In Smoke And Ruins (Burned by Magic Book 2)

by Gina Shafer

  “I—” Soren stops, though it seems there’s more he wants to say. His face is blank, and he stares at the wall like it’s grown arms and legs.

  “What you don’t know is that there is another magic, a deeper, purer magic. One that only a certain few have the power to hold. It was once the only magic in the world until—” Lincoln’s words stop short, and I only just now notice that I’m on the edge of my seat.

  “Until what?” I ask, though my words may have well fallen on deaf ears. “Until what, Lincoln?”

  Lincoln’s head snaps up. “It’s a very long story,” he says, and his eyes go glassy, almost as if I’ve gone completely invisible to him.

  “It’s about your daughter, isn’t it?” Soren asks, and my interest is immediately peaked.

  “How old are you, Lincoln?” I hear my voice, like gravel under heavy wheels, before my mind has a chance to catch up.

  A smile grazes his lips for a moment before he answers. “Now that is an interesting question. One I haven’t heard in a very long time. And I guess the answer would depend on the way you measure time, but for now, let’s just say that I am very old.”

  The door swings open, and Marcel fills the room, breaking up the thick and heavy atmosphere that seems to have built in the time since Lincoln joined us. “We have a situation out here. The girl you guys brought with you, Mya—there’s a young man asking for her.”

  I clear my throat. “Show us the way,” I say, rising from my chair and flashing a look at both Lincoln and Soren that I’m sure coveys my thoughts. We will finish this discussion later.

  “Lincoln, do you have any idea where this location could be?” I ask, holding up the drawing from my vision of Elijah.

  “I’ll take a look,” he says, inspecting the paper as Soren and I leave the room.

  Marcel briefs us on the way. We make our way through the hallways in the warehouse. “The kid says his name is James. Made a huge stink about being let inside, that he was looking for his sister. Soon as we opened the doors, he took off his backpack and threated to blow every single one of us up with the bomb he has inside. Don’t know if he’s for real, but either way, he’s really upset. Figured out of everyone, you could diffuse the situation.”

  “Well, thanks for thinkin’ of me,” I joke. “Has anyone gone to Mya? Can we use her to calm her brother down?” I ask, and before I even finish, Marcel nods his head.

  “I just sent Micha up a few moments ago. Should be down any minute,” he tells me.

  “Okay, good. Don’t bring her out until we can gauge the safety of the situation,” I say.

  We round the corner to the main room in the warehouse, and I see the boy before he sees us. Soren and Willow are at my side, and Lincoln is farther back, taking in the scene. Marcel has already joined ranks with the other Sicarri surrounding James. It only takes me a second to realize there is no bomb. The look on James’s face is fearful, not angry.

  Though stupid things are done as a result of both emotions, I can tell this boy wouldn’t hurt a fly. The look on Soren’s face tells me he feels the same way.

  We move to the side of the group, trying not to bring too much attention to ourselves.

  The boy calls out again, and this time we’re close enough to understand what he’s saying. When I see his face up close, I wish Elijah were here. Something about the pain etched there reminds me of the man I love, and how good he would be in this situation.

  “I mean it!” James’s voice breaks. “I want my sister right now,” he screams, holding his backpack in front of him like a shield.

  “We’re bringing down your sister, son. Just give us a minute to get her things in order,” Marcel tells him.

  “I’m not your son! And I don’t believe you! I swear if you hurt her….” He trails off, tears spill from his eyes.

  “James,” I call. His gaze lands on me and recognition registers on his face as his eyes widen. Have I met him before? He doesn’t look familiar, but then again, neither did his sister. Maybe he recognizes his sister’s power in me.

  “Tell me where she is,” he says, no calmer than before. Only now he’s speaking directly to me.

  “You’ll be able to see her as soon as you settle down,” I explain, slowly moving closer with each word.

  “I’ll calm down when these assholes stop waving a gun in my face,” he says, pointing to the nearest Sicarri.

  They are brandishing weapons with worried looks on their faces. Shea happens to be one of them; he’s someone I grew up with, so I know that when I tell him to lower his weapon, he will.

  “They’re only here in case you decide to do something that isn’t wise. Like blowing us all up, for one.” I lean closer, flanked by Soren and Willow. The boy is startled but tolerates it, his eyes flicking between the three of us, unsure. This time I whisper so hopefully only he can hear. “They’ll lower the guns as soon as you let them in on your little secret.” I motion toward the backpack in his hands, so close to me now that I could reach out and snatch it from him before he even realized what was happening. But I don’t.

  I watch as understanding dawns on him, and I pull back a little when he recoils. His next move is interesting, since he knows that I know he doesn’t have a bomb, and that he is probably no more dangerous than a stray cat begging for food. He takes the backpack in both hands and slips it back onto his back, looking down at the concrete floor the entire time.

  “Please,” he begs one last time. “I need to see her.”

  “Of course.” I motion for the Sicarri to lower their weapons and stand down. “I’m gonna take James to see his sister. No bombs.” Then, as if to punctuate my sentence, James butts in.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was just scared.” Before he gets the chance to elaborate, commotion at the elevator grabs our attention. Mya slams her palm into a Sicarri guard’s nose and knocks him flat on his ass. If it wasn’t concerning, I’d laugh.

  “James!” she yells, and he runs to her.

  “Let him through,” I tell the Sicarri moving to surround him before he reaches her. “They’re no danger”

  “Tell that to Jay,” Soren whispers, hiding the smirk on his face as he tilts his head at the Sicarri guard still struggling to pick himself off the ground after his run-in with Mya. I smile to myself too, proud of these two young kids and their strength.

  The rest of the Sicarri move out of the way as we get closer, and finally Mya and James embrace. Mya hugs him so tightly, it makes me wonder what it must be like to have a brother. Family you love so much that it pains you to be away from them. And then I remember my grandmother, and Elijah, and I look away.

  As I walk closer to them, Soren and Willow follow.

  “You guys want some food?” I ask, hoping that my soothing demeanor will help the group calm down. You don’t go waving a bomb around in the middle of a bunch of Sicarri soldiers, especially since they’re still getting over the attack on them a while back. James is going to have a hell of a time living this one down.

  “Please,” James says, his voice much more sheepish than before. Fear must make him brave. Not a bad quality.

  “Follow us,” Soren says, and we take them upstairs, Soren and Willow leading the way to his room. I fall back slightly, wondering where Lincoln could be and whether or not he’s made any headway on the drawing. I don’t see him though, so for now I’ll tend to these kids and give him time.

  Time that I hope Elijah has.

  “… And then Soren kicked him right in the teeth. You should have seen it. And the guns were so loud. James, it was crazy!” Mya’s voice fills the room as crumbs fall from her full mouth. As if she knows what I’m thinking, she picks up her cornbread and shoves another bite into her mouth. James laughs as he moves his spoon around his chili. I don’t blame him. It’s Marcel’s recipe, and I’d be lying if I said it was delicious. But it’s food, so we don’t complain.

  “How did you get caught anyway?” I ask Mya. Her eyes flick from James to me, almost like she’s ask
ing for permission from him to talk about it. When he nods, I realize that’s exactly what she’s doing.

  “Does it work for him?” I ask, referring to the mind-reading.

  “Yes,” she replies in a small, squeaky voice. Soren’s eyes widen, and I try to remain unfazed. Having someone so near that can hopefully give us some answers is exciting, no matter how old they are.

  “We were out looking for someone,” James says.

  “Who?”

  “Our father. He, well, he leaves the camp from time to time, looking for more people like us. This time he didn’t return. I finally got fed up with the others being too afraid to search for him, so Mya and I left,” James explains.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “You’re saying there are others? People who can send their thoughts, you mean?” Soren asks, changing the tune of the conversation.

  “Not just that. We’re capable of so much more!” Mya exclaims.

  “Mya—” James scolds her, and I don’t understand why he’s so tight-lipped.

  I lean forward, my eyes searching between the two of them. Mya gulps and I open my mouth to speak. “You two realize that you’re safe here. The Sicarri would never hurt you, magical powers or not. Besides that, here in this room you’re even safer. Soren has magic, and apparently I have whatever you have. You can talk openly and freely, without consequence, and you have our full protection.”

  The two kids nod, and then all is unleashed.

  “Soren has the same magic that you do,” James tells us, so sure of himself that for a moment, I don’t even feel the need to question him.

  “How do you know that?” Soren asks.

  “Those with the ability can sense it in others—once fine-tuned, of course,” James says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, connecting with Soren for a brief second. I’m sure the look of confusion on his face is mirrored on my own.

  “You’re both so much more powerful than you think,” Mya adds, smiling down at her bread.

  “There are some who are,” James adds. “We’ve been collecting them from all around the world, teaching them to harness their powers. Showing them how to use their magic without burning. We’re, special.”

  I’m speechless. How have the Sicarri never learned of this? Never gotten wind of a group of magic users with the ability to read minds and who knows what else?

  “Tell us everything,” Soren begs.

  “Where do you want to start?” James asks, shrugging. He seems so much more relaxed now.

  “Who’s we? How many of you are there?”

  “That’s easy,” Mya butts in. “There’s three hundred and eighty-two of us. Well, eighty-five if you count you guys,” she says, resuming her meal.

  “Eighty-five? But that makes three more,” Soren says, his brows furrowing deeply over his eyes.

  “The one Karina’s bonded with possesses the ability too,” James tells us, and at once, Soren’s eyes snap to mine.

  Elijah…

  Suddenly my heart aches in the place that Elijah’s presence normally fills. I spin the ring on my finger to try and calm myself. My eyes drift from Soren’s, and for a moment I’m tempted to cross that threshold, to daydream about Elijah until my mind isn’t sure what’s real and what’s not. But I catch Soren’s gaze again, and he brings me back to the present.

  I can tell almost exactly what Soren is thinking, even without the ability to mind-read.

  “How do you know that I’ve bonded with someone?” I ask them both.

  “Your powers don’t reveal themselves fully until you do. When you bond, you unlock something inside yourself and inside the one you bond to. It can be a friend, a loved one, a brother, a mother. You have to open yourself up, let the person inside, and then you’ll start to notice more and more power. Sometimes more than you can handle,” James says.

  “We need to find Lincoln,” I tell Soren, standing. It surprises me when Mya and James follow suit.

  “Thank you for the hospitality,” James says, “but we must be getting back. Our people will be worried about us. We were supposed to return days ago.” Mya shoots James a look, almost like she doesn’t want to leave yet, but something exchanged between them tells me she knows that she must follow James.

  “You know, you really should come with us. We can show you how to use your magic without burning,” Mya adds, the look of hope on her face so pure, I hate to crush it. But I don’t have to. James speaks before I have to explain to Mya why I can’t leave right now, and why Soren can’t either.

  “They have to stay, Mya. They’re searching for someone,” he says. If I ever doubted their abilities, James just proved me wrong. I never mentioned we were looking for Elijah. Never even mentioned him at all. So how would they know he’s missing?

  “You see…there’s more power in the world than just the kind that burns,” James says, and Soren and I nod, in awe of these two young kids. They can go from childish to wise in seconds, without even a signal that they’re turning.

  “If you change your mind, please come. In Oregon, we have a place in the Three Sister’s Wilderness,” Mya informs me.

  As they pack up the few things they brought, I can’t stop myself from asking, “What about your dad?”

  They both still, their packs in their tightly gripped fingers.

  “He, um, he died. We found him hours before Mya was taken. The demons must have gotten him, because his body was drained of magic,” James says, and my heart nearly breaks for them. Words fail me. I know what it’s like to lose your parents young.

  “It’s okay, Karina. You’ll see one day, or at least I hope you will. Our people, we’re family. We’re all we’ve got.” Mya smiles, and I do too, though it’s hard to get past the lump in my throat.

  “Are you sure we can’t help you get back?” Soren asks, and I know how he feels. Sending children off into this world, with things as dangerous as they are, doesn’t feel right.

  “No,” James says. “We need to travel quietly. Low profile. We can’t get caught up in the demon war with the Sicarri,” he finishes, and part of me understands. They’re on a mission, and Soren and I… the Sicarri would just get in their way. But there’s so much more I want to know, and so very much that I wish I understood.

  “You’re sure there isn’t anything we can do for you two? I don’t like the idea of you both out there with nothing to defend yourself with,” Soren asks, and I agree with him. And though I search for the words to convey how I feel, I come up short. I stay silent.

  “Our biggest weapon is her,” James nods at his sister, and she smiles brightly.

  “Won’t you come with me to the arms room? At least let me give you a couple of daggers, in case you find yourselves in a tight spot,” Soren urges and the two look to each other and nod in agreement.

  Maybe I’m still reeling, or maybe it’s deeper. But I don’t say another word for the rest of our time with Mya and James, though everything in me is screaming to keep them here, to keep them safe.

  I join them in the arms room as they delicately choose their daggers. Finally, we lead them from the warehouse and say our goodbyes. We watch them start their trek back across country. I don’t take my eyes off them until they disappear from view. Then, I turn to Soren.

  “Lincoln.” One word is all it takes, and the game is back on.

  He has to know what the hell is going on.

  Lincoln, Soren, Willow, and I sit out back at one of the only sets of tables and chairs that were salvaged after the attack a while back. This area was used as sort of a break spot, where a Sicarri could go and clear their heads when they needed air.

  Right now, it’s being put to good use. We’ve been quiet for the most part, thinking, planning, and reaching as far back into our minds as possible for the answers to our problems. We’ve been able to share most of our concerns with Lincoln regarding my mental connection with Elijah and a different type of magic none of us knew about.. Two huge bombs that have dropped in our l
aps in such a short time span.

  Lincoln hasn’t gotten anywhere with the drawing I scribbled earlier. I don’t blame him; it wasn’t much to go off. But it really is the only clue we have, and it could take us months to search every possible location. Thoughts of Elijah are never far from my mind.

  “Lincoln, tell me about the magic Karina and I have the ability to harness. Start from the beginning,” Soren says.

  “You want to know the difference between light magic and fire magic,” Lincoln answers. It’s not a question, but a statement.

  “If that’s what you’re calling it,” Soren tells him, leaning back and sighing. The motion looks so odd considering the topic under discussion. It’s only then do I realize how completely tense I’ve been holding my body. I take a cue from Soren and try to relax my muscles, knowing that if it comes to a fight anytime soon, my muscles will be shot.

  “That’s what everyone called it a long time ago,” Lincoln explains. Willow lifts her head, tilting it to the side, and yawns before returning to her slumber.

  “So what is light magic?” I ask him, moving my seat closer to him. Soren does the same, and I realize that we look like two children eager for another bedtime story.

  “Light magic is pure, predictable, but harnessed with much more difficulty than fire magic. It is the basis upon which all magic was built. Fire magic is the kind that burns, and although all magic stems from the light inside you, once you let the fire take over, that light turns dingy and dark, like that of billowing smoke. That is why it is impossible to turn back once you’ve handed yourself over to fire magic, as tempting as it is. It is more easily handled sure, but using it is not without consequence.”

  “Why is this never spoken of and passed down? I remember stories from my dad, about how shadow-walkers started out as regular people who gave themselves over to their magic.” Soren shakes his head in confusion as he tries to concentrate. “But from what you’re telling us, these two forms of magic are older than anyone knew.”