Dreams of Fire
by Christian Cura
Copyright © 2019 by Christian Cura
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, contact: [email protected]
FIRST EDITION
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
Chapter One
Kara Hartman Prison, Canadian Wilderness, 1 year ago
The cold stone corridor stretched before Kara as she walked its length. In the silence of the passage, her quiet footsteps echoed against its gray walls. Every steel door she passed marked a memory of the events that led her to this point. Every step she took struck her like a pang of regret. She barely felt the cold draft as it touched her pale face and hands or heard the sound of her brother’s footsteps behind her. Kara’s mind was flooded with memories of fire, blood and death. In the ghastly glow that filled the passage she could again see the blood of a Sacrifice and the deathly pallor of one she had lost. The memories haunted Kara and burned her mind’s eye as she drew closer to the cell at the end of the corridor.
Kara stood before the last door, the culmination of her dark reverie. Her heart throbbed for the one on the other side of it, the one she could not save. Suddenly her brother, John touched her shoulder. She turned and looked up at him; his pale blue eyes fixed on her.
“Kara, you don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.” he said softly.
For a moment, she considered walking away. It would be so much easier to leave and pretend as if nothing happened. It would be so easy to not have to look upon the one she had failed, but Kara had not come to do what was easy. She came to do what was necessary.
“No, I need this,” Kara replied firmly.
John looked at her as if he were about to say something, but even as the words formed in his mind he held back. He cast a spell to unlock the door and pushed it open. The door creaked as it swung on its hinges, and a cold gust blew out of the cell. Kara’s short blonde hair fluttered in the wind. She stepped through the threshold as John pulled the heavy door shut behind her.
In the corner of the cell sat a young woman forlorn on the stone floor. Her bare feet were drawn toward her as she shivered in a tattered robe. Her wrists were bound and shackled with thick chains. The woman glared up at her with dark eyes that blazed with anger.
“What are you doing here?” she growled— the searing words stung with the heat of her wrath.
“I came to say goodbye and…I’m sorry.” Kara said. She could barely maintain eye contact with the woman in chains. Her simmering gaze pierced Kara like a dagger.
“Sorry? Is that all you have to say to me?” the prisoner exclaimed.
Kara’s eyes grew misty as another winter gust blew through the tiny barred window of the cell. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from yourself.”
“Save me? Is that what you think you were trying to do? I was so close to getting him back and you interfered!” the woman yelled as she stabbed an accusing finger at her.
“I couldn’t let you cross that line, Charlotte. I didn’t want you to become…this.” Kara said.
“I’ll make you pay for what you stole from me!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I will get out of here, I will find you and I will make you pay!”
Kara’s eyes dropped to the floor. “No. You won’t. Goodbye, Charlotte.” She turned away and pounded on the door.
“I will burn you alive and reduce everything and everyone you love to ashes!” the prisoner bellowed. John opened the door from outside just as Kara turned back to Charlotte.
“If you ever come after me or anyone I care about, I will stop you.” Kara said firmly.
“Oh, like how you stopped me from killing Anthony?” Charlotte replied with a chilling smile. Kara took a step toward the chained woman but John grasped her arm from behind. Charlotte tossed her head back and laughed.
“Don’t you ever speak his name again!” Kara shouted.
Charlotte’s laughter echoed against the walls of her cell. “I hope you look over your shoulder everywhere you go! Whenever you see fire, you will see my face and hear my voice. Let my words be burned into your memory! I will raze everything you love to the ground and I won’t stop until the bones of your loved ones are ashes at your feet!”
Kara raised her hand and Charlotte was suddenly hurled backward into the wall by some invisible force. Her feet hung suspended above the stone floor and her arms outstretched at her sides. But Charlotte simply gazed at Kara with dark, simmering eyes and a malevolent grin.
“Kara, enough!” John said quietly. Kara’s anger boiled as she stood with her hand raised, her adversary pinned to the wall. For a long moment the two women locked eyes; one firmly set to defend— the other determined to destroy, but John was right. Charlotte was imprisoned, stripped of her freedom and her magic. There was no escape for her. Kara dropped her hand and Charlotte’s feet hit the ground. “Let’s go,” John said in a gentle voice. Kara slowly turned away from Charlotte and followed her brother out of the cell.
“I’ll be seeing you…friend!” Charlotte called as the door slammed shut behind them.
Kara Hartman District Wharf, District of Columbia, Present
Kara set the last box of her art supplies on the floor of her spacious new apartment. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed with satisfaction. The young woman stepped around the maze of boxes on the floor until she came to a window where she took in the scenic view of the Potomac. Its deep blue waters drifted by lazily as the sun descended upon a fiery horizon. The trees on the far shore were black against the golden orange hues of the sunset. Below Kara’s private balcony, city dwellers strolled along the waterfront as a bright yellow water taxi docked at the pier. In the distance, a queue of people streamed out of the boat and joined the bustle of the waterfront.
Kara jumped at the sound of shattering glass. She turned and saw her assistant, Daniela, slap her forehead and groan.
A myriad of glass shards lay at Daniela’s feet, and she shook her head at her own clumsiness. “Lo siento, Kara. I thought I would spruce up your new place with some flowers, but I knocked over the vase by accident!” She crouched on the floor and started to gingerly pick up the broken pieces.
“That’s okay, Dani. I’ll clean this up. You go home.” Kara said.
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.” Daniela replied as she looked up from the floor.
Kara grinned. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Daniela hesitantly dropped the shards in her hand on the floor. “All right. Goodnight, boss.”
“Goodnight, Dani.”
Daniela nearly tripped over a box of junk as she left. Kara shook her head and chuckled to herself. Then she turned to the pile of glass on the floor. That had been her favorite vase, custom-blown by a friend of hers. It wasn’t like she could just go to the store and buy another. There was no other vase like it, and she should have been upset. She would have been … if she was an ordinary woman.
Kara waited until Daniela’s footsteps echoed away in the corridor. Then she outstretched her arms and brought her index fingers and thumbs together in a diamond with her other fingers fanned outward. They intersected and folded in complex patterns as she murmured an incantation. Kara’s vocal inflection and dexterity sent warm energy flowing from her hands and into the broken
glass. The shards rattled against the wooden floor then floated up and swirled in a tiny vortex. The fragments of glass assembled themselves back together from the bottom up until the last piece dropped into place. Good as new.
Kara picked up the vase from the floor and set it on the marble countertop. Then she frowned. She tried not to cast magic these days because it always reminded her of — the Incident. But the vase was priceless and one of a kind, so Kara made an exception. She walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch to rest from the day’s exertion.
The next morning, Kara awoke an hour earlier than usual to continue unpacking her things. She strolled into her workspace clad in loose pajamas and a tank top and opened a box set against the wall. She placed her pencils, erasers and blending stumps neatly on the desk along with her open sketchbook. Then she flattened the box and set up her easel by the window. As the sun slowly rose over the city, the stacks of boxes dwindled until they were all flattened and empty in a heap on the floor. A wooden rack next to her desk was half-filled with blank canvases and her pristine desk was fully stocked with all the supplies she needed. A white screen hung on the wall to her right with a tripod and camera before it. At 6:30, Kara prepared a mug of coffee for herself, then showered and dressed for work.
On her way to the studio, Kara picked up a quick breakfast at a café on the waterfront and ate as she walked to the Metro. When she arrived at work, Daniela greeted her with a smile and the day’s work began. Her morning flew by as she churned out commissions to the quiet rhythm of Daniela’s typing. Around 12:30, Kara and Daniela ceased their labors for lunch. They joined Terry, a sculptor who worked down the hall, for a hearty meal at a local falafel place. They talked and laughed casually about the current happenings in their personal lives as they dined by the window. When their meal concluded, they walked back to the studio together and went back to work.
As the day wound down for the afternoon, Kara stood at the sink and rinsed her brushes under the faucet. She was almost done when her soft-spoken assistant tapped her on the shoulder. Kara looked at Daniela who stood behind her. “Yes, Dani?”
“I’m just reminding you that the Santos family has invited you to their son’s birthday party tonight.” said Daniela.
“Grácias, Dani.” Kara replied.
“De nada, boss.” Then Daniela turned and went back to her side of the studio.
That evening, Kara returned to her apartment and resumed unpacking. She stacked all the plates and bowls neatly inside the cupboards and stowed all the silverware. At 6:00 pm, she showered and dressed for the party.
Darkness had fallen in earnest by the time Kara stepped out of the taxi in front of the Santos estate. She closed the door behind her and the taxi drove quietly away. Her heels clicked as she walked up the brick steps and entered the front yard of the mansion. She opened the steel gate and walked along a brick path that divided a perfectly manicured lawn. The bushes were meticulously trimmed and the grass a vibrant green. The tall, arched windows of the mansion glowed brightly in the night as silhouettes of the Santos clan talked and laughed boisterously within. Before Kara was a stone fountain whose water sparkled in the glow of a tiny spotlight. She walked around the basin then ascended the steps of an elegant portico with vines that spiraled up the columns.
Kara stood before the dark mahogany door dressed in a white woolen coat and a small purse. She wore bright red lipstick and thin golden hoops that dangled at her ears. She rang the doorbell and almost immediately the door was opened by a formally dressed butler who stepped aside with a bow. Kara entered the bright foyer, and the servant took her coat.
From deep within the mansion, Kara heard loud rapid-fire exchanges in Spanish interspersed with English phrases and words. The playful shrieking of children punctuated the chatter as they scurried from one room to the next in a never-ending game of tag. She walked tentatively across the spotless hardwood floor and passed beneath a radiant glass chandelier. To her right, a wide, majestic staircase rose in a spiral to the second floor. Kara entered a short corridor which opened up into a spacious dining area with a living room to her far right.
Clusters of elderly and middle-aged relatives sat closely together as they dined sumptuously over hearty Latin fare. The warm, spicy aromas of their feast floated beneath Kara’s. Suddenly Armand Santos, the patriarch of the family, looked up from the table and saw Kara. The wide, regal man stood up and smiled at her from across the room. He walked around the table and greeted her warmly.
“Kara! It’s good to see you tonight. Bienvenído a mi casa. Welcome.” said Santos. Despite his graying hair, his dark eyes still glowed with an innate youth.
“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Santos.” Kara said with a gentle smile.
“Everyone! This is Kara, the artist who created that lovely painting above the fireplace.” Armand announced to the room.
An elderly woman seated at the table turned her head and marveled at the finished work. “You are the one who made that?” she asked in amazement. The other relatives nodded and murmured appreciatively.
“Si, señora.” Kara replied.
“How long did it take you?” the woman asked.
“Tres días.” she answered.
“Wow! Lovely work, sweetheart.” the other woman replied.
“Grácias, señora.” Kara replied.
“There’s plenty of food, Kara. Please eat, drink and enjoy yourself!” Santos said.
Kara thanked him. Then the patriarch turned and rejoined his companions at the table.
She walked up to the buffet table and loaded her plate with Peruvian chicken, olives, empanadas and rice. Then she sat at the table and dined ravenously. Within minutes, she cleaned off her plate and went back for more. After she ate her fill, she poured herself a glass of Madeira and mingled with the other guests. Kara did the best she could with what little Spanish she knew, but it led to a few awkward moments when she said something grammatically incorrect. The guests laughed with her and corrected her gently. When there was a break in the conversation, Kara glanced out the window and saw a large deck dotted with guests who drank and talked before a crowded dance floor in the backyard. She wondered why they didn’t seem affected by the cold. Kara excused herself politely from the cluster of partygoers and went outside to investigate. She slid back the door and stepped out onto the deck. Immediately, she was surprised by the summerlike warmth that surrounded her. Kara could feel the currents of magic that surrounded the backyard and warmed the air for the guests. Of course, a Warming Spell. She sipped her wine and strolled casually along the deck as she enjoyed the magically induced summer night.
Kara walked by a trellis with vines woven into its latticework, then stepped down into the grass where she approached the dance floor. A singer strummed his guitar rapidly as he sang to the jubilant partygoers. He stood on a small stage and carried an energetic rhythm as the lively crowd twirled and swayed before him. Kara stood at the edge and watched with delight as the partygoers capered about joyously. She spotted Cristobal, the birthday boy, dressed in a white button-down shirt and dark slacks. He danced the Samba with a young lady Kara did not recognize. She brought her glass up to her lips when she suddenly noticed a woman whose gaze was fixed on her. The woman stood on the opposite side of the dance floor and was dressed fully in black. Her long mane of dark brown hair was tipped with bright pink highlights. She gazed at her with dark, smoldering eyes as the light from the lanterns glinted off the lip ring at the corner of her mouth. Kara gave her a gentle smile and waved. She was lost in the woman’s gaze as she stood there at the edge of the floor. She thought she saw the woman look back at her with a smile as she turned and vanished into the crowd. Who was she? And why was she here? Somehow, Kara got the feeling she was not here to celebrate. Kara leaned to the left and right and tried to catch another glimpse of the woman, but she was gone.
Suddenly, her phone chimed within her bag. Kara went to a table on the grass and set her glass down. Then she unzipped h
er bag and retrieved her phone. The screen glowed with a text from Daniela. “How is the party, boss?”
Kara smiled and began typing a reply but she was interrupted by piercing cries that rose from the crowd. Kara looked up and saw the partygoers fleeing for the house. They ran and shrieked in dismay as Kara turned her head to see the source of their sudden terror: a massive, demonic Hound had leaped over the fence and was bounding across the grass. Its red eyes were ablaze with a sinister glow as it growled and bared its teeth. Cristobal panted and sprinted toward the deck, his eyes wide with terror. The mysterious woman reemerged. She walked toward the monstrous creature and held out her hand and summoned a ball of flame which ignited in her palm. The woman hurled it at the creature and the flames exploded against the monster’s flank. Cristobal burst into the living room and his mother slammed the door shut. The members of the Santos clan stood and watched fearfully while the battle unfolded outside. The Hound toppled over sideways then immediately sprang to its feet again. It growled and turned on the mysterious woman who circled it like a panther ready to strike. Then without warning, it lunged and swiped a massive paw at her. She nimbly dodged the attack and hurled another fireball at it. The flames singed the Hound’s fur and Kara could smell the rancid odor.
Kara was not certain how long the woman could hold her own against the Hound, so she decided to act. She gestured fluidly with her hands and felt the energy flow through her arms. Then she fanned out her fingers and pulled her hands apart which opened a portal behind the beast. The air seemed to ripple like water behind the Hound as a circular gap expanded through the empty space. The edges of the portal glowed like embers around a window to another world. To Kara’s dismay, another Hound poked its head through the portal. It stepped through while the first Hound lunged again and snapped its jaws but immediately, it was knocked backward by a shockwave. It fell to the ground and instantly sprang to its feet. Then the two demons pounced together at the woman in black. She ducked and rolled sideways then screamed as a Hound dragged its claws down her arm. The demon-hunter traced a semi-circle of fire around herself and the beasts with the portal at the rear. Then she blasted the Hounds with one fireball after the next as they slowly retreated toward the portal. They whimpered pathetically and inched backward amid the heat of the magical flames. Kara stood on the outside of the ring and summoned a whip which materialized in her hand. It unfurled to the ground like a glowing white serpent; its intense glow illuminated her face from beneath. She cracked her whip fiercely against the hide of the creatures while the other woman shot steady streams of fire at them. The Hounds were driven to the other side of the portal. Kara clutched her hand in a fist and immediately, the portal closed. The night was safe and peaceful once again.
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