by C. K. Sorens
“Ah, I’m not looking for a bouquet,” he said.
The woman’s earthy, musical laugh felt too intimate with the walls of plants around them.
“Of course not.” She gestured once again for him to follow. With a huff of confusion, Aaron did as he was told, pretty sure he would not get what he wanted, while completely certain he didn’t want to offend a Witch.
Leona led him to a counter height wooden table covered with a round of linen cloth, knives, scissors, a variety of bowls and odd, thick sticks. She laid out her bounty over an empty stretch, fingered the creamy gem hanging from her earring, then pulled the loop out of her ear with a quick tug. With efficient motions, she placed a white marble bowl onto a spot in the sun, and set a glass pitcher of clean water beside it.
With a quiet song on her lips, Leona held the stone in the light, splashed a small amount of water over and around it into the bowl, then returned her earring. She didn’t use the whole of anything she picked, but combed over, pet and popped off pieces.
“All of Nature holds magic. Witches and Wizards sense it as a force through all Created things, blood without a pulse that can be removed either with deep magic Work, or by crushing. With crushing, you have the added benefit of being able to blend the nuances of each piece of Nature, which is why we chose so many components for your friendship request.”
“Like the water being pulled for the fountain was magic.”
“Ah, you saw that? I’m glad to hear they’ve gotten that far. And no, the water itself isn’t magic. There is magic in the water that the Witches and Wizards are manipulating, and then the water simply follows.”
The fragments mounded in the bowl and soaked up water. Leona slipped the black gem from her opposite ear and doused it with another pour of from the pitcher. She mashed everything up into a goopy brown paste.
“Take off your shirt.”
“Wait-what?”
The Witch turned to him as she grabbed her bowl.
“You’re looking for a friend.”
“Yes,” he agreed, the word drawn out over the nervous presumption she didn’t mean Brandt.
“Raise your shirt.”
Aaron’s fingers shook as he unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off, careful to lay it on a clean section of the counter. He tugged his charcoal colored tee from the one place he tucked it at the front of his belt, then pulled it off. The Witch grinned.
“A healthy boy, I see.”
Aaron flushed and turned his head with a small cough. Leona snickered, dipped her hands in the goo, and reached out to paint Aaron’s chest. He tilted his chin against his neck to watch her draw out a triangle with dots at the vertices and swirls inside and out.
“Now, Fae need not speak while they Work, but therein lies the beauty of differences. I’m going to start a chant, one that will help direct the magic of plants into your inherent magic.”
“I don’t have magic.”
Leona tsked. “You weren’t listening. All of Nature has magic. Not all beings can access it. Unfortunately, dear, humans do not sense or use magic. I explained the plants, so you have an idea of what is happening. At this point, I will sing words you know, but will not recognize as they interlace with magic, but it’s nothing to be afraid of.”
With that, Leona’s eyes drifted closed and her lips murmured over a song as soft and warm as springtime sunshine. Whatever words she spoke became another musical note as they drifted through his ears. The Witch pulled an orange stone from one of her bracelets as if she knew each one of them intimately. Holding the gem between her thumb and palm, Leona raised her hand parallel with her artwork, closed her eyes, and sang.
The plant goo flashed. Aaron braced himself against the pressure of a shove, though she hadn’t made a move. The light dimmed, and the design sank into his pores, disappeared from view.
Leona sighed and shook her head with a smile.
“Well, candles might have supported the Work, but better to keep flames far from my babies.”
“Um. So. Magic?” Aaron stumbled. Leona winked and cleaned up unused plant pieces.
“It’s what Witches do.”
“But the Laws—”
Leona pinned him with a sharp gaze. “Did you come to me for help?”
“Y-yes.”
“Did you walk with me and tell me of your needs?”
“Yes.”
“Did you participate willingly?” Aaron stopped himself from saying no because, in truth, he had followed every instruction.
“Yes. Just uncomfortable.”
“Well.” She tapped his cheek. “You are a first timer. You should put your clothes back on and find your friend.”
“So you know where he is?” Aaron grabbed his shirt and threw it on, flush with hope her spell had given her a lead on Brandt.
“He? No he, but I imagine she finished her own task and I’m sure you won’t want to miss her.” Aaron stared at Leona, features slack as he ruffled his curls.
“The Trimarked Child.”
“Oh!” Aaron caught his jacket and rushed for the door, skidded back from a crossing when he’d passed the main path out.
Not that Ember was his friend by a long shot, but she was still his only link to finding Brandt as his journey down the gnome-hole had proved fruitless. He did not want to lose her.
10
Ember
Uncertain if her visit with Devi had turned out successful, Ember passed through the human ruins and the completed part of the Circle, focused inward, the corner of her bottom lip held between her teeth.
Don’t negotiate with the Fae. Rule one. The only way to do that was to throw herself out.
The thing was, it wasn’t possible. Ember discovered five years ago she could tap out a particular pattern onto the barrier, a rat-a-tat, a knock on a door. She’d been tossing a ball above her head in a gradual arc toward the invisible wall she leaned against. The trees offered shade on that hot day, and the wind hit her back through the barrier, free to move through the very thing that held her upright. The toy returned on the same bend, man-made things as unable to pass as their makers, and she caught it. She’d been proud of that trick. Though, as her only entertainment, perfection was all but guaranteed.
One hand tossed, one hand stretched out against the barrier for no particular reason.
Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap. Pointer, middle, ring finger, then reversed.
Her ball hadn’t returned. Ember twisted around, then caught the dark blue of the rubber from the corner of her eye. Gaped. The ball had rolled to rest in a refuge of pine needles, and a slice of sunlight spotlit where it rested on the outside.
From there, Ember tried to tap herself out, press herself out. She pounded with her fist, knocked with her feet, but only her fingers ever created a unique opening. Ember started testing how long the portal remained open. She collected trash on her walks to see how many things she could toss through, how far away she could run, turn and throw something out, all before it closed again.
That’s how Chase had discovered her secret. Ember thought she’d been safe in that quiet space of forest, had always double checked she wasn’t being followed by Witch or Fae before she experimented. She must have gotten careless because Chase slipped past her guard and found her throwing chicken bones. She’d been too afraid to leave, frozen with uncertainty.
“Can people go through?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I can’t.”
“Maybe you’re just supposed to hold it open.”
So started their odd relationship, with her passing a few of his crew through to get outside intel. Ember negotiated for food, clothes, blankets, things she and her mom needed. Ember had been so relieved Chase kept her secret, she never cared why he wanted his particular favors.
Never imagined she’d be grateful for it, either, and she shuddered at the memory of his promise to have his guys on the outside control Brandt.
“Hey.”
Ember jumped, turned with hands halfway raised into f
ists. Aaron backed up and surprise rounded his features.
Ah, the other side of the problem. Ember resumed her walk, eyes forward as they crossed the gravel leading to the human neighborhood.
“Nothing about Brandt, thanks for asking.”
“I didn’t,” she snapped back. Aaron croaked half of a word, thought better of it, and settled his lips into a frown.
“Didn’t get what you wanted, either, huh?”
Ember scowled. His words hit home.
“I don’t know what else I expected,” she said. A spell. Concrete advice. Not a list of rules so ridiculous they must be accurate. What did it even mean, state what you want until you both stop talking? How did you know what the agreement was by the time you finished? How was that nonsense worth a look at her magic-made tattoo? Ember kicked a rock that only rolled a few inches into a depression in the broken road. About as far as she’d gotten, too.
“Does Nicu check in with you?”
A headache blossomed over Ember’s brow. Not this again.
“He doesn’t. I don’t even see him most of the time. They’re not really my babysitters.”
“Oh. I heard… I guess we all thought he was always with you. I mean, in the stories he’s invisible until you’re messed with, then he’s very much there and one pissed pixie.”
“If only. You are messing me and he is nowhere to be found.” Thankfully, but not that word out loud.
“Well, yeah, but I won’t hurt you. I just want to find Brandt.”
Ember watched Aaron for a moment from the corner of her eye and tried to figure out if he was for real or not.
“Are all humans like you?”
Aaron whipped his head around, his brow twisted in confusion.
“What do you—” His mouth shut and his eyes widened as he puzzled it out. “Oh.”
Yeah, oh. When you’re deemed invisible, when no race claimed you, you didn’t hang out with that many people. At least she hadn’t had to say it.
Ember sighed herself out of reverie, and looked around to see how close they were to his house, how soon she might get rid of him. They’d passed the white and blue structure and were closer to her home than his. She wanted to demand why he still walked with her, turned to confront him, then froze.
Edan stood in the shadows of the forest, leaned against one of the outer trees, eyes focused on the road. Not inconspicuous, meaning he’d planned for her to see that he waited.
Ember swallowed despite a dry mouth. Well. She wasn’t ready for him. Ember gripped Aaron’s elbow and pulled him up the hill, not to her house, but to the side door that opened to a part of the building separate from her home. Edan wouldn’t approach her if she had Aaron with her, so the human had to stay. Beyond that, there was one place the Fae would not follow.
“What are you doing?”
“I have an idea.” Her words chased each other. It was more of a reaction than a plan, but she went with it, anyway. Ember pulled the monochrome door open.
“About Brandt?”
Fading Brandt!
“I thought of someone who can help.”
Never mind that she meant someone to help her, not him.
What Chase would do about Aaron was yet to be seen. Topsiders were not welcome where they headed. She led them into the staircase, ready to find out.
11
Ember
Ceiling-mounted solar powered lights cast a soft glow that fell short of filling the tunnel. It took a moment to adjust to the gloom. Ember was familiar with the passage and could walk while her eyes dilated, but she paused for Aaron’s sake.
When the rectangular lines of the concrete passageway came into focus, she moved. Aaron hovered, never too far, as if an invisible tether kept them close. Even more than at the Circle, he appeared uncomfortable, which was fine with Ember. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice her own freak out over Edan, not that he had any clue how she behaved.
They plodded over damp concrete. Aaron’s steps pound out a harsh cadence. Ember’s softer step whispered more often with her shorter stride. She didn’t mind the pace. As certain as she felt Edan wouldn’t follow, she did not want to encourage her current unlucky streak.
The pair reached another metal door and Ember pounded the side of her fist against it. The buzz of many voices filled the tunnel when the door eased open to the clubhouse. Formerly a large holding tank, the space had been meant to capture too much snowmelt or flood waters. The once yearly events had disappeared over time, long before the Fade. Now it served as an exclusive hideaway, and the current gatekeeper’s amused brown eyes narrowed when he spotted Aaron.
“Why did you bring a bouncer to the party?” Keegan demanded.
“He wants to learn to box.”
“Cross training.” Aaron played along.
“Right. Because pretty boy soccer players are great at getting punch drunk.” Keegan mimicked a jab to his own cheek. “But sure. Why not? Ember never brings guests.”
Keegan threw open the door and invited them into the large, circular room with a flourish. Ember took her first deep breath since Edan and wondered how long she could hide here. Aaron was drop-jaw awed once again by a place he’d never suspected existed within Trifecta.
They had separated the generous space into a boxing gym to the left and a pub to the right, complete with a kitchen. Couches and heavy armchairs danced in the center of the room, pulled to wherever the current occupant required. Well-used round tables and mismatched chairs spread out in front of the kitchen and a few dark wood, patched vinyl booths pressed against the outer wall in between doors.
There were ten entrances and exits into the Clubhouse. Each led to a different tunnel of the concrete labyrinth that continued to multiple spots within the lower half of Trifecta. Ember had used this system last night to get home. Passage through any door was limited to help keep the movements of their society secret, and to keep topsiders from interfering with the few places the Halfers called theirs.
Halfers weren’t the only ones who found refuge underground. People whose lifestyle or gender didn’t match up to their topsider parents’ expectations made their way here. Runaways from homes where fists were the preferred method of communication were brought in, as well.
The community was almost as big as any of the three that lived topside. Despite the terminology, the outcasts didn’t live underground. They squatted in between the established races in the old maintenance spaces and abandoned houses, using the tunnels to travel, or in the Clubhouse’s case, hangout en masse.
After a quick scan, Ember found Chase in a semi-circular booth. He displayed shaggy red-gold hair that hinted at Witch genes along with his dark green eyes. He never told her about his parents, and she never asked, respecting the rules of the game.
When Chase noticed her, a brow raised in question and summons. Ember checked on Aaron. Keegan tugged him toward the ring. Not interested in getting between the boxer and his newest student, Ember passed by the makeshift kitchen, wove around and between the crowd until she pulled out a chair.
“I can’t watch the room if you sit there,” Chase stopped her. Ember took a spot next to him on the curved bench instead. “Are you here to train?”
“The ring looks taken, and I didn’t bring my gym bag.”
“Self defense is priceless. Besides, you’re good for it.” His confidence in her ability to pay shot a shiver of surprise into her chest. “If I were you, I’d be more worried about the cost of bringing a topsider here than me getting a laugh in while you try to take Keegan.”
The weight of his words swept away the astonishment, and she wondered if he would use that to talk numbers. How much did she owe him for Brandt? For dragging Aaron to the Clubhouse?
Chase cultivated silence into an uncomfortable atmosphere while he watched Keegan give Aaron a crash course. Before long, they stripped off their shirts and put on pads for a sink-or-swim match, no training wheels for the interloper.
“He’s handsome, at least, despite the charm on his
chest.”
“You can see a spell?” Ember straightened to glimpse Aaron’s uncovered skin but couldn’t find evidence of a mark.
Chase spun his glass and lowered his volume to float beneath the noise.
“I’ve been honing my skills.”
“Can you tell what it is?” she asked.
“Not precisely, though it has a be kind to others vibe. Did you know he visited a Witch?”
“Yeah.” Ember licked her lips. “We just came from there.”
“Together?”
“Sort of. We talked to different mages. He’s been tailing me today.”
“Is he giving you shit about the cars?”
“Brandt,” Ember answered. Chase’s face fell into neutral lines. “He assumes sticking with me will help him find Nicu. He thinks Nicu knows about Brandt.”
“You want me to send him away?”
“No. I can handle him by myself. I just needed… time.”
“Hmm.” Chase returned to the entertainment in the boxing ring.
Ember chuckled when Aaron took his first hit with the grace of a puppy. The golden boy shook it off to her surprise, raised his gloves and doubled down.
“He’s a quick learner,” Chase murmured. He sipped his drink, then offered it to her. Ember hesitated, but accepted the full glass. After a mouthful of water, she tried to hand it back.
“Keep it,” he insisted. “Germs.” Ember blinked at him, drank again and placed the cup on the table, nervous about the gift.
Her fingers drew in the condensation outside the green plastic. She didn’t know what to do if she couldn’t escape here without worrying over hidden costs.
Aaron called time after five minutes of lessons spaced out by bouts of punches. The opponents tapped gloves, and the match ended. Keegan led Aaron to the kitchen for a drink, then over to Chase. The boys were wet with sweat. The way Keegan shoulder bumped Aaron, a new bromance had been born.