The Shadows- Fire's Hope

by E Kathryn

  Mark acquired a sideways smile. “Yeah, that’s my dad’s favorite. He gets it from international shops in the city.”

  She set the cylindrical tin down. “What city? Is it anything like Culpeper?”

  Chuckling, Mark shook his head. “Nope, New York City. It’s like fifty miles away.”

  “That’s where we are!” Rita gawked. “Why didn’t you tell me we were so close?”

  “I assumed you knew. I said New York, didn’t I?”

  “You did,” Rita hummed. “I just didn’t realize you lived so close.”

  “Fifty miles is not close,” he murmured before he realized how relative that was for someone who could teleport literally anywhere she wanted.

  Rita beamed, an ecstasy burning through her rosy cheeks. “I’ve seen pictures and heard stories of the big cities.”

  “You could go explore there, if you like,” Mark suggested, turning back from the stove to see how excited she was. “I can tell you’re dying to get out there. You’ve got the whole world now. What are you going to do with it?”

  Able to laugh, Rita sat on the table. “I suppose I should make a list. I definitely want to check out NYC. I can already check the Grand Canyon off my list, but it would be great to go back there too.”

  “I could give you some suggestions for Brooklyn if you want. That’s where my dad works. But he’s in Colorado right now for some business thing.” Mark awkwardly shoved the sizzling meat across the pan, trying not to presume to know what she wanted.

  “You could come with me.”

  Mark’s eyes widened, scared to turn around because of the tone in her voice. Why would she suggest that? She knew he had family here. He couldn’t just leave. But then, it occurred to him that Rita could be anywhere at any time. He could forget about the hours of travel itself. They could be there instantly, without an adult to drive them or traffic to worry about.

  He reluctantly found her emerald eyes, content and warm, a smile on her freckled cheeks that invited him to adventure. “Not now, obviously,” she amended, “but maybe after Sil and Emilie are with their families. Once you get a chance to settle down with your own family, make sense?”

  Her accent seemed to lighten around him, the thick Scottish tones became easier to understand, and Mark admitted, he liked it. The little touch of her foreign nature pervading her posture and her power. It was fitting. But he was still confused that someone with the power to be so distant would want to stay close to him of all people.

  “Sure,” he forced, just to get it out, then returned his attention to the pans. He got the eggs going, certain they wouldn’t take long.

  “Can I help?” Rita offered abruptly, teleporting to his side rather than walking the short distance.

  “Plates?” He finally succeeded in not jumping out of his shoes when she teleported, and he pointed to the cupboard above the corner. Rita had to stretch up on her toes to the shelf, and as she came down with six plates, she stumbled a little, nudging Mark again. He laughed and nudged her back.

  With little instruction, Rita took the plates out to the small dining room table, and Mark followed her with the pans hot off the stove. “Food’s ready,” he declared as they came into view of the living room.

  He stopped short when he saw the Shadows. June had managed to drag Sil to the floor where he compliantly allowed her to play with his long, ice-white hair. “June!” Mark gawked. “What are you doing?”

  June shot up to her feet holding the last two inches of Sil’s hair woven into a snake-like braid. “What does it look like!” She tied off the end of the braid with a little blue elastic and placed it over Sil’s shoulder caringly. “There you go.”

  Sil tolerated her, but Mark could tell by the look in his eyes as he ran his fingers along the braid that he liked it. Scoffing at his sister’s perpetually snarky attitude, Mark put his hands on his hips. “You can’t just braid a guy’s hair!”

  She stood up to him, despite their age gap, she fully understood her only sibling and loved getting under his skin. “Can and did! Just look at his hair. It’s over two feet long and perfect!”

  Sil gently took June’s hands off him and rose, sweetly patting her shoulder before muttering, “Relax, you don’t have to defend me.” He shot a piercing golden glare at Mark.

  Forcing himself to let it go, Mark scoffed at Sil dismissively, but as he turned, he spied his mother finally approaching from the hall. “Is something burning?” she muttered, scanning the room and expecting to see smoke.

  Rita stepped up beside Mark without a teleport and nudged him in the side again, jeeringly. “Just breakfast,” she assured for him, simultaneously jabbing at Mark’s fire Shadow.

  “Ah.” She nodded, seeing the hot food set on the dining room table. “Remind me your name?”

  Straightening her back, she adopted a beaming smile. “Rita, Shadow Teleport.”

  Emilie flitted through the air over Mark’s head towards the food, selfishly digging in, but June beat her to the chase. “And what about her?” Marissa asked, gesturing to the girl with her feet high in the air while she loaded up her plate.

  Mark chuckled at the touch of sarcasm in his mom’s voice and scurried over to drag Emilie to the floor. “This…” he hummed, finding it surprisingly easy to pull her through the air now that she had food, “is Emilie Meyvise!”

  Her jaw dropping open, Marissa gaped at Emilie, assessing her up and down before covering her mouth. “Meyvise? That’s im—you’re Hellen’s daughter!”

  Stubbornly, Emilie kept her feet off the floor, but a bitterness appeared in her face. Mark saw it and let his cousin go, allowing her to sink slightly. As much as he didn’t want to pry, the Realm declared that Emilie was incredibly hesitant to meet her mother, and she had a touch of resentment in her stance.

  “Well, say something,” Marissa pled abruptly, just happy to meet her niece.

  Emilie’s eyes flashed, a dangerous look that startled Mark’s mother. “Who is she to you?”

  A little startled, Marissa forced, “She’s my sister. I was pregnant with Mark the same time she was pregnant with you.” She seemed a little more taken aback by the need to relive that nine-months of her life, than to justify her relationship with her sister. Being pregnant together was the only positive memory Mark had ever heard about his aunt.

  Sil inched his way toward the table, his braid dangling over his chest and his shoulder arched awkwardly with the new weight. He took a seat with a starkly straight back and when he attempted to help himself to food, June rushed around the table to sit beside him. The faintest smile appeared on Sil’s lips when she did this, and Mark tried not to ruin how adorable it was that his sister had latched on to the Shadow he had been so terrified of.

  Joining them on the opposite side of the table, Mark cleared his throat. “Do you want to go see your family today?” he offered a bit too excitedly. Rita appeared in the seat beside him, and once more, she scared the wits out of him. Why couldn’t she just walk?

  Sil swallowed anxiously, and with much debate inside himself, he mustered softly, “No.” Cringing a little, Sil refused to meet eyes with Mark’s surprised expression. “I have no idea what I’m going to say. I want some time to think it over.”

  “Fair enough,” Mark shrugged, serving up his plate.

  At last, Marissa took the head of the table, but she didn’t fill a plate. “Do you have any clue who your parents are?” she wondered flatly, not terribly confident in receiving an answer.

  In the midst of a half-nod, Sil was interrupted by Mark’s overzealous nature. “He’s Zachary Addison. We found out he has a—” Sil kicked Mark in the shin under the table impossibly hard, and Mark winced with an open mouth, feeling as if he had been stabbed in the leg with an ice pick. Effectively shut up, he had to check to make sure Sil hadn’t shredded his leg.

  Marissa hardly took note of the violence under the table. “Oh, wow, Arianne too…” her eyes fell tender, missing the brief instant Sil seemed surprised by her
reaction. She nodded to herself slowly, contemplating the information. “I can’t say you look a lot like them,” she mused based on his hair and eyes, “but Arianne did have a Shadow who’d be about your age.”

  Mark watched Sil acutely, pausing in between bites to see Sil’s eyes flare to cyan. A stir of enthusiasm in his posture, Sil’s lips parted in anticipation, no one could be sure, but he had hope. He was getting excited, Mark could tell.

  “I’m going to have to call the Addisons to see if you could come over,” Marissa rambled, massaging her temple, “and I’m going to have to call Jan.”

  Mark’s limbs stiffened. In an instant, his appetite was gone. His back ached like he had been struck again. “When is—” he cleared his throat, “when is Dad coming home?”

  Stumbling, Marissa got up from the table and headed toward the kitchen. “He was supposed to get back later this week. In all this craziness, I still haven’t got the chance to talk to him.” She stopped at the coffee pot, tiredly setting it to brew since she filled it the night before on habit.

  Mark crossed his arms over his chest and collapsed against the back of his chair, groaning. His mother was right. In all this craziness, he had hardly gotten a moment to think about all the stresses with his father. Between the fried laptop, the Shadow thing, and all of January’s ticks, Mark had put all of it out of his mind.

  “What’s wrong?” Rita wondered, a little startled by Mark’s sour attitude.

  Heaving a sigh, Mark seethed. “Nothing… my dad’s just not all there.” The disdain in his voice shocked everyone at the table except June, who obliviously combined her eggs and sausage on her plate.

  Marissa returned with a cup of coffee after several uncomfortable minutes. “January has very little memory of his life before he married me.” She stirred the mug as she sat at the table, cautiously sipping the black coffee and ignoring the heat.

  That’s an understatement, Mark thought. His dad had no memory of anything before he was eighteen, no family, no homes, and a twinge of an accent in his voice, which had all but diminished. He was distant, just trying to take care of his family, and primarily working himself to death in Brooklyn.

  Still Mark grimaced. Sometimes he wished he could rely on his father for everything from homework to moral support, but he was never there. Sometimes he wondered why his mother even married the amnesiac. Even though everyone in the household knew about it, no one talked about it like this, leaving both Mark and his mom in unspoken frustration.

  Marissa pressed her lips together, now refusing to call January altogether. “Your father will be coming home soon enough. We’ll tell him then…”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Mark asked.

  Marissa shook her head. “Probably not.”

  June finished off her plate and picked it up, responsibly taking it away and offering to take Sil’s with her, but not Emilie’s or anyone else’s.

  “June,” Marissa reprimanded her lovingly, “why don’t you take everyone’s plates to the dishwasher?”

  The girl grumbled but complied. In spite of her spunk, she was ultimately far more good-natured than Mark was.

  Mark spotted Sil jittering nervously. Even being cryokinetic, Sil was visibly shivering, unsettled with the knowledge that very soon he would be meeting his family for the first time. He had changed since Mark first met him. He had lowered his guard, and seeing him nervous was an entirely new trait.

  Mark caught Sil ritualistically pulling his white braid over his shoulder and proceed to fiddle with it. Suddenly, Sil jumped, realizing what he was doing. He had just fully brushed his hair out, if he started braiding again his hair would look exactly as it had. The change in Sil desired clean, well-kempt hair, not a mass of poorly weaved braids.

  “What?” Mark muttered seeing his fiddling.

  Sil ran his fingers back through the long white spider silk to unweave the braid as he grumbled, “Breaking the habit… it’s hard,” he admitted.

  Mark knitted his brows together. “So, you braid your hair when you’re nervous?”

  Sil shrugged. “Nervous, cold, hot, irritated, injured… I actually think I started because of Kimberly soon after my run in with Kip. It’s sort of a coping mechanism.” He smoothed out the spindly strands on the end of the tassel.

  With breakfast cleaned up, the five of them moved to the couch, already trying to make themselves at home which was easier when June went straight for the video game console. Mark caught himself inhaling to comment along the lines of the odd possibility of Sil getting cold, but his thought was stopped as he noticed June eyeing Sil up. “Why is your hair so long?” she asked out of nowhere.

  Sil tensed a little and eyed her in return, confused. “‘Cause I never cut it,” he stated flatly in a somewhat raised voice, “What’s wrong with it?”

  June grinned a little sadistically. “Mark doesn’t like cutting his hair either, but Mom makes him keep it short…”

  Mark felt the need to scratch his head while his little sister spoke of him. It was true. He protested, ardently, whenever his mother insisted his thick black ocean found itself too long. It was on his neck now, and his bangs had gotten long. It wouldn’t be long before his mother started hounding him about it, especially with this conversation. She heard everything. Nothing escaped her ears.

  June giggled seeing Mark fretting. “And he gets more red strikes when he’s stressed!” she added gleefully to irritate him.

  “I do not!” Mark snapped predictably.

  June nodded eagerly. “Yes, you do! Last July you didn’t have the one on top of your head. It’s from our trip to Luray. We had to stay in a hotel, and you freaked out whenever you had to go in the elevator!”

  Mark’s eyes widened as did the Shadows’. “Shut up, June!” he hoarsely demanded trying to hide his fear of elevators from everyone. It wasn’t a fear… he just didn’t feel safe.

  Sil chuckled in his low mocking laugh. “I bet there’s a story behind every red strike…” he mused intrigued and relying on the historian for an explanation. Mark sank into the couch, embarrassed, but Sil laughed, the smile warming his heart and allowing Mark to lighten up.

  He was able to seep into conversation to help June set up a game and to show Sil how to use the controller so he could play with her. Sil was terrible at it, of course, but he seemed to like playing with June. Rita plopped onto the couch next to Mark and he perked up, glancing around to point out, “Where’s Emilie?”

  “Spreading her wings,” Sil mused, half-focused on June’s game. “Does she not have the right to use her powers?” Forfeiting the game, he turned to Mark. “She’s been waiting all her life to have the freedom to fly wherever she wants. She’ll be back when she wants to.”

  “When did she leave?” Mark asked, worried on instinct but not sure why.

  “Obviously, you weren’t paying attention,” Sil jabbed at him. “Don’t think about it too hard. She can handle herself.”

  Mark tried not to scoff. Emilie had scrawny legs and had been sheltered all her life. How on Earth could she handle herself other than running away?

  “I should go,” Rita murmured from beside him, a darkness in her voice as she forced herself to entertain the thoughts of facing her family again.

  Mark’s crimson eyes flashed with panic. No part of him wanted her to leave, apart from being quick transportation back to the ASH and Kip, he liked having her around. Also, she was the only one keeping him from freaking out in the presence of his own mother. He wanted to protest, but all he choked out was “Why?”

  Hugging her arm, Rita pinched herself. “Emilie is taking advantage of her powers. She’s doing what she’s always wanted. I need to talk to my family. I need to at least let them know I’m okay. I mean, I’m not like the other Shadows. I’ve been gone four years; they must think I’m dead.”

  Seething inside, Mark gritted his teeth. She had a fair point, Sil and Emilie had every reason to be nervous to meet their families, but Rita already knew hers.
<
br />   “I’ll come back,” she promised, “and there’s always the Realm. You can talk to me in there if you want me to teleport over.”

  Still wanting to cling to her, Mark frowned, but nodded. She had every right to get out there and be free. He couldn’t hold her down, just like Sil wouldn’t hold Emilie back. “Be safe, okay?”

  Smirking, Rita nodded, “Of course, and I’ll be back to let you know how it goes!”

  Even beside each other on the couch, Mark felt her drifting away. Sil seeming perfectly content to watch them from the floor in front of the small TV with June. His mother had drifted off with her coffee cup, and once more, Mark felt uncomfortable being alone. He needed to be with the Shadows, to use his Shadow, and to refine it. Even outside the ASH, he knew how important that was.

  One last time, Rita nudged him in the side, elbowing him nice and hard, before she instated her power and teleported from the couch, leaving him behind. All at once, Mark felt it was wrong that they had left the ASH. Keller had been right in some ways. In spite of the last few days, fighting to get out, Mark wanted to go back.

  XXII

  FAMILY

  November 1, 2030

  “Press Start” blinked like a heartbeat across the screen, bright and revitalizing. It was welcoming, but Mark wasn’t sure if he wanted to sink into it. The controller felt uncomfortable in his hands, even though it had only been a few days. He put on his over-ear headset, and quietly connected them to the TV in his room, never feeling more awkward in his life.

  Beside him on an air mattress, Sil had been given space in the cramped, dark bedroom, where he slept soundly. Mark had had people spend the night before, mostly Gary, but it was beyond unnerving to have Sil in his room. The ice Shadow made the air frigid to compensate for the way Mark’s dark blinds intensified the heat in the tiny room.

  Mark wished he could have been asleep right now, but between being too nervous, and unusually cold, his unsettled stomach woke him before the dawn. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten up to game this early. When he had his laptop, he would occasionally stay online all night until his mom caught onto that.