by Carly Hansen
Something was definitely up in this general vicinity, but she wasn’t sure where.
Fenix knew she had to find out quickly and get to that body. In a short while, Alda’s space-bending magic would appear again to suck her back up and drop her on the bullet train.
No other cars came along. The cop walked to the guardrail and stopped. He got up on the tips of his toes and peered down the hill, shining his light down the slope.
Fenix figured that had to be where she needed to go.
She crawled through the bushes until she came to where the cop had been looking. Tires swished above, and she guessed that he’d gone back to his spot near the center of the road to deal with any oncoming traffic.
A narrow trail led down the hill to where the land leveled off. A few feet below, a uniformed figure blocked the path. He faced downhill and kept his attention on a tree. Below its low branches was a small, curved structure, a tent perhaps. Lying next to it was what appeared to be a human form. It was completely motionless.
Fenix caught her breath as soon as she realized what she was looking at.
Death hung in the air.
She was back in Birstall and coming face to face with death.
Her stomach churned. Her knees felt weak. She wanted to run as far as she could from there.
An image reeled before her mind of another dark night, in the hills on the other side of town, on the steep slope where the forest was still thick and there were few houses.
Two men in uniform, wearing different hats to the one the man just down the hill from her now wore. Dome-shaped hats. Those men in bulky uniforms with bright fluorescent vertical stripes walked slowly and talked…about things she didn’t want to hear…confirming that Catelyn was—
Fenix fell to her knees. Her head was spinning.
It had been years since she’d allowed herself to say that name, even silently in her head. Now that it’d come back to her, pain slammed into her. She couldn’t tell where exactly in her body the dull ache throbbed. It was just there. And it made it hard for her to breathe.
It was all my fault. It’s because of me that Catelyn is no longer here. It was all because of this curse in my hands.
Fenix squeezed her eyes shut.
Catelyn was beautiful, innocent, and so happy. She deserved to live. It should have been Catelyn who survived. And I should have been the one who perished in those flames.
Fenix clutched her head. Opening her mouth wide, she let out a silent scream.
She hadn’t expected to be thrown back into the past.
Chapter 7
Thawk!
His sweaty palm slammed into her jaw. Her left cheek stung from the impact. Pain shot through her head, and she felt as if the bones in her face had become unhinged.
“Look at me,” he yelled.
Her eyes had closed in reflex as she’d braced for the slap. But now, she squeezed them shut to hold back the tears that threatened to flow. She didn’t want him to have the pleasure of knowing he’d hurt her.
He exhaled angrily into her face. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat filled her nostrils. It was the smell of torment—torment she’d endured ever since her mother died while giving birth to her baby sister—ten years earlier.
“I said look at me, damn it!”
He grabbed her left arm. His fat fingers curled around her flesh, squeezing roughly.
Her blood froze as she flung her eyes open. With clenched jaws, she willed the tears not to brim over and roll down her cheeks.
“Now tell me the truth, Keera. Did you do this?”
Two hundred and fifty pounds of him loomed over her ninety-pound, fifteen-year-old frame.
He held up the remnants of a brown leather belt. Most days, before he left for his construction job, he would snake it through the loops of his blue jeans and tug at it, sucking in his stomach until the prong found the last hole. At the end of the day, the belt would be drenched in sweat, so he’d take it off and hang it on a nail outside his bedroom. He left it there so that it would dry, but mostly so that it would be in easy reach whenever he felt she had disturbed his peace.
The smell of burnt leather hung in the air as he dangled the remaining quarter of the charred strap close to her face.
“Answer me now, girl! Did you do this?”
The hand that still dug into her arm shook her and made her head snap back.
“It was an accident,” she yelled, yanking her arm free.
“I’ve told you a million times not to play with my lighter.”
“But I didn’t—”
“You’re always doing this. Always setting fire to my things!”
“That’s not true.” She backed away, angling her body toward the bathroom door. “I’ve never done it on purpose.”
“I won’t stand for this damn nonsense anymore.” He sneered and stomped toward her. “I’ve had it with you.”
Her back met the bathroom door. It yielded, creaking softly. She spun around, dashed into the bathroom, then turned and flung herself against the door, slamming it shut.
Her heart pounded against her rib cage. She pressed her head against the door, wishing it would all end. She wanted him to turn around, walk down the stairs, and head to the liquor cabinet. Most nights, he would take his whiskey to the basement and drink until he slumped in front of the television. Tonight, he could drink until he knocked himself dead for all she cared.
Bang! The door vibrated against her head. He pounded it again. Leaving her alone seemed the furthest thing from his mind.
“Open the bloody door!”
She held her breath and clutched the handle.
He rattled it from the other side. “Don’t make me break down the damn door, Keera.”
The sound of whimpering came from somewhere downstairs.
Catelyn!
Keera’s mind turned to her younger sister.
Catelyn was thirteen, small-boned, shy, and geeky, complete with braces and thick prescription glasses. Unlike Keera, who had dark coloring, Catelyn had blond hair like their parents. She also had their father’s pug nose.
Catelyn was the apple of his eye, and he never spoke a rough word to her. Keera never resented Catelyn for the difference in the way their father treated them. In fact, she tried to shield Catelyn from the worst of it by making excuses for his temper and wearing clothes that covered up at least some of the nastier bruises.
Keera could imagine Catelyn now, cowering in the closet under the stairs, trembling as she covered her ears. Keera wanted this episode to be over…as much for Catelyn’s sake as for her own.
“You’ll be sorry if I have to break down this bloody door,” their father yelled. “Open up!”
The entire wall vibrated as he banged away.
Keera’s hands began to tingle as if a thousand needles stabbed them.
No. No. Not now.
That was the last thing she wanted to have happen. It was the cause of all the trouble in the first place.
Her father must have rammed his shoulder into door. The wood bucked and the hinges groaned. The door gave way, throwing Keera to the floor.
Her father pelted into the tiny space, diving at Keera and knocking her over.
“No!” she screamed. She really didn’t want to cry out. Catelyn would hear and it would drive more fear into her.
“You’re going to get what’s coming to you,” her father growled. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. She screamed.
She twisted her head away from his hand, pain ripping through her scalp. But she’d won just enough space to raise her chin up and aim for his forearm. She opened her jaw as wide as she could and clamped down.
He howled and released her hair. And just as soon as he did, he curled his fingers into a fist and swung. The blow got her right in the nose.
The scream that escaped her lips made her own blood curdle.
“Keera!” Catelyn called out from downstairs.
The room spun. Pain explod
ed in Keera’s brain. It was so intense she could hardly breathe. She stumbled back and lost consciousness for a few seconds.
When she came to, she felt a wetness on her lips and chin. She looked down and saw red droplets on her pink T-shirt.
Blood! Some of it trickled into her mouth. It was salty and sickening.
“Come here, you,” her father growled. “I’ve only just started.” He grabbed her by the neck with both hands. “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson once and for all about playing with fire.” Pressing his thumbs against her windpipe, he shook her.
She gasped, trying to cry out, to catch a breath. She flailed her arms, feeling as if her life was slipping away. Her palms itched like crazy. It felt more powerful than she’d ever experienced before, and she couldn’t hold back what was happening.
Her hands shook violently. Her fingers closed themselves, tightening into fists. They began to glow with a white light that grew in intensity. Suddenly, her hands flung open. A blinding flash shot out from them and hit the door.
Vroom!
The sound filled the bathroom as the door burst into flames.
Her father turned his head and looked at the door, jerking her with the movement. “Did you just throw one of my lighters?” His hands were still on her throat, and he squeezed harder.
Her hands were still glowing, but he didn’t seem to notice. She reached up and clutched his arms, just below the wrists.
He cried out, released his hold on her throat, and broke free of her fingers. The air was filled with the smell of burnt hair. He looked down at the two red marks on his arms where her hands hand been.
“What the hell?” he yelled.
Suddenly, the glow disappeared from Keera’s hands. She felt faint and her knees buckled.
“Now, you’re really in for it,” her father shouted as he caught her. He shoved her past the flaming door and into the hall. “Get the bloody extinguisher,” he roared. “You’re going to put this out, and then I’m going to deal with you.”
Grabbing her by the scruff of the neck, he dragged her down the hall toward the landing. When she pulled away, he jumped at her with a raised fist.
“Listen, you—”
Those were the last words she heard before she lost her balance. Time seemed to slow down as she fell backward. She lost sight of her father’s angry face, and then the ceiling came into view.
The back of her head hit the edge of a step. Pain rocketed through her skull. Her shoulder blades and spine slammed down, then bounced back up. Her body slid further down the stairs, stopping only when her head banged into a wall.
She lay motionless in total darkness.
Her head throbbed, her bones ached, and every inch of her flesh felt bruised and raw. She was dead—she was sure she was or soon would be.
She must have begun hallucinating because, suddenly, a globe of light surrounded her. She couldn’t actually see it because she felt too weak to open her eyes. But she could somehow sense the light—feel its warmth, smell the purity it brought to the air.
A hand caressed her head.
“Sorry, my child,” a calming voice said. He called her his child, but it was not her father’s voice. “I couldn’t get to you sooner. You’ve used your powers at a strength that means Diabon will be able to find you. But don’t worry. I’ll fix that. I’ll help you make it through this.”
From the spot where the owner of the voice rested his hand on her head, she felt a soothing warmth course through to the rest of her body. It was as if knots of pain were loosening and falling away.
“I must leave you now,” the voice said more hurriedly. “There’s great danger.”
She didn’t know how long she lay sprawled out on the stairs. When she opened her eyes, they stung. She rolled over onto her stomach, coughing.
Smoke was everywhere. It was so thick she couldn’t even see her hand until she brought it right up to her nose. Fire blazed and crackled around her. The flames raged above, where the bedrooms were, as well as on the ground floor.
Doubled over, coughing, she grabbed hold of the railing and pulled herself to her knees.
“Catelyn!” Keera cried out. Where was her little sister? She shot a glance toward the top of the staircase. “Dad!” she yelled.
She heard a cracking noise directly above her and looked up. A flaming chunk of the ceiling came crashing down. She rolled away, the debris missing her by a hair.
She stumbled down the rest of the stairs. Flames and smoke engulfed everything around her. She bent low and crawled toward the closet.
“Catelyn. Where are you?” She pushed aside the sliding door and poked her head in. “Catelyn, you in here?”
No reply. Only the crackling flames and the sound of debris crashing down around her filled her ears. The hot air burnt her lungs, and the smoke stung her eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Where was Catelyn?
Keera covered her nose with one hand and felt for the wall with the other as she crawled along the floor toward the kitchen. The smoke thinned somewhat as she entered, but she still had to keep her eyes squeezed shut as she called out her sister’s name. A slight draft from the left told her the back door was open.
She stumbled across the room, bumping into the table, as she felt her way toward a breath of fresh air.
Against the far wall was the stove. The cabinet to the left of it was old, rickety, and missing a door. Catelyn had taken it over as her special spot when she was four and learned she could crawl into there. She was much bigger now, but Keera’s last hope was that her little sister had sought refuge in there.
“Catelyn!” Keera shouted. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
From somewhere in the kitchen, boards creaked. Wood groaned against wood—louder, this time. Just as she realized the sound had come from above, a dark shadow fell before her still-closed eyes. It waved a wand of heat in front of her face before it crashed to the floor.
A loud hissing noise and the sudden smell of rotten eggs sent her diving out the open door. The air crackled, and then—kaboom!
Billowing winds lifted her as if she were a feather and flung her out into the night.
********
She opened her eyes to darkness. Everything was quiet except for the croaking of frogs and the high-pitched calling of crickets. Something tickled her cheeks. It smelled like grass. She was surrounded by grass that rustled lightly in the wind.
Every inch of her body hurt. She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out as she rolled over and pushed herself up. Pain stabbed her in the head. She sat still for a while to catch her breath.
She was in a ditch with soggy soil that stank under her. The grassy hill, on which she and Catelyn had so often played catch, rose high above her. She must have rolled down from there after the explosion.
She crawled through the chest-high bushes toward the house. The one thought in her mind was finding Catelyn.
Her heart stopped beating when she neared the top—there was nothing where she’d expected to see the roof.
Two figures wearing hard hats and thick garments with reflective strips neared the bushes where she hid.
“So, what does it look like?”
“Two bodies found so far. Looks like one adult and one child.”
“What do we know about this residence?”
“The nearest neighbors, who are half a mile down, say there were three people living here, a widower and his two girls.”
“Hmm, so at least one occupant is unaccounted for. We’ll need to…”
They were almost upon her. She didn’t stay to hear any more of the conversation.
Tears streamed down her face as she turned and dropped to the ground. She let herself roll down the hill. Within seconds, she was back in the ditch.
She got to her feet and ran in the direction where the grasses grew taller. Soon, the bushes on either side towered over her, and she was completely hidden. She lost her right shoe in the mud and her head pounde
d, but she continued to run, even though she had no idea where she was headed.
Catelyn! The name escaped her lips like a plea.
Her little sister didn’t deserve this. And Keera was the cause! It was all her fault. The thought slammed into her chest.
It happened because of her and that strange thing that came over her hands. She had no way to control it. Ever since she could remember, it had been there. Whenever she got angry or upset, pain would sting her palms and fingers, and sparks would fly. But there’d always only been weak flickers, like the small flame from a single matchstick.
Tonight brought the biggest fire she’d experienced, and it had turned her life into hell.
What caused it and why did it happen to her?
She was cursed! She was sure of it.
She was a cursed creature that would be put to death if found, not only for simply existing, but also because of what she’d caused to happen to her family.
She tossed her second shoe and ran, not caring about the grasses that sliced into her arms and legs or the rocks that bruised her soles and ankles. She ran and ran, praying that each step would help her erase the wretched girl called Keera who was cursed with magical fire in her hands.
Chapter 8
Fenix doubled over in pain. She hadn’t foreseen that being back in Birstall would bring all this flooding back to her.
There was no way she could have told Alda or anybody else about her past.
It was just too wretched to think about. One of the reasons she’d shut the memories out of her mind was that they made her feel like flinging herself off a cliff or in front of the bullet train. She hated herself for being the only one to have survived that awful night.
She was tormented by thoughts of what might happen if it ever became known that she’d started the fire that killed her father and younger sister. Surely the Birstall police would come after her. She would be put on trial for casting fire spells and be thrown in jail for life. She probably wouldn’t even get the chance to explain that she hadn’t cast any spells, and that fire somehow came from her hands without her even wanting it.