Silver Light

Reel Anonymous. At first she'd thought it was a joke. A cute play on words that could be brushed off as idle silliness, a prank meant to be played on the unsuspecting and gullible. What she didn't know was that the group actually existed. It wasn't until she was approached by someone, an elderly man who looked as if he'd stepped right off the silver screen itself, that she began to really believe.

He'd carried a cane with him, straight and black, capped with a silver sphere that gleamed in the soft light of her home. His skin was paper-thin, wrinkled and heavily veined, though she'd surprised at how smooth it felt when he'd proferred his hand and she'd taken it in her own.

The man had introduced himself as Charles Berringer, but the twinkle in his eye when he'd given it led her to believe there was a story behind that name, and that perhaps it wasn't the name his parents had given him. She knew that story fairly well. Having been born with a name she'd not really liked - Jessica Hare - and the jokes that had come with it, she'd eventually changed her name to Jessica Fielding, after one of her favorite characters from a little-known movie.

She and Charles had sat down to talk, and she thought back on that conversation, her lips pressing together in a thoughtful line.


"I am here," he said, "to discuss with you a matter of importance, though not of great urgency." He waited for her subtle gesture to continue. "Your grandmother and I were good friends, Miss Fielding, and she entrusted me with the task of introducing you to our society when the time had come. I know she wanted to be present..."

"The accident was tragic, but I loved my grandmother very much," interrupted Jessica, a small smile showing she meant no offense. "But forgive me, to what society are you referring?"

"Why, Reel Anonymous," he said, startled. "Did she tell you nothing of it?"

"Children's stories, certainly. I was young and gullible. Surely you don't think I would believe such things now?"

"I assure you, Miss Fielding, the society exists. And it very much needs your assistance."

"My assistance? Whatever could I do to help such a prestigious group? From what I recall of my grandmother's stories, RA is for the elites of the business, not for someone of such low class as myself." Jessica shook her head, her hand waving emphasis on the negative.

"Miss Fielding... I assure you, all of your grandmother's stories were accurate. We need your help... and your magic. Please, madam, the Silvers are once again on the move. Surely you were taught how to deal with them?"

"Mister Berringer, I'm not sure if I even believe you. Please, if you will excuse me, I have work to do." She stood abruptly and moved to the door, opening it and gesturing him out, waiting politely as he gathered himself.

Before he left her home, he paused, giving her a long, searching look. "You cannot escape fate, my dear girl. The blood of Silvers runs in your veins. There is nothing you can do to change that. Good day."


Jessica shivered, remembering that conversation, and his parting line. What had her grandmother gotten her into?