by C. K. Sorens
“Ember is having trouble with someone.”
“A human,” Chase said.
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
Devi frowned, remembered her mom had said something about a tagalong this morning.
“Then she has two problems,” Devi said.
“Could it be the same issue with many players?”
“I doubt it when one of them is Fae.”
“Who’s counting complications when it comes to the Trimarked girl? The Fae problem is Nicu, I suppose.”
“Edan.” The corner of Devi’s lips tilted up when Chase’s thick brows sunk to darken his eyes. “As amusing as it is to know something you don’t, I assume this happened sometime last night. You were with her, right? What did you notice?”
Chase’s features smoothed in an instant. He pulled his hood up.
“Let me get back to you on that.”
“Having multiple masters must be a real pain,” Devi snapped.
“Drop it, Devi,” Chase said. His long strides carried him toward an odd triangular structure that sat close to the street. One of the many scattered entrances to the underground, this one was only large enough for the drop of a staircase.
“Of all your deals, Chase, I’m the only one who will help you learn spells.” The words hissed between them. She had no way of knowing if they were alone or if someone listened from the other side of the fence. Her threat worked, stopped Chase in his tracks and made him turn to face her again.
“And as you hold those cards, I hope you’d understand I would not insult you. Even with multiple masters, as you call them, I don’t always have the entire picture. Besides, didn’t you say you can’t stay?”
Devi’s fists clenched. Her shoulders wound so tight they reached her ears. She wanted to go home, to get something to eat after half a day away, to pull out the crystals in her pockets and study their secrets. She had a point to prove, though.
To be honest, it wasn’t his lack of answer that bothered her.
“Fine,” she said through rigid lips. “You can contact me if you need to meet earlier.”
Chase’s parting head bob might have been part of his natural movement. She let him go, watched him pass through the door down to his underground world. Her shoulders relaxed because this time she’d given him permission.
16
Ember
Ember imagined multiple escape plans, weighing each one against its chance for success. Nicu would return, but she didn’t have to follow his orders. She could try to save herself. She should attempt to get herself through the barrier again, with this sudden flush of power. And if not, maybe Chase knew of a deep dark cave where she could hide.
Her eyes dropped as if the frayed toes of her canvas shoes might direct her toward a favorable outcome. She dragged her feet forward, studied them, too tired to acknowledge the futile nature of her search.
The shoes didn’t save her. A grim shadow slipped around the corner, leaned his heavy shoulder against the exterior of her house. Ember froze and felt an unintended prickle of power at the base of her spine.
“Ember Lee.” Edan nodded his head the smallest fraction as if this were a planned meeting of friends. “I need you to get me out of Trifecta.”
Ember walked away. She wanted to run inside, turn the lock and end this strange day.
“I also want you to let me back in.”
Right. Ember stopped, struggled to close her mouth against a useless threat. She looked over the yard and blinked through an attempt to order her thoughts. The hill sloped to the road. The thick tree line hid the next row of houses. Beyond that, more immovable trees, more invisible houses. As the sky darkened to purple, bright autumn colors faded in an attempt to match the rich evergreen shades.
Making a deal with a Fae would be like that, one thing on the surface hiding a multitude of meanings. Ember spent all day preparing or running from this, forgetting it at the moment she’d lost control of a power she didn’t want. Yet, here Edan stood, wanting something so easy, and so terrifying.
What had Devi told her? Speak in absolutes. Edan had begun, so were they negotiating now? He’d said two sentences. Did that mean one item, a round trip, or was it separate agreements?
Either way, she had to talk or the debate might finish before she weighed in.
“I don’t understand.” Ember winced, aware she was already behind in this game.
“I need out, then back in.”
“Out, then right back in?” Her brow wrinkled, Devi’s voice in the back of her mind shouting at her. Why ask for help if you’re not going to use it?
Fades, it had been a long day if Devi was the voice of reason inside her head.
“No.” Edan frowned and moved to stand beside her. “I’ll return whenever I complete my task. I don’t know how long.”
Okay, she could add to that.
“I’ve never done it in reverse.”
Edan studied the sun as it lowered toward the top of the trees, the orange blaze suffocating under blankets of violet and blue. Ember’s stomach spasmed with nerves.
“Is this a real Fae negotiation? Since you said nothing back, did we decide on something?”
Edan’s lips quirked in an actual smile, one he directed at her in this upside-down world where Nicu let her get away with a major offense and she amused Edan.
“As you are not Fae, I have suspended my expectations for this conversation.”
“Oh.” Good to know. Ember rested against the wall while vertigo passed.
“The risk is acceptable.”
“What risk is that?” The only risk Ember saw was her own chance of getting caught if she helped.
“The risk of not being able to return.”
“I—”
Opening the barrier to let humans out was one thing, especially those from underground. Nobody noticed them. Throwing Brandt out, a human with friends, had caused an immense headache. Sending a Fae on his way would certainly be detected, and she had enough trouble to drown in.
“Is something that wrong?” Her whispered question floated between them.
“If it is, my departure would likely benefit you as well.”
Logic hard to argue with. Ember looked at her hands, remembered them flashing blue, and shook her head. She didn’t want to help him, and she even had a reason he must accept.
“Nicu told me to stay home.”
“You seldom listen.”
Ember tapped her fingers on her thighs for two beats before curling them into fists. “I will this time.”
“Because I made this request?” Edan’s cheeks darkened. His weight shifted to hover over her.
“You didn’t see?”
Edan’s eyes flickered over her face, her hands, along the building as if he could see around the corner and discover what happened minutes into recent history. His head tilted, gathered bits of sound from his memory and echoes from the passing wind.
“And then Nicu told you to stay. It is serious, then.” And he left.
Ember gaped at his quick departure, wondered how he suddenly knew without actually knowing. At least the result ended in her favor.
How in convergence had she gotten herself into this — these situations?
How was she going to get out of them?
Ember pulled the crisp air deep into her lungs and the chill took over the heat of adrenalin. She rubbed her arms and figured she might as well think where it was warm.
She turned the knob and walked into the dim room. A different panic squeezed her chest when she didn’t see her mom on the couch. When she found Susan in the kitchen, humming and making dinner from the food Ember had brought the night before, she froze.
“Get inside, it’s cold out there.” Like a normal mom to an ordinary girl, admonished with a smile. Susan’s messy hair had been redone, smooth against her scalp and twisted into a neat bun. Pajamas and afghan were replaced with comfortable leggings, a baggy blouse and long cardigan.
Ember c
losed the door with a soft click, afraid if she shut out the evening the magic would disappear.
“Are you hungry?”
Not spell, then. A reprieve. Ember’s chest expanded, her face flushed.
This was horrible timing.
The last thing Ember wanted to do was eat and hang out. Her carefully maintained existence had torn at the seams, left her disoriented with no clear direction and few chances for help. She needed to put cold water on her face. She craved slipping into her tiny, dark bedroom and crawling into bed, to cool her overworked brain and ease her stumbling heartbeat. To plan before she ran.
She wrestled with her thoughts, refused to accept her first reaction.
Her mom was up. A visage of the woman from back when Susan tried to pretend they might be normal. A pretense that ended when Ember was no longer welcome at school, when Susan was faced with the truth every day, and every day she’d given more of her time to the couch than to her daughter.
“Y-yeah.” Ember took a deep breath and forced a smile. If her life was falling apart, why not have one evening where she dove into the dream. “That sounds great.”
“Perfect. Will you set the table, please?”
With slow movements, Ember did as she was asked, careful to keep her secrets from her fragile parent. She wasn’t certain why Susan’s mind provided this reprieve, but was grateful for it.
Ember let go of her hell of a day, focused on each smile, on each joke flung her way, enjoyed every moment with this version of her mom. She remembered a happier, if nervous mother, stories told at bedtime of princesses who saved kingdoms. Dinner was reminiscent of a quieter time, a moment when she’d been blind to her Trimark, ignorant to what her existence meant. Remembering innocence was painful. Not taking part would be devastating.
The ending came quietly. Susan’s eyes drooped, her smile slackened. They cleaned up together until Susan’s fingers trembled. Ember caught the cup as it slipped from her mom’s grip, then eased Susan back to bed and tucked her in, a gentle kiss on her cheek. Ember finished the dishes and left the lights on in case Susan woke up in the middle of the night, the light an anchor to dreams that often followed the older woman after waking.
Ensconced in her room, Ember slipped off her shoes, made a hoodie into a pillow and withdrew into thoughts, back to the two Fae who played with her fate.
If what Edan said was true, if his leaving was important, Nicu would send him first.
Then, Nicu. His choice to walk away hadn’t fooled Ember. Nicu would always be around for protection or punishment. He presented an odd source of consistency, not in any way a comfort considering the depth of the threat. With the heaviness of nausea, she found she didn’t want to leave the only constant she had, even if she could use her powers for herself. No one was as reliable, including her mom.
Nicu provided something else, though. A desire to fight.
She’d always fought against the restrictions Nicu placed on her. She’d always thought she’d been fighting him, and through him, the Fae.
But he’d dispersed her power today. He’d given warnings instead of rebukes. He hadn’t dragged her to the Fae. Instead, he’d walked away, and she couldn’t ignore that. Couldn’t sleep because of it.
Nicu was still Fae. He still held too much power over her head. Yet, today, he’d given her something new, something very not-Fae, and something she had so little of.
He’d given her a choice. To stay, or to run.
Resolve sank into her bones. She would not give in.
Now she had to figure out what not giving in looked like.
17
Brandt
Brandt huddled under the branches of a pine, breathed into his hands and tried to filter out the overpowering scent of evergreen. Twenty-four hours gone and nothing to show for it.
He’d gotten away from the jerks who’d grabbed him. Brandt didn’t want to be followed and figured the woods to be safer, so he’d run through the forest, though it required detours around boulders and scrambling over steep drops.
At some point he made a choice to head toward the city, a place where there should be help. As the terrain leveled out and he rejoined the road, he’d slowed to a halt. His chest heaved, not from effort, but from the realization that those lights were further than he imagined.
“Verge!” The shout faded into the silence, sending a shiver along Brandt’s spine when he had to acknowledge just how alone he was.
A few more yards away, he noticed a bulky, pipe-welded gate across the very road that wound up to Trifecta. Why was it blocked? Was this why no one visited anymore? The bubble dropped and the entire world left them be? He circled the bars, stomach twisted with acid, and read the yellow sign bolted to its front.
Warning: Road Closed Due to Landslide
Brandt looked back up the mountain. Trifecta wasn’t visible because of the incline and the close pressed trees. Could there have been an avalanche?
He set a sedate pace, not just because of the slope but because he was less interested in the return trip. The road’s edges crumbled to the dirt shoulder, the center solid with sun bleached dividing lines. Nothing. No washout, no landslide, not even a felled tree stopped his progress.
What in the realms? He knew nobody from Trifecta placed that sign, at least not physically. Only one answer made sense. Magic.
Magic got them stuck. Mages didn’t fix it. Trimarked powers kicked him out. In fact, the more time he spent outside, the clearer his mind became, like a veil lifted from thoughts he’d always had, but wasn’t allowed to think. It became easier to see living in a bubble was no way to live. Magic did not belong in a human world, not if it created bubbles that locked people up. Not if it made them exist together as if they were a peaceful, if disjointed family. How had that happened, anyway? How had the humans of Trifecta stepped aside without a fight, giving up so much of their space, so much of their lives?
Why the hell did Ember keep them there, knowing she could get them out? Then again, she was fading Trimarked. Magic stuck with magic.
Nothing he could do about that, though, and all that running left him starved.
The city too far away, he supposed it best to stick it out at the edges of Trifecta, at least for another night. He’d snuck into camp while the guys who lived there were on patrol, looking for anyone else who fell off, probably. He should have grabbed a blanket, but he hadn’t wanted to get caught again. With an armful of food, he’d gotten right back out and searched until he found a cozy spot under a tree with low-hanging boughs where he took cover and fumed in peace.
No joke, he’d been waiting to escape that bubble his entire life. There weren’t a lot of places in a ten mile diameter to hide from the fists of his old man. There were too many people stuck following their desperate need to live normal, pretending to be ordinary. The few who looked beyond themselves didn’t know what to do with a kid who played hard, fought harder, yet still had a few more bruises than could be explained.
Aaron was looking for him in all the usual places, he was sure. Solid Aaron always found him. Of course, today he wouldn’t. Aaron would spin himself into a tizzy. He probably assumed Brandt was playing a prank after the ‘she’s not worth it’ crap the soccer captain had pulled last night. Granted, it was something Brandt would do. He bit back a laugh, choked it down behind a bite of food and listened to the forest to figure out if anyone heard him. Shit, he had to remember to be quiet, now.
The worst part of all this, Brandt had been convinced he’d break that invisible shield one day, like a gigantic glass dome. Reporters would line up to interview Trifecta’s hero. With enough fame and fortune, it would be possible to leave his dad behind and start an actual life. He never thought he’d be kicked out because of a secret. And what a massive, fading secret that girl had. A secret that might help their stupid town, open them to the rest of the world.
Instead, she kept to herself, enjoyed the power for herself, and got to be the entire town’s damn jailor. No wonder she was so dam
ned cocky. If the barrier hadn’t been older than them, he might even think she’d been responsible for the entire fading thing.
The temperature dropped with the sun and Brandt pulled his knees into his chest to stay warm. Sure, he could return to that stupid camp with their fires and blankets, but those guys were in on it, grabbed him right away, took him out and far from the party so he didn’t run up to his friends and shout out what that mutt had done. It was a surprise he’d gotten any food from them, actually, but good to know since he would need to go back tomorrow.
Exhaustion settled over Brandt, weighed his head so it dipped toward his knees.
Dry wood snapped. Brandt jerked. Still heavy with sleep, he sunk into himself. The tree shivered around his body, shocked him wide awake, muscles flushed with adrenalin.
Branches creaked and parted as if on hinges. In the gap, Brandt made out a black shadow too tall for a mountain cat, too thin to be a bear. Then, with a snap of the stranger’s fingers, fire appeared between them. The long, narrow stretch of a man lowered, folded like a piece of origami shifting from one form to another until he crouched level with Brandt. An ankle-length, open coat with thick lapels pooled on the ground. The curves and dips of a trilby hat held back his cinnamon-colored hair. The flame he cupped in his hand brightened green gem-tone eyes.
“Gn-gnome,” Brandt stuttered, pressed against the trunk behind him. The man tsked in reply.
“Such language toward a potential friend.”
Brandt’s lips curled. “You’re not my type.”
The man laughed into the night.
“I would say the same, but it seems we have similar goals.”
“To kick some girl’s ass?”
Sharp features froze around a stiff smile.
“A girl? I was thinking a little bigger, but big plans require baby steps. Come with me to get something to eat. We can talk about proposals on the way.”