Dreams of Fire

by Christian Cura

  “Great selection for tonight,” Selene said around a mouthful of noodles.

  Kara chewed and swallowed. “Elton John has always been one of my favorites. I remember hearing my mom play his music in her studio while she worked and I would always sing along to myself.”

  “What other music do you like?” Selene asked.

  “I really like Joan Jett, Tom Petty, Billy Joel and Phil Collins,” Kara answered after she chewed her noodles.

  Selene tipped a bottle of beer at her lips. “So, you really like old music, huh?”

  “Yes. The quality of older music is leagues above anything released today.”

  Selene nodded and stuffed more noodles into her mouth. “Kids these days don’t know what real music is.”

  “Preach, girl,” Kara replied. They high fived each other across the table. Selene tossed her head back and downed a beer.

  “So how was your day, today?” Selene said after she swallowed.

  “A little busier than usual. In the morning I knocked out some commissions and in the afternoon I was getting my portfolio ready for the exhibition coming up.”

  “Oh yeah, that sounds like a big deal.” Selene replied.

  Kara nodded. “It is. A lot of collectors are going to be there. It could generate a lot of business for me.” said she. “And…I’d really love to see you there.”

  A corner of Selene’s mouth rose. “Of course.”

  “It’s going to be a formal event so…” Kara began.

  “Oh, God! I have to wear a dress?” Selene exclaimed.

  Kara chuckled and nodded.

  “All riiiight…” Selene said as she continued to eat.

  They ate quietly for a few moments as the rhythm of guitars softly played in the background. Amid the clinking of their silverware, they felt words were unnecessary. It was enough the other one was there, living and feeling the moment together. After a hectic day, Kara’s presence was a balm to her nerves. Selene looked at Kara and smiled softly. Kara caught her gaze as she swallowed.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Selene replied. “I’m…just glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” Kara answered.

  The song ended and after a moment of silence a gentle piano riff began to play. Kara’s eyes lit up with recognition as she took a sip of beer. She softly began to sing along with the lyrics as she swayed to the rhythm. Selene paused as she brought her fork up to her mouth and simply listened as the beautiful woman before her sang softly. She lowered her fork and reclined against the couch as Kara kept perfect time with the track.

  Kara opened her eyes and saw Selene’s gaze fixed on her. She blushed and laughed at herself. Then Selene rose and extended her hand to Kara. “Care for a dance?”

  Kara placed her hand in Selene’s and stood up as she wrapped her arm around her waist. They began to sway slowly as the music continued to play.

  The music filled their ears as they swayed slowly together. The stress of Selene’s day melted into nothing under the soft sound of Kara’s humming. She stood there, graceful and demure; a flower in the hands of a weary warrior. Selene smiled quietly as she looked deep into Kara’s brown eyes. There were few moments of bliss in Selene’s recent years and she was grateful to share this one with Kara. She breathed her perfume and felt her smooth, supple hand in her own. Selene savored every minute detail and locked it away in a vault deep within herself so that when times grew dark and cold once more, this one golden memory could bring her a spark of joy.

  John Hartman, Prison, Canadian Wilderness, Present

  John sat down with his closest officers as they congregated in the mess hall for their lunch hour. The clanging of pots and pans rang out from the kitchen behind them along with the faint hiss of sizzling meat on the grill. The hum of conversation filled the room and gradually became louder as Enforcers trickled into the chamber. Marcus sat directly across from John and devoured his roasted vegetables as if he had not eaten for a week. Rachel glanced at him sideways with an amused twinkle in her eyes while she sipped wine from a silver goblet.

  Amelia took a seat beside him and began to cut into her steak. John took a bite of roasted chicken and washed it down with a gulp of water.

  “So how is your sister doing, John?” Rachel asked before taking a bite of roasted squash.

  “She’s doing very well,” John replied. “She just moved out to D.C. and she loves it there.”

  “Really? What neighborhood does she live in?”

  “She’s living at the waterfront with a view of the river,” John answered. He bit into a warm bread roll and chewed.

  “Oh my!” Rachel replied.

  “Yes. She’s been bombarding my phone with images of her new place all day,” John rolled his eyes.

  Rachel and Amelia giggled.

  “Kara is a painter, isn’t she?” Amelia asked around a mouthful of vegetables.

  “That’s right. And a damn good one too. I’m very proud of her.”

  “Awww.” Rachel replied before she took another bite.

  John turned his gaze to Amelia. “How are the new recruits?”

  “They’re doing very well for the most part.” Amelia answered. “We have many competent fighters in this batch.”

  “Good.” John said. “And you, Marcus? What are your impressions of them?”

  “Bunch o’ lazy turds!” Marcus exclaimed around a mouthful of vegetables. “It took me forever to drag them out of bed this morning. I even had to crack my whip on one of them for running too slow.”

  “Which one?” John asked as he spread butter on a roll of bread.

  “The short, Middle-Eastern girl,” Marcus said.

  “Ah. You mean Saba Qureshi.” John answered before he took a bite.

  “She does seem to struggle a bit,” Amelia added. “But I think she has a lot of potential.”

  “We’re gonna have to put her through hell to uncover it,” Marcus cleaned off his tray.

  “Happy to volunteer,” added Rachel.

  Amelia glanced at her sideways. “How did I know you were going to say that?

  Amelia Schumacher, Prison Canadian Wilderness, Present

  An iron-grey sky hung above the prison as Amelia stood before Marcus, Rachel and Saba in the training arena. Saba stood between the other two, a full head and shoulders shorter than the others. Her dark eyes were focused ahead while she did her best to look beyond Amelia’s scrutinizing gaze. The cold breeze blew her long bangs across her face as she gestured with her hands in unison with Marcus and Rachel. The spell they rehearsed was called the Champion Ward, meant to be used for crowd control. The three Enforcers spoke the incantation flawlessly and their fingers moved with effortless dexterity despite the cold. Amelia could feel the currents of magic flow around her like a hot wind that swirled about the arena. The air seemed to ripple as their energy rose like a charging tidal wave. All around Amelia, vertical slits of light appeared and widened into the shape of swords. They glowed brightly in each of the Enforcers’ respective colors. The purple swords belonged to Marcus, the orange to Rachel and the red to Saba. The three of them continued to gesture fluidly as the circle of swords expanded to encompass the arena. But as the circle grew larger, Saba’s swords began to flicker erratically. Anxiety tinged her heart and she tried to re-focus on the spell. She stumbled in her articulation and then missed a gesture in the sequence. Her crimson blades flickered one last time before they vanished from the circle entirely. Marcus and Rachel continued the spell without her. Saba sighed in frustration and dropped her eyes to the ground. Amelia signaled to Marcus and Rachel to halt their casting. They released the spell immediately and their swords evaporated into nothing.

  “Maintain your focus, Saba.” Amelia said stiffly. “Stop worrying about what I think of you and just cast.”

  “Apologies, ma’am. I will do better,” Saba replied quietly.

  Amelia simply nodded. “Again!” she commanded.

  They cast the spell several more
times but Saba only executed it perfectly once. Amelia kept her face neutral as she analyzed her skill. She could feel there was potential within her, but something was holding her back. What it was exactly, Amelia could not say. Despite her lackluster training session, Amelia was certain Saba could handle a few petty rogues. Though, she would probably have to be sidelined for the Enforcers’ most critical battles…at least for now.

  When their two-hour training session was complete, Amelia dismissed Marcus and Saba but held Rachel back for a moment. She turned toward Amelia while Marcus and Saba re-entered the administrative wing.

  “I am assigning Saba to you as your partner in the field.” Amelia said. “Make sure she gets plenty of extra training, especially sparring.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rachel replied.

  “Dismissed.”

  As the sun waned over the prison grounds, the night shift Enforcers took over operations while the day shift retired for the evening. Only a meager skeleton crew patrolled the corridors and the outer walls under the dull crimson glow of the Tower. The golden-orange rays of the sunset beamed through the window of the commons area while John reclined with his closest officers. He sat in a chair hunched over a guitar while his fingers strummed lightly on the strings. Marcus sat in the chair to his left and sang the lyrics as Rachel and Amelia listened fondly on the couch across from them. In the middle of the second verse, Saba quietly entered the commons and paused as she walked by them. She turned and gravitated toward them as John and Marcus continued to play. Rachel and Amelia were seemingly unaware of her presence so entranced were they by the music. She found their harmony pleasant to her ears and she tarried to listen awhile. Just then, Amelia saw her standing on the edge of her periphery then turned her head and grinned at her. John and Marcus concluded their song to the applause of Rachel and Amelia.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Marcus said. “We’ll be doing autographs after the show.”

  Rachel and Amelia chuckled quietly. Rachel looked over and noticed Saba for the first time. “It looks like you’ve acquired one more fan.”

  “Ah. Did you enjoy the performance?” John asked.

  “Yes. Very much,” Saba replied timidly.

  “Glad to hear it. That was Hotel California by the Eagles.”

  “Of course. I thought I recognized it. Do you perform often?” Saba asked.

  “Marcus and I do this almost every evening,” said John.

  Amelia gestured for Saba to sit next to her and she quietly took a seat on the couch.

  “You know John, you’ve really come a long way in your guitar playing. Especially since you only started a couple of years ago.” Rachel said.

  “Thank you, Rachel.”

  “Only a couple of years ago? You play as if you’ve done it your whole life,” Saba interjected.

  “It’s funny you should say that. I was never actually interested before. I only picked it up after my brother, Anthony, passed away. He was quite a musician. I always found him in his room composing his own songs and scribbling down lyrics at two in the morning.” he said with a faint chuckle. “He tried to teach me to play but I was not fond of it. The finger positions were so awkward for me. I was content to just let him do all the playing.”

  “I’m sorry to hear he’s gone,” Saba replied. “You two seemed very close.”

  “We were. And I’d like to think we still are,” John played a gentle riff. Suddenly, Saba’s head tilted to one side and her dark eyes focused sharply on the guitar.

  “That guitar was Anthony’s wasn’t it?” Saba asked. John paused in his riff and let the note hang in the air as Amelia and Rachel exchanged a sidelong look.

  “Yes…it was. How did you know that?” John replied.

  Saba looked up at him once again. She grinned slightly. “Just a lucky guess.” Marcus stared intently at Saba his gaze tinged with suspicion. “Well, I think I should retire to my quarters,” Saba rose to her feet. “Have a good evening, everyone.”

  “Goodnight,” they all replied after a brief pause.

  Chapter Three

  Kara Hartman District Wharf, District of Columbia, Present

  On Sunday morning, Kara bustled about the kitchen preparing a pasta dish and a loaf of garlic bread. Noodles boiled in the pot while the aroma of garlic filled her nostrils. She threw in a pinch of salt on the pasta as Tiny Dancer played in her mind over and over. Kara smiled to herself when she thought of how she and Selene had danced in her apartment. Unfortunately, she was not cooking for Selene. Her parents were coming to visit.

  After weeks and weeks of her mother’s nagging she could no longer avoid it. Kara’s mother had been insisting for some time but she always had an excuse. Kara was not finished unpacking and decorating or she was too busy with work. But after stealing an hour here and an hour there, everything was in place. So, at long last, Kara relented.

  When the food was done, she set the table and waited patiently for her parents to arrive. Kara fussed needlessly over the couch pillows and the framed artwork on the wall. She sat at the table and responded to a few comments from her fans. Then the doorbell rang.

  Kara took a deep breath and answered the door. Outside in the corridor stood her mother and father. They smiled and greeted her warmly. Kar embraced both of them and welcome them inside. Kara’s mother, Joy, entered the living room and cast an appraising look on her surroundings. Wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes and her long golden hair which fell to her shoulders was streaked with silver. A white coat hung upon her dainty shoulders along with a large purse.

  “What a lovely place,” she said with a gentle smile.

  “Thanks, Mom. Let me take your coat.” Kara’s mother handed her coat to her daughter who hung it in a closet by the door.

  Her father, David, stood beside Joy and took in the view of the Potomac. The light from outside gleamed softly against the frames of his glasses. His short, curly brown hair was peppered with gray and he wore a simple sweater with a zip-up collar.

  “That’s a great view out there!” he said.

  “Yeah, I love it here. Are you hungry?”

  “Famished!” said Joy.

  Kara and her parents sat down at the table and began to eat. They mmm-ed appreciatively around mouthfuls of pasta in the placid quietness of their daughter’s apartment. In between bites, she spoke casually with her parents about their work and hers and about upcoming trips. Joy was in the middle of revising a corporate logo for the “millionth” time which she said with a groan.

  Kara chortled.

  For the next few minutes they ate quietly with nothing but the sound of clinking silverware to be heard. The bright winter sunlight bathed the living room in a gentle white glow as the waters of the Potomac drifted lazily past the waterfront. They finished their lunch with full stomachs and Kara collected their plates. She placed the dishes in the sink and brought out a loaf of tiramisu for dessert.

  While they ate, Kara looked up and broke the silence. “Mom? Dad? There’s something I would like to tell you.”

  Joy’s eyebrows shot up inquisitively. “What is it, dear?”

  “I’ve met someone.”

  “Really? Who is she?”

  “Her name is Selene. We met each other at the Santos party.”

  “How did Selene come to know the Santos family?” her father asked.

  “They hired her for security.” Kara answered. “She’s a demon-hunter.” she added after a moment of hesitation.

  Joy’s eyes went wide with astonishment. She nodded slowly. “Interesting line of work. What’s she like?”

  “Mom, I really like her. She has this way of looking at me that makes me feel like I’m lost in her eyes. And she’s so funny, brave and beautiful.” Kara answered.

  Joy gave her husband a sidelong look. “Honey, I’m happy for you. But are you sure you should be associating with someone of Selene’s background? I just want you to be safe, Kara.” said her mother.

  “I know, Mom. But really, it’s fine. We
fought off a Hound together.”

  “A Hound! Those terrible wolf creatures?” her mother exclaimed.

  “Dear, it’s all right. She obviously came out unscathed.”

  “Kara, your father and I moved out of the city so that we could raise you in a safe environment. I don’t need you to thrust yourself back into danger.”

  Kara sighed. “Mom, I can take care of myself.”

  “Joy, she’s old enough to make her own choices.” her father said.

  “Thank you, daddy.”

  “I will not have my daughter fighting demons with some woman!” said her mother.

  “When we lived in the city before, John, Anthony and I fought our way through countless scrapes!”

  “But your brothers aren’t around anymore.” Joy exclaimed. “John is up there in Canada and Anthony is gone! I’m not about to lose my baby girl, too.”

  A cold dagger stabbed into Kara’s stomach at the mention of his name. She remembered a pale corpse stretched amid a cloud of shattered glass. A pool of blood expanded around his limbs which were frozen in death. She saw her mother’s expression soften. “Honey, I’m sorry.” Joy reached across the table to touch Kara’s hand but she withdrew it quickly.

  Conversation was sparse for the rest of the meal. All that could be heard was the clinking of silverware while they ate. When her parents left, she embraced them in a perfunctory manner and shut the door with relief at their departure.

  John Hartman Prison, Canadian Wilderness, Present

  John walked up the corridor beneath the eerie glow of the orbs of light. A chill draft blew through the passage as his steps echoed off the cold stone walls. He walked past dark steel doors of cells that housed numerous rogues whom he and his comrades had apprehended. Every door was a memory of battle, death and tragedy. John Hartman’s quest to make the world safer had cost him much over the years. He had lost several comrades, been injured and nearly killed more times than he could count. Now as he walked toward the last cell in the passage, he delivered a meal to the woman who had exacted the highest price of all.