Reawakening

by CM Raymond

  “No. Better than me. I can manage all three kinds of magic. I can combine them, you know, cast a fireball and make the wind whip your hair around at the same time, but she’s different. She combines all of them into one form—a new art has been awakened.”

  He told the Dean about how Hannah had transformed the lizard into a dragon and then gave him wings.

  “Bloody hell,” she whispered. “Transmogrification?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it before—and I have seen quite a lot,” Ezekiel stared at the stack of glasses. “Hannah is the key. With her gifts, she could radically change the city. Hell, she could change the world.”

  Amelia was nervous. But then again, so was Ezekiel. Neither of them was exactly sure they could trust the other. She wondered for a moment if he could be some sort of spy for Adrien sent to test her allegiance. At that moment, she wanted to spill her guts, tell him everything she knew about the scholars’ program, but wasn’t sure if that was safe.

  But she had gone so far already; she might as well take the shot. If even half of what he said was true, it would be worth it. “There’s something you need to know about Adrien.”

  Ezekiel nodded, but held a hand up as she began to speak. “There’s something you need to know about him as well, but let’s wait for my colleague to get here. Then we can place all the cards on the table. Until then, I just told you my whole story. What about yours? Seems only fair that you’d reciprocate. How did you become the Dean?”

  Amelia glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she should be afraid of Ezekiel’s colleague. She pictured Adrien himself walking through the door. Realizing she had come this far, she started with her story. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “At Lloyd’s? Eh, the place isn’t so bad.”

  Amelia smiled. “No. In the Academy. I wasn’t born a noble. My family lived outside the walls—farmers. We certainly weren’t wealthy, but my father was a shrewd salesman, so we made ends meet in in the lean years.” She paused looking at the bottom of her drink.

  He goaded her along. “And then?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t remember much. I was so little then. I only remember a few images of the night that it happened—like a dream that you have between waking and sleeping. It was nighttime, and my mother was getting me ready for bed. My eyes were burning because I got in trouble for not finishing dinner—funny what you do remember.” She paused and looked down at the table. When she looked back up, her eyes were glassy. “I do remember the racket. There were screams that sounded like a mix of men and beasts. My father grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder and ran for the pig pen. I saw their terrible faces as they ran toward the house.”

  “The remnant?” Ezekiel asked in a hush.

  She nodded. “Yeah. My dad pushed me down with the pigs. Told me not to move. Said the pigs were magical, that they would keep me safe.” A smile slipped through the tears, and she laughed. “Now, I know it was the pig shit.”

  “The pigs covered your scent,” he said.

  “That’s right. My dad was really bloody smart. He ran back for my mother and sister… was the last I saw any of them.” She pushed a tear off her cheek and cleared her throat. She wanted to look strong in front of him but memory and alcohol proved stronger than her will. “The next day, I was found by the guards that came to investigate the slaughter. They brought me in… and that’s how I ended up in Reston’s house.”

  “Reston? That name’s familiar.”

  “Would be if you’re really the Founder. He’s been here since the beginning. Since before the city walls.

  Ezekiel laughed. “I’ll be damned. You’re talking about little Resty. He was just up to my knees when I left. He became a noble?”

  She nodded.

  Ezekiel took a long drink and pictured the boy he used to know. Resty could be a brat, but he was just so full of life. They all were back in those days; survivors of a dark time who were still able to dream of a better future. Zeke thought about Resty, muddy from playing in the unpaved streets. He remembered Genevieve and Alton, young and in love and about to have their first child—an act of braveness that could have only been conceived in hope. I wonder what happened to them, he thought. Their kids are probably parents of their own by now. He remembered Eve and her beautiful gardens—and the way she’d smile when spring came.

  But he also remembered Adrien and Saul. Fierce friends. They were supposed to be the future, Ezekiel thought. How did it go so wrong?

  “Didn’t see that coming,” he said, shaking away his nostalgia and returning to the matter at hand. “But then again, I didn’t really see the whole noble/poor thing coming either. I’m powerful—not perfect.”

  Amelia drank again and finished her third pint. “There are good people in the noble district. They’re not all what you think.”

  “You don’t know what I think,” Ezekiel said.

  She smiled. “You’ve said enough. And you don’t get to be the Dean of the Academy with sand between your ears. Resty and his wife treated me like their own. They’re the only parents I really know. I’m where I am now because of them.”

  Ezekiel nodded and then glanced over Amelia’s shoulder. “We’ll have to continue later. My friend has arrived.”

  Amelia turned and saw an enormous brute of a man pushing through the room. On his chest, he wore the badge of the Guard. Amelia choked on her drink. Her fears were right, this was all a setup. How could she have been so naïve?

  Amelia raised her hands, ready to fight if she had to, but Ezekiel placed his hand on hers. “Relax. My friend might look ugly, but she’s really quite nice.”

  “She?” Amelia asked. She looked the brute up and down as the man pulled up a chair.

  The man smiled. “Never judge a book by its cover, sweetheart.”

  Ezekiel laughed as Amelia looked back and forth between the two of them, confusion plainly written on her face. “Like I said, this is not a fight I can win on my own. Luckily for us, my dear friend Julianne is better at the mystic arts than I am. I’ll fill you in on her story in a bit. But first, I need you to tell me your suspicions about Adrien. What is he up to?”

  Amelia took another long drink, then started to speak. But before she could get out two words, a sharp pain stabbed Ezekiel’s brain. He dropped his glass and it spilled across the table, causing the women to jump.

  Amelia and Julianne looked at him concerned. Julianne put her hand on his shoulder. She was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t hear her voice.

  All he could hear was the sound of screaming in his head.

  The pain and the screams... they were Hannah’s.

  ****

  Gregory winced as Hannah began to scream. She was coming apart, but only because she knew she couldn’t stop the inevitable. Her best friend would soon be gone. And she wasn’t powerful enough to save him.

  “Damn it, Ezekiel. Where the fuck are you?” she cried.

  Gregory took a step backward and tripped over his own feet—a terrified look on his face. Hannah thought for a second that the boy was afraid of her, but a loud screech filled the room and Hannah knew its source.

  The gust of Sal’s wings blew through Hannah’s hair as the dragon swooped down from the landing. He landed gracefully on the edge of the table. His little tongue lashed out and licked the side of Parker’s face. Sal looked up at Hannah; she could almost read the sadness on his scaly face. It reminded Hannah of the first day she met Sal, back when he was nothing more than a common lizard.

  And it struck her.

  “I made you,” she said at the creature. Looking back at Parker, she exhaled. “I can do this.” Craning her head around the room, she shouted, “Everyone out!”

  Gregory, without taking his eyes off the dragon scampered from the room.

  Hannah cleared everything out of her head—the fear, the anger, the agony of watching Parker drift away from the world. She reached for perfect stillness, but she knew she couldn’t stay there. She had learned,
from that day that Sal was made, as well as the day that she had destroyed the Hunters in her old house on the Boulevard, that her most powerful acts weren’t done like the magic of Hadley and the other mystics. Her greatest power didn’t come from repose, but from passion.

  It was amid chaos that she performed miracles.

  Once her head was clear, she brought it all back. She pictured her brother, dead in her arms. She imagined the bits of her father’s body strewn around the house. She remembered Miranda, the loving alchemist from her neighborhood, now dead at the hands of zealots. She imagined all the pain and the hurt that she experienced in all of her years in the Boulevard—held down by the corrupt systems waging war on the lower class. Finally, she pictured life—daily life in a world where Parker no longer existed.

  Power boiled under her skin and threatened to blow her up from the inside out. But when she locked eyes with Sal, she knew she could contain it. It was like the dragon was encouraging her, giving her the will to go on.

  Laying her hands on Parker’s chest, she forced every ounce of passion through her hands and into his body.

  Her eyes glowed red like the flames of Hades. She said a silent prayer to the Matriarch, then screamed as all the magic left her in a single wave.

  Her knees turned to mud, and she crashed to the ground. Karl and Gregory ran back into the room. Gregory kneeled at her side, trying to help her gain her feet. Karl’s wide eyes were locked on the table. She could see the fear in the rearick’s face, and she knew what it meant.

  Shit, she thought. He’s gone.

  ****

  One large tear rolled down Hannah’s cheek. Her ears were ringing; she could hear nothing around her.

  Until a single voice broke through. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?”

  She looked up, and Parker was staring down at her from the table. His face was full of color and he was beaming from cheek to cheek.

  “Parker!” she yelled as she worked to get back on her feet, Gregory helping her. She threw her arms around him, knocking him back down.

  “Don’t take this wrong way,” Parker wheezed, “but you feel really heavy right now.”

  Hannah stood up, her eyes instantly wet with joy. “You’re alive.”

  “Of course, I am. Parker the Pitiable always bounces back. Plus, I had to. I knew you’d be useless without me.”

  Hannah landed a right hook on his shoulder. “Bastard.”

  Laughing, Parker said, “You saved my life just so you could get back to torturing me? Can I get a take back on that whole death thing? And… Could you repeat that part about needing me again? I liked that.”

  “Did you hear the bastard part?” Hannah asked with a wicked grin.

  He swung his legs over the side of the table and slowly sat up. Every inch of his body ached, but he knew that he was fine. She had saved him, and Parker realized just how powerful his friend had become.

  He stretched his newly healed neck. “Next time, go a bit easier, OK? You almost overcooked me.”

  “There had better not be a next time, you douche nugget.”

  Parker smiled, then pulled her back in for another hug. He whispered in her ear. “Don’t leave me again, OK? It was hell here without you.”

  She leaned back, but didn’t let go. Their eyes were inches apart. Hannah glanced down at his lips and then back up into his eyes.

  A loud throat clearing broke the spell between them. Hannah stood up straight and turned to the doorway. There was Ezekiel, standing with arms crossed with two women behind him.

  “Damn college students,” he said. “Can’t leave ‘em alone for a minute!”

  ****

  Adrien leaned in, inches from Alexandra’s face. Even though she had been in the depths of the factory for days, she smelled amazing. She always did. “My best men have been searching for her for weeks, and they’ve found nothing. What makes you so confident?”

  “Darling,” she lifted a hand to his chin. “Your best men are pussies. I’m the only one with the balls to do what’s necessary to find your little bitch. However, my methods... they aren’t very popular. When I’m done with them, I doubt your precious citizens will like me as much as you do.”

  Adrien smiled a wicked grin. “As if they aren’t scared enough. Jed’s disciples have stirred up enough terror in the Boulevard and the Market to keep them in line. A few more casualties would be justified. In fact, kill whoever you need, just so long as you bring me the girl.”

  She returned the smile. Alexandra had worked for him for nearly three years, and there was no one in Arcadia whose skillsets he trusted more than hers. She could make a mute Monk dedicated to his vow of silence sing the Arcadian anthem faster than he could take a piss. Her methods were unorthodox, but orthodoxy never got him very far.

  “Do what you need to do,” he said. “You’re off your leash.”

  “As long as you’ll put me back on my leash in due time, Adrien.” She raised an eyebrow as she drew a long, crooked knife. “But first, I should finish this business.”

  She turned back to the big man hanging from the chains in the middle of the room.

  “Should have given me more, Jack.”

  The man turned his heavy eyes up toward her. They begged for mercy. “No,” he whispered. “Please.”

  “Say hello to the Queen Bitch for me,” she said as she sliced open his throat.

  Blood sprayed in every direction, pumping in rhythm with the man’s heart. Flecks of red covered her. Turning back to Adrien, she ran her tongue down the smooth side of the knife. “Yummy. I can feel the power, just as she did.”

  Adrien shook his head. The woman in front of him was insane. And more than that, she was a monster. But she was his monster. She would spill a river of blood without a second thought.

  “Get it done,” he said. He turned and left the room, thinking about the fun he’d have once the bitch, Hannah, was in his hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Everyone was assembled in the great room of Lord Girard’s house. Parker was flanked by Hannah and Eleanor, the two women that meant the world to him. Karl sat across the room from them, his mighty hammer, still red from fighting, lay across his knees. Gregory stood in the doorway, his face as white as goat’s milk. Hannah wasn’t sure what he made of all of this, but he hadn’t fled yet, so that was a plus.

  Sal curled up into a ball in the middle of the room, apparently uninterested in what the humans were discussing.

  Ezekiel took a moment to introduce Amelia, the Dean of Students from the Academy and Julianne, who had transformed back into her mystic form within the safety of the mansion.

  Other introductions were made, but Ezekiel kept them brief.

  He stood and looked around the room, then launched into his speech. “I don’t know most of you—not well at least. Many of the relationships in this room were forged in fire, blood, and lies. In reality, we’re strangers more than we are friends. But we share one thing in common—a love for justice. And that’s a tie that binds us stronger than any family.”

  “And beyond that, I believe that we have all been brought here for a glorious purpose. Though it might not look like much, those of us here have been given the power to take this city back from those who rule it with fear and cruelty. We have a chance to make the world better.”

  “Adrien is a wicked man. Many of you suspect this, though, he hides his villainy well. But if we are honest with one another, I believe that the truth will come to light. I will begin with my story.”