“I hear you,” Sam answered, walking with Birch toward the door. “It didn’t look it does now. It took a few years to restore the place and add on.”
“Being right on the lake would be something I would love. But homes are hard to find.”
“There are a lot of people moving into Crystal Rock,” Sam admitted. “Real estate on the lake is getting to be a little more difficult to find.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve looked at a lot of places during the last month. I hate to have to waste a lot of time restoring some of them, plus a lot of them aren’t in ideal locations.”
“Well, good luck with both searches,” Sam said as Birch made his way from the office. “Give me a call if anything turns up with the murder.”
“Will do. Thanks, Sam,” Birch replied, making his way outside from the lobby.
* * *
About ninety minutes later, Birch was out in his cruiser, heading toward the section of the lake where the secreted channel was supposed to be located.
He’d made a copy of the map before taking off on the lake, which luckily wasn’t frozen as of yet. Soon, he’d be on his snowmobile, doing more exploring during the winter months. He was definitely a man who loved his toys, along with the risks involved.
Birch wasn’t sure why, but sometimes he felt invincible, as if nothing could harm him. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that he’d escaped death numerous times while on the job.
Strangely, when Birch arrived at the point on the map which was supposed open into a channel, momentarily, there was none to be found. But moments later, as if by magic, a waterway appeared between some pines, seeming to become wider right before his eyes.
As he steered the cruiser through the eerie channel, he felt as if he’d descended into a world of blacks and grays, seeming to be somewhere between life and death.
But what he was experiencing didn’t seem odd – it seemed right, somehow, as if he was being led to where he was expected and belonged.
And when the island appeared before his eyes amidst the dense dark fog, Birch sighed, recognition filtering in.
He’d been here before.
But how could that be? As far as Birch knew, he’d never been to Crystal Rock before in his life.
It was time to give his grandfather a call, he thought. Gramps had been rather cryptic with him during their last conversation, very interested to learn that Birch had decided to settle down in the town of Crystal Rock, Wisconsin.
Gramps had seemed relieved, saying that he was glad that Birch would be the one fulfilling the prophecy. Gramps had always been a little eccentric, believing in some strange supernatural mumbo jumbo that Birch had never really quite understood. Birch had gone along with him of course, to humor him, but had no interest whatsoever in learning what Gramps had been trying to teach him. But his grandfather had raised him after his parents had died rather mysteriously when Birch had been young.
What was the last thing Gramps had said? Birch thought carefully.
“I am so glad that you didn’t require my mentorship to guide you. You were able to find the way on your own. It must have been fat,” Gramps had murmured, sounding thankful.
Now, Birch wondered, as he approached the beach of the island, what did he need to know? This island seemed in limbo, he thought, shutting down the cruiser’s engine and gliding toward an old rickety pier at the edge of the beach.
After tying up the cruiser, he stepped onto the dock, making his way along the beach, where the body a man laid face down on the sand.
But something made Birch stop before touching the body. The clothing, shoes and even the outdated hat laying near the man’s head were all wrong for someone from the twenty-first century.
Bits and pieces of his past were coming back to him as he stood here on the beach. The problem was, the memories he recalled weren’t from his own childhood.
They were from a time period that was much earlier. The pictures in his mind were vivid, until suddenly, the visions stopped.
Birch would leave the body here for now, in limbo. Something told him that none of this would be real to anyone but him. Birch would return when the island awoke. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he had a feeling it would be soon.
Chapter Two
“Gwen? Look,” Aunt Serena yelled excitedly from the den nearby.
Grimacing, Ariella’s mother laid down the luggage she’d been ready to carry outside for Ariella, who was packing up the jeep.
Curious, Ariella followed her mother into the den.
“It’s our crystal ball. It’s telling us that it’s time. He’s discovered the island.”
Her mother gasped, looking nervously at Ariella, who was staring in fascination at the large round stone of quartz, alit like a motion picture where it rested on the mantle of the fireplace. She could see the outline of a man as he appeared to be exploring a beach, which was apparently located somewhere cold and bleak.
“It’s time, Gwen,” Aunt Serena said softly. “As much as I was hoping that the chosen one would not be Ariella, deep in my heart, I knew it would be her.”
“It would explain why all these strange men have suddenly been approaching her during this past week.” Mother closed her eyes, heaving a sigh. “Ariella is the Enchantress.”
“What in the world are you talking about, Mother?” Ariella looked at Aunt Serena. “What’s going on?”
“You’re not going to be happy about this, my dear,” Aunt Serena answered softly. “Put down that luggage. You’re going to have to postpone your trip to Paris.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Ariella looked uncertainly at her mother. “I’ve been saving my money and planning to study in Paris since I graduated from the Witch’s Academy three years ago. You can’t ask me to give up my dreams.”
“Dear,” her mother answered. “Your dreams will have to be put on hold for the sake of every one of us as well as our descendants. If you and your chosen mate succeed at eliminating the dark force seeking to claim our powers, you will have plenty of time to follow through with your dreams. This is a matter of life or death for the Cappellas, Ariella.”
Ariella rolled her eyes upward. Certainly, it couldn’t be that bad. Both Mother and Aunt Serena had a bad habit of announcing their doomsday proclamations with theatrics involved. Through the years, Ariella had chosen to ignore them.
“Chosen mate? Don’t start that again. I’m only twenty-five. I have my whole life ahead of me and I don’t need a man to live a rewarding life.”
Mother bit her lip, looking at her Aunt first and then back at Ariella. “You’re only saying that because of that awful man you were dating a few years ago, who broke your heart.
Ariella snorted. “I’d say I was lucky to find out about the other women he was seeing before it got more serious.”
“Dear, you don’t really mean what you’re saying,” Aunt Serena said, sounding reassuring. “You just haven’t met your true mate.”
“What is all this crazy talk about a mate?” Ariella growled. “You make it sound like I’m a breeding animal instead of a woman who’s waiting for the right man – if there is such a thing, that is.”