Trimarked

by C. K. Sorens

  He needed choices, even those to be used as a last resort.

  Nicu tied the medallion beneath heavy braids, the metal warmed where it pressed at the nape of his neck, at the very spot he’d experienced the first cut of a phantom blade and tried not to think how the very act felt like a decision had been made.

  19

  Ember

  The thin foam mattress had never been so uncomfortable. Or was it her body? The bruise on her throat left her neck stiff. Every muscle wrung out and overused. Distant aches flared to life as she tossed and turned. Each bone ground against its neighbor when she lay still.

  She would wake up her mother at this rate. The exterior of their house might be made of concrete blocks, but the interior was uninsulated, thin drywall.

  Ember sat up and pulled on her layers, added a third layer of socks and two more hoodies to what she wore during the day. In a box at the head of her bed, she dug out a set of gloves and hat she turned inside out to hide the embroidered Trifecta High logo. Ember tried to pick the threads out once, but the knit had threatened to unravel, so she’d left it. At least it kept her warm.

  She paused to enjoy the last few minutes of day fading on the horizon. She thought midnight would greet her instead of dusk. Apparently time crawled while your brain tangled itself up in no-win situations. The ice-tinted evening helped clear her thoughts a bit as her body struggled to keep warm and used up the energy needed for obsessing.

  Ember watched deep purple fade to indigo. The horizon here fell downward, the sun taking its sweet time melting into the other side of the world. Morning brought a gentle warning before the sudden and bright arrival from behind mountain peaks. More days than not, she experienced both ends of the journey.

  She’d never been so torn on what to do next, though. Bed proved a painful place and uncomfortable was the last thing Ember wanted to be. If Nicu turned her over to the Fae, she doubted they would keep her comfort in mind.

  The underground club might be open, but as far as Ember knew it wasn’t a twenty-four-hour hang out. Even the unwanted denizens had places to sleep for the night. She must remember Nicu’s order, too, the only one she felt the need to follow.

  That’s not true.

  It doesn’t count when you’re seven.

  Well, fade it. Her brain decided it wasn’t too frozen to think anymore. Ember refused to walk down memory lane, however, so that meant she should go someplace else. Her feet crunched through dying grass in the only direction that wouldn’t lead her into someone else’s territory - back into the forest.

  She stumbled when dry, icy heat thrust between her eyes and stole her breath and vision. Ember staggered up the hill. Relief and horror blended when the torture released her mind, but split her face to her collar bone. Before she reached the tree line, her heart stopped, agony sliced through muscle. She dropped to all fours with a gasp and braced herself. The deep, precise pain tore down, dissected her sternum, carved through her stomach into her pelvis where it parted, moved to cramp every inch of tissue in her legs. Ember collapsed, flipped onto her back. She grabbed at her sweaters, pulled in search of what attacked.

  A soft blue glow rose from the phantom cut and radiated through her clothing. Ember raised her hands into the light, unsteady with its familiar touch. This matched barrier energy. But how?

  Ember scrambled into a sitting position. The forceful torment turned into a grinding ache. She pushed herself back against the first of the trees.

  Power brushed over Ember with sensations of pine and mist that reminded her of Nicu. She screamed as the invisible cut tugged closed, sharp pins along her ribs and thighs as if a million needles poked and prodded every portion of her pain. She searched the forest, desperate for sight of the Fae.

  Was this Nicu? Did he make it impossible for her to disobey? Maybe she hadn’t gotten off easy, after all?

  The energy sewed together. The power flooded back in, now far too big. Ember grit her teeth against the pressure and tasted the salt of torrential tears. She turned into the forest and caught the safety of shadows. The crunch of leaves, the damp of dirt, did not register beyond the pain of being engorged.

  Nicu promised.

  }|{

  The day had been horrible for Ember, one of the worst in her whole seven years. She kicked her grey tennis shoes, threw up the dead pine needles in her path, scowled at them as if they were the problem when the actual issue was left back at school.

  Ember never made it to the swings first. That’s all she wanted today, to be on a swing. She raced out to the playground right after lunch, not even eating all of it in her rush. It was worth it when she reached the swing, jumped on, got going.

  Then someone shoved her off. She’d landed hard, the dirt pressed into the front of the yellow dress mom finished making for her a few days ago. The kid who stole her swing hopped on and took a running step back. Ember barely had time to roll out of the way before the bottom of their shoes shot toward her.

  The grown ups pretended not to notice, not that part, anyway. Once they realized how dirty she was, they’d ordered her to the bathroom to clean up. Off the playground. Away from the other kids.

  Ember hadn’t gone back to class after that. She waited in a stall until recess finished, then escaped, and ran over the blacktop past the swings, through the grass field, on and on through Trifecta. She cut through yards and scrambled between bushes on her way home. Once there, she kept going into the forest, not wanting her mom to see the tears on her face.

  “Stop.”

  Ember’s feet stuck as if they were under an actual spell. Even as a nine-year-old Fae, Nicu was bossy. He didn’t push her off swings, though.

  “What do you want?” Ember asked.

  “You’re not permitted on Fae land.” His hands rested on his hips, loose braids hung to his chin. He pointed above their heads. Ember looked up and huffed at the sight of heart-shaped leaves. Her eyes burned, her cheeks heated. Of course, she knew she wasn’t allowed to go across that line. Her mom and Nicu had stressed the importance. A rule never to break.

  She turned and walked away from the boundary and searched for a trail she recognized.

  “It’s that way.” Nicu appeared at her side. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need him to show her how to get home, but she did. She pursed her lips and let him take her. He didn’t talk to her until they could see her house.

  “You cannot go back to school.”

  Ember stumbled over a root and windmilled for balance. She skid a few feet down the hill, then turned to face him.

  “Why?”

  Nicu’s steps were careful. He didn’t slide. “You are a reminder. As you grow, they look at you more, it affects them more. It will no longer be safe for you.”

  “But it’s not fair. Why do they get more things than me? Why don’t they just be nice?”

  Nicu watched her tantrum with flat lips.

  “Hybrid child,” he snapped, then he took a deep breath. Ember counted to ten with him. She was still angry, but he had settled. “Listen. I will make you a promise, something Fae are not supposed to do because we have to keep them. Do you understand?”

  Ember bit her lip and nodded.

  “If you do this, if you stop going to school, don’t try to be seen on purpose, I will make sure you’re taken care of. I will make sure you’re safe if you follow the rules.”

  Long before Ember understood what it meant, she agreed to a Fae’s bargain.

  }|{

  Ember struggled through the forest, no longer certain why she moved or where she went. Her body bathed in misery, the echos of memory sent shock waves through her brain.

  Nicu promised, she agreed. Then she forgot.

  Be invisible.

  Follow the rules.

  “You let him notice you.” Words Nicu said recently, a warning.

  Another pull across littered ground. Her hand flung out and dropped. Fell without pain.

  Ember blinked. A clearing spread before her, a place where
Nature had drawn a line in the forest to declare nothing should grow past this point.

  No Man’s Land. She knew of it. Her mother brought her once, but she never revisited since it was adjacent to both Fae and Witch borders.

  Across that line, her hand did not hurt. The rest of her did. With a broken cry, Ember dug in, crawled forward with lunging motions, fell flat to her back and shuddered.

  The power popped, then calmed, settled like a weight of water against her spine, trickled into the ground and beyond, deep underneath her, drawn from her body. The slashing and pinning she’d suffered through soothed away as if by a cool breeze, though no wind existed here.

  Peace.

  Ember closed her eyes and breathed.

  20

  Aaron

  Aaron dropped into bed and threw his arm over his face. It had been an endless day since Brandt disappeared. After leaving Ember, Aaron headed out to check at his friends’ house again and a few places he liked to go to blow off steam. Nobody had seen him, so at least Aaron hadn’t wasted his time acting on his suspicion of Nicu.

  Ember said he’d fallen off the edge. It was only a figure of speech. No one could leave Trifecta, but it appeared as if Brandt had done exactly that. Where was the jerk?

  Did Aaron want to find him?

  Aaron flipped to his side and threw a few punches into his pillow. His friend had become rough around the edges, and alcohol did not help the situation. The possibility that Brandt would attack Ember never crossed Aaron’s mind, yet he had.

  As long as it’s only the Trimarked girl. He winced at Ember’s remembered words, drew his hand over his face.

  Verge, he didn’t want who she was to be the reason it was okay. He hated that his first emotional reaction was understanding why Brandt thought attacking Ember was fine, when it wouldn’t be with a human girl.

  She shouldn’t have forgiven him. He shouldn’t have even asked for it. He was as much an asshole as Brandt.

  Aaron flopped to his back, lifted and dropped his head a few times, stared at the ceiling.

  Well, fades.

  He sat up, searched the floor for his jeans and pulled them on. He gripped his rumpled t-shirt next, then tugged a thick puff-coat from his closet. His window slid open without a sound, and he swung both legs out. The bottom half of the house was bricked, the second story wrapped in siding. The brick gave Aaron’s toes purchase while he drew the pane closed. He wouldn’t come back this way, and it would throw his old man off if, against the odds, he checked in.

  Aaron dropped to the ground, careful to bend his knees with the impact. Dad would flay him if he injured his knee during the season. He took quick stock, satisfied he hadn’t strained anything, and put his coat on.

  Street lights to his left, night to his right, Aaron kept in the middle and jogged through backyards. The ghostly shape of Ember’s pale grey house rose from moon-silvered grass.

  Someone was in her yard. Aaron slowed, squinted as if narrowed vision was what he needed to see in the dark. He approached the figure with quiet steps. Was it a Fae guard? Had Nicu returned with whatever consequences he’d threatened?

  The guy shifted his profile, gripped something at his side, then raised his arm to stare at the knife in his hand.

  “Verge.” Aaron winced at the sound of his own voice and drifted to a stop when the boy turned to him. “Brandt.”

  Aaron’s eyes swapped between his friend’s face and the blade. Tension coiled through his shoulders. “What the hell are you doing? Where have you been?”

  “Aaron? What are you doing here? Never mind. Wanna help me find the Trimarked girl?” Brandt’s grip softened, but he didn’t let go of the weapon or put it away.

  “Why do you want to find her?” Aaron asked. Brandt’s lips curled.

  “Because the bitch threw me out.”

  “Of the party?”

  “Of fading Trifecta!”

  Aaron wanted to remind his friend that wasn’t possible. Maybe Brandt had been so drunk last night he’d passed out and slept in the forest all day, hallucinating.

  Except Ember’s power had pushed Aaron away earlier.

  “You choked her.”

  “And that’s a good reason to push me out the barrier? Get me kidnapped by freaking wanna-be survivalists?”

  Aaron swallowed his nausea, acutely aware he didn’t have an answer. Was one worse? Was Brandt’s anger justifiable?

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have to find her,” Brandt answered.

  “You’ve knocked on her door?”

  “No. She’s not here,” he spat, lifted the knife again. “This connects to her somehow. It kinda vibrates when it’s close to her.”

  “Where did you get that?” Aaron’s head felt light, his conscience torn.

  “From the guy who got me back in.”

  Aaron understood why Brandt was pissed. He hoped the weapon was just to find Ember, but Aaron couldn’t predict how far his friend might go. He remembered the speckled purple and red band across Ember’s neck, wide enough to see how flattened she’d been.

  “Come on, man. Let’s get some sleep. You can stay over and we’ll come back in the morning when she’s home.”

  “Fuck that,” Brandt countered. “It’s part of the deal of getting back in. I’ve got to find her for that guy.”

  “Just find her?”

  Brandt’s smile rose along with an unapologetic shrug. “That’s what he wants, but I get to talk to her first.”

  Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets, pushed down so the hood stretched.

  “Okay. I’ll come with you,” he offered. “See what’s going on.”

  “Cool.” Brandt gestured toward the trees. “This thing says that way. With both of us, she won’t be so quick to lock us out.”

  Brandt pulled out a pocket sized flashlight and turned on its bright, narrow beam. Aaron kept close, his attention torn between the shadows on Brandt’s face and the bits of forest revealed in the light.

  “You okay?” Aaron watched Brandt’s reaction, tried to judge his friend’s state of mind via his question.

  “Yeah,” Brandt answered with an easing in his tone as if all he’d waited for was for Aaron to check on him. Guilt weighed heavily in Aaron’s chest, not sure why he hadn’t asked before this. “I’m hungry and need a drink, but I’m a big boy. I can go longer.”

  “Nothing to drink?” Aaron double checked. Brandt’s laugh indicated he took Aaron’s words as a joke.

  “I know, right? We’ll grab one together after this. Celebrate.”

  “Yeah. Great. What are we celebrating?”

  Brandt’s grin twisted and grew in the odd combination of light and shadow. “Freedom.”

  Aaron debated asking for clarification but wasn’t positive he wanted to hear the answer, not when he didn’t know what Brandt planned to do with the knife. He held the thing at his side, raised it every now and again to scan the air, shifted direction due to vibrations Aaron couldn’t detect. After about ten minutes, Brandt stopped and slipped the blade between the waistband of his jeans and leather belt.

  “Here somewhere.” Brandt illuminated the trees.

  “In the middle of the forest?”

  Brandt slowed the pass of light, this time lower toward the floor of a natural clearing where three or four downed trunks had created space. Something on the ground caught Aaron’s attention, and he waited for Brandt to bring the beam back over it.

  “Em!” He recognized her supine form and scrambled forward, dropped next to her. Brandt kept the light on her while Aaron’s shaking hands tapped her cheeks, touched her neck as if he knew how to check for a pulse. “Em, wake up.”

  Had Nicu come for her?

  Brandt stepped to the other side of Ember’s body. “She’d better be alive.”

  Aaron nodded, distracted as he checked for a heartbeat again, mindful of her bruise. Yes, there he felt her pulse.

  “Y-yeah. Just out cold.” Aaron tapped her shoulder, trying
not to make her worse.

  “Wake her.”

  “I’m trying!”

  Brandt crouched, looked between the girl and Aaron, then shrugged. “If she’s breathing, she’ll come around soon enough. This is good. It will be easier to tie her up.”

  Aaron wrenched his attention onto Brandt. “What? Are you insane?”

  Brandt lifted the pure-white beam level with Aaron’s eyes.

  “Me?” Brandt demanded. “She threw me out of Trifecta, Aaron. She has control over the barrier and keeps us trapped. I’m not the one who’s crazy. I’m not the one fawning all over her like a love-sick puppy.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What was that you called her? Em? Are you friends with the mutt, Aaron? Is that why you got me off her yesterday?”

  Aaron’s heartbeat sped up three-fold at the venom in his friend’s tone. He tried to look beyond the blinding flashlight, but Brandt kept it on him.

  “That was about Nicu.”

  “As if the two of us couldn’t take on a single Fae.” Aaron’s shoulders twitched, remembered the controlled strength in Nicu’s one arm, fingers curled up around his neck, body pinned, his struggle forward all but ignored.

  “You got it wrong.”

  “Gonna deny it?” Brandt unzipped his coat and dropped a length of rope onto Ember’s chest. “Then get to it.”

  Brandt lowered the flashlight to the rope. Aaron blinked away blind spots, froze when he saw his friend had retrieved the knife and stood over him.

  “What the hell? Are you going to stab me if I don’t? We’ve been friends since fourth grade.”

  “Exactly. You and me. Not that bitch. So prove it.”

  That’s when Aaron realized he’d been waiting for Nicu to make one of his magical appearances, to take over and decide what to do with Brandt so he wouldn’t have to. His stomach sunk. He looked at Ember and wondered if her punishment was why Nicu wasn’t here.