Into the Fire (The Mieshka Files, Book One)

by K. Gorman

  Yet, she said inwardly to herself. She wasn’t going to make any promises on the next Underground mob that hunted her. Especially not with a Phoenix inside her.

  Her dad didn’t speak. After a while, he swallowed and reached under his glasses to rub his eye.

  “I guess if you were, you wouldn’t be coming to me for permission to skip class.”

  That was logical.

  “I suppose not,” she said, wondering where this was going.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. You can skip class tomorrow. Don’t forget to get your homework. And don’t burn anything important.”

  He moved back to his room. The door dragged across the carpet when he opened it, and dragged across when he closed it.

  She stared at it. The light underneath moved for a minute, then settled into a steady pattern.

  Okay, she thought.

  She found some leftovers in the fridge and retreated to her room. Looked at herself in front of the mirror. Yep, that bruise was starting to show.

  A glint of light on her dresser caught her eye. She picked up her mother’s dog tag, feeling the beaded metal chain between her fingers. She waited for the room to get blurry.

  It didn’t. No tears, no nothing.

  She didn’t smile.

  She ate dinner cross-legged on her bed. After, she half-heartedly picked through her math book.

  When she climbed into bed, she fell asleep quickly. It had been a long time since she’d done that, and an even longer time since she’d done so on a dry pillow.

  CHAPTER 10

  Gravity seemed stronger here. Whether it was the residual earth magic of the place, a minor objection to it by his fire element, or all in his head, he wasn’t sure. It made all the hairs on his neck stand up.

  They were trespassing. That’s what Aiden felt as he walked back into the Earth Mage’s home.

  People normally used garbage to bury old cities. Lyarne had shortened a mountain. Aiden felt it press on him.

  If Roger or Jo felt the same, they didn’t show it. They both fanned out, quietly going opposite ways. Aiden paused at the end of the first hallway, trying to pinpoint his unease.

  The Earth Mage had converted the bottom two floors of an apartment building to suit his needs. It created a long, narrow, open-concept home that he’d filled with rich-looking paintings, gleaming mahogany woodwork—salvaged from older Underground houses, by their look—and book cases on half the walls. Behind one Maanai-backed, book-filled case was a secret door to the engine room.

  Aiden couldn’t tell where the original apartments had been divided, except for one Michael had kept as a spare bedroom.

  Aiden’s eyes lingered on the front door. Except for the odd delivery, Michael never had company, as far as Aiden knew. Aiden had asked about it once. And immediately regretted it.

  “Loneliness is preferable,” the Earth Mage had said, a cultivated sneer in his accent. The man was older than Aiden, which apparently made him feel more entitled. Aiden’s question had been spawned out of worry. There had been a lot of deaths to get over. Grief can do things to people.

  Apparently, it made the Earth Mage a lonely old prick.

  Aiden pushed the thought from his mind, focusing on the task. He and Sophia had gone through his apartment just after his disappearance, but their search had been cursory. This time, Aiden had brought a toy.

  He swiped the surface of the same magic detector that had located Mieshka, watching the orange light follow his thumb. A screen rolled up from the top edge, glowing translucently in the comfortable lighting of the Earth Mage’s home.

  An Underground building was easily defensible for someone who could move earth. He had no doubts Michael had reinforced it, too. It was worrying that the man had apparently been defeated without a fight.

  Sophia was right. Someone knew what they were doing.

  Aiden supressed a shiver and moved into the study area. Two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves blocked it off from the rest of the open floor. A curtain covered the bricked-up window on the wall. A computer sat on a desk whose wood matched the mahogany accents around every door. Opposite it, a tan-coloured banister led the stairs to the second floor's overhanging hallway. It created a nook with a clouded-ivory coloured couch and a glass coffee table. Behind that was the bookcase to the engine room.

  A cold cup of coffee rested on a coaster. It looked like the Earth Mage had just gone on a grocery-run.

  “He has a son, doesn’t he?” Jo leaned her shoulder against a bookcase, the white, bandaged blob of her right hand drifting to where her holster normally sat.

  “Yes. Somewhere. Poor kid.”

  Kid might be an understatement. If Aiden recalled correctly, the boy had been seven when they had crossed over. Now, he’d be twenty-five. He pitied him. The Earth Mage was a hard person. From what he’d heard, the son kept far away. Aiden didn’t blame him.

  He flicked a hand over the detector he held, watching the screen flick out of the top as if it had always been there. He sent a query out, redefining the parameters of its search.

  “Man, I don’t think I could keep my place this clean. Do you think he was expecting company?”

  “No.”

  The detector beeped in his hand. He skimmed through the information. Frowned.

  There was still magic in the air. An odd thing, since the Earth Mage had been gone for a week.

  “Roger?”

  “Yes?”

  Roger leaned over the balcony like he’d never left. Jo looked up from where she had been browsing the bookcase.

  “You didn’t use magic here, did you?”

  “Haven’t used since yesterday.”

  The magic was more recent than that. Aiden looked around again, as if maybe he could see it.

  “Well someone has. Still is, actually.” And it remained stubbornly invisible.

  Invisible. An illusion? His blood stopped. Illusionists had been rare in his old world. They’d messed with the Light element. Who knew what facsimile the new world would create.

  “Where is it?”

  He moved the detector around, confirming his theory.

  “Everywhere. Get down here.”

  As Roger complied, Aiden pulled on his element. Fire-hot symbols ran down his arms. Nue, Argath, Malbroch. Old names, old words.

  They’d do the trick.

  The detector’s display flared as he gathered the spell. He handed it to Jo without a word. This required both hands.

  The room dimmed around him. He concentrated, brushing metaphorical dust off the spells he’d learned in school. He closed his eyes, pouring more and more power into the spell. Those three names multiplied, attracted other old names to run through his skin.

  He took a slow breath, and they flowed from him to the room, running down the walls, the floor, through the air itself. Like code from the Matrix. He smelled smoke in the air.

  Jo shifted beside him. Roger was quiet.

  Too bad they were used to magic. He missed the early days. Still, they should have been impressed. It wasn’t everyone who could pull down an illusion.

  His arms shook. He felt as if he’d just stepped out of the sun. His head felt lighter. That pressure was gone.

  As the symbols faded, he looked around. Took in the changes. There were quite a few of them.

  Jo broke the silence.

  “Well, I guess there was a fight.”

  ***

  Robin sat alone in the crowded cafeteria, ignoring the shouts and laughter and the clacking of trays around her. The back of her chair poked her spine and her butt kept sliding over the chair’s worn-smooth seat. Light glared through the high windows to her back, not helping the sharp pulse of her headache. She poked through her macaroni with a fork. Part of it had congealed.

  Her teeth gritted together.

  Comfort was lacking today.

  Two trays clacked down in front of her. She glanced up, took in Chris and Meese, and immediately forgot
her discomfort.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  Chris had a shiner around his left eye. Red veins crowded toward the iris. His lip was swollen and split, newly congealed blood coated the edge.

  Meese looked slightly better. Her chin had a splotchy purple-green bruise, and her finger had a neat white bandage around it. Meese’s jaw tightened as she stiffly lowered herself down.

  Robin looked between them.

  “Did you get into a fight…with each other?”

  They glanced at each other.

  “No,” Chris said. He slumped over his food. Today he wore a black t-shirt with a band insignia. Meese had switched to a different hoodie. The orange hair was pulled back, though some had caught under the straps of her backpack.

  Robin waited. Meese glanced at Chris again.

  “We’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell. There’s some serious stuff.”

  “Stuff we could both be expelled for,” Chris added around a mouthful of macaroni.

  Robin held Meese’s stare. Despite the soreness, Meese didn’t seem as tired as usual. Her brown eyes were sharp and bright.

  This story promised to be good.

  “I promise,” Robin said.

  Meese nodded, pierced some macaroni with her fork, and began.

  She told Robin about an underground city where the refugees live. She told her about the Water and Earth Mage’s kidnapping. She told her about the crystals and the shields. She ended with the chase through the underground shopping mall.

  Robin sat back, ignoring the discomfort of the chair. She realized her mouth was open.

  What the hell was Meese on? Lyarne was a boring city. Nothing happened in Lyarne. Nothing like this. Robin’s eyes dropped to the bandaged finger. That’s where Meese had cut her hand. And the bruise on her chin. The injuries all fit.

  But it wasn’t possible. There was no secret underground city. And the shield was fine.

  Robin didn’t believe it. Except the two of them seemed serious.

  Chris half-listened. Like he’d heard this before. Was this some kind of joke?

  Meese cleared her throat. Robin realized she hadn’t said anything for a few minutes.

  “So, the Fire Mage just teleported in and stopped a bullet? Did he teleport you back out?”

  “No,” Meese said. “We walked.”

  That was all she said. But her face said otherwise.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  Robin raised an eyebrow. Meese was lying.

  “So you just went home after?”

  “Yes.”

  Again, Meese held her stare. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to tell Robin.

  A chirp interrupted them. Meese pulled at her phone and glanced at the screen.

  “Shit,” she said, and started shovelling macaroni into her mouth.

  “What?”

  “I have to go,” she said between bites.

  “Now?” Lunch was nearly over.

  “Yeah.”

  Chris was quiet. Robin watched as Meese, mouth full, scooped up her backpack and left. A limp hitched her to the left.

  As the cafeteria door closed after her, Robin realized her mouth was open again. She closed it and turned to Chris, who was still eating.

  “What was that about?”

  “Something to do with the Mage.”

  She studied him. He wasn’t meeting her eyes. He’d been with Meese. Underground. Supposedly. It had been their date.

  Time to get to the bottom of this.

  “Tell me more about this ‘Underground’.”

  ***

  It didn’t rain, it poured.

  Buck nosed the SUV through traffic. Water pelted down the windscreen, teeming so hard onto the street there was a mist-like back-splash two feet high. It never rained in Lyarne. The city couldn’t handle it.

  Mieshka’s thoughts returned to the Underground.

  “Hey, Buck,” she said.

  Buck glanced over from the driver’s seat. His window wavered with water.

  “If the Underground was buried because of flooding, did the Water Mage stop that problem?”

  “She did.”

  “So, with her gone…would the water come back?” She looked pointedly outside. Buildings were shrouded from the deluge.

  “It’s already started.”

  “Could Roger stop it?”

  “No. He can’t do Mage spells.”

  Interesting. Shouldn’t she be the same as him? If new-world magic couldn’t do the spells, how was she supposed to track the crystals?

  Maybe Aiden had an answer. Or the Phoenix.

  Her jaw tensed at the thought. Everything happened too fast. Last week, she’d been a normal girl. Well, maybe not a normal girl. A normal refugee girl. There was a difference in this city.

  “Roger creeps me the hell out.”

  The SUV nudged forward a car length. Farther up the congested street, the traffic light turned red. The rain gave it a halo.

  “Roger creeps everyone the hell out.”

  Buck had returned to staring through the flooded windscreen. His face was blank, but she saw the corner of his lip twitch.

  She grinned, warming her hand in front of the heat vent.

  It took them half an hour to reach Aiden’s office.

  ***

  Mieshka’s feet squelched on the linoleum. It was colder in here than the car.

  Soon, she’d never be cold again. The Phoenix would see to that.

  She pushed the thought from her mind. Buck kept pace with her as she limped up the stairs.

  Jo sat on a couch beside a crutch. Gun parts lay on the coffee table in front of her. With her bandaged hand, Jo had difficulty cleaning the part on her lap.

  Perhaps feeling Mieshka’s stare, Jo looked up from her work. Mieshka dropped her backpack by the door, and her wet hoodie on top of it. It dripped onto the floor.

  Aiden sat behind the desk in the corner, the glow lighting his face. His eyes looked more bagged than yesterday.

  “It’ll be a while. I have to swap the program on my engine,” Aiden said. “It’s taking longer than I thought.”

  Mieshka joined Jo on the couch. Jo didn’t look up.

  “Wet out?” The stiff wire brush looked awkward in Jo’s hand.

  “You’re right-handed, aren’t you?”

  “Good guess.” Jo moved the brush across the metal. Oil shined on the surface. The movement was as stiff as the bristles. Watching them, Mieshka formed a plan.

  “Me, too.”

  Mieshka slowly dried. The Fire Mage had interior heating. They sat in silence.

  When it came time to reassemble the gun, Jo swore softly. She leveraged parts against her thigh as she tried to slide them back together.

  Mieshka perked up. This is what she had been waiting for.

  “Here,” she said, “let me.”

  Jo raised an eyebrow. Mieshka met her stare. After a moment, Jo moved her hand back.

  Aware of being watched, Mieshka took the pieces from Jo’s lap, glanced them over, and slid them together.

  “Next is…” Mieshka had already picked it up from the table. The bruise on her hand made it awkward to push into place.

  Jo settled back and watched as Mieshka reassembled the gun, piece by piece. When she was done, she put it back in Jo’s lap, muzzle turned toward the door.

  Silence. Jo picked it up and examined it. “Thought you didn’t like guns.”

  “I’m getting over it.”

  Behind them, she heard: “Where did you learn that?”

  Aiden and Buck stared at her over the monitor.

  “My mom.” At their stunned looks, she continued. “She was going to teach me to shoot, but she never had time.”

  She saw them process the past tense.

  Jo slid the gun into its holster. “I’m sure we can find time to teach you.”

  “But not today.” Aiden stood up, squeezing past Buck. “We need to talk, Meese.”<
br />
  Was everyone using her nickname now? She stood up, her still-damp shoes squeaking on the linoleum as she moved around the coffee table. Her skin prickled as she followed Aiden to the engine room.

  Inside, static snapped over her hand. The air was heavier than she remembered. The pulse of energy reverberated in her chest.

  “It’s working harder now. Before, the shield’s program was spread out over all three crystals. Now, one crystal works for the whole city. Just like Terremain’s.”

  She caught his eye. Terremain’s shield didn’t work very well. The suburbs had been evacuated when the bombs tore through their streets. Terremain’s population was crowded into the core area. When the raids came, everyone squished into the bomb shelters.

  In Lyarne, the shelters remained empty.

  Aiden was silhouetted against the screen. Orange limned him.

  It was very dim in there. Aiden still hadn’t replaced the bulb. In the light of things, she didn’t blame him.

  Energy crackled through her transfer mark. It slid up her skin, warming her bones. The air thickened around her. She had the impression of something large in the room with them. It brushed against her, omnipresent, with a warmth similar to that of Aiden’s ship. She shivered as it pressed close in her chest, remembering eyes like ash staring at her soul.

  Aiden plunked himself down in front of the screen and slid a USB key into the console. The screen filled with data. He gestured to the left.

  “There’s a chair somewhere.”

  She found it against the wall, its painted aluminum vaguely reflecting the orange glow. Carrying it over, she winced as the metal dug into her hand.

  “Okay, so. Before we transfer the Phoenix into you, I thought I’d run you through what’s going to happen. And the basics of controlling an element.”

  Mieshka leaned forward in her chair, stretching the muscles in her shoulders. Energy beat all around her. The transfer mark made her hand fall asleep. She’d been careful to wash around it this morning.

  At her silence, Aiden continued. “So, you’ve already experienced a partial transfer. The full transfer will be the same. The ship will lock you into the chair again. It’s paranoid like that. Those lines will come back, they act as a, well—psychically, everyone has a spirit form. Whenever you dream, you use it. That psychic form is connected to your physical form at certain points on the body. The lines represent a system that hijacks that link.

  “Normally, this is so a human can chat directly with the interface of a computer. In your case however, you’re like…” he trailed off.

  “A USB key?” Mieshka supplied helpfully, looking at the one glinting on the console.