The Dawn of Dae (Dae Portals Book 1)

by Anderson, Trillian

  They had been a symbol of hope and survival for most who wanted to be something more than grunt labor for the wealthy. The parks had been something even the elite didn’t dare take away. When my parents had died, I had found refuge beneath those trees.

  It had also been where I had been tumbled head-first into the black market world of Baltimore. Without those trees, I might have never met Kenneth Smith.

  I hated my ignorance almost as much as I hated watching my home burn. Grabbing the remote, I turned off the television and went to work on my tablet. Once upon a time, the internet had been an open method of communication, but with the restrictions on who could learn how to read and write, it had become little more than a graveyard. The infrastructure remained intact—somewhat.

  The original internet was a tidbit of history the government didn’t want anyone to know about. Before the crackdown and development of the caste system, people had been far freer, able to share ideas, information, and knowledge across borders. It had taken a little less than a year for the government to tear the internet down and begin controlling the way information flowed. Fortunately, they couldn’t watch everything.

  Unfortunately, they didn’t need to. It didn’t take me very long to learn the chaos in the streets of Baltimore affected the rest of the world. The United Nations called the event the Dawn of Dae, and no nation had avoided it. It had begun in the eastern United States and swept its way across the rest of the planet. No one knew what caused it—most didn’t care.

  Unlike the President, the White House’s official website contained information worth reading. While the government didn’t know what the dae were, everyone supposedly had one—or would have one soon enough.

  Someone had even managed to set up a checklist of symptoms to identify the newly bonded, although I had my doubts regarding its accuracy.

  Some dae manifested as new people. Others changed existing people into new ones, like the pink-winged werewolf. Shifters were marked as internalized dae, or humans who had transformed under the first light of the dawning.

  Apparently, having knowledge of what the dae were indicated a bond with one, which supported what I had seen at the college and on the streets. Those without dae—the unawakened—were at a major disadvantage. I wrinkled my nose.

  I’d bet everything I owned the unawakened, like me, would be shunted to the lowest castes within a couple of days. Unless I was reading the White House’s statements incorrectly, those bonded—especially to the more desirable dae—were looking at an immediate elevation to the elite rankings.

  I groaned when I realized these individuals would be asked to report to the colleges for evaluation, which meant I’d get a front row seat to the chaos the next day. As an unawakened, would I lose my spot as a Bach student?

  I had that sort of rotten, miserable luck. Groaning, I delved deeper into the available data. Unless I knew what I was dealing with, I’d be in a lot of trouble.

  The fact there were two types of dae interested me. Shifters were the obvious internalized dae while external dae could manifest as almost anything, but kept company with their bonded humans.

  Did the external dae disappear if their bonded humans died? If anyone knew, it wasn’t listed anywhere I could find.

  The White House had no information on any variants of internal or external dae, only a note they existed, which left me wondering what the world had come to—and reevaluating whether or not we were all afflicted by some global hallucinogen. Narcotics, at least, made sense.

  People mystically turning into pink-winged werewolves, three-headed miniature giraffes with nifty British accents, and flame-breathing dragons made no sense. Science couldn’t explain it. All things considered, would scientists even try to make sense of it?

  If anything, the United States would begin categorizing the dae, finding the strongest, and bringing them into the ranks of the military to ensure they didn’t lose power on a global level. I grimaced.

  The destruction in Baltimore was all I needed to see to understand the dae would have military use—and the United States wouldn’t hesitate to harness that power.

  I turned my tablet off, setting it on my coffee table. “I’m starting to believe that the more I figure out, the less I actually know, Colby.”

  “Mommy,” my sentient macaroni and cheese agreed.

  A unicorn chose that moment to step out of my refrigerator. I stared at it, and it stared back at me. I had always thought unicorns would be white and shining with a pearly horn.

  The one in my kitchen was golden, the color of the noon-day sun. While it did have a horn, it was made of metal and had holes in the sides, making me wonder if I could play it like an instrument. Its slitted eyes were sky blue with deep green pupils.

  All I could think of was an old, old book, one I had sneaked peeks at in an illegal library while sniffing out information for Kenneth. It had been a tale for children, one banned by the government for some crime or another—probably for offering hope there was a rabbit hole one could tumble down and find a brave new world, one full of magic and wonder.

  Maybe the government had been right; it had made me wonder, so much so I still remembered the words printed on the page years later. Unable to help myself, I blurted, “Do you know, I always thought unicorns were fabulous monsters, too? I never saw one alive before.”

  The unicorn lifted its hoof and set it down on the freshly cleaned tiles. Instead of the thump or clatter I expected, it tinkled, like wind chimes caught in a gentle breeze. It trotted to the front door of my apartment, flicking its long, cat-like tail at me. Instead of a tuft of fur at the tip, it had a rainbow of feathers, which it fanned out for me.

  Regarding me solemnly, it said, “Well, now that we’ve seen each other, if you believe in me, I’ll believe in you.”

  The unicorn left, although I had no idea how it opened my door without the use of hands. For a long time, I could only stare at where it had been. When I stood, my legs shook beneath me. I crossed my apartment to the door and tested the knob. It was still locked.

  At my feet was a single golden feather, and when I picked it up, it was as warm as the midday sun. I twirled it between my fingers and wondered what to believe.

  The President addressed the nation the next morning. Someone had taken the time to write him a proper speech, which he recited in a mind-numbing monotone. He detailed a plan of action, which boiled down to a plea to avoid killing each other and offer aid within their communities in any way possible. I learned nothing new about the dae.

  “You’d figure someone would know what is going on,” I complained to Colby, getting up from the couch to browse through the refrigerator. The novelty of having a choice of foods hadn’t worn off, and while I could have survived on bacon alone, I chose fruit instead. Once again, I fed Colby a selection of cheeses and milk.

  Before I reported to the college, I wanted to have at least some idea of what I would have to deal with for the near future. Creatures capable of breathing flame and eating dragons wouldn’t view me as much of a challenge.

  My ability to learn about the dae and work around them would make or break me. I had the unsettling feeling if I screwed up, even once, I’d end up just like Terry Moore, a snack for a werewolf—or worse.

  I went to work on my tablet, detailing the types of dae I had already seen while speculating on their classification. The pink-winged werewolf, Terry Moore, and the vampire were likely internalized dae. Kenneth, on the other hand, had been with someone who had appeared human.

  I suspected his dae was an external type, and one of the dangerous ones, too—if the vampire was to be believed. After meeting a unicorn capable of quoting Lewis Carroll, I was about ready to believe anything.

  In a little over twenty-four hours, everything had changed—except for me. I was still strange Alexa Daegberht, an orphan with an allergy to people. Maybe I didn’t need to change to fit right in with a society of weirdos.

  It put me at a hell of a disadvantage, though. How wa
s I supposed to survive—let alone get ahead—when I couldn’t fly, breathe flame, or turn into a bat? I chomped on my fruit, considering Colby with narrowed eyes.

  My macaroni and cheese was busy bouncing around the living room, armed with a sponge, in search of something to clean. I still hadn’t figured out how it held the sponge or wandered around without getting cheese all over everything.

  “Colby, are you my dae?” I asked, wondering if I simply hadn’t manifested any of the symptoms listed on the White House website.

  “Mommy,” Colby replied, its tone full of scorn. It stopped what it was doing, and I shivered at the sensation of it somehow glaring at me despite its lack of eyes.

  “I’ll take that as a no. Fine, then. If you aren’t my dae, where did you come from?”

  Colby sighed. That macaroni and cheese could sigh in the first place took me by surprise. Tossing the sponge onto the coffee table, Colby hopped to the refrigerator and bounced against it.

  “Yes, I’m aware you came out of my refrigerator. I put you there. You were supposed to be a week’s worth of dinner before you became a living thing. But how? Why? What I’d really like to know is why a man and a freaking unicorn came out of my refrigerator. Are they dae?”

  “Mommy.”

  I sighed, grabbed two sheets of paper, and wrote yes on one and no on the other. I set them on the floor next to Colby. “Okay. I’m going to ask you some yes or no questions. If you want to tell me yes, hop onto this sheet of paper. If you want to tell me no, hop onto this one.”

  “Mommy!”

  I decided Colby agreed to make myself feel better, took a step back, and drew a deep breath. “Are you a dae?”

  Maybe my idea had some merit, because Colby hopped onto the sheet of paper indicating yes.

  “Are you my dae?”

  Colby hopped to the other sheet of paper.

  My next question scared me, but if I didn’t ask, I’d never find out. “Do I have a dae?”

  Instead of picking one sheet of paper, Colby bounced between the two in a frantic dance.

  “You’re not sure?”

  Colby answered no. I frowned. “You are sure?”

  When Colby answered yes, I was tempted by the idea of kicking my macaroni and cheese into next week. How could I have a dae but not have a dae? It made no sense to me. Forcing myself to take several calming breaths, I considered the problem—and how my question could have two answers.

  “Do I have a dae, but in a way different from most people?”

  After a moment of hesitation, Colby mostly slid off the paper, leaving me to once again wonder what it meant. “I don’t have a dae, but I associate with them? Like I do with you?”

  Colby plopped onto the sheet of paper labeled yes and squealed, “Mommy!”

  Great. If Colby was right, not only didn’t I have a dae of my own, but I’d be neck deep in dealing with them, like it or not.

  “Do you have a human?”

  Once again, Colby did its frantic dance between the two sheets of paper.

  “So you’re like me, you don’t have a human, but you associate with them.”

  “Mommy!” Colby settled on the piece of paper with yes written on it.

  “Thanks, Colby.”

  When I had a chance to really think things through, I’d ask Colby more questions. I laughed at the thought of my macaroni and cheese being more helpful than the President of the United States and shook my head at how crazy the world had become in the course of a single day.

  Chapter Seven

  Considering the circumstances, a smart woman would have remained hidden in the safety of her apartment. I liked to believe I was smart, but I got dressed, grabbed the list of names the dean had given me, pocketed some of my cash and my gloves, dumped some bills on the counter for my refrigerator-filling benefactors to find, and left for the campus.

  Since the President of the United States had announced the government’s intention to openly advance those with powerful dae to the upper castes, the college would be a madhouse—and a dangerous one at that. Without a dae of my own, would I be able to recognize who—or what—was an actual threat?

  Probably not.

  That I didn’t turn around and march right back to my apartment proved I was a perfect fit for an insane asylum. Only a cracked pot would knowingly walk into ground zero of a dangerous situation. If I survived the day, I’d seriously think about a slide back into my old ways and hunt down a dealer for some sedatives. If I didn’t resort to medications, I doubted I’d ever be able to unwind.

  I wished Kenneth had given me a gun for my task of sniffing out Terry Moore. Maybe my mark was already dead, but I needed a way to protect myself and fast. While I had managed to knee Rob in the gut when he had gotten too close for my comfort, I doubted such tricks would protect me from the dae for long.

  Not much had changed from the evening before; smoke hung over the city in a shroud, and the fumes stung my nose and made my eyes water. Instead of cars packing the streets, huge crowds surrounded the college. The gate leading to the campus was guarded by men and dae with large guns reserved for military use. Police kept the walkway between my apartment building and the college clear. As I approached the front doors of the building, a woman with a tiny, foot-long dragon perched on her shoulder gestured to me.

  The dragon was a lot like Terry Moore had been, bejeweled in a fortune of shimmering gemstones.

  “Are you a student, Miss?” she asked. The only sign the woman wasn’t fully human—at least any longer—was the odd orange tint to her eyes.

  There were several ways I could introduce myself, and I decided to pick the one most likely to get me to the main administration building without getting eaten along the way. “I’m one of the dean’s student assistants, Officer,” I replied.

  “Are you petitioning to elevate your caste?”

  Without a dae, I had zero chance of success, so I shook my head. The woman made a thoughtful sound, probably trying to decide if I was lying to her. After a few moments, she nodded. “Name?”

  “Alexa Daegberht.” I waited while the officer pulled out a palm-sized tablet, tapping at the screen several times. Unlike me, who had to tap in every command manually, the woman concentrated, betraying her rank as an elite. The implants allowing thought-based control of electronics were so far out of my league I rarely paid attention to who did and didn’t have them.

  Most people had no idea how to spell my name, but the implants let the officer search for my name in the college records without having to spell it. Sure enough, several moments later, the officer nodded and gestured to one of the other officers.

  He was a werewolf, although he didn’t have wings. Dae, apparently, favored feathers, because he had a bright red crest of them, which snapped up at the summons. “Yes?”

  “This woman is one of the college employees. Make certain she gets there without delay,” the woman ordered.

  The wolf licked its lips, displaying its sharp, pointy teeth. After witnessing what one of his kind had done to Terry Moore, I had no doubts he could chew through my bones without much effort. I swallowed, and despite my instinct and desire to return to my apartment, I forced a smile.

  “This way,” the werewolf growled, stalking towards the street.

  The gathered humans and dae alike got out of his way. The police officer had retractable claws, which he flexed and showed off. He didn’t need a gun; all he had to do was flick out his hands and wiggle his fingers to scare people, myself included.

  I made some quick adjustments to my general list of priorities. While escaping Kenneth Smith’s plans for me was still near the top, he wouldn’t matter if I got eaten by a hungry dae.

  Despite my misgivings about keeping company with a werewolf, I made it all the way to the main administration building without being hassled. The campus was packed, and by the time I reached the dean’s office, my head spun from the variety of species I encountered.

  Most of them belonged in fairy tales or horror
novels, which only made me wonder how much of what I had perceived as fantasy was actually founded on some twisted reality somehow hidden from the world for ages. I had no idea where the dae had come from, but whoever had created them was a pretty twisted person—or a fan of banned literature.

  Maybe the shifters were gathering in force because their changes were so obvious, but as I worked my way towards the dean’s office, the number of normal-looking people increased exponentially, until my werewolf escort was the only truly strange being in the area. He left me in the hall. I was aware of the line of people staring at me.

  The dean’s office door opened, drawing the attention of those in line. The dean escorted a young man out, and like so many others I had seen, his eyes were tinged with purple.

  “Ah, you’re here, Miss Daegberht. Excellent. You will help prescreen the hopefuls,” the dean said, returning to his office only to return moments later with a slim laptop, which he offered to me. I took it, tucking it under my arm with my papers. “Coordinate with the police staff and set up outside. Send those who pass the initial prescreening to my office for additional questioning. The last idiot was sending everyone this way. I trust you can do better.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, wondering if the last idiot had gotten himself killed being stupid. “What qualifications do you want me to check for?”

  “Make certain the shifters know how to change forms, for starters. If they can’t function as a human, they’re certainly not fit for the elite caste,” the dean snapped, glaring at the line. When he didn’t see any non-humans, he relaxed. “We’ve seen enough fire-breathers for a decade. Try to find me someone interesting, Miss Daegberht.”

  The last thing I wanted was to meet anyone interesting if breathing fire counted as normal. I restrained my urge to sigh and replied, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’d like to go home sometime tonight, so get to work.”

  “Yes, sir.” While old-fashioned, I bowed, turned on a heel, and marched by the line, once again aware of those staring at me. At least their expressions had changed from scorn to curiosity. While I looked old for my age, I was still young enough. They were likely considering how to earn favor with me so they could get favor with the dean. If they were stupid enough to think I could help them, it wasn’t my problem.