Light as a Feather

Chapter Seventeen

        Annabelle's mother called a healer in her family to come and try to fix the portrait. She found out that his name was Ricky, and he had been at the family reunion, even though Annabelle hadn't noticed him. There were so many people there that day that Annabelle was surprised she could even tell up from down, so she wasn't surprised that she hadn't met him yet.

        He turned up at the house after lunch had come and gone. Annabelle's mother got the door while Annabelle stood nearby, surveying the new person. He had bright blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that were so blue, it looked like he wore colored contacts. He was actually very stylish, with a black coat over a clean, white shirt. His jeans were a dark blue with obviously preripped holes. His shoes were brown. He looked at Annabelle and said, "Ah, so this is the one we've all heard so much about." He did not say it unkindly; in fact, he looked right into her eyes and smiled.

        "Well, I guess," Annabelle's mother said. "But I was hoping that you could fix the painting, like I said over the phone."

        "I don't know if I can. My powers haven't been working correctly."

        "None of ours have," her mother explained. "And I'm sure that that's partially due to the fact that the painting is ruined." Annabelle looked down at the floor at this statement.

        "Well, let me look at it," Ricky answered without any hesitation in his voice. "Maybe I can give it a go."

        Annabelle and her mom walked Ricky into the hallway, where the very black painting was still hung up on the wall. Everybody looked scared to even touch it, for fear of making it look worse. The hallway still looked like a giant mess, and Annabelle felt very guilty. That had never happened to her before. Why had her powers freaked out when she got too angry? It wasn't supposed to happen like that. Usually she was very controlled.

        Ricky walked up to the charred painting and lightly placed two bony fingers on it. He shook his head sadly. "I'm really not sure if I can, and I'm sorry for that reason. However, I will try."

        Annabelle merely nodded, even though she knew that he was mostly talking to her mother. Her mother, who had only wanted the best for her, and who now had to pick up the broken pieces. Ricky stared at the painting intently, and all of a sudden, blue rays of light shot right out of his eyes. The rays were the exact same color as his eyes. They were not sharp like a lazer, but rather spread out, more like a spotlight. They scanned over the painting, and Ricky muttered some unintelligable words. He stared at the painting some more, and some of the blackness began to clear away. Annabelle began to feel sense of hope, like he might be able to save it. But almost as soon as the black began to fade away, Ricky blinked, and shook his head.

        "I can't go any farther, or else I'll be writhing on the floor in agony," he explained sadly.

        "Does it hurt to heal things?" Annabelle asked.

        Ricky answered, "If you're trained right, not really. It just drains out your energy, because you're sending all of it to a specific thing. But since my powers are down, I'm rather low on energy right now. I drank a whole pot of coffee before I came here to try to get some artificial energy, but of course that will only go for so long."

        "But you hate coffee," Annabelle's mother pointed out.

        "I know," Ricky said, and looked at both of them as if to say, That's how dire the situation is right now.

        Annabelle's mother said, "Well, our powers are going to fade. Some faster than others. Do you have any suggestions?"

        Ricky suddenly looked at Annabelle very calmly and said, "Actually, yes. But your daughter is going to have to be the one to do it."

        "Well? Hurry! We don't have much time," her mom said. She sounded tired.

        "The only way to get our powers back is to have the painting again, but that isn't going to be possible unless you get the original painter to paint it again," Ricky said, rather ominously. He ran a hand through his blonde hair nervously.

        "No. You don't mean..." Annabelle's mother began.

        "Yes. She's going to have to go ask Lionel to redo it."

        "You know as well as I do that he isn't going to."

        Ricky shrugged. "He might, if his powers are at stake. He's in the family too, even if he doesn't act like it."

        "Wait a minute," Annabelle interjected. "Who the heck is Lionel?"

        Annabelle's mother turned to her. "Lionel is your uncle, my brother. He's older than me by a few years, but after he didn't recieve the feather like he thought he would, he vanished. I only have a faint idea of where he is, but he isn't going to like seeing you because you have something he doesn't. He gets very jealous."

        "Why did he paint the painting?"

        "Well, his powers involve arts. It's called being a conjurer. For example, when you read a book that completely changes your life, or you cry for the characters, or you think that they could be real, that's a conjurer for you. He can write stories that would make people have the same emotions, or even compose music that will affect you in the same way, but he chooses to paint. His paintings have magic in them, and his creation, that painting, was one of the main sources for our power. That feather is his creation, which is genius, really, but he doesn't necessarily see it that way."

        "Well, what am I supposed to do then?" Annabelle asked.

        Her mother turned pale while Ricky looked at the ceiling. "You'll have to go and try to get him to paint you another one. It can't be anybody but you."

        "But why?" Annabelle asked.

        "Because your uncle doesn't really like me, and he's always had a soft spot for you."

        "You said that he hated the fact that I got the feather!" Annabelle pointed out.

        "I meant that he really enjoyed having you as a niece before you got the feather. If we're lucky, he'll remember that. But if not..." her mother shook her head. "I'm not sure what we'll do."

        "She'll have to go soon, you know," Ricky said. "It's not a good idea for Cornell to be planning an attack when all of our powers are down."

        "Yes, Ricky, thank you," her mom snapped.

        Ricky threw up his hands. "Sorry, but mothers don't really like facing facts, especially when it comes to having their only child go and try to convince their hermit of an uncle to repaint a magical painting!" he shouted. Having finished his rant, he said, "I think I'm gonna go. Karina wants me to meet her parents today for lunch, so wish me luck."

        "Okay, thank you Ricky. Good luck."

        "Yeah, I'm gonna need it. See ya, Annabelle," Ricky said. He walked down the stairs and Annabelle sat there watching him.

        "I'm gonna have to miss school or something, aren't I?" she asked.

        Her mom nodded the tiniest bit. "I really wish I didn't have to send you out there, but Ricky's right. He's not gonna do this for anyone but you, and the chances are very slim."

        "Where does he live?" Annabelle asked.

        "All I know is that he lives in some town in Utah," she answered.

        "Great. That narrows things down."

        Her mom sighed. "That's all I know."

        Annabelle frowned as her mother walked down the stairs. There were so many places to look, and she would probably never find him, but she had to try. It was her fault that the painting was ruined, and Ricky was also right about Cornell. She'd never be able to defeat him without her powers, and everybody had made it abundantly clear that she was going to have to do that alone, too. And how was she supposed to find him, anyway? There was the Internet, but she seriously doubted that her uncle would have a Facebook account that she could check. That would be too easy. But maybe that was where she should start.