Flynn Nightsider and the Edge of Evil

by Mary Fan

  A photograph stared from the crinkled, yellowing paper. Intelligent blue eyes beneath sandy bangs peered at him from an alabaster face with the same prominent cheekbones as his own. Flynn took a step closer to make sure, but there was no mistaking his mother’s image.

  A new wave of grief washed over Flynn. He hadn’t seen her face in so long. “What are you talking about?”

  Calhoun gestured at the short, mostly burnt candle. “Do you remember what this is?”

  “A Nether Candle.” Flynn looked up at him with a start. “Are you going to summon my mom’s ghost?”

  “Ordinarily, I’d say that the dead are best left at rest, but there are exceptions.” Calhoun picked up the candle. “Nether Candles are the only safe way to contact the dead, since a spirit speaks through the veil without entering the realm of the living. Of course, they’re very rare, and this one only has a few minutes of conversation left. I’ve wanted you to have them since you got here. Vivian was a good friend, and I know how much you miss her. But strategy beats sentimentality, so I held onto this stump in case I needed it for Riser business. Now, I get to hit both birds with one stone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Calhoun locked his stern gaze onto Flynn’s. “Someday—probably soon—the Rising will need you to go into Storm’s hideout and not blow the mission for revenge. If you swear to do that, I’ll let you speak to your mom again.”

  A surge of emotion swelled within Flynn. A chance to talk to his mother—once, he would have given anything for that. He still would. He simply wasn’t a grieving ten-year-old any longer and had long ago put the possibility out of his mind. Yet Calhoun was offering him a few precious moments with the only family he’d ever had. And the price? A promise to not kill someone.

  “Okay,” he said. “I swear.”

  “Good.” Calhoun pulled a lighter out of his pocket. “It won’t be like talking to a living person. The veil of the Netherworld can cause spirits to behave strangely.”

  Flynn nodded. He didn’t care. He just wanted to hear his mom’s voice again.

  Calhoun ignited the candle. He picked up the picture of Vivian Nightsider and placed the corner into the flickering yellow flame. When the paper caught fire, he dropped it onto the plate. The flame burst upward, forming a blazing column that scorched the ceiling. Seconds later, a translucent image of Flynn’s mom from the shoulders up appeared before it. She looked the same as he remembered—bright eyes, kind smile.

  “Hi, Mom,” he whispered.

  His mother’s smile fell. “Look, we don’t have much time to speak, so I’ll be brief. I heard you’ve been planning revenge. I know there’s little chance you’ll listen to me, but I hope you’ll take my words to heart.”

  What? His mom’s no-nonsense greeting surprised Flynn. Then again, she’d always been a practical one. I guess it’s true what they say about spirits hearing your thoughts.

  “Vengeance is a grand thought, but it’s never the answer,” she continued. “It may seem heroic in your head, but have you thought about what would happen afterward? Or what would happen if you were caught? No, of course you haven’t. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Mom, I wasn’t—”

  “We have a mission. More than a mission, we have a duty.” Though her words were firm, her eyes seemed distant. “Freedom from the Triumvirate. That’s what really matters, and once we get it, nothing like this can happen again.”

  Like what? The monsters will still be around even after we take down the Triumvirate. Something must have been lost in the veil between Earth and the Netherworld. “I don’t—” he began, but she cut him off.

  “You can’t let one death distract you from our ultimate goal.” She enunciated each word clearly, as she had when she used to lecture Flynn. “He would’ve told you the same thing if he were still alive. If you abandon the rebellion to go after those who killed him, you will have betrayed everything he fought for, everything died for.”

  She must be talking about Tamerlane. But she doesn’t know him… unless she met him in the afterlife?

  Mom’s eyes softened. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but I’m saying it because I care about you. And I care about our cause, more than anything.” Her words grew quieter, as though she were being pulled away from Flynn. “We must not let anything stand between us and the better world we dream of.”

  Realizing their time had to be coming to an end, Flynn hurriedly said, “I understand. I’m doing my best, and—”

  His mother’s image vanished. The column of flames died down, until only a thin tendril of smoke rose from what was left of the wick. Only a pile of blue wax remained on the plate where the Nether Candle had stood.

  I love you. His heart sank. That had probably been the only chance he’d ever get to speak to her, and he hadn’t said any of the million things he’d wanted to tell her. He’d been too overwhelmed by her presence to do anything but listen.

  Calhoun put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry that couldn’t have lasted longer. But remember, she can hear you, wherever she is.”

  Flynn nodded. He took comfort in the thought that she was watching over him. That she’d taken her few moments with him to lecture him shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

  Typical Mom. He smiled. Hearing her speak of “our cause” reminded him that he was part of a movement greater than any one person—one that she’d been a part of.

  Flynn glanced at Calhoun. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Calhoun picked up the plate and dumped its melted contents into the wastebasket by his desk. “Off you go.”

  Flynn left the office. But as much as he wanted to listen to his mom, he couldn’t let go of his anger so easily. If it hadn’t been for Storm, she could have spoken those words without the Netherworld separating them.

  If it hadn’t been for Storm, she wouldn’t have had to speak them at all.

  Flynn lay sleepless in his bunk, staring at the empty bed that had been Tamerlane’s. He was sick of tossing and turning, trying to listen to the logical side of his brain that told him to move on while the emotional one continued shouting in anger. Both sides wandered back to the fangbeast attack that afternoon. Logic wanted an explanation for what had happened. Emotion just wanted to punch something.

  Flynn sat up. Another midnight stroll it is.

  He got up, left the dorm, and wandered down the hallway, trying to think of something—anything—else. But all he could see in his head was Tamerlane, and questions rioted to be heard. Fine, brain, you win.

  Maybe by focusing on what he had witnessed, he could confront whatever bothered him and get over it. How did the fangbeast get past the perimeter in the first place? There was no draugr to create a breach this time. And how’d Storm control it? Tamerlane said fangbeasts only respond to the Lord’s commands. He also said Storm’s powers were growing, but if that’s the case, why only send a monster instead of attacking? Why… ah, screw it. Like I know enough about this hocus-pocus stuff to figure it out.

  More questions itched for attention. Flynn closed his eyes and replayed the attack in his head. He hadn’t seen much—just a monster going poof.

  He opened his eyes. Why did it disappear instead of going after Aurelia or me? Sure, Tamerlane threw spells at it, but it looked strong enough—unless it was hit by some kind of time-bomb spell that went off too late? Ugh, again with the hocus-pocus.

  He leaned against the wall and slammed his head back. This is pointless.

  For several moments, he stood blinking in the dark, wondering if there really was something weird going on or if the questions were some kind of coping mechanism. The orphanage guardians had talked about that a lot when he’d lost his mother—how people made up stuff to add significance to deaths.

  A pattering of quick footsteps caught his attention, and he turned in time to see a shadowy figure bolt down the
staircase. Recognizing the mass of wavy hair, he ran after her. “Aurelia!”

  Aurelia kept running, and he chased her down the stairs.

  “Hey, Aurelia!”

  Reaching the main hall, Aurelia whirled to face him. “Shush! You wanna wake the whole Citadel? Go back to bed.”

  Flynn noticed that she had her swords strapped to her back, and a large bag hung off one shoulder. She looked like she’d dressed for a mission—black tank top, denim pants, thick boots, except she’d left her hair down instead of tying it back. “Where are you going?”

  Aurelia turned and marched across the hall. “Out.”

  Flynn followed. “You’re going after that fangbeast, aren’t you?”

  “So what if I am?”

  “You heard Calhoun! We can’t be thinking of revenge—”

  “Screw Calhoun!” She threw open the Citadel’s door. Moonlight spilled across her face, illuminating her furious expression. “Screw the Rising! I’m not going after the fangbeast. I’m leaving.”

  “Wait… What?”

  “Okay, dummy, lemme make this crystal clear.” Aurelia pointed to herself. “I am.” She pointed out the door. “Leaving.”

  Flynn glanced over her, and it hit him. The bag, the sneaking out—she was running away. He shook his head, unable to believe it. He had to have misunderstood. Aurelia was one of the Rising’s most dedicated members. If anyone else had tried to leave, she would have been the first to denounce them for abandoning the cause.

  “I… I don’t understand.”

  Aurelia fidgeted, looking everywhere but at Flynn. “I don’t know what’s what anymore. Tamerlane kept trying to tell me…” She gazed out at the columns. After a few moments, she drew a breath. “Something’s wrong, and I’ve kind of had a feeling about it, but belief has a funny way of keeping you from seeing things clearly. I should’ve done something instead of leaving Tamerlane to go it alone. I still don’t know if he was right. I mean, just because someone’s dead doesn’t mean everything they said was true. But… I can’t stay here. Not anymore.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I don’t care. I’ve made up my mind.”

  Flynn stared. Grief made people do strange things. Maybe walking out was her way of coping? She’d probably come back after she’d had a few days to clear her head. But if she didn’t—Flynn didn’t want to think about the possibility of never seeing her again. Without her, the Citadel would feel empty.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Don’t go.”

  “Aw, you’re gonna miss me.” Aurelia lifted the corner of her mouth into a sarcastic smile. “How sweet.”

  “I mean it, Aurelia. Please don’t go.”

  Her smirk faded. “I have to.” She adjusted the bag onto her shoulder. “Did you hear what Tamerlane said to me before he died?”

  “‘Can you see me now?’ Why?”

  Aurelia’s gaze fell. When she looked up again, her eyes glistened with tears. “It’s because I kept ignoring him. The last thing I said to him was ‘go away.’ Well, he went away, all right. And I can see everything now, bright and clear. They were quick to erase the bloodstain on the ground, and then they burned him up. There’s nothing left of him. He’s invisible. Leaving is the only way I can show him that I… That what he was doing mattered. I can’t tell you more because I don’t know what’s right, but I’m gonna figure it out.”

  Flynn didn’t know how to respond to that. He looked away sullenly. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Aurelia walked out the door. She started down the stairs, but stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Hey, come with me. I’ll tell you what I’m looking for. Maybe you could help me and find some answers yourself.”

  Flynn hesitated. The answer that immediately came to mind—the right answer—was, “I can’t. I joined the Rising for a purpose, and I have to see it through.” That was especially true since hearing his mother speak of the cause she still believed in, even in death. Meanwhile, part of him wanted to say, “Okay, I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

  What came out was: “Um… I wish I could, but… Well, first of all, I can’t just leave Kylie—”

  “You’re right about that.” Aurelia’s expression hardened. “She’ll need you to be her Untouchable shield if she’s gonna survive. That newbie shattered at the sight of a dead body. What’s she gonna do when she’s surrounded by them? That’s what battle is, and neither of you have any business getting involved! I’m beginning to think I have no business getting involved, and I’m the freaking Firedragon!” She scowled and continued down the stairs. “Goodbye, Nighty. Maybe someday, I’ll see you again.”

  “Wait!” Flynn ran after her. She quickened her pace to a sprint, dashing toward the dark forest.

  Realizing he couldn’t force her to stay even if he caught up, he stopped halfway across the field. Catching his breath, he watched her until she disappeared into the shadows. She wasn’t his responsibility, and just because they’d battled monsters together didn’t mean he owed it to her to abandon everything he believed in because she asked him to.

  Still, he couldn’t help feeling as if he had failed her.

  Chapter 25

  Questions Upon Questions

  The training room had never felt so empty before. Flynn picked up a practice sword, and its dull metal blade looked bronze in the light of the sinking sun outside the window. He approached the heavy bag on the other side. He’d come to blow off steam, not to hone his skills, and he slammed his blunted blade into the bag’s side without caring about his form.

  Wham.

  Aurelia was gone, Tamerlane was dead, and Flynn hadn’t been able to prevent either from happening—just like he hadn’t been able to save his mom. Knowing that there wasn’t anything he could have done, rather than assuaging his guilt, only made him feel worthless.

  Always hanging over his head was the question of why. Why had Storm sent a fangbeast after the Citadel? What did that madman want in the first place? And why did Aurelia have to leave?

  Flynn recalled what Calhoun had said once he broke the news of her departure. “It’s tough here. A lot of people can’t take it and leave. Never thought the Firedragon would be one of them, but all the sword skills in the world can’t defeat grief. You couldn’t have stopped her, no more than the Academy could have kept her in the first place. I have a feeling she’s one of those flighty types.”

  That explanation rang false, but Flynn couldn’t come up with a better one. Perhaps he didn’t buy it because he didn’t want it to be true. He needed a reason for Aurelia being gone. He wished she’d told him what she meant by “something’s wrong,” or that he’d known what she and Tamerlane had been arguing about. Part of him wished he’d gone with her. He’d realized too late that he could have followed her and returned to the Citadel later. He wished he could erase everything that had happened in the past day—Tamerlane’s death, Aurelia’s departure… all of it.

  He raised the practice sword and twisted his whole body into one forceful blow.

  Wham.

  A sharp crease appeared in the side of the heavy bag. He repositioned his hands on the practice sword’s hilt. If he’d had a real sword instead of one of these jokers his first night at the Citadel, when he’d confronted Storm, then maybe he could have ended the Defiants months ago, and Aurelia would still be there, telling him how much he sucked.

  Wham.

  “Wow. You hit hard.” Kylie stood in the doorway, her sunny locks tied back in a low ponytail. “What’re you doing here?”

  Flynn shrugged. “Just practicing.”

  “I was about to do the same.” Kylie approached the rack on the mirrored wall.

  Flynn had never really paid attention to girls’ clothes, but he couldn’t help noticing that she wore the same kind of black tank top Aurelia always favored. S
omething about that stupid, insignificant fact made him start missing Aurelia all over again. He was so used to her always being there that her absence seemed to have left a gaping hole in the Citadel.

  Kylie picked up a bow and arrow then spun toward the target on the other side of the room.

  Whoosh-thud. Her arrow hit dead center.

  “Nice.”

  Kylie shook her head. “That was an easy shot. I wish I could practice with moving targets. Back at the Academy, Brax would pick one up and run around, and I’d try to hit it.” She bit her lip, as though she’d let something slip that she hadn’t meant to.

  Though Flynn had previously decided to leave the matter of Brax alone, too many questions plagued him. She brought him up. I might as well get an answer to one of the million things I don’t know.

  “Why won’t you talk about Brax?” Flynn strode up to her. “What happened between you two?”

  Kylie pulled out another arrow. “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying.”

  She strung the bow and took aim. “I just… don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why not? Dammit, Kylie, I’m sick of everyone keeping things from me! I can’t take it from you too, especially since you keep mentioning Brax’s name. Why can’t you just tell me what happened with him?”

  Kylie’s arrow sailed over the target and crashed into the mirrored wall. The glass cracked from the impact. She dropped the bow, buried her face in her hands, and sank to the ground, as though something within her had cracked as well. Sobs shook her slender body.

  Flynn knelt down beside her. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Kylie looked up with tear-filled eyes. “I know how close you and Brax were, and I shouldn’t have listened when they told me not to say anything. I didn’t want to lie to you, but… they said it was to protect you.”