by K. M. Szpara
“Okay. I’m going to check on Lark,” I say. “I’ll be back.”
I stuff my phone in my hoodie and hop out of the car, not bothering to close the door. I find him quickly, clearing a small circle in the middle of the trees. He’s gathered wood into one pile and various plants in another. I don’t know what they are and don’t ask.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” he says. Relief rises through his body. I watch the tension release his muscles, leave his face. Lark means it, he’s glad to see me.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“Fine.” No one’s ever meant that, and I suspect that doesn’t exclude the Anointed.
“Did you find everything you need for the salve?” I crouch to examine the plants as if I have anything to contribute.
“Not exactly, but I made some substitutions I think will work. It’ll just take more magic on my part.”
I nod. I refuse to ask him what he’ll do if his magic isn’t real, even if I’m thinking it. How can I? Whether or not I think he made the right choice, Kane’s life is at stake.
“Okay.” I slap my hands against my thighs. “How can I help?”
That’s when the door slams. Lark and I look over at the car and watch as Lilian starts the engine and backs onto the grass.
My “what the fuck?” fills the brief pause as she changes gears, and then she’s off.
Lark doesn’t hesitate. He drops the purple flowers in his hand and runs. I follow, chasing him as he chases them down the road.
“Lilian!” I shout, feet pounding so hard against the pavement they hurt. “What the fuck!”
Lark’s feet barely touch the ground. He runs as if he’s flying, and as Lilian slows down for a series of potholes, I realize he could catch her. She’s heading back to the main road, the direction I didn’t choose after we took the exit. A road with lights and two-way traffic and a shared turn lane in the middle, with businesses lining its sides and busy parking lots. She slows—I could pick that orange hatchback out of traffic, anywhere—but doesn’t stop.
Cars keep coming as Lark runs into the intersection—keep turning and speeding around him. I keep running after him, holding out a hand to stop oncoming traffic, just fucking hoping they see me in the dark.
When I was fourteen, my parents took me with them to visit some family friends who’d moved to Utah. We went for a picnic alongside a canyon with a shallow side, and of course, us kids went climbing. I climbed too far—shallow became steep—and the ground slipped under me. That was the only other time in my life I thought I was going to die. I imagined falling down the side of the canyon. Would it hurt when I hit the ground? I wondered. For a moment, I made peace with death.
Standing in an intersection between two strip malls in Arkansas, holding my hands out as if they have the power to stop traffic, I’m at peace again. Cars going opposite directions pull out to make their left-hand turns as I stand in the midst of blaring horns, coming toward me before curving away. I stand as confidently as Edward Cullen, as if my hand will put a dent in any car that dares approach. None of them slow, only swerve around me.
I hear tires screech and close my eyes. Brace for impact.
It doesn’t come. When I open my eyes, the cars are stopped. Drivers lean out of rolled-down windows, asking me if everything’s okay. I don’t know—where’s Lark? I scour the ground for his mangled body, before I spot him weaving his way through the sudden standstill. He’s the only thing moving on a road full of cars. My orange Fit is nowhere in sight.
“Sorry,” I say, weaving through them. “So sorry.” Behind me, they move again slowly, horns honking. Oh god, Lilian left us, she left me.
Panic threatens to consume me, but—I can do this. I have Lark and my phone, thank fuck. Ahead, Lark runs onto the shoulder, slowing to a walk. I do the same, apologizing the whole way. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I find one missed call: Lilian.
I call her back, catching my breath while the phone rings and rings and—
“Hey,” she answers.
“Hey, I was just wondering if you’ve seen my car. Someone stole it.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Seriously, though, come back.”
“I will, once I know Kane’s safe. I’m taking him to the hospital.”
“He doesn’t have insurance, Lil. He doesn’t have literally any money.”
“He could die, Calvin. I can’t believe you carried on humoring Lark as long as you did.”
“I wasn’t humoring him.”
“I—” She cuts herself off. “Look, you should stop this. Go sit in a coffee shop somewhere and text me your location. I’ll pick you up once Kane’s admitted. Bring Lark. This whole thing is a stupid mess, but he’s good for Kane.”
“It’s not stupid.” I worry I’m lying.
“Supporting him is one thing,” she says. “When your parents stopped paying your tuition, I let you sleep on my couch to save money. That’s support. When you told me to leave Ariana, helped me see how shitty she was to me, that was support, even if it didn’t feel great at the time. But what you’re doing isn’t that. You’re enabling Lark, Calvin. Thanks to Kane, he was liberated from a cult. They hurt him, and they brainwashed him, and you’re following along on his deluded quest because, why, you want magic to be real? What Kane did for Lark was magic. He didn’t betray the Fellowship; he saved them. So, stop this. Give up this quest. It’s not real, and it is hurting Lark. I hope I can show you that by taking Kane to the hospital. You figure things out with Lark, Cal. I’ll talk to you later.”
She hangs up without another word from me. Hers hang around me like fog as I walk. As I close the distance to Lark, I feel a drop. Another. I put my hood up, wishing I’d taken my luggage with me when I’d gotten out of the car. I had an umbrella in there. My hoodie absorbs the rain as it begins to fall harder.
Lark’s walking when I reach him. He doesn’t look at me and doesn’t stop, not that we’re moving fast. He breathes normally and looks determined. I’m no stranger to exercise but all the chasing-after-cars has taken its toll on my legs. The rain comes harder, but Lark doesn’t even put the hood of his sweatshirt up. He tilts his head back, lets the fat drops splatter his face and roll down his cheeks like tears.
“Stop,” I say when my socks are so wet they squelch inside my high-tops.
He does. I’m a little surprised. We’re under a streetlamp on the side of the road. Its bright light flickers on above us, as if we activated it with our presences. Reality is, it’s dark. It’s raining and chilly, and I’m worried Lilian’s right. I’m worried I’m going to have to betray Lark. I don’t want to; I want him to be right with every fiber of my being. But I don’t know how to help him.
Lark turns, leans against the tall metal pole, and looks at me with those electric blue eyes. He still looks straight out of Middle Earth, and it’s easy to forget he’s human. But in this moment, I see the person he is, and I know it’s not just rain running down his face.
“I don’t know what to do, Calvin.” Lark presses his hands hard against his face before wiping them away. The rain and tears keep coming, and I can’t do anything to stop either. “I already left Kane once. Can I do it again? Should I keep going on my quest, or run after him? I don’t…” He drops his hands to his sides. “I don’t even know where I’m going anymore.” He hunches his shoulders. “When I saw Kane in that fog, I thought he was a FOE.”
“What does that mean?”
Lark gestures to his face. “He had no eyes, his skin moved like there was something underneath it. FOEs are hard to look at because they’re agents of monsters. Miller is a FOE.”
Miller looked like a regular person to me, eyes, skin, and all. But I believe that Lark sees her like that. That he saw Kane like that for a moment.
“Kane’s time outside the fence may have changed him, but it couldn’t have made him a FOE. He would never work for a monster. If they’re even real,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands.
This is my chance. To
take Lilian’s advice and support Lark by steering him in the right direction. I could do it now.
“The outside world isn’t anything like I thought.” His cheeks redden. “I believed everything Nova taught us. I feel stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” Say something, Calvin. Tell him maybe it’s all in his head.
“I should’ve run into a monster by now, with all these FOEs around. I should know where I’m going, or what to do.” Lark takes my hands. Slides our fingers together and holds them tight. “I haven’t told you how much it meant that you came with me. I gave you no reason to trust me.”
I hazard a smile. “You threatened me, actually.”
Lark returns it, looking between his feet and our hands and my lips. I try not to look at his lips. Not to think about how much I want to kiss him. Press my body against his and feel his warmth against this rain. How can I tell Lark something that isn’t in my heart? The words are simple, and yet …
“I did, didn’t I?” he says.
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t really have hurt you. I don’t think,” he adds, smile fading.
“You wouldn’t have,” I say confidently. “I came with you because I believe in you. I can see that you know yourself, and I trust in that.”
“But what if I don’t?”
You’re enabling Lark, Calvin.
Give up this quest.
It is hurting Lark.
I sigh. Suck it up and say something actually helpful. “Then, that’s okay. You have time now, and people who will help you figure yourself out. I know I’m one of them.”
Lark kisses me, and I forget Lilian’s words. His lips are warm, hands strong and rough, even when wet. When he pulls me against him, I go, pressing his body against the lamppost while cars whoosh by, spraying us with water. I reach for that same feeling he gave me beside the pool, while he was healing himself. That wild magic. I don’t know if it’s the same thing, but I feel a flutter in my chest. The tug of want and the heat of need. Excitement I felt when we first met—was that only a day ago? It feels like ages. I find myself wishing we’d grown up together on Druid Hill. That I was Anointed, that we could make magic together.
I don’t want him to give up and go home. I want to finish this quest with him.
The rain surges. Drops hit my skin like a thousand pinpricks, and when I open my eyes, I can barely see him. “Do you want to get out of this rain?” I raise my voice over its roar.
Lark nods. “We need to find shelter. Follow me.”
I take his hand and let him lead me off the side of the road and into the trees—away from the shopping centers and whatever coffeehouse Lilian imagined me waiting in. Far from anywhere a Lyft might pick us up to meet her at the hospital. Find shelter, Lark said, as if we weren’t running through the edges of a rural town in the middle of America. As if there are caves and ruins to hide in, as if we’re in a land of fantasy.
That’s the quest I was looking for, but this is the one I got—and isn’t that how quests work? When I take his hand, I make my decision. It’s cheesy as fuck, but I’ve always followed my heart, even when it meant turning down family support or living off ramen for five years. So, I’m not going to start faking it now. If Lark wants to turn back, I’ll support his decision. But until then, I’m not giving up. I grip his hand tighter, follow more closely, and wipe Lilian’s words from my memory.
23
LARK / NOW
Calvin’s hand warms mine as we run through the rain. My boots stick and slide in the mud, splash through puddles. I have no idea where we’re going, and I love it. I love being soaked to the bone, surrounded by trees, heading west. This is what my quest was supposed to feel like all along. A journey of freedom and determination. No cars, no guns.
No Kane. Don’t think about him. He’s going to be fine. Calvin reassured me that Lilian drove him to a hospital, and they would take care of him. I suppress my fear that their doctors will corrupt him. Kane’s been going outside the fence for months. He’s survived this long among outsiders, and I do trust Lilian to look out for him.
All along, she doubted me, but she took my partner to safety when he needed it most. When my magic failed me. I try not to think about it. Back in the car, with healing words on my lips and my hands on Kane’s leg, I couldn’t help him. No matter what I tried, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. I think he wanted to go to the hospital, anyway. I was the one who wouldn’t let him. I’d have killed him if I’d stopped her.
Kane may be safe at the hospital, but I wouldn’t be. After all I’ve done, someone would call the outsider authorities, my FOEs. I’m not ready for that yet. Even though I’m not sure what’s right or real anymore, I know I need to find out on my own.
Well, I don’t mind Calvin’s company.
We reach another road. With no cars coming, we decide to follow it, hoping it’ll lead to some kind of shelter. It doesn’t, and it’s so dark out now that I can see the stars. Calvin and I walk hand in hand. Eventually, a single car slides up the road from behind us, slowing as it nears. Soon, we are going the same speed. Calvin stares resolutely forward. Says, “Don’t look at them.”
“Why?” I ask. “Are they evil? Are they FOEs?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I doubt it. But strangers don’t usually approach you without a reason. People get killed accepting free rides.”
“They do?” I can’t help looking.
The front passenger window rolls down and an outsider leans out the window. They have big curly red hair, dark skin, and black lips. I hope it’s lipstick—that stuff Lilian showed me. Otherwise, it’s some kind of necrosis or evil infection.
“You’re that guy,” they say. I roll my eyes. Nothing like an outsider who thinks they know you well enough to guess your gender.
They snap their fingers and point at me. “Meadowlark!”
“Yeah, that’s it!” says the driver: a person with skin my color, hair shaved to the scalp, and a face full of freckles. “The Fellowship guy.”
The passenger smiles and rests their chin on their hand, gently poking long red nails into their cheek. Nails like Lilian’s. “Do you two need a ride?”
“No, thanks!” Calvin waves and keeps walking.
The passenger raises their angular eyebrows. “It’s raining and there’s nothing around for miles. We’re not going to hurt you.”
“I believe that,” Calvin mutters.
“Why not accept?” I ask quietly. “When you offered me a ride, I trusted you.”
“And I trusted you,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze. “But I don’t trust strangers who pick people up on the side of the road.”
“How about this.” I stop and face him. Face away from the car and hold both of Calvin’s hands. “We accept their offer. Get a ride, get out of this torturous drizzling rain. If they try anything, I’ll kill them.” I add a smile to the deal. As much as I love the adventure, it’s dark and cold. If I were on my own and the weather were better, I’d have set up camp for the night already, but I haven’t found anywhere warm enough to protect Calvin.
“Okay, fine,” Calvin says. “But don’t kill them. Maybe just intimidate them.”
I pat the various pockets and sheaths on my harness. “I have two knives, a dozen offensive potions, and Spellslinger.”
“Isn’t that like a magic wand?” Calvin asks.
“Of a sort,” I say.
“Then, that’ll do it,” he says.
“Oh, and I’m trained in hand-to-hand combat.”
“I get it.” But he’s smiling.
“We’ll take the ride, thanks.” I wave at the passenger and hear the click I now recognize as doors unlocking. Calvin and I get into the back, and it’s not long before I watch his eyelids droop and his body go limp. “I’ll take first watch,” I say as his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.
He mumbles, “Mmkay.” Calvin may be brave and trustworthy, but he hasn’t trained for this quest. Doesn’t have my stamina and enduranc
e. Can’t survive on as little sleep, food, and water as I can.
I watch the countryside fly past the windows, as the driver and passenger ask me questions. I answer them as broadly as possible, telling them what they want to hear. That yes, I can do magic, and wow, isn’t the outside world so great. All partial or exaggerated truths. I don’t tell them how frequently my magic has failed me lately. How much I miss home, even though sitting in this car beside Calvin isn’t so bad.
After an hour or so, the driver turns the radio on, and I pretend to ignore that the disembodied voice is talking about me. Well, Nova and the Fellowship and Kane and me.
“Reports are coming in that one of the members of the cult known as the Fellowship of the Anointed has arrived at a hospital in Arkansas, of all places, with a non-member named Lilian Walker-Park. They’d been on the road with another member, who attacked several law enforcement agents before running away with a non-member identified as Calvin Morris.”
It was inevitable the outsider authorities would learn his name—and I did warn him. Yet, I feel guilty.
“They were last spotted running through an intersection near Jonesboro, Arkansas, and are believed to be on foot. If anyone has any information on their whereabouts, they should call the tip line at 1-800-555-3927. There’s a reward for information that leads to their location.”
The outsiders look at each other, and I look at Calvin.
He’s still asleep—I glance at the clock—8:37 p.m. I place a hand over one of my knives, reminding myself that I can stop the outsiders in the front seat if they try anything. But they don’t. Another hour passes before we pass a sign that says:
OZARK NATIONAL FOREST
WELCOME CENTER
1 MILE
The passenger leans over their seat. “You mind if we stop here? We can grab some snacks. Hit the can.”
“That’s fine,” I say, unsure which “can” they mean. Doesn’t sound very restful, but using all this energy has made me hungry. Experiencing all these emotions has probably drained my magic, if I ever had any.
