Six Page 16

  They are a perfect team, a well-oiled machine that runs efficiently without any help. I am only a hindrance. As if sensing my distress, Finn slows to wait for me. He grabs my hand and we take the stairs at my pace instead of theirs. The stairwell proves quiet…too quiet. It blocks all the noise from the outside world, giving a false sense of security. It only seems safer in these close quarters than by the rooms with the broken windows, open to the repugnant atmosphere outdoors.

  We come up short as we round a stairwell and almost run into a savage. Finn takes a protective stance in front of me, with an arm thrown out to hold me back. One glance and I know this is not a savage from the forest—or any breed I have ever seen. This thing is beastly. Its properly proportioned eyes are vastly intelligent. It stands much taller than Finn and its exposed skin glistens wet. It has a pair of small demonic horns atop his enormous round head. It also wears clothing.

  When it notices us studying, it smiles to reveal a mouth full of jaggedly sharp teeth. I realize this savage is intelligent. With the savage in the front of us, it traps us in this corridor. The door above us is too far to reach and the exit to the outside is behind the savage. It takes a large step toward us. Finn raises the gun using both hands and takes aim. It leers at Finn and the throaty noise that escapes its mouth actually resembles a true laugh. He fires the gun and hits the savage directly in the stomach. It merely looks down, unbothered by the wound, then returns his focus back to us. The wound hisses and squirts. Covering my mouth, I step back as far as I can.

  I hear Lana fishing for an arrow. “Oh, for crying out loud!” she screeches from beside me. She raises her bow and instead of shooting an arrow at the savage in front of us, she aims directly up. “Move, bitches. It’s dinner time for the uglies.”

  I look up and see another savage falling from high above us. We scamper back a few paces just as a savage of a different species lands with a thick, wet thud in front of us. Lana’s arrow sticks in its deformed head, right between the black, engorged eyes. The horned savage in front of us descends on the other savage, tearing into the carcass with vicious bites and swipes with its claws. Thick, dark blood sprays everywhere. During the disgusting melee we are able to escape to the bottom floor, completely surrounded by glass and metal.

  “Tell me again how your guuu-n is better than my arrows,” Lana smarts.

  Finn claps Lana on the shoulder. “Well done, killer,” he says. Lana preens under his praise, oblivious to everything else.

  All I can do is bring my knife up in front of me, still frightened and unable to rein in my emotions. The hissing of the fire from the crack in the street sounds similar to the savage’s growls and it echoes in this open space.

  He lays a hand on my shoulder. I know the gesture is meant to reassure me, but it causes me to startle. “I know the way back to the sorceress. It will probably take a day to get there. That is if she hasn’t switched locations. All we have to do is convince her to let us back into the circles even though an entire palace is hunting for Emma,” Finn says as he reloads his gun. “I’m running low on bullets and now we’ll have to fight the damn savages off. I’ve been able to determine once one finds a target they all gain the knowledge. They are connected telepathically.” Which means they all know we are here in this building standing still—unmoving targets.

  I take a deep breath. “If they know where we are at anyways, I will just use magic to get us to the sorceress quicker. Not using it makes no difference at this point. We will die by the savage’s hand or the witches will catch us. The probability of either fate is high,” I say. Lana and Finn both look at me and then at each other. They have a silent exchange. I feel envious of their ability to communicate without words.

  They nod in unison. “It will have to be quick,” Lana says. She scans the room with her bow. I look at Finn and he bobs his head slightly in agreement. I take off my necklace, shove it into my pocket, and ball up my fists by my sides. I think of all the emotions…even the ones I do not have and then I urge them to overtake me. I want to sample the ferocity of each one. When anger and fear merge, I feel the glow of dark magic well inside me, lighting the dormant place that buzzes with power. I think of the emotions, but I do not feel them and for that I am thankful because Finn turns his head away when my emotionless eyes glow white. I know what he sees. I am dark, empty—a shell of the person he is fond of.

  Remembering the task at hand, I flip both of my palms up and the spinning orbs appear above them, twirling at such a high speed that my hair whips around my face. A fire lights every molecule that my magic controls. I am gone. My eyes brighten to light the orbs and all falls silent.

  “Show me the sorceress,” I say, my voice mechanical. The streams of glowing magic wrap my body. My bare skin prickles as the dark orbs melt into one large sphere. Beginning dim and growing more precise as the seconds go by, the image builds. The beautiful sorceress wears a long white dress, untouched by ash and dirt. She swishes her flowing dress by grabbing the sides and turning in circles. Back and forth she sways. Her long, wavy blond hair entrances me. She is ethereal. She is perfect. She turns and I catch a glimpse of her light blue eyes. When I realize she looks like me, I cannot dart my gaze to the scenery behind her to know where she resides. “I will come to you, princess,” the sorceress says. Nothing is more impossible than looking away. Something inside her calls to something inside me.

  “Oh, my.” I hear my words, but do not remember deciding to say them. Finn grabs one of my hands while Lana grabs the other and they bring them together in an exaggerated clap. The orb disappears and I feel sad. The sorceress holds infinite, lonely grace.

  “I saw where she was just in case she doesn’t find us quick enough. I recognized the background. She wants us to expect her. She wouldn’t have shown herself in Emma’s vision otherwise,” Finn says. He completely ignores the way the vision makes me feel, not even chancing a look my way.

  Lana shakes my arm. “Earth to Emma, Earth to Emma. Do you read me? She is a sorceress. It is her job to be fucking magnificent. Or didn’t you know? I guess you wouldn’t. I’m surprised Finn left her. The way she is all blond and Emma-like and all.” She grins and the smile turns into full-blown laughter when she notices Finn’s stony expression. “Argh! I’m a big, strong protector. And I like em’ blond,” Lana says, kissing her biceps. He grumbles under his breath.

  Another blast of fiery heat sends us running out the door into the murky whistling street. Sweat breaks across my face and intermingles with the soot and the tiny pieces of glass that rain from above. The thick cloud of ash shields us from the winged savages above us and it seems, for the moment, we are safer outside in the street.

  Finn leads, and Lana and I jog next to each other. I let her jagged breaths calm me, pressing myself to banish the dark place that wants me. The part that wants me to be empty and powerful…and lonely. I cannot forget her face. Aside from Lana cloaking herself as me, the sorceress is the only other being I have seen that looks similar to me—even more so than my own mother. It intrigues me. I shut my eyes and let her delicate face fill my mind. Although she has stolen something of great importance from Finn, I sense she will help us. Finn says she wants to find us.

  Suddenly, Finn makes a sharp turn and heads down a set of steep stairs. We follow. The steps are made of rubble, and tiny pieces chip away as our feet pound them. I am unable to see where they lead, only that it is dark and the smoke tastes more bitter with each step I take. I hold Finn’s shirt as we continue down. Lana coughs loudly. My chest burns, my eyes water, and my foot slips on a cracked stair. I release Finn as I fall and deftly catch myself before I roll down into the darkness. “Ow,” I mutter, rubbing the palm of my hand.

  “Easy, freakling.” I hear Lana whisper in the dark. Her voice carries oddly and I cannot tell how far away she is. Finn’s large hand clamps around my arm, then he pulls me up. I cover my mouth and nose with my hand.

  “Where are we going? I can barely breathe,” I say, though I realize I bar
ely hear myself speaking. A door opens. We all stumble through and Finn closes it behind us, trapping the tainted air in the stairwell. I fall to the ground and gasp for oxygen. While this is not clean air, and I do not really remember what clean air smells like, it feels like I am breathing for the first time.

  “This better be fucking epic, Finn,” Lana barks from right behind me, violently sucking in air. I hear shuffling, zipping, a brief whine, and I finally see a light. Finn has lit a lantern with another of his contraptions. It glows dimly, lighting our surroundings. Finn is smiling when I notice him watching me. Rubbing my fingers over my palm, I realize I am bleeding from my stumble. I clench my fist, but not because I want the pain. I want the bleeding to cease. It is a small thing that I now know is huge. This blood signals a transition in my body, and glancing at my friends I know it is much bigger—it is my entire life. Finn saunters over and presses a cloth into my hand.

  I study his fingers when he touches my arm to steady his wrap. “Best estimate we have six days right?” Finn asks as he opens both arms to his sides. When neither Lana nor I respond, he continues. “This.” He knocks on the counter the lantern rests on. “Is called a bar. Humans in the old world came here to have fun. Fun even on the smallest scale is all we have in the abandoned city. How else do you expect us to feel anything but heat and hatred?” Finn’s smile is infectious. I look around and notice the dingy chairs and dusty bottles. This underground lair looks to be the furthest thing from fun. Finn goes around to the other side of the counter and starts blowing off large bottles of all shapes and sizes.

  “You’re kidding right?” Lana huffs, obviously displeased. “I’ve heard about these places, how humans spent hour after hour wasting their time, drowning in spirits. Humans from the old world were epic time wasters.” She does not drop her bow. If anything she holds her weapon even tighter. “Savages are after us. The dark dickheads want Emma. We have to keep moving. You may be keen to die in this dirty hole in the ground, but I’m not. Neither is Emma. We want to go home. Let’s go home.”

  She stands next to me and firmly plants her hands on her hips. I do not say otherwise, but I do want to have a little fun. At the mention of home, my stomach flips and my heart speeds. Fun filled memories of the circle are far from my mind. I miss the darklings, the lagoon. I miss Finn’s hut and my real window. Finn has obviously been to this place before, because by some miraculous feat he has turned on blaring music and located unscathed drinking glasses. He pours three drinks. The caramel colored liquid splashes as he pours. With his head still down he looks up at me through his lashes.

  Lana narrows her eyes at him. “You’re just as bad as the humans. I’m lumping you with the Neanderthals, just so we’re clear,” she says.

  “Unless you have a better idea…feeling 101,” he says. He slides a full glass down the long counter and I catch it before it hits the end. Lana straps her bow to her back, still not willing to set it down, and shakes her head with disapproval.

  “Fine, give me one. Just one,” Lana barks. She presses her lips into a firm line. I see her cracking. She wants worry-free fun because she is Lana. One corner of her mouth picks up when Finn laughs. Her deep laughter fills the room a second after I tip my head back and swallow the burning liquid.

  I scrunch my eyes closed when I feel it warming my chest and belly. Lana chuckles and slams her empty glass down. Finn’s follows. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes when I am sure I will not throw up. I wrap my arms around my middle. It tastes like poison.

  Finn skirts around the counter and puts a large hand around my waist and draws me to him. With our faces only inches apart, one eyebrow rises fractionally, in question. There is never a question with him. I lean up brushing my lips against his with slow urgency. He parts his lips and I separate mine. His hand feels like fire against my lower back, so I pull him closer, as close as our bodies can be and it is still not enough. It will never be enough. He threads his free hand through the back of my hair. I bring both of my hands up to his neck touching his skin, committing it to memory. We are one. This kiss, unlike all the others sends spirals of emotion into my body. Finn pulls me away from his body with a groan, but I am so not ready to release him. He consumes me, causing the warmth inside my body and the invisible emotion I know is surfacing. Comparing this to the sensations of using my magic just an hour ago makes me understand something. There is no comparison. There never was. There never will be.

  “Ack. Seriously. Get. A. Room. I’m not into voyeurism this week,” Lana cries, feigning annoyance. I hear her speak but I am so lost in Finn’s perfect eyes that I am unable to look away. Silver. Brown. Silver brown. My favorite color. Unwittingly, Finn looks over my head at Lana, then returns his gaze to mine. He bites his lip, as if considering something vitally important, then shakes his head. Lana begins fiddling with the music and turns on something with a hoppy beat. I hear her feet scuffling on the floor and know she is dancing. I smile.

  He brushes my bottom lip with his thumb. It is a promise…a rain check Lana would call it. “It’s story time,” Finn whispers before he brushes a soft kiss to my forehead. I know that stories from my past help bring new emotions, but when he says this I cannot help but think of my storybook filled with silly notions.

  The prince wakes the sleeping princess in the crystalline castle.

  He has not yet. But I know he will.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  July 27th, Night

  Lana is sitting the wrong way in a chair leaning over the back. Her arms hang limply. The alcohol is crippling her system. It is affecting us both. Finn stopped after one drink telling us he wants to be lucid. At this, Lana and I laugh so hard we nearly pass out. We are talking to avoid the horrible truth—every second that passes we are closer to a fight…or something horrible. Or, simply maybe it is just the end.

  The smile fades from my face. “Tell me the story about firesparks,” Lana slurs. She loves this story.

  “They are called fireworks. They light the sky with amazing bursts of colors. They seem almost electric, and the sparks are so enormous they fill the entire sky. Special occasions call for fireworks,” I say as I raise my hands over my head to explain better. I tell the story like I am the one who saw them, instead of my mother. “You lie back on green grass and watch them explode above you. It is magical…” I lose my train of thought because of the dizzy sensations from the drinks and because of the way Finn watches me.

  He stands behind the bar with his chin propped in his hands, staring at me as I explain. He smiles when I catch him.

  “Do you have a question about firesparks?” I ask.

  He shakes his head without removing it from his hands. “Don’t stop talking on my account. Keep going,” Finn says.

  “I have been doing all the talking. You have heard all my stories a thousand times,” I say. I pick up a glass and the bottle that sits next to Finn, and pour myself another drink. They will listen to my stories for obscenely long periods of time. Growing up in the circles they were told some things about the old world, but never as detailed as the stories my mother told me. Some of the things are hard for me to believe because I did not see them for myself. Saying them out loud helps with that. I like reliving her memories. I just hope I do them justice.

  Finn and Lana do not speak of too many things of their life growing up. It is a touchy subject for both of them. I know that Finn’s mother was killed when she stood up to the dark witches. As a tiny child, he stumbled into their circle by chance. There, they protected him until he was old enough to accept the decree to abstain from sex. Lana was born in the circle. Her human mother left when she was small. She still believes she is alive and out there somewhere. I do not think she is, though. The witches hunt humans. They want to eradicate them from our planet because of their emotional risk. Deep down I think the witches like that humans and darklings feel. It is why they gravitate to them and form relationships with feeling beings to begin with. It is why they allow the circles to exist. I also
think this is Liam’s fascination with me. They are curious as to what is so spectacular that many willingly sacrifice their lives for. They do not have the capability to understand the importance or significance. How could they when I did not understand until recently?

  Finn eyes me down. “You realize we’ll have to leave here tonight to find somewhere else to stay. I’m surprised we haven’t had to fight off any savages by now.” He slides the bottle out of my reach. “This won’t help you if we have to fight.”

  I feel proud he says I will fight alongside him and Lana. For the first time I feel worthy of joining their team. I notice Lana’s bow now rests next to her chair, completely haphazardly. The liquid is poison, I realize.

  “I have an idea,” she says while tipping back on two legs of the chair, balancing precariously. “Let’s play truth or dare.” She lets the chair fall forward with a loud bang. She looks at Finn and me in question. I have played this game only once beside the campfire at our circle. That time Finn was gone. Which was a good thing as most of the darklings asked questions regarding him. It is a memory before I feel happiness. It is before. My cheeks heat when I think of the questions the darkling girls ask each other during the game. Of course, Lana is the worst offender with her no-holds-barred questions. They are always embarrassing. Like her shooting, her questions show little to no mercy. I wince at the memory.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s only three of us,” Finn says. He must also know of her tactics.

  Lana smiles. “Oh, come on you pussy. It’s a game. It’s not like we’re killing savages or anything life or death. What’s questions and dares between friends?” Lana fires back. Finn deftly rolls a bottle top around in his fingers as he considers the travesty this will turn into if he agrees.