by H. E. Barnes
“Incompetent,” the captain spit.
The captain slid a key into the cell and grabbed Eira by the arm. “Come with me,” he said leading her down the hallway. He opened the door to an interrogation room. “Someone will be with you soon.”
Eira sat in the room with white walls for what felt like hours before the door finally opened. Two detectives walked in. “How’s your night going?” the male said, sitting in the chair across from Eira.
“Fantastic,” Eira sneered. “Best night of my life,” she said. It had been the most comfortable place she’d been in a while. She was inside, under a quiet air conditioner. Instead of her usual spot outside in the sweltering heat.
The woman shook her head sadly. “I’m Detective Harrison,” she said. She pulled a chair out from under the table, it squeaked against the floor. “And this is Detective Williams.” She jutted a finger towards her partner.
Detective Williams sat back in his chair, looking relaxed.
Detective Harrison leaned over the table, crossing her arms in front of her. She peered at Eira as if contemplating what to say next. As if they didn’t have the whole thing mapped out already. Eira was familiar with the setting. She’d been here before.
“So, we ran your fingerprints. Want to know what came up?” Williams asked putting his chair back on all fours and opening the folder he’d been carrying.
Eira shrugged. She knew what it’d say, which is why she’d always been careful not to get caught.
“Grew up in the system, bounced around for years, until one family decided to take you in. And what do you do? You steal from them.” Williams said, reading off of the papers.
“You have some sticky hands, huh?” Harrison asked still peering at Eira. It made Eira’s skin crawl, the way Harrison was staring at her, but she tried shrugging it off.
“But that’s not even the worst part,” Williams chided. Harrison looked over and glanced at the file.
“Eira, Eira, Eira,” Harrison said with a shake of her head.
“Why did you murder Samuel Smith?” Williams asked her, looking her dead in the eyes.
Eira didn’t even blink. “I didn’t.”
“Then why was your fingerprints found on the murder weapon? And DNA found at the crime scene?” Harrison chimed in.
“Probably because I lived in the house.” Eira shrugged nonchalantly on the outside, but on the inside she was frozen. She didn’t like to remember her time with her foster parents, any of them, but especially her last ones. And, she definitely didn’t like to remember Samuel Smith.
“Right, of course.” Williams said, filing through the papers in the folder. Looking for something else to use to get her to talk. But there wasn’t anything else. Eira was a master of staying silent and giving nothing away. Years and years of practice honed her skill.
“And who else lived in the house, besides you and Samuel?” Harrison asked. Eira didn’t speak.
“Your foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Knightly,” Williams answered her question stopping on a page. “Oh, and Heather.”
The words left Williams’ lips effortlessly. But they closed Eira’s. She hadn’t heard that name in a long while, for good reason.
The detectives watched her reaction closely, so she tried her hardest to sit still, not to fidget uncomfortably. She still didn’t speak, as if she could even muster words in that moment.
“That’s all for now,” Williams said. “But don’t worry, we’ll see each other again very soon.” He almost winked at her as he stood and knocked on the door to the room. Harrison followed leaving Eira alone again. She finally breathed again, her breath ragged and harsh.
An officer walked into the room, snapped cuffs around her wrists, and brought her back to her cell. He didn’t speak, and Eira was glad for it.
He sat down at his desk, a few cells away from Eira. She tried laying down, making it through just one night, but she couldn’t. She paced and paced. She wanted out, bad. She wrapped her hands around the cell bars, peering down the hall to see the officer with his head down on the desk, snoring.
If only she could escape. She needed to escape.
Her hands were freezing. The cold metal bars felt like ice. She wanted to shake them away, but she didn’t want to wake up the guard. So she stayed silent, with her hands on the bars, waiting. Waiting for a plan to jump into her mind.
A pop sounded. She felt the crumble of the bars beneath her hands.
She looked down, metal encased in blocks of ice laid broken at her feet.
She didn’t wait. Eira ran. Passed the guard who had started stirring and through the exit of the jail. They weren’t going to catch her, not again, she thought busting into the night.
Chapter 13
“Where’d you disappear to?” Ren asked Orla when she walked into the living room.
“What do you mean?” she asked. She sat on the couch next to him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into him. She snuggled into his side.
“I’ve been waiting.”
“Oh,” Orla shrugged. “I was in the bathroom.”
“For hours?” he asked, holding her at arms’ length. He wrinkled his nose up as if there was a sudden stink in the room. Orla laughed and swatted his arm.
“Fell asleep in the tub,” she shrugged, not meeting his eyes. She didn’t like lying to him, but he wouldn’t believe her if she did tell him where she really disappeared to.
“I thought you needed to get home?” he asked.
Orla nodded, “I do.”
Ren pulled her up from the couch and walked her to his front door. “Thanks for staying over. It was fun,” he said with a wink.
Orla rolled her eyes. “So much fun lying to my parents all weekend.”
Ren grabbed her up in a hug, kissed her temple, and said, “You should do it more often. Live a little.” His laugh bounced between them.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Orla said breaking the hug. “I gotta go. Don’t want to be too late.”
Ren nodded. “Of course, don’t want to miss school in the morning.”
“Don’t act like you don’t miss high school,” Orla said looking over her shoulder at him as she walked away laughing.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Happy anniversary, babe.”
“Happy anniversary,” Orla said with a little wave.
Orla heard his laugh as she climbed down the stairs and started walking home. It wasn’t too far of a walk. Just a few blocks to the coffee shop and a few blocks home. She enjoyed the night air, even though it was still sticky with humidity.
There was rustling behind Orla. She turned her head to look behind her.
It was dark, her vision skewed, but she saw the outlines of three men coming towards her. They were big, their shoulders protruding.
Her body revolted in shivers. There was no escaping them as they closed the distance easy in a few strides. Orla was stuck with nowhere to go. She wiped tears from her face harshly. They were closing in, each step echoing off the brick walls of the nearby buildings.
Orla needed to move, to get out. But she was frozen, in the middle of the street.
The first man reached her. He tried touching her arm, but she skirted away from. His laugh filled her ears. It was all Orla could hear.
This was a game, Orla realized. To all of them. And she was going to lose.
Orla backed away, as far as she could, as the men kept approaching her. Two of them came up on her side and one stayed in the front, blocking her view in every direction.
She felt the brick wall of her back and knew she had gone as far as she could.
“Come here, pretty lady,” one of the men said.
“We got you now,” another spoke.
They were closing in. Orla could feel the warmth radiating off them as they got closer. They tried reaching out, tried putting a hand on her. But she shrunk back against the wall so they wouldn’t touch her.
Orla threw her arm out. “Get away,” she screamed.
Orla wrestled with the keys in her hands and finally managed to get the key into the door. She stepped inside and leaned heavily on the wall. Finally, she was able to breathe.
“You okay, honey?” Orla’s mother called from the living room.
“Yeah,” she said still trying to catch her breath. “Just went for a jog.”
She made her way through the house and into her room, stopping only to close the door behind her and collapse on the bed.
Chapter 14
Idalia left her class. She had a few hours to kill before her next one. And she wasn’t looking forward to it at all. She did not want to see Professor Hendrix or hear his voice. Didn’t want to feel his eyes on her or awkwardly avoid his eye contact throughout class. She wanted to get through his class and never see him again. But, that wasn’t going to happen.
She left the building and walked outside to the courtyard. She was searching for a friend. Either Brittany or Katie to pass the time with. But, she found no one.
Idaila kept walking until she got to the dining hall. She went inside, grabbed some food, and sat at an empty table. She pulled out a textbook so no one would bother her. It was only a few weeks into the semester, but she had some studying she could do. And Professor Hendrix was right. She was failing and needed better grades in his class. She wasn’t going to take the easy way like Brittany did. She was going to study.
An hour had passed. Her empty plate had been slid to the side of the table so that she could have more room. She had her textbook, laptop, and highlighters all laid out in front of her. But, she was leaned back in the chair looking at her phone.
“Idalia.”
Idalia looked up to see Ren hovering over her. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Ren,” she huffed. “Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?”
“Yes, but,” he said pulling out the chair next to her.
She grabbed her backpack, unzipped it, and chunked all of her stuff inside. “No buts, Ren. I’m serious.”
“We can be friends, Idalia.”
Idalia stood up and pushed in her chair. Ren stood up next to her, towering over her small frame. “I don’t want to be friends,” she said turning away.
He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. “You wanted to be friends a few weeks ago.” Idalia could feel him shrug against her back. A shiver ran through her body, and not the good kind.
“That was before I found out you were a liar,” she said. She tried pulling away, but he dragged her back to him. “Let me go,” she hissed.
“I didn’t lie,” he whispered in her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck. Blood rose to her cheeks. Heat sizzled in her hands.
She grabbed his wrist and squeezed. “Get your hand off me,” she said through gritted teeth. She threw his hand to the side, hard.
He grabbed it in pain. Tears rose to his eyes.
Idalia looked down at his wrist. It was covered in a nasty burn in the shape of her hand. “Leave me alone,” she said. “I’m telling Orla,” she said before grabbing her backpack and heading to the door.
“Wait, Idalia,” Ren called. She didn’t stop or turn around. “I was only joking,” he said. She heard his faint nervous laugh as she pushed through the door and left the dining hall.
She felt a million eyes on her as she darted to her dorm.
Chapter 15
“Oh, you better be careful. She might bite,” a girl said pulling her friend away from the table Aviva sat at alone. They laughed and walked away, barely giving Aviva a second thought.
Aviva was alone, as normal, sitting in the cafeteria of her boring high school. The day was only half over, and she was so over it. She wanted to go home. But, then again, she didn’t. She had nowhere to go. And no one.
Aviva bowed her head low over her tray of barely touched food. She should be used to this, to being the outcast. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t know if she ever would be.
“Hey,” a boy’s voice said from beside her. She heard the rustling of his pants as he slid next to her and the loud bang of his tray as he put it on the table.
Aviva looked up, wide-eyed. Someone was speaking to her. And sitting with her. She couldn’t form words in her brain, and even if she had been able to, she couldn’t get her mouth to cooperate.
“You looked lonely,” the boy shrugged. “And I saw those girls pick on you.” He waited for a response. “Some people are so rude,” he said when he didn’t get one.
Aviva only nodded.
“So you’re new here?” he asked. “I’m Zach, by the way.”
“Aviva,” she whispered.
“That’s a different name. I like it,” he said with a smirk of a smile. He looked away from Aviva across the cafeteria to a group of boys laughing and jumping around.
Aviva hated how obnoxious the kids her age were. They didn’t know how to behave. Or be a good part of society.
“What are you doing after school today? Want to hang out?” he asked.
Aviva looked at him blankly.
“We could get to know each other,” he said reaching out a hand and putting it on her leg. She shot away from him. “What’s the problem?” he asked scooting closer. He looked over at the other table, and nodded his head at the obnoxious boys. They erupted in another fit of laughter.
Aviva wanted to scream. Instead, she started shaking.
“Or not,” he said, finally standing up. He leaned down next to her ear and whispered, his hot breath blowing all over her face. “You’re not pretty enough for me. Or anyone, for that matter. You should just go back to where you came from.”
He walked away laughing.
Aviva sat still, so very still. Outside, she watched Zach saunter over to the other table. He high fived a couple of the guys. They kept looking back at Aviva and laughing. As if she were some kind of punch line to a hilarious joke.
But inside, inside Aviva was seething. She was tired. Tired of feeling unwanted, like a waste of space. She was mad. Mad at everyone who had ever done her wrong, and that was a lot of people.
She wanted them to hurt, to feel the pain she felt every day. Wanted them to know not to mess with her anymore.
A loud crash sounded around the cafeteria, followed by screams. Aviva watched as the table Zach sat at was covered in broken glass. A huge tree branch had flown into the cafeteria landing neatly on his table. He looked like he was about to cry.
Aviva felt powerful. And she didn’t want the feeling to go away.
Chapter 16
In the land of Season
Queen Quinn sat on a bench, staring at herself in a mirror. Behind her, a servant brushed the tangles out of her long blonde hair. The servant wasn’t gentle, but Quinn was used to it. She had grown up in Season, and though it was a lovely place, it was tough.
Season had hardened her heart. But, she supposed that was only because she would never be its queen. Not with the daughters she beared.
A knock on her door took her out of her harsh thoughts. The servant put the brush down beside Quinn and sauntered over to open the door. Quinn barely turned to see who had entered her chambers.
“My queen,” Brey said with a low bow. “You’ve summoned me?”
“Yes,” Quinn said standing up from the bench. “I was hoping to check in with the Daughters. See how they are doing after the Releasing Ceremony. It’s hard to understand while being brought up in Season. I can only imagine the confusion they must have,” she said trying her hardest to sound sincere.
“Of course, my queen,” Brey said stepping further into the room. “Do you mind?” he asked with a point of his finger towards the mirror that still held Quinn’s reflection.
“Oh, no. Whatever you ne
ed, Brey,” she said. The sweetness in her voice could kill.
The servant girl closed the door after Brey entered the room fully. Brey walked across the room, not sparing a glance to the queen. He stood in front of the mirror, disrupting Quinn’s beautiful image. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the pendant.
Quinn watched Brey curiously. She had never learned how to use the pendant. Or how to contact the Daughters. King Quilo gave only one person that power. And it wasn’t his wife.
Brey hung the pendant on the mirror. The tree and stones facing inside. “We call on the Daughters. Let us see into your eyes.”
The pendant’s stones lit up, bouncing back and forth between the mirror and the pendant. A cracking sounded through the room. The mirror broke, shattering into a million pieces. Left hanging on the wall was a ball of light. Slowly, within the light, images came into view.
Brey stepped back from the portal. Quinn stepped closer. She watched as one by one, her daughters’ image emerged.
Orla blasting men three times her size away. Eira freezing the bars of her cell off. Aviva bringing a tree through a window. Idalia burning the hand of an enemy.
Queen Quinn smiled. She was proud of their powers. Something she helped create. But, most importantly, she was proud of their chaos.
“They are strong,” Brey said, mostly to himself.
“What did you expect from King Quilo’s children?” Quinn asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the portal.
“Nothing less,” Brey said.
Slowly, the light of the portal died. And with it, the images of the Daughters.
Queen Quinn finally blinked and backed away from the wall. She took a seat on the bench again. Brey took the pendant down and slid it into his pocket. It was never out of his sight, and never away from his body. The least he could do for his fallen king.
“Clean it up,” Quinn quipped at the servant girl who had remained by the door. She scurried over to the broken mirror and began picking it up, piece by broken piece.
