by Kailin Gow
Don’t underestimate yourself.
I glared at him, feeling violated for his intrusion, yet filled with wonder at what he could do and what he could show me.
“Look at that flower you hold,” he said. “Concentrate on what you would like to see that flower do.”
My eyes turned to the flower as I imagined it floating up to spiral in the air. I imagined four such flowers twirling on the wind, their colors mystical and alive with vibrancy.
The lone flower rose, shaky and uncertain, before falling limp into my hand once again.
Torrid smiled. “That’s a beginning.”
“How is it that I can do that?” I shook my head. If I have not seen what I did to the flower with my own eyes, I would not have believed it.
“You’ve more power than you can imagine; the power to do great things. It is part of the legacy your father left you.”
“My father can do this?”
“And so much more. He is one of the most powerful Magical Ones I know, capable of control, precision, accuracy and creating magic of such fine detail. Many of us will stumble on occasion, wanting to have a flower float into the air only to have it fall to the ground instead.” His teasing smile warmed me and I wondered at the magic he so easily created.
I stumbled back. I knew my father was powerful, but a Magical One - whatever did that mean? I stared at Torrid’s open face, his clear blue eyes hiding nothing. He could be lying to me or he can be telling me the truth. His full lips did not waver and he did not blink at me, but kept a steady gaze. Whoever this darkly handsome yet mysterious young man was, he had something I wanted desperately to know for years – the knowledge about who was my father.
“When will I meet him, my father? When will I find out who he is?”
“Not yet. Not for a while. Knowledge is a great thing, but too much at the wrong time can be dangerous.”
I tilted my head quizzically. “Is my father a dangerous man?”
“No,” he said with a chuckle as his hand rose to grasp a lock of my hair.
I was pleased by his touch, awed by his gentleness.
“The danger comes from those seeking him,” he went on as he backed away, seeming self-conscious for an act he now regretted.
“And who is that?” I ignored the chill that crept through me. I wanted him to remain close, to get closer.
“The people of Arcadia. He’s long been sought after and they would surely do anything to get to him.”
“But we’re normal, mortal people in Arcadia. We don’t practice hocus pocus and mind reading. We work and study and put great time and effort into creating the world that we have. This type of trickery isn’t done where I’m from.”
“Don’t mock your heritage, Kama.”
“I’m not mocking it. I don’t even know my true heritage. You haven’t told me,” I said wryly, shooting him a pointed glare. “I’m simply letting you know of the difference between toiling to achieve greatness and simply snapping your fingers to create an impossible flower. Mother spent hours in her garden, working to have blooms so beautiful, her flowers are the envy of our District. Yet she succeeds only in growing flowers that are pretty in their simplicity, but far from magical. You don’t need magic in order to achieve beauty here in Arcadia.”
Torrid arched an eyebrow. “The average citizen of Arcadia may lack the magical powers of your ancestors, but that does not keep many of the more powerful men and women of your city from benefiting from magical powers.”
“I told you, there are no such magical powers in Arcadia.”
He chuckled. “They are well hidden from all of you. Or should I say, we are well hidden.”
I glared at him, tired of his riddles.
“The Arcadian Governor has a long standing tradition of keeping us under lock and key. He traps us, imprisons us and uses us to create the perfect city you so proudly claim is built on the sweat of your brow. Nothing in Arcadia would exist were it not for the magic of your people. The Magical Ones have built everything you hold dear.”
Dumbfounded, I stared at him. I wanted to contest, to accuse him of fabricating such a ridiculous story, but I had to admit there had been times when I’d questioned the absolute perfection of Arcadia. The impossibly clean streets, despite the fact that I never saw workers cleaning, the sparkling clean windows of every office building in town, though no one ever climbed up to clean them. Every lawn was emerald green, every house in good repair.
“If they were to find out where your father was, there’s no telling what they would do with his powers. Topple neighboring states, counties and countries; try to gain an evil degree of power.”
“And this is why you can’t tell me who or where he is?”
“They would read your mind. They are no doubt reading your thoughts on a regular basis now.”
“But you know about my father. Isn’t there a danger of them finding out when you're in Arcadia?”
“I’ve mastered the ability to block out any mental intruders. No one can read what I don’t want them to read. It should be among the first things I’ll teach you to do. At the moment you're a completely open book, easy to read, just as all Arcadians who are underage. If you wish to know more about your father, to know more about who you are, you must learn to control your mind, to harness your power, to shield your thoughts.”
What if Torrid can read all my thoughts, I suddenly wondered. Did he know of my attraction to him? Could he look into my mind and see all the mixed emotions he caused. I blushed, wanting to run away and hide. Having my heart so open to someone, anyone was disturbing, especially to someone like Torrid, who seemed so dangerous, yet gentle.
I turned away from him, my pride telling me to walk away no matter how attracted to him I was. Before I could take a step, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him.
“I can, and I’m sorry. I should have respected your privacy more, but I had to know what you knew. Your mixed emotions simply got caught up in it all.”
For certain I would die of embarrassment. I felt my cheeks heat up to a painful degree and feared meeting his gaze. Would he mock my adolescent crush?
“Never,” he said softly. He took a firm grasp of my jaw and tilted my face up to look at him. His blue eyes gazed softly at me, lacking the hardness I’d become accustomed to. He took a step closer, bringing with him an aroma of manliness I’d never smelled before. His strength and fearlessness were intoxicating. Although I loved the familiar smell of Liam, Torrid’s smell to me was more than human. It was almost primal like musk and forests.
My eyes closed with a will of their own as he came closer still and the magic of the moment captivated me. But while my lips anticipated the touch of his, it was my brow that felt the warm moisture of his lips.
“The city is about to awaken,” he murmured softly, his voice taking on a tenderness that was surprising for a man of such size and power. “Return quickly before your mother notices your absence. I shall see you again, sweet Kama. Your lessons with me begin tomorrow. Meet me here again in the morning.”
I opened my eyes in time to briefly see his eyes hooded in desire before he disappeared, literally evaporating into thin air. Were it not for the brilliantly colored orchid still in my hand, I may not have believed I’d seen him at all.
Chapter 10
For the next couple of days, Torrid did his best to teach me to shield as much of my thoughts as possible. It was harder than I’d thought and required a degree of concentration I didn’t think myself capable of. Thoughts that needed to remain hidden were shelved away in a part of my consciousness I never even knew existed.
“Keep your mind filled with the everyday mundane thoughts everyone would expect you to have; your homework, mother, clothes, what have you. Everything else must never enter this cortex of your brain,” he’d said.
Though I did manage to hide my true thoughts, it was not enough for Torrid to trust me with information about my father just yet.
Our early morning encounters were mo
re eye opening than I was prepared for. How Arcadia had come to be, all with the help of these Magical Ones. How the Magical Ones tended to everything in Arcadia, using their magic to create the perfection that Arcadians have come to expect of their state.
My own budding magical powers became easier to control and define. Things appeared out of thin air based simply on the power of my thoughts, though not exactly as I’d planned. Some fine tuning was still needed.
But my eye-opening encounters left me more and more troubled every time I returned into the place I’d grown up seeing from a particular vantage point. I was now able to pick out the Magical Ones; men and women who appeared just as normal as everyone else in Arcadia. They worked at the local store, at the library, post office, even as police officers.
What they all had in common, however, was the leather bracelet they all wore and the light violet hue that encompassed them all. They were everywhere, discreet, quiet, almost meek, though a few had an almost imperceptible hint of defiance in their eyes.
My childhood vision of my hometown was shattered as I became aware of all they did to make the city the perfection that it was. I felt cheated and betrayed, and wondered if any other Arcadians had ever questioned the absolute perfection the city prided itself on.
As I stopped to buy a pint of milk at the corner store one afternoon, I finally succumbed to the temptation of mentioning the leather band on the cashier’s wrist.
“That’s so pretty,” I said when she handed me my change. I made the comment as innocently as could be.
“Thank you,” the cashier said. Though her smile was pleasant enough, suspicion was in her eyes, veiled, but definitely there. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”
No mind reading abilities were required to see the woman was far from pleased by my compliment. My nerves twitched and keeping my private thoughts in their private place became difficult.
I saw a glint of recognition in her gaze and wondered how much she knew. Did she know who I truly was and who my father was?
I grabbed the pint of milk, shoved it into my cotton shopping bag and hurried out, just barely keeping my feet from running out in front of me.
Panic swept over me. Realizing the mistake I’d made, I turned towards home, almost tripping over my own feet. My thoughts were all over the place, running from fear for my mother’s safety to finding Torrid and fast.
My heart pounded insistently in my ear and my footsteps resounded with each step. I could hear the telltale sounds of people following me, getting closer with every beat. Had the cashier come out to follow me? I didn’t even dare turn around to verify, but simply quickened my stride.
Torrid, I thought. What have I done?
I wanted to run out to the meadow, but I was in the heart of town and reaching Torrid would take an eternity. Fear of everything I’d ever known gripped me and I felt like a stranger in my own town. Were everyone’s eyes really on me or was it my imagination? I knew I could try to fight them off with the self-defense techniques I’ve practiced over and over again. But how effective would it be up against Magical Ones, like Torrid? Torrid, if he can read my mind now, he would also feel my fear at being caught, knowing about the Magical Ones.
Help me, Torrid. I don’t know what to do.
In an instant a strong grip took hold of my wrist and I was pulled into the alley. My panic gave way to near hysterics as I envisioned myself captured and imprisoned by strange creatures. I wanted to scream, but fear choked my voice, allowing only a painful croak to seep out.
My assailant gripped my shoulders, turned me around and pushed me to the wall.
“Torrid?” I whispered. Still in too much of a shock to be relieved by the sight of him, I wanted to scream.
One huge finger came to cover my parting lips. “Hush,” he said.
I’m so sorry. I just wanted to ask. I just…
I know. I’ve opened your eyes too much, haven’t I?
Feeling the sting of tears in my eyes, I nodded. It’s like having my childhood stolen. Everything I ever believed. It’s all been a lie. Now I see them everywhere, these Magical Ones. I’m intrigued by them and what they do, yet I’m scared of them and angry at the Governor for using them in such a way.
Torrid’s thoughts came through. Your father wished very much to take you out of Arcadia much sooner, but the shield protecting the city was too strong. When I found a weakness in Arcadia’s barrier, your father quickly enlisted me to come find you. He also knew I’d let you know just what you need to know about your heritage.
His thoughts cut off suddenly and he pressed me to the wall, his chest hard against mine. His eyes suddenly guarded and ready for battle, he looked toward the street. The cashier I’d complimented stood there with a thin ferret-like young man.
“Where is she?” the cashier asked. Her fists clenched, she looked up and down the street. “She left the store just seconds ago. She can’t be far.”
“Are you sure she knows about us, Carla?” the young man asked. He seemed unimpressed. You know how paranoid you tend to get.
“I told you. She asked about the leather band. In all my years, I’ve never had anyone even glance at it.”
“She’s a young girl who’s probably really into fashion and she found it nice. No big deal.”
Carla shook her head, unconvinced by the simple explanation. “I don’t think so, and if I’m right, we have to inform the Committee.”
“Not so fast. They may be our masters, but there’s no reason to jump the gun just yet.”
“This wasn’t just idle curiosity, Jake. We’ve been told to report any and all suspicion, no matter how slight.”
“This is just a teenage girl. They don’t need to know about this. They’ll just be annoyed with you and punish you for wasting their time.”
“They will want to know about this one and we’re obligated to tell them or suffer the consequences.”
Jake shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t sweat it. This won’t be the first disobedience.”
“What?” Carla asked, her eyes wide with shock and intrigue.
Jake smiled. “The shield is weakening. You’ll see. Everything is going to change, and soon.” He put his hand to Carla’s shoulder and directed her back to the store.
I looked to Torrid for an explanation. What was this change? Why had this young man turned away from me?
“You can safely go home now,” Torrid said.
Though I wanted to know more about everything that was going on, I knew Torrid would not divulge anything before I was ready to hear it.
“Don’t forget how vulnerable you can be now that you know who you are. Ignore the Magical Ones and go on as if nothing’s changed.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
He didn’t move, didn’t release me from his hold. His eyes held my gaze, but not with the same intensity he usually reserved for me. Warm, even heated, his gaze pierced through me, touching something deep and animal in me.
My lips parted, hungering for his.
His body pressed closer and while I wanted to blame my labored breathing on his crushing chest, I knew it was my desire for him that left me chasing every gulp of air.
“Torrid,” I whispered. His name hung in the air, part question, part yearning.
He brought his hand to my hair, pushing away the loose strands that fell into my face. I could almost taste him, his lips were so close. My eyes narrowed and my gut swirled in a tempest of new sensations I didn’t understand.
“Go home,” he said, almost harshly. Before his lips could touch mine, he vanished.
Chapter 11
Walking to school the next morning, I looked at my perfect little town, inspecting all the little things I’d always taken for granted. Why had I never questioned the absolute perfection? Why had I never wondered how everything always looked so clean and pristine?
The sidewalk beneath my feet was embellished with a star motif in the center. I knew that the next block would be adorned with a sun and the next with a
half moon. I’d always found the motifs pretty, but never questioned the perfection of each inch; never a chip, never a crack, never an accumulation of dirt or dust.
The trees, shrubs, flowers were all neat and tidy, one home after the other. Freshly painted, every home looked new, with shutters that hung straight and walkways that were always clear of any debris.
Though the Amethyst District had smaller, simpler homes, they were all nonetheless, perfect in their own little way.
Turning the corner to arrive at school, I looked at the huge building I’d attended for the past five years. I’d seen a janitor from time to time, but never with a broom or mop in his hand, though the floors, windows, walls, even in the gym shower room, were clean enough to eat off of.
I suddenly remembered when Henry, a classmate from a few years back, had broken a window when he’d hit a homerun at a friendly baseball game in the back field. Before the game was even over, the window had been repaired.
No one had commented on the impossible swiftness of the repair.
“Kama!”
In the distance I saw Liam, his smile apprehensive and unsure as he waved to me. He had been discreet and quiet in his recent attempts to speak to me and this latest outburst was unlike him.
“I need your help,” he shouted. His strides were long and purposeful, his approach obvious to all the students and teachers who milled about, preparing for another day at school.
Dumbfounded, I watched him get closer, unsure how I should react.
“I spent two hours last night trying to solve three math problems and I just couldn’t do it,” he said in a loud and clear tone. “I know how good you are in math and thought you could give me a hand.”
Mrs. Clumpston, an eagle-eyed English teacher, walked by, her approval written all over her beaming face.
I glanced at Liam, finally understanding his outspoken manner.
“Can you help me with these problems tonight?”
Students passed, barely noticing our exchange.