by K W Quinn
“Little more,” Andy grunted through clenched teeth. The wisp became a breath, and the first flame sprang forth. Cass clapped excitedly, but Andy shook his head, still concentrating. A tiny flame wouldn’t be enough to sustain this fire. With no tinder to catch, Andy had to set the whole branch ablaze.
Cass still grinned but leaned forward to let the Air dance through and around the flame, feeding it. It was a delicate balance. Fitting for the equinox. Balancing their natures to work together for the benefit of both.
The sand beneath him felt warm and soft, cradling him and holding him steady while he worked. Cass could feel the water that lived in the air, the water all around him, the sound of the waves crashing at his back. Earth beneath him, Air above, Fire before him, Water behind.
It was mesmerizing, spiritual in a way Cass had never experienced before. He felt connected to all the Elements at once. The legends couldn’t fully explain this feeling, this ringing oneness with the universe, like a glass rubbed just right until it sang.
The bonfire grew steady and strong. Andy’s eyes danced with the reflection of flames. His grimace eased, and he was able to relax his focus and let the fire take on a life of its own. The sun kissed the water, sending shimmering rays across the waves.
Finally, Andy sighed and sat back. “That should keep for a while.”
He adjusted himself on his blanket, scooting around and trying to get comfortable. Cass pretended to ignore the fact that comfortable meant closer to him. It was a peace offering, and he was willing to accept graciously.
“Did you feel it?” Cass whispered.
Andy shivered. “It felt like the fire was gonna eat me alive. It was under my skin and in my bones, and I couldn’t get it out. I was afraid it would bounce out of my hands, set the blanket on fire. Or you.”
“Glad we’re so close to the ocean then,” Cass answered, leaning with his elbow out to nudge Andy. “But did you feel the Earth? The Water?”
Andy shook his head. “No, I felt you and the Air, more than usual, but the Fire was too loud. I didn’t have space to feel anything else.”
Cass grunted. He’d imagined the whole thing, then. He was as weird as everyone said. He watched the fire dance and tried to feel it like he had before, but it was only warmth and light right now. Nothing mystic or strange.
The sand was just sand, gritty and cooling as the sun sank into the ocean. The water still seemed different. Maybe it was the humidity that made it seem like it was just another part of the Air. The waves seemed to come with each breath Cass took, his heart beating in time with the swell of the ocean.
He was weird. Even though his father had probably been a Water, Cass didn’t have the ability. Somewhere back in his family tree, there might have been a nymph, some alluring Water spirit. Kids had called him Fae as a curse, splashed him with water bottles and mud puddles, spit at him and tried to blow him away.
Cass sang,
“Water cries,
Air lies,
Fire fights,
But Earth is right.”
Andy’s nose wrinkled, and he crossed his arms over his knees. “Bloody propaganda.”
“We all sang it as kids.” Cass licked his lips. “Jump rope, hopscotch, you name it. It was always to that tune.”
“Doesn’t make it true,” Andy grumbled.
“No, but I believed it for a long time.”
Andy was quiet for a long breath before he responded. “Me too.”
Trails
Reyah tapped the wheel of her parked car. Sitting outside the glitzy office, she needed some time to think. The sun was high, burning down, reminding her of every wasted moment. Marv was scared. Juji was oblivious. The mothers were angry and defensive. Min was terse, and Tarone was waiting.
She had to read the soulprint and find a real trail. Too much time had been wasted in this little town and the capital city. She had a job to do, and she had the tools to do it. Doing a job right was what she loved best and what Tarone expected. So she should just do it. She should use the soulprint. Find the target. Use the blade. Get another boring assignment.
She wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel and gripped it tightly, taking a deep breath, which she let out through her teeth before resting her head against her hands.
This had never been a problem before. She’d felt a tickle sometimes or a sting with a particularly corrupt or shredded soul, but nothing like this. The deep pull in her gut was a Siren song, making her want to get swept away.
She knew the dangers of getting soul-locked. The addiction and how to resist it was part of the training. She knew how to recognize the signs from the outside. She would never forget the Dragon in the cage, strung out and starving from feeding off soul energy. He was too far gone, like a savage. She could still see the grim look on Tarone’s face as he handed over the soul blade etched white with rot. The Dragon had enough honor left to sever his own soul with the blade. Just enough to make the cut.
All the inside symptoms were theoretical. Abstract descriptions from Dragons who’d pulled themselves back from the edge. She had an appropriate fear of being soul-locked, just like every other apprentice. She was being appropriately cautious right now.
This job was special and complicated. The complications were exciting. They were.
But she wasn’t an apprentice anymore. She was a Dragon. She was above the temptations and trials of training. Tarone trusted her with this. She could do this. She would use the soulprint, resist the pull, and do her job. The job that she’d trained her whole life for.
She would. She could do it. At any moment. Like right now.
Or as destiny would have it, she could follow Mardav, who was pacing on his phone. He hailed a cab less than a block from her. She rubbed the dashboard with one hand, said the familiar Spell for stealth, and slipped into traffic behind the taxi.
She was relieved. And ashamed at being relieved. But she wasn’t about to turn her nose up at a gift like this. Why do things the hard way when she could follow the easy way instead? Just for now.
Reyah watched Mardav climb out of the taxi. She pulled into the parking lot of a grubby surf shop. The setting sun over the water was postcard perfect, and Mardav moved like a model. He stretched his long arms over his head and tossed his suit jacket over his shoulder. He’d rolled his sleeves up, and his watch glinted in the light.
Reyah parked a few spots away and watched the taxi drive off. None of the cars in this lot looked like anything the son of the Mountain would drive. Sandblasted sedans and trucks, most looking like they’d rolled right out of an old movie. Reyah’s own modest sedan was a better fit, even though it was only a decade old.
Mardav walked to an empty spot and paused. Reyah cocked her head to the side and then saw it. The shimmer. Mardav ran his hands along the side, and the car appeared. A glamour, an impressive one, which meant the target was working with a witch. Time for questions.
She stepped out of her car and sprinted to Mardav’s side. He closed the car door but began to roll down the window. Good for her, but not great for him. She leaned into the open window and smiled coldly at him.
“Another social call? I know I’m irresistible, but this is a bit much,” Mardav said bitterly.
“Where’s the witch?” she asked.
“What witch?” Mardav asked with an almost-believable look of innocence.
“I’m tired, and my neck hurts from driving, so cut the sap and talk.” Reyah gripped the car door, letting the sound of squeaking metal reach Mardav’s ears. She lifted her eyebrows. And the corners of her mouth.
Mardav stared at the indentations her fingertips had made in the car’s frame. “That’s not going to buff out,” he said with a sigh.
Reyah rolled her eyes. “Would you like me to make this a convertible instead?” she asked calmly.
Mardav shook his head quickly. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was told there was a witch who was going to hide my car here. Cass took off. Somewhere. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
&
nbsp; “They stole your car, clothes, and money, which you slept through, but they called to let you know where to pick up your stolen vehicle?” Reyah asked slowly. “How very unlikely.”
“We’re still friends. Or were. Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” Mardav said, rubbing his eyes. Reyah noticed that his hair was more tousled than fashionable, and his face was drawn. “I came to get my car and go home. One friend is dead, and I’ll never see the other again. It’s been a long day.”
Reyah stepped back and crossed her arms. Pushing this any harder wouldn’t yield results. She’d wrung as much as she could out of him.
“Your window should still work,” she sighed. Another dead end. At least she was closer to wherever they were, but she kicked at a tuft of grass growing stubbornly in a crack in the pavement. She was closer than before, but she was back to the soulprint.
Reyah keyed open her trunk and grabbed a bag. Standing in the parking lot, in the fading light of the sun, she pulled out her pouch of salt. Whispering the words to herself, she cast protection around her, touching her head and heart.
She hoped it was enough. She should have paid more attention to her magical studies. Beyond tracking and some basic protection, she’d never learned how to focus the natural magic that was in all living things. Her innate dragonkin magic was still a mystery out of her reach.
Closing the trunk, she walked past the fading buildings. She sat down a few steps from the reach of the water and wiggled down into the warm sand. It was cooler underneath, the damp clinging to her pants.
She repeated her plea for protection, asking all the Elements to guard and guide her. She had no element of her own, but the magic she’d learned was strong enough to get her through. It had to be. It always had been before.
Her fingertips tingled. She worked to steady her breath and slow her racing heart. Her palms were sweaty. She’d been doing jobs for a decade. She’d trained for twice that long. She’d collected murderers, liars, and thieves. She’d seen into the cruel desires of people who seemed so safe and kind on the outside, with caustic white rot on their souls. This target was just another challenge. If she could resist the rot, she could resist the pulsing glow too.
She closed her eyes and listened to the waves reaching across the sand. She sucked in a desperate breath and held it until her lungs burned. She wished she were a full dragon to breathe fire out across the waves, to fight this feeling with heat of her own. Instead, she let out her breath slowly and traced the imprinted signature on her palm.
The connection was like a punch in the gut. The target’s soul called to her, sweet and strong like a drug. She narrowed her focus, pushing against the emotions and sensations to feel the path forward. With her eyes closed, the highway glowed in her mind. It traveled north, then east, then split. Her brow creased. She searched the two different trails. One was faint and flickering, the other bright but thin.
Tricky. Smart. She smiled and pushed herself deeper into the soulprint, searching for the truth. Puzzles to solve. Her breathing was steady and deep. She imagined running her fingers along the trails, feeling the bumps and twists of them.
The emotions were stronger here. Frustration and anger at the place the trail split. A longing and fear that struck her like a gong, reverberating through her chest and echoing in her head. She gasped. The need pulled at her. An empty ache surrounded by mist and hope.
She missed her mother suddenly. Or the idea of her mother, a mythical being full of answers and history. A woman handing out knowledge and explaining why Reyah had been abandoned. A glowing warmth of love that made such a sacrifice necessary.
The longing grew, and she felt full of wind, blowing her along a path she couldn’t see. Fire burned in her heart, and Earth pushed her toward some waiting revelation. The waves reached for her.
She tumbled along the river of sensations, ready to weep. Then she was scrambling for something to hold on to. Something of herself in this rush of someone else’s soul. She couldn’t separate her feelings from his, her thoughts and longing from his.
Cold water splashed around her, and she fell backward. The soulprint snapped out of her grasp. She lay panting on the sand while the waves chilled her. Her arms were heavy, and her lungs burned.
She had almost gotten lost. Salt wasn’t enough. She wasn’t strong enough. She thanked Poseidon for pulling her back to herself. She had no ties to the Water, but it had saved her. She shouldn’t need saving.
Behind her eyelids, she saw where the trail forked. That was where she would go. And maybe on the way, she would figure out how to stop being so flaming bad at the job she’d always succeeded at.
Equinox
The fire burned brightly, casting wild shadows around the sand. Cass and Andy lay sprawled on their blankets, looking up at the stars. Cass thought about all the places those same stars were shining on. Like home.
“Mama Lori is probably pissed you’re not home tonight,” Andy said softly.
“Are you kidding? I bet she’s happy to have the house to herself. Probably went out dancing.” Cass tried to sound light. He pushed the words past the lump in his throat. He would tell the best lie he could.
“Does she still go dancing?” Andy asked with a chuckle. “At her age?”
“Dude, that’s my mom,” Cass kicked half-heartedly toward Andy but missed. “What do you think Mama Yana is up to? Still making dumplings?”
“A half batch at least.”
Were they celebrating back home at all? Did they know yet that Cass was gone for good? Did they think Andy was still Bonded at the Dome? He couldn’t imagine word of their escape getting around.
It had only been a few days. Cass had been gone longer than that on some of his random trips, when the press of people and expectations got to be too much and he caught the first bus going anywhere.
“They’re probably mad at us for missing the equinox for the first time,” Cass said finally.
“Not at me. I have a bloody solid excuse. I got sold off to pay Dad’s debts. He’s probably out racking up new ones. I bet Mama Lori is hiding all of your pillows out of spite.”
Cass pressed his lips together to keep a chuckle inside. He could see her doing that. She probably wasn’t worried yet. Hopefully, she was still angry. He hoped she stayed that way. Angry was easier than sad.
Cass sat up and moved closer to the flames. He was grateful that the weather was milder here than back home. The mountains held a chill in the air longer than the ocean.
Next to him, Andy sat up and scooted closer too.
“I’m actually proud of that,” he said, pointing his chin toward the crackling logs.
“You should be. I think it’s the biggest one you’ve ever done.”
“Thanks for helping. It was epic.”
“We make a good team,” Cass said. He sat up and leaned his shoulder into Andy’s. “We should sleep, though.”
“Will you bank it so we don’t roast ourselves?” Andy asked. He stood and shook out his blanket.
“What, you’re suddenly not into self-immolation? That’s no fun,” Cass said and adjusted the windbreak he’d created.
“What’s no fun is your knobby knees. Try to keep them to yourself tonight.” Andy plopped down on Cass’s blanket and pulled the slightly less gritty side of his blanket over the top of them.
“But I can’t sleep unless I’m holding something, so unless you’ve got a pillow tucked somewhere, be prepared for snuggling.” Cass tried to sound casual. Like this was normal. Like they could just be like kids again, innocent and content.
“Your crazy octopus hold is out of control,” Andy said, turning onto his side. Cass snorted, staring at Andy’s back. It wasn’t quite an invitation, but maybe it was an opportunity.
“Whatever. You love cephalopods.” Cass scooted up behind Andy and tucked himself gently next to him, keeping enough space between them for plausible deniability.
“Whatever. Just get some sleep.” Andy’s voice cracked into a yawn. “Tom
orrow we have to make money to continue our getaway.”
Cass smiled and closed his eyes, sighing. He fell right into a dream.
Cass was walking on the water. Well, walking on pads of air just above the water. The ocean was calm and dark, glittering from the sun at his back. He looked for the shore, but he couldn’t see it anywhere. Not the mountains in the distance or anything. Just water all around. He was getting tired, and it was harder to take each step forward. He began to sink lower, stepping on top of the water. His feet were cold. The water called to him. Water. He stepped forward and fell into the ocean.
Cass woke up to Andy shouting at him to hurry. He was soaked to the skin, shivering in the cold rain.
“What the—”
“Less talking, more moving,” Andy said, pulling at the blanket under Cass. Hurrying to his feet, Cass dusted himself off as best he could. Sand stuck to his wet skin, so he grabbed at the blanket, tossing the ends to Andy. He pulled a breath of Air in and blew what sand he could off their skin. He was too tired to do anything more.
Andy wrapped the blankets up, trying to get most of the sand inside, and shoved the bundle in the van before climbing in. He extended a hand to Cass, who tumbled inside, shaking water out of his hair.
They laughed and toweled off, stripping off wet clothes and arguing over who got to wear what. Andy wound up in the hoodie, pulling his knees up into the hem and tucking his hands in the sleeves. Cass pulled on a dry shirt and the sweatpants, then grabbed a pair of dry socks for each of them. Once he was dressed, he started getting the bed set up while Andy crawled into the front seat to get out of the way.
“No pants,” Andy grumbled.
“Your feet are warm. You’ll be fine.”
“My feet are warm, but my ass is freezing.” Andy stuck his bottom lip out.
“You’re tiny. Tuck the rest of you into that hoodie.”
“Fine, but I get to be the little spoon tonight.” Andy was very pointedly looking at his hands, picking at his cuticles.