by Anna Sanders
“What’s going on?”
Hands restrained her. Winx stopped long enough to recognize Genevieve landing near her.
“Esteban Chavez is back there!” Winx was tearing against the princess’s hold. “He’s found us!”
“What are you talking about? No, he isn’t!”
“I just saw him!” Winx managed to free herself from Genevieve’s hands. “Keaton’s got him!”
“What? No! That’s not…ugh.” She grunted in frustration and took off in the direction of the clearing.
Winx watched her go with a frown. Genevieve ran through the trees unmindful of the train of her dress snatching onto brambles in her haste.
Though reluctant, Winx started to slowly follow her. How would Genevieve know what was going on? She hadn’t been there when that maniac was flying down to finish what he had started. However, she was now shouting at the men to stop fighting and hurrying over to break them up, a fiery ball of anger.
Winx arrived just in time to see Genevieve hopping over the tree trunk. She threw herself into the fray without hesitation.
A loud, low battle roar echoed in the clearing.
Another lixyn, a giant ball of a man, crashed into the fight and took Keaton with him. The Bandit let out a shout of shock as he was dragged away.
“Keaton!” Winx started to walk toward them, but collapsed.
Keaton was entangled in a fully-fledged war of fists, claws, and a bit of teeth. It was only when Genevieve tugged the original lixyn back did Winx truly see who’d been dive-bombing her.
It was London Iragall. He wasn’t dressed in his normal suit and tie, but was a lot more casual in breathable slacks and a black t-shirt. His hair was disheveled from the fray, but he was quickly remedying that with nimble plays of his fingers.
“Really! Is that kind of behavior necessary?” His voice was roughened from the wrestling but posh nonetheless.
“My apologies, Chancellor.” Genevieve demurely helped him dust off. “We’re all a bit on edge. I mean, if you couldn’t tell by Stori’s attack, you could definitely tell by this one…”
“Roy! That’s quite enough!” London shouted at his protector, who stood upon being addressed. He was holding Keaton at least three inches off of the ground, and the Bandit was livid about it.
“You?” Keaton finally noticed who was there. “What is he doing here?”
“You know him?” Winx asked with clenched teeth. Keaton reddened at the question as Roy finally let him down. She rounded on Genevieve. “What is he doing here?”
“I am here to help.” London drew himself up regally. “I was suspicious of the activities carrying on in this sector for quite some time. But when I knew that you were headed this way and there was no word from any of the authorities about it, well…”
“You’ve been tracking me?” Winx took a step back.
“Not so much tracking as monitoring. You are the responsibility of the Queendom—”
“Don’t you dare pretend that the Chancellors care—”
Genevieve screamed louder than anyone had ever heard her before. “Winx!” Quiet resounded about them as it pierced the air, then echoed. She waited until silence fell before speaking again. “London already knows about Chavez going rogue. He’s been keeping an eye on his activities for a while, but never had enough evidence to advance on him. That all changed with you.”
“You think we should trust him?” The daevor was appalled by the notion. “Any of them?”
Genevieve held a hand in the air. “You trust me, don’t you? London is the mediator. Orion is my uncle and head of the Order. The only one who has done something wrong here is Chavez!”
“I’m with Winx on this one.” Keaton was still out of breath and backing away from the still angry Roy. “We’re supposed to believe that you had no idea what your cohort was up to?”
“We each run our districts differently. None usually interfere with our methods. As far as we knew, Esteban was following protocol just fine. I realize now that was a mistake to assume. The press on this…well…it will not be good.”
Winx curled her lip back in disgust. “You’re worried about image more than the slaves?”
Keaton looked around, changing he subject abruptly. “Where is my cousin? And Tipping?”
“Stori went ahead to look for the pack. London was crafty enough to relocate them,” Genevieve said.
Keaton frowned. “Ottanu agreed to that?”
“She didn’t have a choice,” London explained. “Once you left the savage problem… increased. There were many deaths.”
That hit Keaton hard. His face went stony with shock before he sunk to his haunches, low to the ground. “They were attacked?”
“Multiple times. The pack was able to move quick enough to prevent some casualties, but the losses were still devastating. My forces and I had to step in.”
Keaton hung his head in shame. A shudder ran through him. Winx stared at Iragall, as if judging his truth on the matter.
“He’s not lying,” Genevieve replied sadly. “I saw the campsite. It was unrecognizable.”
“And the fiends?” Winx asked.
“Eradicated by my forces,” London said proudly. “I just wish we had gotten here sooner.”
“Don’t focus on the loss,” Genevieve tried to comfort Keaton. She walked over to him, a supporting hand reaching out. “The majority are safe. There was always danger present, you cannot blame yourself for—”
He didn’t wait for her to get there. Keaton hopped back to his feet, a vicious growl emitted from his throat. The look he gave Genevieve stopped her in her tracks.
“You dare try to justify our absence? Winx was beaten to the point of unconsciousness! My family has been ravaged! And you cannot even tell me the names of those who were lost!” He looked at both of the lixyns. “Ottanu was right. I should never have gone anywhere with you.”
He stormed off into the trees, white swirls of mist falling in his wake. Winx watched him go with a mix of concern and aggravation.
“Well, this will not do.” London sighed, watching Roy as he approached him. “My lady, we cannot stay here. Chavez is gearing up for a war. We cannot contact him. And at this point, he knows what side we are on. He’s been communicating less and less with the Order for almost a year now. “
“And yet, you did not see this as a concern?” Genevieve, surprisingly, had a measure of authority to her tone.
“Our priorities were always for our own. Even if Esteban has been a hot head, he’s always followed the code. Well. Until now. We did not anticipate this madness.”
“And now that we are at this point, will I finally be admitted to the Goddess?” Genevieve countered. “All of your protective measures have gotten us nowhere!”
London actually looked a tad nervous. “That is up to your mother, my lady. It has always been her call.”
Genevieve huffed slightly, indignation flowing out of her. “Very well. I suppose we should head on then. You took the pack where exactly?”
“I have them heading toward Seattle, with very specific checkpoints along the way. My forces are the best in the Order. You have no need to fear for them, they are quite safe.”
Genevieve addressed the quiet Winx. “We’re obviously going to be using your car for a bit longer. Unless you have a better idea.”
“That seems the wisest way to catch up with them,” London agreed.
Winx wanted to disagree. She wanted to tell the both of them to fly off instead, to leave her and Keaton alone. But the fact of the matter was, she had no choice but to agree with them. Keaton couldn’t drive that far on his own, and with her current injured state, she couldn’t drive at all. They would be exposed and easy prey for Chavez and whatever throng he had on his side. Logic was kicking her hesitation in the ass. As much as she did not want Iragall anywhere near her, it wasn’t as if she was hotfooting it on her own anytime soon.
“Let me find Keaton,” she muttered. “Then we can sort it out from the
re.”
“Sort it out?” Genevieve glared. “We do not have time for this.”
“Just give him a moment. He deserves that much.”
THE FOREST FLOOR CRUNCHED AND cracked beneath her feet as Winx hiked along in search of Keaton. The walk was difficult. The cold buried itself through the fabric of her flimsy jacket and poured into her bones. Her head pounded with a headache, a sheen of water blurred her vision caused by the biting breezes.
She searched into her pocket for a pain pill but came up empty, her fingers clutching nothing but lint as her feet squelched in the ice.
Even though her shoes were soaked from melted snow, she kept on walking until she found Keaton. He was knelt beside a tree, leaning heavily against it. His head was bowed and even from the distance she could hear slight sniffling.
It was rushing back to her. The reason she was running from the Order in the first place. Family. Family was important. The first people you meet, and hopefully the last ones you’ll see on your deathbed. She, probably more than anyone there at the moment, knew what he was suffering. The worst was, he didn’t even know who had died yet.
Kneeling beside him, she put a comforting arm around his shoulders. He didn’t acknowledge her. A curtain of dark hair hid his expression. All she could hear was the hitch in his breath and an occasional pat of Winx’s hand to his back.
The afternoon sun was preparing for its decent from the hazy sky. The clouds chose their moment to silently drop a fresh batch of gentle snowflakes that they’d been barely holding back.
Somewhere in the distance, the creek could be heard. Other than that, there were no signs of life. No music from the once alive and vibrant campsite. No birds or critters of any kind. The once vivid, life filled home now held death in its place. And the icy grip of a long, wretched winter.
The comrades stayed there until the time to leave was undeniable. The emotions which had gotten the better of them were under control. For the time being.
When they walked away from the forest they did not touch, but their connection was present within them. Leaving wiser and stronger, yet also weaker, into the unknown.
There was no going back.
KILLED BY DARKNESS
A Befallen Tides Short
WINX AND DEJA Rowan walked along the pretty beach in front of their home. The summer heat was morbidly humid, but the two of them barely noticed. The sisters had their pinkies hooked together and swung their arms. As they neared the shore, their bronze skin danced with reflections of the sunlight on the water.
They had their leathery wings unfurled to catch the breeze, and their trailing tails left furrows in the sand. It was forbidden for daevors to reveal themselves around humans, but the beach was desolate. There was nobody around to see.
Deja began to sing about wanting to hold her sister’s hand like the Beatles’ song. She didn’t have that great of a singing voice.
Winx rolled her eyes and released Deja. “You dork. Aren’t you going to miss all of this? I mean, New York doesn’t have sea shells.”
“It won’t be so bad.” Deja sat down onto the sand, her toes just within reach of the tepid swells. She folded her wings back and curled her tail around her legs. “The agency set me up nicely. I’ll be traveling all over the states, and possibly overseas on occasion. New York will just be a place to hang my hat.”
Winx gazed at the crystal blue waves lapping her feet. Her long dreadlocks fell over her face in a cascade of knots. “I still can’t believe you’re really going.”
“Believe it, snot-nose. I’m all packed up,” Deja said.
The younger sister’s face wrinkled from the familiar term, which was an endearment mingled with childish insult. “I noticed.”
There were only a few options for cryptids to live on their own among human society. Some organizations placed daevors and lixyns on certain career paths for those with the touch, mostly in positions of support. Didn’t want a human plumber fixing your toilet? Well, phone one of the agencies, and they would send a certified professional who wouldn’t be surprised if you answered the door with your wings unfurled.
Deja was off to do something with consulting. She would travel all over to counsel wayward cryptids who didn’t know what to do with their lives. Cryptids like Wynx.
“I’ve already told you—you can visit whenever mom and dad say it’s okay. And once you’re twenty-five, then you’ll be eligible to join the agency as well. I’ll be a higher up by then, so I can easily get you a job as my lackey.” Deja’s smile went evil at the thought. Her short curls were ruffled by the breeze.
Winx dropped to the sand beside her. “But I won’t be eligible for another five years. What are you going to do in that time? I mean, who’s going to look out for you?”
They quieted as Winx’s concern floated between them. Despite the age difference, the two were incredibly close. Inseparable. It would be the first time that they had been apart for any length of time. Though Deja pretended to be annoyed by her younger sister, the truth was they wouldn’t know what to do without one another. Come the end of the week, Deja would be a world away, and Winx would be left to her own devices.
“You have to try not to worry about me, all right?” Deja patted her sister’s hand. “It’s not like I won’t be safe.”
“You’ll be in a world of different people. A world full of human people.”
“We all need to spread our wings. One day, you will too, whether you choose to do it in our colony or the world of humans. We all have destinies to seek.” Her voice softened. “This is my time, Winx. I don’t get a second chance to grow up.”
“Sure. Make it sound all drastic. It isn’t like we’re sheltered here!”
“You are a total buzz kill, Winx. I don’t know where you got it from. It definitely wasn’t from me. I mean, you’re the only serious demon I’ve ever met—”
“Daevor,” she corrected for the millionth time. “Just tell me that you’ll keep in touch. Phone calls. Letters. Emails. Texts. I don’t care. I need to know where you are and who you’re seeing or I’ll go nuts.”
“I’m going to be pretty busy, kiddo. This is a job after all. Not to mention my free time, which will be all to myself. I’m going to want to go dancing and hiking and exploring…”
“Promise.”
“I’m a big girl, snot.”
“Promise, Deja.”
“Okay, okay. I promise.”
A YEAR LATER.
THE ROWANS KNEW that something was wrong when Deja didn’t call for five days. For months, she had kept her promise and never went longer than a day without calling her baby sister. On the rare occasions she forgot, Winx would pester Deja until she got something—anything—in response. But she hadn’t heard a word.
They tried to contact the agency for information, but no one had seen or heard from her in a week—not since she had left for a trip to Ohio.
So they contacted the Dayton authorities. No news about a Deja Rowan.
A missing person report was filed. A search. A red alert.
No news for two weeks.
When the silence finally broke, it was as bad as predicted.
Deja Rowan’s body was found in the Mad River by an Ohio resident. As soon as she was discovered, the humans were taken out of the case entirely.
The lixyn authority took over from there.
Winx grieved for weeks without leaving her room, barely eating or sleeping for endless hours. She fought fevers from her grief. Her parents attempted to assure her that Deja’s murderers would be found, that once they were the lixyns would deal with the humans themselves. The lixyns were prosecutors for all creatures such as they, and they were equal parts merciless and frightening.
But when the lixyns discovered who did it, things got complicated. It was incredibly rare for one with the touch to be the victim, not the murderer.
How were they to proceed punishing five human men without revealing their powers?
The lixyns tried to comfort the
Rowan clan by letting the daevors know that the case was being treated seriously, yet delicately.
They sat on it for too long. Far, far too long.
So the most serious daevor took over.
THE SLEEPY COMMUNITY of McPherson, Ohio wasn’t too used to the likes of the Black Hearts Gang—or any gang, for that matter. So when the neighborhood watch saw five men of indeterminable race walking close together, their clothing hanging off of slender frames, jewelry glinting in the fading sunlight and tattoos littering what skin was exposed, they made sure their doors were locked and their curtains drawn closed. Some kept a wary eye on them from between their blinds.
The men seemed to have no destination at first. They hung around a stop sign, smoking cigarettes and speaking to one another, stomping used butts into the pavement until the filters disappeared. Then they would walk another block. Everyone who lost sight of them would become momentarily frustrated, wanting to know where the possible culprits were going. But as soon as they lost sight of them, the inhabitants would struggle to remember what it was they were doing at the window, and draw the shades with a perplexed shake of their heads.
This repeated throughout eight or so blocks. The men would saunter past, and the people would watch them avidly, suddenly lose interest, and then avoid their windows for the remainder of the evening. Any sights or sounds would be of little consequence to them for the duration of their nightly routines, and most of them would fall asleep early to bad prime-time television.
All the while, the men were slowly followed by a mere shadow in the grass. Nobody noticed or acknowledged it.
“Are you sure they’re not home?” Manny asked Arn.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I already told you. She updated her status that her flight got canceled. They’re going to be in Georgia for at least one more day.”
Matt laughed loudly. “I still can’t believe you want to kick it at your grandmother’s house, dude.”
Arn pushed him. “Where else are we going to get some bitches together, man? Your momma’s basement?”