Singing Fire

by T. L. Martin

  “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  “I’m fine,” she replied, though I detected a quiver in her voice. She was quick to cover it up. “It’s just...I haven’t talked to anyone about this in a long time.”

  I could already tell this story had an unfortunate ending, and I felt guilty for stirring it all up again. Not everything needs to be shared.

  “Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t have to say any more.”

  “No,” Quinn said, her words clipped. “You were right. If you’re going to be putting your life in his filthy hands, you need to know. Besides, you opened up to me earlier, right? It’s only fair.”

  Her determination, and hostility, was evident. I patiently waited until she was ready to continue.

  “Imogen’s mom had been sick for a long time by that point,” she began. “Terminal lung cancer. She was in her final days. But Imogen, a witch like me, refused to believe nothing could be done. She begged Priscilla, and anyone else who would listen, to heal her mom. But it doesn’t work that way. No matter how powerful the witch, no matter how much of an expert healer, you can’t use magic to revert an illness like that. You can slow it down a little, sure. But anything beyond that…? Believe me, I know.”

  Quinn paused and placed the necklace around her neck, tucking it back beneath her shirt once more.

  “Well, one day Imogen heard rumors of a powerful healer in Rogue Valley who had supposedly cured someone of cancer. She insisted on driving out to meet this woman and begged me and Gav to go with her. Of course, I refused. It was way too dangerous, so I told her to stay. But I knew she’d go anyway. That was Imogen, you know. She would do anything it took to help the people she loved.”

  Quinn, whose frustration was quickly deepening from the memory alone, rose agitatedly from the sofa. She paced the living room as she spoke.

  “Gav suggested he go with her to see if he could convince her to change her mind, and I thought it was a good idea at the time. They were on their way there when they spotted the fire. They pulled over to see if they could help, but by the time they realized they were in the dead center of a savage brawl—and one with witches as the target—it was too late. Most of those involved fled soon after, but Anastasie and Desmond were both there. They saw them trapped inside the flames and smoke. But they just stood there, watching them scream. Watching them burn. They could have easily saved them and, instead, they left them to die.”

  I sat silent in my seat, too stunned to speak. How could they do that?

  “To make things worse,” she continued, stopping to linger by the window as her eyes averted to the stars once more. “I was dedicating so much of my time to spell training that I hardly saw either of them during that last year. It was always practice that came before everything, even the people who mattered most. I just wish I could have had more time with them.”

  “Quinn...I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry,” I said gently. Desmond was a far cry from the warm and fuzzy type, but I found it hard to believe he would just stand there, watching, while innocent people burned.

  “Are you sure that’s how it happened?” I asked.

  “I saw it for myself,” she answered bitterly, turning to look at me with a sharp shift of her head. “The final moments, at least. When I found them, Desmond was still there. I demanded that he tell me what happened, and...well, be careful what you ask for. Right?”

  My stomach churned at the despicable thought. Words straight from his own mouth? I examined Quinn for any trace of doubt, any possibility that her story was flawed...but there was none to be found.

  “Does Priscilla know about this?”

  Quinn shook her head. “Not all the details. Sometimes I think I should tell her. But she’s so passionate about this whole Unity Movement thing—bringing each species together. She’s dedicated herself to the cause for as long as she’s raised me, and it’s finally gaining momentum. It would break her heart.”

  My voice sounded as incredulous as I felt. “I just...I can’t believe it.”

  Quinn returned to her spot on the sofa beside me, her eyes both grim and intent.

  “Well, believe it. You saw him tonight...” she reminded me, and I glanced down at the intense and horrifying image. “That, exactly what you saw, is the real Desmond. The one I saw on that day. Don’t let his looks, or brooding charm, or whatever it is he uses, fool you, Charlie. You’ll be with him a lot, and you need to remember—your life depends on you remembering—this one simple fact: vampires are hunters, and we are their prey. Anything that makes you wonder otherwise is only part of the design. A clever trick to lure you in. Even when he appears to be helping you.” She leaned in slightly, her voice barely a whisper. “Do not let your guard down.”

  I remained quiet, unsure of how to respond; how to feel. I had thought before that I’d glimpsed something in him, some form of humanity beneath it all. Could it all have been a ruse? It wouldn’t be the first time my instincts had betrayed me. In many ways, I realized, her words made sense. I had already been wondering for myself what his true motives were behind protecting me. And seeing him tonight...the impossible darkness in his eyes, those blood stained fangs...how could I even doubt the accuracy of her words after witnessing such a thing?

  “I need to learn how to protect myself,” I finally murmured, thinking out loud. “I don’t want to need him—or anyone else.”

  Quinn stood once more, giving me an approving nod. “Then you’d better get rested. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  With that, she turned on her heel, heading for the stairwell, until she seemed to realize I wasn’t following.

  “You coming?” she asked, pausing to peer over at me.

  “Hmm? Oh, I’ll be up soon.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Okay.”

  I stayed in place, staring straight through the wall as her footsteps padded away. Just when I had thought I could see the light in the bleakness of my situation, just when I’d thought I was ready to comprehend this world and that maybe I could even handle it...I was sent kicking and screaming right back to the beginning. There was so much I didn’t understand. More than that, there was so much I no longer wanted to understand.

  I rubbed my eyes. They were begging for me to close them, and, eventually, I was too exhausted to fight back.

  “Charlie.” A distant voice rang softly in my ears. “Rise and shine, Charlie.”

  I slowly opened my eyes, seeing Pixie’s bobbing red curls and wide smile inches from my face.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” she greeted affectionately. “Just wanted to say bye before I take off.”

  “Bye?” I sat up, taking a minute to gather my surroundings. I was still in the living room. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. “Where are you going?” I mumbled, squinting my eyes to bring her into focus.

  “My training session starts in twenty minutes,” she answered, nodding her head toward the clock fixed on the wall. “Yours starts right after, though. So you might wanna get up.”

  I grumbled in reluctant acknowledgement. I was still painfully indecisive, unable to move from my safe, warm seat. What was I supposed to do? Suppress the fear still bubbling inside of me and man up, pretending I was ready for whatever was to come? Or flee and see how long I could outrun my supposed destiny?

  “Hey,” Pixie said. She’d softened her tone and looked unusually serious in comparison to her typical nature. “Are you okay?”

  A snort-like chuckle escaped, as though the answer to that was obvious. “Are you?” I asked gently. “I wasn’t the only one there.”

  She paused for a moment. “Right,” she murmured, and we both understood.

  Neither of us were okay. But we were here, and this was the world we lived in. Time goes on.

  “All right.” Quinn ambled into the living room with one mug in her hand and a banana in the other. “Coffee,” she muttered, handing the hot mug to me. “And a five-star breakfast.”

  When Pixie didn’t immediately take th
e fruit, Quinn looked blankly from her to me and back again. “What is it?”

  Pixie shook her head, seemingly trying to shake the memory away. “Nothing.” She offered one of her vibrant smiles and snatched the banana from Quinn, before bouncing up from beside me. “Aw. Thanks. You really outdid yourself.”

  Quinn smirked just as Pixie headed toward the front door. “See you guys soon,” she called through the doorway.

  Quinn followed, bolting the locks behind Pixie. I forced my legs to stand and, wobbling over to the kitchen, I checked the machine. No voicemails. Where in the world was Ray?

  “Expecting a call?” Quinn asked as she appeared beside me.

  “Kind of,” I mumbled, giving the clock another glance. “Guess I should get ready.”

  She watched me quietly for a moment. I had a feeling my nervousness was evident.

  “Everything will be fine,” she said.

  “I wish I could be so sure.”

  I turned away, heading up the stairs. I could tell she was still watching me, but I didn’t pause. I knew if I delayed my actions any further, I might just find myself in a ball beneath my blankets once more. Or worse: dumb enough to actually try and flee.

  I showered and dressed within minutes, anxious to get my first training experience over with. We exited the house without a word. Once we made it to Old Town, its peaceful tone a contrast to the energy wound up within me, Quinn pulled open the tea shop’s heavy door. Matt was in the middle of ringing up a couple’s order when he looked up at us and flashed his smooth smile.

  “Well, if it isn’t two of my favorite people.”

  Quinn’s lip twitched as she rolled her eyes. “Every female is your favorite person.”

  “Not true.” He wrapped a napkin over a fresh croissant and handed it to the man with balding hair standing before him. “Mr. Collins is one of my favorite people, too.”

  Mr. Collins chuckled as he bit into the croissant and gently nudged the full-figured woman beside him. “You’ll have to try your charm on the missus if you’re hoping to get a tip out of that.”

  Mrs. Collins blushed and waved a hand through the air. “Oh hush, Teddy. He knows I’ll tip him anyway,” she added with a wink.

  The pair exited the shop with their pastries in hand and jovial parting waves.

  “You can head on in,” Matt said, nodding his head in the direction of the supply closet.

  “Oh. Right now?” I asked.

  I swallowed. I still had no idea how this supernatural world actually worked or what I was in for, and the unknown was doing a pretty good job of terrifying me.

  Quinn gave me a slight nudge.

  “Trust me,” she said. “You won’t be sorry.”

  Despite knowing it needed to be done, I couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. This may be my last chance to walk away. Once I entered that room, there would be no going back.

  Taking a slow, deep breath of air, I finally took the first step forward.

  CHAPTER NINE: TRAINING

  If it wasn’t for the familiar chandelier and the fireplace at the opposite wall, I would hardly have recognized the room at all. Thin green vines crawled up the walls, so full of life I could almost swear they were moving right before my eyes. Priscilla and Pixie sat beside each other on the floor with their eyes closed, legs crossed, and arms draped over their thighs in a way that reminded me of meditation. The flowers circling the pair of them were positively enchanting—from shades of a stormy blue or cheerful yellow, to a calming ivory laced with white and cream—and sat in individual planters, keeping them fresh and vibrant.

  “Good morning, dear.” Priscilla’s voice rang clearly throughout the room though her eyes remained shut. “Please, take a seat.”

  I scanned the foliage-filled room, wondering where I was expected to sit. The only chairs were located along the opposite wall. Following their example, I lowered myself across from Pixie, forming a triangle between the three of us. After a painstakingly slow minute, Priscilla opened her eyes.

  “Bachelor’s button,” she said softly, following my gaze to a blue flower beautifully layered with soft strokes of white along its petals and a wild circle of purple bursting within the center. “Fascinating, isn’t it, that such a small thing can represent so much hope?”

  “Is that how this works?” I asked, already intrigued. “You use nature in your magic?”

  Pixie’s eyes were still closed, and she seemed to be in her own world.

  “Depends on who you ask,” Priscilla replied, watching Pixie with me. “There are many different kinds of witches. Each has their own means of connecting to the world around them and enhancing their abilities. Some use dreams, the weather, or the elements… Pixie here is a healer, which requires nature-based magic. She was born with a strong bond to the earth. Pixie aides in nature’s growth and livelihood, and, in return, nature provides her with a strength she cannot otherwise obtain. It is an inherent balance, you see.”

  Looking closer at the vines along the walls, I could see that they were, in fact, growing before my eyes. When I followed the green plants to their base, I noticed how they each stemmed from the same vicinity—a small space directly in front of where Pixie sat. She was, quite literally, giving them life.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, mesmerized by the enchanting sight.

  Priscilla smiled, nodding her head in agreement. “Strengthening our bond with the world around us is always a marvelous thing to see.”

  “So each flower serves a purpose?” I asked. The notion was fascinating.

  “Indeed.” Priscilla gestured toward the flowers, pointing each out as she spoke. “Here, she’s chosen the fennel for strength; the Columbine flower, for never giving up; the cissus, aiding in the process of change; the lovely tuberose for purity of mind; and, of course, the Bachelor’s Button, for hope. It’s up to each individual healer and plant to decide which would work best with whom in their healing sessions, and these are the five that have been assisting Pixie for a while now. They seem to work quite well together.”

  I watched the room dance in streaks of green, blue, yellow, and all the colors in between. Pixie was at its core, appearing like a red-haired goddess in the heart of her element, and I couldn’t help but wonder what purpose I could possibly serve here. I felt no particular connection with nature, no bond to the earth, and as useless as could be. What could I have to offer to the beautiful experience happening before me?

  “Today,” Priscilla uttered, rising from beside me, “we observe. We learn. We participate in this world you are now one with.”

  With her loose, patterned dress brushing lightly on the floor with each movement, Priscilla sauntered to the far left corner of the room. She knelt beside the fireplace and reached into a white basket I hadn’t noticed before. When she rose to her feet and turned toward me, she was cradling a tiny bundle in her arms, in much the same way a mother might hold her infant.

  I leaned in for a closer look as she approached me and was greeted by a limp, brown and red, furry face with oversized ears drooping beside a pair of black eyes. The puppy was wrapped in a soft white blanket but did not seem consoled by the comfort it had to offer.

  “Poor guy,” I whispered, lightly stroking its smooth ears. “What happened to him? Or her?”

  Carefully, Priscilla lifted a corner of the blanket and revealed a line of white bandages pressed against the middle of its stomach.

  “It’s a boy. He snuck out of his house yesterday afternoon and got into a pretty nasty fight with a fully grown dog. His owner, a demon, rushed him to Emergency Care the moment she found him, but he had already caught an infection from the wounds, and it is spreading far too quickly.”

  Once again, I peeked over at Pixie, whose eyes remained closed as flowers danced around her.

  “The little guy wasn’t initially part of our syllabus, but his owner contacted Pixie early this morning,” Priscilla continued, more quietly this time so as not to disturb Pixie. “That
is where you come in.”

  “Can’t she do this on her own, though? I mean, she healed me.”

  Priscilla nodded her head. “She can. But practicing your gift will allow you to learn more about it, learn how to use it, and learn how to control it. And, perhaps most importantly, how to prevent others from controlling you with it. You’re already synced with her, so it’s time you see just how your bond can affect someone else’s magic. And yourself.”

  I examined the small, fragile puppy before me. He whimpered softly, and I felt a pang in my heart for him. “What do you need me to do?”

  Suddenly, Pixie’s eyes popped open, and she flashed her vivacious smile upon the sight of me. “Charlie. You’re here.”

  I returned the smile, feeling the warmth of her contagious energy wrap itself around me.

  Priscilla closed the space between them and lowered the puppy into Pixie’s arms, who tucked the blanket around his furry body and set him gently within the center of our triangle. She pressed a hand to the animal’s forehead for a few moments, sorrow reflecting in her eyes.

  “Let us begin,” Priscilla stated.

  She retreated to the opposite end of the room, taking a seat in one of the chairs. Pixie took my hands in hers, our arms forming an oval ring above the puppy.

  “Close your eyes,” Pixie whispered as her own eyes closed.

  I did as instructed, and the room around me went black. Pixie’s hands felt cool and delicate in mine, and I wondered what was happening in front of me. What was I supposed to be doing? Shouldn’t I at least be able to sense something? It seemed like at least several minutes passed by without any sense of change. I could still hear the puppy whimpering and couldn’t help but feel useless just sitting there.

  “You need to close your mind, Charlie.” Priscilla’s voice came softly from the other side of the room. “Stop thinking, and allow yourself to feel.”

  I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding and tried to relax. I counted each breath in an attempt to slow its pace, much in the same way I would during panic attacks. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I listened to the tranquil silence around me and felt the tension in my muscles begin to gradually ease. The distant aroma of soil, flowers, and nature drew themselves in toward me, caressing my skin and hair with the soothing strokes of a lullaby. The tips of my fingers grew impossibly sensitive to the touch of her skin, generating a tingling, electric-like sensation that bounced between our hands. Slowly, the smooth vibration traveled up my arms and down my spine, thickly spreading across the length of my body with the natural ease of a warm, buttery syrup.