by H. D. Gordon
Somewhere in the distance, people were screaming. They wanted a hero. They wanted the Masked Maiden to swoop in and save the day. Their cries were likewise cloaked in shadows, their faces lost in the smoke.
I was no hero. I never had been.
Leaping from the bell tower, I spread my arms like the wings of an eagle, my special cape catching on the wind and gliding me down into the gloom. My feet touched the ground and my senses stayed on high alert.
Standing on the concrete in the middle of the chaos was suffocating, the calls for help too many, coming from every direction. I was the reason they were in this mess. I was the one he wanted, and he would go through all of them to get to me.
I’d failed him, the same way I had failed them all. I’d given a false hope only to snatch it away, and now we would all pay for it.
I’ve come to the conclusion that superhero is just another word for fool, at least in my case.
If I could go back nine months to the time when I’d had the choice between returning to life with the Peace Brokers and staying in this forsaken city, I likely would’ve chosen differently, despite a piece of my heart residing here, now and forever.
Sometimes the most heroic thing to do is walk away. And sometimes this is harder than staying and digging in for a fight.
That option was gone now. Lives were in danger and no matter what perspective it was viewed from, I had helped put them there.
In the distance, lightning cut across the sky, brightening the world fantastically for a couple heartbeats, stealing away my breath.
This lightning, I knew, had not come from the heavens, but rather from the deal he’d made to harness the energy.
Energy he felt he needed to punish me. Because to him, I was the villain.
The atmosphere lit up again. And again. In this way, he summoned me.
I adjusted my hood, gripped my staff, and headed toward the source of the electric light. It was time for the hero to face the monster.
I was just no longer sure which of us was which.
CHAPTER 1
I knew she was going to drop the tray even before she did. I saw it in the way she moved. Her balance was off, her muscles too unformed to compensate. If I hadn’t moved, the coffee atop the tray would’ve scalded both her and the old ladies she was supposed to be serving it to.
Since I’m such a hero, I opted for stepping in. The tray tipped, the clink of the shifting mugs and utensils lost in the cacophony of sounds that was the restaurant. Moving like a ninja, I swooped in beside Marla and placed one hand on her aproned hip to steady her while slipping the other hand under the side of the tray that was on the decline.
Marla Greene, her bright red hair a wispy cloud atop her head and her eyes as wide as saucers, let out a relieved sigh. She smiled sheepishly as I moved out of her personal space once I was sure she wouldn’t tip again.
“You’ve got the reflexes of a cat, Aria,” Marla breathed. “I’m pretty sure I’d have been fired weeks ago if you weren’t always catching me before I hit the ground.”
With deft movements, I removed the plates and drinks atop the tray and placed them in front of the ladies who’d ordered them. Then I scooted back toward my own section and customers, tipping Marla a wink.
I’d been working at the Bay Bar for the past month and a half, since I’d graduated from Grant City High School, and what I liked most about it was the fast money. Serving drinks and bar food to the people of Grant City made me triple the amount that arranging flowers at Roses had earned me, even if the work was decidedly less enjoyable.
Also, I was good at it. Work at the Bay Bar was fast-paced and required a good amount of physical movement. On top of that, it felt good not to be dirt-poor anymore. For the first time since I’d left the Peace Brokers, I felt I had some small degree of financial security. It was a wonder what that could do for one’s mood. It was one of the many things that had changed in the past month.
One of my tables put their credit card in the black slip with the check, and I scooted over to them and swooped it up, telling them I’d be right back. Then I went over to the computer where I could ring them up, taping on the little screen with fast fingers that reminded me of Samantha Shy, my best friend.
As if the thought had summoned her, the phone in my apron buzzed and I looked down to see a message from Sam.
Tonight we celebrate you being accepted to Grant City Community College. No arguments.
I sighed and slipped the phone back into my pocket. Only Sam would insist celebrating my enrollment in community college, which even with its lowered prices, would be tough to afford.
Tyler, one of the other servers, sidled up to the computer beside mine and began inputting his table’s order. His brown eyes flicked over to me. “Got any plans tonight, beautiful?” he asked.
This was typical. Tyler Adams had been asking me out since my first day at the Bay Bar. He was an attractive guy with good hair and pretty teeth, but for whatever reason, he failed to charm me. It wasn’t that I thought he was a bad person. It was more that he struck me as the kind of guy who charmed every woman. It was almost as if he was too good looking.
“Actually, I do,” I said. “I’m going to the graveyard to raise the dead. There’s a blue moon tonight, so it’s perfect for dead-raising.”
This earned a chuckle from him. Every time he asked this question, I gave him an equally absurd answer. It had become a sort of game with us.
Tyler opened his mouth to respond, but paused when the lights in the restaurant flickered out, the computer screens on which we were tapping going blank. An eerie silence fell, the absence of a hum that was so familiar it often went unnoticed, until it disappeared. We exchanged confused looks, and Tyler tapped at the blank screen again, cursing under his breath about how he hoped it hadn’t lost the order he had just put in.
Before much else could be said, the lights buzzed back on, the computer screens glowing to life once more, a somersaulting hourglass appearing as the systems rebooted.
“What was that?” I asked, pecking uselessly at the screen with my fingers. “Has that ever happened before?”
Tyler shrugged. “Just a little glitch in the grid, I guess. Kinda weird how it got all quiet, huh?”
I nodded, my brow furrowed slightly. The rest of the people in the restaurant had continued on in their motions.
Tyler grinned. “Don’t be afraid, darling,” he said. “If the power goes out again,” he swept a hand through his hair, “I’ll totally protect you.”
I clutched at my heart, blinking my eyes rapidly. “My hero,” I said. “I feel so safe now.”
He snapped his fingers and pointed the fore at me like a gun, still grinning. “I have that effect on ladies.” He sauntered away clearly pleased with himself, and I couldn’t help a little laugh.
By the time my shift was over, I’d forgotten all about the momentary loss of power. With an amount of hope in my heart that I wouldn’t have thought possible half a year ago, I headed out into the hot summer night, going to meet my friends for celebration.
***
Matt threw his hands up into the air, eyeing the stuffed giraffe I’d just won, and he’d just lost. “That’s really not fair,” Matt complained. “You’ve got superhuman abilities. Of course you won.”
Sam and I looked at each other and burst into laughter. Matthew Brown was such a passive guy that his annoyance always amused us. His curly brown hair swayed slightly in the salty breeze coming off the water, his Superman t-shirt a bit damp with sweat.
“You can have it, Matt,” I said, holding the stuffed giraffe out to him. “Here, buddy, I won it for you. I can’t carry anymore anyway.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “I don’t want your pity giraffe,” he said. “I just hope you feel good about beating a lowly muggle.”
I hugged the stuffed animal tight—along with the three others I’d won, grinning. “Yes. Yes, I do. I feel just great about it.”
Laughing, we wandered away from the bo
oth where I’d earned the giraffe by squirting water from a little gun and filling up the connected tube first. Spotting the bumper cars, Sam’s eyes lit up and she raced over to where the line was forming, waving orange tickets in her hands.
“Bumper cars next!” she said. “They’re my favorite.” She jumped into line without waiting to see if Matt and I would follow.
“They’ve been her favorite since she was six,” Matt told me in a low voice. “Her mother brought us to this pier to celebrate Sam’s birthday that year, and she’s loved the bumper cars ever since.”
I watched the sparkle that came into Matt’s eyes when he spoke of Sam. I gave him a little nudge. “You should tell her,” I whispered.
He looked at me with his brows drawn down. “Tell her what?”
I rolled my eyes. “That you’re totally in love with her.”
Matt scoffed, his cheeks going red beneath his mocha skin. “What? Don’t be silly. I’m not—I don’t… Who told you that? Did Sam say something?”
I laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. Your secret’s safe with me… but I still think you should tell her.”
That was the end of that little chat as we joined Sam in the bumper car line. Around us, the Iron Pier was lit up with the blinking lights of the amusement rides, the smell of cotton candy and funnel cake filling the warm night air. The pier was bustling with people, as it was a Saturday evening in the heart of summer, when the little places that dotted the New Jersey shoreline were flooded with summer people looking for a good time.
“We’re almost out of tickets,” Sam said, waving them around. “After the bumper cars we’ll probably have enough for one more ride, and since we’re celebrating the furthering of Aria’s education, why don’t you choose, bestie?”
I smiled so big it was a wonder my face didn’t split. I’d been reluctant to come out tonight, forcing Sam to put off the jubilations for weeks now because I was always tired after work and didn’t particularly enjoy being in crowds of people, but now that I was here, I was enjoying myself.
It struck me in that moment that this was what I’d always wanted, the type of life I’d never thought I’d get to have. That life took place in these small moments, like when a stranger who’s become a real friend—an almost-family member—tells you to pick the last amusement ride.
Glancing around, biting my lip and rotating on my heels, I surveyed the options. My eyes set quickly on the Ferris Wheel, an attraction I’d spied many times while atop the buildings of Grant City, but had never been on in all my life. There weren’t exactly ‘fair days’ with the Peace Brokers—no cotton candy or ride tickets in my history.
I pointed at the rotating wheel lighting up the night sky, grinning as seagulls swooped around it. “That one,” I said. “I want to ride that one.”
Matt groaned as we were ushered into our respective bumper cars. “That Ferris Wheel goes really high,” he mumbled.
Sam gave a sympathetic half-smile. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Matt,” she said.
Matt puffed out the Superman symbol on his chest just a bit, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t say I was afraid,” he said as he climbed into his bumper car and buckled the seat belt. “I’ll go.”
Conversation ceased as our cars came to life and we bumped them into each other’s with neck-jerking glee. After that, we headed over to the Ferris Wheel, standing at the base of the tall structure and staring up at its swaying red and yellow carts.
“We don’t have to go up,” I told Matt, hiding any disappointment I had. I understood being afraid, and I didn’t like to force that feeling on anyone.
Matt shook his head, insisting that it would be fine, and the three of us handed over our last tickets and were ushered inside a red cart. The gate to the cart was closed, and the wheel lurched as it began its slow ascent.
Below us, the wooden planks of the Iron Pier dropped away lazily, the endless crashing waves of the Atlantic Ocean surrounding us on either side, dark as an abyss under the moonlight. The lights of Grant City fanned out behind Sam, who sat on the opposite side of the cart beside Matt, her blue eyes bright behind the thick frames of her glasses.
“You can see the whole city up here,” Sam said, a certain whimsy filling her tone. She looked at me. “I guess you’ve probably been to some awesome vantage points.”
I nodded, breathing deeply and taking in the moment. It struck me that I felt happy and content. “I have,” I agreed. “But every time I get a new view it’s as awesome as the first. When you’re this high up, it’s no wonder you fall in love with the place.”
Our cart was reaching the top of the wheel now, and it lurched to a stop again to allow more passengers on at the bottom. The ocean breeze and subtle shifts on our part had the cart rocking… and Matt’s eyes growing big.
“Quit moving, you guys,” he said, gripping the railing for dear life.
Sam and I couldn’t help but laugh at him, though we did try to keep still.
When the cart finally made it to the tip-top of the wheel, and lurched to a stop once again, Matt squeezed his eyes shut while Sam and I took in the lights of Grant City along with the endless crashing drone of the ocean.
“Matt, you gotta open your eyes and see—” Sam began, but didn’t finish.
I barely heard her. I was too busy staring at the same thing that had likely snatched her attention. We gawked silently into the night as every light in Grant City—including those lighting up the Ferris Wheel we were currently on—went black.
With this, we were cast into darkness, the ride having come to a dead stop in the same instant… along with all the other rides adorning the Iron Pier.
The same eerie silence that had come over the restaurant earlier that evening fell over the shoreline, like a gap in space and time. A salty breeze blew over the skin of my arms and neck, but it was not the reason goosebumps had risen there.
“Oh, God,” Matt said, and I looked at him to see his brown eyes not only open, but open wide. “We’re stuck up here, aren’t we?”
“The whole city is dark,” Sam answered, her voice like an echo in a well. “And my phone has no service.” She looked at me. “That can’t be good.”
Before much else could be said, a surge of invisible energy seemed to ripple across the atmosphere, and as if a switch had been flipped, all the lights of Grant City began to blink to life. The Ferris Wheel did likewise, the cart giving a small jolt and continuing its rotation.
Sam, Matt, and I sat in silence, exchanging glances. This was the second time today the power had gone out, and it was clear all three of us doubted that this could be a coincidence.
CHAPTER 2
“Could just be some malfunction with the power grid,” Sam said.
I nodded but surely didn’t look convinced. “Could be.”
Sam shook her head, picking up on my unease. We had climbed off the Ferris Wheel with a highly relieved Matt and were crossing through the crowd on the pier. “This is supposed to be a celebration night,” Sam said. “So we’re not going to concern ourselves with possible evil-doers right now, okay? Let the GCPD earn their paychecks. Otherwise you’ll burn out.”
I gave a crooked grin, puffing out my chest. “Nonsense,” I scoffed. “I don’t get ‘burned out’.”
Sam rolled her eyes. Then her face lit up. “Laser tag!” she said, dragging Matt and me across the boardwalk where the various little shops and other attractions were located. “Let’s play laser tag! Oh, and it’s glow in the dark!”
Smirking, I placed a hand on my hip. “You do realize I’m a supernatural soldier, a ninja with superior speed, strength, and reflexes?” My eyes flicked between her and Matt. “I will annihilate you guys.”
“You know what I love most about you, Aria Fae?” Matt said, the smirk on his face telling me he accepted the challenge.
“What’s that, Matty, my boy?” I asked.
“You’re so darn humble.”
I no
dded earnestly. “Yes, well, humble is my middle name.”
“Is it?”
I raised a brow. “No. I don’t have a middle name.”
“Come on, you dorks,” Sam called from the entrance to the laser tag. “Game’s on me.”
Twenty minutes later we wandered out of the building and into the cool night air, the breeze coming off the ocean cooling our damp skin. The game had been more intense than I’d anticipated. The fact that the arena consisted of all black lights and glowed in the dark had made it even better.
Of course, I’d totally destroyed them, as had been expected. And so I strutted out onto the still bustling boardwalk with my hands fisted at my waist, my chest puffed out in a Supergirl pose.
“I’m the champion of all laser tag!” I proclaimed, earning laughs and head shakes from Matt and Sam. I thrust my fists in to the air. “Bow to the Champion of Laser Tag, peasants!”
“I hit you once,” Matt claimed. “I got you, but your suit didn’t light up.”
“Pfft,” I said. “Okay, Matt. I believe you. You ‘got’ me but my suit didn’t light up.”
“It’s true!” he exclaimed, and now all three of us laughed.
Sam led us over to an area with picnic tables where seagulls strutted and swooped, waiting for a scrap of food to be dropped. “Wait here,” she said. “And I’ll conclude the festivities in the only fashion that would make sense”
I rubbed my hands together, knowing that this probably meant with some kind of food. Matt and I claimed seats and Sam wandered down the boardwalk, her strawberry blond head recognizable from anywhere.
Matt sighed.
I gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’ll never know unless you tell her,” I said.
He opened his mouth as if to argue, maybe to claim he didn’t know what I was talking about, but then his shoulders slumped and he ran a hand over his face. “Is it that obvious?”
“I knew pretty early on,” I said. “But, remember, I can read auras.”
“It wasn’t always like this,” he admitted. “We’ve always just been best friends. Then last year… something changed. I… noticed her in a way I hadn’t before.” Matt stared off across the boardwalk. “And now I can’t seem to un-notice.”
