Read The Star Child (The Star Child Series) for Free Online Page A

my right, the blonde across the aisle held a cosmetic kit with a rather large mirror angled in my direction. What I saw when I looked in the mirror nearly brought me out of my seat. Instead of the blonde’s reflection, looking back was a man with fierce eyes and white-blond hair staring at me.
    I looked around behind me and down the aisle to see if this stranger was anywhere around me. However, there was no one. When I looked back, the imposing visage was gone. That was weird.
    Trying to calm down, I looked out the window into the early morning light. Now, with sweat beading on my forehead and running down the back of my neck, the dream seemed too real, too vivid.
    The blonde closed the compact roughly, giving me an irritated look when she caught my eyes on her. Averting my gaze, I focused on the bag under my seat.
    The face I’d seen did little to remove the sense of unease that dreams of Calienta always left me with. After that first encounter, whether it was real or imagined, I’d dreamed about Calienta every night without fail. The dreams didn’t scare me, but they always left me feeling alone and with the impression that there were unmet expectations surrounding me. The endless stories that I wrote about her helped me document both my dreams and my schoolboy fantasies of another life. They were a diversion, and a welcome one at that, from the lonely life that I led.
    Even into my college years, I couldn’t wait to escape to my journal and write about what might have been or what my life could have been like if I went with her. Not that I ever admitted any of that to Gabe. Though I’d far less free time once my intense Yale schedule kicked in, I always thought of her.
    As I eased into an upright position and worked out the kinks in my neck, the pilot announced that fog had moved into the area and landing would be a challenge. The backup of other airplanes resulted in ours being placed in an extensive holding pattern. We remained in flight an additional forty-five minutes longer than I’d anticipated.
    By the time we landed and claimed our luggage, I found that I was practically running to the cab bay. There was no point to hurrying, but I hurried nonetheless. Spotting an empty taxi, I wrenched open the door, tossed in my bags first before climbing in, and shut it firmly behind me.
    “Where to?” asked the cabbie.
    “Three-o-nine Upper Pembroke,” I instructed. It was a little early for social calls, but my grandfather would be expecting me.
    ***
    When I was ten years old, Stephen had informed me that I was being sent to boarding school in North Yorkshire. He explained that I’d be leaving the next day and should keep my packed belongings to a minimum as there wouldn’t be much room for luggage.
    My voice tentative, I asked, “Where's North Your Shirt, Father?”
    Roger snorted in the background. Stephen looked annoyed. He didn't respond well to questions. He expected everyone to have all of the answers, like he did. He barked at me impatiently, “It’s in the UK. England.”
    The place couldn't be any worse than home. Maybe I could see Gran; England was right next door to Ireland anyway, I thought, trying not to let my excitement show.
    “Will Roger be going with me?” Roger looked smug and Stephen didn't answer, which told me all that I needed to know. Roger was staying; I was being sent away.
    “Go and pack your bags.” That was the extent of the conversation.
    The school was good for me. I made friends among my classmates, and my roommate, Simon, became my best friend. Some of the teachers were nice too, which was more than I could have hoped for. The topics were too simple, though, and I found that I was often bored in my classes. I didn’t mind, because I never received bad marks, which meant that I got to stay. I’d have been happy to stay there forever. Plus, if I hadn’t gone, if I hadn’t been shipped off, I might never have met my grandfather, Alistair.
    ***
    Gran had shared quite a bit