by Jenn Nixon
The man’s eyelids moved, but didn’t open until he was beyond Zorin’s reach. He flicked out his wings, jerking back in the air, but not fast enough to stop him from crashing into the barrier.
The shock to his body flung him backward.
Zorin smashed into the ground, emptying his lungs of air with a puff. The pain shooting through his wings brought a flash of memory.
He remembered breaking his arm, almost losing his hand during a fight in Georgia, where a group of casters had fled after some of the neighboring states outlawed casters. What he saw, did, had been his turning point and Mergan’s means of manipulations, claiming she wanted to end the suffering, save the casters, make him stronger.
Zorin shook his head and rose to his knees. The memories, however, wouldn’t stop. His body trembled. He palmed the ground, wheezed, and shut his eyes, willing the images away.
What happened? Rune asked, approaching slowly, filling the air with his soothing power, and carrying traces of Cyndra’s.
I lost him, Zorin replied, punching the ground, shaking harder, seeing his vision turn red.
“It’s not your fault,” Cyndra said softly, reminding him of his other failures and the consequences, her muted energy.
He fought for years to find a bond this strong. Now, his monstrous existence demanded and twisted that bond into a constant struggle. He didn’t want to return to the ruthless killing machine Mergan created.
“So much death,” he said through heavy, painful gasps.
“We don’t know that anyone’s dead…hey,” Cyndra called softly and knelt down beside him. “Concentrate on your breathing, Zorin, deep breaths.”
He needed more than instructions and coping methods for survivor’s panic. Zorin gently clasped her left hand, curling his fingers tightly around her wrist. Their bond, strongest through touch, soothed him instantly. Same as before when he sensed her energy on the wind, his breathing calmed, and mind cleared. He didn’t need to siphon her, but he wanted to, desperately. When Cyndra’s tantalizing fire entered the mix, Zorin eased his grip and drew up to his knees, taking a deep breath of warm air, aiding his attempt to tamp down the terror.
Are you okay, Zorin?
Nodding, he slowly got to his feet and glanced back at the mansion. “We may need to rethink our priorities.”
“No fucking shit,” Cyndra said, adding bite to her tone as her cheeks darkened and intense heat spilled off her skin. “We have to find the others, if there are any left.”
Rune frowned as his shoulders dropped. How? I had instructions, sort of, and got lucky with my train stop.
“Or perhaps via subconscious memories, Rune. And if you had a letter saying to go east, perhaps that is where you need to be, in the Eastzone.”
“Now you want us to go?” Cyndra shook her head and disappeared into the woods.
I don’t think that’s— Rune glanced over and shrugged. Why’s she so mad?
Zorin sighed and covered his face. “Because I’m a hypocrite and a coward.”
Well, you need to talk to her…after she cools down.
“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Zorin said, following behind to ensure no wraith snuck up on them.
You should unlock the rest of the journal, too.
“What do you mean?”
She didn’t tell you? Rune sighed and rubbed the side of his face. Another page appeared after you two were sitting at the table.
Zorin tried not to react and failed, frowning when Rune lifted his eyebrow high for effect. “It was mostly Cyndra’s doing, I’m not a caster anymore.”
Yes, you are, Zorin. Have you even tried evoking an element…recently?
He shook his head, slowing as they neared the lighthouse door.
Rune continued, Why not?
“I fear the consequences,” he said, pulling back the door. “Mergan said if I did evoke elements in this form they’d do more damage to me because of my heightened siphon.”
You’ve said she lied before.
“Yes, constantly.” Zorin smirked and followed the caster up the stairs. “I’m not certain there’s a need to test the theory. As much as I despise this form, I value my life too much to try.”
Glad to hear that, Rune said and paused at the top step and moved slowly across the living space.
Despite the caster’s attempt to stay quiet to let Cyndra sleep, Zorin knew she was still awake. She didn’t move and barely breathed, curled up on the couch with her back to the room. Rune pointed to the bedroom and smiled. Zorin nodded and went to the stairs, tempted to leave on another patrol, but deciding to stay, for now.
Zorin walked around the entire light for the fiftieth time, impatiently waiting for the sun to rise so he, Rune, and Cyndra could plan their next move. The long silent night behind him gave him too much time to think. Finding the remaining casters seemed as impossible as bringing down Mergan’s barriers or figuring out the mirror prison.
“No,” Cyndra moaned softly from inside. Her fire increased exponentially, quickly warming the air. Zorin crept down the stairs, hearing her cry again. On her back, Cyndra’s face twitched and scrunched as her fingers trembled. “No!”
Cyndra, he called to her mind.
She bolted upright on the couch gasping and clutching her chest. “Shit.”
“Nightmare?”
Cyndra nodded and smoothed her wild wavy hair as she swung her feet to the floor. Then she covered her face and yawned. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I haven’t slept,” he replied, moving to the kitchen to restart the fire.
“Just like you didn’t eat,” she mumbled, meeting his gaze as she neared.
“I had two squirrels in the woods. This form prefers raw food.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, moving around the table and glancing down at the book. “So you’re strong enough to try unlocking the journal?”
“Yes, if you’re ready,” he answered.
“We already made a page appear, yesterday before dinner.” Cyndra shrugged a shoulder, cocked one side of her mouth, and pulled the journal to the edge.
Surprised she actually told him, Zorin moved behind her and gazed down at the journal, sensing her energy building. Cyndra opened it to the first blank page and ran her finger along the middle.
“It was really strong with Pristy, so if it gets bad for you—”
Zorin covered her left hand with his and pressed both onto the book. Their energy fused and spiraled through the air. Cyndra swayed and leaned against his arm. Without thinking about the consequences, he set his shaky hand on her waist to steady her.
The contact made them both tremble.
A soft greenish-white glow filled the spaces between their fingers and spread along the pages of the journal, unleashing Cyndra’s energy in a tempting blast that shocked his body. She sucked in a sharp breath and backed into his groin, warming his cool skin with her extreme heat. Zorin tensed, eased the hold on her waist, and clenched his jaw, fighting more than siphoning urges.
Don’t let go. Cyndra tilted her head back, sliding into the crook of his arm, making the entire left side of his body, wing included, tingle and spark even before she met his eyes. If you have to siphon me, do it…just…
Zorin threaded his fingers between hers and squeezed her hand, unsure what he wanted more, to siphon her or touch her. Speak your mind, Cyndra.
Every time I do, you…change the subject.
I’ve been alone for very long, I’m trying.
She lowered her eyes. I know. I want to tell you—
Then tell me.
I calm you like you calm me…that’s why you grabbed my wrist in the woods, isn’t it?
“Yes,” he replied aloud to ensure he’d breathe. “Your energy, our bond soothes me.”
She unlinked her hand from his and pulled her warm body away, stepping toward the window behind the staircase. “Is that normal between casters?”
“To an extent, yes. Most casters bond with their family, childhood friends. Neither
of us had that luxury,” Zorin said, reaching out with his right hand to clasp hers, ready to confess his truth, even if the rapid beating of his heart warned him not to. He tugged her gently away from the window. “Our bond is stronger than any I’ve had. The hunger I suffer in this form threatens to destroy that.”
“What does that mean?” She faced him, her eyes wide and extremely curious as usual.
“I once had the power of a half dozen casters to siphon, nothing could touch me. I was invincible. I killed thousands of people—”
“During a war that almost destroyed the whole world instead of half,” Cyndra said, inching closer and placing her hand on his chest. “Would you use my power to hurt people?”
“No.”
“Do you want to siphon me now?”
“Yes, relentlessly.”
“Why?” she asked quietly, lowering her gaze as her fingers twitched on his collarbone.
“When I siphon your energy I feel like a caster again. Absorbing your fire warms my skin, making me feel almost human.” He brushed the back of his hand along her jaw and tipped her chin up. “You may still call me a gargoyle, Cyndra, but that’s not what you see when you look at me.”
“No, it’s not,” she said as her hand warmed on his chest.
“What do you see?” he asked this time, needing his own answers.
“Someone I want to be close to, someone I want to share my energy with and feel his in return. Someone who excites me for reasons I don’t even understand. …” The heat from her hand spread over his skin, down his limbs, seeping to every muscle and organ. She touched the tip of his chin intimately, arousing him for the first time in twenty-five years. “That face or this one doesn’t matter, you make me feel things I’ve never felt before, Zorin, but sometimes you look at me like—that.”
“You see the impossible, Cyndra.” Holding his breath, he gently pulled her hand from his chest and stepped back combating every wicked urge inside his body. When Zorin released her hand, Cyndra’s arm swung back and her shoulders slacked. He could never be what she needed in this form. “I’m a monster, no longer the man you saw in that picture and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“Whoa, hey, I just said—”
A floorboard creaked.
In a blink, Zorin was at the stove tending to the fire, leaving Cyndra palming the table to remain on her feet. Rune walked out of the sleeping room smiling, of course. The residual energy tickled her arm and shoulder, helping to distract her from the butterflies in her stomach.
Pleasant morning, Rune projected, lifting his hand as he entered the kitchen area.
“Same to you,” she replied absently while Zorin nodded.
I’m starved.
“What are you thinking for breakfast? Fruits or rationbars?” she asked, utterly grateful for the company.
“You’d voluntarily eat that garbage over fruit?” Zorin scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll scour the fields—”
The lemon and oatmeal are actually good, Rune answered as he sat down and glanced at the journal. Did you unlock more pages?
“Not sure yet,” Cyndra said, sitting opposite him. She kept her focus on the book as she began turning the pages. Zorin approached to see the results, his potent energy crushing against her as he neared. Unable to hide her trembling fingers, Cyndra grabbed a chunk of pages and flipped, seeing more writing throughout the pages.
Rune’s face lit up. Zorin stepped back to the stove. Cyndra sighed, glad they caught another break. She skimmed some of the section headers, including caster history, caster crest instructions they already knew, offensive and defensive uses of caster power, and a few other topics that didn’t help her right now. She pushed the book toward Rune, who happily went through the rest, giving Cyndra a moment to pull herself together.
Ducking into the lavatory, she splashed cool water on her face and peeked out the slim window near the toilet. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the day, which felt appropriate because sunrise seemed so far away as she gazed out into the darkness.
When she returned to the kitchen, they had tea on the table and Zorin was sniffing a piece of lemon bar and crinkling his gray face.
Just try it, Rune prodded with a goofy smile.
Zorin popped the piece of food into his mouth, chewed, curled his lip in disgust, but didn’t spit it out. “I will hunt for more berries.”
“Maybe later, we need to figure out a plan…for our next move.”
Which is what?
“Searching for the other casters,” Zorin answered as he breathed in the entire room. “Is there anything useful in the journal, Rune?”
Not yet.
Cyndra masked the shudder by walking toward her backpack and fished deep down, under her clothes and spare pair of boots and the rest of her gear, and pulled out a perfect orange, then tossed it across the room.
They grinned at her, but Rune got in the first word. You’ve been holding out on us.
“It’s just the one, honest. May even have seeds…which I didn’t even think of until right now,” Cyndra said, shrugging as she zipped up her pack. “Wish we didn’t eat that banana.”
“Where did you get an orange?” Zorin took the fruit from Rune and put it to his nose. “Even I haven’t seen one of these in…”
“Trader from Southzone, I got it in Baltimoretown. You don’t want to know what I had to trade.”
I hope it wasn’t anything you needed, Cyndra.
She shook her head. “The canned meat, one of your tomatoes, sorry, and some ration points and a few dollars. Worth it, I think, especially with your garden.”
“I agree,” Zorin said as he nodded and handed the fruit back to the earthcaster.
Cyndra returned to her seat as Rune skimmed the last few pages. She was hoping for some easy clue to break barriers or undo protection casts, they’d have to read the whole thing to find answers. There was no quick fix to this fucked up situation.
Look at this, Rune said, jumping from his seat, pointing to the last page of the journal. A list of five names, three of which she knew, hers, Pristy’s and Rune Maelstrom. Each of their names tagged with an e, s, or w marking their zone. The last two, Jack Keaton and Tulli Chan, were both marked for the Southzone.
“Only five?” Zorin frowned and rubbed his jaw, attempting to hide the worry behind emotionless eyes.
“Maybe these are the five my grandfather hid, who else would he have worked with?”
Zorin pressed his lips together and paced the space between the couch and kitchen. Cyndra turned back to the previous page, giving him a moment to think in peace and quiet, and scanned the text, hoping for certain words to catch her eye. None of this related to the war or prison or hidden casters, just more history.
Shaking his head, Zorin returned to the table, set his hand on Rune’s shoulder. “I don’t have the memories to help, I’m sorry.”
At least we have a starting point: names and a location.
“True and there are only two hubs for registration in the south. If we have enough fuel to get to the coast, we can find transport from there. I haven’t been in a while. I’m sure it hasn’t changed much…none of it changes much.” Cyndra read both names again, memorizing them in case she decided to leave the book behind. “Do you know how long it’ll take for us to get there from here?”
“At least a day and a half with the boat we have,” Zorin answered, carefully peeling the orange. “Gliding wouldn’t be much faster.”
“Norfolk Beach has a train that goes to Georgia, we can ferry to Southzone from there.”
Not sure that’s the best idea, Rune said as Zorin’s wings twitched. But we should stop there get more fuel.
“Good thinking. Bio-diesel is hard to come by the further south we go. You know, we may have better luck finding a solarcar to rent.”
“Do we have the means to do that?” Zorin asked as he separated the orange slices and set them in a wax wrap.
Cyndra nodded. “Three Zonecoins betwe
en us. That’ll get us to the Carolinas at least.”
Rune smiled, tapping his satchel. And a few trader coins that’ll come in handy when I find the right buyer.
“If we take all the perishables with us and leave everything else, I can cover us for a couple of days with ration points,” Cyndra said, shutting the book as she stood to stretch. “I’ve been saving for a rainy day, and it’s pretty much pouring, metaphorically speaking—”
Zorin gazed toward the staircase. “Take a few more knives from downstairs, let them be of some use.”
Good idea. Rune went back to the sleeping room.
Cyndra gazed down at the journal certain it would be safer here in the caster box. Still, the boat ride was more than enough time to read the entire book. She sighed and turned back to Zorin, who was collecting the perishables from the icebox.
“Do you think I should bring the journal?”
“That’s not my choice—”
“I’m asking your opinion,” she snapped, wishing he’d just answer a damn question for once.
“Why?” He narrowed his gaze.
Cyndra tilted her head. “Because I trust you. I need to read it, but who knows what’ll happen in the Southzone. What if I screw up again and lose it?”
Zorin ran a hand down his face revealing a frown. “It will be safest here.”
“Then it stays,” she said, relaxing some and grateful for a straightforward answer.
What stays? Rune asked as he exited the sleeping room, appearing exactly the way he did when they met, sans the hood over his head.
“The journal. We’ll have to practice what we already know for a while.”
Nodding, Rune approached the kitchen shifting his belt in place, undeterred by her decision. He truly kept his positive mood on high when possible. Cyndra had hoped he’d rub off on her by now, sadly, she had too much to drama and tended to carry it.
I left the duffle bag in the boat, Rune said, heading toward the stairs. I don’t think you need to bring your whole pack.
“Totally agree,” she said, picking up the journal and handing it to Zorin. “Can you put this in the box?”