Talisman 01 - The Emerald Talisman

important, keeping my friends from harm. My next step was figuring out how to get into my house without needing Nicholas’ help after dark.
    I bit my pencil and conspired while in Algebra, when I got a brilliant idea. If there was a way to get Phil to follow me home, and I drove into my garage, I could talk to him from the safety of my house. It would take some preparation, but I knew it would work.
    With that decision, I just wanted school to be out, so I could put everything into motion. The faster I got through my visit with the dreaded fortune teller, the better.
    * * *
    All the little houses that lined the road next to the theater looked identical, until I settled on the one that looked vaguely familiar. The only problem was the curtains were drawn hiding the fortune teller sign.
    I got out of the car and studied the front. The memorable tiny walkway to the porch brought it all back. My senses told me no one was home, but I decided to knock anyway. While waiting, I noticed the pile of newspapers next to the rickety screen door. The mailbox overflowed with mail as well.
    Has no one been home since I was here last?
    Something rubbed up against my leg and I looked down. A black cat with icy blue eyes sat at my feet—the same one from before. I squatted down and scratched her head, wondering why she was so friendly to me now.
    “Where’s your mommy?” I whispered, hoping the old woman was just out of town and didn’t leave her pet behind.
    “She’s not here.”
    The words I heard weren’t spoken out loud, but said inside my head—a woman’s voice, ethereal in tone with a slight echo. Afraid, I stood up and looked around. I knew for sure no one was there, but someone had spoken to me all the same. Was I losing my mind?
    “Who’s there?” I asked quietly, thinking that whoever it was hid their feelings from me as well. I didn’t like being caught off-guard.
    “You’re special, aren’t you, Julia?” the woman’s voice said in my head, like it was a new revelation.
    “Show yourself right now,” I demanded a little louder, stumbling off the steps, walking backwards down the path so I could scan the bushes alongside me.
    “I’m right here.”
    The voice came from the porch area. I glanced around to see who was there, but only the cat sat perched on the edge of the porch, looking directly at me. I could’ve sworn the cat smiled at me. I blinked.
    I’m officially losing it. I’m talking in my mind to a cat!
    I spun around and prepared to sprint to the safety of my car.
    “Wait please.”
    The voice was spoken out loud, followed by her tender, caring feelings of peace and warmth. I turned around to find the source and gaped. On the porch stood a beautiful, angelic, raven haired woman with fair skin and radiant, crystal blue eyes.
    “Where did you come from?” I asked in bewilderment.
    “I think you know,” she said sweetly, a simple smile playing on her lips.
    “I am an Enigma,” she spoke in my mind.
    I was speechless for a second.
    “You’re the cat?” I choked out.
    She didn’t say yes or no. She just continued to smile at me and her eyes washed me with such happiness I’ve not felt in a long time.
    “You’re looking for Madame,” she stated plainly. “She is not here.”
    “She’s not?”
    “No,” she said, now sending out a little sadness. “She is gone. But it’s better this way. It was her time.”
    I latched onto every word and willed her to speak more. The melodic quality of her tone was so pleasing to listen to, the absence made everything sound bland. She had to be an angel.
    “I’m not an angel,” she said, with a slight chuckle.
    “You . . . can read my mind?” I asked, instantly feeling vulnerable.
    “I can.”
    I became guarded, unsure if I could trust her. But if she could read my mind, then she would know everything about me. Stepping backwards, I willed my mind to stop, but it rambled through all the things I didn’t want her to know.
    “Don’t worry . . . I’m your friend . ”
    She spoke both externally and internally. But her changing back and forth made my brain feel woozy.
    “Who are you? What are you?” I asked, overwhelmed by her presence, suddenly feeling very insignificant and ugly, right down to the repulsive sound of my own voice.
    “Sweet, dear child, I am nothing important, unlike yourself. Don’t be so disheartened.”
    “I . . . I’m not doing this,” I said in frustration and turned to leave. No one was going to pry around in