by Jenn Nixon
Cyndra clutched her sai, dreading another fight, considering how rusty she turned out to be and gazed over at the equally scared yet determined man at her side. Given his strength and skills, Rune’s fear only heightened hers as she turned back to face the creatures, ready to fight.
That was the only way to survive these days.
Zorin had only intended to stop to rest and eat a squirrel he’d caught earlier. He fought the weariness, but eventually, exhaustion took over. When he heard her voice calling to him, he knew he had fallen asleep.
Ignoring her lengthened the time he’d spend dreaming, so he waited for Mergan to call once more before responding.
I can hear you.
Have you found the casters? she asked with a dark urgency to her tone.
I am on the trail.
Good. Find them and return soon then we can both be free.
Forcing himself awake, Zorin jerked on the rock he used as a bed and bolted upright. He took in his surroundings, slowly remembering his current location. He was near the edge of what was left of Fredericksburg after the war.
Grateful for the sun, he stood and stretched his limbs and wings, breathing in the air, bringing not only the wonderful scent of trees and animals but the crystal’s power floating on the wind.
He jumped from the rock to a thick ghostwood branch and then hopped to another higher tree branch to see farther. Only a hundred yards of woods came between him and the main road leading to town.
Zorin extended his wings and leaped into the air. He circled his immediate area to get the full view before cascading down, heading toward the road, following the draw of the crystal, and absorbing the particles saturating the entire area.
An explosive surge of caster power spilled into the air. Zorin tucked his wings and swooped down, speeding toward the ground.
He saw them before sensing them.
Four mirror-wraiths emerged from the trees, their focus solely on the two people standing in the middle of an abandoned cul de sac.
Zorin landed between the humans and mirror-wraiths surprised at their presence so far inland. The woman behind him gasped and her incredible fire blasted his skin. She was the caster he sensed on the island. The wraiths floated closer, drawn to her, boiling his blood and testing his temper. Zorin locked his gaze on the first pair. They instantly vanished while the other two lingered, floating higher in the air to look over his head. Zorin growled and spread his wings, drawing their mirrored gaze. The wraiths swayed side-to-side for a moment then faded back into the woods and vanished.
“Don’t,” the woman whispered.
Zorin felt fingers on his wing and spun around, clasping the man’s wrist, stunned at the alarm on his face. “You see me?”
The man nodded and glanced back to the woman, who mimicked the gesture.
This caster was as strong as the woman and his power flooded the gap between them. Using every measure of control he had not to absorb it, Zorin grunted, shoved the man backward, and tucked his wings close to his shoulders. Shocked and grateful they had the ability to see him, yet curious what they actually saw, Zorin opened the mental crystal bond and frowned as the word crossed the man’s mind.
“I’m not a gargoyle,” Zorin spat, huffing and clenching his jaw to calm down so he wouldn’t scare them further. The wide-eyed woman, dressed like a true survivor, held a lonely sai in her shaking hand, determined to protect herself. A quality he admired. He met her eyes. “Where did the wraiths come from?”
“The forest, the uh, crazy lady,” she began, glancing over toward the bushes and furrowing her brow. “They were right there.”
The soulless brought the wraiths here. The man’s frustrated thoughts echoed in Zorin’s mind as his hands created symbols and lettering that seemed familiar.
Soulless? he thought back.
The man gasped. You can hear me?
“Of course.”
“What?” the woman asked, looking between them both.
“Your friend said something called soulless brought the wraiths here,” Zorin replied, feeling the strength of the crystal’s power encase him from both sides now.
“Soulless? The weirdo people who attacked us?” She tilted her head to the side. “Whoa, hang on, he didn’t say anything.”
“I heard him.”
“How?”
Zorin sighed. “It’s part of the crystal bond. You can, too, if you make physical contact.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, unmoving from her wide berth, calming slightly by the look in her bright hazel eyes. “Who are you?”
“Zorin.”
“I’m Cyndra, he’s Rune…I think.”
Rune nodded.
“What—”
“I am, is of no consequence,” Zorin snapped.
“Not what I was going to say,” she barked back, gripping the handle of her weapon even tighter. “What were those wraith things?”
“You’re a caster, don’t you know?” Then he countered, “What are soulless?”
“What’s a caster?” she asked.
“You truly don’t know?” Zorin crinkled his brow and watched the man, Rune, moving to her side and offering his hand. Although she seemed hesitant, she clasped it and gasped loudly when the temperature rose around the immediate area. Zorin frowned as surprise and confusion filled both their eyes. Didn’t they know the element they shared? Had Mergan lied again? These were not reawakened casters, they had no knowledge of their lineage or power. “What happened to you?”
“Wow,” Cyndra said softly, ignoring his question and furrowing her brow. “Wait, Rune, slow down…You saw them before? What are they? I don’t understand any of this.”
“Obviously not,” he rumbled.
“Listen here, Zorin,” she said, spinning around and pointing her weapon at his chest. “I’ve got enough fucking problems to fill the darklands and having some snarky, unhelpful gargoyle—”
“I am not—” He lurched forward, inches from her face, and glared into her greenish-brown eyes. The shape and color were too recognizable to brush aside. Along with the awful scent of fish and chemical laced food products, Zorin sensed the unique, untapped energy pulsing through her body and realized the familial ties. “You’re related to the Shield.”
“Enough, just…shut the fuck up!” Cyndra yelled, covering her dirty face and shaking her head.
A mixture of panic and curiosity seeped through her fire. Her tremendous energy, however, tempted Zorin’s control to absorb it even more. To be near another energycaster after so many years…
Rune scuttled closer, rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced over. You know what casters...what we are, don’t you?
He nodded. “What are the soulless?”
Not sure, just a name I gave them…by how I felt around them when they appeared, seemed appropriate. He shrugged. They suck the life right out of us if they get close. You don’t know what they are either?
Sighing, Zorin shook his head, more concerned than before and stepped away from both, thinking he should start from the beginning to learn how much they did or did not know. They appeared old enough to have seen the world as it was before. “What do you remember about the war?”
“Huh?” she said.
What war? Rune asked.
Zorin glowered. “What do you think happened to the planet, to make it the way it is now?”
“Same as everyone, a solar flare twenty-five years ago,” Cyndra answered and her friend nodded along.
“Everyone believes this?” He gaped as Rune affirmed again. “Impossible.”
“Uh, no, history,” Cyndra said. Zorin scoffed at her. “You’re saying a solar flare isn’t the cause of the darklands?”
“Flare, yes. Solar, no,” Zorin replied, shaking his head and gazing back toward his island home. He should never have left. Everything about this situation felt wrong. The casters didn’t know what they were. They knew nothing about the crystal’s power. They were newly awakened and untrained, practically useless.
>
“Then what was it?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip while Rune nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.
Answering their questions may never end. Explaining the world as it was before and how it came to be was not his responsibility. Yet, he needed their help and had only one course of action, honesty. Frowning, he met her eyes, seeing the same determination he’d seen twenty-five years ago when her grandparents came to the island to stop Mergan. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear the truth, Cyndra Raine.”
“How do you—” Cyndra’s overstuffed mind held too many questions to think clearly enough to respond without going off the deep end. She shook her head at the gargoyle who somehow knew her family name and walked away, totally done with him. She mocked his snooty tone as she looked for a place to rest and reflect for a minute.
Sitting on the nearest broken staircase, she set her backpack down and rubbed her face with one extremely warm hand. After slipping her sai into her belt and stretching her neck, she retrieved a bottle of water from the side pocket and took a long sip. Even though she wanted answers, sanity seemed more important right now. With fireballs, wraiths, and gargoyles, she was certain she lost her mind, completely.
All of this was probably just a bad trip from some wild ‘shrooms.
Then the reason she ran popped to the front of her mind. Cyndra saw the old man crumble. Felt the heat encase her skin. She forcibly shook her body, trying to tamp it all down. She needed to keep moving, get far away from Turner’s Village while she had daylight on her back.
Rune came over and dipped his head down to the water bottle. She offered it freely, taking his smile as payment. When done, he handed it back and pressed his fingertips to his chin then moved it forward in her direction.
“You’re welcome,” she replied. Then she blinked and tilted her head.
You do know sign, he projected into her mind again as he sat down. The sensation was still weird, but this time it didn’t feel as uncomfortable.
“If I do, I honestly don’t remember. Seems a common theme,” Cyndra said, shrugging. “I think we have more urgent things to talk about now that we can.”
I think he’ll help us, Rune said.
“The garg—Zorin? Why do you think that?”
He chased away those wraiths, and if he meant us harm, we’d already be dead. Besides, he knows more than we do.
“Guess that’s true.” Cyndra glanced over her shoulder, taking in the sight of the winged man, trying to keep her curiosity and fear at bay. Wearing only a pair of tattered trousers cut at the knee, Zorin paced the road mumbling softly. With the exception of his gray skin and inhumanly large build, he looked like a man. A big, scary man, with dark hair, vacant blue eyes, and a pair of bat-like wings that spanned the width of her trailer.
Rune leaned forward to catch her eye. Your crystal, where did you get it?
“Grandmother and you?”
Left to me by my father. Rune frowned. I can’t recall much.
“Now that I think about it…I don’t have many memories of her or my parents either, just the stories my grandfather told me,” Cyndra said, sighing. “Do you know why they called us casters?”
I think it has to do with our ability to use the crystals.
“And the soulless, who or what are they?”
I don’t know. A week and a half ago, the two you saw appeared in my village and came after me. Called me caster, said something about going back when they attacked me. I was on my way east anyway, so I ran and jumped a train and came through the darklands figuring they’d never find me…but they did.
“I killed one. In my trade shop, I…couldn’t control myself,” Cyndra sniffled and covered her face as all the guilt came rushing back.
“You weep for no reason, whatever these soulless are, they attacked you,” Zorin said, curtly.
She ignored his logic and him, again, and wiped the tears from her cheek. Rune patted her shoulder and offered her a thin, supportive smile. He’s right, that man tried to kill you, Cyndra, you did what you had to do.
Cyndra nodded and cleaned her nose. “What I need to do now is go see my cousin, Pristy. Apparently, my grandmother’s journal won’t work without her. I’m sure it can explain some of this.”
Where does she live?
“North of Baltimoretown if she hasn’t moved again. Where were you heading?”
My journey is your journey. I was following you.
“Yeah, about that, why?”
My father sent me, in a way. Rune smiled and reached into his satchel retrieving a piece of paper. He offered it to her. Cyndra reluctantly took it, unsure she wanted another family letter to confuse her further.
Years from now, after the world has forgotten, this crystal will awaken an extraordinary power within you, Rune. It’s imperative you find the others, most will be in the east. The crystal will show you the way. Learn all that you can, become as strong as you can. If you do, there is a chance we will see each other again, my son.
Rune shrugged. The crystal did lead me to you. I think they are aware of…each other if that makes sense.
“Does any of this? My grandfather, Silvio, wrote something similar, said I wasn’t protected anymore and that the journal would guide me.” Cyndra frowned, gazing over to her backpack, trying to cram down the annoyance. “But if my grandfather’s involved, I’m not sure I want to be a part of whatever this is, anyway.”
Zorin chuckled deeply without altering the speed or direction of his pacing. Cyndra crunched her fingers into a fist, inadvertently setting it on fire.
She gasped and sprang up from the stairs.
Don’t fight it, try to relax. That’s how it works for me, Rune suggested.
The flame grew bigger, hotter, jamming so much heat into her body she thought she’d explode any moment. Rune nervously stepped backward while Zorin glided in her direction, unafraid. Perspiration on her forehead evaporated as quickly as it formed. The flame surrounding her fingers and palm darkened. Cyndra was losing control again.
“Caster, listen to me,” Zorin said as he landed, locking his still blue eyes on her. “Focus on the flame not your irritation with me.”
“Why?” she snapped, boiling from the inside.
He lifted his hands and moved closer. Each gray palm held a unique, raised symbol, similar to hers, but different and familiar. “You need to learn control. I…can guide you. Both of you.”
He’s a caster? Rune’s question flitted through her head.
The heat inside seemed to dampen the nearer he came. Cyndra repeated the question and carefully watched his eyes. “Are you a caster too?”
“I was,” he replied, frowning and lowering his hands. “I can only act as a siphon now.”
“What’s a siphon?” she said, seeing the flames shrink.
“I sense and absorb the power from casters and crystals, use it to strengthen and protect myself.” Although she didn’t feel weaker or drained, the fire surrounding her fingers continued its retreat, vanishing completely when Zorin gazed down. “I can no longer use the crystals, but before the war, I mastered my elements.”
“How?”
“Years of training and practice,” he replied.
What do they mean? The symbols. Rune projected as he approached.
“This is the symbol for air,” Zorin said, obviously hearing the question as he pointed to his right palm, which held three vertical wavy lines. He overturned his second hand to show the other raised mark, a large swirl covering his entire palm. “This means energy.”
Rune pointed to the triangle on his skin.
“Fire,” Zorin answered. “You share the firecaster power with Cyndra. The first marker appears when the caster awakens and the second if he or she masters two elements. Most casters are lucky to control one,” he replied as if it were the most natural conversation in the world. “When did yours appear?”
About two weeks ago. Rune answered and stretched out his arm and healed the branch of a ghostwood tree, Zo
rin smiled, making him look human for the first time.
“Earth. A wonderful element to control, Rune—represented by a circle if you master it. Probably the reason so many trees are reviving here.”
Rune shook his head. I grew up in Westzone.
“Interesting. And the last is, of course, water, a horizontal version of air.” When the gargoyle looked at her again, there was something different in his eyes. Cyndra shuddered and turned away, gazing down at the mark on her palm. She studied it, feeling connected to it with no clear reason. Sighing, she went to her pack and put everything where it belonged before zipping it closed.
Her grandmother’s words echoed through her mind again. According to Evie, this casting power had always been there, inside. Sure didn’t feel that way, and Cyndra had no memory of her grandmother or her parents using crystal power.
She took a deep breath, knowing the only way to get those answers was to find her cousin and unlock the journal. Cyndra had to keep moving and practiced what she needed to say before leaving. Hearing the rustle of footsteps approaching, she tensed and tried to maintain her cool as she glanced over. Rune, smiling again, offered her his father’s note.
For safe keeping.
“You’re sure?”
He nodded. You seem ready to go.
“I am. Do you still want to come with me?” she asked, relaxing when he nodded. Cyndra took the note and slipped it into the top of her backpack so she didn’t have to unpack the whole thing again. Then she gazed back at Zorin. He certainly had more answers than he was giving. As much as she wanted to ask questions, she needed to go or she’d missed her chance to get to Baltimoretown before curfew. Still, she owed him something. “I…have some dried fish if you’re hungry. It’s the least we can do to thank you for helping us.”
Zorin’s lip twitched. “I have no intention of leaving either of you with mirror-wraiths and…these soulless free on the mainland with no Shield.”
“Well, I don’t think the townsfolk will take kindly to having a—”
“The humans won’t see me.”
We see you, Rune projected.