the source of the disruption.

Her companion bristled with impatience.

No matter, he glanced sideways to Anu. We need to capture the girl sooner than later. Master will kill us if we let her get away from us this time.

Anu curtly nodded to him as he bent down and lifted a bag from behind a fallen branch. He withdrew clothes and threw several pieces at her.

You need to change as well, he pointed out. We cannot afford mistakes.

She tried not to roll her eyes at him; a particularly bad habit that she picked up in this world. The habit could get her killed by her superiors—the figure standing next to her had killed for far less reasons.

He stared at Anu as she changed into her disguise; her skin morphed into her new identity.

Do you have your instructions? He asked as he turned around and started to walk towards a well-worn footpath. Use the memory spell that Corvus provided you and we shall have her by the week’s end.

Anu barely nodded in agreement, not paying attention to him like she should have.

He swung around and grabbed her by the throat. Her feet dangled precariously in the air.

Answer me, Lirrean, like a good slave should, he sputtered in anger.

Anu’s breath stopped.

Though Corvus allows leniency in your behavior, do not think that I will, do you understand me? He said with deadly intentions.

He dropped her to the ground. She grabbed her throat, gasping for breath.

Yes, my Lord, please forgive my disrespectful response, she rasped, gently kneading her throat.

He walked away from her. She jumped from the ground and followed him. Her throat ached from his grip.

Go to the family and await further instructions, he muttered softly.

Yes, my Lord, Anu responded swiftly.

She had a mission, and this time, she would be successful.

If she failed, her life would not be the only one in jeopardy.

ONE

Red lights. Screams. Death. Darkness.

I scribbled the words down on paper. The only remnants that I could remember from my episode last night. I flipped through the pages—the same words jumping out at me and taking a life of their own. Night after night the same nightmare haunted me.

The therapist would be proud of my progress—blood was nowhere to be found within my dreams now. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing but at least blood was physical and tangible—stoppable. I wasn’t so sure of the other elements.

Nancy called to me from downstairs. The bus would be here in a few minutes and I knew she was worried that I would miss the nutritional breakfast for my first day of school—my third school this year.

I stuffed the journal into my backpack, reminding myself to tell Nancy I needed another one. This one was already full. The five words continued to take up space.

As I scrambled into my shoes and with a swift glance in the mirror, I hurried downstairs almost running into Jack when I rounded the corner of the hall.

Hey, Jo, you missed Nancy’s smiley face pancakes again, he sighed, slipping his long blond bangs away from his eyes.

I know, sorry. I’ll try and remember next time, okay, squirt? I patted his head as we headed out the door. He pushed my hand away, hating the habit that I had adopted. Nancy stopped me from behind and pushed a lunch bag into my hand.

Let’s try and get up a little earlier if you need to write in your journal again, okay? She gave me a quick smile as she swept a piece of her own blond hair back behind an ear.

The nervous gesture reminded me of previous foster parents that I had lived with and the stress that I apparently caused them. Hence the third new school this year. At least Nancy was more understanding of my episodes than the other foster parents.

I will, I promise, I muttered with a faint, insecure smile.

Abby barreled through the door, pushing me out of the way. I grabbed the door frame to keep from falling. I refused to comment because I knew she would just give me a scathing remark back. I needed to pick my battles. I didn’t want to be moved to another home.

Nancy shook her head in exasperation.

Abby, watch where you are going, dear, she said with a frustrated groan. Abby glanced over her shoulder with a ‘what did I do’ expression and mouthed a sorry to her. Not to me.

Abby hated me for some reason. When I arrived at Nancy and Dave’s house last month, Abby’s silent treatment grew into argumentative loathing. I felt her tension and hatred for me whenever I was near. I didn’t understand her behavior but chalked it up to the circumstances of being a foster kid.

The bus pulled up to the curb and as I followed Jack and Abby, Nancy suddenly called out.

Jo, Dr. Reynolds cancelled your appointment today so I made a new one for next week. Is that okay? She said to bring all your journals to her at that time.

My eyes closed briefly with embarrassment. I waved to her, letting her know that I heard her—as I imagined all of the neighborhood did.

Feeling self-conscious, I climbed the steps to my worst nightmare. Slowly marching the worn black path down the middle, I felt the sharpness of multiple eyes following me—some with curiosity and others with indifference. When an empty seat popped up, I quickly scooted to the window, trying not to risk a side glance to Abby and her friend, Claire.

Abby was blond, beautiful and popular. Nancy and Dave Maloney took her in two years ago. She was sixteen, a year older than me and had an annoying, and extremely creepy, boyfriend who seemed to never leave her side.

Unfortunately, Abby and I shared a room which so far constituted absolute torture—probably why she hated me from the very first day. I took away her personal space. For that, I understood.

But it could be for other reasons—the loathing directed at me.

My therapist called them night terrors but to me, they were something more. Even though I couldn’t remember any of the specific details of the nightmare, the lasting impression was terrifying. Red lights tormented me, always leaving me clammy and cold. It scared the hell out of me.

With all the complications in my life so far, sometimes I couldn’t believe that I was afraid of the color red.

Jack plopped down beside me, shaking me out of my introspective thinking. His white-blond hair mussed up as always.

So, are we going into the woods again today? I had a lot of fun yesterday, he exclaimed. Excitement bursting from him. I couldn’t help smiling down at him with affection.

I don’t know, Jack, it depends on the amount of homework I have, I answered. His smile turned instantly into a frown.

But, I continued. I will try to get most of it done before dinner and maybe we can go for a little while.

His brilliant smile could break any girls’ heart. He jumped up and crossed over to his seat again.

Thanks, Jo, he said as he turned his attention to the little girl next to him.

I shook my head in awe at the ten-year-old. Both Abby and Jack had no problems being foster kids. For me, too many houses, too many heartaches. Maybe I couldn’t get used to happy people around me. My past homes were horrid so I was hoping their faith in Nancy and Dave would rub off on me.

As the bus pulled up to the school, my heart somersaulted. I pulled my bag over my head and slowly made my way to the new phase of my agony.

The school was a typical small Midwestern school; junior high school in one wing of the building along with the high school, followed by an agricultural building next to the main building, and the elementary school right down the road. It sure was going to be hard to go unnoticed when the entire school had maybe around three hundred students.

Of course, Abby already had a gathering around her. Her friends, the popular ones, grabbed her shoulders, screeching about a party that was happening this weekend.

Giving my surroundings a quick look over, I ducked my head and walked quickly into the school to find my locker.

Not making eye contact with the growing number of students, I gathered my books for the first class. Walking into the room, I automatically headed for the back row of seats, ignoring everyone’s stare.

Abby sauntered in with her entourage. She frowned when she spotted me. Her eyes rolled with frustration.

Great. I understood her surprise—this was a junior literature class and I was only a sophomore.

I knew Abby would never let me forget this; my monochromatic-dressed geekiness invading her lush and colorful realm of existence.

Abby’s boyfriend, Travis, followed her to the back, unfortunately taking the seat next to me. I shifted away from him as he leaned towards me, his long dark hair showering most of his face.

Hey, you know you should get that thing on your ear looked at, Travis exclaimed in a loud voice. It might eat your face.

I turned away from him, embarrassed that he called attention to the one thing that I tried to hide: a triangular-shaped birthmark in front of my left ear.

I quickly pulled my curly, dark-copper hair over the mark. Paranoia consumed me. In the rush this morning, I forgot to apply make-up over it.

Everyone in the class laughed, with Abby cackling the loudest. Although I shouldn’t be surprised, it still infuriated me.

Thankfully, the teacher walked in just in time to stop any other comments from Travis.

She was well dressed; a pencil skirt and white blouse emphasized her slim figure. Her short dark hair cropped in a pixie style.

Good morning class. I hope you had an eventful summer vacation and read a lot of wonderful literature as well?

A mixed response from the students greeted her.

She placed her papers on the lectern at the front of the class. Looking up, she scanned the classroom. Unfortunately, her eyes stopped at me.

Her well-manicured hands searched for her glasses.

Well, how wonderful. We have a new student in our class today. And what is your name? She asked as she continued to search for the attendance sheet.

She glanced back up, waiting. Please stand up and state your name.

Snickering ensued as I slowly stood up.

Umm...my name is Josephine Smith but people call me Jo.

More contagious laughter followed. My hand absently reached for my charm around my neck. It always calmed my nerves.

Well, Ms. Smith, welcome to junior literature. My name is Miss Schumacher. We are fortunate to have a sophomore in my class this semester so I expect great things from you.

Her smile widened as she motioned for me to take my seat again.

I smiled back, feeling warm from her genuine and welcoming gesture. Travis stared at me. Refusing to acknowledge him, I leaned down to pull out my notebook and pencil from my backpack. He leaned into me.

Yes, Ms. Smith, we expect great things from you.

I glanced up at him, ready with a response but he was already turning towards Abby.

The rest of class time was spent reviewing past material and going over our curriculum for the semester. But the heated whispers between Travis and Abby made it difficult to fully pay attention to the teacher.

Mental note: sit in the front row tomorrow.

Finally, the class ended and I quickly grabbed my pack and headed out the door.

Hopefully, the rest of the day would be Abby and followers free. And it was for most of the morning, except for lunch but that was tolerable. I ate my lunch outside in the courtyard and sat under a tall tree. I leaned back and smiled when the blunt crevices of the bark pushed into my shirt. The contact gave me solace.

Unfortunately, in the afternoon, my luck ran out.

Gym turned out to be dreadful as Abby and company strolled into the locker room, claiming lockers right across from mine.

Trying to hurry so I could get out of there, I accidently shut my finger in the locker door.

Stifling a cry of pain, I grabbed my hand and leaned my back against the locker. Heat traveled down my arm.

Abby’s friend, Claire, started to laugh.

Look, your finger matches your hair now. Red and nasty looking.

I gave her a scathing look as I started to walk away. Abby’s foot shot out, tripping me. I go down barely catching myself from falling flat on my face.

Totally embarrassed, I stayed on the ground with my forehead pressed to the floor until everyone left the locker room. Laughter followed their exit. Or I thought everyone.

I heard shuffling behind me and I quickly stood up. My hands automatically pushed in front of me, ready to deflect other malicious intents.

A girl with long brown hair stood at the end of the lockers.

Hey, are you alright? She pointed at my finger. Should I get the coach?

I immediately shook my head. No, really, I’m fine. I’ve had worse. I smiled at her.

She responded with a bigger smile and grabbed my arm like we were old friends and pulled me to the door.

I’m Samantha, by the way. But you can call me Sam.

I nodded to her and smiled again.

I know. You’re in my math class.

We sat on the bleachers, steering clear of Abby and Claire and not wanting to be the subject of their taunts anymore.

She looked at me with questioning eyes.

So, you and Abby live together, right? I nodded before she continued. Why is she so mean to you? You’re family now.

I glanced at Abby and shrugged. I really don’t know why she acts that way.

The coach walked in and began to lecture on the history and fundamentals of basketball. I tried to listen but my finger throbbed and I was starting to get a little warm and nauseous.

Uncomfortably warm.

I raised my hand. The coach stopped in mid-sentence.

"Yes?’’

Coach Hammond, may I get a drink?

She waved her hand to the door, giving me permission. I found the water fountain down the hallway.

Taking a long swig, I stood up and leaned my forehead against the cool wall.

This day better end soon.

Suddenly, dark spots crowded the edges of my vision until they pushed all light from my sight. Jagged red lines crisscrossed the blackness, followed by a high-pitched scream. Only death remained—and I felt the immediate loss.

My hands instantly felt like they were on fire.

Surprised by the intense heat coursing through my fingers and now up my arms, I threw them in front of me, sprawling my hands along the wall and hoping the coolness would douse the fire growing inside of me.

The darkness lifted and all I could see was the bright blue tile of the wall staring back at me. But heat still radiated from my hands. I shook them, hoping the cool air around me would help ease the uncomfortable warmth.

With no luck, I immediately shoved my hands under the fountain, drenching them with cold water. A sigh of relief escaped when the water streamed between my fingers. My head was swimming with questions.

What just happened? I never had an episode awake, so this was entirely new. And the burning hands? That was new too.

I brought my hands up in front of my face, inspecting them. I half expected them to be smoking like a soaked fire.

The coach suddenly peeked out the gym door, startling me.

Jo? Are you okay?

I nodded as I hurriedly dried my hands on my t-shirt and ran to the door.

Sorry, I mumbled as I passed by her.

Sitting down next to Sam, I couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed with her closeness: her smell, her breathing. All of my senses seem magnified.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing, just as the therapist advised me during times like these. This was definitely something to write about in my journal.

Luckily, the rest of gym class turned out be uneventful and by the end of the day, I was actually happy to ride the bus home, especially when Abby ignored me.

First day of school—fairly normal and somewhat tolerable. Meeting Sam was a plus—possibly a potential friend.

But as we got off of the bus, the day took another turn for the worst.

As Abby, Jack and I walked up to the front door, we heard the intensity and sting of Dave’s words to Nancy. He was going through a hard time at his work, so the last few weeks have been like walking on egg shells around him. But they were only words at this point, not even bad words, and definitely no hitting. He usually walked away before the fights became too intense and out of control.

We quickly backed away and headed for the backyard playset. Abby sat down on the end of the slide while Jack and I each took a swing.

For once, we were silent, knowing how this would end; Nancy crying, Dave yelling about her crying, and then Dave leaving in the truck to, hopefully, cool off. All of us have had far worse experiences with fosters.

As we heard the front door close and the roar of the truck engine, we gathered our bags and headed through the back door.

Nancy was at the kitchen counter fiddling with a box of cake mix, her eyes and face red from crying.

Hey, kids, how was school? She barely turned her face, not wanting us to see her completely.

Great, Abby said. It was nice to see everyone again.

Jack rolled his eyes. You saw everyone almost every day during the summer!

Well, this was different, she threw back.

How was your day at a new school, Josephine? Nancy asked, still not turning towards me.

It was okay, I guess, I answered, shrugging my shoulders.

I didn’t want Nancy to know about my episode yet. I will leave that to the therapist.

I really like the Lit teacher, Miss Schumacher, I offered.

If there was one subject that I truly loved and enjoyed, it was literature. Reading helped me get through some horrible foster homes.

Abby chuckled and rolled her eyes.

Yeah, you would like her, Abby uttered.

Now, Abby, be nice, Nancy exclaimed.

Yeah, Abby, be nice, as I stared down my nose at her. Abby pressed her lips together and threw me one of her hateful looks. She stomped up to our room. The door slammed, making the picture on the wall tilt haphazardly. Nancy sighed in defeat.

Nancy, can Jack and I go walking in the woods before dinner? I asked.

Jack started towards the door before Nancy could answer but she instantly called him back.

Jack, you have a dentist appointment in half an hour, so we need to head out now, she said. You can go Jo, but don’t be gone too long and don’t get dirty like you did last time, okay?!

She happened to be referring to yesterday when I accidently fell out of a tree into a huge mud puddle, ruining what little clothing I actually owned.

We will go shopping this weekend for new clothes.

Okay, I mumbled as I walked down the steps of the back porch. I could feel Jack’s eyes on my back; his disappointment evident.

We’ll go tomorrow, Jack, okay? I yelled back at him.

Nancy waved as she led a protesting Jack away from the porch.

Silently pleased that I would have time to myself, I strolled across the backyard into what I considered my own safe haven—the woods.

Patches of forest interrupted a vast landscape of farmland. Trees dotted the area around Nancy and Dave’s home, offering well-worn paths in various directions within each tree kingdom. Woods have always felt like home to me; a strange, but welcomed, connection to the plants and animals. Being within the tall oak and maple trees felt natural and relaxing. And they called to me today.

Maybe, like my books, I felt more control here. No one bullying, no one hitting. You could be you. No judgements.

I crossed my arms as a cool breeze stirred—the hint of fall anxiously trying to take over what was left of summer. The noise of the light shuffling of leaves lulled me into a trance.

While walking, everything that happened in my life so far floated to the surface.

Life hadn’t been easy for me, thus the need for a therapist, but I knew some foster kids had it a lot worse. Most of the kids were in the system because of deadbeat dads and drug-addicted moms. Some come from parents who abused them, or the parents were dead, with no living relatives to take them in.

That would be my situation. Both of my parents were killed by a drunk driver. And with no other living relative, I found myself in my first foster home at the age of one.

The first home was like going to a party compared to the many group homes and families that eventually followed.

But survival was always my mantra—maybe you were a little damaged, but you survived.

I breathed deeply, taking in the newly rained smells of the trees, dirt, and grass. Exhilaration flooded my senses.

My feet started to move faster, no more lazily parading through the trees. I began to run, trying not to slip and fall. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be gone a long time but I couldn’t help the feeling of freedom taking over. So, my speed increased and I ran farther into the woods, parts that I never been before.

I slowed down to catch my breath, noticing how dark it was in this area—almost unnaturally dark for this time of day.

Looking around, the trees were different, too large for the land. I should go back, but something compelled me to move forward. Curiosity overruled my judgement.

That was when I saw it.

A light, maybe. I couldn’t tell. It flickered so quickly. You know how you would catch something at the corner of your eye but when you looked directly at it, nothing would be there?

I continued walking farther into the forest until several burly oak trees blocked the path. Lightning must have marred the trees and felled them together—they made a perfectly-shaped triangle.

Slowly, I moved towards them. A shimmer of light caught my eye, but when I surveyed the trees, nothing appeared.

My eyes must be playing tricks on me.

A burst of rippling blue light ignited inside the triangle.

I screamed and stumbled back, falling over part of a rotten log. Stunned and unable to move, I looked up into the light and discovered the shape of a man.

Startling, bright blue eyes illuminated the ghostly figure.

And then he was gone. The light dissipated.

I scrambled to my feet and sprinted back home. My legs never stopped until I stood at the edge of the woods. Only then did I dare look back, hoping the mysterious figure didn’t follow me.

But only silence stalked me; no leaves rustling or birds chirping. Not even the breeze that was so apparent when I first entered the woods stirred. Nothing moved.

What was that?

Or should I say, who was that?

I shook my head, trying to clear the strange presence that slowly invaded my thoughts. I glanced down at my jeans and shoes. Great, I was filthy again. Nancy’s going to kill me.

With the blue eyes still heavy on my mind, I slowly walked inside the house.

TWO

The strange figure haunted me all evening. I couldn’t stop thinking about the light and I knew those thoughts would follow me into the night. But to my surprise, the mysterious figure eluded my sleep. Actually, I didn’t have my usual dreams either. I slept peacefully which had never happened before, ever.

A small smile emerged but the momentous event soon dissipated when Jack ran into my room and landed right on my feet.

Come on, Jo, he yelled. The bus will be here in ten minutes!

Jack scrambled off the bed and leapt out the door, heading downstairs like a herd of buffalo.

I rolled out of bed and quickly dressed in my usual uniform—jeans, black t-shirt and gray scarf. Walking to the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror. For once my eyes were free of dark circles. I quickly pulled my hair into a barrette, brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs.

I barely laced my shoes when Jack yelled about the bus arriving.

Of course, Abby glanced at me with her usual hostility and hurried by me.

Bye, Nancy, I shouted as I ran out the door.

Nancy just shook her head, hating that I didn’t get my nutritional breakfast again.

Morning classes passed by fairly quickly and without incident. It also helped that I situated myself away from Abby and Travis at all times and avoided any eye contact with them.

I was a coward. I accepted that revelation because I had other things to think about. The mysterious figure and flickering light weighed heavily on my mind.

I chuckled softly. I truly was losing my mind.

As lunch approached, I avoided eating with Sam even though I knew she was saving a seat for me. I decided to go outside again.

The ghostly face intrigued me and I needed time to think about my next strategy. I wasn’t afraid, more curious than anything.