Fire Fall

by Bethany Frenette

  He hesitated only a second. Then he nodded and gathered Esther into his arms. I saw her eyelids flicker. A groan escaped her lips. And then she and Leon disappeared, and there was only a smear of blood on the floor where they’d been.

  I stood, facing Mom and Shane.

  Charles’s desk was positioned between them, its contents knocked askew. The chair had been shoved to the ground, its wheels spinning as Shane thrust it away. For a moment neither of them moved—they waited, assessing, searching for some opening to seize.

  “Stay back, Audrey. I’ve got this,” Mom told me.

  “You don’t want me to amplify?”

  “I want you to stay back,” she repeated.

  Shane was still watching her. “I know you as well,” he said. “I have heard your voice through other ears. You call to the dark. You are no stranger to hate. You’ve tasted the blood of the hunt.”

  “I mean to taste yours in a second.”

  “Brave words, but meaningless,” he said. “If you stop the flow of life in this meat, I’ll take another. There are others, waiting. Eager to know my will. We are near the end now. We are at the cusp. Once the Circle has been opened, I’ll sate your thirst for blood. I will give you the first sip when I carve out your Kin-child’s heart.”

  With a growl, Mom jumped up onto the desk and then threw herself toward him.

  He evaded, but she battled him backward across the room, their movements almost too rapid for me to follow. Mom dodged, swung, aimed for his neck. Lights spun out from her fingertips. Shane retreated, again and again, though none of Mom’s blows seemed to connect. His talons swiped toward her head, then her chest, but didn’t catch. Finally, she had him backed up against the window, and with a sudden, violent shove she thrust him through it. Glass shattered, flying out all around them. Mom ducked her head out the window to see where he’d fallen. Her hair had fallen loose from its bun, blowing across her shoulders.

  She turned back to me for a second. Her brow puckered. “Wait here,” she said, then leaped down from the window after him.

  I walked to the window, picking my away across the glass. A gust of wind billowed in, scattering all the papers on Charles’s desk. They floated up into the air and then settled slowly to the floor. Careful not to cut myself on the shards that stuck in the window frame, I peered out into the dark of the yard. We were on the third floor—or at least I was. I could see Mom down in the grass below, the arc of lights flashing as she moved. Neither of them appeared to have been injured by the fall. Shane went on the offensive, swinging toward her, but she caught his arm, bending it backward. He kicked himself free from her and then held back warily. They circled each other across the lawn, the stars bright overhead.

  Some of the stars were red.

  “Audrey.”

  I whirled. Leon stood before me, his shirt stained with Esther’s blood.

  I almost couldn’t ask the question. I looked down at my feet, at the glass crushed beneath my sandals. A few of Charles’s books had toppled from the shelves. One lay open beside me, its pages rustling in the breeze. Finally, I said, “Is she still alive?”

  “She’s alive,” he said. He moved to my side, lifting his hands toward my shoulders, but he didn’t touch me. After a second, he let his arms fall. “They were taking her in when I left. We should get back there.”

  I nodded. “Mom is”—I turned, looking back through the window. She and Shane had vanished—“uh. Gone.”

  “I’ll let her know to meet us there.”

  “Thank you for helping Esther,” I said.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me to him and teleported.

  I sat in the hospital waiting room, listening to the motion of the people around me: the chatter of nurses, the little boy snapping gum. Esther was going to live. While her condition was still serious, she was stable. There were severe lacerations to her upper chest, and she’d broken a few bones, so they were keeping her sedated for the time being.

  Leon lurked at the other end of the room, silent and brooding. He was keeping a specific distance, it seemed to me. Not close enough that he’d have to communicate, not far enough that he wouldn’t see it if some Harrower crawled up and tried to drag me Beneath. He was there, at the end of the tether, I thought—our Guardian bond acting as a leash. Well, we’d been warned about that. We were stuck together, regardless of what either of us wished. And right now he clearly didn’t wish it.

  Mom arrived shortly after midnight. She’d changed out of her Morning Star hoodie, replacing it with a tank top I was pretty sure belonged to me. She must’ve fished it out of my room at Esther’s, I decided, since she also dropped my phone and my purse in my lap. She’d exchanged her black pants for jeans. She’d showered, too; her hair was damp, and there didn’t appear to be even a drop of blood on her. When I asked what had happened to Shane, she grimaced.

  “You killed him?” I breathed.

  She shook her head. “He escaped. I’m not sure I even injured him. He’s more powerful than we ever gave him credit for.”

  Or the Beneath itself was gaining strength.

  Mom stationed herself at the hospital, in case Shane decided to go after Esther again. She’d spoken with the other Guardians, including the reinforcements from the other Circles. Every leader and elder among the Kin was researching the situation. They were trying to come up with a plan, she said, but at the moment they had nothing.

  We spent the night in the hospital waiting room. I slept intermittently, curled up on one of the couches with my head tucked against the arm. I wondered where we were supposed to go. Mom wouldn’t let me return to our house. And the house in St. Paul was no longer safe, either. I doubted she’d pack me up and send me to Leon’s little apartment, if he would have even agreed to that.

  I learned the answer the following morning.

  There had been three additional attacks during the night while Mom was at the hospital keeping watch over Esther. Three disappearances. None of them had even had time to contact the Guardians assigned to protect them.

  “I’ve discussed it with the Guardians and a few members of the Kin already,” Mom said, coming to sit beside me in the waiting room. “It’s time to consider next steps. I’ve come to a decision.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “At this point,” she said, “it’s clear that Shane is strong enough to breach the Circle just about anywhere within the Cities that he chooses. And we can’t protect every member of the Kin every hour of the day.”

  I stared at her. “Then what are we going to do?”

  Her face was grim. “Evacuate.”

  Evacuations only took place under extreme circumstances. Though the Kin population in the Cities was relatively small—only a few hundred people—it was no minor thing to ask them to pack up and leave their homes and their jobs for an indeterminate amount of time. Some of them might refuse. And it wasn’t a command so much as a strongly worded suggestion.

  Mom told me she expected most of the Kin to take this suggestion.

  Her reasoning in ordering the evacuation was twofold, she said: to protect the Kin, and to minimize the number of targets. “If it wants the Kin, it will have to go after the Guardians,” she said. “And we’ll be ready. We’re preparing to counter if it launches an attack.”

  The details of the evacuation would be left up to the individuals. They could decide where they would go, and when they would leave—though soon to immediately would be best. They would be asked to check in with the Guardians once they’d relocated, and to give contact information where they could be reached. If they wished, accommodations would be made for them at one of the other Circles.

  The Guardians would remain. They would handle the situation. They would let the Kin know when it was safe to return.

  If it was safe to return.

  Esther would have to stay behind until it was safe for her to leave the hospital, Mom said. Charles would remain with her and Elspeth.

  I listened in silen
ce, imagining word being spread: phone calls and meetings, somber voices that uttered warnings and directions, the chill of fear that followed. By evening, most of the Kin would know. Decisions would need to be made, bags packed. Planning would go well into the night. Then, slowly, windows in Kin neighborhoods would go dark. Parents would gather their children, slip out to their cars and minivans in the hushed predawn light. Houses would stand empty. Mail would pile up.

  Some had left already, Mom said. When the killings first began, a few members of the Kin who weren’t tied to jobs or houses had decided to take extended vacations. A few would stay. For others, leaving simply wasn’t a possibility. That was why it didn’t happen often.

  There had been only one other evacuation in living memory.

  I knew it without asking. The Harrowing begun by Verrick seventeen years ago.

  Finally, sitting with my hands curled on my knees, I said, “What about me?”

  “I’m sending you away from the Circle,” Mom answered.

  I’d been anticipating that, and preparing my argument, however useless it might be. But first I asked: “And Leon?”

  “He’s a Guardian, but he’s your Guardian. He goes with you.”

  I nodded. Leon had left earlier, and Mom and I were alone in the waiting room. “Is that your decision or his?” I asked.

  “It’s the way it works. I need you not to argue with me on this.”

  “I’m not a liability anymore,” I said. “I’m an asset. I’m not weak, even if I’m not a Guardian. I can amplify. Leon and I can help fight. I want to help fight.” And as long as I was in the Cities, there was still a chance I’d find a way to help Gideon. To stop him without killing him.

  “You were never a liability, honey. And I’ve never thought you were weak. But you are my daughter. I need to know that you’re safe. That’s what I’m fighting for. That’s what’s most important to me. Not the Kin. Not myself. You.”

  A lump formed in my throat, and my eyes were moist, but I had to keep trying. “I’m needed here. You can’t send me away.”

  “Audrey—”

  “You can’t. Iris told me the reason the Beneath is awake is because of Gideon. He’s connected to the Astral Circle, the same way I am. She said I have to find a way to sever the connection.”

  “Iris can’t be trusted,” Mom said. “You know that better than anyone.”

  “She told the truth about the Beneath, though. And Daniel said the same thing earlier. He said I’m the one that causes Val’s vision. Not Brooke.”

  Mom sighed. “I know you want to help, but you can’t take this all on your shoulders. The best thing you can do is get out of the Cities and stay safe. Okay?”

  “Where are we even supposed to go?”

  “To the cabin, for now.” Her voice was firm, and the look she gave me told me she would probably tie me up in the trunk if I didn’t agree. “Stop by the house and pack a bag, but do it quickly. I’ll call you as often as I can.”

  Our family cabin was in the outskirts of Nevis, a small town some three hours north of the Cities. We’d gone there often when I was little, usually just Gram and me, though sometimes we brought Gideon. Mom had considered selling it or renting it out, since we didn’t use it often, but she’d never gotten around to it.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  “I’ll stay at the house, or with Mickey.”

  “I meant about Shane. The Beneath.”

  “I’ll figure out something.”

  “But if Iris is right—”

  “I’m not risking the welfare of my daughter on the claims of a girl who has previously placed the entire Kin in jeopardy. You’re not staying.”

  I tried arguing further, but she wouldn’t hear it. She set a hand on my shoulder, then rose from her seat, telling me she had to make a few more phone calls. Leon arrived shortly after. He had Mom’s car out in the parking lot—Mom thought it better we drive instead of teleporting, since we’d need to take supplies—and when I tried to ask if he was happy about getting kicked out of the Cities, he didn’t answer me. He just told me to let him know when I was ready to leave.

  Furious and frustrated though I was, I didn’t have much of an option unless I wanted to sneak out of the hospital and hide out somewhere, like Iris. Maybe I could crash her hotel room, I thought, clenching fists. But Leon would still know how to find me. And he was certain to do as Mom wished. I heaved a breath and finally just resigned myself to the fact that I had no choice in this.

  Then there were good-byes: Elspeth’s quick hug, my grandfather’s wobbly smile. I called Tink but got no answer. Esther was still unconscious, but I sat beside her in her room for a minute, took her hand, and squeezed it gently.

  “Thanks for looking out for me,” I whispered.

  I found Mom waiting for me out in the hall. This time I didn’t argue. I told myself not to snap at her. Not to part angry. I scrutinized her, taking in details, trying to silence the little voice that told me I should remember exactly what she looked like, exactly what she said, in case I never saw her again. Her hair was pulled out of her face in a messy ponytail, and her eyes looked tired, somewhat watery. She was trying to smile at me, but not succeeding. She touched my arm.

  “I guess Esther is getting what she wanted,” I said. “You leading the Kin.”

  “I’ll be happy to hand the reins right back.”

  “Remember to eat on occasion.”

  “I’ll stick a note to the fridge.”

  “And don’t get hurt.”

  She pulled me in to a tight hug. “I’ll be fine. I love you. I’ll call you tonight.”

  She walked with Leon and me to the elevator, then turned back at the end of the hall. I watched her there as the doors closed, walking down the hall beneath the hospital’s fluorescent lights, the area around her shrinking and shrinking until finally she was gone.

  We left the Cities as afternoon slipped into evening. We’d stopped by my house for me to pack a bag, but since my luggage was at Esther’s, I just grabbed my old camping backpack and threw whatever was left in my drawers into it. I hesitated in the doorway of my bedroom. Mom had stapled a plastic covering over my broken window, and cleaned up most of the glass, but I saw a few shards still glittering within the fibers of the carpet. A smear of dried blood from Gideon’s knuckles marked the floor near the back wall. My eyes fixed there, seeing him huddled there in the dark, dripping rain.

  “We should get going,” Leon said from behind me. I nodded, following him back down the steps. He had his own backpack tossed in the backseat of the car. It was the same backpack he’d brought with him from Two Harbors, somewhat worn now, one of the straps broken and hanging loose.

  I turned back toward the skyline as we headed out onto the highway. Above, in the thickening dark, the stars were glowing red.

  Tink finally returned my call an hour later to let me know she was still in the Cities.

  “You’re not leaving?” I asked. “Mom said she told you to evacuate.” It would be safer, Mom had explained, since Tink wasn’t fully trained yet—though I suspected Mom just wanted her protected, too.

  “She left it up to me to decide,” Tink said.

  “You can crash with us at the cabin, if you want.”

  “No. I—I’ve thought about it. And I’m staying. If we’re all about to die, might as well go down fighting, right? So if this is the last time I ever talk to you—”

  “Do not say that. Whatever grim confession you’re about to impart can wait until I get back.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say. It wasn’t grim. I was just going to say thanks. You know, for helping me with the whole Guardian thing.”

  “Oh. Well, you can save that, too.” I hesitated. “If you see Gideon…”

  “I’ll kick his ass and knock some sense into him,” she said quickly. She didn’t believe it, I guessed. Neither did I. But there wasn’t much else to say.

  “Good,” I whispered.

 
“I’ll check in later.”

  “You’d better.”

  It was close to midnight when Leon and I reached Nevis. The cabin had been closed up since last fall, and when we stepped inside, everything smelled like dust and mildew. The quilt I’d left on the bed had a collection of dead bugs in it, and a toad had taken up residence under the bathroom sink. Leon propped the door open to let in fresh air—and even more insects—while I moped about searching in crevices and under furniture for any other trespassers.

  “How long are we supposed to stay here?” I asked. Mom hadn’t told me anything besides for now; I hoped she’d given Leon clearer instructions. I shook the quilt free of insects and settled myself on the bed with my bag. I’d been too agitated to pay attention to my packing, and now I discovered I had three pairs of underwear and maybe one bra, and the only shorts I’d brought were the ones I was wearing.

  “I don’t know,” Leon said.

  “So, indefinitely?”

  “Until the danger passes. Look, I don’t like this any more than you do.”

  “And what if the danger doesn’t pass? Are we just supposed to live here?”

  His gaze slid from mine.

  I sat up straight, letting my bag fall to the floor. “Mom told you something.”

  “No. It’s a contingency plan the Kin have always had in place. If one Circle is compromised, the survivors take refuge at another.”

  “Has that ever happened before?”

  “Not that there are any records of. My grandfather told me he thought it might have come about because of the attacks that occurred before the Kin were organized. The first Harrowings.”

  I nodded. Esther had mentioned that to me, briefly—how the Kin had been scattered once, roaming the earth instead of staying close to the Circles. Without Guardians watching to contain the Harrowers that had broken free from Beneath, the Kin had been easy prey.

  But if our Circle was compromised, if the Beneath broke through, it wouldn’t stop there. I knew that much. It would target the next Circle, and the next. Until there was no refuge. Until Harrowers could slip through anywhere, everywhere, hunt down the Kin to the far edges of the earth.