by K W Quinn
She moved her map aside and put her bowl and crystal away.
“Sorry. I’m not used to talking about it. She never calls herself that, and the way you talk about them, I didn’t want to get your hopes up. My mom isn’t a revolutionary hero. She’s just my mom.”
Dez turned and leaned against the cabinets. “But you dream of rain, and then it rains.”
“No. I mean, it’s a coincidence. I’m probably hearing the rain in my subconscious while I’m sleeping.”
“Your mother is a Mistwalker, and you dream of rain, and then it rains,” Dez repeated.
“Kaida dreams about the rain too.” Cass looked to Andy for support, but Andy’s eyebrows were furrowed, and Kaida was chewing on her bottom lip. “You guys, I’m not. I’m just me.”
Dez’s serious face slowly melted into her trademark smile. “Yes, love. You are.”
“But—”
“No, no excuses. Kaida, this might be the best time to take your leave. I have business with these boys that isn’t on your path.” Dez’s voice filled the small space and pressed Cass into his seat. What had he done? Andy stared at him with wide eyes, fingertips pressed hard to his coffee mug.
“Oh. Right. Of course. I’ll just—” Kaida said, trying to untangle her words and her legs to move toward the door.
“Sorry it’s so abrupt, but you have my card. You know how to find me.” Dez smiled. It almost took the sting from her words.
“It would be easier if you had a real phone. You know, one you kept turned on,” Kaida said, eyes searching the camper. Cass couldn’t watch her leave. It was too much.
“Nonsense. Just a useless expense. I keep that voicemail account and check it when I can. That’s good enough for me. You might think about it, getting rid of that little brain trap you carry in your pocket.”
“I like my games,” Kaida grumbled.
“And I like my freedom. Be well. Travel safe. May wisdom guide you ever onward, little dragon.”
Dez ushered Kaida out the door before turning to Cass.
“I can’t believe I stumbled upon a Mistwalker. Of all the tricks of Fate,” Dez mumbled.
Cass shook his head. “But Dez, I’m—”
“Don’t argue with me. You need to go get your wheels and follow along because we have places to be.”
Andy and Cass exchanged glances, and after a round of headshaking and shrugs, they stepped out of the camper and dashed to their van as instructed.
Return
It was a much nicer drive than the first one, even though he had no idea where they were going. On the way out to the witches, with Andy exhausted and in pain, Cass had been driven by fear and adrenaline. Now he was a different kind of worried. Dez was going to be so disappointed.
Cass had never been great with maps and directions, but he thought things were starting to look familiar. So many coastal towns had similar decor and city planning. They’d driven all along the coast, and it all looked the same.
Every surf shop was sandblasted and dusty, but as Dez pulled into the parking lot of this surf shop, Cass was certain it was the surf shop. The one the witches had used.
They tumbled out of the van. In the parking lot, Andy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and Cass tried to shake the feeling that they were back at the beginning.
“All right, my loves,” Dez said, “go keep yourselves busy by the water. I have a call to make.” Dez shooed them down to the beach, then strode toward the abandoned-looking shop.
With more headshaking and more shrugging, Cass and Andy went walking by the water. Cass tried to reach out and feel any resonance with the waves, but there was nothing. It was just water. Wet and mysterious. The wind blew and tugged at his hair and clothes like a reminder of his true talents. It was so chilly there wasn’t enough humidity in the air to feel anything.
Cass scrubbed his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. Kaida was a bit ahead of them on the beach, hands shoved in her pockets, watching the sand in front of her very intently.
Cass nudged Andy with his elbow and pointed with his chin.
“Guess she wasn’t ready to leave?” Andy mumbled around another yawn.
The air in Cass’s lungs shook, vibrating at the frequency of elation. He tried to keep his smile casual and not eager, but he couldn’t stop his feet from rushing toward her.
“Are you following me?” he said with a grin.
She shook her head but didn’t take her eyes away from the waves. “Just passing through, remember? Lots of beaches in the world. Must be coincidence that you wound up on mine.”
“Yours?” Cass pushed her gently with his shoulder. “Why do you get to claim this one? It could be my beach.”
“I was here first.” There was a tightness to her voice. Was she scared of him now that Dez thought he was some sort of living legend?
“I’m just me,” Cass said. Andy nodded but said nothing, yawning and trying to keep his balance on the shifting sand.
“We’re all more than we seem, though,” Kaida said after a long pause. “Andy doesn’t look like a dancer, but he is. Dez doesn’t look like a revolutionary, but she is.”
“Well, you look like a dragon, and you are,” Cass said. If he hadn’t been looking right at Kaida’s face, he might have missed the momentary tightening around her eyes before she gave a smile and nodded. “I’m sorry. Is ‘dragon’ bad? Should I say ‘dragonkin’ instead?”
Kaida shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“But I don’t want to say it if it’s offensive. I guess there aren’t a lot of positive connotations with dragons. Murder and hoarding and stuff.”
“Sure. I guess. I don’t know. I never joined any of the dragonkin support groups or anything. I did it on my own. But I guess for me, I prefer dragonkin. Or just one of the Kin.”
Cass nodded. “I can do that. I recently learned about a super-cool group of, like, tracker-assassins or something called Dragons.”
Andy elbowed him in the ribs, but Cass was watching Kaida do her cute nose scrunch.
“Really?” she asked and tilted her head. Cass loved watching her play with her braid over her shoulder. It was like her security blanket.
“Yeah, see, we met this—”
“Cass, we should go clean the van. It’s getting a funk,” Andy said sternly.
Cass saw the tightness in his jaw and decided to take the hint. “Aw, I was just getting to the good parts of the story,” he whined. “Kaida, stay for dinner, and I’ll tell you all about it.” He twinkled his fingers at her and was pleased when she chuckled back. “I’m off to clean.”
Once they were in the van, which was indeed funky, Andy rounded on him.
“What are you doing? You can’t tell people what’s after us. We’re on the run for our lives, or have you forgotten? This isn’t some cool story to get chicks.”
“She’s not a chick, Andy. She’s special.”
“Whatever she is, she’s not someone you should be spilling all our secrets to.”
“So we’re never gonna trust anyone ever again?”
“Maybe someday, but you want to trust the very first people we meet?”
“These are decent people, Andy. Can’t you see that?”
“No. I mean, yes, but also no. They are good people. They’ve helped more than seems reasonable, we’re very lucky we met them, and I like them a lot. But we haven’t been at this long. We have to be careful. When we’re more established and safer, then we can open up about the trouble we’ve escaped. But we’re still escaping right now.” Andy ran his fingers through his hair. “While we’re here, let’s actually get some cleaning done, all right?”
Cass nodded and tried to hear the truth in Andy’s words. It all made sense, but it rubbed him the wrong way. He knew he was right. Especially about Kaida. She was special. Cass could feel it, and he was sure she felt it too. More than flirtation or friendship. She was safe.
A loud knock on the van door shook Andy and Cass out of their de-funking
concentration. Before they could reach the handle, the pounding came again. Who would even knock? Dez and Kaida came in whenever, and they didn’t know anyone else nearby.
Andy got a hold of the handle and twisted it; luckily, the door opened outward. But then the door was wrenched from his hands, and he almost tumbled into the arms of a very angry witch.
“Why in the four corners of the world are you back here? Are you completely unrooted, or have you decided to spit in the face of all our protections? Where are your backpacks, and for the love of Demeter, what is that smell?” Charly wrinkled his nose, looking around the van.
“Hi, Charly,” Andy said, smiling despite the force of Charly’s tirade.
“We got robbed on our first day, but we met a nice street performer who’s taken us on as apprentices,” Cass added.
“And I think that smell is burnt plastic from an accident with a candle, but it might be a sock we lost for a few weeks.”
“Perhaps you burned the sock,” Charly said with a disdainful nose wrinkle. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Andy said. “We’re here following mysterious orders from Dez.”
“Dez?” Charly asked with a squeak.
“Our performer friend,” Cass added.
“Nadezda? You’re here with Nadezda? How are you here with Nadezda? Where did you find her? Does she know who you are? What have you told her? Spirits alive, this is insanity.”
Andy and Cass exchanged confused glances and then turned to Charly with matching head tilts. “How do you know Dez?” they asked in unison.
“This is too much for right now. Come on, we’ve got to get to Amel before he comes unrooted.”
Charly backed out of the van, waving the boys with him. The door to the surf shop slammed open, nearly rattling off its hinges.
“Oh. Too late.” Charly rounded on the boys and jabbed a crooked finger at each of them. “Not a word. Not one word, do you understand? This is a very delicate situation, and you need to let me handle it.”
Andy and Cass nodded quickly.
“Seventeen different methods of divination and no hint of what has to be the biggest cosmic coincidence in a century?” Amel bellowed and stomped across the parking lot.
“Oh, he hates being wrong. Blind spots in divination drive him batty. He likes to pretend it’s more scientific than interpretation but—Hey, Amel. The boys are fine and here and not horrifically rebellious or disobedient.”
“I can see that,” Amel said through clenched teeth. Dez appeared behind him, arms crossed and scowling. It was such an unfamiliar look that Cass’s gut clenched in dread.
“We need a clearing, a fire, and a lot of time to map out the workings of Fate, loves.” Dez strode toward her car.
“Should we tell Kaida?” Cass asked her retreating back.
Amel and Charly glanced at each other and then back at the boys. “Who?”
“Oh, we met another—” Cass began, but Dez whirled on him and cut him off with a dismissive hand.
“She shouldn’t be here, but since she is, bring her. Bonfire.”
Charly looked toward the van and shook his head. “We have a very lovely house not far from here, and we would be more than comfortable on the—”
“Bonfire,” Dez repeated.
“As you wish,” Charly conceded. “I’ll need to get a few things from home, but we’ll find you on the beach.”
“With cider. This is not a conversation anyone needs to have sober,” Dez said.
Marvelous
“Marvelous,” Anessa said happily as she opened the door.
“Oh, we’re back to childhood nicknames, Nessie?” Marv replied with a curt nod.
“Is that the prodigal son?” Annika called from somewhere inside.
“Come in, little brother,” Anessa said, stepping aside and waving Marv into the house.
“Nikkie, how are you?” Marv asked politely. She was standing in the living room, one hip resting on the back of the couch, sipping a glass of something on ice. Some sort of whiskey, if she was still as predictable as ever.
“Better than you, little brother.” She lifted her glass and her eyebrows in Marv’s direction.
“Are we talking morally? Because that’s debatable.”
“Fiscally, if nothing else,” Anessa said, joining her sister with a matching glass in her hand. Marv stared at their matching faces wearing matching looks of disapproval.
He reminded himself that he was here to make peace or at least attempt to convince them to see reason. Calling them “the Boulders” wasn’t going to win him any points, no matter how funny he found the nickname.
“Do you have to share the inheritance equally, or does Nikkie get the larger share since she’s older?”
“Sixteen minutes does not an older sibling make,” Anessa sighed and settled into a wingback chair. It looked like the ones they’d had growing up, only newer. It hurt Marv to see such familiar things when the twins had changed so much.
“Just curious, since you’ll now be sharing my portion as well. May I have a glass of whatever that is?”
“You know where the bar is,” Annika said dryly.
Marv walked over and poured from the crystal decanter. “Good to see some things haven’t changed,” he said, letting the whiskey warm him from within.
“You never change, but why should that be of any importance to us?” Annika said.
“Because you did change, and I want to know why.” Marv took a deep breath. Negotiate, not alienate. He softened his face and his voice. “We used to be a team. United against the evils that the Conglomerate was committing in the name of the Earth. We used to have a dream of restoring balance and changing the reputation of our family. We used to be family.”
“We also used to dream of riding unicorns to work every day. Childish fantasies must give way to real life, Marv. You never did seem to learn that,” Annika said. She moved to her chair, reclining as though it was a throne. She lifted her chin. “We took the responsibility, so we get the rewards. It’s that simple.”
“You sold out,” Marv said quietly.
“Did you come to use the same old insults and have the same old argument?” Annika asked. Her hand was tight around her glass. Not the receptive audience he’d hoped for.
“I came here because I need you on my side,” Marv said.
“The losing side?” Annika scoffed.
“The right one,” Marv protested.
“Little brother, you’ve taken the wrong path,” Anessa said, sipping her whiskey. “You’re fighting when you should be integrating.”
“No. You’re squandering your position of privilege by bowing down to Father’s megalomaniacal whims.” Marv swallowed the rest of his whiskey and set his glass down. “He’s taken a corrupt system that used to at least have a facade of good intentions and turned it into a—”
“A worldwide corporation that manages and influences every aspect of people’s lives?” Annika cut in. “We have access to the whole world, and we are doing good. Which is more than I can say for you.”
Marv opened his mouth to reply, but she waved a well-manicured hand in his face. “Every day, we’re helping people. You’re too busy slumming with your cheap friends, trying to pretend it gives you social relevance.” Annika sighed, and Anessa pursed her lips and clacked her fingernails on her glass.
“Social relevance is at least useful!” Marv shouted, running a hand through his hair. “It’s better than your methods, which are actually thinly veiled attempts to seduce the masses into accepting your muddy lies. You’ll do anything to keep a docile labor force.” Marv stared at his empty glass. A refill sounded good but wouldn’t help him hold his temper.
His perfect sisters. They had an answer for everything, and he didn’t think this would be any different, but he had to try. He had to hope that they weren’t turning into the monsters he feared.
“We don’t need the public to be docile. We
have golems,” Annika said over her glass. She crossed her legs and looked to her sister for confirmation. Anessa nodded, but her lips were a tight line.
Marv wanted another drink to burn the taste of his own complicity out of his mouth, but he needed to stay focused. Guilt would keep him on target. “You know, I think Father would be perfectly happy replacing everyone who disagrees with him with a fleet of golems.”
“The idea is passingly appealing,” Anessa said with a wide smile. It was an alarming display of perfectly white teeth. “But if that were true, he wouldn’t have kept you around for so long. Why keep a lackluster executive on the payroll, even in the name of nepotism?”
“As an executive, I am easily replaceable—” Marv began.
“You finally admit it,” Annika interrupted.
“But my connections are vast. I know how to talk to people. You two never did figure that out,” Marv scoffed. The Boulders exchanged a familiar eye roll. “And besides, Father always did like having a scapegoat around.”
“Stop playing the victim, Marv. Your youthful rebellion isn’t cute anymore. Grow up,” Annika spat. She emptied her glass and rattled the ice. Her patience was cracking.
“It would take a little groveling and some scrutiny for a while, but we can get you back in.” Anessa laid a hand on her sister’s arm, leaning forward. “Come work on our team. The change of venue might help you see that there is value in working inside the system.”
Anessa held out her hand.
“The system is the problem. You can’t solve it from inside. You need to dismantle the whole thing and stop treating people like cattle.” Marv’s fingers stabbed the air. Annika’s eyes narrowed, but Anessa flinched.
“Marv, you can’t change the world overnight. You have to take these things slowly. Annika and I—”
“Are part of the problem. What good are a few extra dollars pushed toward a charity you don’t remember the name of when that profit comes from enslaving people who can’t—”