by LJ Rivers
“Watch it.” Charlie groaned as people bumped into her, and she cradled her bag to her chest.
I tightened my grip on my purse and glanced at Mum. “Better hold onto your belongings, Mum.”
She smiled. “Even if someone tried to snatch it, they wouldn’t be able to.”
I tilted my head at her, and it dawned on me. Her purse was all but glued to her hip. An ordinary person wouldn’t have noticed the oddity, but I could just make out the slight shimmer of the force field Mum had wrapped around it. I would have told her not to waste energy, which she was already aware of, but the force field was so small that it wouldn’t require much effort to hold. Besides, she would probably release it when she didn’t feel the need for it anymore.
“Clever,” I said instead, and mimicked her approach with my own purse. Why I had never thought of it before was beyond me, but it made me feel better knowing no one could steal my phone.
Though there was more than one lift, they filled up rapidly, and we didn’t make it through the doors the first time they opened. Nor the second.
“Come on!” Some guy behind me shifted his feet and stretched to look over my head at the line ahead. That wasn’t too hard, seeing as he was about a head taller than me, but there were quite a few people blocking the view in front of me as well. “Get a move on.”
Mum turned to the man and smiled gently. “Would you like to swap places in the queue? We’re in no rush, but it seems you’re in a hurry.” She slanted her head and looked at him mildly. “I’m not sure how much help it would be, but you’re welcome to step ahead of us. If not, I believe I saw a stairwell not far behind us.”
“It’s really steep,” the man muttered, lowering his head. “Thanks. I’m good here.” He stayed put as Mum turned back around, and somehow the rest of the people in our closest vicinity seemed to quiet down too.
“Mama Morgan, I do believe you have some hidden talents,” Charlie whispered.
“Nonsense.” Mum winked. “Just a little wisdom gained from working with patients all my life. When trying to set people straight, it tends to help if you treat them with kindness at the same time.”
The doors to the lifts pinged open again, and the line moved forward. We got into the second lift, along with the man Mum had spoken to, just as the doors shut behind us.
I finally took a deep, shuddering breath when we stepped outside. Though the London air was heavily polluted, it felt fresh and invigorating after the stuffiness underground. I shook myself, and we turned right towards the market.
A man had painted himself silver and stood eerily still, perfectly mimicking an Adonis statue, save for the underpants covering his private parts, though they too were silver like the rest of him. Charlie halted, then stepped up to the statue and waved her hands in front of its face.
“Hellooo,” she said in an animated voice.
The man-statue didn’t so much as bat an eyelid.
Charlie leaned her torso forward while tilting her head up, then placed her fists in her armpits, flapped her elbows, and started making chicken noises.
I laughed, but the statue still didn’t move.
“That certainly deserves a pound or two,” Charlie declared before digging into her pockets and dropping a few coins in the hat by the box that was painted to look like a marble base, and which the man was standing on. “That takes wicked skills, dude.” She waved at the statue, and we moved into the square.
More street performers had lined up with their shows, one on each side of the shops in the middle. A woman was doing tricks on a unicycle to the right, while a pair of clowns were mucking about to the left. A large circle of kids and their families had gathered around each performance. The notes to a song I didn’t recognise played somewhere ahead, filling the air with what sounded like an Irish folk song. It made me think of Brendan, my lips quirking up as the thought entered my mind.
“Just as I remember it.” Mum exhaled with an audible and content sigh, then dragged us to the booths beyond the first line of shops. She went straight for a rack of pendants with an assortment of tiny flowers, gemstones, and other curiosities encased in differently shaped glass. “Kit might appreciate this one.” She held one pendant up to show Charlie and me the tiny hummingbird creation inside it.
“Perfect,” I said.
The band that had recently been playing somewhere nearby ended abruptly. Someone yelled “Stop!”, and something crashed below, followed by muffled but angry voices. I stuck my head over the railing to look at the downstairs area. It was nearly empty of people. The remnants of a violin lay across one of the café tables, and a single remaining string curled away from one of the larger pieces. Next to it, a man swung a cello over his head. My attention snapped to a frightened couple, who I assumed were the musicians, currently sprinting away and up the stairs. The cello crashed into the steps just below their feet. The man entered my floor more quickly than I had expected possible and screwed his head in my direction. His bewildered eyes caught mine for a second as he rubbed at his forehead and made an awkward grimace, tears glimmering in his mahogany-coloured eyes.
The woman appeared next to him as if from thin air. What the fudge? I started towards them when they suddenly vanished, only to reappear on the cobblestone by the woman with the unicycle outside of the main market area. They jumped again, and then they were gone.
A gentle hand folded over mine that was still clutching the railing. I looked down, but the assailants were nowhere to be found either.
“Jumpers?” Mum mouthed. “In broad daylight.”
“They were attacked.” I pointed to the broken instruments and the makeshift stage that lay turned on its head in the corner. “I don’t know where the culprits went.”
Mum shook her head. “Charlie?” she called.
Charlie popped her head out from behind a booth full of weird figurines made of tiny metal wires, by the looks of them. “Coming.” She abandoned the motorcycle-robot-thingy, or whatever she’d been examining, and bounced over to us.
Mum stroked her fingers through Charlie’s chocolate-brown tresses. “I got what I wanted from here, but I think I’d like to move on.”
“Sure thing, Mama Morgan.”
We moved away from the booths and back outside. The woman on the unicycle suddenly screamed and fell off. Though clearly in pain, she twisted to her feet, grabbed her unicycle and dashed off. The onlookers were scrambling to get away, too.
“There!” Mum said. She rushed forward and disappeared into the crowd. I exchanged a glance with Charlie before following her. A young boy lay on the cobbles where I assumed the front row of the spectators would have been. Someone—or something—had hit him. He spasmed in a way I’d seen before. The way someone jerked after having been electrocuted. Mum put her hands on his head, and the spasms subsided while the trickle of blood from his ear slowly stopped as she healed him.
He looked up at her with wide green eyes. “Thank you.” His body rippled for a moment before he vanished, leaving his clothes behind. No, not vanished. Transformed. A butterfly-like creature flew out of the boy’s shirt and batted its minuscule emerald wings. It hovered in front of Mum’s face for a moment, then darted upwards and disappeared in a glimmer of light.
“A Pixie,” Mum said, staring after it.
I shifted my gaze around until I caught sight of the two men I’d seen with the musicians, now pushing through the dispersing crowd. They bolted up the street towards the underground station.
“Watch Mum,” I said to Charlie. “I’ll be right back.” Without a second thought, I rushed after the men. I passed the silver Adonis, who was no longer still as a statue. He was waving a banner above his head and had a megaphone in his hands.
“Maggers Out!” he hollered. “Maggers Out!” He repeated the chant as I swept by him. I made a quick gesture with my hand and ripped the pretend-marble from under his feet. I didn’t stop to watch him hit the ground, though I heard his angry cry as I searched for the men. They disappeared in
to a heap of people surging into the underground. I was about to bolt after them when a group of jolly women danced in front of me. Pink and fluffy pieces of tulle clouded my vision, along with a ribbon sweeping off in the light breeze. Bold, gold letters spelled out ‘Bride to be’. When the hen do finally made it past me, the men were long gone.
Mum and Charlie caught up with me, and Mum took my arm.
“I lost them,” I said.
“You’ll never find them,” Charlie said. “But we should get out of here.”
Mum huffed. “That station is packed. Let’s walk for a bit.”
Regretfully, I agreed. What was I supposed to do with those men even if I had caught up with them? Mum was right, and I figured the air outside—polluted as it was—would do us all more good than heading back underground.
We passed the station and took a left down Long Acre. Despite the warm summer weather, my mood was grim, though I did my best to not let it affect the day with Mum. Still, when she wanted us to go down Neal Street and take the long way round through Shaftesbury Avenue, I objected. There were better shops there, but Charlie and I both convinced her to head straight to Leicester Square instead. It felt like the busy street might be a safer bet than the smaller side streets. If anything, we could catch a taxi in two seconds flat if we needed to. Not that any of us could afford one of those to drive us far, but it could at least drive us away.
By the time we walked through Cranbourn Street, it seemed as if things had calmed down. There were no banners or Lionheart logos anywhere, and Mum had bought us all giant cones of ice cream. It was hot, and though the heat didn’t bother me, the ice cream gave a welcoming cool to the itching nerves under my skin.
We finally went past the ticket booths by the entrance to the Leicester Square station, which was busy, but not as cramped as the one at Covent Garden had been. The aromatic smell of spicy noodles fit weirdly in with the mix of pizza and salty scents in the air as we made our way to the square. We sat on the wide stone surrounding the green park to enjoy the rest of our ice creams. It was almost a perfect day, save for the tension in the air, and what had transpired back at the market.
Relaxing a little, I licked at my toffee ice cream. The giant screen above the Vue was showing an ad for the film Bloodshot.
I snorted. “So, as long as nanotech makes someone superhuman, it’s fine, but the Lady forbid actually being born with Magic.”
“It’s Vin Diesel,” Charlie said. “No one cares about the rest.”
I pursed my lips and stared at Vin Diesel’s fifty square feet face staring back at me. I assumed he was supposed to look hot, but I couldn’t quite see the appeal.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that man up close,” Mum interjected.
“Mum!”
Charlie bumped Mum’s shoulder. “That’s right. I bet he couldn’t resist your charms either.”
“Charlie!” I shook my head at them, though my lips curved up.
A woman ran past us in a lion costume, and I glanced over at one of the ticket booths. “About time I went to see The Lion King, huh? I think there’s a better chance that I’ll go see that rather than Bloodshot.”
“You haven’t been?” Charlie slapped her thigh. “Wow, just wow. It’s totally and utterly awesomesocks.”
Another person in a lion costume walked by, and I shivered. Not that I was cold, but something was bothering me. Other than the obvious. “On second thought, this might not be the right time for lions.”
Charlie licked remnants of strawberry ice cream from her lips. “Good call.”
Beside me, Mum narrowed her gaze and leaned forward. “Speaking of lions.” She raised her eyebrows and made a small gesture for us to look. “Those aren’t costumes for The Lion King. I know this is London, but I see at least twenty, maybe more, wearing the same costume.”
“Only a few weeks ago, I’d say they were probably part of some street act.” Charlie wrinkled her nose. “Nowadays, I’m not so sure.”
Mum tilted her head. “You may be onto something, Carolina.”
I stared at the increasing number of lions. Mum and Charlie were right. Something was off. One of the so-called lions was holding something in his hand. I squinted, trying to figure out what it was, when the lion shook it and started painting on the windows of Burger King. And that lion wasn’t the only one. The group spread out and started spraying the surrounding buildings.
A couple of police officers strolled past, but they strangely ignored the obvious vandalism.
“Lionhearts,” I said under my breath.
The familiar Lionheart logos surrounded us, and while some kept painting the square red, others were unfolding banners. Several of the lions started handing out leaflets to people as they went by. They weren’t attacking anyone. Painting the walls with graffiti, yes, but otherwise quietly protesting Mags. Perhaps the couple of police officers I’d seen were supporters of the Lionhearts themselves. The thought made my skin crawl. I knew from personal experience that there were plenty of people in the force who hated us Magicals.
“JC for prime minister,” one of the lions shouted as a family approached him. The family stopped, and the mother accepted a leaflet, then stood there while the lion continued to talk about why the parents had to vote for Colburn. The couple sounded like they had already made up their minds, nodding every so often and laughing at the lion’s words now and then.
“They should just go back to where they came from,” the dad exclaimed.
Next to me, Mum let out an exasperated breath. “If only we could.”
“Mum!”
“What? Sometimes I think it would be better if none of us had ever come here.”
My lips trembled at her words. “But then you wouldn’t have met Dad.”
She folded an arm around me and gently guided my head to rest on her shoulder. “True. And though I sometimes think it would be better, I’m always reminded of Dennis and the life I’ve led. There should be no reason we can’t coexist. Yet a part of me still wonders.” She kissed the top of my head. “But I suppose there would be other struggles to face if we had never come to Earth.”
“I, for one, wouldn’t have it any other way,” Charlie said. “Besides the fact that you’re my family, I’d be dead if there were no Mags on Earth.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” I said. “If there were none of us here, there would be no MagX.”
She shrugged. “If not MagX, then some other drug would’ve caught my fancy for sure. My statement stands.”
I reached out behind Mum’s back and took Charlie’s hand. “Sisters.”
Mum smiled. “Whoever said blood has to be thicker than water?”
My father.
I didn’t say it out loud, but the thought came to me, regardless. If anyone believed in the power of a bloodline, he did. If only I could figure out what he believed my blood was supposed to be good for, other than throwing my powers around, which was no help to him. Not anymore, at least.
Static noise sounded from the speakers all around us, and the giant screen above the Vue entrance started to flicker. Vin Diesel’s face distorted and was gradually replaced by grainy black and white dots. The image flickered once more, then focused on a masked face in front of a black background.
“Citizens of Britain,” a voice echoed through the speakers. A familiar voice. “The time has come for Magicals to step out of the shadows, and for humans to bow to the stronger species.” The figure took her mask off and leaned her face against the camera, filling almost all of the at least five hundred square feet screen. Her golden-brown eyes glinted with mischief.
Gemma.
Chapter Sixteen
“Now what?” Charlie groaned.
Gemma narrowed her gaze on the camera. “Magicals are here to stay. We are stronger, faster, and more capable than humans will ever be. But we are under attack. Ever since our existence was revealed to the world, humans have ridiculed us, spat and stomped on us. They have called us ugly names, beat us, drained our
blood for their own sick pleasures—even killed us. For what? If anything, they should submit to our superiority.” She cleared her throat and backed away enough for the camera to show her shoulders and the top of her head. “Magicals are done playing nice. We will no longer allow humans to pretend we are somehow inferior to them.”
The lion-dressed people in Leicester Square had stopped to watch the show, along with a throng of other spectators. Some of the lions growled, reminiscent of Shifters, as if they were in fact animals, which seemed a little ironic considering they were protesting Mags.
On the other side of Mum, Charlie curled up on the stone bench, her iPad in her hands. Her finger swiped frantically from side to side, her eyes practically bulging from their sockets. She turned the screen to us, still swiping her finger across it, but all it showed was the same image we were watching on the big screen.
“We will not harm any humans, unless you force our hand,” Gemma continued in a mellow, yet firm, voice. “You have one chance, and one chance only, to make peace with us. All we ask is that you abide by our commands. Try to keep up.
“One: The Harvesting industry stops today! All active Harvesters must cease their business this instant. Not later today, not tomorrow. Now! If we see an active Harvester on the street, they’re fair game and will be dealt with right then and there. We’ll tear down every building manufacturing this horrid drug and rip everyone involved to shreds. Unless it shuts down. And just to be clear, I don’t mean in ten minutes. It stops now.
“Two: Jarl Colburn must suspend his political campaign. He will no longer attempt to become the next prime minister. Nor will he ever enter the political scene again. We give him twenty-four hours to announce his resignation or we’ll have his head, and anyone associated with him and his campaign will die.”
A few quiet murmurs travelled through the crowd, but otherwise, Leicester Square was at a standstill.
Gemma raised her chin. “Three: This one should be easy enough. Humans have to stop trying to hurt Mags. Stop hunting us or we’ll start hunting you.” She smirked. “Failure to meet our demands will be viewed as an act of war.” She leaned even closer to the lens, her eyes burning. “My name is Gemma Todd, and the new era starts now.”