by C. K. Sorens
“You’re seriously going to climb that? The Fae haven’t been this interested in the barrier since its appearance.”
Nicu ignored her and climbed, searched out hand and footholds with sight and touch, kept close to the edge and tested the energy every few feet, as he made sure nothing had changed. These areas were considered impenetrable, not only because of the barrier, but also geography, which made it a prime location for an attempted break.
Devi and her one visible scout followed the gradual incline as he crossed the cliff face until the elevation and bluff converged. Feet back on the ground, a hard breath out, Nicu brushed dust and pebbles from his sweater.
“All right, Nicu, I admit that was impressive. And here you didn’t even break a sweat.”
Devi brushed over his forearms as if testing the dampness of his skin. Hidden between thumb and palm, he felt the cool gem touch first. Her fingers followed and dragged a flow of power. He twisted back a step, body tense in defense.
The scout’s bow raised, focused on Nicu even though Devi had offended. The Witch wrapped her hand around the crystal, still unseen, and tucked it into her pocket.
“Ember saw me this morning.” Devi’s warning to let it go, a signal to not alert the mages watching.
He would play.
“Why did she visit a Witch?”
“There are questions we cannot ask directly. It’s rarely certain why she visits.”
Nicu stepped back, accepted the Witch’s veiled apology, and debated the words needed to keep the surface conversation light while the true meaning prevailed.
“If you discover it is important, you will tell me.”
Devi’s smile was full of teeth.
“All in the spirit of coexistence. I assume you would do the same.”
Nicu twisted his wrist against the ghost chill of the gem. He wondered what Devi searched for, and wanted to know how it pertained to Ember.
He returned to checking the barrier, questions unasked. Currently, Ember remained controlled. He tolerated Devi’s curiosity for the moment, and would remember to follow up.
“All is well, then?” Devi asked as they bordered Fae land at the end of the sweep.
“The barrier is as expected. Your cooperation is appreciated.”
Nicu’s eyes flickered toward Devi’s pocket. She marked the movement and nodded in reply. Satisfied, Nicu stepped once more into Fae territory, back into the patterns of aligned magic, full circle.
Now to visit the anomaly.
No Man’s Land, the true center of Trifecta, where Fae, Witch and human energies negated each other, repelled magic and nature, and created a neutral zone. Nothing grew here. Animals avoided the space. Trees had fallen years ago, possibly at the point the barrier appeared. Grass had died and entropy ruled.
Nicu’s lungs worked hard to bring in stale air. His feet sunk deep into the mass of decay. He crouched and sifted through the brown pine needles, leaves and organic material on the forest floor, the energy heavy with lack of life. Even the sounds of the inhabited forest around him were blocked from the clearing.
He lifted his hand, sprinkled debris and watched it fall without interference. No breeze, no flutter, just simple gravity drawing the pieces back to earth.
Nothing had been through here. The only disturbances were his own divots in an otherwise plush area of decay. Yet….
Something tugged at him, a belief in his gut indicating not all was as it seemed. The silence distracted him, his discomfort overshadowed what caused his foreboding.
After long moments, Nicu stood. The dome proved unmolested upon inspection. No Man’s Land was undisturbed. Now he needed to see if he could find the fragments of barrier energy Branna had noticed. He turned toward the Trimarked Child’s home.
The returned breeze announced the shift from No Man’s to human land. Squirrels hustled between trees, sought the perfect secret place to bury their nuts. Birds called to each other, their songs urgent with the turning of the seasons upon them. Nicu absorbed the sounds, let them roll through him as he loped in a random zig zag, careful never to create a trail despite the many times he’d made his way to the same spot.
From a few trees deep, Nicu examined the dilapidated yard surrounding the concrete structure the Lees called home. From the shadows, he searched for energies different from what should exist. His senses skimmed the area, tripped over an anomaly, but could not grasp anything solid. He advanced, narrowed his eyes in concentration, held his breath in frustration.
What did he sense? Was it Veil energy?
He couldn’t tell other than it was outside the natural streams of power within human lands. He had to get closer.
The door on the side of the hybrid girl’s dwelling opened. Instinct sent him back into camouflage. Practice kept him hidden against Ember’s habitual scan of the terrain before she turned to someone else leaving the tunnel.
Aaron Harwell emerged from the staircase. Nicu straightened from his tree, eyes strained in focus, one ear tilted forward to catch any sound.
Hunched shoulders, Harwell’s hands sat deep in his jacket pockets, his face downcast. Ember’s entire form stiffened as he continued to speak to her, to approach her. Nicu’s breath stopped. His blood slowed to keep him rooted where he hid, and he waited for a sign she might need him.
He remained motionless, patient, controlled, until the moment he saw something he could never unsee that brought an unexpected, unwelcome end to Nicu’s sense of security.
14
Ember
Ember matched Aaron’s reluctant pace. He scuffed his toes in the dust and pain outlined his face, clear even in the tunnel’s gloom.
Ember swallowed and averted her eyes, tried to remember she didn’t care what this human boy thought or felt.
“He did that to you?” The constriction in his words cut through her, and she jerked out a nod. “Fade, Ember, I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault. No reason to apologize.”
“If I hadn’t let Brandt go off half-cocked, or if I’d kept him at the party…. I guess Nicu doesn’t babysit you.”
Ember choked out a pained laugh and stopped her steps, turned her back to Aaron and pressed her palms over her cheeks.
“It was nice to see you have friends, though.” There he went, taking it one step further.
“Nicu is not my friend.”
“No, I meant Chase.”
Ember faced him, her brow furrowed. “You have the wrong idea. Chase and I have a business relationship. Right now I am in his debt.”
“Is that why you didn’t finish the water he gave you?”
Ember shrugged against the tension in her neck. The hair on her arms raised as an uncomfortable buzz crawled over her skin. Aaron saw too much. That meant she should get him out of here, send him home, away from her as fast as possible.
At the exit, Ember threw her weight into the bar and thrust it open. She took the time to scan the hillside despite her agitation before she let Aaron follow.
“Will you forgive me?” he asked.
The handle slipped out of Ember’s grip and the door slammed.
“What?”
“For Brandt. For not stopping him last night. Forgive me?”
Bile burned Ember’s tongue. She looked toward the forest, uncertain of how to act.
“What if I said I need you to?”
Ember jerked her attention to the impossible boy before her. He took it as an invitation to step closer, curled his shoulders to draw in his height and leaned forward.
Ember’s stomach twisted. She angled away from him, not understanding what his game was.
“I can’t help you find Brandt.”
“I know.” Aaron stood still, his eyes danced across her features.
“Go home, Aaron.”
“I need you to.”
Ember moved backward. The icy steel door blocked her escape.
“Ember, I—” He closed the distance between them. Ember raised her hands to ward him off, stom
ach sucked in on an inhale. Aaron’s hand gripped her wrist.
Power slipped between their skin, separated his touch from hers with a hard, invisible shield. Dust flew up around them in an artificial burst of wind. Dirt struck Aaron’s eyes, pressured him to move away.
He threw up an arm, letting her go. Air settled back into stagnant movement, the only sounds were their heavy breathing. Blue light sparked between spread fingers and drew both their attention to the beautiful death sentence.
Ember trembled, her entire body primed for fight or flight.
Except she couldn’t run. He might tell someone.
Except she couldn’t fight. She might give herself away and make Aaron aware of her ability to open the barrier.
“Verge,” she choked. The door supported her. Aaron shifted to block anyone’s view from the street, open palms out at his sides, a helpless gesture as he stared at the uncontrolled power.
“What do I do?”
Leave me alone! Ember wanted to scream the words, to hit him with the pent up pressure caught behind her ribs. The visible energy flattened, spread up her arms and caressed every bit of her body. Tears pooled in her eyes as she watched the movement. Her skin was covered in the same impenetrable magic of the barrier, power that glowed pale blue with painless flickers. Painless, but not harmless.
Ember lowered her head in forlorn denial, kept her hands out as if to push the magic and the truth away from herself. A thick well of moisture fell, saturated by blue-tinged energy as it left the curve of her cheek in descent.
Swift, warm air scented with pine and mist pressed against Ember’s side. A long forearm covered in curved tattoos slipped under hers and caught the single tear in mid-fall.
Tension eased, became the weight of understanding. Acceptance.
“She is not attacking me.”
Aaron doing what? Defending? It wouldn’t do any good, but how would the golden boy understand what this meant?
Heaviness too strong to fight kept her neck bowed. She lifted her eyes toward her fate, to receive Nicu and through him, the Fae. Her attention caught with morbid fascination on his fingertips as they darkened with the movement of his tattoos.
Magic pumped in pin-prick rivulets through her body with each pass of Nicu’s thumb over his fingers, her heart beat in time. The ripples condensed at her chest, flowed along the length of her arms and pooled in the spaces between her fingers to condense into a dancing blue web of electrical flashes. The power sparked into the air, drops rose to the sky, rain in reverse.
Lightning danced between the clouds and thunder rumbled a quiet, deep threat.
Ember flexed her fingers, checked to see they weren’t shaking or glowing, not believing it had been that easy. Dissipated because of Nicu.
In debt to Nicu.
She tucked her hands behind her back and lowered her lashes.
“See, under control,” Aaron announced, unaware Ember had nothing to do with the fix.
“She’s leaking.”
“Um, you know what tears are, don’t you? Or do Fae not cry?”
“Always so reckless, little hybrid.”
Ember’s eyes snapped open at his challenge. She sucked in a deep breath to forget how tired she was. Straightened her spine to chase away the fear. She pulled forth aggravations. Every time he followed her, how he showed up to keep others from her so she remained segregated, and each stupid time she’d wanted him to interfere, and he hadn’t.
Nicu leaned back to give her room. The tension left his face as the fervor returned to hers and anger flushed her skin. He did not dare bring out the fight in her if all he meant to do was punish her for possessing power she had not chosen.
Then he noticed her throat, and he stilled.
“Who hurt you?”
Oh, verge, the bruise from Brandt that led to more proof of her ability. Ember’s eyes flickered to Aaron in alarm. Nicu took it as an answer.
As if Nicu were the only one who could move, he turned on Aaron. One hand flattened against the human’s collar bone, propelled him onto the brick, fingers slid up his neck to mirror the bruise Ember wore.
Aaron’s face flushed with the effort to try escape. He struggled for leverage and kicked forward. Nicu twisted aside while refusing Aaron’s shoulders an inch of movement.
“Nicu, no! It was Brandt,” Ember said.
Nicu glanced toward her, read the truth in that brief contact, then narrowed his attention on Aaron without offering release.
“Where is your friend?”
Aaron paled. “You don’t know?”
“It is not my habit to keep track of gulls.”
“H-he disappeared. After last night, I thought you—”
Nicu shoved himself away from Aaron, thrusting the boy against the brick with his momentum. The breadth of Nicu’s body yawned over Ember. She met him with her chin raised. They stood, a battle of silent wills.
“You always inflict complication. You have called too much attention to yourself.”
“No one needs to know.” Aaron hadn’t moved except to lean his head back. “It’s just the three of us.”
“Three is a larger number than zero.” Nicu’s logic shattered a moment of hope. “There is nothing we can do to hide what she is.”
“Who she is,” Aaron corrected.
“No, what,” Ember agreed. “Trimarked.”
Nicu nodded, eased away when he realized she understood. “I have tried to tell you, little hybrid. People look. And now you have gotten caught.” Nicu’s attention flickered along the length of her tense form before returning to study her face.
“What’s next?” Her breath was a whisper. Nicu shook his head.
“A battle of duty.”
“What does that mean?” Aaron demanded. Nicu shifted between the human and Ember, his back to the boy.
“Consequences will come. You have removed all chance of keeping them at bay. Get inside and stay.”
Nicu maneuvered around her and retreated to the forest.
Ember never took her eyes from Nicu, not convinced he left, or that her only repercussion was to be sent home. For now.
“He’s an ass.” Aaron broke the silence as he wrenched himself from the wall.
Nicu, gone. He’d just walked away as usual. As if their interaction had been normal.
Somehow, that made everything worse.
“Go home, Aaron.” She flinched when she realized she echoed Nicu, passed by Aaron without another word because she still meant what she said.
“Wait. Em!” Ember paused at the corner of the building. “Thank you for letting me hang out today. Especially since I had been looking for the guy who hurt you.”
How was he so damned nice? Ember studied Aaron’s tall form, the way the wind tugged at his tight curls, his hands back in his jacket against the afternoon chill. Suddenly, she couldn’t handle the weight he’d placed on her shoulders, or the demand his presence made. So she let him go.
“Yes.”
Aaron frowned. “Yes, what?”
“To your question earlier. Yes.”
Aaron’s smile was white and brilliant when he fit the pieces together, realizing she meant she forgave him.
“Thank you, Em. That means the world to me.”
With that, Aaron Harwell jogged away.
15
Devi
Devi rested in a deep squat, not interested in sitting on the damp floor of the small cave. Eyes closed, hands in prayer to support the pose rather than in supplication. Devi sent her desires into the dense air and waited.
The tubular cave must have been an underground river long ago, feeding into the Pine River at the place Devi had found its entrance. A heavy fall of fat roots and twisted vines made the opening difficult to find, and no one else had discovered it while playing with a childhood imaginary friend.
She never spoke about the cave, though not with any purposeful intention to keep it secret. This place was just hers. It drew her in through the tangled foliage, to a clea
n and unadorned passage. Rock walls clear of moss or the penetration of roots led her down the hollow, dead end track with no turn offs, no fear of getting lost in a maze. The deepest part of the cave widened by a few feet, the naked stone ceiling rose by the same to create a cavern saturated with magic.
The chamber sat directly under No Man’s Land, and other than lacking signs of life, they existed as opposites. She only came when she needed to, though not with reluctance. She always left as soon as she finished, though not in a hurry. This place did not exactly feel safe, while being incredibly alluring, immersed as it was by power and knowledge.
Today she studied crystal growth. The smallest molecule multiplying into a larger, glass-like creation. How they bound together, suspended in space, how she could manipulate them to grow, expand and never lose their essence or shape. The size of her quartz crystals did not matter. As long as Devi kept their connections intact, their physical nature could be what she willed.
Insight rippled through her, generated a minor ache with the effort, and she stood. With each step toward the outside world, Devi rolled her shoulders and tilted her neck, eased off layers of gravid power and left nothing behind but gratitude.
The downward sun marked how late the day had become. Devi ran her tongue across the tips of her teeth. She debated her need to get back to the Circle and try out her new theory, but turned in the opposite direction instead to a space between No Man’s Land and the main road.
Chase Casterline leaned against a privacy fence that marked the edge of the first occupied human house off the Witch border. The small velvet bag he tossed between his hands clinked as the stones within crashed against each other.
“You’re late.”
Devi raised a brow. “I don’t have to be here.”
“It isn’t a problem,” Chase continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I just got here myself. Business matters.”
“I wasn’t going to come at all. I can’t stay today.”
“Then why show up? I wouldn’t care.”
As odd as it sounded to Devi, she knew he meant it. He’d even return in case she showed for the next scheduled meet. The peculiarity of one promised nothing, who had to work for everything, she supposed.