Free Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) by Ryan Attard Page B

does not suddenly appear,” said Sun Tzu. “Surely there must have been other incidents.”
    Amaymon turned his head toward me. “Erik?”
    “I don’t remember any,” I said.
    “Let us be the judge of that,” replied the cat.
    “What are you talking about, kitty?”
    Amaymon let out a soft hiss. “I’ve been dying to hear your full story. I wanna know what happened from the moment you first used magic to how the curse manifested. I’m sure there’s a hint there somewhere. Gramps is right — this kinda power is usually the first to show. So spill.”
    I gave the cat a dirty look. “You remember our deal when I first got you? No questions asked. Especially about my past. I had a horrible childhood. I repressed most of it, and I’m not about to open that can of worms again.”
    Sun Tzu cleared his throat, gaining my attention. “But, my friend, there will be a time when you will wish you had dealt with it. Your past may contain clues as to how to better control this new manifestation. And if not for yourself, you owe it to the world to use this power against the enemies who wish to destroy it. You owe it to Abigale.”
    Good one, old man. Play the guilt card. Heaviness settled on my chest, and even after two refills it wouldn’t go away. Damn Chinese and their philosophies. Leave it to the cat and the mentor to lay a guilt trip on me. And using Abi, the person I wanted to protect most, as leverage. Was I that transparent to the world?
    I crossed my arms, pouting. “Fine. But even if I wanted to get psychoanalyzed, I still don’t remember much. It’s called a repressed memory for a reason.”
    Sun Tzu calmly reached out and tapped my arm twice in encouragement. “It’s okay, my friend. I’m sure that once you start your memory won’t fail you.”
    I immediately felt a small wave of power wash over me, and a thousand soothing voices reassured me that life was fine and all the worries I had were for nothing. I felt my mind at ease as if I’d taken the most powerful narcotic in the world. I wasn’t sure whether I was mentally floating or actually levitating on the chair in reality. I still wasn’t sure what he did to me, but strangely enough, I didn’t complain or fight back. I trusted Sun Tzu, and he had yet to give me a reason to doubt him. And besides, if there were any danger, I’m sure my old buddy, the black tree, would flash in front of my eyes once more and ruin my day. Perhaps not fighting back was part of the spell or perhaps I was overthinking it. Either way, I didn’t care. If this spell helped me remember, it was all well and good. If anything, I would get a few hours of mental peace.
    “So, where shall I start?” My voice was quiet and relaxed, almost serene.
    “Well, why don’t you start where all stories do?” Sun Tsu said. “The beginning.”

12
    Approximately 13 years ago
     
    It all started with an eleven-year-old being thrown into a puddle of mud.
    Me.
    “That’ll teach you to break my bike.” The voice belonged to one of three schoolchildren with scraped knuckles and dim looks. I forced myself up again, trying to ignore the throbbing pain on the side of my head. My sister, Gil, gasped from behind me and started crying. The three of them clenched their teeth in rage. If there is one thing bullies hate, it is when someone stands up to them. It especially hurts when it’s a little wimp like myself.
    This started when one of them shouldered me into the bike rack. I upturned a couple of bikes and used one of them as a crutch to get back up again. There was a tingling inside my chest, like lightning coursing through me. It felt warm and fuzzy, so I assumed it was due to the smack on the head I had gotten from a bike handlebar.
    But the bike I grabbed began smelling funny and felt like dust inside my palm. Looking down, I saw the skeletal structure of the bike crack and flake off. The unmistakable color of rust spread from where I clutched it, slowly spreading all over the