by Ruby Brown
“Scared and intimidated, Praethen took her child down to the mortal realm, where she would be safe from the influence of her father. Before he left her daughter, Praethen promised her that when she turned eighteen, the age she deemed old enough to make her own decision about her path in life, she’d come back for her and let her make her choice.”
Mal waited for Cass to finish telling her the story, to tell her what happened when the girl turned eighteen, but Cass didn’t keep talking. She just stared at the floor, twisting her fingers together anxiously. The silence stretched on long enough to make Mal uncomfortable, and then Cass sighed and said “When you used your magic back in the testing room...it was pure light and dark magic, exactly the kind that Praethen and Akraansir use. That’s why you couldn’t conjure the four main elements, you were focusing on a magic that wasn’t yours.”
“I’m the girl from the story?” Mal stuttered, her brain reeling as she tried to process this new information.
Cass nodded solemnly.
“But you said that it was just a myth,” Mal said as a part of her recoiled in fear.
“I thought it was. For years, people tried to find the girl that the legend speaks of. But they couldn’t find her, and after a while it became more of a bedtime story for children than anything else. Sure, there were still a few people who truly believed in the legend and that one day the girl would come and save them, but they were never taken seriously.”
“Save them?”
Cass’s eyes widened slightly, and then her face closed and her eyes sparked with a hidden flame. She was clearly furious with herself. She’d said too much. “It doesn’t matter,” she said.
“Tell me,” Mal demanded as she felt her anxiety spike.
“There’s a prophecy attached to the legend,” Cass mumbled. Each word she spoke was said hesitantly, as if they were being forcibly wrenched from her throat.
“What does the prophecy say?” Mal prompted, after a moment of silence that showed Cass was unwilling to say any more than that.
Cass fixed Mal with a piercing stare, as if assessing Mal’s readiness for what she was about to say. Mal wished she would just come out and say it. She shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed, clenching her nervously sweating palms around the scratchy bedsheets.
“When the final sacrifice is made
The dark will fail, the light will fade
A defeated victory finally won
A dreaded fate she couldn’t outrun.” Dallas’s voice came from behind Cass. He was standing up against the wall with his arms crossed, his fingers tapping out the beat of the song playing through the earphones that seemed to be permanently glued to his ears. He only had one earphone in though, which was his equivalent of listening intently. Mal had been so caught up in what Cass was saying that she hadn’t noticed him come into the room.
“Dallas!” Cass said angrily.
Dallas shrugged. “She deserves to know,” he said heavily, and came closer to the bed. He pulled up one of the chairs and collapsed into it, running his fingers through his floppy black fringe. He looked so tired and stressed, and Mal’s heart ached for him. She was starting to get scared. It was unusual to see Dallas like this.
Suddenly, something in Mal’s brain clicked. She felt her eyes widen as she considered the words to the prophecy, feeling her heart start to race. “Does that mean...” she said shakily, and then paused and fought for control over her voice. “Does that mean...to save the world...I have to die?”
Cass looked at her solemnly. “I’m sorry.”
As the dying rays of the sun painted the sky with vibrant shades, Mal hadn’t regained her strength, so she sent her parents a text saying that she was spending the night at Claire’s house and prayed they wouldn’t check. Soon after, she fell asleep on her bed, lulled into lethargy by the sound of footsteps pacing outside the door of the hospital wing and the gentle rustling of sheets as the other patients rolled over.
Chapter 9
Mal was woken by a deep sense of unease that rested deep in her bones. Something was wrong. The back of her neck prickled and her nerves started to sing as she reached blindly through the darkness to seize the cold handle of her knife. The weight of it in her hand soothed her, and slowly she levered herself into a sitting position, despite every instinct telling her to lie still hope it goes away.
The gently glowing rays of the crescent moon outside the infirmary window leeched through the darkness, allowing Mal to scan the room with her wide, frightened eyes. She could feel her hands trembling, so she gripped the handle of her knife tighter in an effort to collect the broken fragments of her nerves.
Mal looked around the room, but she couldn’t see anything but the sleeping patients curled under their blankets. Slowly, she started to calm down and scolded herself for allowing herself to get so scared so easily. As a final check to reassure herself, she turned around to look behind her.
A scream bubbled up in her throat, but before it could wrench itself free from her mouth it was muffled by the large pillow that was quickly placed over her face. The adrenaline and fear made her blood boil in her veins as Mal blindly lashed out with her knife. She heard a violent hiss of pain from the person above her and a few warm droplets of scarlet blood trickled onto her arm. Triumphant, Mal recoiled her arm and then lunged again. Her movements were as fast as a striking snake, but the fear had infected her brain and made her technique sloppy, so the attacker wrenched the knife free from her fist with one hand.
Then the attacker cast the pillow to one side, where it slid across the cold marble floor of the infirmary, and it was then that Mal got a good look at her attacker. They were dressed from head to toe in tight black clothes, with a dark pair of eyes and a messy mop of hair emerging from the top of the ski mask that covered half his face. Blood dripped from the cut on his forearm that Mal’s knife had left. The blood trickled down his arm, heading towards the mark burnt into the back of his hand. It looked kind of like a trident, with a diamond at the base and three dots coming from the middle fork that decreased in size.
Eyes glinting with indescribable emotion, he raised the shimmering metal knife and brought it down. Panicking, Mal rolled off of the bed and landed hard on the floor. On the way down, she hit her head on the bedside table. Her scream of pain woke the rest of the patients in the infirmary, and lamplights started clicking on across the room, accompanied by grumbles of annoyance and cries of fear once they saw the man by Mal’s bed. Some of them started reaching for their weapons as Mal scurried away from him. Blood from a gash on her head flowed down her face, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. Her vision was swimming and the only thing she could hear was the violent pounding of her heart.
Without missing a beat, the man pounced away from the bed and sprinted across the room before throwing himself out of the window. Glass sprayed out in all directions, landing with a tinkling sound on the marble floor. As he leapt out into the cold night air, he curled up into a ball, and then let himself drop. Mal cried out as his body plummeted to the ground, seized by disbelief. A few of the patients started hurrying towards the window, some of them hobbling on crutches, as a few frantic nurses who had emerged tried to restore order.
One of the nurses hurried towards Mal and pulled her up from the floor, holding her close and muttering soothing words in her ear while gently dragging her away from the rest of the crowd. Numbly, Mal sat on the bed the nurse directed her to and allowed her to dab at her face with a wet cloth and wipe off the blood. The nurse was trying to talk to her, but frankly Mal didn’t care what she was saying. She was too busy trying to process what happened. Once the nurse realised Mal was about as responsive as a brick wall, she shut up and focused on cleaning Mal’s head. The shock was starting to set in, and Mal clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking.
Suddenly, the infirmary doors burst open and Rose walked in. Even though she was dressed in her pyjamas with her hair mussed from sleep, she still somehow managed to look intimidating and ma
naged to quell the noise of the patients with a single glance. Trapped like flies in the web of her gaze, they shuffled their feet nervously and looked mildly embarrassed, like toddlers being caught doing something they shouldn’t. Following Rose was Dallas, quiet and observant as always, his hands clenching and unclenching anxiously. They headed straight for Mal and bombarded her with questions.
“Are you okay?”
“Who was it?”
“What did they look like?”
“You do know you’re bleeding, right?”
Mal stared at them blankly. Eventually, Rose groaned in frustration and seized a glass of water that was resting on the bedside table next to her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she emptied the contents onto Mal’s head. Mal gasped in shock as the cold water soaked through her thin cotton nightdress, and the surprise brought her back to reality.
Shakily, she told Dallas and Rose everything she could remember. They listened intently with solemn faces. Mal noticed Dallas’ hands were trembling and Rose’s kept returning to her hips, trying to find the guns that were usually holstered there, and when her fingers found only the soft fabric of her pyjamas her expression hardened that much more. As she spoke, Mal tried to imagine what they must be feeling right now. Tenebar is their home, their sanctuary, a place they could feel safe under the protection of those they cared about. Not anymore.
Dallas got Mal a piece of paper and a pen so she could sketch the symbol she saw on the attacker. When she had finished, he took the paper from her hands and studied the drawing intently before wordlessly showing it to Rose, who frowned in puzzlement. “I’ve never seen this before.”
“Cass?” said Dallas.
“Mal, you’re coming,” Rose said decisively.
Mal nodded and stood up on wobbly legs, following them out of the door, dodging a few earnest nurses on the way. Tenebar looked incredibly different at night time. The gently glowing chandelier cast eerie shadows spiralling across the room, the light only just managing to make the diamond constellations glint softly. Mal found herself glancing anxiously at the open windows, inspecting the inky darkness beyond to try and see if there were human figures concealed in its depths. She felt like she was being watched.
The trio climbed the stairs and reached Cass’s office door. They all paused at the entrance, and Mal looked up to see Dallas and Rose both looking at her.
“Oh, you want me to...? Okay,” Mal said nervously, and she unwillingly raised her fist to knock politely and quietly on the door in front of them. When there was no response, she knocked again. Nothing happened.
“For God’s sake,” Rose muttered, and she leaned over Mal to start pounding the door with her fist like it owed her money. The sound echoed through the dark building far too loudly and Mal winced at each blow. Finally, the door swung open and a very sleepy Blaise emerged so suddenly Rose almost punched him in the face.
“What are you doing?” Blaise snapped. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Yes, we’re sorry, but...” Mal said hurriedly.
“I don’t want to hear it. Whatever teenage drama you lot have gotten yourselves into, it can wait till morning. Goodnight,” he said firmly, and tried to close the door on them.
Rose stuck her foot in between the closing door and the frame. Blaise pulled the door back and slammed it against her foot hard enough to make Rose wince in pain. Next to her, Mal felt Dallas bristle, but before he could react Rose said “Mal was attacked. An assassin came into the infirmary and tried to kill her. He had this symbol on his hand.” Rose held up the piece of paper that Mal had used to sketch earlier. “We thought you and Cass would be able to tell us what it means or where it’s from.”
Blaise inspected the symbol with wide eyes. “Yes, okay, fine. Come in. But this better be quick. I need my beauty sleep,” he said, and stepped aside from the door to let them in. As they entered the room, Mal heard Dallas mutter “no amount of beauty sleep is ever going to fix you. You look like someone set your face on fire and then tried to put it out with a fork.”
A small bubble of laughter escaped from Mal’s throat before she clamped her lips together tightly. Blaise shot her a look. “What’s so funny?” he asked, and Mal was strongly reminded of the oppressive teachers at her school, the ones that would give you detentions just for breathing.
“Nothing,” Mal said, and Blaise scoffed and looked away, giving Mal an opportunity to lock eyes with Dallas and grin. He smiled shyly back.
Blaise slid into the seat behind his desk and reached for the piece of paper with the sketch on it. He spun around on his chair as he inspected it with a furrowed brow. “Tell me about the attack,” he demanded, pointing at Mal without taking his eyes off of the page.
Mal opened her mouth to speak, but before she could start the door to her right swung open and Cass stepped out, her wings folded tight against her back, the feathers seeming even brighter when pressed against the white fabric of her nightdress. “Blaise?” she asked softly, confusion and sleep draped about her slender frame. “What...what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Blaise said quickly. “Go back to bed.”
“Are you all okay?” Cass asked, ignoring her brother and looking at the trio of terrified teenagers gathered around his desk.
“Mal was attacked,” Rose said.
“Attacked? By who?” Cass said, her voice becoming brisk and alert. She pushed a lock of hair from her face and straightened her spine.
“It doesn’t matter. Go away,” Blaise insisted. Cass just glared at him.
“We don’t know, but we think it has something to do with this symbol,” Rose said and she leant forwards to pluck the piece of paper from Blaise’s hands. He looked on in tight-lipped fury as Rose handed the paper to Cass. Cass shook her head. “I’ve never seen this before. Does anyone have any ideas?”
The room fell silent. Mal could almost hear the mechanisms of their brains ticking away, each of them lost in the depths of their own thoughts, scattered across different points in time.
“Would the library have any information on this?” Mal asked, just to break the suffocating silence and to stop her thoughts becoming too intense.
Cass frowned. “I don’t think so. If Blaise and I have never seen it before, it’s unlikely to be in any book we have.”
“We can always try,” said Mal.
“Let’s head down there now,” Rose said, moving towards the door.
“It can wait till tomorrow. It’s really not that urgent,” Blaise said firmly.
Rose paused. “Someone broke into Tenebar and tried to kill Mal. That’s not urgent to you?”
“Blaise, please,” Cass said softly.
“It’s late, and I need you and Dallas alert for training and initiation of the new recruits tomorrow. Mal can sleep in the girls’ dormitories for the night,” Blaise insisted, ignoring his sister.
“Won’t she be too exposed in the dorms?” Cass said. “It’s important the others don’t find out about her.”
“What do you mean?” Mal asked.
Cass’s expression turned serious, and when she spoke again her voice was hushed and trembling. “When you used your powers...It was pure, unfiltered energy, and it almost killed people. If the wrong people found out about you, they could use you as a weapon. You need to gain control of your powers, and we need to have a better understanding of them. Until then, it’s incredibly important that no one outside of this room knows the truth. We’ve put you down as a fire mage in the official records and tomorrow you will be initiated as such. That should be enough to fool most people.”
Mal nodded, tapping her fingers anxiously against her leg.
“She’ll be fine in the dorm. Unless she’s stupid enough to lose control again, like she did in the examination room. Can I trust you to control yourself?” Blaise said patronizingly.
Mal clenched her teeth and nodded politely.
“Just in case, I think she should sleep here. Will the couch be okay, Mal?” Cass asked
concernedly. Mal smiled and nodded.
“No. I don’t want her here. I’ll take her down to the dorms myself,” Blaise said, standing up. “It’s late, and this conversation has gone on for long enough. Mal, with me. The rest of you, back to bed. Now.”
Firmly, Blaise placed his hand on Mal’s shoulder and started to steer her towards the door. Dallas and Rose hesitantly followed them. Cass hung back and watched them go, something different brewing behind her eyes. Eventually, she sighed and turned away, going back into her room with her slumped shoulders giving her an almost defeated appearance.
When they exited Cass’s office, Blaise continued to push Mal down the stairs until she shook herself free and snapped “I can walk by myself, thank you.”
Blaise’s eyes widened slightly in shock before his regular expression of indifference slipped back into place. “Well can you go a bit faster, please? I want to go back to sleep.”
Mal bit back her response and fell behind to walk with Rose and Dallas. “What is going on?” she asked them, unable to think of anything else to say. Her confusion and shock were absolute, encompassing and overpowering any other emotion she was capable of.
“Well, I don’t want to scare you too much, but it looks like someone is trying to kill you,” Rose said, matter-of-factly, her narrowed eyes never drifting from the obnoxious figure of Blaise in front of them.
“Oh,” said Mal.
When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Dallas and Rose went down a separate corridor. At least Dallas had the decency to look mildly apologetic as he walked away and left Mal with this new, highly irritating version of Blaise, but Rose just smirked and waved cheerfully as they left Mal behind.