For Blood & Glory

by Cassandra Hendricks

  “Sefira, it’s me, Blythe. Can I come in?”

  Sefira’s heart thrummed so loudly it could’ve passed for knocking.

  “Sefira, please. Open the window!”

  Hands trembling, Sefira managed to unlatch the window and lift the pane.

  “Shh. Quiet—my family’s sleeping. What the heck are you doing? What are you standing on?” asked Sefira, exasperated.

  “I’m standing on my magic rug. C’mon Sefira, I’m levitating.”

  “You say that like it’s normal. You can levitate?”

  “Only briefly—which means I really should come in.”

  “Yeah, of course.” Blythe entered the room, soaked.

  Sefira was relieved, but somebody needed to relay that message to her heart. Her fright was coming across as irritation, but she didn’t care. “Not like you needed an invitation. I’m sure you could have gotten in on your own.” Sefira flicked on the lights.

  “Yeah,” Blythe ran fingers through wet hair that was now curly, “but that wouldn’t have been polite now, would it.”

  “Blythe,” Sefira swiped her forehead, finally beginning to truly calm down. “You scared me half to death. Why were you standing outside in the rain like some deranged psycho?” Sefira reached for a nearby towel and thrust it toward her. She didn’t take it.

  “Is this her?” Blythe asked.

  “What?” Sefira repositioned the towel inside the crux of her arm.

  “This.” For the first time, Sefira noticed Blythe held something in her hand. It looked like a sandwich bag with something in it. “I just need to know.”

  Sefira took the wet bag, studying it. A small picture was inside. After wiping her free hand on the towel, she unzipped the bag and retrieved the photo. What she saw left her breathless. “Where did you get this?” She pointed to it. “How did you—?”

  “Is that your mom?”

  “Answer the question,” demanded Sefira.

  Shifting her weight, Blythe brushed her hair from her face, averted her eyes and took a deep breath before looking into Sefira’s. “It’s my birth mom.” She briefly pressed her lips. “Natalie took it a couple days after she gave birth. It’s the only picture I have of her.” She drew another breath. “And the only picture I have of my sister.”

  An awkward silence ensued. Sefira put the picture back in the bag and gently placed it on the dresser. Exhaling, she palmed the back of her neck.

  “This isn’t a joke, is it?” She made no eye contact—she couldn’t.

  Blythe moved closer. “No.”

  Sefira closed her eyes as the sting of fresh tears besieged her. This was the moment she’d dreamt of. The one where she was supposed to jump up and down and embrace her family, teeming with joy. And yet, this revelation didn’t yield the blind emotion she’d come to expect from herself. Staring at the floor, she stood, stiffening as if she’d been cast in concrete; vaguely aware of the sound of shoes sloshing across the floor in her direction. Black boots parked themselves in front of her, followed by two arms that wrapped themselves around her back. Light at first, then tighter, as the full implications of what this meant began to sink in. Before she knew it, she was hugging this girl, this person—her sister. It was surreal, this feeling. She felt lighter somehow, as if someone had sliced the middle of her back to allow tension to oz out of it. And her heart—she couldn’t remember the last time it felt so full. Together they cried, and when they’d had their fill, they disengaged. Sefira sniffed, wiping at the endless tears streaming down her face. Slipping her fingers within her sister’s hand, she pulled Blythe over to her bed and sat down next to her. Clearing her raw and phlegmy throat to the best of her ability, she asked, “How long have you known?”

  Red-rimmed eyes stared at her. “I didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t sure. For the longest time I didn’t even know you existed.” Blythe sniffed. “And then, after I told Fredo about what happened in the alley, he decided to tell me everything he knew and gave me that picture.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Sefira rubbed her neck. “How’d you figure it all out? I mean, it’s just a picture, and we look nothing alike—do we?”

  “Geez, I hope not,” Blythe rocked backward, rolling her eyes.

  Sefira shook her head. “So that story you told me—about the doctors lying to your mother. You were talking about our mother. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind. I guess, we had always assumed the worst.”

  “We? Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Mom and I.”

  “What about our f—”

  “Oh my gosh—Mom.”

  “What?”

  “She’s been mourning all this time, and you’re alive. We’ve got to go see her now.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Blythe gave a small shrug. “Can I take that now?” She nodded toward the towel still tucked in Sefira’s arm.

  “Yeah, of course.” Sefira handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she said patting her face, then standing up to dry off. “Sorry about your bed, I didn’t mean to get it w—”

  “What do you mean you ‘guess so’?” Sefira touched her sister’s arm, interrupting her towel drying. “Blythe, you’re her daughter. She’d be thrilled to know you’re alive. Just like I am.”

  Blythe studied her for a moment, blinking, her voice tender, “Why didn’t she look for me? I mean, I know they said I died, but why didn’t she investigate? If I had a baby and somebody told me they died, I think I’d verify that.”

  Sefira’s lips pursed. “If you’re somehow thinking she didn’t care, I can guarantee you it wasn’t that.” She shifted, tucking an ankle under her thigh. “I don’t know what was going on in her life, but I know she wouldn’t purposely abandon you.”

  “Well,” Blythe said, tossing the towel over her shoulder and sitting down in a nearby chair, “didn’t she abandon you?”

  Sefira grew quiet. “That’s different.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. My mouth gets ahead of me sometimes.”

  “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. That cut deep. “I don’t have answers for you, but I’m sure she will.”

  Blythe sighed. “Tell you one thing, when we do find her it won’t be your run-of-the-mill family reunion. We are beyond strange.”

  “Not ‘strange’—special.”

  “Sisters.” Blythe shook her head, then mopped at her neck. “Freakin’ unreal.” Now, she looked contemplative. “Man, I always thought I was alone in this world, and it turns out I have a twin? We’re so different, though. I mean, look at your bedroom.” She glanced around, pointing at things around the room. “Stuffed animals and, and jewelry boxes. You’re like a serial killer.” They shared a laugh and Sefira reminded Blythe to keep quiet.

  “I get it,” Sefira said, lips pursed. “We’re different. So what? It doesn’t change the fact that we’re blood.” She clutched her temples. “Man, there’s so much I want to ask you. But first, you need a new outfit.” She went to her dresser and pulled out a shirt. “Here, put this on before you catch pneumonia,” she said, tossing it to Blythe.

  “Thanks, but I don’t need this. I’ll be back at my place in no time,” she said, tossing it back to her. Her expression became serious. “Those things, the monsters—they’re still out there, and they’re looking for us. And probably looking for your mom—I mean, for our mom—too. That thing we fought the other day specifically mentioned her. Said something about being surprised that she hadn’t taught me anything. At the time, I didn’t understand what it was talking about, but now it’s all starting to make sense. He mentioned another name, too…Nivea, I think it was. Whoever she is, she’s hunting us.”

  Sefira didn’t know what to think. So, she stood there, staring blankly.

  Blythe continued. “We haven’t even talked about our dad.”

  “What about him?”

  “I think he may be in trouble.”

  “What? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Mom said he’s dead. Why would she lie about something
like that?”

  “I’m not saying she lied. Maybe she doesn’t know—”

  “How could she not know?” Sefira returned to the bed, absentmindedly smoothing the covers. “I mean, he’s either dead or he’s alive—there’s no in between.”

  Blythe studied her. “Okay, look, I see I’ve struck a nerve—I’m not trying to hurt you, okay? I’m just telling you what I think, and I don’t think he’s dead.”

  “Okay—this is—” Sefira closed her eyes, processing. “This is too much for either one of us to handle. We’ve got to talk to Mom.”

  “Mom.” Blythe shook her head in disbelief. “It’s weird, using that word again. What’s her name? Natalie said it was Samantha, but she changed it to something else.”

  “Samantha was never her name.” Sefira shrugged. “I’m not even sure what her real name is. I just know her as Delilah.”

  Blythe chewed her lip. “About…Mom. Do you honestly think she’s in any shape to talk to us? I mean, you said she’s in a mental facility?”

  “We’re just going to have to take that chance. Did your friend come up with anything?”

  “Yeah, he’s got an address.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “You know it’s not going to be that easy, right? The place will be crawling with guards, and guards have guns. I don’t want…” Blythe looked away, her tone serious. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Sefira’s brows furrowed. “Hey, it’s a little early for you to be playing the big sister role. Besides, I might be the older one.”

  “Nah, it’s me, I can feel it.” A slow grin pushed the corners of Blythe’s mouth. “Anyway, you’re a little rusty with the whole powers thing. You sure you can handle this?”

  “My rustiness didn’t stop me from kicking your butt the other day,” Sefira teased.

  “Yeah right, you’re talking about that tree branch? That was luck,” Blythe said, crossing her legs and leaning back.

  “Listen.” Sefira leaned on a pillow. “Let’s not worry about weapons so much. We’ve got something they don’t.”

  “Yeah?” Blythe folded her arms. “What’s that, Wonder Twin?”

  “Us.”

  Blythe just looked at her. “Sefira, I’m all for this Kumbaya stuff, but we need a little more than that.” Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees. “We’ve got to be able to kick some ass.” She waved an arm. “Let me see what you workin’ with.”

  Sefira’s face scrunched. “What? Am I like trying out now?”

  “Don’t be a dork. Just show me what you can do.”

  “Fine.” Sefira drew in a breath, concentrating. The pencil box she’d knocked to the floor, as well as its spilled contents, rose from the floor, flew over Blythe’s head and landed skillfully on the desk.

  “Good. Now let’s try something else. Let me borrow your phone, I need a watch.”

  Sefira grabbed her phone off the nightstand, unlocked it and gave it to her. “Just make sure you give it back this time.”

  “Ha. Ha. Now hand me one of those books.” She nodded toward the books on the desk behind her.

  Sefira used her powers to hand one to her.

  “Now, I’m going to throw this at you and you stop it from hitting you.”

  “Huh? What kind of a test is that? Can we somehow avoid bodily injury during this assessment?”

  “No, we can’t. What do you think the guards are going to hit you with? Foosballs?”

  “I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “You can do it.”

  “I—”

  Without warning, Blythe threw the book and to Sefira’s dismay she stopped it right before it hit her chest.

  “Good,” said Blythe. “Now hold it as long as you can.”

  “I’ll try.” And she did. Two minutes and three seconds later, the book fell to the floor.

  “Not bad.”

  “Yeah.” Sefira smiled, impressing herself. “I tried to go longer, but I don’t have complete control yet. It’s like the power sort of just fades on its own.”

  Blythe nodded. “I see.”

  She didn’t look as impressed as Sefira felt. “Okay, okay. Watch this.” Sefira concentrated, lifting a magazine into the air, crumpling it into a fist-sized ball.

  Blythe’s eyebrows raised. “Nice.” She looked contemplative. “Hey, what about that thing you did in the alley? When you created that bubble or whatever. Can you replicate that?”

  “That—I don’t know.” Sefira leaned back against her dresser. “I have no idea how that happened, and it hasn’t happened since,” she said.

  “I know what you mean. I think it’s like exercising a muscle. You’ve got to work it out if you want it to get strong. Granted, I’m not a master by any means, but I’ve had more time to work it out than you have. I’ve been orbing since junior high.” She twiddled her thumbs before making her declaration. “I think I should do this alone.”

  “Alone?” Sefira placed a hand on her hip. “How are you going to rescue her when you barely even know what she looks like? You said it yourself—getting her out of there isn’t going to be a walk in the park.” Shaking her head, she continued. “No, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it together.”

  “I’m not sure….”

  “Listen, we don’t have a lot of options here. We need to find her before they do.” Sefira still sensed doubt. “Look,” she said, “we’re both learning, right? I mean, you don’t know how to turn into that creature.”

  “True, but I have found a way to utilize some of the moves without turning.”

  “Yeah.” Sefira shrugged. “Well—as you can see, I’ve been practicing too.”

  Blythe recrossed her legs, clearly mulling over the idea.

  “C’mon,” Sefira insisted. “You can’t take them all alone. Our only realistic chance would come from doing this together.”

  “If we did this, it would mean we’d have to be extra careful. We couldn’t put you in situations where you’d have to support your power for very long.” Her eyes squinted as she scratched her head. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this? Maybe we should practice more,” she said, placing the cell on the desk.

  Sefira gave her a look. “Stop worrying about me, I can hold my own. Let’s make a pact.” The floor creaked as she approached Blythe, placing her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “From here on out, we stick together.”

  Blythe nodded. “You’re right. We just have to be safe.”

  “We will be.”

  “Okay.” Blythe stood. “Saturday, you good to go?”

  “It’s all taken care of. I’m leaving on a field trip Saturday morning and Celeste doesn’t expect me back until Sunday.”

  “Good. Get some rest. You’re gonna need it. I’ll meet you at the park in front of your school tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. sharp.”

  “Make it seven. I’ve got to make it look legit.”

  “Okay, whatever works.” Blythe smiled. “See ya tomorrow.”

  “Wait.” Sefira grabbed the picture off her dresser and handed it to her.

  “You keep it,” she said, handing it back. “I want to see the real thing.”

  That was the last she saw of Blythe that night.

  Sefira crouched and gathered up everything else that fell from her desk to the floor and eyed the knob—the one from her dream. Despite her misgivings, she picked it up and prodded it with her finger. Yep. It was real. A shiver ran down her spine. This is crazy.

  Sleep didn’t come easily. Sefira’s mind was like a broken record, replaying the same thoughts over and over again. At a point, she gave up, took a hot shower and waited for sunrise.

  It took her all of five minutes to get dressed and out of the house. Usually, she liked this time of day—when the sun was a pale pearl hidden in a grey sky, the air brisk and damp and people were scarce. It gave her space. Time to think. Today proved different. Thinking made her ill. Believe it or not, there was a tipping point and she’d reached it. To do m
ore might cause her to abandon the journey altogether.

  She wore boots today. Somehow, they seemed most appropriate even though she might have to change them out. What do you wear on a rescue mission? She brought some nicer clothes and shoes in case she felt they were better suited for the task.

  These days, her mind was like a boat in turbulent seas tied to shore. Sometimes she could reel it in, other times it threatened to break free. As of late she had no control. The slightest thing might send her mind afloat. This morning, the steady clomp of her boots against the sidewalk as she traversed down the hill and around the corner reminded her of the sound her mom’s shoes used to make when she went on her “visits”. Just like that, the doubts and thoughts she’d internalized resurfaced.

  Her mom meant everything to her, so of course she wanted to see her, but was she ready to resume a relationship? How do you do that after all these years? Would mom be angry for not having sought her out earlier? There were logistical questions too. First and foremost was whether or not this whole idea was even feasible. Maybe they were just fooling themselves—a couple of naive kids playing a deadly game. If that was the case, they were putting not only their lives, but their mother’s in peril.

  Sefira turned another corner toward Shadow Oak Park with her heart in her throat. If Blythe didn’t show up, she wouldn’t blame her. But there she was, her lithe body dressed in black, sitting on a park bench.

  “Did you get everything squared away?” asked her sister looking and sounding extra chipper as she slipped her arms through her backpack. Where sleep had eluded Sefira, it must’ve given Blythe an extra helping. She never looked better. First off, her face was a clean canvas. Who knew she was that pretty underneath all that make-up? And she greeted her with a smile complete with dimples. If she were scared, she gave no indication.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I left a note for Celeste.”

  “This shouldn’t take long. I figure we’ll go get Mom and bring her back to my place.”

  “Fredo’s alright with that?” Sefira quizzed.

  “Of course. He isn’t my biological dad, but he’s the closest to one I ever had. If I’m down, he’s down.”