by A. S. Oren
“Avalon, look at me.”
He used my name. I drop my hands and look to him. “None of this is your fault. None of it. Do you understand me?” I shake my head.
“I loved him more than anyone.”
He sighs. “I know nothing I say will make it better. Nevertheless, you have to stay strong. I didn’t know Hansen that well, but I think he would want you to keep pushing, survive tomorrow.”
“Aibek wants me dead, so why don’t I just get it over with?”
“Please, don’t think like that. This world still needs you.”
I scoff and turn my face away from him. He could never understand what’s going through my head right now.
He guides my chin back to him. Why does he, of all the people, have to see me cry? We aren’t friends.
“I mean it, Avalon. You’re needed in the world. You’re meant for great things. I just know it. This may break at your spirit, but don’t let it shatter it entirely.”
I swallow hard as hot tears flow. Fuck it all.
He uses the pad of his thumb to brush each one away as they fall. “Are you willing to try?”
The lump in my throat hurts. I nod. I’m not so sure if I mean it. I don’t think I would regret dying tomorrow.
He takes something out of his pocket and lifts my hand before slipping a tiny ring onto my pinkie. I frown and wipe the rest of my tears away, so I can get a better look at it, just a thin, silver band. Now, I have another ring I don’t want.
“This is a magical communication device. I have the twin to it. It will allow us to speak through thought when we want to.”
“So you’ll be able to hear all my thoughts?” I don’t want him in my head.
He shakes his head. “No you have to be thinking about me with the intent of talking to me for it to work. No one will be able to hear us. Not even the Watchers. I want to help you tomorrow. It’ll give us a safe way to talk when the Cabin isn’t an option.”
My stomach clenches. “I don’t think I’ll ever go there again.”
“What if you don’t have a choice? It may be the only sanctuary we have from the coming war.”
“The war between Aibek and the world?”
He shakes his head. “No. He’s just a new piece in this game of chess. A war is starting between the Families and the Slayers—”
A memory nearly knocks me over with its force.
Edgar stands in front of a tapestry. It shows a dragon, werecat, and humanoid lizard fighting Arthurian styled knights. He points to them and looks to the three of us. “Do any of yau know who these men are?”
Paden raises his hand, and Edgar nods to him. “They’re Slayers. Dad used to tell scary stories about them during our backyard camping trips. If we were bad, a Slayer would come and cut open our chests to take our hearts while in dragon form.”
“And why would they take yaur heart?”
I raised my hand. “Because dragon hearts will give a Norm immortality if they replace their heart with it.”
“Yes. When they first started, Slayers were the hunters who kept the supernatural world at bay. Keeping most Norms in the dark and, thus, creating myths of creatures. Then, our kind formed the Families and started hiding from the Norms. There was no need for the Slayers, so they tried to steal and become more like us through different methods. One of those Slayers encountered Romulus, and that’s how werewolves came about. They became nothing more than treasure seekers.”
“But we don’t have to fear them anymore, right, Ed?” Maverick asked. He leaned forward, hanging on Edgar’s every word.”
“Not anymore. In 1901, the Families and the Slayers reached a peace treaty. They haven’t hunted us since then. Sometimes there will be a rouge who wants to recreate the epic glory days of their ancestors, but they’re usually stomped out before they can do any real damage.”
The memory ends before I can get any more information out of it. I slump against the wall.
“Are you okay?” Bullock asks, touching my shoulder. I pull away from him.
“Yeah. You mentioning the Slayers triggered an old school lesson. I thought there was a peace treaty in place?”
“There was, but the Ancient who punishes me also likes to have their Speaker slip information to Roseman and Perlow when they think I’m too far gone to comprehend it. There’s a rouge rebuilding the Slayers to what they used to be, and there aren’t enough Elders left to stop them. The Families are planning a war, and there’s a rift between the Ancients of all kinds on whether or not it should be stopped. The Ancient I heard wants bloodshed to happen. When it comes to a war of worlds, the Ancients do have some say in it. So there’s a triad war happening right now, and Aibek just made it bigger.”
I press a hand to my forehead. “I can’t deal with all this right now. I just want to crawl into a hole and let them all kill each other.”
He grabs my shoulder again. “You’re going to have to deal with it. You said an arrow shot Hansen. Only Slayers use arrows.”
Dear Sun god, he’s right. How didn’t I put the two together before? One of them killed him. “That means they’re in the mountain somewhere. Why are they blaming me for his death, when they know who did it?”
“I don’t think they want the school knowing about the threat yet, and someone had to been pinned for a Royal’s murder. You were last seen with him, so you were the easiest target to choose.”
A knock on the door echoes throughout the room. I glance at Bullock. Will he stay in here, or will he go?
“Go. Just think of needing to talk to me if you need me.”
I have more questions for him. How did he know about this passage?
Another knock sounds. I wipe away stray tears and swallow hard. “Okay.” I back out of the passage and close the little door. It almost melds with the sky blue paint, but I can just make out the tiny seam. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find it again if I need it. I have no idea where it leads to; it could be one of the boys’ dorms for all I know.
I stand, go to the door, and open it. Kearn stands in his butler uniform with a tray in his hands. “I brought you an early dinner, Miss Roseman.”
“I’m not very hungry, and I don’t want to eat out there. Thank you anyway.”
“You can eat in your bedroom, Miss Roseman. There’s no rule saying you can’t.”
I sigh. “Okay.” I hold my hands out to take the tray. I know he’s just trying to look out for me.
“I can carry it for you, Miss Roseman.”
He crosses the threshold before I can warn him and walks over to one of the white nightstands. I look around, waiting for the alarm to blare and signal to everyone that there’s a boy in my room.
“The alarm doesn’t sound for servants, Miss—”
I hold a hand up. “You don’t have to address me every time. I’d rather you not.”
He folds his white-gloved hands in front of himself. “I understand.”
I take a seat on the edge of my bed. The normal flutter I used to feel when he came around has disappeared completely. I guess that part of me has gone with it.
“I’m sorry all of this is happening to you.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Of course you didn’t. I don’t think you’re capable of committing such an act. Especially to someone you loved more than your own life.”
I look into his bi-colored eyes. “How do you know that? The guys barely knew that.”
“I know things. I see things.”
My stomach turns. Something about the tone of his voice sets an unease within me. “What are you?” I think back to what Ingrid showed us at the Orchard. Her sister bound her to a chair with rope, a rope that a man with one green and one blue eye had given her. It can’t be a coincidence that Kearn has the same colored eyes. How common can that combination be?
He smiles. “Someone with the future in my best interest.”
“What does that mean?”
“That is a conversation for another day, for after you survi
ve tomorrow.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“You will. There will be something you will want to see at the end.”
I run a hand through my blonde curls. “Care to elaborate?”
“I can’t.”
“Of course.”
He motions to the tray of food, the dome-like lid still on it. “Please, eat and get your strength back, Miss Avalon. I’ll be rooting for you tomorrow.”
I nod, and he steps out of my room, closing the door behind him. Once again, I’m alone.
Of Life and Death
I lie in bed, playing with both of the necklaces that rests against my chest. The crystal keeps me from changing, and the glass locket serves as the only connection I have to a life with Edgar, which now seems light years away, not mere weeks. None of this should’ve happened.
They keep telling me to go on and live through tomorrow, to fight for my life, but I just want to lie here and mourn. No, what I want is to feel is Maverick’s strong arms wrapped around me, making me feel secure, as we sleep together.
What will happen to me tomorrow? Edgar always talked about Utopia, where the Sun god shines. I don’t know if I believe in that. I say Dear Sun god, but it has just become another phrase, like oh my gosh. I mean, it could be real. There are supernatural creatures walking the Earth after all. I honestly don’t know what I believe anymore.
I still need to tell Bullock about the chip Maverick essentially died for. It could have information on it that could help with the coming war, and who knows what else. If I die tomorrow, he’ll never know about it, and his only other allies have been brainwashed not to know him personally anymore.
‘Bullock?’ I venture, reaching out to him with my thoughts. He did say all I had to do was think about needing to speak to him for it to work.
‘You should be sleeping. You need your strength for tomorrow.’
‘Could you sleep if you were in my situation?’
‘I was sleeping.’
‘Congratulations. I’ll run out and buy you a trophy right now.”
I swear that he mentally sighs. ‘Do you need to talk about Hansen, or something?’
My breath hitches. ‘No.’ I swallow hard. A small part of me does want to talk about Maverick, but not with him, with Paden, the only other person who knew him as well as I did, but at this moment he wants nothing to do with me at all.
‘Oh. Then why are we talking?’
‘I remembered something I need to tell you. One of the reasons we were at the cabin was because I needed to talk to him about a chip Perlow gave me. Neither of us is good with the technology of this world, but I have no doubt there’s something important on that thing. If I don’t make it tomorrow . . .’
‘You will. I have no doubt about that.’
‘If I don’t . . . you should know the chip is hidden in one of the side pillows of the couch in front of the main floor’s fireplace. Just unzip it.’
‘You can show me after your survival challenge.’
‘Bullock.’
‘Clementine.’
‘Well, I told you. You can go back to sleep now.’
‘Thank you.’
My mind, once again, goes silent. Now, it’s just my thoughts and me, and that prospect scares me more than what will happen in the morning.
Objective
I don’t know when sleep overtook me, but it must’ve at some point. I guess even my body has its limits to how many days it can stay awake with insomnia-driven thoughts.
‘Clementine, you need to wake up. And when you do, don’t make any sudden movements.’
Sweat trickles down the side of my brow and falls into my ear. I scrunch my face and rub the awful tickle away. The scent of rotten eggs surrounds me. I cover my nose, but my hand does nothing to mask the rancid smell. Nausea rolls in my stomach, but I keep the vomit at bay.
I open my eyes, but keep my body still. Where in hell am I? I lie on top of hot stone. Fumes of some kind drift upward all around me.
I glance down at my clothes. Someone has changed them for me, and my golden cuffs have disappeared. Now I’m wearing the Spearwood uniform. I pat for the necklaces resting safely under my white polo.
I sit up. The rock isn’t that wide. One roll in either direction and over the edge I would go. With hesitation, I peer over the side. Several hundred feet below me, lava rolls.
‘Look up. Your scroll is coming.’
Sure enough, the gold scroll, which resembles the one from my previous survival trial, floats down, and I catch it.
‘How can you see what I'm doing?'
'They've turned this into an event and are allowing us to watch you through a screen in the ballroom.'
'How Hunger Games of them.'
'Concentrate and open the damn scroll. You need to know your objective, so you can get out of that volcano.'
'Being a fire shifter has really helped me out here. I don't think I could stand the heat otherwise.'
I break the wax SA seal and unravel the gold paper. What a waste of money and resource.
Gather the gems and find the crown that will decide your true fate. May the Sun god shine for your soul.’
Decide my true fate? I thought that’s what surviving this damn trial was for? If I survive, they’ll let me go free, and if I don’t, I’ll be killed. There’s more to this than they’re letting on.
‘I think one of the gems they’re talking about is just outside of the volcano. You have to get out of there. Fly, I guess.’
‘I won’t be able to catch air in this heat. They want me to suffer through this, not whistle and skip my way to the end. Best I can do is use my wings as gliders.’
‘They’ll know something’s up if your scales are gold and not the grey they assigned to this warped version of you.’
Before I have a chance to figure out what they have up their sleeves, and if it’s a good idea to shift my wings, the rock under me crack around the edges.
I guess, they made the decision for me. I crouch on my feet and focus on just my wings coming out of my back. The old memories of Edgar teaching me the basics echo in my mind.
“Focus on just the part yau need, nothing else. Clear your thoughts of everything, and the shift will happen.”
I focus on the color as well. If the Sea Witch could manipulate my mind when it was warped to give her a golden scale, and they could do it to change me into an air dragon, I should be able to morph the color myself by sheer force of will power. I just hope it doesn’t wipe my energy reserves as well.
The material of my polo shirt allows my wings push themselves through and melds back around where they connect with my back. I glance over my shoulder dark grey wings meet me. I smirk. I didn’t even know that was possible. Can all shifters do that?
‘You made them grey. How the hell did you do that?’
‘Sheer willpower. I figured it was all in the mind.’
‘At least they won’t suspect anything for now. I bet that was a trap to see if the warp worked this time.’
I jump from the rock just as it crumbles underneath me. The heat makes it almost impossible to catch any type of air. If it weren’t for the fact I have dragon wings, I would be in the lava already. I shift my hands and arms as I reach out for the side of the volcano, allowing my wings to guide my jump there. Like a pickaxe, I sink my onyx talons into the stone.
I groan as my body slams into the scalding rock. With a bit of effort, I pull one set of talons out of the rock and swing my body up higher, grasp further up. Chunks of rock fall away and into the molten earth below. I do the same thing again with the other hand as if I’m climbing a strange ladder. Sweat rolls down my face and into my eyes, making them sting. I just have to make it to the top.
I’m nearly halfway there when a rumble shakes the volcano, and my grip almost fails me. Below, lava rolls and hits harder against the sides of the volcano.
‘It’s going to erupt. You have to get out of their now! The gem you need will be a hundred
yards to the west when you get out.’
I flap my wings, but they don’t even billow. Magma rises higher, spitting at my feet, melting the soles of my shoes. “Fuck!” I scream. I shape shift the rest of my body—protecting my skin, I’m not immune to scalding lava—into a full, grey dragon. Ever since the battle we had at the Orchard, it’s gotten easier to transform on the spot. Still hanging onto the wall, my wings won’t work, and the added weight certainly doesn’t help. Even in my massive dragon form, the volcano dwarfs me. Where the hell is this thing? I use all my feet, scaling the wall as fast as I can. The magma chases my heels. The rumbling grows worse, shaking every fiber of my being. I breathe frost fire into the air. The ice sizzles and pops.
‘C’mon, Clementine, you’re nearly at the top. Leap for your life.’
I run up the wall, my talons barely making a ghost grip on the rock. I’m not even sure how I’m managing to stay upright, not giving into gravity.
Rocks fall all around, skirting over me and puncturing my wings with basketball-sized holes. They threaten to pull me down into the fiery death, but I hang on. Somewhere, deep inside me, I still have the will power to live.
I pull myself up over the lip of the volcano. The lava follows in a wave above me. I tumble down the side. If I was human right now, I’d be dead.
‘Look up!’
I manage to open my eyes long enough to comprehend the red glint of a ruby coming at me, or more like me coming at it. It balances on a pedestal. I shift one of my hands fast enough to grab it and shift back before the magma can melt off my skin. The lava hovers above me, ready to crash and hit my body. I shut my eyes. I doubt I can live submerged in it. Seconds pass, but nothing happens. Something cold seeps through the protective barrier of my scales, and I force my eyes open. Great, just great.
Memories
My body floats in a pool of crystal blue water. Light shimmers in rays through the surface, a hundred feet above me. Darkness threatens to swallow up my dragon form below; it grows ever closer.
Where am I now? Did the ruby take me here? It glows in my fisted claw.