Of Breakable Things

by A. Lynden Rolland

  It took all his strength to take a step back. He still didn’t know how much was allowed. In life, the only thing he ever cared about was keeping her safe, and that included her heart. He had watched her body slowly deteriorate, and it tortured him to witness it. How could he be selfish enough to fall for her if that would only make her death more painful? He’d never imagined they’d get an opportunity like this one. They couldn’t have dreamed of a better place. His feelings were so strong now, but what would happen to him—what would happen to her—if he gave in for just one moment and decided to kiss her? Half of him worried the force of it might devour the slice of life they still had. The other half of him feared it wouldn’t be perfect, that it might not live up to the years of desire they’d both endured only dreaming about it.

  That was the thing about them. The intensity between them was not born from their death. When they were alive, sometimes he couldn’t breathe because she was just too much. It would always be all or nothing with them. And he’d rather have this uncertainty between them than broken expectations.

  He tugged at her hand. “Come on.”

  She followed reluctantly when he led her to the door. The force of the rain would feel like stepping through sheets of glass, but Chase would choose to brave this hurricane with Alex tucked beside him rather than choose to walk in the sunlight alone for the rest of his existence.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled over the rush of the storm. “Why are you moving so slowly?”

  Was he? She squinted at him through the rain, flinching with each drop that struck her. He yanked at her arm, forcing her small body to fall toward him. He hunched over her, sheltering her. If he could help it, nothing would ever hurt her again.

  When they entered the Grandiuse and headed to their usual table, Jonas was grumbling in typical fashion. “You’d think Duvall would be happy that her students are so excited about one of her dumb plants for a change.”

  “No teachers are happy that students are so enthused to learn about banshees. It seems like they’re afraid we’re trying to fight them for some reason,” Kaleb said, flipping pages in his ABC text. “How gross were those pictures though? Is that what they really look like?”

  “They’re worse,” Jonas said. Alex took the seat opposite him, and he allowed his eyes to rest on her for longer than was necessary. She didn’t see it, but Chase did, as did Kaleb who snickered loudly.

  “How did you hold on for so long?” Gabe asked. “Darby told our class it was impossible.”

  Chase glanced at Alex and the ferocity of it caused the lamp above them to flicker like a strobe. He’d hated that he’d been so helpless that night. He’d seen the image of the banshee in her head like watching the scene through a one-way mirror, pounding his fists uselessly against the barrier.

  Alex’s dark eyes flashed in his direction. “He told my class that the banshee was really, really weakened. Dead on its feet. We got lucky.”

  “Jonas was lucky you threw him out of the way.” Kaleb chuckled. “What a knight in shining armor.”

  Poor Jonas. Chase opened his mouth to defend his brother, but Alex beat him to it. “He ran at it! If Jonas hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened. I didn’t even know what the thing was.”

  “I don’t need you to defend me,” Jonas snapped. “You were stupid to provoke it.”

  Alex pulled back from the sting of his verbal slap.

  Chase watched his brother’s eyes sweep back to Alex to observe the effect of his words. In Jonas’s mind, if Alex allowed his words to harm her, it meant she cared. This pleased Jonas. It was written on his face like a confession.

  Chase decided to pay him back. He inched his fingers closer to Alex’s on the table and intertwined his pinky with hers, an action that was as personal to Jonas as Chase kissing Alex square on the mouth. Consequently, the air around Jonas began to pop.

  “Calm down, Jo,” Gabe said under his breath.

  Skye Gossamer floated gracefully down the aisle and dropped her books next to Alex. She was oblivious to the eyes in the room that followed her like gravity. Her looks excused her peculiarity. “What are you guys talking about?”

  “Banshees,” Alex replied.

  Kaleb scooted closer to Skye. “What could possibly be bringing these suckers to California? There aren’t any swamps around here.”

  Skye scrutinized the small space Kaleb had left between them. “Do you need more room?” She asked innocently.

  Bewilderment struck his handsome face. He wasn’t used to such a reaction from the opposite sex. “No. Sorry.”

  “Maybe there are secret stashes of bladderwort growing in the river,” Jonas joked.

  Skye shook her head vigilantly. “Nope. It can be grown many places, but this climate doesn’t produce sufficient amounts.”

  “Why not?”

  “Duh, the plant is a carnivore. It needs those swamp bugs to survive.”

  Jonas snorted. “There are bugs everywhere! And who asked you to sit at our table?”

  “Who asked you?” Kaleb said, glaring at his brother.

  Skye lifted her chin. “The average temperature here is about sixty degrees. There are not that many bugs,” she replied, flipping her silky, red blanket of hair over her shoulder. “And do you think the bog plants could survive the snow we get here sometimes? Probably not.”

  “Okay, think about it. The banshees barely have brains!” Jonas insisted. “They can’t tell the difference between bog plants and pine trees!”

  “Sounds like someone we know.” Kaleb elbowed Chase and directed a smirk at Jonas.

  Chase didn’t reciprocate the thought. He was too busy watching the array of colors swarming his brother. Jonas had been so wound up recently that the air ticked around him, a bomb ready to detonate.

  “What are we doing in this climate if it’s so hard to function?” Jonas spread his arms wide in emphasis.

  “We sleep,” Alex reminded him.

  “And we need the protection,” Gabe added. “We can’t exactly hang out in the south with the banshees, but we needed some sort of consistent warmth and seclusion, hence the massive trees.”

  Kaleb was suddenly serious. “Reverting back to the subject of bog plants, I don’t buy that ‘out of stock’ ploy. I bet they just don’t want someone to pocket the plant and lure out a banshee.”

  Gabe shut his book with a bang. “No one would be that dumb.”

  Skye raised her eyebrows. “The school had plenty a month ago.”

  “What?” Jonas’ eyes were huge. “How do you know that?”

  “I’m in Duvall’s ABC Circle.”

  “Like a club?” Alex asked. “Ellington keeps urging me to join an organization. I wonder if that would work.”

  “Why do you think I know so much about plants and stones?”

  Jonas keeled over, clutching his stomach.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jonas’ body was shaking, but Chase knew his brother too well. He was laughing hysterically.

  “A club for alchemy?” He snorted. “And botany and chemistry? I’d rather cut off my arm.”

  “Oh leave her alone, Jonas,” Kaleb said.

  “You said yourself that teacher’s pets are eff—”

  Kaleb cut him off. “We don’t know him, Skye, I swear.”

  But he didn’t stop. “So, you’re one of the earthly, huh?”

  Skye gathered her hair to one side and braided it into a pretty, red coil. “The earthly? Please. Aren’t we past all these group stereotypes?”

  They would never grow past them. Stereotypes existed for a reason. Besides, Skye called herself a legacy, so she had little room to judge. Chase’s mind conjured images of glass houses and stones.

  Jonas grinned snidely, resting his chin on his fist. “Tell me, did you pre-order your Wicca for Dummies book?”

  Chase bit his lip to keep from smiling. Jonas could be obnoxious, sure, but Chase had always thought him to be the most entertaining of his brothers. H
e had admitted this to Jonas once, just once, because immediately following the compliment Jonas had snapped at Chase and insisted he was being ridiculed. Too many seeds of scorn had been planted within Jonas to make him ignore the bitterness that rooted him to his unhappiness.

  “When did they disappear?” Kaleb asked, trying to get back on track, or perhaps trying to turn Skye’s attention back to him. “The bladderwort flowers?”

  Skye shrugged. “All I know is that the shelves were stocked when Duvall did her intake in October. She did everything early to get ready for the haunted house.”

  Van Hanlin entered, pushing his arms to send an invisible jolt throughout the room. It was his way of telling them to end all conversation during study hall hours.

  Kaleb lowered his voice to a whisper. “So someone stole it,” he mused. “Who would want bait for banshees?”

  Who indeed. Chase only hoped that whoever it might be was finished with their experimentation.

  January 1867

  Dear Sephi,

  Though I do not regret what I did, I am severely sorry for disappointing you. I was able to convince the Patrol that the incident this morning was a misunderstanding that spiraled absurdly out of hand, but you and I both know differently. I’ve warned Paul Bond on numerous occasions to stay the hell away from you, and yet he refuses to obey. With hunters in the area, I can only imagine the Bonds are the family with which they’ve been communicating.

  It sounds like an excuse, but I do not remember anything after I lost control. It’s like a hole in my mind.

  A message reached me that Paul Bond will be released from the medical center today. Bully for him.

  I am afraid I’ll be held here in solitary for some time because I refuse to show off what I can really do. I won’t do what they ask. I won’t help them, not unless it will get me into the Ardor Service. I’ve had difficulty controlling myself. My thoughts explode only to burn more holes in my head. Where there are flames, however, there is power. I need to remind myself of this. I promise I will learn to channel the energy into use.

  Don’t you dare let them get to you while I’m gone.

  P.S. Since I’ve been here, I’ve heard several mentions of Paradise.

  January 1867

  Nothing much to do here in solitary except read. The selection is more extensive than I imagined. I have access to every book in the Grandiuse archives. I need only request it. I stumbled upon a book written anonymously by a gentleman who does covert work for the Service. I think perhaps it might secretly be the notorious Crete Reynes. The entire book is rather intriguing. I’ll have to get it to you somehow, but there’s a passage I would like to quote.

  “Few have seen it, but my eyes have borne witness to the quote etched in bloodstone on the wall: “Within the strongest spirit, one finds Paradise.” Those who reside in the underground city have the most powerful of minds. The location of the exclusive Paradise remains a mystery to most.”

  Paradise, Sephi. If we can live in a city so exclusive, maybe you can finally be safe. No one can hunt you in a hidden city.

  ***

  Skye Gossamer was not used to waiting. Even prior to her death, before she learned about her ancestry and its perks, doors opened for her willingly. In life, she’d been just as captivating as she was now. It wasn’t always a good thing. She’d captivated the wrong person, and it had led to her premature death.

  She’d had a very odd upbringing with her free-spirited parents and their communal life. The colony in which she’d lived housed several families with few rules. Perhaps if they’d realized this was the twenty-first century, if they’d accepted the fact that the world was not a safe place, and they needed locks on their doors, Skye would not have been attacked. She would not have been murdered.

  She tapped her foot now waiting outside of Alex’s door. They were going to be late for Duvall’s ABC gathering. “Are you ready?” she called.

  “Almost!” She heard from behind the door.

  Seriously, how long did it take to imagine oneself in an acceptable outfit? Finally, the door swung open to reveal a small black box in the entryway. Had the box itself opened the door? She shook her head to discard such a weird thought.

  She reached out to pet it, and it shut its lid with a bang. She didn’t like its vibe at all, so she avoided touching it when she entered the room.

  Alex’s clothes were slightly wrinkled. She must have overslept. Skye made a mental note to bring her friend some valerian root from Duvall’s storage room. That would calm her nerves. Alex seemed pretty high-strung.

  Alex twisted her hair into a bird’s nest of a bun even though her mind could have done it for her. “How do you manage that hair?”

  Skye dramatically ran her fingers through it. She knew her hair was stunning. “I never cut it, so my mind doesn’t know the difference, I guess. I did always want waves like yours though.”

  However, the way Alex's flyaway hair stuck out this morning, she wasn't so sure anymore.

  “Wait, you never cut your hair?”

  Skye shook her head. “My parents were hippies. Haircuts didn’t make the priority list.”

  “Hippies, huh?”

  “Technically, it’s communal living.” She held up two fingers. “Peace, love, and harmony.” She remembered her last day there and stifled a shudder. It was the furthest thing from peaceful. She hoped someone had cleaned her body well so she looked beautiful in her casket.

  She led the way across campus and into the school. They floated up the large center staircase and into Duvall’s ABC classroom, where several newburies chattered happily. She chuckled at Alex’s double-take while seeing the dozens of rows of glass test tubes and flasks sending wisps of perfumed vapor into the air.

  “I was expecting a cauldron,” Alex whispered.

  “It must be in the back.”

  Skye didn’t know why she bothered to formally introduce Alex to the others in the room. They already knew who she was. Between benches, banshees and Westfall’s orbs, Alex was well known. That didn’t mean other spirits weren’t wary of her, however. Being a strong spirit didn’t change the fact that the girl was a mystery. She had to be multigenerational, but no one knew her family history. She could be cursed like the Bonds or greedy like the Rellingsworths. The spiritual world deemed some families as rejects, and Brigitta was more cliquish than high school.

  She heard the office door slam behind them. Professor Duvall entered in her usual getup of shawls and beads, and intertwined within them was a thick yellow and white snake that arched its head into the air. A long red tongue rippled out of its scaly jaw, and Skye could have sworn it smiled at her. She smiled back.

  Duvall held up a sheet of paper littered with chicken-scratch of swirls and spirals, and flashed a wide grin at Alex. She winked at Skye and nodded her approval before turning to Whit, one of the group leaders. “Go ahead and take your team to the wormhole. I need you to fetch me some Kahuli.”

  “Ka-what-i?” Whit asked.

  “Sounds like an island,” said Linton, sliding off the desk to join Whit. He stood obediently, watching Duvall with avid interest. It was the only time Linton ever acted polite.

  “Actually, it is found on an island. Kahuli are tree snails found on Oahu.”

  Skye sensed her opportunity. “Professor, can Alex and I go with them, since she’s sort of observing today?”

  Duvall didn’t even look up. “Absolutely not. Alex needs to stay safe and sound in bounds.”

  Safe and sound? What did that mean? Duvall had never expressed concern before.

  Skye hated to feel dissatisfied. Like hunger, once it hit, it couldn’t be ignored. “But I got to tag along with Whit on my first day.”

  “Off to Oahu, my dears,” Duvall ordered, flicking her wrists with finality and ignoring Skye. “Aloha.”

  Skye crossed her arms. Too bad her charms had no effect whatsoever on the teachers.

  “Team two, Matthew, please take your group to the wormhole and head for the
National Zoo. We need the hairs of a baby polar bear, and the zoo just announced the birth of their newest addition. The younger, the better.”

  Matthew furrowed his brow. “They get Hawaii and we get the zoo?”

  “Would you rather chase them down in Antarctica?” Duvall remarked curtly. “Because I need the hairs by tomorrow, and it would probably take you two weeks to track down a baby polar bear in the wild, let alone get close enough to extract the hairs without upsetting the mommy.”

  Matthew relented. Skye patted him on the back, and his cheeks turned pink.

  When team two departed, Skye and Alex were the only students left with Duvall. “Now, my loves, I’m running low on Thymoserum.”

  Skye cocked her head. “What is that?”

  “It’s a combination of chemicals that function to trick a bodied mind.”

  This sounded fun. “To do what?”

  “To forget. Sometimes we need things, tangible things, and although the bodied can’t usually see us, we still have to be sure they can’t see the object we take. We can’t make the item invisible, but we can trick their bodied minds to make it seem so. Everything is mental, even sight. So, I need for you to go fetch me some banana slugs.”

  “Okay, how many?” Skye asked, extending her hand to pet the snake. It had a good temperament, but clearly Alex did not agree, because she recoiled against a cabinet when the snake stared at her openmouthed. The edges of its glistening fangs caught the light, and Skye directed a look of reprimand at the serpent.

  “At least ten,” Duvall replied. “I know it isn’t mentally enticing, but you work so quickly, and this really is the most important job of the day.”

  Skye tapped Alex on the shoulder and pointed upward. “Grab some of those.”

  “Those what?”

  “Test tubes.”

  “What test tubes?”

  Seriously? The girl could fight off a banshee, but she refused to open her eyes. Skye stretched up high to strum her fingers along the bottoms of the thousands of tubes suspended from the ceiling. They clinked together and began a ripple effect throughout the room, like wind over a wheat field. “You really need to start looking for things.”