Spark (Legends of the Shifters)

by J. B. North

  “It’s so easy, isn’t it?” he asked, staring straight ahead. “...To forget about things while you’re here.”

  “Snap out of it, Roland. An easy life is not what we were called to have,” Kurt growled back to him.

  Roland’s face screwed into a scowl. I could tell already that he and Kurt were going to have a hard time getting along for the rest of the quest.

  The canal started to widen and soon we were among a whole group of boats heading for the same place.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Well, I thought that once this was over, we could resume our journey, so we’re headed to the end of the canal, to the northernmost part of the city.”

  I didn’t answer him. I saw the end of the canal. It ended in a circle. Stairs led down into the water, stopping just where the water reached. Here, the main color was light green, although the stones that made the pavement were still their normal gray and brown. Flowers grew abundantly in window boxes and raised beds and vines climbed up the sides of most houses. It was beautiful.

  If you haven’t already guessed, this is where the wealthy live,” said Roland.

  The boat drew close to the edge, and I got out in a daze, still taking in my surroundings. “It would be very easy for me to live here,” I said sadly. But inside, I knew that what Kurt had said was true. We weren't called to live a life this simple. We had a mission to complete, and we needed to move ahead with it.

  Roland tipped the boat man before we continued walking. Even though I wanted to marvel at every house that we passed, I kept my head down until the stone pathway suddenly stopped, replaced by worn dirt. While there were still a few houses here and there, we had finally reached the trees. The ocean wouldn't be too much further, and then we would be traveling swiftly around the coast.

  *****

  We didn’t exhaust ourselves too much before calling it a day. Because we weren't anywhere near a city, we would have to build a camp. The conservatory had taught us how to catch food, but it didn't go into much detail on building shelters. Kurt stayed behind to form some kind of structure and Roland and I went in search of firewood. The climate had cooled considerably since we left Nalla. It seemed almost as cold as Forlander would be at this time of year.

  I changed into half form and was greeted warmth as heat surged through my veins.

  “You know, you are especially beautiful when you’re in half form,” Roland said from behind me.

  I blushed deeply and distracted myself with finding another broken branch. “I’ve never seen your half form,” I deflected casually.

  He was quiet for a while and I fought not to glance at him for the longest time, but then my curiosity got the better of me. I looked and jumped back suddenly.

  His half form was threatening. He was still wearing the same clothes from before, but they seemed to melt into his skin. Golden scales lined his arms and his incisors were pointed, like the fangs of a sea serpent.

  “I know,” he said, studying my face. “It’s intimidating, but it’s the reason why everyone wanted me for their quests. You see, if I coat my scales with mud, I’m hard to see in the dark, and I can climb walls because my hands have a good grip.” He held up one hand. The scales ended at his fingertips, which were still like a normal human’s. It reminded me of the white lizards we had in Forlander than would venture out during the summer.

  I hadn’t looked at him for more than a few seconds before he changed back into his normal self. His clothes were similar to the ones he had on when he changed from full second form, but a row of knives was strapped to his side as well. He continued to pick up some sticks like nothing had happened and I wondered how he could possibly act like that.

  Then, I realized why. Kurt was just visible through the pines about fifty yards away. It would look suspicious if he saw us in deep conversation rather than gathering firewood like we were supposed to. I walked a few feet away from Roland and started back on the job. Soon, I had almost more than I could handle. I headed back to the camp. When I got there, Roland was waiting for me, and Kurt was nowhere to be found.

  I could see that he had started to construct a shelter with pine branches, and I wondered where he had been heading when he passed us earlier.

  Roland built up the fire, starting with smaller branches and ending with the larger ones.

  He smiled at me when he was finished. “Would you do the honors?” he asked.

  I returned the smile. “I can try.”

  Before I could change form, however, I heard a boom sounding from deep in the woods.

  Both Roland and I spun around to where it had come from, the same direction that we had been only a few minutes previously.

  Kurt had gone that way. He was in danger.

  A big puff of smoke rose above the trees. I immediately started sprinting toward it.

  The forest was a blur as I hurriedly changed form, leaving Roland behind.

  “Wait!” I heard him say, but I didn’t want to. I couldn't let the last person left in my family get hurt.

  I was at the site of the explosion in seconds. Black tents crowded in an unnaturally green glade. One of the tents was smoking, but oddly enough, there were no flames.

  There was no one to be seen, so I changed back into first form and continued onward cautiously, toward the smoking tent.

  I listened closely before I peeked inside. I could tell that there had been a small campfire in here, but there was no sign of an explosion.

  Almost as soon as I peered into the tent, I was shoved hard from behind. I let out a surprised cry and tumbled into the tent, landing on the hot coals. I felt a slight sting tickle my hands, but nothing more. I hurried to get back to my feet.

  “I thought I could get you here,” a woman's voice said coldly.

  When I turned, I saw that she was middle-aged. Her hair was graying at the roots and wrinkles lined her face in a way that made her seem permanently unhappy.

  “What does that mean?” I asked angrily, brushing off my dress. “What do you want?”

  She glared at me. “It’s not what I want. It’s what our leader wants. I’m just the one to finally catch you.”

  I wanted desperately to get out. I lunged toward the woman, hoping to surprise her, but my movements were stopped by an unseen force. My limbs were frozen in place, with my hands stretched out and only one foot touching the ground. I couldn’t even breathe.

  I tried to call for Roland or Kurt, but my voice only came out in a quiet squeak.

  Outside, I could hear sounds of struggling. “Let me go!” roared Kurt’s voice.

  There was shouting of several people and then, silence. Kurt must’ve been taken out.

  Another squeak came out and I tried as hard as I could to move, but I didn’t manage even the slightest twitch of my pinky finger. My eyesight was darkening and I could feel myself starting to slip away. I tried to recall the memory of my parents, but the woman was already controlling me.

  The woman smirked. “I can feel you pushing against my power, but nothing you can try will work. I will, however, loosen my grip on your throat. I want you conscious for now.”

  My chest unfroze and I gulped in air, the fogginess fading from my sight. “Who is your leader?” I questioned furiously. “What do you want with me?”

  She started to circle me like a mountain lion circling its prey. “Well, who do you think it is? And why do you think we want you?”

  “I will not give you the satisfaction of answering your questions,” I spat.

  She laughed, a harsh sound that grated on my ears.

  A man came into the tent. “Sheena, we have no time for that. Our leader has arrived.”

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, still facing me. “Yes, I suspected he would right about now.”

  I took advantage of the moment she took her eyes off me and pushed against her power as hard as I could. Her control over me snapped, and I fell to the ground, breathing hard.

  “Move aside, Jo
el,” said a hauntingly familiar voice from outside the tent.

  I looked up to confirm whether or not the voice belonged to who I thought it did. My breath hitched in my throat as Roland stuck his head inside the tent, his familiar brown eyes flicking around the room and resting coldly on me.

  Time seemed to freeze for a second as we studied each other. I clenched my fists, and fought not to feel nauseous.

  “You?” My voice cracked. “You…betrayed me?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and turned to Sheena. “Shoot her,” he ordered.

  Before he left, however, he gave me one last look. I caught a glimpse of something in that look. Regret, perhaps?

  Then, as I stared after him, I felt a prick in my neck. I was gone before my head ever hit the ground.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I woke up when I slammed against a wall. I thought I was back on Burton's ship again, but then I heard the clopping of hooves and realized that we must be in the back of a wagon that had turned sharply.

  Nearby, Kurt was sleeping, and I noticed something was protruding from his neck. I reached forward and pulled out a thin stick.

  My own neck felt sore, but when I reached back, there was only a small bump, like a mosquito bite. Perhaps it had come out when I had tumbled into the wall.

  There had been a poison station at the conservatory, but I'd never really worked with it. Even so, I could only guess that we had been forced unconscious with an herb of some kind.

  Memories started flooding my mind. Roland, who had only ever regarded me with warmth, had frozen me with his icy stare and his betrayal. The thought made me shiver. Of all things to expect on this trip, that had to be the last.

  The wagon went over another large bump, jarring me from head to toe. If it Kurt weren't here, I would change into my second form and burn this wagon to the ground. They probably put him in here with me because of that. I felt cold, so I hugged my knees tight to my chest and buried my face in my tangled hair.. I spent an hour like that, trying not to topple over when the wagon turned. After that hour, Kurt started to stir.

  “Kurt?” I asked.

  He looked at me blearily. “Ivy? Where are we?”

  “We're in the back of a wagon,” I answered quietly. “I don’t think they know that we’re awake.”

  He sat up more and rubbed his head. “Maybe we can escape somehow,” he said. He crawled forward and looked at the door. “This door doesn’t look very strong, so maybe I can break through it as a griffin.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I said.

  He closed his eyes, his forehead creased in concentration.

  I waited for his form to shift, but it never did.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I can’t change,” he said. “There must be a magical barrier around this carriage or something. You try.”

  I imagined the morning sun, but when I didn't shift, the sun blackened and melted back below the horizon.

  “You’re right,” I whispered. “It’s impossible.”

  Suddenly the carriage lurched to a stop, and I pitched forward, bracing myself on my hands and knees.

  Outside, I heard something clunk to the ground and then footsteps came around to the back of the wagon. The door squeaked open, and bright light shone in my eyes. I squinted until I could see clearly.

  The person that had opened the door wasn’t someone I recognized. It was an older man, perhaps Burton’s age. “You’ve been plotting, haven’t you?” he asked with a toothy grin. He carried a tray of food—stale bread and dried meat—a pitcher of water, and a chamber pot. I grimaced at the last item. “My sister sensed that you two were trying to change form.”

  “What do you expect?” I growled.

  He took me in with watery eyes. “I expect nothing less than that. I would do the same thing in your shoes, but let me tell you something. There is no escape when my sister is in charge.”

  A woman’s voice—Sheena’s—came from the front of the wagon. “Stop chit-chatting!” she shouted. “We need to get back on the road.”

  While he was distracted, I was going to try to bolt past him, but when I reached out my hand for a grip on the side of the wagon, my hand smacked against a barrier that was cold, like frosted glass.

  The man gave me a sympathetic look and put the tray at our feet. “Like I said, there is no escape,” he reminded me.

  “Wait,” Kurt said just before the man shut the door.

  The man paused and looked at him.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  The man shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. I can tell you how long you’ve been unconscious, though. It’s been almost a week, with the help of Sheena's preservation spell.”

  Kurt clenched his jaw.

  “Take it easy on the food,” the guy said. “The preservation spell usually makes one's stomach a little queasy, but you don't want to get sick on this trip.” Then, the door slammed shut and we were confined to the darkness once again.

  I reached for the pitcher first because Kurt hadn’t yet, and gulped down my share. Then I ate only a small amount of bread. I stopped when my stomach started to hurt, and tossed the remainder of the loaf back onto the tray. I curled into a ball on the floor and groaned.

  “Are you okay?” asked Kurt.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Tell me if it gets worse,” he said. “I'll bang on the door until the horses are so riled up that they'll have to stop the carriage.”

  I smiled into the corner. “Thank you, Kurt... I'm glad that you look out for me.”

  There was silence until I was almost asleep. Before I drifted off however, I heard him say softly, “That's what a brother should do for his little sister.”

  *****

  The next time I woke up, the wagon was still. If I listened closely, I could hear the chirp of crickets outside.

  It was nighttime. They must have either stopped to make a camp or stopped at an inn. It was darker in the wagon than it had been the first time.

  “Kurt,” I whispered. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “For how long?” I asked.

  “Since last time you were up,” he answered.

  “How long ago was that?” I asked.

  “It felt like days, but it was probably only a few hours.”

  “Could you not sleep?”

  He paused before answering, “I can never sleep in captivity.”

  I sat up straighter. “You’ve been in captivity before?” I interrogated, wondering why he had never told me before.

  “Many times,” he said. “But only twice in the way that you’re thinking of.”

  “Who was it, the one that held you prisoner?”

  “Once, it was just some bandits that got the better of me. There were too many of them and they tied me down with a net. Another was the Ginsian king—”

  “The Ginsian king?” I interrupted. “He held you in his prisons?”

  “Yes…for some time. It was weeks until the king of Leviatha got me out.”

  “You have this amazing story, and you’ve only decided to spit it out now?”

  He chuckled. “Sometimes, I don’t like people to know.”

  “So have you met King Giddon?” I asked.

  “Yes, but very briefly. The only reason he rescued me out of Ginsey’s prison was because he’d heard of all the work that I’d done for the country. What a valuable citizen he had in the prisons of his enemy. I almost started a war.”

  “How did you get out of that?” I asked.

  “King Giddon gave a lot of money to King Ciaran.”

  “So basically, he bought you.”

  “Kind of.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if they wrote a book about your life,” I said, sitting back against the wall.

  He was quiet for a while. “Perhaps they will,” he said. “But it won’t be nearly as big as the book they write about you.”

  I wri
nkled my forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve heard talk.” I could barely hear his voice. “I overheard the headmaster talking about a phoenix and a prophecy…this was before you were ever at the school. He was saying that you were bound to show up soon. That it was only a matter of time…. I didn’t catch everything, but your destiny, whatever it is, is important.”

  I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “I certainly hope not. I could do without that weight on my shoulders.”

  “If it is true, I know you will be able to get through it. You have a strong will...and a good heart.”

  His words warmed me. “Thank you...but I still can't help but hope that it's not true.”

  He chuckled. “Unless my ears are failing me, it's almost certain that it is.”

  I was silent. After a moment, I looked over at him, trying to make out his form in the darkness. All I could see was a shadow. “Where did you get your scars?” I asked.

  I saw his hand reach up to his face. “They're from a long time ago,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “The person that gave them to me was once my best friend...But then, he betrayed me and gave me scars that would alter my appearance for the rest of my life.”

  “For the record, I think it adds character,” I said.

  “Perhaps, but tell me... Would you want a scar this obvious?”

  I scoffed. “That's not fair. It's better for a man to have scars than a woman.”

  He chuckled.

  We sat quietly, listening to the crickets.

  After a few moments, I reached out and groped for the tray that the man had left before, hoping that there was still some food left. I tried to avoid the chamber pot, and did a pretty good job of it, considering that I couldn’t see anything. I found the same loaf that I’d thrown down and ate the whole thing without getting sick. I was thirsty, but when I grabbed the pitcher, there was no water left. I supposed that I’d have to wait until morning.

  *****

  The next day, I woke up when a door slammed nearby.