by J. R. King
Ariahna took his wrist, guiding him over to the door. “You’re going to do it,” she said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She regarded him kindly. “It’s an excellent idea. And do you want to know why? Because you’re going to have to get comfortable confronting things that you’re afraid of. Especially if you want to survive Vardel.”
Rome chuckled. “And they told me Lincoln was rough.”
She slid her palm over the back of his hand, curling their fingers under the cool metal. “It’s simple. Feel your connection to the car. Then feel the energy in your body. And once you’re aware of both, you just—” The lock clicked heavily in the door, and she grinned up at him. “—visualize what you want.”
Rome was visualizing what he wanted, but it had nothing to do with the car, and everything to do with her. The soft glow of the streetlights danced over her ruby red hair, painting the illusion that flames were framing her face. There was something so mysterious in those eyes – alluring and free. Whatever it was, it was rendering him unable to breathe. She withdrew suddenly, pulling away from his touch as another car sailed into the parking space beside them. The window rolled down smoothly, and Rome sighed at the guy staring back.
“Why didn’t you call?” Dallas said. He climbed out of the beamer, shooting a quick glance at Rome over the top of his car.
Ariahna frowned. “I was busy.”
“You mean you forgot.”
“No,” she said. Her mouth twitched traitorously.
“I was waiting for over half an hour. I thought the crazy storeowner might have kidnapped you. But I’m glad to see you’re just fine.”
Rome observed them as they spoke. He realized now one of the places he had seen Dallas before. He’d been with her from time to time, at La Lune. Between that and their bickering, it was difficult to get a read on their relationship. He spoke up after a moment, interrupting them. “I understand if you have other plans,” he said. “I realize now you never did say.”
“Oh,” Aria said. She glanced back at Dallas. “We were actually going to get something to eat I think, so… sorry I made you wait but you don’t have to give me a ride back.”
He scoffed loudly. “Are you insane? Your dad would kill me if I let you get into a car with the criminal element over there.”
Aria gave Dallas a frosty stare. “You’re being rude.”
“It’s okay,” Rome said.
“No,” Dallas said, “it’s not. Aria, get in the car and I’ll take you back to school. I’m not asking right now.”
Rome stepped away from his door, staring at Dallas challengingly. He leaned an arm on the polished red paint, reveling in the look on his face. “You know what your biggest shortcoming is?” he said. “Overconfidence. You think you’re so damn scary. You’re not.”
“Do you see what I’m talking about?” Dallas said. “He’s threatening me now. Here, I’ll make this easy for you.” Dallas pulled his phone out, dialing a number before turning it to flash her the screen. “You can ride with me, or you can ride home with your dad. Get in the car or I make the call.”
Ariahna crossed her arms, offering Dallas a stubborn stare. After a second, he hit the call button. She hesitated for a breath.
“It’s ringing…”
She moved to snatch the phone from his hand, hanging it up just as her father’s voice crackled through the speaker. “You know Dallas, sometimes, I really hate you.”
“You’re welcome. You can thank me later.”
Dallas closed the door as she got in, circling back around the car and getting into the driver’s seat. He pulled away from the curb, watching Rome’s disbelief from his rearview mirror. After they’d gotten some distance, he decided to speak again.
“Why were you even hanging out with that guy?”
“I ran into him. I was trying to be nice.”
He darted a quick glance at her. “Why?”
Aria exhaled. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.”
“No,” she said. “I really think you don’t.” Ariahna turned in her seat, fixing him with a razor sharp stare. “My father warned me about him. He told me that the Navarros were the worst kind of witches. I think he’s hiding something from me, and I was trying to find out what.”
The steering wheel turned in his hands and Dallas looked across the car at the girl sitting beside him. “Are you saying you were grilling him?” He couldn’t believe he was suggesting it.
“No,” Aria said. “I was just trying to get to know him.”
“Right. Would you like your flowers before or after you die? Because Richard is going to end you when he finds out.”
“That’s why he’s not going to find out,” she said. “I can count on you, can’t I Dallas? Or maybe I should call up Lisa and let her know you’re ‘back in town’. I’m sure she’d love to get ahold of you…”
Dallas’ face went stony. “You have my silence.”
Chapter Seven
Inauspicious Beginnings
Rome stirred as daylight shone above the treetops, peeking through the curtains and over the hardwood. The grounds were still, allowing a surreal feeling to overtake him. His bare feet touched the floor, and he paused to listen to the sound of birds chirping just outside his window. It was barely six am when he drew the curtains back, watching the sun rise in the distance. It was only the second day, but at least now he had a reason to be here – several, in fact.
The morning proved brisk when he stepped outside. Rome darted towards the forest, disappearing into the trees. He jogged down the path that encompassed the school, stretching five miles in its entirety. Twigs and leaves crunched under the weight of his steps, carrying him back to Vardel in nearly record time.
He showered, got dressed and grabbed an apple on his way out to the parking lot. The bathrooms had been a little crowded, but other than that, there wasn’t much to complain about. At least not until he saw the bus full of rowdy freshmen (and Shawn posted at the front).
“Please tell me I can take my car.”
“Depends,” Shawn said. “Can I trust you not to skip?”
Rome opened his mouth, pausing when he spotted Ariahna on the bus. “You can trust her…” He watched Shawn climb through the door and pause to address her. Her eyes were filled with gratitude when she turned to face him.
“Good morning,” Ariahna said.
Rome smiled, watching her step off the bus. “Morning.”
“Shawn said you needed a guide to get to the museum?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way,” he said. “But I suppose he’s right. I don’t actually know where I’m going.”
They left the busses behind, heading for the packed parking lot. Rome weaved through the glossy imports, ignoring the spiteful urge to key Dallas’ beamer as they passed. Ariahna was leading them further down the lane, unable to spot the thing that didn’t belong.
“Where’s your car?” She turned to find him leaning against the front fender, an amused expression on his face.
“What,” he said, “it didn’t stand out enough?”
She tugged on her sleeve nervously, watching him move to open the door. Aria stood beside the old maroon car, staring at the glass panels on the roof in bemusement. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it last night. The car was in worse shape than she’d thought. It was several shades of red and gray, and a few exterior pieces seemed to be either suspect or damaged. The frame of the car dipped as he slid into the driver’s seat.
Rome rolled down the window. “I know it’s not fancy,” he said, “but it’s mine. What you’re looking at is just cosmetic.”
Aria opened the passenger door. “I trust you,” she said.
Rome smiled at that. “Careful, I’ve been known to threaten people.” He turned the key in the ignition, noting her entertainment. They took off before the fleet of busses, curving steadily down the winding road. “I’d pu
t some music on, but…”
She glanced at the gap in his dash. “That’s alright. We’ll have more time to talk this way.” As soon as she said it, the cab of the car went completely quiet. That’s when she heard it (a sloshing sound, coming from the back of the vehicle).
“What is that?”
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure…”
Rome pressed his lips tight, embarrassed and unwilling to explain. Her worried silence forced the issue. “It’s rain water.”
“Oh.”
They came upon the highway as the hillside devoured the distant sight of the school. Rome hung his elbow out the window. “So where exactly is this place?” he asked. “I’m assuming it’s hidden.”
“Not as much as you might suspect. Just head into town,” she said. “I think I can give you better directions from there.”
Rome nodded, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. The apple he’d grabbed for breakfast rolled out of his lap around a curve, quickly finding its way into Ariahna’s hands. “You can have it, if you want.” He noted the strange smile on her face. “What?”
Aria gazed out the window. “It’s nothing.” When she turned her attention back to the boy beside her, his stare was persistent. She shook her head. “I suppose it just reminded me of an old story.”
“One you’d like to tell?”
“Not particularly… It’s a bedtime story my father told me once, about what happens to naughty children.” She smoothed her fingers over the skin of the apple. “Supposedly, there was a quiet town that sat alone near a dark, desolate wood. The woods were home to a witch; a crone, shunned by the villagers for her cruelty. She was no healer or soothsayer, but a practitioner of dark crafts that made the men and women whisper fearful things in the night. Her name, or at least the name they knew her by, was Darva.”
Rome looked up at her, watching her lips curl contentedly as she spoke. “A story about a big bad witch told to little witches?” He laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think that would have scared me if I’d grown up like you.”
“It’s not quite that simple,” she said. “Darva, though no friend to the village or its inhabitants, relied on offerings from the people to keep herself alive. She traveled into the town often, collecting food and supplies from those who were smart enough to realize it afforded them peace. But one day, a little boy who knew nothing of her reputation decided to test the witch. He knocked the basket straight from her hands as she was leaving his house, shocking his parents, who pleaded for her forgiveness.”
“What happened then, did she turn him into a frog?”
Aria’s eyes shifted to him, stilling as the smile disappeared from his face. “She left the town, heading for her home as she did after every voyage. She let a child behave as children do, and forgot the incident entirely.”
His frown was so deep he could feel the lines on his forehead. “And then what? That’s clearly not the end… is it?”
She chuckled, setting the glossy fruit in her lap. “The boy thought his parents were fools, offering respect and food from their table to the crooked widow. She’d never done anything in his eyes out of the ordinary, and from the perspective of someone so young, she was just a bitter old hag. He followed her through the trees, coming upon a tiny cottage deep in the forest. But Darva was waiting for him, just inside the home. He’d disobeyed his parents and wandered out after dark, which was the time that the witch worked her unholy rites. The boy had taunted her, followed her to her house, and seen the truly terrible evidence of her craft.”
“So of course he had to die,” Rome said.
Ariahna grinned. “Oh, but the witch was much cleverer than that. She welcomed the boy kindly, quelling his fears with sweets and wine. And though he was frightened, he still thought he might leave her house alive, though with a fantastical story to tell. It was when the sun was nearly risen that she finally conceded to his request to leave, saying she’d deliver him to his parents herself. She grabbed the woven basket from her shelf, cloaking herself and stepping into the morning air.
“They went walking together; the boy pausing to disturb flowers and chase squirrels; the old woman hanging back, observing him from a distance. When they reached the edge of the forest though, there came a fierce howl. The boy, being terrified of wild dogs, turned to the woman in dread. I don’t want to be eaten, he said. To which the witch opened her basket, telling him to hide inside. The boy was distraught, insisting that he’d never fit. Calm yourself, she replied. You’ll fit if I disguise you as an apple instead. I know these woods, and the wolves are my friends. But they will surely eat a little boy, despite my presence, on sight.
“She offered him her hand, and the child took it without thought. As a flash burst through the trees, the boy disappeared, and she raised her arm to the sky, smiling at the apple resting in her palm. It was carefully tucked inside of the basket, carried through the village, and left on the doorstep of the boy’s home; left for his parents to find. Atop the basket, she left a note: One sour apple ruins the bunch.”
Ariahna took a bite of the apple, wiping her mouth when Rome’s eye twitched. “I think another version says she turned the whole village into apples, or at least all of the children… but I like this one best.”
Rome stared out at the road as the last stretch of highway came and went. “You keep surprising me,” he said.
“What exactly do you find surprising?”
Rome glanced at the traffic light, slipping past the intersection on a yellow. “Do you really want to know?” Her eyes said yes, making his entire demeanor shift. “I’m not sure it’s something I can describe, really. It’s the unlikeliness of it all. The fact that we’re even having this conversation. It’s something genuine. I guess I’m not used to that.”
Ariahna fought to conceal her embarrassment as they moved through town. She gave him a few tentative directions, second-guessing herself when they rolled by the yogurt shop for a second time. “Make a left,” she said. “We need to pass the police station.”
“Do you know any street names?” he asked.
She gave him a guilty smile. “I was kind of hoping we’d be following the busses. I don’t usually go into town very much.”
“Well some guide you are,” he said. Rome laughed, shaking his head. “What are we looking for exactly, a building?”
“City Hall.”
“Why are we going there?” he said.
Ariahna didn’t understand his trepidation. “The museum is hidden inside, along with the Witches Collective.”
Rome hummed in reply, slowing as they made the last turn. All he could think about was what Kaleb had left him with; doubt, and a lot of it. For all he knew, he could be walking straight into a trap.
Aria watched his hands tremble.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Yeah… I’m fine.” Rome took a deep breath and killed the engine, quickly climbing out to put change in the meter. He watched Aria follow suit a moment later, a frown still lingering in her eyes. “Places like this just make me nervous,” he said. There was more truth in those words than he cared to admit.
“Don’t worry, we’re just here to look at the exhibits. In fact…” Aria glanced down the street. “It’s probably going to be a little while until everyone gets here. Why don’t we head in now? I can show you around a bit.”
Rome stared reluctantly at the building.
“Or we can wait until they arrive and give you your nametag?” she said.
He grimaced. “I’ll take the private tour.”
Rome followed Ariahna towards the entrance, past stone benches and neatly trimmed shrubbery. He made sure to tighten his tie and tuck in his shirt along the way. The doors opened to a bustling lobby filled with faces he was quite familiar with. He followed through the metal detector, making sure to grab his keys on the other side. “So is there some sort of secret passageway or something?”
Ariahna looked at him in amuse
ment. “Not exactly,” she said. She led him through a short hall, past small offices and courtrooms, before taking a set of stairs that ran down to the lower levels. She stopped when she noticed him hovering near the top of the stairs. “Is everything okay?” Aria said.
“Yeah…” Rome was running his fingers over an etching in the stone. There were several of them actually, carved into pillars on either side of the stairwell. “What are these?” he asked.
Ariahna climbed the few steps separating them, examining the symbols he was referring to. “They’re sigils,” she said. “There are some scattered around Vardel too.”
“What are they for?”
She swept her palm over the carvings, stopping to explain each one. “This is a symbol for protection. This one, invisibility. The last one symbolizes refuge, or shelter.”
Rome hummed in thought. “So there are just some old symbols between everything they want to keep hidden, and the people they want to keep it hidden from? That doesn’t exactly sound safe.”
“The symbols form a spell when cast together. This string keeps anyone non-magical from wandering into places we don’t want them to be. It’s much safer than housing the Collective in a separate building of its own. It draws less attention.”
“I guess you have a point,” he said.
The first sublevel didn’t differ much from the ground floor. Men and women in suits rushed around and sat behind help desks. The hallways looked like they led to more office spaces and courtrooms. They stepped into a lobby, where several dark circles sat outlined on the tile. More halls and stairwells branched out from the room like a maze, and groups were waiting scattered about the space.
“Dr. German,” a woman called. “Lab C is ready for you.”
Rome watched as the man stepped up to one of the circles, glasses hidden in his gray, curling hair. He smoothed out his lab coat, moving into the circle’s center. No sooner had he stepped across the line than the floor began to break away beneath him, merging into a mysterious hole. The man dropped straight through, and Rome stopped abruptly, staring at the place where he’d just stood.