by Rainy Kaye
I let out a sigh.
Silence fell between us, and then Randall said, “Saf, do you remember when you rolled through an intersection on a red light and nearly got hit by a semitruck because you were trying to get your phone from between the seat and the console?”
I frowned, glancing at him. “Yeah…”
“You shouldn’t control an airboat, Saf.”
I lazily swatted at him and then put my hand back under my head. “My t-shirt feels plastered to my skin, and I think I’m going to need a putty knife to scrape it off.”
He didn’t say anything, and I thought he had fallen asleep. I closed my eyes, willing myself to ignore the strangeness of being in an abandoned cabin in the middle of a bayou during a local apocalypse.
“How long should we look for Fiona?” he asked, and I started.
My eyes ached, so I left them closed. “Until we find her.”
We both knew the truth, though. We couldn’t keep this up forever. If we didn’t figure out where she was soon, we would have to consider a bit of self-preservation.
My heart clenched at the thought of leaving her behind while there was any chance she might still be alive. She would have never given up if roles were reversed.
“We aren’t going to abandon her, are we?” I asked quietly.
He reached back with one arm and patted around until he found my lower arm. He gave it a little squeeze.
“No,” he said, resolute. “We won’t stop.”
I shifted my hand around and linked my fingers with his. It seemed a lifetime ago that I had been irritated by the notion of him coming along on my little adventures. Now, the idea of facing any of this madness without him made my breath hitch.
Exhaustion rolled through me, leaving me weak and unable to fight sleep any longer. I drifted off into dreamless slumber.
Sometime in the night, I woke feeling like something was watching me. Randall had retrieved his hand at some point, and I had rolled over to face his back, my palm pressed between his shoulder blades.
I lifted my head and scanned the room. Thibaut had not yet returned, and the windows were dark.
Movement caught my attention. I turned toward an orb of blue light hovering in the far corner of the room. It shimmied up and down and the bright center seemed to pulse.
Another orb floated next to it. Together, they danced toward the door.
Randall remained sound asleep, his side rising and following in a deep, slow rhythm. Common sense said I should wake him, but I had a sharp worry the lights would vanish if I dare include others.
This was our moment. They were telling me that, somehow.
I lowered my feet to the floor, still fully dressed down to my shoes, and stood, scratching my arm. Some small insect had been making a midnight snack out of me.
I shuffled toward the door, following the lights, and then pushed it open.
The bayou had taken on a purple haze. Dozens of blue orbs spread out, hovering far above the ground. They seemed to sing, though their song was felt, not heard.
I stepped out onto the porch, and the two orbs from the house glided through the air, leading me away. Their glow was like a flame, caught inside itself, and I watched it, mesmerized, as I made way down the steps and past the silent airboat.
The two orbs dipped and swayed with grace, and I trailed them through the other orbs, letting them guide me. Even if I couldn’t say what they were for certain, or what they might want, they felt peaceful. It was a welcomed, almost forgotten, sensation.
The cabin was growing smaller, but I wasn’t ready to turn back yet. I flicked my fingers at the ground, pulling up magic, and left a few glowing crumbs. Satisfied the magic was mine tonight, I returned to following the orbs, leaving a magical trail to find my way back.
The orbs led me down a long stretch of land, and I bobbed in between trees and stepped over wet patches. The cabin disappeared from sight, but my path was clearly lit. I turned back to my glowing guides and followed them farther into the trees.
They came to a stop. I couldn’t discern anything different about where we stood; the trees had not cleared, and it didn’t seem any less likely to be trespassed by alligators.
The orbs fluttered around in the air, lowering to the ground. As they touched down, they expanded and flared. I turned my head, shielding my eyes with one hand.
Another light flashed, then another, and another. My heart jump-started, and I resisted the urge to turn and bolt back to the cabin. I wanted to see what these orbs were, what they had in mind for me.
The little supernovas ended. Wincing, I turned back in their direction and startled.
No less than a dozen children stood around me, ghostly white and translucent. They were all ages, from early teens down to four or five years old. Several wore stiff dresses and suits, straight out of the 1800s, and others more modern loose pants and T-shirts. As much as my mind told me they were going to reveal sharp teeth and a lust for blood, as I stood silent and still, their calm, sweet demeanor came through.
I glanced among them, unable to fully take in any of them. “Are you will-o-wisps?”
I had heard of them in folklore, but I had never considered they might be real. At least, not until now.
One of the boys, maybe six, shook his head. “I’m Gregory.”
“Hi Gregory,” I said with a smile, daring a small step toward him. He didn’t seem phased by it. “I’m Safiya.”
Gregory grinned, and then lifted his hand and traced an arc in the air with his palm. A streak of light, with all the brilliant colors of a galaxy, shimmered before him.
He stared at me expectantly.
“That’s very nice,” I said.
He nodded once. “You do it.”
I hesitated. It hadn’t occurred to me to be jealous of a six-year-old ghost, but now that he mentioned it, I remembered how inane my talents were.
“I don’t think I can,” I said gently. “What other things can you do?”
A girl of maybe twelve that seemed more dress than child cocked her head at me. “Why can’t you?”
Confusion spread across the faces of the ghost children, and a few of them exchanged looks.
“I don’t have that kind of magic,” I said.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said with a hint of insolence that only a preteen could muster. “There’s no different types of magic.”
My brain ground to a halt. Somehow, I had assumed the skills Joseph and the wielders had were due to some variation in our gifts. If what she said was true, did that mean it was possible for me to explode things with a gesture of my hand or sling magical lassos? The wall I had accidentally created at the warehouse was a pretty big hint that I had not tapped into my potential entirely.
It didn’t make sense. How could I have gone my whole life without at least stumbling upon any of these things? I might not have been facing death on the regular until the last few days, but a magical tentacle to pick up the remote from the coffee table without leaving the couch would have been aces.
“Make one,” Gregory said, indicating his spectacular shimmering design.
Feeling a bit foolish, I poked at the air in front of me, took a deep breath, and tried to channel my thoughts into drawing a line.
Nothing happened.
Internally, I bristled. It couldn’t be that hard; little kids were doing it. Why was I struggling like this?
I flicked my fingers at the ground to test for my magic, hoping Jada had conveniently stolen it so I wouldn’t have to play this game anymore. Little blue specks sprinkled along the wet soil.
Gritting my teeth, I kept the feeling of the magic from the sprinkles tingling on my fingertips and dragged my pointer finger along the air. A thin, wavering pale purple line stretched out and then faded.
I reeled back, hand up in front of me, like it was no longer my own but one belonging to someone else.
Hope twinkled inside my chest, and I looked up to Gregory’s smiling face. He clapped once and th
en flicked a burst of little green fireworks towards the center of the group.
The magic wasn’t for anything. It wouldn’t defeat an enemy or reveal any secrets. That was why I couldn’t resist imitating him, adding a spark of blue that surprised me only after I had done so. He giggled as he drew gold and green in the air. One of the other boys added in purple, dancing around Gregory and then throwing his head back with a laugh. His laughter was infectious as I spun in a slow circle, leaving red and orange lines in the air with my fingers that mingled and twisted with their magic.
My heart lifted, my chest filling with inspiration at the way the children danced and spun magic, a celebration of what they could do.
What I could do.
Something deep inside me unlocked, a feeling I couldn’t name but stuck in my throat and burned the back of my eyes.
“What are you doing here?” a girl with a long braid asked.
Reality slammed back down onto me.
“I’m here to kill a monster,” I said evenly.
The children huddled a few inches closer to each other.
“Do you know anything about the Devourer?” I scanned their faces. “How do I defeat him?”
“The Devourer?” Gregory asked the girl in the dress.
She scowled. “Louvel?”
Gregory spun on me with all but fire in his eyes. He stormed toward me. I stumbled backwards a few steps and fell back into a tree trunk.
“You will not!” He flexed his hand, powering up.
“What did I miss?” I glanced at the girl with the braid. “Give me a clue.”
Gregory’s hands glow with green magic. I turned to duck behind the tree.
“Attendez!” She held up her hand.
Gregory shot her a glare, but his magic blinked out.
The girl strode toward me.
“Louvel is our friend. He only eats magical items to live. We do not need them, anyway.” She wiggled her fingers in illustration. “Don’t harm him. He does not leave here, does not leave us. He keeps us safe.”
I blinked at her. “He tried to light me on fire.”
“You bothered him first, then,” she said pointedly.
She wasn’t wrong. As if sensing my agreement, she folded her arms over her chest.
“Okay, fine,” I said with a sigh. “I need the talisman from him, though. If he hasn’t already eaten it.”
She stilled, eyes shifting to the side as if listening to—or sensing—something. She focused back on me.
“He hasn’t eaten tonight yet,” she said. “Go get it now.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. “How? Does he know any commands? Sit? Stay? Drop?”
“He’s not a pet.” She pursed her lips. “Just ask him.”
“He wasn’t very interested in talking last time I was there,” I grumbled.
“He speaks French.”
I stared at her, letting her words sink in, and then pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can you come translate for me then?”
“It’s not hard.” She shook her head, as if I was a source of exasperation. “All you need to do is ask him. Just say, puis-je avoir le talisman?”
I took a deep breath. “Puis-je avoir le talisman? Got it.”
Before this situation could get any worse, I started to leave, but turned and looked back at the children. A few snapped up into their orbs and drifted away from me. Gregory remained in his ghostly human shape, staring at me with eyes that reflected anger and fear.
“I won’t harm Louvel,” I said. “I believe you—he’s not a monster.”
Something like relief fluttered across Gregory’s face. He collapsed into an orb and floated away.
I followed my magic breadcrumbs back toward the cabin.
There was no time to spare. I had to wake Randall so we could track down the Devourer and try to recover the talisman before it was too late.
9
As I approached the cabin, movement outside by the boat caught my attention. I crept forward, squinting to see.
Thibaut was tossing something long and thin I could not discern into the boat from the ground. When he picked up the last item, he swung it upward, and the dim glow of the bayou and the lantern inside shining out the window glinted off the sharp end.
He had a spear.
He was going after Louvel. Not that I was attached to the creature, but nothing Thibaut had done so far was rational. What if Louvel retaliated and caught the bayou on fire? What if those will-o-wisps needed their swamp dog? There was so much I didn’t know.
I jogged toward Thibaut, holding up my hands. “Hey, where are you headed?”
“Going to do what you can’t,” he said with a slur, though I had no inclination of where he might have found liquor around here. “I’m going to get that talisman.”
I came to a halt near the boat. “I got some info on—the Devourer. I’ll go with you. I can get the talisman from him this time.”
Thibaut swatted the air like I was a fly bothering him.
“You had your chance. I should have done this in the first place.” He gestured down at the pile of spears laid out on the airboat. “Straight to the heart.”
My chest tightened. I shouldn’t care about what he did, but it all seemed so much bigger than me now.
“It’s not necessary,” I said, climbing up on the airboat. “He’s not dangerous.”
I reached for one of the spears. Thibaut lunged at me, coming up over the edge of the boat, and shoved me back. I stumbled and fell overboard, slamming my tailbone against the ground. My teeth clashed shut.
Thibaut stood at the edge of the boat, staring down at me.
“I’m not going to let you stop me.” He lifted his face to the bayou beyond us and yelled, “None of you will stop me!”
His voice ricocheted around us, and the sound was more haunting than the ghost children I had just spent time with.
I pushed to my feet. “All we have to do is ask him for the talisman. That’s it.”
Thibaut’s expression contorted with anger.
“Get the hell outta here!” He snatched up on one of the spears and swung the handle at me.
It caught me in the face. My head jerked backwards, and the sky swirled and went black. I collapsed to the ground.
My vision cleared as Thibaut leapt off the side of the boat. I scrambled backwards against the ground, ramming into a tree.
He swung the spear handle again at me. It cracked against the trunk and splintered.
Great. Now both ends were pointy.
He clutched the remaining spear shard in his hand like a knife and pulled it back. I shifted forward and slammed the sole of my shoe into his stomach. He let out a wheezing breath as he staggered backwards.
I pushed off the ground and barreled into his abdomen. He swayed and then toppled to the ground, me on top of him. I pressed his face with my palm while I used my other hand to try to wrestle the spear from him. He growled, bucking under me, and I tipped forward, my face hitting the ground above his head. His arms wrapped around me and he rolled me to my back and reared upwards. My fingers were still locked on the spear. He twisted it back and forth, trying to break my hold. I jabbed the elbow of my free arm into the ground as leverage and pulled harder.
He yanked the spear back, my fingers slipping as I grappled for it.
“I will find them,” he growled. “I will bring my wife and son home.”
Before I could react, he slammed the spear handle shard across the bridge of my nose. Pain shot down to the center of my brain. I laid there numb, unable to see, caught somewhere between stunned agony and half-formed realization.
What were the Gates of Guinee? What quest, exactly, had Thibaut been on this whole time?
The world came back in shades of hazy gray. It was just enough for me to put together Thibaut inches from me, raising the spear, this time the sharp metal end aimed at me.
I rammed the heel of my palm blindly at his face. My palm connected with his chin. The spear stabb
ed into the earth beside my head. I reached up and awkwardly wrenched it from the ground. Thibaut made a move for the broken spear, but I swiped the head at him, snagging his arm.
He recoiled like a demon from holy water and scrambled off from me. He hissed, cradling his arm as blood trickled down across the back of his hand.
“You can’t stop me,” he screamed, hunching forward, face red and a vein bulging in his forehead. “I will kill the beast!”
“Alright, Gaston,” I grumbled, rolling to my side and then pushing myself to a sit. I kept the spear shard in hand as I climbed to my feet.
Still hunched over, he let out a roar-scream that filled the night air. I wasn’t even sure it was aimed at me at this point.
Behind him, clattering erupted in the cabin. Randall shot out the door and down the stairs. He headed straight for us.
I tried to be subtle in my warning to be careful, but there was no way he could make out my expression in the dim light.
“He’s fine,” I called. “It’s all fine.”
Thibaut spun around and clamored up into the airboat. I tensed, expecting him to go for another spear. He fumbled in his pocket, panting, and pulled out the key.
I shot a look at Randall. Thibaut jammed the key into place and twisted. The fan spun up. I scurried toward the boat and leapt on as it started to move. Randall hauled himself up opposite of me. The boat spun slowly and then glided into the water.
Thibaut dropped into his seat and directed the airboat back in the direction of the Devourer. Or Louvel, depending who was asked.
This wasn’t going to end well. Thibaut was intoxicated, and it didn’t seem to be entirely all alcohol. If he made a sudden attack, Louvel would use us all as kindling in a campfire.
My mouth went dry, and I struggled to swallow while I tried to formulate my next words. I took the passenger seat next to Thibaut.
“I know you need the talisman,” I began. “I just don’t think lobbing spears at the Devourer is going to do anything useful. We need to be smart about this.”
Thibaut didn’t respond. He just gunned our little craft.
In no time, the suspended wrecked boat came into view. Louvel was around here somewhere.