First, Become Ashes

by K. M. Szpara

  <> Maeve asks. <>

  <>

  <>

  <> I say. <>

  <> she says.

  I pull my shirt over my head and step into the water. It’s so cold, a shiver slides up my spine, but the relief outweighs any discomfort. <>

  <> they both say. The silence that follows tells me their conversations didn’t go well either.

  <> Mindspeech is one of the most taxing spells and, even then, often only works between us when we’re close. Usually, it feels like a link. A passive connection or quiet ping, reminding one another of our presences. I can only maintain coherent speech because Maeve and Zadie are doing most of the work.

  <> Maeve says.

  <> I can practically hear Zadie raise one of her thick brows. <>

  <> Maeve says. <>

  I leverage myself back up to a sitting position. <>

  <> Maeve says. <>

  I nod before remembering neither of them can see me. <>

  <>

  <> Zadie says.

  I smile to myself, tight-lipped and worried, as I let go of my connection to the girls. The pain of being isolated cannot be healed by cold water. And it certainly isn’t magic.

  6

  LARK / NOW

  I hear the locking mechanism beep and whir a second before the door opens and feet sound on the carpet. “Call me if you need anything,” says the social worker, before the door closes again.

  “Lark?” It’s so nice to hear Maeve’s voice in person that I don’t answer right away. “Where—” She stops in the bathroom doorway and smiles when she sees me.

  Zadie squeezes in beside her. “I hate this place.” She crosses her arms and looks around as if it’s her first time inside a bathroom. Our bathhouse wasn’t this—I don’t know what to call it. Decorated? Mirrors span the length of the wall. The lights are so bright, I can barely look at them. No windows to let the steam out. And all this for one person?

  Not me. I don’t want it.

  “Same,” I say, tossing aside the towel I’d wrapped around my head. Damp hair falls around my face and tickles the back of my neck. When I look at the girls, I feel shame burn against the cool wet strands. It’s bad enough they heard me burning myself for magic.

  Maeve beckons me out of the tub, her brown eyes soft and glossy. “Come on.” She takes my hand. “I’ll help you with that.”

  After I dress, Zadie sits facing me on one of the big beds, legs crossed. We hold hands while Maeve combs my hair, dividing it into sections.

  I close my eyes. “Thank you.”

  Zadie shushes me. She’s working too, pushing her magic through me—an exchange of our powers to refresh mine. A part of morning ritual I used to do with Kane. It hasn’t been the same doing so with the mentees I was assigned.

  When Zadie finishes, I feel as scrubbed as I did after my bath. Glowing. She squeezes my hands then releases them. “Feeling better?”

  “For the time being.” I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth, feel the comfort of the metal barbell. It’s not enough. “Kane’s not one of us anymore.”

  I feel Maeve’s hands stop, the hair still taut between her fingers. Zadie’s eyes flick up to meet hers.

  “I think he failed his quest. I think…” The words make my stomach churn. “He’s corrupted.”

  “Oh, Lark.” Maeve exhales. I feel her fingers go limp against my head.

  “He told me he didn’t believe.” My voice is almost a whisper. “In Nova, in our quests. Monsters or magic.”

  “Damn.” Zadie leans back on her elbows as if she can no longer hold herself up under the weight of the news. “He really is gone.”

  “That’s why I wanted to see you two.” Maeve tugs at my hair, then resumes her work. “The whole reason we leave Druid Hill is to save outsiders. We’re Anointed. This is what we train for a quarter century for: to go out into the world and save people. We’re not meant to live behind a fence our whole lives.”

  “But you’re not old enough,” Maeve says.

  “No, but I’m close…” I tilt my head as she ties off one of the braids. “I wish we could talk to Nova. Ask her whether we should forget about Kane or…”

  Zadie shakes her head. “You don’t need to talk to anyone.” Raps her knuckles against her breast. “You know.”

  She’s right. I can’t abandon him. He’s my partner. If I slay a monster and free Kane from its influence … Once he’s free, imagine what we could do together. I know we’re supposed to quest alone when our time comes, but I always dreamed of fighting monsters with Kane. Travelling the wilds of the outside world, saving people, caring for each other. This isn’t how I pictured it.

  “I have to go on my quest. For Kane.”

  “You’re right.” Zadie sits up. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Before they can ‘ease us into society,’” I say, rolling my eyes. Maeve yanks at my hair. “Ow!”

  “Sorry,” she says, though it doesn’t sound like she means it.

  “Don’t tell me you think we should stay here.” Zadie gestures around the room. “In this hotel, while they put Nova on trial. They’re going to make us speak against her in their courts, did you hear?”

  “Yeah.” A shiver runs through me as I remember the creeping, oppressive feeling from the conference room. “I couldn’t stand being so close to that FOE, Agent Miller.”

  “Me neither! Imagine being in a room full of them.” Zadie’s eyes widen as she rolls onto her knees. The bed wobbles under her weight, and Maeve stops moving for a moment. “Sorry.”

  “I felt it too,” Maeve says. “But the social worker told me they were going to split us up—give the children to their birth parents, as if that’s what they need. We don’t even know who our parents are! I’m worried; I don’t want to leave the young Anointed. They’re our responsibility while Nova is indisposed. We should be training them.”

  “I kill monsters,” Zadie says. “I don’t babysit.”

  I feel Maeve finish my braid with a pat on my shoulder before settling beside me. “It’s not babysitting. If we don’t safeguard our community, there won’t be any Anointed to kill monsters. They’ll corrupt us one by one, pin us down with social security numbers and birth certificates, houses and jobs, bank accounts”—she gestures to me—“until we’re mindless outsiders like the rest of them. We have to look out for our own.”

  “Shit.” Zadie bites her thumbnail, like she always does while she’s thinking.

  I wait until a moment passes. Until Zadie’s spitting pieces of her fingernail onto the carpet and Maeve is glaring at her. I say, “I can’t, though.”

  They both look at me. Zadie starts, “If I have to—”

  But I cut her off. “No. You have Maeve. You have your partner, but I don’t. I can’t go on like this. I feel ripped in half. Jagged.” I dig my nails into my thigh. “And the only way to get him back is to kill monsters, and keep killing, until I defeat the one that’s corrupting him. I have to go on my quest, quarter century be damned.”

  Slowly, Maeve nods. “Okay.” She looks at Zadie then at me. “Okay. We support you.”

  “Thank you.” I feel my hair for the first time. Maeve’s plaited a crown atop my head, like she and Zadie we
ar. “And thank you for this.”

  “How’s your magic?” Zadie asks. “I don’t like the thought of you powering yourself up in this room.” She sneers at the walls. “We can help you with that, too, before you leave.”

  “Good idea,” Maeve says. “Let us take care of you before we break you out of here.” She throws her arm around my shoulder. Zadie launches herself forward, knocking the bunch of us over. We laugh and hold one another. Maeve kisses my forehead. She and Zadie hold hands, encircling me.

  I don’t tell them I’m terrified to leave. To walk among the outsiders, hunt a monster on my own. I have a feeling the outside world is much bigger and more dangerous than Nova prepared us for. But I have to undertake my quest for the world and, selfishly, for Kane. If I don’t, I’m just as corrupt as the rest of them.

  * * *

  We set up the ritual as best we can in the cramped room. Move the dresser in front of the door. Sit on the stained carpet, backs pressed up against the beds and the wall. Zadie finds two glasses in the bathroom, and lights a magical flame in each of them. They glow in the center of our three-person circle. I focus on the back of my shoulder, on the pain—on the burns where Maeve pressed hot metal against my flesh over and over. It takes several sessions to build up a full reservoir of magic, to nurture it, but this one is all we can manage given the circumstances. I’m grateful for their help.

  We hold hands. Immediately, I feel their presence like a hug. All three of us flexing the muscle we’ve spent years building. This ritual will camouflage me for an hour or so, long enough to sneak out of this hotel and find my path. Get a lead on the FOEs. Figure out what in the stars I’m doing.

  Kane was the first of us to leave. I was counting on him returning victorious, on his regaling us with tales of victory, on hearing his tips and strategies. I don’t even know what monsters look like, except wrong. I imagine a bigger and worse version of a FOE, but it would’ve been nice to know for sure. I wish I could say goodbye, but I know I can’t. He’s corrupt. I’m not even sure he’s Kane anymore.

  I focus on Zadie and Maeve, on their energy. They’re more than my fellow Anointed, they’re my family, and they’re strong. Several years younger than me, but together, they’re a powerhouse.

  It makes me wonder why Nova doesn’t wait until we can quest in pairs. What’s the point of encouraging us to work so closely with a partner as to become inseparable, only to separate us? Why would she—

  Stars, I’m questioning Nova. I can’t do that—especially not now. After so many years of her commitment to us, we owe her our commitment in her time of need.

  Maeve hums. When Zadie joins her, their harmony adds vibrancy to the ritual, heightens the pull. I feel it whirling out of me: three sources of power growing until they combine. The air churns like wind around us, but I know we are the force of nature moving it. My crown of hair holds fast, though the covers fly off the beds and the curtains splay open. Sunlight burns through my eyelids and I open them to see Maeve and Zadie.

  They’re screaming. I’m screaming. Three notes that sound as a single chord—as magic. The flames flare. Behind me, glass shatters and I bow my head to shield it from the shards that rain down on us.

  Voices not our own shout over our song. I hear the banging of fists on metal and metal against wood as I watch the door force open into the dresser. I see Kane’s face in the crack, before the FOE Miller blots him out.

  “Stand back!” she shouts.

  Zadie and Maeve each grab one of my hands, and I feel the circle’s energy work its way through me, changing me. When I look at my body, I see only its echo, a faint form where a person might be.

  “Go!” Maeve shouts. “We’ll hold them.”

  The three of us stand as the dresser tumbles over with a loud thud. As our connection breaks, the room begins to calm, and I know this is the only chance I’ll have to leave.

  With quick steps, I hop through the field of broken glass and hurtle through the empty space where the window used to be. I feel a momentary surge—two pings. One from Maeve, one from Zadie. Goodbyes.

  And then, against my better judgment, I send one of my own. To Kane: <>

  * * *

  I race up a street lined with cars and uniformed outsiders. I’m holding my breath. I should trust the magic, but we’ve never performed that ritual before, and I’ve never moved among outsiders and I’m alone, again. Damn, damn, damn.

  My chest heaves with a stuttering sob. I need a plan. I wipe at the corners of my eyes as I run. I can do this. I’ve trained for it. I’m Anointed.

  I time my thoughts with the pattern of my feet as they fall one in front of the other. As outsiders jump out of my way, paper bags swinging from their elbows. First, I’ll go back to Druid Hill. See what the FOEs left behind: weapons, books, potions. I’ll need a pack for the road. I make a mental inventory now, so I won’t have to once I’m there: water filter, a tent, a change of clothes. Once I cross the fence, I won’t have time to waste. For all I know, the FOEs are still there. They’re not stupid. If anything, I’ll have to assume the monsters they serve have enhanced their abilities.

  An outsider reaches for their children, gathering them against a glass shop window as I pass. I catch their eyes and they follow me. Follow. Can they see me? Impossible. We only performed the camouflage ritual minutes ago.

  I slow, looking at my own arms, looking at the people fleeing as I stop in the middle of a sidewalk. Dozens of eyes trained on me like arrows. Do they know who I am? That my quest is to save them? The idea of talking to them repulses me—what if it dilutes my power? I can’t spare any on the road—but it could work. If I explained my purpose, they might listen and help.

  Trusting outsiders corrupted Kane.

  But I’m not Kane. He said he’d abandoned us months before he left. My heart is on the right path. I’m strong. I approach one of the only outsiders that isn’t walking swiftly away. An outsider with a black device strapped over their head and against their ears.

  “My name is Meadowlark,” I say. “Don’t be afraid. I’m Anointed.”

  They don’t even look at me.

  I clench my jaw. “Which way is Druid Hill?”

  Suddenly, their eyes latch onto mine, wide and blue. They stumble back, pulling the device off their head; it rests around their neck. “Oh shit.”

  I follow. “Tell me the way.”

  They stick their hand in a leather bag and pull out a pink plastic container. Hold it toward me like a weapon. “Get away from me. Fuck!” They back up so fast, they almost fall. Then, they run.

  So much for helpful outsiders. I knew Kane’s story sounded off. Nova told us outsiders wouldn’t understand us and wouldn’t want our help. They live their whole lives beyond the fence, soaking in corruption. Like the stench of a filthy home, they don’t even notice.

  “Oh my god, is that…?”

  “Dude, it is.”

  Two outsiders walk toward me. These two must be brave—must want to be saved. I meet them at the corner. “My name is Meadowlark.”

  “Hey, I’m Optimus Prime.” The outsiders look at each other and snicker.

  “And I’m Thor.” Their faces contort as if trying to suppress their emotions.

  I don’t really care what their names are, but I suppose I’m glad they trust me enough to share. Maybe they’ll actually help. “I’m from the Fellowship of the Anointed and need to find my way to Druid Hill—”

  Optimus Prime snorts.

  “—so I can begin my quest—”

  Thor bursts into a laugh. “I can’t do it, dude.” They clap a hand on their friend’s shoulder, barely coherent. “I mean, I can’t do it, Optimus!”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell you where to go,” Optimus Prime says. They point to a nearby street. “If you wait by that sign, the Hogwarts Express will take you to Narnia.”

  “That’s through a closet, dumbass.” They consult each other.

  I try to get their attention. “What’s Narnia
?”

  “Ride it toward the second star to the right and straight on till morning.” But they keep laughing at each other, giving instructions I don’t understand, names and places I don’t remember from any map.

  Wait.

  “God, I can’t believe you really think you’re a wizard.” Thor looks me over, shaking their head. “Do you have a wand too?”

  This is a joke—outsider humor. The heat of rage burns through my body, and I whisper against my palm. I don’t need a wand to make magic. Like I threw the guard from my path at the hotel, I thrust Thor against the glass wall of a shop. Inside, people shout and disperse. How naive of me to think I could trust outsiders.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Optimus Prime come at me. They rear back their bony fist and swing.

  I step easily out of the way. The outsider stumbles, confused. I’m not wasting any more magic on these people. Optimus doesn’t see the punch coming. I leave him stupefied on the cement. Power courses through me. Even though I barely used any, I feel more Anointed than I ever have. Surer of myself and what I must do—for Kane and the Fellowship. For everyone.

  I don’t care that our camouflage ritual didn’t work. Let them see me. I walk past onlookers with purpose. They scatter before me like birds from the sidewalk.

  A siren wails in the distance. FOEs, no doubt. I move faster, but can’t seem to shake the attention I’ve drawn. Running only makes it worse. I hear a voice crackle from a black device on a uniformed person’s belt—an outsider leaning in through the window of a white car emblazoned with BALTIMORE CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT. “… on the lookout for … dangerous … approximately five foot eight, long blonde hair, probably braided … wanted as a witness…” The FOE doesn’t respond to the report right away, and I don’t chance their speed.

  I dash through the crowd, looking for a way to shake them. I don’t know the city from within, but if I can find privacy, I can cast a homing spell. But the streets only thicken with outsiders the farther I get from the hotel. I’m not used to this many people, and I don’t like it. Don’t like how close the buildings are or that the air stinks like grease.