The Boi of Feather and Steel

by Adan Jerreat-Poole

  Fifteen

  THE HEALER

  Then —

  They had been picking up milk from the corner store when they first saw it — a glimmering light in their peripheral vision. When Tav tried to focus on the light it disappeared, playing in and out of their line of sight. The carton hung from one hand, the other stuffed into their coat pocket. Flakes of snow drifted past, gently brushing their shoulders and forehead.

  A few months earlier they would have turned away from the strange glimmer. Made a box of KD with cut-up hotdogs. Binged reruns of Friends (they had a crush on Charlie, the highlight of season ten).

  But that was before the ghost.

  This was after.

  The light was a different kind of magic from the ghost, but it crackled with the same electricity. Smell of burnt sugar. Aftertaste of rotten fruit and mouthwash. Sickly sweet. Tav’s mouth watered, saliva pooling in the corners of their lips.

  Their cell rang.

  “Hey, Mom. Working late again?”

  “Don’t make Kraft Dinner, okay? You can’t live off that shit.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You home yet? What’s that noise in the background?”

  Tav glanced up, and a flash of greenblack burst into their vision, lights flickering down an invisible chain before vanishing into the distance. They were leading east.

  “Yeah, I’m home.”

  Tav hung up, opened the carton, took a swig of milk, and started walking. They weren’t reckless — most of the time — and their guidance counsellor insisted they were smart. So Tav didn’t follow the thread of promise and power. At least, not on foot.

  They stole their mom’s bike.

  It was early December and the bike hadn’t been stored away yet. It had been an unusually warm fall, and this was the first snow. At least the roads weren’t icy. Tav buckled the helmet and pulled on their mom’s leather gloves, feeling braver and stronger than they had yesterday. Finally, after weeks of waiting, and wondering, and looking everywhere for magic — finally, they had a lead. And they weren’t going to lose it.

  Tav turned the key in the ignition and grinned as the bike roared to life. They took off into the city. The thread of light wound its way through Grace, through the busy downtown heart of the city crowded with buses and traffic lights and neon signs. Past the city limits with the faded, kitschy welcome sign.

  Tav had been out on the bike before, arms locked around their mom’s waist, wind in their ears. But this was different. This time, the bike responded to their touch. As the road fell away under their wheels, Tav felt the bike becoming an extension of their body, a new way of moving through time and space. A feeling grew in their chest and then burst across their body, thrumming in their shoulders and heels. Escape. The throaty roar of the engine and the whine of the wind that couldn’t keep up — this was what power felt like. This was the sound of freedom.

  The magic thread ended at a small building that looked like a fairy-tale cottage, with round windows and a tiny brick chimney with a curlicue of smoke hanging above it. Tav shivered with anticipation. A sign outside the cottage read The Sun. Another hipster café pop-up — not unusual in the city, but definitely out of place this far from the bustling streets and customers desperate for another hit of caffeine.

  This café was the source of the magic. Tav was sure of it.

  Tav dismounted, kicking the stand into place. They unbuckled their helmet and tucked it under one arm, staring into the round windows. Taking a breath, Tav stepped forward and opened the door. Chimes tinkled faintly, and a sense of calm washed over them.

  The woman behind the counter had dark red hair and eyes that — Tav blinked, and then looked again.

  The woman’s eyes were milky white with a thin, jagged pupil like a cut across the white. Tav tried not to flinch as those eyes crawled over their body.

  “What can I get you, love?”

  Tav walked forward and tapped their fingers on the counter. The magic hummed in their bones and made every shape and shadow come to life. They could taste the cedar in the air. They could smell the limestone bed under the soil.

  Tav met the woman’s gaze. “Just coffee. Black.” They hesitated, and then forced the words out. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  The cactus on the counter began quivering, its single red blossom opening and closing in an undulating rhythm. The spines grew longer, twisting wildly. Tav stared at the plant and pulled their hand away.

  “Oh, you are interesting,” said the woman, a smile unstitching across her face like it belonged to a rag doll. “I think I’ll have a coffee with you.” She leaned across the counter, until her alien eyes were only a few inches from Tav’s. “Of course I believe in ghosts, Tav — I believe in everything that’s real.”

  Now —

  “I believe in everything that’s real.”

  Tav hoped that was still true.

  The sign was rotting, the paint chipped and faded. They could barely make out the words The Sun, and the red paint, once cheery and reminiscent of child-drawn hearts and wrapping paper, now looked like dried blood.

  Tav lingered outside for a moment longer, fidgeting with their keys, flooded by memories, feelings, and the overwhelming magic that radiated from the building.

  It had been more than a year ago when they had first set foot in this space. The Hedge-Witch had taken them under her wing, had shown them magic, had promised an end to the violence that broke the city. Their time at The Sun had changed their life.

  But all of their plans had hinged on Tav retrieving the Heart. What would the Hedge-Witch do when they returned empty-handed?

  Tav breathed in the smell of freshly ground coffee and diluted magic. They had always been able to sense the magic in this space, and it had pulled them away from the small house on Church Street and the promises of a normal teenage life.

  But Tav had never been normal. Finding the Hedge-Witch had been, in a small way, like coming home. The Hedge-Witch had welcomed them into their family of misfits and rebels, and for a while, Tav had felt like they belonged. Among humans and a witch and sometimes a ghost, those bodies who lived on the edges of society; the outcasts from different worlds, coming together to build a better future.

  That goal had spoken to Tav. Tav was Black, non-binary, and queer, in a city of white men in business suits who bulldozed the poorer parts of town any chance they got and used their power and influence to destroy anyone who was not like them. Tav had been born into injustice, and they knew — had always known — that they would never be able to live in the corners left for them by those in power.

  They would have to remake the world.

  The Hedge-Witch had promised change. For over a year, Tav had run errands and delivered messages, tracking witches and assassins and ghosts, recruiting, following orders, listening, nodding, learning. Being told to trust no one, not even Cam. Told to speak to no one, listen to no one, except the Hedge-Witch.

  The Hedge-Witch, with her plant children and her human lover. Tav had adored her. Trusted her. Choked down the doubts that filled their mouth whenever the witch told them to wait; that it wasn’t time yet; that humans couldn’t learn magic; that magic would destroy Tav. Had never let themselves question the Hedge-Witch’s intentions.

  Until they met Eli. Until they discovered the magic within themselves that lay dormant, waiting. The magic that let them see ghosts and the essences of witches. Until they realized that not only could they see magic, they could touch it. Use it. They had opened doors between worlds. They had met creatures who were neither witch nor human nor object. They had fought monsters and fallen in love with monsters and come to understand that the universe was a much more complicated and dangerous and beautiful place than they had ever imagined.

  Tav was not the same person who had stepped through these doors many months ago.

  Could they treat with the Hedge-Witch as an equal?

  And what if the Hedge-Witch refused to help? Would they find themselves on di
fferent sides now, of what looked like a many-sided war, a struggle for power, for recognition, for survival?

  Tav wanted to believe the Hedge-Witch would join them. Would help them. But they weren’t so sure anymore. The doubts that had drifted like pieces of sand in their bloodstream now flowed thick and dark through their arteries and veins. Was the Hedge-Witch, with her single-minded pursuit of the Heart, all that different from the Coven?

  Shoving one hand in their pocket, Tav made a fist with the other and knocked once on the door.

  The door swung open. The tinkling of chimes broke the silence. Tav ran a hand through their purple hair (wishing they had time for a haircut) and crossed the threshold.

  Immediately the weight of the magic pressed on their lungs; like dust, it clung to every surface and hung in the air, thick and cloying as perfume. The Hedge-Witch must have increased security measures; either that, or she had been casting some complicated enchantments recently.

  “Can I help you?” A young woman with gleaming white teeth stood behind the bar. Otherwise the room was empty.

  Tav could see through the glamour as easily as looking through a window.

  “Did you miss me?” Tav grinned and spun their keys around their pointer finger, flashes of silver playing over the walls. “I’ve had quite the adventure.” They walked over to the nearest table and sank into a thin wicker chair, throwing one leg up on the table, hands behind their head.

  The face of the cheerful but bland woman melted away to show the sharp eyebrows and wide mouth of the Hedge-Witch. “You’ve been gone longer than expected.”

  “I have,” Tav agreed. “And there’s no homecoming party to welcome me back. I’m disappointed.”

  “But surely not surprised. Will you submit to an examination? To ensure you didn’t come back with some nasty Coven spell behind your eyelids or under your liver?”

  “Sounds painful, so I’ll pass.”

  “I thought you might.” The Hedge-Witch suddenly appeared in front of Tav. Tav managed not to flinch, even when the witch’s shadow leaned over and handed them a mug of hot coffee.

  “Cute trick.” Tav swung their leg off the table, accepted the coffee, and took a sip. It burned their tongue. “Tasty.” They smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Etiquette should always be observed, even in these uncivilized times. The Sun, as you know, has always been a sanctuary.”

  “For whom?”

  “For us, and our allies.” The Hedge-Witch sat across from Tav. “You’ve come into your powers, then.”

  “You knew?”

  “I suspected.” The Hedge-Witch sipped her espresso. Tav felt a surge of anger play across their cheekbones.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The Hedge-Witch arched an eyebrow coolly. “I didn’t know for sure. You had to discover it on your own.”

  Tav tightened their grip on the mug, feeling like a child being reprimanded. Had the Hedge-Witch always been this cool, this calculating?

  Isn’t that why you admired her?

  “There’s news.” Tav took another sip of the bitter drink. “The Coven is destroying the Earth. They’re devouring it, drinking its essence.” They paused, fumbling over the words and their terrible meanings. “I have a method of healing the damage. I think.”

  “You think.”

  “We could use your network.”

  “To save the world?” The mocking tone slipped under Tav’s rib cage.

  “To save both worlds, actually.” The plants that lined the room were stretching out tentacles of magic. Tav pretended they couldn’t sense them drawing closer. They had seen first-hand how deadly the Hedge-Witch’s children could be. Their heart began to race. It would be so easy to open a door, to disappear …

  To break the promise they had made to Cam and Eli. Not to use their power. Not to attract attention. Not to show the full extent of their power.

  Not yet.

  Tav took a sip of coffee and forced themselves to breathe.

  “A conspiracy theory?” The Hedge-Witch shook her head sadly. “The real battle is here. Will you let your city get overtaken by the alt-right as you chase after a fantasy? I left that world for this one. I’m not interested in hearing about the Coven’s squabbles. All we need is their power. Not their politics. Not their problems. We have our own, Tav.” She finished her espresso and leaned forward, elbows on the table. Her eyes latched on to Tav’s, her pupils expanding and contracting like oil flowing across water. Soothed magic hummed around the Hedge-Witch’s body like an aura.

  “Did you get it?” she whispered. Her eyes were hypnotic.

  Would it be so bad if I gave it to her? If we turned the Heart over to the Hedge-Witch now, and let her lead us? She has power and experience.

  And then it wouldn’t be me. It wouldn’t be our problem anymore. Would it be so terrible to let someone else carry the burden?

  Just tell her where the Heart is.

  But the Heart was a person, and Tav had made a promise. (They were losing track of their promises: the ones they had made, the ones they had broken, and the ones that would ruin them.)

  Tav wrenched their eyes away, their human heart racing. Words fluttered into their mind, a memory — the first conversation they ever had with the Hedge-Witch.

  “The Coven has something we could use to end the struggle. You could do it — Tav. I’ve seen it.”

  “But the ghost —”

  “The ghost was a sign. It brought you to me.”

  Tav shook their head, snapping back to the present. “We failed.”

  The Hedge-Witch drew back, the plants lining the window ledges wilting. Her lips thinned. “That’s disappointing.”

  Tav exhaled. “It’s not too late —”

  “It’s disappointing that you felt the need to lie to me,” the Hedge-Witch interrupted. “You know I’ve only ever wanted to help you. To see you succeed. To see your people thrive. I thought we had the same goals.”

  “I thought you wanted the Heart.”

  “Of course. I need the power of the Heart to help you. To bring justice. To create a new order.”

  “And who would lead it?”

  “We would, of course. You and I.”

  “Not the others?” Tav remembered the private lessons, the secrecy, the insistence that they were special. No one else was given the morsels of knowledge that Tav was offered, handed out like a handler training a dog.

  “They can’t handle the responsibility. But we can, Tav. We can bear the burden. You just need to share the Heart’s power with me, and everything will change.”

  Justice. Change. Power. Those words had once been irresistible to Tav, but now, spoken with such hunger, Tav heard them differently. Why did the Hedge-Witch care about the treatment of queer people, people of colour, poor people? The truth settled like sediment in their stomach: she had never meant to share power with Tav. She had only meant to use them to gain control of the city. Perhaps even to build her own Coven on the blue planet. Eli had been right, after all — the Hedge-Witch couldn’t be trusted.

  But she could still be useful.

  Tav leaned forward. “We still have the same goals. But I have to do this first. You need to trust me.” They forced the next words from their mouth. “If you help me with this, I will give you the Heart.”

  “Pretty words from a human. You’ve already broken one promise.”

  Tav took a switchblade out of their pocket and pressed its thirsty tip against their palm. Three drops of blood fell into the dregs of their coffee. They pushed the cup across the table. “I swear it on my blood.”

  Outside, a car was waiting. Jazz music danced through the open windows.

  The Hedge-Witch raised the mug to her lips and purred. “I will help you.” She drank deeply, and Tav’s sense of foreboding grew with every swallow.

  Outside, a car waited for them. The driver of the dirty black Hyundai wore a pair of aviator sunglasses and was playing with his moustache.

  With trembli
ng hands, Tav opened the door and climbed in.

  “I told you not to come.”

  “I thought you might need backup.”

  “You were right.” They shuddered violently, their body shaking off the stray threads of the Hedge-Witch’s magic that clung to their clothes and hair.

  “What about the bike?” he asked.

  “I don’t think I can drive. We’ll come back for it later.”

  A few bars of trumpet played between them.

  “Does she know?” he asked finally, face creased in worry.

  Tav shook their head, heart pounding. “No.”

  As they took off down the city streets, raindrops starting to fall forlornly on the asphalt, Tav realized Cam had probably meant the Hedge-Witch.

  THE HEART

  A girl and a ghost watched Tav get into the car and drive away. To Eli’s surprise, Tav’s prized motorcycle was left behind, looking lonely and sad.

  “What do you think?” she asked the ghost.

  The ghost said nothing.

  “I think it’s trouble.” She sighed, playing with her blades. The obsidian knife called to her from where it rested against Tav’s skin. She could follow Tav anywhere. They were a burning arrow in the night.

  “Should we check it out?” She nodded at the café, the pulse of magic sending off alarm signals in her fingertips. But hey, she was the Heart — what could go wrong?

  The ghost turned around and started walking away.

  “You’re probably right. It isn’t the right time.”

  She went to retrieve the bike. It was a good thing she’d had Cam make copies of the keys. She could kill the Hedge-Witch later.

  It was the only way Tav could be free.

  Sixteen

  THE HEIR

  “You have proven yourself a traitor to the throne. We should celebrate!” Clytemnestra appeared while Kite was trying to read, having set up a makeshift desk and bookshelf in one of the stone chambers in the Children’s Lair. Every so often the walls would shake violently, dirt sprinkling over her page. The Coven had sent patrols into the Labyrinth, and their magic was upsetting the living, breathing walls.