Dawn of Dae

by R. J. Blain

She was so normal I wondered if she was like me, trying to figure out how to survive in a world turned upside down, where science made way for magic, and no one was quite what they appeared to be—except for me.

  The standard list of questions spared me from acting too much like an imbecile, although I stammered when I asked for her name.

  “Claudia Hampshire,” she stated, and her voice crackled as though flames burned within her, ready to burst out of her mouth at any moment.

  I’d already been singed once by an overenthusiastic fire-breathing werewolf with no ability to control himself. I sighed, hoping the table between us would provide enough distance to keep me from being scorched. I asked for her other details, and when finished, I braced for the inevitable demonstration.

  “If you’re a fire-breather, please limit how much damage you do. Skill and finesse are desired in addition to strength,” I said, wondering whether or not I should close the laptop and move it somewhere safe—preferably on the other side of the campus. While I was mostly telling the truth, it was more for my benefit than the college’s. I didn’t want to get burned again.

  “I’m a fire-breather,” she confirmed, smiling at me. “Most people don’t notice. How curious.”

  I didn’t tell her I had already met a wide assortment of creatures capable of breathing fire. Most of them smelled like smoke or had their fire in their eyes, but if she couldn’t hear the crackle-pop of burning wood in her voice, I wasn’t going to enlighten her.

  I’d let someone who could withstand her potential temper tantrum inform her she wasn’t all that difficult to identify.

  Those close enough to hear our conversation backed away, and I didn’t blame them. I wanted to take shelter, too, but I wasn’t in a position to go run and hide, unlike them.

  “What is your demonstration going to be?” I asked, careful to keep my tone even. Sounding bored was a good way to provoke people, and Claudia was no different. Her eyes blazed from blue to orange.

  “I will control fire,” she replied, and with an offended sniff, she held out her hand.

  Most of those I had seen breathed fire out of their mouths. I hadn’t quite figured out how it worked, but most of the dae who could do it had glands in their throats or mouths, and they spit some substance that ignited with contact with the air. I hadn’t figured out how they did it without burning themselves, but I guessed magic played a role somehow.

  Claudia’s attention focused on her open palm. Beads of sweat formed, and with a hiss, combusted. Fire danced over her skin. My eyes widened as it crawled up her arm, burning over her clothes without consuming them.

  Most just spit flames, and the really dangerous ones had the equivalent of napalm gushing out of their mouths. Those few I had sent to the dean, figuring they were too much of a risk to send back onto the streets in disappointment. Dae who functioned as cigarette lighters didn’t exactly frighten me—or anyone else, for that matter.

  Claudia, however, was in a class entirely her own, and the line of waiting dae recoiled from her as she stood, enveloped in flames of her own making. One figure didn’t budge, not even an inch, and his stillness drew my eye away from Claudia’s demonstration.

  I should have known Rob would show up. At least he wasn’t Kenneth, who would have tried to interfere again. I didn’t know what the dae’s game was, but the sight of him made my blood boil. Like the others, his attention was focused on Claudia. Why was he among those seeking elevation? He looked—and acted—the part of the elite already.

  The subtle widening of his eyes warned me something was wrong, and I jerked my attention back to Claudia in time to watch her burst into a pillar of flame. Heat washed over me, and over the crackling roar of the fire, someone screamed.

  Eight

  I do not like when my property is damaged.

  Paper had a relatively low ignition point, and Kenneth’s list of names reached it in the time it took me to slap my hand on the laptop’s lid, slam it closed, and snatch the device up in order to save it. I fell off my chair, twisted around, and rolled, cradling the machine and its precious information before coming to a halt on one knee. I tensed and turned towards Claudia.

  Claudia burned, and dancing in the heart of her flames, she laughed. The fire swirled in a vortex around her.

  From my crouch, I got a good look at her legs; her clothes had, for the most part, remained intact, but her shoes smoked, and black streaks leeched into the blue-white fires surrounding her body and darkened the yellow and orange of the twister stretching upward.

  Claudia’s sneakers melted, revealing her pale skin beneath. Gray streaks appeared on the tops of her feet, and over the roar of the fire, there was a faint crackle.

  The gray darkened to charcoal, and a webbing of lines shot up her legs. Lost in her jubilation, the woman didn’t notice the way her skin cracked. Instead of flesh, bone, and blood, molten stone flowed beneath her skin, and beginning with her feet, it oozed out to immolate anything it touched.

  Swaying to some rhythm only she heard, Claudia danced, and her conflagration burned all the brighter, its heat tightening my skin.

  “You might want to move,” Rob announced.

  Enthralled with the way Claudia burned, I hadn’t noticed his approach, let alone him standing over me. Part of me agreed with him; the heat hurt, but I couldn’t force myself to rise.

  If I even blinked, the moment would end, and Claudia’s joy and passion radiated from her and her fire.

  Rob grabbed hold of my elbow, pulled me to my feet, and hauled me away. “You really don’t want to be too close.”

  My body moved of its own volition, my gaze fixed on Claudia.

  In the heart of her fire, she had turned black with cracks of blue-white, perfect flames spilling out of her. She no longer laughed. A gust of wind, cold on my agitated skin, drew a hiss out of me. My face ached the worst, having been caught in the full brunt of her display without any protection from my clothes.

  “Miss Daegberht,” Rob snapped, giving my arm a shake. I flinched as his grip tightened on me. “I do not like when my property is damaged.”

  His words cut through the fog in my head, and my irritation burned hotter than the dae. I turned on him, jerking my arm in an effort to free myself from his grasp. He sidestepped, putting himself between me and Claudia, and when I could no longer see her, I trembled. I scrambled away from Rob, and he pursued me several steps without releasing my arm.

  “That should be far enough.”

  He let me go and stood aside. I clutched my aching arm to my chest. I hurt, but it was the pain of a sunburn, not the itching sear of an allergic reaction. I’d worry about what Rob’s touch did—and didn’t—do to me once I finished my job, which was to grade Claudia.

  So far, she was by far the strongest fire-breather I’d ever seen, and she frightened the hell out of me. I held my breath, afraid the heated air would scorch my lungs, if it hadn’t already.

  Watching bonfires was common in the winter in the fringe, and like a disintegrating log in the flame’s heart, Claudia’s inferno consumed her. The crack-pop of wood heralded her crumbling to embers, which the winds captured and carried upward. She spiraled to the sky, and as she cooled, she drifted to the ground in a pale ash.

  With nothing left to burn, the pure flames snuffed out, leaving behind wafting smoke in its wake and blackened ground where a woman had stood.

  My breath caught in my throat. Little remained of Claudia. The gathered dae stared at where she had burned. I shook my head, turning my attention to my desk.

  It was as charred as the ground she had stood on, and in a circle twenty feet across, the grass had likewise turned gray and smoked.

  Rob sighed and shook his head. “Really. Can’t you take care of yourself for even a few minutes?”

  Securing my hold on the laptop with one hand, I balled the other in a fist, and threw a punch at the smug dae’s face. He caught my hand in his, and laughing at me, he worked his fingers between mine, squeezing until I mad
e a pained noise and my fingers splayed.

  I had no idea how he did it, but he stole my glove. Stepping out of my reach, he spun around and waved my glove at me in farewell, striding off in the direction of the administration buildings. I glared at his departing back, torn between chasing after him and giving him a piece of my mind and getting as far away from him as possible. Shuddering, I spun around, staring at the destruction and wondering how I was going to explain what had happened.

  A woman had died trying to prove she was worthy of becoming an elite, and if it hadn’t been for Rob, I’d have a lot more than a few singes and overheated skin to show for witnessing her fiery demise.

  Word of Claudia’s death spread fast, but I was too busy scrambling to prepare for the resumption of interviews to listen to the muttered gossip. The laptop had been spared—mostly—from the heat of her flames. The casing had melted, but one of the college’s techies managed to salvage all of the data and gave me a new system in less than half an hour, which was how long it took the police to calm everyone down.

  While I waited for the police to organize the next batch of hopefuls to try to squeeze out a few more runs before curfew, I inventoried my injuries.

  I had gotten lucky; I had a few new burns to add to my growing collection, but I had otherwise emerged reasonably unscathed. At least I didn’t have to pay for the treatment or the ointments to heal them without scarring.

  Where Rob had touched my elbow, his sweat had soaked through my shirt. Unlike the rest of my arm, which was reddened from exposure to the heat, the skin he had touched remained unblemished. I glanced around, but I saw no sign of the dae. The thought of him boiled my blood.

  I’d have to ask Colby if it knew about Rob, how to make the menace of a man leave me alone, and if my casserole could scare him off. My peace of mind would appreciate not having to worry about Rob for a while.

  Despite my irritation with him, I spent a long time staring at my elbow, wondering what was going on and why the dae, who had invaded my apartment and kept showing up at the absolute worst time, didn’t make me break out in rashes or hives when he touched me.

  Narrowing my eyes, I considered whether or not I could capture him, study him, and find a cure for my affliction.

  No, such thoughts were terrible for my peace of mind.

  But, if he was going to be underfoot and in my way, at least he could be useful.

  I grimaced at the fire-scorched ground, which reminded me that no matter how much Rob annoyed me, he had prevented me from sharing Claudia’s fate. I’d choke on it, but the next time I saw him, I’d thank him—and make certain he was fully aware I was not his property and would never be his property.

  I had survived living in the fringe without completely selling myself, and I had no intentions of changing that now. Maybe Kenneth had enough blackmail material on me to force me to help him, maybe he interfered too much with my goals, but I fully intended to break free of his hold on me, even if I had to put a bullet in his head to accomplish that goal.

  The bastard deserved it.

  So far, he hadn’t asked me to do something I wasn’t willing to do. Until that day came, he’d probably keep toying with me, seeing how far he could push me for the fun of it. When he found out his precious list had burned with Claudia, he was going to be annoyed.

  Why did all of the men in my life have to be so damned insufferable? Was it really too much to ask to meet someone nice for a change? It didn’t help I couldn’t touch anyone. Every time I was interested in someone, reality hit hard.

  How could I explain I was so defective I couldn’t actually tolerate touching them? I came across as standoffish and distant, and would-be friends slid away to cautious acquaintances.

  Kelsie was as close as I got to having a friend. I worried about her, and assuming I made it through the day intact, I’d try to find time to visit her again and make certain she was doing okay. I’d have to be careful to avoid Rob, however.

  He kept showing up when I didn’t expect him.

  Rob would be a problem; elite didn’t become friends with people like me. At least he was honest enough in his view. To him, I really was nothing more than property.

  By the time the police ushered in the next wave of hopefuls, my mood bottomed out. In a numb daze, I dutifully recorded information and sent disappointed dae on their way.

  Likely frightened by Claudia’s fate, the first two batches didn’t have a single fire-breather. Shifters once again proved common, with werewolves topping the list. Cats came a close second, and I had a feeling there would be a lot of half-breeds running around in short order if the posturing in line was an indication. I did my best to ignore the too-obvious flirting going on.

  It wasn’t their fault I couldn’t play their game.

  The sun was dangerously low to the horizon when the police halted the stream of dae. Relieved I hadn’t had to condemn anyone else to the elite, I packed up the laptop, and bracing for the worst, I marched to the dean’s office.

  The main administration building was all but deserted. I tapped on the dean’s door and was relieved when the man answered. I let myself in, fixed my stare on the floor, and approached his desk.

  “Set it there,” the dean ordered, and I glanced up in time to watch him gesture at the edge of his desk. “I heard there was some excitement.”

  I set the replacement laptop on his desk, clasped my hands behind my back, and took several deep breaths so I could keep my voice even, quiet, and appropriately respectful. If I made a bad impression on the dean now, I’d really be in a lot of trouble. He had the power to eject me from the college without a chance for repeal. “Yes, sir. Fire-breathers seem to have some difficulty controlling their abilities.”

  What did the dae call their powers? My ignorance once again bothered me, and the only helpful dae I knew specialized in cleaning floors and cabinetry. Colby’s limited vocabulary didn’t help matters any, either.

  The dean laughed. “Abilities. How politically correct. Still, it’s as good a term as any. It’ll do. Yes, fire-breathers do have rather volatile skills, don’t they? I was told of the one death. Were there any other incidents?”

  “Minor ones, sir,” I replied.

  “Define minor.”

  “A singe here and there. Overenthusiastic fire-breathers lack control.”

  “I noticed you only sent those with controlled skills over. Was there a reason for this?”

  I hadn’t just sent those with controlled skills, but correcting the dean wouldn’t do me any good. I took a moment to consider how best to explain my decisions on who to send to him. “Yes, sir. I made the assumption that those who would be elevated to elite status would need to possess immediate, usable abilities. Fire-breathers who can’t control their skills, sir, are more of a danger to those around them than an advantage on any sort of team, especially within military and police forces. Without a full disclosure on the types of skills possessed by the dae, it was a best-guess situation, sir.”

  The dean drummed his fingers against his desk. “Interesting. Were military and police use your primary motivation?”

  “Until we have a better idea of the rarity of certain dae skills, sir, it’s very difficult to determine what is—or isn’t—a useful ability.” I wanted to grab the laptop and smash it over the dean’s head, but I forced myself to stay still. Getting annoyed with his questions wouldn’t help me. There was a decent enough chance he wasn’t even criticizing me, although I couldn’t tell for sure.

  “How do you plan on determining the usefulness of abilities?”

  The dean’s question was a trap; if I answered just right, I’d emerge unscathed—probably. If I didn’t, I’d sour my chances of being able to work with him and keep him happy. Sucking up to the elite sometimes paid off, but as often as not, they didn’t want the peons and minions wasting their time.

  Instead of answering immediately, I considered the question. The rushed answer was to analyze the data I had gathered today, isolating the mos
t common abilities, and removing them from the equation. However, the rules had all changed. Before the dae had shown up, protestors had made a lot of noise without being much of an actual threat. With a sudden surge of people who could light things on fire by breathing on them, any protest could turn into a lethal one.

  Abilities capable of preventing destruction or loss of life seemed a lot more useful to me than human torches.

  Saying so without insulting the dean would be the challenging part. “With the high number of fire-breathers, sir, useful abilities would include those capable of countering flame. Strong fire-breathers have their uses in military and police roles, but considering how dangerous they can be, they can cause more harm than good. Those capable of limiting the damage caused by more dangerous dae should prove more useful in the long term. Those with uncontrolled abilities run the risk of killing themselves, as we’ve seen today. I made my selections based on how they might be able to help now while still remaining useful in the future.”

  Talking so casually about someone’s death left a sour taste in my mouth, but I couldn’t do anything to change what had happened. Claudia had made a choice to show off. It wasn’t my fault she had burned.

  The guilt I would carry involved those I had sent to the dean. Maybe they’d become elite, but I had my doubts on whether their elevation would be a good thing—for them. They’d be tools of the government, and they went hoping for a better future for themselves.

  If I had a dae, I’d probably be just like them, too. But I didn’t. They’d be elite, but at what cost? What would they have to do to earn their place in the uppermost caste?

  “You’re smart, Miss Daegberht. I like that. Since you seem to have a reasonable grasp of what we are looking for, take the laptop with you. I will have some files sent to you through your student account. Turn them into something useful for the interviews tomorrow. I’m expecting good things from you. Dismissed.”