American Quest by Sienna Skyy Page B

school.”
    Errant bits of peppermint leaf floated in her cup, and the scent of it strove to calm her nerves.
    She looked up at Bruce. “ First day of high school, actually, as if that wasn’t weird enough. It was after school, I was in my room, and my computer started talking to me. It was that stupid paperclip thing. You know that thing in Word? That Help tool that winks at you?”
    He nodded. “Always drove me crazy.”
    Jamie gave a rueful laugh. “Yeah, me too, especially when I was trying to get work done for class. But this time,” Jamie paused. Her gaze drifted to the window. “This time everything was different.”

    The homework on her first day was overwhelming. This was going to be much tougher than middle school. Jamie got out her books and sat down at the computer, revving up Word.
    But there was no way she could concentrate on the essay she needed to write with that paperclip winking and blinking at her. She turned it off. It came back.
    She turned if off again. It came back again.
    She rebooted her machine.
    The images on the screen swooned and went black, and then the CPU buzzed and clucked and flashed the log-in page.
    Jamie’s fingers were poised, ready to type in her username and password (Jamie / Tink). But there it stood, that animated paperclip, winking and blinking. And it grew bigger on the screen.
    And then the cartoonish icon danced, swirled, and leaped out of the monitor.
    Jamie gasped and tumbled backward, legs splayed, as the paperclip arched and ran across her keyboard, leaped over her desk, and joined her on the floor.
    “Hello, Jamie!”
    She backed away from it. But more from confusion than fear. The voice was so sweet, so soothing. Jamie’s body curled and she sat up, looking at the odd thing. I’m hallucinating. Man, the first day of school was more stressful than I thought.
    The clip bent itself over and stretched, growing bigger yet again. It exuded a golden light, bathing the room in warmth as it expanded and changed, wavering. Jamie watched dumbstruck as the clip went through its metamorphosis. Eventually it became a beautiful lady, elderly and smiling.
    Then the woman was sitting in a golden chair, and flecks of gold shimmered within her emerald eyes. Her hair was white and wound into a knot just above her neck. Jamie felt a remarkable sense of peace coursing through her as the woman spoke with a voice kind and motherly, soothing and beautiful like her eyes.
    She told Jamie she was “an Auxilium,” come to explain about Jamie’s purpose in life.
    The Auxilium woman told her many things. She said that she was
glad that Jamie and Bruce had naturally developed a loving friendship. She told her that Jamie had been placed by Bruce’s side as his guardian.
    And then, though the lady’s voice remained warm and soothing, her words took on an ominous warning, striking fear into Jamie’s heart.
    The Auxilium held Jamie’s hand and told her that she was going to have to be very brave. And then she described to Jamie the world of the Macul. And Enervata.

    Rage bubbled up inside Bruce. “You never told me any of this! My God, you’ve been carrying this around since high school?”
    Jamie’s cheeks colored. “The Auxilium warned me not to say a word to you. Or anyone else for that matter, until it began. It’s the only secret I’ve ever kept from you. If I told you, it might have prevented you from seeking true love in your life. That would have been wrong for you and terrible for the world.”
    Jamie turned her face away and Bruce saw a watery shimmer at the corner of her eye.
    His stomach threatened to empty involuntarily. If he’d taken a swig of tequila it probably would have. He reached out a shaky hand and grasped the cup of tea.
    Jamie turned back to him and laid her hand on his forearm. “The thing is, Bruce, you and Gloria are destined to achieve great things together. If you can make it through this.”
    She withdrew her hand and sipped her tea. Bruce sipped his,