by India Arden
“That’s an awesome idea,” Zephyr said. “Except we’re so settled in there, it would take ages to wipe out all our traces. Not to mention fingerprints, hairs…I dunno about you, but I’ve got doubts as to how long the Bonding’s gonna hold. A subjective hour or two? Maybe. But not days.”
Rain paused beside one of the cops and looked into his eyes. The guy was maybe our age. Clean shaven. Serious. “These are just people—innocent people—doing their jobs.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “And I wouldn’t put it past the Arcane Masters to slit their throats and leave the bodies bundled up by the pool, but that’s not who we are.”
Zephyr quickly agreed. “Plus, if anything happened to these guys, they’d only send more.”
While I don’t spitball as effectively as Zephyr, three ideas clicked together in my mind so seamlessly, it was as if they’d Bonded inside my mind. We needed to convince them there was nothing to see here. Bloodshed was unacceptable. And we were not the Arcane Masters.
I ventured, “How credible do you think Sidehustle would seem if he were to lead a SWAT team out into a weedy parking lot and then disappear?” The rest of the group nodded sagely. “And what if an Arcane Master’s sigil was scorched into the earth directly where he’d been standing?”
Sterling broke into a real smile. “I’d pay good money to see that. After such a clear message from the Arcane Asscracks to stop meddling around this neighborhood, anyone with half a brain would back off.”
Zephyr added, “And I can’t imagine anyone giving Torch a call and saying, ‘Oh, by the way, could you clarify what you meant by incinerating that police informant?’”
“If we’re agreed,” I said, “then let’s get to it. The Bonding’s starting to feel a little itchy already.” And that dark, feathery web stuff was starting to gather on my shoes.
“Aye,” they all said. And then Sterling calmly unbuckled his watch from Sidehustle’s wrist. Together, we trooped back to the warehouse to grab a dolly. None of us were particularly keen to touch Sidehustle, none of us but Sterling, who was happy enough to go through all his pockets. Sterling pulled out a canned air. “Last one, my ass.” He stuck it in his pocket, along with some white out and a silver marker.
While the other guys strapped Sidehustle onto the dolly, I visualized the elemental sigil for Fire. Funny, how protective I felt about it. No one knew it glowed on my chest, no one but the rest of my Tetrad and Aurora. As far as the public was concerned, the diamond-in-diamond glyph was the family crest of the House of Fire. Nothing to do with Edward from the burn crew. And yet, it wasn’t just mine, it was me. As much as the name Ember. As much as my whole concept of self.
But for the greater good, I’d have to take one for the team. Even if it amounted to signing my name to an apparent murder.
I closed my eyes, focused, and felt the Arcana stir. The closest comparison I had was adrenaline, but the rush of Arcane power was so much more. There’s a certain rightness to it, as if I’d been born to channel the aspect. As if I’d finally become who I was always meant to be.
Arcane energy sizzled through my being. I felt it leap from my hand to the ground. And if we hadn’t been in the Otherwise, the ropy weeds would have gone up in a heartbeat. But not here, where time flowed like cooling tar. I felt the kinetic energy hit the ground, but it didn’t spark. I squatted and touched the turf. Would I need to physically dig the symbol into the ground? I was no artist. I couldn’t trust myself to do it without the result looking like amateur hour. But when my fingertips brushed the dead grass, I knew Fire had touched it. Dormant. But ready to spring to life outside the Otherwise.
“What the…?” Sterling pulled a pair of leopard print panties from Sidehustle’s pocket, looked down his nose at them, then shoved them back where they’d come from.
“Make sure you leave him enough cash for a train ticket,” I said. “Our old buddy here is going for a little ride.”
The train station was just over a mile away. We tried to start a car but the engine wouldn’t turn over. No combustion, but at least we had the dolly. We took turns pushing. At first it was fun to wander between the stopped traffic and marvel at the frozen figures all around us. But eventually, it just felt creepy as an indescribable fatigue began threading into our awareness. We didn’t discuss it. But I could tell by the way Rain massaged the back of his neck and Zephyr went quiet that none of us were in good shape.
We didn’t discuss the webby black stuff either, but it was thicker now, impossible to miss, pulling at the wheels of the dolly and grasping at our feet.
“Do we just put him on a random train?” Zephyr asked.
“Too public,” I said. “Besides, we’ll need to find somewhere I can give him a good talking to first.” Unfortunately, a train station at midday isn’t exactly big on privacy. We wheeled the traitor all around the station looking for an out-of-the-way nook where five guys appearing out of thin air would go unnoticed, but no luck. The fatigue had grown thick, and it took a distracting amount of effort to stay anchored in the Otherwise. Like holding half a breath when you’re thirsty for air.
Zephyr had never been much for marathons—he was more of a sprinter. “Uh, guys?” he said shakily. I turned to look just as the color drained out of him, and he froze mid-thought.
Sterling took in the milling crowd around him. “Well. This’ll give ’em all a story to tell their grandkids.”
Rain turned to a scowling businessman looking directly at the spot Zephyr had frozen to, and tentatively took hold of his head. It moved. He tilted the businessman’s gaze toward the ground, then shook off his hands as if he’d touched something unpalatable. “Good,” I said, “good. Do that. It’ll feel like a blink, a tic, hopefully nothing they’d notice.”
Rain, Sterling and I wove through the crowd, scanning for any stray people who happened to be looking at Zephyr. My panic ebbed, as I realized it could work. We’d make it work…when Sterling said, “Oh, sonofa—” and then halted, mid-word.
“I’ll take care of him,” Rain said. “You go deal with Sidehustle.”
I knew he was right. Zephyr and Sterling would have enough presence of mind to act natural if they suddenly appeared in a crowd. But Sidehustle would undoubtedly make a huge commotion. Especially once he realized that calling attention to himself would drag us all into the spotlight. I spotted a bathroom a few feet away with a “staff only” sign. It would have to do. I slipped my lock picks into the lock. It felt stiff and strange, as if it might be full of webbing, but it opened. I wheeled in Sidehustle just as Rain called out, “Good luck,” stepped into a gap in the crowd were nobody was looking, and went gray and still.
Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. I unstrapped Sidehustle and stood him so he was facing me, and I was blocking the only exit, then slipped the dolly into a stall. Is there a word for the opposite of effort? Whatever it might be, I felt it as I allowed myself to unclench, and I let myself slide out of the Otherwise.
“… And you’ll find that they are up to some very interesting—what the hell?” Sidehustle staggered as if he’d just tripped over nothing, and whirled around comically, looking for the SWAT team. “Edward?” He grabbed at his chest and staggered back as if I’d just shoved him, then wrapped his arms around his middle and groaned. “What did you—? Why—? Fuck me sideways, I’m gonna hurl.”
“It’ll pass.”
“You bastard—you roofied me!”
“I did not drug you,” I said coldly. “Now, listen to me, and listen good. You will not run back to the police. You will take the money in your pocket, and you will board the nearest train. You will get off at the end of the line, and you will forget you ever knew us. And you’ll count yourself lucky that you haven’t found yourself at the bottom of the river.”
“No drugs? Then, it’s that fancy trim you lifted from the House of Fire, isn’t it? I always knew those people had more tricks up their sleeve than lighting candles and growing grass.”
I stepped up to him, got ri
ght in his face, and growled, “This has nothing to do with Aurora.”
“The hell it doesn’t. I doubt dear daddy is offering that reward out of the sentimental flutters of an aging heart.” He pushed me, two-handed, a belligerent shove to the chest. “Maybe I can forget about Aurora. But it’s gonna cost you.”
I shoved back, hard, temper flaring. Not only did the force I exerted startle me—but the Arcana kicked in like it had a will of its own. Sidehustle’s overcoat burst into flames, flared bright, then fell to ashes with the suddenness of a magician’s flash paper. Sidehustle’s bravado evaporated, and he cringed back from me as if he expected another shove—one that would ignite his flesh, not his clothing. “I was just talking smack,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. C’mon, man, can’t you take a joke? I’ll be cool. Honest.”
Anger still roiled through my veins like flame catching a bit of tinder. I towered over him, struggling to quell the urge to cause him some serious hurt. “You, honest? Try again.”
“Cut me some slack, Edward. How long have we known each other—ten years?”
“Five. Long enough to know you’d sell out your own mother if the price was right.”
“But that was before my life flashed before my eyes. Listen, Eddie, come on, how many times have I come through for you? That’s gotta be worth something.” He extended a trembling hand. “You let me walk out of here, I’ll cut you in on my operation. Ten percent, how’s that sound? No? How ’bout twelve? Get some passive income going and you can stop breaking your back on those burn crews.”
He cowered, and he groveled, and damn it, I knew it was all an act. I could see it in his eyes. The minute he got away from me, he’d run right back to the cops, using scraps of the scorched overcoat as “evidence” that we’d abducted Fire’s daughter. The urge to pound him into submission was strong, but I channeled that fury elsewhere, and said, “You’re right, we do go back a ways. And that’s why you’re going to take this opportunity I’m giving you and start over somewhere else. Somewhere nobody knows you. Somewhere you can thrive. And someday, when you look back on this, you’ll realize that this second chance was the most generous thing anyone’s ever done for you. And you didn’t even have to wheel and deal to get it.”
When I spoke, I felt the Fire aspect flowing, sparking through the connections in my mind to help me find just the right words, just the right phrases. Sidehustle’s eyes were damp, and if I looked hard enough, I could see my reflection looming large in his pupils. And I could tell that my eyes were glowing amber.
As the words flowed, Sidehustle nodded. Minutely, at first, then with more emphasis, until finally it was as if his whole body was in agreement with me.
“You’re right,” he said. “This town is all tapped out. And I’ve got a cousin on the West Coast who’s been bragging about how easy it is to score out there.”
“Go there,” I said. “And don’t come back.”
I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a trance, but he looked pretty dazed once I was done talking to him. He followed me out of the restroom and drifted over to the ticket counter with a single-minded focus that was entirely unlike his usual demeanor, always scanning the room for his next mark. And while the ticket seller was giving nervous glances to the giant scorch on his chest, Sidehustle didn’t mention it, so neither did she.
I sagged against the cool tiled wall, woozy with exhaustion as the Fire aspect went quiescent, and I was no longer flowing the Arcana.
Sterling slid from the crowd, threaded an arm through mine, and walked me toward the exit. Thankfully, no one was looking at him like he’d suddenly appeared out of thin air. “You okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
“And you trust Sidehustle to actually board that train?”
I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t used the Arcana to sell him the idea. “It’s handled.” The assertion pissed Sterling off, I could tell. He always hated it when I knew what I was talking about. “Right now, we’d better get back to Aurora.”
29
AURORA
The blink of an eye. That’s how long it took for the Rebels to disappear. We were running down the short flight of stairs hand in hand, only three steps. Arcane energy spiked, a flash so brief it was over with before I even registered its presence. And by the time I reached the bottom, I was alone.
“Guys?” I whispered, then listened hard. Nothing but the sound of a distant siren and the wind skittering some trash across a vacant lot. All day, they’d been straining to achieve the Bonding. Maybe true urgency was the key.
For all I knew, the SWAT team was still out there, so I slipped between the dumpsters to thread my way off the property. “I’m not sure if you can hear me from wherever you went,” I said softly, “but I need you to know that I’m okay. You do what you have to do. If I found out you got caught because you thought I needed defending, I’d never forgive myself. I’ll survive. That’s what I do. And besides, if anyone needs to be the scapegoat, there’s nothing the cops could charge me with, so of all of us, it should be me.”
Brave words. I might not go to prison, but ending up back at the compound would be even worse. Haltingly, I chose the darkest, narrowest side streets, the most uninviting path I could pick out among the squalor. Anyone trying to follow would presume I’d headed somewhere warm and bright and safe, so I went the exact opposite way, winding through the narrow gaps between buildings and skirting the alleyways.
I walked for more than an hour before I stopped to rest, thinking I’d really need to pick up the pace, when I spotted the car. A silver hatchback, doors trimmed with rust like the filigreed lace on the edge of an old lady’s handkerchief. It had been new once, I reminded myself. And someone still cherished it, judging by the sparkly purple dice dangling from the rearview mirror. But the dice weren’t the thing that really caught my eye: it was the passenger visor flipped down.
Maybe I’d never driven anywhere, but I did technically know how to drive. One of our tutors had been of the philosophy that our schooling should represent a typical high school curriculum as closely as possible. And that included driver’s ed. Could I actually see myself climbing behind that wheel and driving away? Where would I even go? Anywhere but where I was, I supposed. But could I imagine myself living somewhere without the four Rebels? Maybe that was the real question.
Of course, it was possible that the passenger visor had been flipped down by somebody shielding their eyes from the sun. Maybe it meant nothing. I eased up to the car as if it might be skittish, and it took me three tries to gather up the nerve to reach for the handle.
The door opened.
Okay, maybe someone just forgot to lock it….
Steeling myself, I crouched, peeled up the floor mat, and prepared myself to find absolutely nothing. I’d done it so convincingly, I was actually surprised to reveal a key.
I stared, dazed, and wondered if I could actually go through with it. Maybe there really was no future for me without this ragtag group of men who’d adopted me. I was struggling to force myself to pick up the key when I heard it. Voices.
“Princess? Princess!”
It was a child’s voice, I realized. And felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with me. And then, off in the distance, “Princess!” That time, a woman’s voice. I stood. If I strained, I heard yet another voice shouting Princess, this voice male, coming from somewhere very far off.
The whole neighborhood was calling for Princess.
I slammed the car door and sprinted to the end of the alley. A boy no older than ten was pedaling lazily on a rusty bike. “Princess!” he called.
I waved him down, and he glided through an unhurried figure eight and pulled up in front of me. “Yeah?”
“Why are you yelling that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Some guy lost his dog.”
“Who?”
In that generally sullen way of young boys, he shrugged again and said, “I dunno. Some guy.”
“Show me. Who?”
He pointed listlessly. “Out there by the gas station. He’s got everyone looking. Why? You seen it?”
“I hope so.” I hurried off toward the corner, feeling preemptively silly for hoping that the search party had anything to do with me, yet being unable to quell that optimism. A loose mob of people milled around the gas station parking lot, regular everyday people—older, younger, anyone and everyone, people you wouldn’t look at twice—but in the center of that mob stood a tall, long-haired man with striking cheekbones and an elegant grace too innate to be learned.
I pushed through the crowd in a daze, and somehow it parted for me. And when I locked eyes with Rain, it was as if all the people around us disappeared, and it was just him, and just me. Alone. Together. A single moment suspended in time like the final note of the symphony. His vivid eyes, tidal blue, lit with recognition, and then relief. And when he opened his arms, it was impossible to do anything other than dive right in.
He held me tightly, like he never wanted to let go. And I clung to him for dear life. After long moments, though, I realized that people were jostling us, and the call “Princess!” was getting absurd.
I pushed back enough to look Rain in the eye, and said, “Really? Your dog?”
He lowered his voice and said, “Well, we couldn’t have everyone calling for Aurora, now, could we?”
“The nickname’s done its job,” I said. “I think it’s time to retire it.”
He bent his head to my ear, and the scent of him filled all my senses. Heady as the tang of a coming storm, fresh as a field of green grass after a thunder shower. “Don’t underestimate the allure of royalty,” he murmured, and his voice was low and lush and laden with all the ways he could surely make me lose my mind. “Little girls aren’t the only ones who grow up seeing all those movies. And sometimes little boys feel certain stirrings at the thought of being the one who gives the sleeping princess that fateful kiss.”