by K. M. Szpara
I hear Lilian’s protest: “No, this is too far.”
The FOE steps onto the white dotted line, the one that separates traffic and leads right to me. The holes where its eyes should be face my direction. Then, it calls my name: “Lark!”
I loosen my hold on the bow. If it knows my name, it must know me. It knows I’m after the monster that gives it power. That I won’t hesitate to strike it down in the middle of the highway, surrounded by outsiders. They roll down their windows, chatter and music spilling from their cars as they watch.
“Lark, put the weapon down. I only want to talk. You can trust me.” It’s Agent Miller. Despite her request, she doesn’t lower her gun—I recognize the black metal. I remember what it did to me. My arm aches just from gripping my weapons.
An outsider shrieks through their open window; another rolls theirs up, cursing. A door pops open. The FOE’s head swivels left and right, gauging the situation. “FBI,” she shouts. “Everyone remain calm and lock your doors. Do not leave your vehicles.”
She is distracted. Now is my chance. I plant my feet firmly, draw the arrow back again, and hold my breath.
“Lark, it’s me!” Another figure darts in front of her. “I’m here!”
I look. The arrow looses crooked.
I hear it hit—hear the point lodge in flesh. But I haven’t hit the FOE Miller. The second, familiar figure lumbers in front of her. Its eyes aren’t pits—they aren’t black at all. As they come closer, I see their eyes are brown and their skin only twitches, rather than squirms. Only hints at unnatural movement—or is that because they’re injured? It’s not a FOE; it’s not even an outsider. It’s Kane.
The arrow’s buried itself in his thigh, stopped by his thick muscle. A cry slips from between his lips, as his mouth hangs open. Fog whispers around the edges of his body—as whole and beautiful as I remember. Did he manage to free himself from the monster’s grasp?
The FOE Miller holsters her weapon. “Everyone stay in your cars!” she shouts, rushing forward toward Kane. I won’t let her have him.
“Away from him!” It only takes a moment for me to loose another arrow—this time with her head in my sights.
She ducks, rolling out of the way and disappearing behind a wide black vehicle. I close my eyes, attuning myself with the vibrations of her footfalls, trying to track her escape—do I stop her or help Kane?—but a pounding overtakes my senses.
I feel Lilian and Calvin run past me—wind rushing in their wakes as if they are cars, themselves, driving against traffic. They disappear into a cloud of thick fog that descends on Kane’s staggering figure. Cold realization floods my body, that he’s not a FOE. That he came for me and I shot him. I should follow them, help them help him. Calvin has rudimentary supplies and a helpful touch, but only I can heal—
Someone grabs my shoulder. “Lark! You need to come with us.”
I wrest myself free. Turn and look at—“Deryn? What are you—no!” I stumble back, draw another arrow from my quiver; Miller is still out there. I sweep the area, but too many outsiders have disobeyed her, have begun running away from us. I can’t make out her silhouette in the fog. “I’m not going back.”
“We came for you.” They hold out their hand. “Kane told me what happened and, please, we can help you.”
I narrow my eyes. “We? You mean Miller. You’re working with Miller. She’s a FOE! I won’t—”
“No, she’s not. She’s a person—a person who the Fellowship hurt, just like me and you and Kane.” Deryn keeps their hand out, waiting. I’m not taking it. I won’t go back to the city with them, won’t trust their word on Miller. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They’re not Anointed.
Cars awaken like beasts around us, as the traffic ahead begins to move. An engine roars to life. Wheels creep slowly over asphalt. Horns blare at the abandoned vehicles in front of them. The FOE reemerges from the fog, gun in hand. Tires screech. An outsider screams and this time Miller doesn’t reassure them. She walks slowly forward, avoiding car doors as they fling open, sidestepping the people who run for the trees.
“Please, Lark. I want to help,” Deryn says. Concern furrows their brow, but I don’t believe it. They’ve been jealously poking at me for years. Why should I think they’ve changed, after they set the FOE on me back at Druid Hill? I nock another arrow, and I see fear on their face. Desperation as they search mine for sympathy. “Look, I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.” But their jaw is tight and the words come out as if forced. “If I’d known…” They shake their head. “We’re family.”
“Thank god, you’re still here.” Calvin approaches from the side of the road, gasping for breath. Where has he been? He was with—“Lilian’s bringing Kane to the car. I came back for you, let’s—Holy shit!” He grabs onto me when he sees Miller.
“Put the weapon down, Lark!” Her voice is loud but steady. Clear. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I—”
Before she can finish her sentence, I let a second arrow fly. She ducks behind a car and the arrow lodges itself in metal. A translucent yellow fluid spurts from the car’s side.
“Please, Lark.” Deryn takes a step, their hand trembling. “She doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“Who is this?” Calvin asks, looking suspiciously at Deryn.
Another group of outsiders runs from their car, the adults scooping children up into their arms. Shouts of “Gun! She’s got a gun!” and “A fucking bow and arrows!” echo around us.
“Lark, we’ve got to go!” Calvin pulls me back as the FOE’s form becomes clearer amidst the fog.
I lower my bow and accept Calvin’s hand. Look Deryn directly in the eyes, so they know I’m not simply choosing Kane. I am making this decision. “I will not abandon my quest for you or anyone else. And if you’ve allied yourself with a FOE, then we are enemies.” I don’t wait for Deryn’s response. I turn my back on them and go with Calvin. At least he wants to help. He doesn’t lie to me or cut me down or ally with FOEs.
We run through traffic as it starts and stops, screeches and squeals. As horns blare and people shout and a siren draws nearer. I almost want to see the thing that makes that sound; I’ve heard it for so long but never seen one.
Calvin’s car is still stopped in the middle of the road, doors wide open. As we near, I see Lilian in the back seat with Kane. I stop in shock. Blood stains his blue jeans black.
“Get in the front.” Calvin pushes me toward the passenger side then asks Lilian, “You good to go?”
“Yeah,” she says, and he slams the back doors closed, blocking my view of them.
That gets me going. I run around the car and into the front seat as Miller shouts over the panic that surrounds us. I can’t make out her words over the screams, and don’t stop to listen. Cars swerve past us, trying to squeeze around empty vehicles. Calvin and I close our doors at the same time, and he doesn’t wait for me to buckle up. With a twist of the keys, the car starts and he thrusts his foot on the pedal.
“Can you get us out of here?” Lilian shouts from the back.
“Think so,” Calvin answers, but his eyes are on the road, fingers white from gripping the wheel. “We’ll find out…”
A shot bangs over the commotion. I feel its force in my bones and a ringing in my ears. Look over my shoulder in time to see the FOE Miller, gun braced, with Deryn at her side. As the fog thickens around them, I see Deryn’s form twitch. Their eyes darken and then—they’re gone. As we speed away, I wonder whether I’ve left them for now, or for good.
21
KANE / CONFIDENTIAL
Lark showed up at dinner bouncing with excitement. I should’ve known something was wrong; he only ever got excited by magic, discipline, or ritual.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He moved closer, lowering his voice even though we were alone in the line for food. Zadie and Maeve went to wash up after sparring. The Fellow at the service window beckoned us forward, and Lark followed as if he were attached to me. I didn’t mind th
e closeness but worried what it meant.
I grabbed trays for both of us, thanking the Fellow and handing one to Lark. He took it without acknowledging them, and hurried to keep up with me, a smile gracing his lips. We passed the Anointed children, and I remember thinking how, when I was young, almost every child was chosen. Anointing was becoming rarer as our population grew. Anointment had always been a big deal, but it was becoming a week-long celebration. The children were treated like heroes before they could even walk, much less wield a sword.
I pried my eyes off them, trying not to think of the day their magic would manifest and the discipline would begin. Their tongues pierced, fluids harvested, bodies kept under lock and key.
Zadie and Maeve were just arriving when we sat down. They waved, getting into line. Lark sat beside me and leaned so close our thighs and shoulders touched. Flyaways from his long fishtail braid tickled my neck as he pressed his lips to my ear.
“Nova invited me to participate in a special ritual tonight.” His words played over and over again in my head as he stabbed a forkful of roasted vegetables.
“Oh?” was all I could muster, not close to matching the excitement that coursed through his body. He was practically jittering beside me.
“Mm-hm,” he said, mouth full. “I’m supposed to meet her at sunset for further instructions. I think it’s a ritual. Advanced, obviously.” He pushed his food around his plate, clearly distracted. Over at the service window, a Fellow handed Zadie her tray.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, not daring to look up from my plate lest he react badly.
He did. I heard his dish rattle as he pushed back from the table. “No. I’m supposed to go alone.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure Nova wouldn’t mind. She’s invited me to private rituals before.”
That got him. His blue eyes lit up. “She has? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you not allowed?” Lark looked around, in case anyone was within earshot. At a distance, the Fellow handed Maeve her tray.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “She didn’t say explicitly.”
She had, of course. She ordered me to tell no one about the secret ritual, including the other Anointed, and I hadn’t. I was too afraid of what they’d think of me. I couldn’t share the fact that Nova had removed my chastity and collected my fluids—even my tears—as if she were picking herbs. She was planning to do the same to Lark, I just knew it. The thought made my stomach turn. I stabbed my fork into my chicken and left it there, unable to fathom eating.
“Well, she called this one a blessing. Is that what you did?”
“I don’t know.” It felt like someone was pinching the top of my nose, pressing their fingers against my bones. If they kept pushing, I’d fracture, and their whole hand would press into my skull. “I’ll come with you and we can try it together.”
“No!” Lark pulled back, a sudden distance opening between us. A few of the children looked over their shoulders before their teacher pointed them back to their food and scowled at us. We were supposed to know better. Any emotional outburst was like springing a magical leak. He was setting a bad example.
“Sorry,” I said, not nearly loud enough for others to hear. I didn’t want to draw any more attention.
“What’s gotten into you?” Lark poked at his food again, thinking about eating or thinking about the ritual or thinking about me. “You know jealousy will drain your magic.”
I blinked, stunned. “Jealous? Lark, I’m just looking out for you. I’ve done this before. Nova, she…” I bit my lip. Maeve and Zadie drew closer. Too close to finish my sentence. I swallowed my warning with a sigh. If I’d been brave enough to tell him, maybe he wouldn’t have gone.
He didn’t speak to me for the rest of dinner. That was Lark, always doing as he was told, practicing discipline and enforcing it in others, holding Nova’s words closer to his heart than he did mine. He got up from the table first, leaving food on his plate, despite the diet Nova mandated for us. That was the only rule he broke that night.
I knew he was angry—angry that I would be concerned for him. I assumed he would be a lot angrier if he found out I followed him to this blessing ritual.
* * *
Ritual House was dark, though, when I arrived, Lark nowhere to be seen. The sunset only a red smear on the horizon. I kept walking—away from the gates of the commune, toward the old zoo ticket booths. No way Nova would perform a private ritual where others might happen upon them.
I did, though. The two of them stood in one of the wooden gazebos that surrounded the commune’s entrance. Nova’s hand slipped from Lark’s shoulder, and, as they murmured goodbyes, I ducked behind a tree. They couldn’t be finished already; where was she going? I held my breath as she walked back the way I’d just come—back to the commune.
I was about to leave my hiding spot and go to him when someone stepped into Nova’s place. An Elder. It was too risky to move closer while they were walking toward me, so I cast a spell that would help me see in the dark. Magic and fear burned through my blood.
They both wore long woolen robes—ritual robes. The sleeves bunched slightly at Lark’s wrists. I dug my fingers into the bark as they lowered their hoods and greeted each other. It was Elder Zephyr, who taught the younger Anointed children about herbs. I watched him lay a hand on Lark’s shoulder to exchange energy, but Lark didn’t return the gesture. Something was wrong with Lark’s wrists: they looked bandaged. Was he hurt? I moved closer for a better look.
Zerphyr’s hand lingered on Lark’s shoulder, sliding down the length of his arm, taking the robe with it. Exposing his bare shoulder; it glowed in the moonlight. That’s when I noticed the pillows and blankets that covered the gazebo. The floor looked soft, like a sacred grove covered in moss and pillowy foliage. That should be me in there with Lark, sharing the beautiful moonlit space, holding each other.
Zephyr took one of Lark’s hands to his lips. They weren’t bandaged from injury, they were blunted. Fat white gauze wrapped around his wrists and wound around his balled fists. Nova had bound them so he couldn’t perform magic. Zephyr kissed each in turn, before pushing the robe off Lark’s other shoulder. It slid away smoothly, falling into a pile at his feet and exposing his naked body to the starlit sky.
I wasn’t near enough. Just one tree closer couldn’t hurt. There was one ten feet ahead, and they were so focused on each other, they never noticed me as I moved. I wanted to do something—to stop whatever was about to happen. Chase Zephyr off. Tell him Nova sent word that the blessing was canceled.
I wanted to hurt him. The way I felt, I could have killed him and not lost sleep over it. I didn’t, because I’m a coward. I didn’t care about Zephyr, but Lark would report back to Nova, and then … then I’d lose him for sure.
A shiver rippled through my body at the sight of Zephyr unfastening his pants and pushing Lark to his knees. I imagined his hard cock bouncing between his legs as he steered it into Lark’s mouth. I couldn’t see from that angle and I didn’t want to. It was too much watching like this, unable to do anything about it, and despite the sick fury, my own erection strained against the metal bars of my chastity.
I wanted to feel what Zephyr felt. Wanted to be with Lark on a bed of soft blankets, making love under the moonlight. Alone, without anyone telling us how to behave.
I turned my back, but the sounds—the sounds. Gagging and heaving. Loud gasping breaths and moans. When I dared to look again, when it was finally quiet, I could see Zephyr’s fingers threading through Lark’s hair. He was ruining the braids I had woven that morning, splaying the strands as he forced his fingers between them. And then he grabbed one of Lark’s thick braids in his fist and yanked his head back.
I took the chance to move to the next tree. The closest one—I was so close.
“Turn around,” Zephyr said.
I was so caught up in what they were saying, I didn’t stop to think that I was near enough that Lark might see me. He turned, and I saw his face. Gasped, pressin
g my hand over my mouth. There were straps on his cheeks. The same brown leather our harnesses were made from. I hadn’t noticed before because they buckled beneath his hair, but now I could see what had been done to him.
The straps held a black plastic circle in his mouth, behind his teeth. It was a gag—a gag that kept his mouth wide open while Zephyr stuffed his cock down Lark’s throat.
My scream lodged itself in my throat as I peeked again. I watched Lark position himself on all fours while Zephyr fucked my partner. He was trying not to feel it, I could tell from how his eyes closed in concentration. His body swayed back and forth with Zephyr’s thrusting. Saliva dripping in a thin line from his open mouth.
Why had Nova done that to him? Turned him into a glorified hole for an Elder’s pleasure? This was not a blessing. It was cruel, whether or not Lark thought so. He should have thought so, but I have no doubt he enjoyed serving her purpose.
Then I heard Zephyr ask, “Can you come in this thing?” Zephyr sat back on his heels and pulled Lark’s body against his, sat Lark on his cock. He bounced Lark’s cock in his hand, heavy in its metal cage, and pulled a small plastic-looking object from somewhere beside him.
“What is that?” I whispered, before clapping my hand over my mouth.
Zephyr turned his head, and I flattened myself behind the tree, not daring to move. Barely daring to breathe. “Thought I heard something,” he said. A goat bleated in the distance.
I waited for him to come barging over and haul me from my hiding place. I counted the seconds—got to one hundred twenty-six before I heard the loud vibration of plastic against metal, two materials not meant to bang rapidly against each other.
“Must’ve been an animal,” Zephyr said.
Lark moaned, and I risked peeking again as he leaned his head back on Zephyr’s shoulder. Squirmed on his lap. I remember watching his hands, still wrapped in white bandages, two solid white balls vainly seeking purchase. I thought about how perfect the bonds wrapping his fingers into fists would be for punching Zephyr in his face.
