Harley Merlin 19: Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere

by Bella Forrest

  Persie stiffened at my side, no doubt freaked out by the mention of glass boxes. I tugged her closer to me to let her know I was there.

  “Pfft, as if we need their technology,” said a classmate with hedgehog hair and muscles that looked like they’d been inflated by a bike pump. Bike-Pump Biceps was what I’d call him for now. I shot him a dark look. He hadn’t even dared to actually direct his comment at me. Coward.

  Nathan turned back around. “Actually, their technology is proven to provide the creatures with a more comfortable experience.”

  “Who cares about their comfort? They’re mindless,” another classmate chimed in, a smug grin on her face. One of the ponytails who’d snarked at me before.

  “If you think that, you shouldn’t be here.” It was the first time I’d seen a bit of fire in Nathan. His eyes narrowed, and the girl’s grin vanished. “They aren’t mindless. They are sentient beings with very real personalities, and every creature is unique. I’m not even sure that keeping them caged is the best way of harnessing their energy, but they are necessary to magical society, so it’s my job to make sure that they are, at the very least, comfortable while they are in my care. And I have no doubt that the Beast Master of the Bestiary behaves the same way, because he understands these creatures and their merits in a way that you clearly don’t. I hope that changes, or you’ll find life as a hunter a thankless task.”

  “Why don’t you ask the SDC’s finest?” the musclebound jackass grumbled.

  Nathan smiled at Persie and me. “That’s an excellent idea. You must know the Beast Master quite well, I’d imagine. What does he believe?”

  Persie nodded. “Tobe knows every creature, and he cares for each of them with the biggest heart. Even the ones who might not deserve it.”

  You say that, but he’d rip Leviathan a new one if that slimy son of a biatch ever actually tried to hurt you.

  I didn’t say it aloud. There was no use in bringing him up when he was clearly already on Persie’s mind all the time. She always shuddered when she heard his name, and I hated the hold he had over her. She should’ve been enjoying her life, not worrying about what Leviathan would do next. I’d never forgive him for that, or for ruining my best friend’s eighteenth birthday. Who did that? The slippery snake clearly had zero manners.

  “If you love him so much, why didn’t you stay there? You could’ve added to the Bestiary,” the other ponytail muttered under her breath, growing some serious sour grapes.

  Fortunately, I liked the taste of sour. And I wasn’t about to let anyone talk to my friend like that. I knew she could defend herself, but she wouldn’t.

  “Why, you worried it might give us an advantage because we’ve seen more real-life monsters than you’ve had hot dinners?” I retorted.

  Ponytail #2 sneered. “I’m not afraid of you, Genie.”

  “You’re the one who said it, not me.” I smiled, sweet as anything. “Now, I’d like to hear more from Nathan and less from you.”

  Nathan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, thank you, Genie. I’m pleased to hear that the Beast Master is everything I thought he would be, and I’d like to speak with you about him in more detail, but… that can obviously wait.” He walked up to one of the bubbles and coaxed the creature inside to appear. It flitted around like a dragonfly, with wings that looked like browned leaves. It resembled a stick insect with its crooked arms and thin body, with the exception of an eerily human face that observed us with milky white eyes. “This is a sprite called Archimedes. He’s very shy, and he likes—”

  “Long walks on the beach?” I joked. This time, I got a proper laugh, free of nerves.

  “I imagine he would, though he’d probably prefer a long flight in the park,” Nathan replied, smiling. “Many people used to believe that sprites were the spirits of the dead, who could be benevolent or malevolent, depending on how they were treated. They are ancient and were feared, but not so much anymore. This one is an Earth sprite, with weak spellcasting abilities that it uses to grow flowers and fruits, and to help crops. But the point is, there are sprites who would batter against this glass, or shrink away, or not emerge at all. I’ve gotten to know this one, and it’s proof of my theory that they have awareness and are far more complex than people make them out to be.”

  A long-haired dude folded his arms across his chest. “You’ll be saying they have souls, next.”

  Nathan put his palm to the glass, and the sprite raised a crooked, twiggy hand to his. “Actually, there is a great deal of evidence to suggest that they do, but proving the presence of a soul in a Purge beast would be like proving the existence of a soul in a human being.”

  Nice comeback, O’Hara! The long-haired guy huffed grumpily. Nathan had silenced him without so much as raising his voice. He’d slapped him with a wet fish of intellect, and I had to admit… it was kind of sexy. Not the wet fish part, but the smarts part. And he’d shown me a flash of a sense of humor, when I was fairly sure he’d had a humorectomy. Still, I wasn’t sure he would be much use in an actual hunting scenario. Not to sound shallow, but I’d always gravitated toward brawnier types. The kind of guy who could hold their own. Borderline alphas, that sort of jam. Nathan had some tasty looks, absolutely, but he was so… awkward. Cute, in its own right, but I didn’t usually go for that.

  “Are we done in here?” Charlotte reappeared, as blunt as ever. Maybe even a little thorny, but who wouldn’t be if they’d been saddled with a tour group by their mom? I’d shown a similarly blasé attitude when my dad made me take new Atlanteans around the SDC, though I’d managed a few smiles and a joke here and there. Just like Nathan’s theory about monsters, humans had their own individual styles and responses to situations. Charlotte was just riding with hers.

  “I believe so,” Nathan replied. He cast a look at me, and his face brightened in a disarming smile. It would’ve been rude not to smile back.

  “Right, then, let’s get moving. Our last stop is the future new wing of the Institute.” Charlotte disappeared and the group exited, in a rush to catch up to her. This time, Nathan joined us. I pushed away the hopeful thought that maybe he’d joined because of me.

  We got halfway up the corridor when something caught my attention: a faint light bobbing in the rafters overhead. I paused and stared at it, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. I blinked, but the light didn’t go anywhere. It looked like a hazy purple orb, with flaming blue wisps coming off it.

  I nudged Persie. “Do you see that?”

  “What?” Her voice sounded weird. Strained. Glancing down at her, I gasped. The color had vanished from her face, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Her lips were blue and trembling. Either we had a panic attack on our hands, or a Purge. Since it had been five days since her last spew of scary mist, my money was on the Purge.

  “Okay, Mama, we need to get you sitting and breathing.” I tugged her gently toward a bench against the wall and sat her down. The others hadn’t noticed and gone on ahead, including Nathan, which was fine by me. Persie didn’t need an audience of gawping vultures. Kneeling in front of her, I took her hands in mine. “Breathe with me, Persie. Can you do that?” I drew in a slow inhale, counted to five, and exhaled again. She stared at me, terror in her eyes. I gripped her hands tighter and breathed again, with the same slow deliberation. “Come on, baby shrimp. In for five, hold for five, out for five.”

  Baby shrimp? My heart jolted. I hadn’t meant to say it, it just spilled out. As I kept up the rhythm for Persie to copy, my mind turned to my mom again. Maybe she really was here, watching over me. Tragically, my mom would never get to meet Persie. I somehow knew they would’ve adored each other. But, right now, I had to take care of my best friend.

  Persie nodded. With a rattling rasp, she took a breath.

  “That’s it, you’ve got this. I’m here,” I urged. “Just keep breathing. I’ve got you.”

  As she drew another breath, slow and steady and clear, I dared to steal a look back up at the rafters. But the
glowing orb, or whatever it was, had gone. And I had to wonder… had it caused this?

  Four

  Persie

  I knew it couldn’t last. Five days without a Purge had been blissful, but that run of luck had come to an end. I tried to clench Genie’s hands, but it was as though I’d fallen asleep on my arms and now numbness spread from shoulder to fingertips. A new symptom, perhaps? I wouldn’t put anything past this curse. I was just a vessel for unleashing beasts into the world… a means to an end.

  “My… chest. I can’t… breathe.” I hunched over, my surroundings swimming in a kaleidoscope of color. The straight walls and curved ceiling melted into one, and the seat beneath me felt spongy and strange, like it could twist away at any moment. Panic scampered into the spotlight, sending dark sparks of adrenaline through my veins. Even though I’d known my Purges were inevitable, I hadn’t wanted this one to come. Not here, not on my first real day.

  “You can, Persie.” Genie ducked underneath my bent shoulders, so I had no choice but to look into her slate gray eyes.

  “Are… they… watching?” I couldn’t stand the idea of having a crowd observe me in my lowest moments. We weren’t children anymore, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t use anything they considered ammunition against me. I didn’t want to be an outcast forever, especially not here, where I’d hoped I’d belong.

  Genie shook her head at an awkward angle. “No, it’s just me. Don’t worry, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  So why do I feel like it’s my dirty little open secret? This was part of me now, and I knew there’d come a time when I had to own it, but I doubted I’d make peace with it anytime soon. With an ability so chaotic and haphazard, how could I? It flat-out refused to let me enjoy one good thing in my life. First my birthday, and now my orientation day.

  “I… hate it,” I rasped, as tears sprang to my blurry eyes. “I… hate… it!” I held onto Genie with every ounce of strength I could muster, focusing on the faint lines that crisscrossed her fingers and the chipped varnish on her nails. Anything to keep me anchored in this storm.

  “I know you do. I’m sorry I can’t take it away from you or find someone else who can.” Genie’s breath hitched and I saw tears shining in her eyes, too. “But you’re tough as heck, Persie. You can shove this sucker down and show it who’s boss. This is your power, and that means you run the show.”

  My tears splashed onto the polished concrete floor.

  “I can’t… even breathe,” I muttered, trying to follow Genie’s rhythm. Five seconds in, hold for five, then five seconds out.

  She peered up at me. “Can I use some Chaos on you?”

  “It can’t… make it worse.” Famous last words, but I was desperate.

  A shivering white tendril, hair-thin and barely perceptible, slithered out of her without the need for any hand commands. The glowing thread slipped between my lips and traveled down into my chest. The Air expanded my lungs, and a loud gasp erupted from my throat as I took a genuine breath. After calming down, I realized I’d caused this attack myself. I’d been holding my breath the entire time, panicking like a drowning person, intent on reserving whatever oxygen I had left—a survival tactic that could’ve gone seriously awry if I’d held on a few more minutes.

  “That’s it, you gulp down that tasty, tasty air.” Genie smiled widely as my body remembered what it was supposed to be doing. I unlocked the vise that had clamped around my ribcage and drew in breath after breath, letting the adrenaline and anxiety drain from me. The melting world returned to solidity, and my swimming vision cleared.

  I laughed like a loon. “It wasn’t a Purge!”

  “No?” Genie didn’t sound convinced, but I knew the difference. If this had been an oncoming Purge, the lingering need to expel would still be inside me—a perennial nausea in the pit of my stomach, like those tarry slugs that I’d coughed out in my dream.

  “I think I was just overwhelmed. A panic attack, or something,” I replied, my manic laughter subsiding.

  “You’ve been through a lot.” Genie rose to her feet and sat next to me on the bench. “It’s only natural that your body wants to go into protective mode. After all this, it probably thinks you’re under constant attack.”

  “I couldn’t have put it better,” I agreed. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for my next Purge, and I’ve been waiting for Leviathan to make a move, and I keep thinking someone’s going to comment on me being dangerous. I guess all the stress was bound to take its toll at some point.”

  I had Genie, but I didn’t have the rest of my support system within easy reach. I’d come to a brand-new place to follow my own path, with the shadow of my “gift” looming over me. And the transition had been anything but smooth. The joy of finding out I would be studying here had been marred by the news that I was no longer welcome in my own home and couldn’t even go back to fetch my things. Sure, I had big hopes for the future, fueled by a furnace of determination, but I couldn’t quash the idea that all of this would somehow blow up in my face. This morning’s dream hadn’t helped matters, amplifying my worst fears. Since arriving at the Institute, I’d tried to seem okay on the outside so I didn’t stand out as the perpetually nervous weirdo who might blast out a monster at any moment. But, on the inside, mayhem reigned supreme. To say that I was a mess would’ve been putting it lightly. I wanted to find my way through this new world without stirring up any trouble, but Leviathan’s gift had made trouble my middle name.

  Genie bumped her arm gently against mine. “Silver lining. No Purge beast.”

  “Right.” I tilted my head back against the wall and tried to stick with the positives.

  “I just… don’t want to end up in a glass box,” I said, more to myself than Genie.

  “You’re not going to.” She turned to me, and I met her earnest gaze. “I realize everything is a bit topsy-turvy at the moment, but you’ve got so many people on your side, Persie. People who won’t let that happen to you: me, Victoria, your parents, Tobe. And maybe I sound like a broken record, but you’ve already taken the first step toward controlling your ability. You made that happen, and if that doesn’t show grit, then I’m a circus clown.”

  I smiled at her. “Your cheeks do look a little red, but that might just be the lingering effects of Nathan’s presence.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hand to her heart dramatically, making me chuckle. “Oof, you wound me, Persie. I’ve told you, this Atlantean has her romance blinders firmly in place.” One eye peeked open. “But I’m glad you’re cracking jokes. The funnies are the first sign of recovery.”

  I really did feel calmer. The tension I’d been holding in my muscles had released, and I’d gone back to not noticing how air came in and out of my chest.

  “Thank you for being here, Genie.” I weaved my arm through hers.

  She waved a hand through the air. “Ach, where else would I be? Taking elocution lessons in Atlantis, gearing up to take a husband?” Her expression turned more serious. “We’ve been a pair since you were born. A team. And I know you’d have gotten yourself out of that”—she twirled her hand through the air, indicating the panic attack—“even if I hadn’t been here. I saw you during your exam, Pers. You didn’t let anything stop you… Well, until I stopped you.” Sadness flickered across her face, mingling with a smidge of guilt.

  “You helped me,” I corrected. I knew she still had some mixed emotions about that day, and how she might’ve messed up my admission into this Institute. But I didn’t blame her at all for stepping in. She’d seen me go all Purgey and had done what any good friend would.

  She gave me a grateful smile.

  “So, do you think we should catch up with the group?” I said.

  With a concerned eyebrow arched, she asked, “Are you sure you feel better?”

  “Steady as a rock.” I held out a hand to show the shakes had gone.

  “Then let’s go and see what we’re missing.” With my arm still looped through hers, Gen
ie led the way up the hall. I had to lean against her a little bit as we walked, but she didn’t make a point of it, just tightened her muscles so she could bear as much of my weight as I needed. We were our own two-person unit, and we left no woman behind.

  Fortunately, the labyrinth of the Institute had decided to be kind. At the end of the long hallway, there was only one route: to the left. We followed it until we spotted the rest of the group in the distance, standing in front of a wall of stained-glass panels that appeared to be in the middle of construction. Half-formed friezes of monster battles, in fiery shades of scarlet, gold, and burnished orange, were arranged around a partially-built archway that gaped darkly.

  We were halfway up the corridor when Genie yanked me back. “There they are again!”

  “What?” I squinted up at her.

  “Those… glowy things.” Her forehead furrowed. “Do you feel sick again? Any chills?”

  “No, I feel fine.” I followed her line of sight and froze in wonder. Gaseous spheres of light, about the size of baseballs, bounced around in the rafters overhead, trailing wisps of duck-egg blue, jade green, and lavender. The colors intensified in the center of each dancing light, like a candle flame, though the centers didn’t necessarily match the trails they dispersed; one of the blue lights had a vibrant violet core, while one of the green ones had a center of sunshine yellow.

  They mesmerized me as I watched them whirl and somersault above. “What are they?”

  “I don’t know, but I saw one before you got sick back there. I thought they might’ve had something to do with it, but since you haven’t gone all pale again, I guess I was wrong.” Genie tilted her head, her mouth set in a curious line.

  A few seconds later, they melted into the ceiling, only the mystery remaining.

  “Maybe they were dust motes,” I suggested. “Really big ones.”

  It wasn’t much of a theory. I’d never seen any sort of mote act the way those glowing orbs had, but light had a way of fooling the eye. And the Institute’s stained glass, inserted into almost every roof, certainly could’ve explained the pretty colors.