Trimarked

by C. K. Sorens

  Aaron shrugged. “They’re not part of my every day. The other people are.”

  Gus slapped the towel against his thigh. His scowl made it clear he wasn’t sure how to explain how he felt any better than he just had.

  “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Fact is, the type of magic they do goes beyond growing flowers or lighting people on fire, and I’m more pissed about the magic I can’t see.” Gus frowned at the floor. “Why are you asking these questions again?”

  “Brandt wants to fight a Fae.” The truth was a risk, but one that might get his dad to focus.

  Gus dropped his head, hands dangled between spread knees. “His father will kill him.”

  “Not if he did it,” Aaron said.

  “Yeah, Karl hates the mages. Everything he had was tied up in those glass factories, but he’s not stupid.”

  Gus pressed out his last set, grunted at the end, and collapsed with a clang onto the hooks. When he sat up, Aaron disassembled the bar.

  “How much did you run today?”

  “Five miles.”

  “Do ten tomorrow. One of you knuckleheads will break through that barrier one of these days. I bet we take State back first try.” Gus stood, the towel twisted between his hands. “And, hey. Brandt will forget this. Or you’ll tell him to. And if he doesn’t, he can start running with you, school day or not. It’s time to get that kid’s mind on something other than booze.”

  An excellent plan, Aaron thought as he headed upstairs for a shower, if he ever found Brandt.

  If Brandt wasn’t in the human part of Trifecta, that left the mage neighborhoods. There was a decent chance drunk Brandt tried to find Center, just a few miles north from the party spot. Of course, he didn’t know how to get there. Brandt might be lost. Or worse, caught.

  Would the Fae jail a human? Aaron wasn’t sure his dad had an answer for that one, and if Gus learned Brandt was missing, he’d go straight to Karl. Aaron had run interference between Brandt, Karl, and the world for so long, he wasn’t ready to give up, yet.

  Showered and dressed for the day, Aaron made some space at the island where he sat on a round, wood stool. He swallowed a bowl of oatmeal and a few hard boiled eggs while he tried to figure out what to do next. His best bet would be to track down Nicu, then confront the Fae most likely to have something to do with Brandt’s disappearance. How to do that?

  The Trimarked girl.

  She didn’t live far from him. The paved street continued three houses down. After that, it turned to gravel for a few yards before a gate blocked where the forest had overtaken the road that had once led to the campground.

  In the space between the last colonial house and the gate, a concrete structure that had been a part of the old flooding system perched up on the hill. Ember’s mom, Susan Lee, converted it into a home years ago.

  The whole of Trifecta knew Nicu guarded the Trimarked on behalf of the Fae. Their run-in last night proved it.

  Strength to strength, his dad said.

  Aaron pushed away from the island and ran out the front door. Fist to fist sounded like an even enough match up if it meant he found his friend.

  7

  Ember

  Ember cowered on her low mattress, saturated in the darkness of her windowless room. Breath gasped into her body, rattled back out. Holy fades. Her forehead dropped, only fingers locked into the length of her hair kept her head from falling to the floor at her feet. She’d slept in winks, listened to each breeze and tree branch creak, always on the verge of losing her battle with fear.

  Would Edan keep his word? Had he promised not to say anything? Were the Fae coming to get her, to test her, to lock her up if they found out their binding magic hadn’t been enough?

  Sure, Chase knew, and even helped her out sometimes. He offered nothing for free, but the cost was always one she could afford.

  She could not afford to owe a Fae. She could not trust Edan. Ember blew warm breath between trembling fingers, tried to find heat and a solution.

  Her only contact with the Fae was with Nicu. If she found trouble, he appeared. She pissed him off with minimal effort, which was only fair after his constant reminders to keep to herself. Then again, if she’d listened to him — it didn’t matter. She needed to ask someone for help.

  Ember pulled the chain connected to the single, naked lightbulb stuck into her closet-slash-bedroom ceiling. She grabbed her pillow, a bunched up sweater, and threw it on over the slept-in waffle henley. The open clothes rack that lined the wall opposite her bed provided a thicker, larger hoodie to zip on top. A candy wrapper in the bottom of her shoe blocked the holes worn through the soles to keep her feet dry and it wouldn’t slip as long as she tied the laces tight enough. The shoes still fit, so she didn’t want to trade for new ones, yet.

  Her closet opened to an unobstructed view of the front door, which boasted their only window. No light came through the panes. Too dark to head out.

  Ember peeked around the ancient sofa sleeper that no longer folded into a couch. Her mom laid on pillows and watched the always-on-TV, tuned to the single channel Trifecta broadcasted. Children’s cartoons. Early morning, just not sunrise.

  “Hungry?” she asked her mom.

  Susan hummed in answer. Ember skirted their bistro size dining set to grab a pot off the stove and filled it from their only sink, part of their two piece bathroom opposite her closet. Water boiling, she reached into one of their three lower cupboards and grabbed a brand new container of quick oats brought in with last night’s haul. Another cabinet held bowls and spoons.

  “Leave the oven on?”

  Ember blinked in slow acceptance. “Of course.” Now she understood why Susan stayed under the blanket. “I’ll hang the wall quilts soon.”

  Electricity came free with their location, a forgotten city-powered utility building. The furnace, however, hadn’t worked for as long as they’d lived here and they’d found alternatives for staying warm. Though hanging the blankets took from the layers of Ember’s bed, if she didn’t cover the stippled concrete walls the freeze became unbearable, even with the stove’s heat.

  Oatmeal done, Ember carried a bowl to her mom along with a mug of fresh water. She grabbed her own food and climbed in next to Susan, focused on the animated antics to mask anxiety and keep from checking how far into dawn the day had moved.

  “Are you home today?” Susan’s eyes drooped and Ember eased her dishes away.

  “I have things to do.” Susan didn’t react to Ember’s canned response.

  By the time she cleaned up breakfast, enough sunlight brightened the room that Ember flicked off the electric lights. Her mom had sunk deeper into her pillows and cartoons had shifted to the local news - the only news.

  She was ready to leave. Ember had kept calm for her mom’s sake, but with nothing left to do, she’d soon pace a hole in the floor. Better to face things in the sunlight and gain an advantage in the meantime. After that, find a more secure place to hide than her dead end house.

  Susan’s skeletal hand shot out and wrapped around Ember’s narrow wrist. Ember focused on her mom’s stormy grey eyes, judged the expanse between Susan’s lids and thinned lips to see anxiety buzzed within her, but would not be debilitating.

  “Stay away from the magic,” Susan begged.

  “I know,” Ember assured her mom.

  “He tricked me. Hurt me. Stay away from magic.”

  Ember flinched at the mention of her father, a Wizard who’d broken the law, and then somehow left Trifecta right as Ember was being born. She’d wondered in the past if he’d had the same skill she had with the barrier, but he hadn’t returned, and she couldn’t get out. It wasn’t a question worth losing sleep over. He was gone.

  Ember placed a gentle kiss on her mom’s forehead and smoothed thin brown hair back toward her messy bun until Susan let her go.

  “Get some rest,” Ember said.

  Part of their building did not add to their living space, but held a separate entrance to the tunnels. Sh
e had used it to return home last night, but this morning her path kept her top side. She hopped along the hill and landed in the street. Hands in her pockets, she scanned the area. To the right lay a gated, disintegrated road into the forest. It also led to the Fae.

  Ember turned left toward the well-maintained, idyllic suburb of human homes. The neighborhood was planned so each house faced the valley, maple and birch trees blocking the neighbors and downtown from that picturesque view. A few of the local pines had squeezed back onto some of their land with help of the wildlife and peeked in green towers above the fiery shades of autumn. She pulled up her hood, curled her shoulders and kept her eyes lowered as she made her way up the street.

  A door squeaked in imitation of the happy birds singing from the interspersed forest. Ember angled her vision in that direction, sure it was nothing, cautious nevertheless.

  This time it was something. Damn it. Aaron Harwell loped over the white-painted stairs of his porch, across the red-brick path to his gate where he vaulted the pickets.

  The reason for his athleticism? His eyes never left her, as if he’d known she’d be along and had waited. Had he discerned what she had done to the cars last night?

  “Where’s Nicu?”

  Not what she expected, and something she didn’t care to know given the current circumstances.

  “Hello to you, too. How did you sleep?” She used a sickly sweet tone she hoped hid the hitch in her voice and, if lucky, would deter him.

  “I need to talk to him. He always pops up around you.”

  “Yep. True stalker material. Do you think I should report him to the police?” Aaron’s brow furrowed. Apparently he didn’t like jokes.

  “This is serious, Ember.”

  Ember shook off the odd sensation that tickled across her nape with the use of her name. Few people used her name. No humans did, other than her mom. It was... peculiar and unsettling to have someone talk to her as a person, not just the Trimarked.

  “Walk toward Fae lands. I’m sure he, or another Fae, will show up.” Aaron flinched and shoved his fists into jean pockets. Hunched shoulders showed he wasn’t ready to go that far.

  “Brandt disappeared.”

  Oh. Fade.

  Ember swallowed hard, shook her hair forward to hide the sudden pallor of her cheeks. This would go down as her worst mistake, ever.

  “Maybe he fell off.” She tried not to choke on the words meaning off the end of the world, out of Trifecta, and bonus points for being truthful.

  “This is not funny,” Aaron spoke through gritted teeth. “He got into a fight with your Fae boyfriend before he disappeared.”

  Well, shit, at least Nicu wasn’t aware of what happened and helping Aaron might get the human off her back. Then again, if Edan had told his leader what he’d learned, then drawing Fae attention to herself for the sake of getting Aaron to leave her alone would not be the best plan. Ignoring the situation proved pointless when Aaron slipped to the front of Ember to stop her.

  “Do you understand? Brandt is missing. I want to find him. I think Nicu can help. Now, where is he?”

  He spoke as if to a three-year-old, or somebody stupid, but anger eluded her. Instead, she fought off an image of Brandt, and tried not to remember the shock and horror on his face when he realized what she’d done. What Edan now knew she was capable of. That which Aaron Harwell could not find out.

  Her fingertips patted her thighs, directed her nerves so she kept her words steady.

  “I’m not the one who stalks, if you recall.”

  “Fine.” Aaron danced a few feet back, freed his hands for balance. “Nicu!” He shouted across the neighborhood, into this world of family homes guarded by gilded trees and picketed gates. “Nicu!” As if Fae answered human summons.

  Ember held her breath, nerves and disbelief focused on the boy in the middle of the street making a fool of himself. Tension coiled in her stomach, then punched between clenched lips in the form of an incredulous bark of laughter. Aaron stopped mid-inhale, his open mouth slammed into a scowl.

  “He’s my friend.”

  Not so funny. Ember lowered her chin over the tight bruise at her neck.

  “In that case.” She stepped around Aaron and kept walking.

  Aaron caught up. Ember huffed but didn’t increase her speed. It wasn’t like she could outrun him.

  “Okay, I get it. He was a jerk last night. He was drunk. I swear, he’s a good guy.”

  “Yep. The poster child for a great education and closet rapist. But as long as it’s only the Trimarked girl….”

  To his credit, Aaron blanched.

  They reached a T-shaped intersection. The perpendicular street to the right remained unbroken with a solid stretch of pavement, and to the left lay a pockmarked, vehicle death trap. Aaron’s feet swung to cross the smooth black pathway that marked his domain. Ember watched him go a few strides, then picked her way across the seldom used path toward the Circle.

  “Hey, what?” Aaron called behind her. A groan escaped her when the sound of his footsteps turned back in her direction. “Where are you going? Those are Witch lands.” He almost grabbed her arm in his distress. Cute.

  Ember flashed silver eyes, a challenge in her feral smile. “Well, Aaron, if you want to find your friend, you must learn how to take risks.”

  Aaron contemplated the path before them. A line of boarded-up, weathered houses marked the end of the human neighborhood. Bushes once pruned into decorative living hedges now over grew their beds and hid the old sidewalk until even these last signs of pre-convergence gave way to the forest.

  “Do you think they’ll know something about Brandt?”

  Well, fading fades. She’d messed up that one. Aaron crunched to her side, hands tucked into his letter jacket, then back to his jean pockets, then out again to cross and hold beneath opposite arms.

  “I’ve never been there. Be my guide?” he asked.

  “Verge, no. You’re on your own.”

  “Okay. I’ll follow.”

  Ember considered punching him in the gut, but figured he’d still scramble after her, if a few more feet behind. Not worth the energy. She continued toward the Witch’s compound and stomped a little louder to hide the echo of a second set of footsteps, an attempt to pretend, at least, that she wasn’t being forced to endure his company.

  8

  Ember

  The Pine River cut the Circle’s territory in half. The barrier butted up against stark cliffs denoting the sharp rise of the mountain. Though this resulted in the fewest livable acres, it had not deterred the Witches in their choice of the industrial zone, built on the most level ground in all Trifecta. It needed them the most, they said, and no one else had been eager to take it once they realized life couldn’t go on as normal.

  The coven had demolished the old roads. Concrete chunks were piled along with other raw materials waiting for transfer to an empty warehouse. They had turned every hard won, cleared patch into something wonderful. Car parks became flower beds divided by paths and pillars of stacked, potted herbs. Factories converted into vine-covered apartment homes with blooms brightening up the surfaces. Carved stone walkways wound through the gardens without a straight line in sight.

  Aaron gawked as he stepped from broken road to a manicured, gravel separation between entropy and design. His eyes danced in response to the beauty and chaos of the ever changing neighborhood. Ember waited for his attention to leave the organized reconstruction and listened for the audible choke the moment he saw the mages themselves.

  This race did not believe in subtlety. Everyone had a shade of red hair. The color held special meaning for the Witches. Red represented passion, blood, life, love, and creation’s beginnings. Few sported natural ginger tresses. Burgundy appeared to be the trend, though Ember caught a few magentas and fiery orange hues. Their clothes ranged from flow wraps to leather pants and tied cotton shirts, fitted tops and flowing skirts or wide legged slacks. Whatever they wore was organic, colorful, and created
a garden of people alongside their berries and roses.

  They were unashamed of their power. Even with strangers among them, gentle fingers coaxed magic to speed the growth of sprouts. Stones rippled along a laid path. The Wizard manipulating them frowned and gestured to encourage unique patterns as he debated which to choose. A group of three mages Worked over a carved fountain and encouraged water from deep within the earth to spring up for a natural, magical source.

  Aaron couldn’t decide where to look, and the way he blanched or glanced at his feet suggested he wasn’t sure he should.

  “Haven’t you seen a Witch before?” Ember mocked. Aaron shook his head.

  Ember’s amusement smashed into irritation. Of course not. Witches visited town to find people who needed the items they uncovered and wanted to repurpose. Witches were the source for machine parts, responsible for revitalized soil that gave human gardens added longevity, grew and sold much of the produce and wove at least half of the new cloth found in Trifecta. But no, golden boy had never seen a Witch.

  Finished with him, Ember lengthened her stride and headed beyond the reclaimed land toward the not yet touched mess at the back. She had her own mystery to figure out.

  “Hey, wait! How do I find out about Brandt?”

  “I suggest asking questions.”

  “But… but who?”

  Ember turned, elbows at her hips, palms flipped out between them to show she had nothing for him. “As I’m not in the habit of looking for lost people, I can’t help you. Start over there.” She gestured in a random direction, then left Aaron to his own devices.

  The colors of cultivation gave way to heavy grays deeper into the Circle. Perfumed air soured with the off gassing of old, burnt fossil fuels, mold and filth. Cats lounged in whatever sun there was between broken buildings and mounds of clutter, soaking up energy for the coming night when they earned their keep by catching rodents, cockroaches and other pests.