by K. Gorman
She counted to twenty and turned back, shaking from adrenaline.
The elevator’s square of light was hazy from smoke. Inside, the sprinkler had come on. The air glinted with falling water. Three new occupants showed up. One lay sprawled on the threshold. The door tried to close on him. The other two slipped away into the dark, fire still burning on their clothes.
She watched them move.
Her left shoulder stung. Pressing her right hand on it, she turned back toward the dark.
Now, where was the ship?
She lined up the light of the elevator and estimated the distance. She kept her eyes on the tiny flames that moved on the other side.
Crack-a-tat!
Muzzle-flare flashed ahead of her. She flinched back. On the other side, the two walking flames had dropped.
Ears ringing, she froze in the darkness. Dots of retinal burn flashed in her vision. She had a sneaking suspicion that muzzle-flare had been next to the ship. Removing her hand from her shoulder, she held it out in front of her and edged closer.
It missed. Her forehead smacked on something hard. Biting back a swear, she reached up and felt something hard and glass-smooth. Part of the ship?
A voice whispered to her right.
“Meese?”
Jo?
She squinted into the dark, for all the good it did her. Feeling her way along the silent ship, she wandered closer.
“I see you brought us some presents,” whispered the voice. “Christmas has been good.”
Definitely Jo.
“I thought only Roger hung out in the dark,” Mieshka said.
“We have our moments.” Buck’s voice rumbled beside Jo’s.
By the curve of the metal, she suspected she had found the front edge of the wing. She followed it to its joint. “I’m going to get the crystal. Be careful. One of them puts up a mean illusion.”
“Is that the guy on the floor?”
She looked back. “Aren’t they all on the floor?”
“True. What did he look like?”
Asking that of an illusionist?
“Glasses. Brown hair. He wasn’t soldiery.”
“‘Soldiery’?”
“You know what I mean.” She splayed her hand on the ship’s side like Aiden had. The door’s hiss seemed loud. The running lights reflected in two sets of eyes beside her.
The door closed behind her.
***
HELLO MIESHKA.
Her heart tripped. There was only one screen, its orange glow lighting up the black console like Halloween. The pilot’s seat cut into the bottom edge in silhouette. The running lights underlit everything with a matching ghostly cast.
Sneakers tapping on the grating, she took small steps forward. Despite the shake in her legs, adrenaline had spiked into them again. She was ready to run.
Run where? The door was closed.
Standing behind the chair, a hand sliding over its back, she pushed the fear away. All she had to do was retrieve a crystal.
Easy, right?
The message changed.
HAVE A SEAT.
The light popped on above the chair. It warmed her arm.
She laughed. A hollow laugh. Dust motes floated through it, glowing. It looked almost sacred.
“Last time I sat, you tried to possess me. Forcibly.”
Something clicked like her computer’s hard-drive. She glanced at the keyboard. She hoped it could hear her. There was no way she’d figure out those symbols.
A new message appeared. Apparently it could.
SORRY, it said.
Could it feel regret? Aiden had said they were sentient.
I WANT TO BE FREE.
Mieshka leaned over her arms, shoulder throbbing as she put her weight into the chair. The transfer glowed on her hand. After this was done, she’d never need it again. That was a kind of freedom.
“I’ve come to take you away.”
The text switched instantly.
YOU WANT ME TO FIND MY SISTERS.
“Yes.” She assumed ‘sisters’ meant the other crystals.
The screen went blank. Meese, with a cautious look to the light, slumped over the back of the chair, folding her arms around the headrest.
“How would possessing me make you free?”
I WOULD EXIST WITHOUT THE CRYSTAL. I WOULD BE FREE.
The crystal was a prison?
“I will die some day.”
EVERYTHING DIES.
Mieshka knew that all too well.
She slumped further, staring at the message. Sinking her head onto her arms, she felt the soft cotton of her sleeves. Smoke lingered in the fabric.
PLEASE SIT.
She did not move. They were alone. There was no one here to impress. No one here to disapprove or worry. She could allow a little weakness. A little honesty. Soon, the crystal would be inseparable from her.
That’s about as personal as it got.
She said, “I am afraid.”
Quiet. The screen went blank. Clicking returned, deep within the console. Words appeared.
I WILL BE YOUR ELEMENT. I WILL LIGHT YOUR DARK. I WILL BURN ALL YOU FEAR.
Her throat closed around the feeling. The message blurred as she squinted her eyes shut. She pressed the heel of her hand against her head, staying that way.
Through her eyelids, she saw the light change.
The message shortened.
I WILL BE YOUR ELEMENT.
She stared. Wiping at a loose tear, she pushed herself up. Her legs shook as she walked around the chair, grating catching at her soles. Light sank into her hand as it trailed the chair’s arm.
Mieshka sat down.
Heat pulsed. She forced herself to relax. Her forgotten finger injury throbbed as she curled her fingers around the chair’s arm. Warmth seeped into her skin.
Feathers touched her hand. As the fire’s orange began to line her body, the screen went dark. Mieshka closed her eyes.
There was no urgency this time. No need for speed. They were alone. The Phoenix’s power slid into her like sand in an hourglass. Sunlight pulsed from her skin. Soon, her whole body was tingling. For a moment, it concentrated on her hand.
She opened her eyes. The transfer mark burned from her skin. Ink rose into the air as smoke. There was no pain. The Phoenix settled into her shoulders like a warm jacket.
The ship went dark. Power slammed into her.
She gasped, pulling her hands to her side. Her hurt shoulder throbbed at the movement, reminding of her close call in the elevator. Heat slid around her. She shook with power. The Phoenix lingered within her mind, its fire shifting through her thoughts.
She was not afraid. Instead, she felt giddy. Was this what alcohol felt like? Her breath came hot. Her bones were warm. Lyarne’s winter would not touch her. She could never be cold again.
Using the dead console for leverage, she stood. The pain faded from her shoulder. It felt like the heat had healed it. Around her, the ship was dark and quiet. With a thought, fire flicked onto her fingertips.
It tickled. Its orange glow gave her hand a healthy colour.
The grating clicked under her feet. Using the light, she pushed her hand against the door. The Phoenix opened it for her.
“How’d it go?” Jo’s voice carried over the room.
By the elevator, Mieshka saw her silhouette. Two figures slumped next to her. The guy over the threshold hadn’t moved. Smoke still hazed the light. Mieshka could smell it from the ship.
“I got it,” she said. Fire followed the thought, darting over the back of her hand.
She dropped down to the floor, examining her new power. There was a lot of it. More than she’d ever touched through the transfer. Like comparing a garden hose to a dam. She wasn’t playing with matches. She had the Sun.
Mieshka walked to the elevator. As she got closer, the man in the doorway moved. Glasses glinted in the light. The illusionist.
Jo stood between them, a serious-looking gun casually pointe
d at him. He appeared to be bleeding.
Jo followed her gaze.
“Hard to make a spell with a bullet in your leg.”
Not for Mieshka. She could burn the world now.
“What shall we do with them?” Jo asked. Buck moved in the dark to her right, watching the other two men. There was a dark mark on the ground, streaking toward the soldiers.
Blood, she realized. Her hand flew to her hair.
“Meese?” She glanced up. Buck and Jo both watched her. “What should we do with them?”
They were asking her? Who the hell left Mieshka in charge?
The Phoenix took her attention, reaching out. Fire called to fire, and it showed her a direction. Like a magnet, she knew where the crystals were.
She evaluated the situation.
“I can find the crystals, but it would be faster if we had an address.” She rounded on the illusionist, who glared at her through his glasses.
Heat shivered between them.
“Address?”
“Fuck you.”
Jo kicked him.
He yelled, rolling away. It turned to a whimper as the elevator door tried to close on him. The light caught on blistered skin. She wondered how much she had burned.
Mieshka stepped closer, steeling her face. A lot of people were counting on her. She knelt down, a casual flame slipping over her knuckle. She hoped it hid the shaking in her hand.
“Your people killed my mother. I don’t have a lot of patience.”
He watched the fire. Mieshka saw his Adam’s apple dip as he swallowed.
“1254 21st Street North, Cyprios Building.”
Buck stirred. “Should we leave him here?”
Mieshka eyed the blood on his leg. Guylian cringed away from her.
“There will be soldiers up there. I think I can take them out. One of you goes up with me first. After, the other brings these three up. The hospital will find them that way.” And Guylian won’t be alone with the ship. An unprotected ship. Not that he was capable of much right now. Mieshka doubted he could even move.
Mieshka stepped onto the elevator. Water rippled from her feet. It smelled of smoke. The walls were streaked with spray. Above her head was a bullet hole. Mieshka eyed it as Jo stepped in with her.
Guylian yelled as Buck pulled him off the threshold. The door closed. The elevator began its ascent. After a minute, Mieshka broke the silence.
“Why are you two letting me lead?”
Jo shrugged. “You haven’t fucked up yet.”
Mieshka raised an eyebrow. Where had she been these past few hours?
“I led the enemy to the last crystal.”
“And figured out how to get rid of them.” Jo shifted her weight, adjusting a strap of her harness. She was armed to the teeth. “Besides, they would have come anyway. Don’t take a genius to figure it out.”
True. Even Robin knew where the ship was.
“Still, I—”
“You’re what? You’re sixteen? You’ve got decent ideas. I’d point them out if you didn’t. Now—” Jo looked up, as though thinking. “This takes three minutes from top to bottom. Which means we have about eight minutes without Buck’s help, if we include loading time and the time it takes it to pause and go again. How’s your firepower?”
Mieshka flexed it. Water hissed at her feet, rising as steam.
“I think I can burn bullets now.”
“Focus on burning people first.”
“Okay.”
“But don’t burn me. Got it?”
“I think so.”
***
Mieshka shivered. She wasn’t cold.
Could she really set someone on fire? Technically, she’d done it before. Guylian could vouch for that. She thought of his blistered skin, his scream as Buck dragged him away. She was responsible for that.
But she hadn’t seen him. For all her suspicions, she had set fire to an empty room. The soldiers upstairs wouldn’t be invisible. This seemed more premeditated.
Maybe she could close her eyes.
Jo positioned herself next to the door, back to the console, assault rifle in her arms. As Mieshka watched, the former soldier slid down into a crouch. They exchanged a look.
“Reflection,” Jo said, indicating the water-streaked aluminum. How far had the fire alarm gone? Would the soldiers above be alerted? How many soldiers did it take to escort a potential Mage like her?
Fire burned in her heart. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be enough.
“Almost time. You okay?”
Mieshka didn’t answer. These people had invaded her city, she reminded herself. She thought of her mom.
Anger resurfaced.
“Ready,” she said.
Ding!
The elevator door rolled. Two soldiers stood in the light. Their guns gleamed. Big, serious-looking guns.
Like that’d help them.
She blasted them into the wall. One got a shot off. It kicked into the black wall beside her. Her ears rang.
Jo turned past her, darting through the remnants of the fire. She delivered a swift kick to their gun-arms and another to their heads. As Mieshka stepped out, they slumped. The elevator door closed behind her, trapping out the light. The memorial was dark. The names burned no more.
She had taken away its power source, hadn’t she?
In the black, she heard movement. Jo pushed her along the corridor. They couldn’t stay in one spot.
Mieshka focused, feeling her fear shake her hands. This was real, wasn’t it? Movement was all around them. Soldiers trying to be quiet in combat boots. It was a game of Marco Polo. Mieshka felt sick. She strained to hear over the fountain.
Fountain? Water was just hydrogen and oxygen, right? She’d learned that in science. At a thought, the Phoenix flexed its wings.
Fire guttered briefly on the water, reflecting its surface like a cool prism.
Crack!
The bullet smacked the water. The fire sputtered out.
Jo gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Mieshka felt dumb. Trying again, she focused elsewhere.
A will o’ wisp crackled into the center of the room, big as a bonfire. Heat burned blue at its core. It glittered in the eyes of the enemy.
Ten at least.
She reached for more fire. It was not subtle. There was no fine control. Raw, it touched her soul like a sun. Power flooded her.
The soldiers lit like kindling.
They screamed.
She jerked at the noise, but Jo was already pulling her along. Shots fired, bullets biting into concrete. The room was not dark anymore. Monsters danced in the firelight, claws and teeth outlined in flickering shadow. Angry. Aggressive. Screams echoed. Mieshka tried to block them out.
At the entrance, three men barred their path. When she saw them, they burned too. Their screams joined the others. The path was clear.
Jo pressed close to her ear. “We need one to confirm what the illusionist said.”
Mieshka blew out the fire on one. Jo grabbed him as Mieshka turned the corner. She dragged him down the entrance hall, down the steps, and slumped him against a security gate.
Mieshka blinked in the sudden light. Her hands shook badly now. She almost fell down the stairs. An announcement crackled up the hallway. The screams had grown muffled. Looking back, she saw the orange light flicker on the slate walkway.
It had been so easy.
Her throat closed. Hugging herself, she focused on Jo.
“Who do you work for?” Jo was saying. The soldier’s face was red. Smoke rose from his uniform. He stared at Mieshka, eyes wide. He was also shaking.
Jo wasn’t shaking.
“Burn unit’s going to be full tonight,” the former soldier remarked. “But I’m sure she could fit you in.”
The man took her meaning.
“Cyprios Corp.”
Mieshka steeled herself. There was a job to do.
“Not what the other guy said.” Jo lied. “Maybe you don’t need your finge
rs. What do you think, Mieshka?”
What? Mieshka steeled herself, thinking of interrogation scenes.
“Maybe,” she squeaked.
The man’s eyes went wider.
“No, I’m telling the truth! Big tall building—”
Jo didn’t even blink. “He right-handed or left-handed, do you think?”
“It’s on 21st! I can show you, please! I—”
“He held the gun with his right. Could do it Yakuza style, joint by joint?” Jo’s voice was hard.
“No!” He grabbed his hands to his chest. Which might not have been the best idea, since Mieshka was threatening to set them on fire.
“I think he’s telling the truth,” Mieshka said.
“I am!”
“Yep.” Jo hit him with the butt of her gun. He slumped further down the wall.
Standing, Jo fixed her with a look.
“You okay?”
Mieshka glanced away. The screams had stopped. Her lip trembled. A tear streaked down her cheek.
“They’re still burning.”
Jo’s eyes softened. She took Mieshka’s shoulder and led her back.
“It’s okay. You can fix that.”
Darkness fell over them. Mieshka smelled smoke. As they walked up the entrance hallway, Jo squeezed her shoulder. “I’m right here.”
They turned the corner. Mieshka pulled up short.
The memorial looked preternatural. Clumps of fire clung to the floor. Pillars were silhouetted against the dim, flickering orange light. Downed men lay still on the floor. Motion caught her eye. The smart ones had gone for the fountain.
There wasn’t much to put out. It was quiet.
She felt sick.
People had noticed them in the doorway. One raised a gun. Mieshka flinched.
Jo shot him. Mieshka felt the recoil smash through her. The man fell with a yell.
“Anyone else?” Jo asked, her sarcasm echoing in the room. “Throw your weapons in the middle and line up against the fountain.”
By the time Buck arrived, there was a pile of guns, grenades and knives. Jo helped him drag the other three around.
Mieshka stood in front of the burnt soldiers, hugging herself. Buck raised an eyebrow when he saw her.
“You okay?”
No, Mieshka thought. She didn’t say anything. He nodded. Maybe he’d seen something in her face.
Jo strutted up the line, twirling a confiscated knife in her fingers.
“Took you long enough. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 14
Steam curled up from the cup. Robin gripped it in both hands. Across from her, Chris had a similar cup. With the heat soaking into her hand, the above-ground rain seemed distant.