Smokeless Fire (Fire Spirits #1)

by Samantha Young

  With one last glance, I bid farewell to the stranger in the mirror and walked through the living room to see the lifeless body of the young woman with a large, bulging abdomen stretched awkwardly on the couch. Unaware it was a possibility, my revulsion for Marsala grew greater. “How could you? She was pregnant,” I disgustedly said.

  “Don’t be so quick to judge. She thought she was here to negotiate a price for her unborn bastard.” She offered me a glass filled with the blood of my gift. “Here! Drink it before it cools.”

  “Monster! Are there no bounds to the depravity of which you have so freely given your soul?” I asked, as I walked past her. I jerked the terrace curtains open, revealing the darkness of the eclipse and she stepped in front of me to place her palms on my chest.

  “Curry, things are going to be different after this; I’m going to give you something you have always wanted and it’s going to change everything. We will be happy, you’ll see.”

  “My hatred for you runs so deep it drowns in my very marrow and the only happiness I’ll ever know is when I am released from your hold.” I bit my tongue to withhold from saying more, not wanting to clue Marsala to my plan.

  She flashed her familiar, evil smile and said, “We shall see.” She cautiously stepped out into the darkness where she was shielded from the dangers of the sun. I followed her onto the terrace and took my place, propped against the wall with my arms crossed and waited for my beautiful end.

  She lifted her fair Creole face toward the moon covered sun with her eyes closed, concealing the pale peridots behind her lids. Two thick braids met just below the crown of her head and light brown curls hung close to her waist. She stood with her feet together and arms stretched wide, like the crucified, with her body motionless in anticipation of something I didn’t dare imagine.

  I waited against the wall while the eclipse passed quickly and she unsuccessfully shielded her disappointment, as she wore her crushed hope like a flashing neon sign. We exchanged no words as the end of the eclipse drew closer, and with a last desperate attempt, she ended her silence saying, “I conjure you, Hecate, because you are the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the moon, the night, ghosts, and necromancy. I ask you to wrap your arms of favor around me. I compel you, Hecate, to bequeath me a viable womb. I call upon Rhea, the titaness of female fertility, because you are mother to powerful gods and I implore you to grant me fertility and fruitfulness of my womb.”

  As she revealed her dark desire, I realized drinking the pregnant woman’s blood was no coincidence and I recognized her pathetic attempt to make me love her. “You can stop now, Marsala, because a child could never change the depth of my disdain for you. Are you really so far gone that you can’t see how bringing a child into this would be the worst form of evil?”

  She raised her voice and began to scream her challenge, “I petition you, Hera. You are the queen of marriage, women, childbirth, heirs, kings and empires and I command you to bestow my body with a supernatural pregnancy. These things I command of you! I demand it!”

  The sunlight slowly began to spill from behind the moon and death couldn’t claim me quickly enough. She didn’t want the eclipse to end and I took joy in her disappointment. With only seconds to spare, I gladly said the words she didn’t want to hear, “It’s over, we must go inside.”

  Strangely, I was at peace with my plan for an elective demise. I was uncertain what awaited me on the other side, or if there could be anything other than Hell for someone like me. In the unlikely event my lost soul had a place to rest peacefully, I took my last opportunity to repent and although I held my tongue, my heart couldn’t remain silent. “All this time, I can’t make right. I am hollow by what remains inside and I ask to be saved from the nothingness I have become. I ask that my misplaced heart no longer wanders, lost and wounded, and finds its way into the arms that love me. I beg the forgiveness of the ones I’ve wronged and of the One listening.”

  My last moments were interrupted by Marsala’s words, “The goddesses and titanesses have heard my demands and I feel something happening.” She placed her hands to her abdomen and looked up at me with wide eyes saying, “I know you’ll love me when I give you the child you have always wanted.”

  She was happy with herself, believing she had won the battle between us, her obsession victorious over my hate, and she would never understand that this had nothing to do with a child. I could never have feelings other than hatred for her because she had taken too much away from me by stealing my life, my happiness, my future, even the light of day.

  “Look, it’s a sign,” she said, as she pointed to my crossed arms.

  I lowered my head to see the source of her delight and saw a pair of brightly colored butterflies sitting upon my crossed arms, their bright wings growing redder as the sun began to peak around the moon. They softly and whimsically fanned their wings back and forth and I sensed she was right; something was happening. I felt a force of adrenalin coursing through me, along with a euphoria I’d never known, and was engulfed with inner strength as years of heaviness lifted from me. My invisible shackles were unlocked, tossed aside and the bondage holding me to her was dissolved.

  “No! No! No!” she screamed, as she fell to her knees. “What have you done?” she hissed at me. I backed away as she crawled toward me with her hand outreached. The exposure of the sun grew as the seconds ticked by and the time for my death arrived. I lowered my head to meet her eyes, one last time before the sun aided me in my eternal escape of her. I saw the burning pain on her face, along with something else in her narrowed eyes and I recognized her look of jealous fury; it could be mistaken for nothing else.

  She hissed, “I don’t know how you did it, but you’ll never have her. I will serve her heart to you on a platter and make you enjoy eating it.”

  She had completely lost her mind and I laughed before saying, “You are mad! You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

  “No! It’s you that doesn’t understand, you stupid fool! She has arrived, but listen well and never forget my words! You’ll never have her!” she screamed.

  I didn’t understand the mystery of her words, but I suspected she too felt the dissolution of our bond and realized my intentions. Fortunately, she didn’t have time to act and was forced inside by the sun’s rays before she could drag me inside with her.

  Seconds later, the sun was completely unobstructed by the moon and I was entirely exposed to the beaming rays. I felt the warmth on my face and waited for the burn that would end my existence. She frantically called for me from inside the suite, but I refused to answer, allowing her to believe I was incinerated; I would be soon enough. Luckily, her misplaced, distorted love for me would never be reason enough for her to risk her safety in place of mine.

  I waited in vain for the anticipated burn as I only felt the mercy of the sun, and didn’t understand why. I was afraid to move, yet afraid to remain still and I had no idea how much longer the sun would show me grace. I took a few steps, testing my boundaries like a child, and gave thanks for the arms of protection surrounding me, then made the decision to run. This was a gift and a blessing I didn’t yet understand, but one thing I knew for certain; now wasn’t the time to understand. It was the time to escape.

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  Georgia Cates

  An excerpt from

  Fairy Metal Thunder

  (Songs of Magic, Book 1)

  by J. L. Bryan

  from Chapter Four

  (Jason is a seventeen-year-old boy from the small town of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, currently stuck at home babysitting his six-year-old sister Katie and trying to write a song for the girl he likes, Erin. There has been a rash of mysterious jewelry thefts around town...)

  Saturday night, Jason sat at home in his living room, his guitar in his lap, trying to pick out the music for “Angel Sky,” the song he'd written f
or Erin. He was having trouble getting the music and lyrics to flow together.

  His mother had dragged his father to a collectible ceramics convention in Minneapolis, an hour away, and they still weren't back.

  “Jason?” Katie asked. His little sister stood in the doorway of the living room in her Bert and Ernie pajamas.

  “What is it, Katie?”

  “Um...” She fidgeted, looking nervous.

  “What's wrong? You should be sleeping.”

  “I know, but...there's a monster.”

  Jason sighed and put his guitar down. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  “It's not a dream! I saw it go into Mom and Dad's room.”

  “If it's not in your room, you don't have anything to worry about.”

  “But I could be next!” Katie looked terrified.

  “You're completely safe, Katie. There's no monster.”

  “Is too!”

  “Okay.” Jason stood up and stretched. “Let's go check it out. I’ll show you there's nothing to be scared of.”

  “Thanks, Jason.” She took his hand as he walked toward the steps, something she hadn't done in a couple of years. She really was frightened.

  They walked upstairs and to the end of the short hall in their split-level house. Katie stayed back, clinging to the frame of her bedroom door, while Jason approached the master bedroom.

  “See, Katie?” he said. “Mom and Dad’s door is still closed. How could a monster get into their room?”

  “He just went puff,” Katie said.

  “He went puff, huh?” Jason said. He had no idea what that meant, but Katie had a very busy imagination.

  Jason pushed open the door to his parents' room and glanced inside. “See, Katie, there's no....”

  But Jason had seen something. He looked again.

  There it was—a small creature, about two feet high, standing on his parents' dresser. It looked like a tiny person, dressed in a ratty, dirty wool overcoat, with a woolen cap pulled low over its eyes. Its pudgy green hands pawed through his mother's jewelry box. Jason watched the creature drop a pair of ruby earrings into a pocket of its coat.

  “Hey!” Jason said.

  The little creature jumped and spun around to face him. Its face was green and ugly, with an underbite, its eyes big and yellow under the low bill of the cap.

  “What are you?” Jason asked.

  The thing growled a little, then disappeared in a puff of green smoke. It reappeared in the space in front of the dresser, near the bottom drawer, and landed on its feet, which were clad in small, badly cracked leather shoes. It ran across the carpet to the window. It disappeared in another green puff, then reappeared standing on the windowsill.

  “Stop!” Jason yelled. “Give that back!”

  The little creature stuck out its dark green tongue at Jason, then disappeared with another puff of smoke. It reappeared on the little ledge outside the window, waved at Jason with a smile full of yellow, crooked teeth, and then hopped out of sight.

  “Hey!” Jason ran to the window and opened it. He saw the creature blink in and out of visibility as it tumbled to the back yard, leaving a trail of green smoke fading in the air.

  Jason hurried out of his parents' room, past Katie, who was crouching behind her door, poking out her head.

  “Did you see the monster?” she whispered.

  “Don't worry, I chased it away.” Jason started down the steps. “But it stole some jewelry from Mom. I'll go get it back.”

  Katie stepped out of her room and walked to the top stair.

  “Can I come?” she asked.

  “No, Katie! Wait here. I'll be right back.”

  “But I want to come with!” Katie crossed her arms and pouted.

  “No! I'm serious, Katie.”

  Jason ran through the living room and out onto their concrete slab of a patio. He saw the little green man trampling through a flower bed at the edge of the yard. The creature reached the neighbor's split-rail fence and puffed through it.

  Jason raced to the fence and leaped over. When his shoes hit the ground, the creature turned its green face to look back at him, snarled, and put on speed. It puffed in and out of sight, jumping forward about a foot each time.

  Jason hurried to keep up as the creature shot forward across his neighbor's lawns. The little thing could move fast, but Jason had much longer legs than it did, and he gained on the creature.

  He was determined to catch it, and not just to recover his mother's stolen earrings. If this little monster was the one who'd been stealing jewelry all over town, then it might have Erin's necklace, too. Jason could already imagine how happy Erin would be when Jason returned it to her.

  He chased the creature into Mrs. Gottfried's yard, which was full of toy windmills and fake plastic birds. Jason caught up with it and reached one hand down to grab the creature by the scruff of its neck. Then the creature disappeared in another green puff, and Jason realized too late that the little monster had led him directly toward a low stone bench. Jason was running too fast to stop.

  His shins cracked into the bench, and Jason spilled forward, falling among a family of plastic ducks.

  Ahead of him, the little creature turned and laughed, revealing its crooked yellow teeth again. Its laughter sounded like a hyena.

  By the time Jason scrambled to his feet, the green creature was across Mrs. Gottfried's lawn and puffing its way across the main road outside Jason's neighborhood.

  Jason chased him through three more neighborhoods, activating motion-detector lights here and there when he came too close to a house. The little green guy seemed to have no effect on the motion detectors—they only clicked to life when Jason passed.

  Then Jason chased him down an overgrown trail through the woods. The green creature reached a brick wall ahead, stuck its tongue out at Jason while waving the stolen earrings, then vanished in a puff of smoke.

  Jason reached the wall and slapped his hands uselessly against it. The wall was ten feet high, covered in moss and mold. Jason realized it was the wall around Mrs. Dullahan's yard.

  “Come back here!” Jason yelled. He thought he heard a hyena-ish giggle on the other side.

  Jason picked one of the tall old trees next to the wall and climbed it as quickly as he could. He scrambled out on a thick limb over the wall, struggling to catch his breath. He'd been running nonstop.

  Below him, the deep black shadows of Mrs. Dullahan's yard were scarcely pierced by the thin moonlight. It was inhabited by big old oak trees, almost as dense as a forest. The few patches of ground he could see were overgrown with tall weeds as thick as bamboo, and for a moment he was just glad he didn't have to mow her yard for her.

  Then Jason saw a streak of weeds ripple, as if a rabbit were dashing between them.

  He didn't have time to find a safe way down. Jason held his breath and dropped from the limb into the darkness below.

  Something hard and wooden, the size of a shoebox, crunched under his ribs as he slammed into the ground.

  Jason rolled up to his feet and looked at his aching side. He'd landed on what looked like a carved wooden squirrel, its mouth and eyes wide with fright. The fearful expression was heightened by that face that Jason had just broken its head from its body.

  Looking around, his eyes adjusting to the shadows and moonlight, he saw more little wooden creatures—toads and rabbits and even a full-size deer. A wooden owl perched on a limb overhead.

  All around him, little paths paved with moss twisted through the high weeds.

  The paths snaked across the yard, curving across each other at little intersections. Each path ended at one of the giant old trees, at ornate little doors no more than a foot or two high, which appeared to be built into the tree trunks. He saw the little green creature scurry through an arched green door in a dark elm tree. It pulled the door most of the way shut.

  Jason jumped after him, grabbing the tiny knob just before the door closed. The brass doorknob was the size of a child's marble in
his fingers.

  “Hey, come back!” Jason yelled. He pulled the door open, but the little green creature was nowhere in sight.

  The interior of the tree was hollow. A series of roots formed a kind of staircase that spiraled down below the tree, out of sight.

  “You're kidding,” Jason said. He looked up at the dark shape of Mrs. Dullahan's house against the night sky. Maybe she wasn't a witch, but there was definitely something strange going on at her place.

  Jason stuck his head into the open door. He looked up, into the hollow shaft of the tree, but it was completely dark.

  Below, around the bend of the root-steps, he saw the slight glow of distant light. He could hear the faintest hint of music, and smell traces of wet, blossoming flowers and baking bread in the air.

  He put his hands inside the tree and crept forward as far as he could. He scrunched his shoulders and squeezed deeper inside, looking a little further around the curve.

  Somehow, he was able to fit even more of himself through the door, as if it expanded slightly for him. He crawled further down and around the root-and-dirt staircase, worried that the little green creature might pop out and hit him, or maybe bite him in the nose, but he was too curious to stop now.

  The curving space seemed to widen even more as he crawled forward, so he could let his shoulders relax and spread out. He crawled down another twist of the steps, and then he was completely inside the tree.

  The stairwell grew even wider as he moved forward on his hands and knees. The walls were made of packed dirt and more tree roots, and a few fireflies provided some light along the way. These fireflies were much larger and brighter than any he'd seen before, and their light was red and orange.

  He crawled around and around, and soon the stairwell was wide enough for him to stand, though he had to almost double over, his back brushing against the ceiling.

  He followed it down and down, around and around. Had it been a staircase in a building, he would have descended five or six stories by now. He kept going.

  Finally, after hundreds of steps, he reached a door. He seemed to be standing inside the round shaft of the tree trunk, though he should have been deep underground now, far below the roots of the elm tree. Golden sap dripped along the heartwood walls. His hands were covered in the sticky stuff, and probably his shirt, which felt glued to his back.