Fire Lines

by Cara Thurlbourn

  The trees begin to thin out but long whip-like vines hang from their branches. Garrett and Alyssa are behind me with Tsam and Kole leading the way. We wade through the swamp, pause to check the compass, wade some more, until, finally, solid ground appears up ahead. We have almost reached it when Alyssa shouts: “Garrett!”

  I swivel around. Garrett is beating his wings like a swan in a trap and Alyssa is grappling to catch hold of his arms. Beneath the water, something is dragging him backwards. I slosh towards them.

  “Something’s round my ankle, Lyss!” Garrett cries, his eyes wide. “I can’t get it off!”

  Alyssa’s face is so white it’s almost see-through. “It’s a choking vine. If we don’t get him free it’ll drown him! Use your knife, Émi!”

  I reach for my belt, for the blade Alyssa gave me. Throwing myself to my knees, I plunge my hands beneath the surface of the water and fumble for Garrett’s ankle. The choking vine is solid and scaly, and my knife is useless. As I hack at it, it squeezes tighter and pulls harder.

  Garrett groans. “I think it’s breaking my foot…”

  Alyssa bellows at me to hurry up. Tsam and Kole are at my shoulders now.

  “Let us try, Émi. Out of the way!”

  I shrug them off.

  I abandon the knife and use my fingers. If I can loosen the vine, just a little, Garrett might be able to pull his leg free. He is still flapping his wings and the dirty swamp water floods my mouth, eyes and ears. Suddenly, my hands start to tremble. My vision shifts and blurs. The sparks are back. But this time they bypass my stomach and surge straight into my fingers.

  The water begins to bubble.

  Alyssa stares at me. “What’s happening? The water’s hot! Émi, are you…?”

  I don’t answer her. I can’t. As I raise my hands in front of my face, beams of light pour out into the air. I grasp the vine and squeeze as hard as I can. It releases an ear-splitting squeal. Then I tighten my grip and remember the way Falk’s cheeks disintegrated beneath my touch. The vine squeals again, then finally unravels to release Garrett’s foot.

  The sparks are gone. I’m struggling to breathe. Tsam and Kole reach for my arms and help me onto dry land, where we collapse in a heap. Garrett is rubbing at his ankle; it is already turning a mottled shade of purple.

  “Émi, thank you,” he says.

  Alyssa looks wildly from me to Tsam. “You didn’t tell us she could… did you know she could do this? Is this why the Cadets were after you?”

  Tsam nods, but doesn’t speak.

  “You said she was in trouble. You didn’t say she—”

  “I can’t control it,” I interrupt, trying to rescue Tsam. “I can’t summon it, or make it happen. It just comes.” I think of the wall, and Ma. Why now, for Garret, and not for her? “And then it goes.”

  Alyssa looks uneasy. She is staring at my hands as though she’s worried they might combust at any moment. She’s angry with me, and with Tsam.

  Garrett says, “She saved my life, Lyss,” and, eventually, her face softens – just a little.

  We rest for a moment. Then, when everyone has recovered enough to stand, we move on. This time, Alyssa and Garrett walk in the middle of the line; he is hobbling and leaning on her shoulder. I’m at the front with Kole, and Tsam is at the back of the group keeping a close eye on his legs.

  “How did you do that?” Kole asks. He doesn’t look at me.

  “The sparks?”

  “Mm.”

  “Like I said, it just happens.”

  “I see,” he says, and sinks back into silence.

  Once we’re through the swamp, walking side by side is easier and our progress quickens. Garrett is doing his best to keep up but, before long, he asks us to stop. “Sorry,” he says, “I just need a minute.”

  “Let me see.” Alyssa points to her brother’s ankle.

  Garrett shakes his head. “It’s fine. A quick rest and I’ll be ready to carry on.”

  Alyssa frowns at him, then turns to Kole. “Will you look?”

  Kole swings his pack down from his shoulders and crouches down, ignoring Garrett’s protestations. Gently, he lifts Garrett’s damaged foot onto his knee. Garrett winces as Kole removes his boot; his ankle is horribly swollen. It’s almost as deep a purple as Kole’s birthmark but with nasty splashes of yellow and green around the edges. With nimble fingers, Kole assesses the damage. “It isn’t broken, just badly bruised.”

  “Do you have any lilac weed?” Garrett asks.

  “Lilac weed is only for open wounds,” Kole replies, glancing towards my feet. I think of the purple leaves, the ones that are still in my pocket, and feel a twinge of guilt for not trusting them.

  Kole releases Garrett’s foot. “You need sol flowers. Here,” he says, handing Garrett a bundle of yellow petals. “Grind them into a paste, then rub on the ankle. The swelling should fade within a few hours.”

  As Garrett mixes up his prescription, Kole tells Alyssa, “We should camp here. Your brother’s foot needs time to heal.”

  Alyssa is clearly torn. She looks up at the sky, which is tinged with a rapidly encroaching sunset, then down at the rolled-up map that’s wedged into her pocket. Then she sighs a reluctant but loving sigh at Garrett and says, “Alright.”

  As soon as it’s decided we are staying put, Kole, Tsam and Alyssa work seamlessly to prepare our rest stop. I offer to help find some firewood but Tsam tells me to stay with Garrett and take the opportunity to rest. His dismissiveness irritates me and I think Garrett must sense it because he smiles and pats the ground next to him. I sit down and slide off my boots. The grazes on my feet are still angry and sore so I reach into my pouch for the purple leaves Kole gave me.

  “Are these safe?” I ask.

  Garrett frowns at me. “They’re lilac weed leaves.”

  “Kole gave them to me yesterday but—”

  “You nut.” He laughs. “If you’d used them last night those scratches would be all cleared up by now.”

  “I forgot,” I say, because I don’t want to admit that I was suspicious of them – of Kole. The others trust him, seem in awe of him almost, so why does my stomach still tighten whenever he looks at me?

  With Garrett beside me, I squeeze the leaves until they turn to mulch, then smear them onto my wounds. When I’m finished, my feet look worse than before. The leaves have created a blotchy stain, but my skin already feels less tight.

  Tsam and Alyssa return from the trees with arms full of kindling. They’re followed by Kole, who promptly hands me half of the branches he’s gathered and tells me to sort them by size into piles of logs and kindling. When Tsam notices, he whispers something in Kole’s ear. Kole’s forehead creases sharply.

  “Émi?” he says to me. “Are you capable of lifting firewood?”

  His question is so oddly direct that I laugh a little. “Yes, of course.”

  Kole turns back to Tsam. “She’s capable. We are here to protect her, not serve her.”

  A flash of anger that I haven’t seen before crosses Tsam’s face as he squares up to Kole. “She’s not like us, Kole. She’s…”

  I step between the two of them, branches still in my arms. “It’s alright,” I tell Tsam. “I want to help. I want to be useful.” Tsam looks at me and his face softens. Kole walks away.

  Later, when we’ve finished eating, Tsam apologises to me. “I’m sorry about before – with Kole. I know you can look after yourself but it’s different now, Ém. You were safe in Nhatu. Out here, you have to be more careful.”

  Safe? In Nhatu? It’s almost laughable. Since we left, Tsam has been treating me like I’m a baby bird with a broken wing, but I’m more resilient than he thinks. I’m about to tell him exactly the kind of danger I faced every day in the Red Quarter when Alyssa suddenly raises her hand in warning, telling us all to be quiet.

  I hold my breath, my eyes scouring the darkness. I see nothing but shadows. Eventually, she shakes her head and we all relax.

  The interruption has mute
d my annoyance so I tell Tsam I’m tired. He helps me unfurl a sleeping mat from my pack and, as I lie down, he crouches beside me.

  “I’ll be right by the fire if you need me,” he whispers.

  Only a few days ago, I’d have given anything to be out of Nhatu, by a campfire, with Tsam. I’m certain I dreamed of it, more than once, on those long torturous nights in Red. Now here he is, and here I am. But it’s all wrong; he feels further away from me than ever.

  “Sit for a moment?” I ask.

  Tsam glances back at the others, then folds his legs and crosses his hands in his lap.

  I lean up on my elbows. “What’s going to happen when we reach Abilene?”

  Tsam absorbs the question, blinking slowly, his feathers illuminated by the glow of the fire. “We’ll meet with the Elders. They’ll tell us what to do.”

  I feel myself frown. “You don’t know what they’re planning?”

  Tsam rubs at his forehead. “I’m just a Fledgling, Ém. Until the Ceremony, I’m not a Watcher, not really.” He glances at the others. “The Elders only allowed us to come and fetch you because my father and I persuaded them it would be better for you to learn the truth from someone you know. And because we agreed to bring Kole. But whatever intelligence they have about Mahg, his plans, Ava… They have to keep it closely guarded.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “They have a team of Watchers tracking Mahg. But the details of their work remain secret. Out of everyone in The Four Cities, our group and the team tracking Mahg are the only ones who have been allowed to know that the last piece of the stone was made into human form. We’re the only ones who know you and Ava exist.”

  “What about Mahg?” The question is out before I can stop it. “He knows. If Ava and I have been such a closely guarded secret, how did he find out about us?” I’m sitting up now. Tsam’s silver-blue eyes darken but I push on. “Could there be spies in Abilene? The Council do that sometimes, send Cadets into the Red Quarter, dressed like us.”

  Tsam shakes his head. “For all our sakes, I hope not.” He stands up and tells me to rest. The conversation is over.

  I lie back down and close my eyes, folding my knees up into my chest. Back at the campfire, I can hear Tsam whispering with the others. The rustling of paper tells me they’re plotting our course on the map. Behind me, the trees are silent. I open my eyes. I’m right. The four of them are hunched in a circle.

  I climb off my sleeping mat and slip into the shadows of the forest. I step between trees. The deeper I go, the darker it becomes but – somehow – the blackness is comforting. No stars, no moonlight, just endless dark. It’s as though I’m invisible. No one is watching me. Not the Council or the Cadets. Not my mother or Tsam.

  It’s just me.

  Ahead, something flickers, disturbing the curtain of darkness. There it is again; the palest of shimmers. I squint and it brightens, like a shadow in reverse. I move closer. The trees in front of me are now illuminated from behind as though someone has lit the flame of a blue-green lantern.

  By the time I am close enough to see what’s producing the light, it’s too late. A glowing woman stares back at me. Her eyes are sunken, her cheeks hollow. Her hair flows lank and loose. But most of all…

  She’s translucent.

  She points at me. “What are you?” Her voice is thin and breathy. She begins to float towards me, the branches of the trees passing through her as if she is made of nothing but air.

  I can’t speak.

  A chill rocks my body.

  “What are you?” she asks again and again. “What are you?” She seems to be getting bigger, taller, filling the space between us. “Not human,” she says. “Not real. Not here.”

  I try to run, but when I turn she is already in front of me. I trip and fall to the ground. She hovers over me, stretching her skeletal fingers towards my face…

  Someone calls my name.

  The ghostly woman snaps her head up and stares wildly into the trees.

  I scramble backwards and then, suddenly, Kole steps in front of me.

  “Spectre!” he bellows. “You do not belong here!”

  The woman smiles. “What is it?” she asks him.

  “You have no jurisdiction in these woods!” Kole replies.

  The Spectre – that’s what he called her – tilts her head to the side and stretches her mouth wide as though she’s about to yawn. But she doesn’t yawn. She screams.

  And it’s as if my ears are bleeding. My teeth vibrate in my skull and my skin feels as though it’s being stripped from my bones.

  Then, as quickly as she started, she stops.

  She leans closer, until Kole’s features quiver in her eerie glow. “What. Is. It?” she spits, looking at him but pointing at me.

  Kole keeps his eyes fixed on hers, like an animal challenging its opponent to fight. “This orphan is in my charge. I must return her to the Islands.”

  The Spectre laughs. Her matted hair falls across her face. “There are no Taman on the Islands.” She reaches out, pressing her index finger against his temple and stops laughing. “I can see inside your mind, Taman. I can see if you are lying.”

  Kole doesn’t blink. “I am no Taman. My loyalty is to the Overseers. This girl is a fugitive.” He grabs my arm, tight. “She must be returned.” His face has contorted into something harder. Beneath his birthmark, his eyes are like steel. He is so convincing, I almost believe I am his prisoner.

  The Spectre doesn’t. “You want the prize, don’t you? You filthy, lying Taman!”

  “Prize?”

  “The prize! The prize!” She is shouting now. “Freedom!”

  Kole keeps his eyes fixed on her, still gripping my arm, saying nothing.

  “Find the girls. Take them to him and in return he will set us free! You want it first. This is one. This is she. This is it!”

  “He?” asks Kole. “You speak of Mahg?”

  The Spectre nods. “Mahg the Dissenter, who forced us from our homes. He sent us to be his eyes. All of us – the Spectres, the Kelpies, the Ogres. Eyes and ears, eyes and ears…”

  Kole laughs then, and plants his hands on his hips. “You expect me to believe Mahg sent you here? Even he could not wield such power over a Spectre…”

  She lowers her gaze. Fear flashes across her face. “Dark magick,” she says, shuddering. “Controls us, binds us. We are his. He is ours.” She is silent for a moment, then her head snaps back up and her gaze fixes on me. “Oh,” she breathes, as though suddenly understanding. “Could it be?”

  Kole tries to push me back into the trees, and raises his arms up as if he might be able to fight her off. But she surges forwards, straight through his chest, and he falls to the ground, convulsing like he’s been struck by lightning.

  She strokes my hair, tweaks her finger under my chin. “Are you the one he seeks?” The finger that was under my chin moves to my temple.

  From the ground, Kole shouts, “No!” But it’s too late. A brutal mind-numbing pain swallows me up. Waves of it ricochet through my body. I want to burn the Spectre like I burned Falk and the vine, but I can’t catch hold of my sparks, I can’t focus. The fire is there and my hands are fizzing but the pain tramples it back down.

  The Spectre is on me now, surrounding me, mauling my skin. I feel as if I’m being sliced open. I try to hone in on the energy in my gut. I find the sparks and I latch on to them. I coax them up into my throat, into my chest, into my arms, and they bleed into the pain, eat it up, then churn it out. This time, the energy doesn’t just flow from my fingertips, it seeps from every pore.

  I stagger to my feet. The light is pouring from me now, battering the ground like a forcefield. A tree catches fire. The Spectre is forced backwards. She is clamouring to reach me. I open my palms at her and the sparks burst out like an explosion. I am blinded by their brightness. Everything is white.

  And then it turns dark.

  When I open my eyes again I am on the back of a horse, slumped over with my cheek p
ressed against its mane. An arm is around my waist. It is tanned and muscular – Kole’s arm. A second horse is trotting beside us. I try to sit up and Kole whispers, “Easy.”

  My words are thin. The effort of speaking makes my head throb. “What happened?”

  Kole waves a signal up at the sky. Then he tells the horse to stop, dismounts and lifts me to the ground. My knees wobble but he helps me to a nearby tree. I sit down and lean against the trunk; the pressure of the bark against my skin makes me wince. Every part of me throbs.

  I look around. We are no longer in the Alder Woods; grassy tree-scattered landscape stretches as far as I can see, undulating in peaks and troughs beneath a cloudy blue sky. The Watchers glide down and land gracefully at my side. Tsam takes hold of my arm, gently, like I’m made of glass. “Émi,” he breathes, brushing his fingers across my forehead.

  Alyssa is standing in front of me, blocking the light. “Are you alright?” she asks sharply.

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Then perhaps you can tell us what in The Four Cities you were thinking? Running off on your own like that?”

  I try to remember. The camp fire, slipping out into the trees. It all comes rushing back.

  “I’m sorry. I just needed some space – time alone.”

  Alyssa snorts. “You needed space?”

  I try to stand up but I wobble and sit back down again. I hate how close I am to crying. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “Do you think this is a holiday? Whatever difficulties you faced in your walled city are nothing compared to what will happen if Mahg finds your sister before we do. Or captures you, or—”

  “Lyss,” whispers Garrett, “I think that’s—”

  “No! If I’m the only one willing to tell her the truth, that’s fine.” Alyssa crouches down so her face is close to mine. “If that Spectre saw inside your mind, she knows who you are. And she’s working for Mahg. He could be following us right now. He could be attacking Abilene right now. This isn’t just about you. It’s about keeping everyone in The Four Cities safe. You stupid, naive—”