Dreams of Fire

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Dreams of Fire Page 8

by Christian Cura


  “Shut up, Tony.” Selene replied. The bartender chuckled and set the plates on the table gently.

  “Here’s your food.” he said with a suppressed laugh.

  “Thanks, man.” said Selene. Tony turned and walked away just as Kara sunk the eight ball in the corner pocket.

  “Well, well. The relentless Kara Hartman emerges victorious.” Selene said with a smile as she sat down on a stool opposite from her.

  “You fought valiantly. Bards will sing of your efforts for ages to come.” Kara replied. Selene laughed and bit into a mozzarella stick. She pulled it away as the melted cheese stretched between her lips and the other half.

  “So, how’d you get so good at pool?”

  Kara swallowed a bite of her taco before she answered. “Charlotte and I used to play pool in the rec room at the Academy. I taught her and eventually she became better than me.”

  Selene’s eyebrows rose up in surprise. “Really?”

  “Yeah. The other students would always challenge us, but we were unstoppable.” Kara took another bite and swallowed. “Anthony and Marcus were always such sore losers.”

  Selene tilted her head thoughtfully. “You don’t really talk much about him. Anthony, I mean. What was he like?”

  Kara grinned and downed another gulp of beer. “He was always such a clown. He made me laugh whenever I was upset and he was a fantastic musician. Anthony even brought his guitar to the Academy and whenever I visited his dorm, he was always strumming away and singing to himself.”

  Selene smiled softly. “He sounds a lot like my brother, Percy. He was always messing around on his keyboard and making his own rhythms. I bet he’s on the other side playing those keys like a mad man right now.”

  Selene’s mention of the other side triggered a vision in Kara’s mind of her brother’s open unseeing eyes the night she lost him. She could see again his limbs outstretched around him as blood pooled beneath his corpse. But Kara quickly shoved the memory away. Thankfully, Selene didn’t see the far-away look in her eyes. She was observing a cluster of patrons around another pool table. “Oh! Speaking of music, do you want to hit the record store later?”

  “Sure.” Kara said, grateful for the change of subject. “Up for another game?” she asked with a nod toward the pool table.

  “You bet. You’re going down this time.”

  “Eh. I might let you win.”

  Kara clung tightly around Selene’s waist as they zipped through the city on her motorcycle. She weaved around the taxis and mopeds and blazed through the traffic lights. Kara looked over Selene’s shoulder and smiled as the cool breeze blew through her hair. The roar of her motorcycle filled her ears and the sheer speed made her heart race. She caught a whiff of Selene’s perfume as her long brown tresses fluttered in the wind. Kara breathed deeply and sighed with content.

  The rainbow-colored buildings of Adams Morgan flew past them as the sunset burned brightly on that wintery evening. Selene turned a corner and entered a narrow one-way street with cars parked on either side. Bare trees stood at regular intervals on the sidewalks and passersby drifted in and out of the gaudy-colored storefronts. Selene slowed as she pulled up to the sidewalk and stomped down on the kickstand. Then she killed the engine and they dismounted. Selene took Kara by the hand and they strolled into the record shop together.

  The sales floor was crowded with tables jam-packed with crates of vinyl records. The walls were lined with shelves of CDs and cassette tapes from years past. Kara and Selene browsed through the record selection as an old hit by Bruce Springsteen played in the background. Selene pulled out an album by Pat Benatar and flipped it over to see the song list. Kara looked up from her own browsing and saw the record in Selene’s hands.

  “Pat Benatar was Charlotte’s favorite,” Kara said.

  “Oh yeah?” Selene said as she continued to read the song titles.

  “On the weekends we used to sit in our dorm and listen to records together. I remember she knew the words to every single Pat Benatar song we heard,” Kara said fondly.

  Selene smiled. “I think I would’ve liked this chick.”

  “I think you would’ve too…if she hadn’t…” Kara trailed off into silence. Selene looked up from the song list.

  “If what?” she asked.

  Kara locked eyes with Selene. The memory that stirred in her mind and chilled her soul was off-limits to most people. But somehow, she felt safe with Selene. She had been through so much that Kara didn’t feel as though Selene would judge her. “Kara, what is it?” she pressed after a few seconds of silence.

  Kara cast her eyes around at the other customers in the store, then dropped her voice and stood closer to Selene. She continued to browse through the records as she spoke. “After I had known Charlotte for about three years, I started seeing a dark side to her.” Selene nodded to confirm she was listening. She placed her record in a basket and kept browsing. “One night, Charlotte wanted to prank one of her childhood bullies, Ricardo Cruz. He and his friends used to call her names when her magic started to manifest. They would always push her around and abuse her at school. She wanted to use a Hallucinogen Spell on Ricardo to make him see his worst fear. It was supposed to be harmless and for a few minutes it was. Charlotte and I tracked him down as he walked home from the mall that night. We hid behind a dumpster in an alleyway and waited for him. As he approached, we started casting the spell together. We watched him nervously skirt around imaginary spiders. Then he began swatting at his neck and arms. He cried out and started walking faster. But then he froze as more spiders descended on him from above. We heard him scream while he turned and broke into a run, but he was already surrounded by a multitude of arachnids. He turned this way and that looking for an escape, but there was none! The creatures Ricardo feared most encroached on him from all sides and from above. We laughed hysterically and I told Charlotte that was enough, but she continued casting. The spiders closed in on Ricardo and crawled up his legs and arms. They tore through his clothes and devoured his flesh. He screamed in agony and writhed on the ground. I told Charlotte to stop but she completely ignored me. She just stood there and watched Ricardo suffer with this terrible smile on her face. Finally, I had to sever the spell. When Ricardo realized the whole thing was an illusion, he got up and ran away. Then, Charlotte and I got into a huge fight. ‘I told you to stop!’ I shouted. ‘Why didn’t you stop?’ Charlotte just gave me this cold look and said ‘Well, it’s not like he was actually hurt.’ I told her that it felt real to him and that she took the illusion too far and that he would probably be scarred for life now. ‘And what about my scars? What about all the pain he inflicted on me?’ she yelled. I told her this was a mistake, that we shouldn’t have come out. Then she glared at me and said she thought I was on her side. I said I was, but not if it meant torturing people. ‘He deserved what he got!’ Charlotte replied. And then I said ‘Maybe. But this side of you scares me and I will not help you take revenge on anyone ever again!’ After that, we didn’t talk for almost four weeks. Even after we made up, we were still never quite the same. That was the last prank we ever pulled.”

  When Kara finished her tale, Selene said, “I’m sorry that happened to you. But you did the right thing by breaking off the spell.”

  “I know. I just wish I could’ve convinced Charlotte to do the same.”

  “You can’t put that on yourself, Kara. Charlotte allowed herself to be consumed by her own darkness.” Selene continued to flip through the records in the crate.

  Kara’s eyes seemed to stare down at nothing as she fell silent for a moment. “I really believed my friendship could save her.”

  “Not everyone can be saved. Some are just…too broken.”

  “Have you ever lost someone you care about? I mean, like how I lost Charlotte?” Kara asked.

  Selene shook her head. “Not exactly. But yeah, I’ve lost plenty of friends.”

  “How are you so strong despite all the tragedy you’ve experienced?” Kara asked.<
br />
  “Because someone helped me be strong.” she replied with a smile. “And now I’m helping you.” Then she leaned forward and kissed Kara on the lips. Kara smiled as her cheeks blushed. “Did you find anything you like?” Selene asked with a nod toward the records.

  “Actually, yeah I did.” She pulled out a record by Paul McCartney and showed her.

  “Nice.”

  After another hour of browsing, Kara and Selene left the record store with two bags full of vinyl albums. They went back to Selene’s apartment and listened to the music they bought while they drank and enjoyed each other’s company. When their evening together was concluded, Selene gave Kara a ride back to her apartment where they kissed each other goodnight.

  The next week seemed to fly by as Kara enjoyed a steady stream of work interspersed with thoughts of Selene. Even while she made under drawings and mixed her colors, Kara found herself reminiscing over their time together. She hummed all of their favorite songs and tried to think of other things they could do together. There was a new botanical garden opening near Dupont Circle. Would Selene like to go there? Maybe. What about that creperie in Clarendon? Definitely. Daniela found it increasingly hard to get Kara’s attention while she painted. She often had to call Kara’s name several times before she answered. Then Kara would blink rapidly as if snapping out of a trance and apologize before asking what she wanted to talk about. Daniela would usually give her small reminders to get prints made or to ship a few pieces to her clients. Then Kara would thank her and return to her blissful preoccupied state.

  Saba Qureshi, Prison, Canadian Wilderness, Present

  Saba looked up from the ground as sweat trickled from her forehead. She panted and her heart beat wildly as Rachel stood over her with fists raised. She had just knocked her down for what felt like the fifteenth time that morning and Rachel had barely strained herself to do it. Their silver bracelets glinted softly on a table off to the side. Without them, their magic was negated under the crimson glow of the Tower. Saba glanced longingly at the sparkling bracelets and ached to fill the void that opened deep within her soul when her magic was stifled. Now she knew how all the prisoners felt every day they served their sentence.

  “On your feet, Saba,” Rachel said as a cold breeze blew a strand of golden hair across her forehead. Saba pushed herself up off the ground with a grimace and raised her hands defensively. Rachel threw a jab which Saba parried then followed immediately with a cross punch to the face. Her head snapped backward with a groan then Rachel twisted her body and swung her leg outward. She flung her right arm back to compensate for momentum as Saba just barely blocked her roundhouse kick. Rachel’s shin collided with her arms. Saba stumbled then ducked her head as Rachel’s other foot nearly clocked her in the face. Saba crouched low and spun around with her leg thrust straight out and swept Rachel’s balancing leg from under her. Her partner toppled to the ground but instantly sprang to her feet once again. Saba feigned with a cross punch then dropped her shoulder for an uppercut which Rachel blocked. She then chopped her neck and punched her in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of Saba as she staggered away and collapsed once again. She breathed hard as she struggled to rise when suddenly Rachel offered her hand.

  Saba looked up and grasped it as Rachel pulled her to her feet. “Let’s save some fight for the rogues, yeah?” she said with a soft smile.

  “Yes…that sounds like a plan,” Saba replied sullenly.

  Rachel’s brow crinkled with concern. “Do you need me to use less force?”

  “No.” Saba replied quickly. “I have to get better.”

  “Saba, don’t expect too much of yourself.”

  “I’m fine. I can handle it,” Saba insisted firmly.

  Rachel held her gaze steadily for a moment. “Okay.” she finally said in a skeptical tone.

  The pair of them walked toward the table and fastened their bracelets around their wrists. A flame ignited from deep within herself as Saba felt her magic revive. She sighed in relief to feel the churning energy once more. She turned to go back to her quarters and prepare for the day’s work when Rachel stopped her. She cycled through a series of gestures with her hands and cast a Healing Spell over Saba. Ripples of orange light emanated from her hands as Saba’s aches and bruises vanished. Waves of tranquility washed over her. When Rachel sensed all the tissues had been repaired, she released her spell and Saba thanked her quietly. The slightest hint of a smile curved her lips as she wiped a few drops of sweat from her forehead.

  “Let’s get ready for work,” Rachel replied. “We’ve got patrol in Vancouver today.”

  “All right. I’ll be there,” said Saba.

  Saba Qureshi Vancouver, Canada, Present

  Saba sat quietly in the cruiser while Rachel drove through the streets of Vancouver. She gazed out the window at the verdant sward and busy plazas grateful for a respite from her brutal training. The glowing outline of a map levitated above the dashboard and showed all the surrounding streets and adjacent blocks. Rachel’s Detection Spell was designed to monitor the surrounding area for fluctuations in mystical energy and pinpoint their location on the map. It had filters so that it would only alert them if a combative spell was cast, like a fireball, a lightning bolt, or some kind of weapon creation. Its orange glow tinged their faces and drew stares from the non-magical populace. Rachel pulled up to a red light when suddenly she spoke.

  “So where are you from, Saba?” she asked.

  “I am from a small village in Pakistan called Marala,” Saba lied.

  “Really? What’s it like over there?”

  “It’s a very rural place. Life there is very simple, very slow. The people are poor but happy for the most part,” Saba continued to look out the window. The light turned green and they began to move again.

  “That sounds nice,” Rachel replied. “How did you end up here in Canada?”

  “I emigrated to Toronto with my parents when I was about eight years of age.”

  “Wow, so young,” Rachel interjected.

  Saba nodded. “We had to live with relatives while my father looked for work. He learned the hard way there’s no demand for blacksmiths in Toronto. So, he went back to school and got a degree in IT.”

  “Can your parents wield magic?” Rachel asked.

  “Neither one,” Saba answered quickly. “I get it from my grandfather.”

  “Interesting,” said her partner. “When did your magic manifest?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “That’s a bit late,” Rachel commented as her eyebrows rose. Mystics whose powers manifested late were often weaker than mystics whose powers manifested at an earlier age. Which is what Saba needed them to think of her.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” she replied simply.

  “Where did you study?”

  “I studied at The Toronto Academy of Magic,” replied Saba.

  “That’s where Marcus attended,” Rachel turned and they circled the block once more. “What was your focus?”

  “Photomancy.”

  Rachel grinned. “My aunt studied that as well.” She glanced at the floating map which remained neutral. Thankfully, there was no action during their first patrol together. Saba had allowed herself to get beat up plenty of times since she was garrisoned at the stronghold. She was not eager at this point to encounter more violence.

  Saba and Rachel spent the rest of their uneventful patrol getting to know one another. Rachel told her about her childhood, her family and her magical education and Saba mostly just listened. She felt remorse for telling Rachel so many lies about herself but it was necessary. No one could know her identity or her true mission until she executed it. She looked out the window and grinned.

  Amelia Schumacher Prison, Canadian Wilderness, Present

  Later that afternoon, Amelia sat before John’s desk while she patiently waited for him to finish a report for the Council. His fingers typed feverishly at the keyboard while he pored over data about rogue activity in Vancouver. His desk
was cluttered with charts and graphs submitted to him by countless underlings who worked in the administrative wing. When at last he sent it off, he looked up at Amelia and said “All right, what did you want to talk about?”

  “It’s about Saba,” Amelia said.

  John appeared unsurprised. “What about her?”

  Amelia hesitated before she continued. “I just feel that something is off about her, like she’s hiding something.”

  “You’re the second one to say that. What makes you feel that way?”

  “Last night in the commons area, Saba knew that guitar belonged to Anthony although she knows nothing about you or your family. And right before she said that she looked very intently at the instrument…the way I do when I read someone’s magical energy.” Amelia answered.

  “And you suspect that Saba also has this ability?”

  “Yes, sir. If I’m correct, it would mean Saba is more mature in her abilities than she would like us to believe,” said Amelia.

 

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