by K. M. Szpara
Quietly, I made my way down to the wide road with its crumbling gravel and piles of old metal. I hurried up it, worried a patrol might see me if I lingered. I didn’t get very far. Across the street, I found a small grassy area with stone steps and benches where outsiders walked their dogs—it took me a minute to place the furry beasts.
We’d learned about them accompanying FOEs, though these were playful. They jumped on me and wagged their tails. When I leaned close, they licked me with their big fat tongues, slobbering all over my face. I didn’t know how to talk to outsiders or even how to act, but somehow my body knew how to play with the dogs. I went to that park every day for a week straight, until the outsiders got used to me. They started to say hi, to teach me the names of all their dogs. I even told one of them my name and pronouns and they reciprocated. Their name was Ashir and they had short blue-and-green hair. Their dog’s name was Marley, and she was a miniature poodle.
It was going fine until they asked the question I’d been dreading: “Do you live around here?”
I bent down to scratch behind Marley’s ears, putting off the answer. I had to answer. Should I lie? I could hear my heart beating like it was in my ears. If I lied, they might ask where I’d come from, and I didn’t know anywhere else. I could think of no reason why I would be hanging out in a faraway park, playing with other people’s dogs.
“Yes,” I said, hoping the answer would suffice.
“Cool, I’m on Keystone, near Rockrose. You’d be welcome to come over whenever. We just got a grill and my partner is hankering to use it.”
Partner. Longing coursed through me. I wished Lark was with me—wanted him by my side. To bring him to Ashir’s house to meet their partner and dog.
“That sounds great,” I said. As if I could make plans! But it felt good to say, even if it was only pretend. Ashir and I weren’t friends; they were an outsider. We weren’t even supposed to be talking, much less grilling together.
I looked over my shoulder at the fence, as if making sure it was still there. “I’ve got to go.”
“Okay,” they said. “Feel free to knock on my door and say hi.” They smiled and tugged on Marley’s leash. I watched them turn a corner and disappear, making note of the way to Keystone. Ashir had their own home with their partner, where no one told them what to do.
I didn’t return to the park for a week. I was scared that the next time I went I wouldn’t come back, that I’d never see Lark again. My chest ached thinking about it, the pain worse than the knife, worse than the brand or the cat. When I was tempted to run to the broken picket, I ran to Lark instead. I pulled him away from lunch and down the path toward the cave where we stored our tools. Dropped to my knees and rested my forehead against his jeans.
“I need you to hurt me.”
Lark ran his fingers over my hair, tracing my braids. “Okay,” he whispered, then kissed the top of my head. “Okay.”
I chose the flogger because I knew it would bruise. I wanted to feel too sore tomorrow to venture outside the fence. Lark wasn’t brutal by nature, but he took magic seriously, and his swing was strong. I let him hit me until my groans became cries, became screams, became sobs. Until even the smooth touch of his palm against my skin felt like fire.
He offered to carry me back to our quarters, but there was nowhere he could put pressure that didn’t hurt. So, he walked slowly, letting me lean on him as we made our way to bed. It was only afternoon still. Zadie and Maeve were training, and I’m sure they’d noticed our absence. But Lark unbuckled my harness and peeled my clothes away, the layers like flower petals. He kissed each of my bruises, unwound my braids, and washed my hair.
This was why I had to stay. I had to stay for Lark. I didn’t want to think what it would do to him if I left, let alone how Nova would punish him for my transgression. As we lay together, afterwards, hair still damp, bruises blossoming across my shoulders and thighs, I imagined us at Ashir’s house, struggling to conjure an image that contained both Lark and a grill. Imagined what Lark would make of Marley, the dog that was very much not a monster.
We’d accomplished what I set out for, though. After that discipline, I couldn’t move for days. I was excused from most training sessions because every shifting muscle hurt. But as the weeks passed, and the bruises faded from purple to muddy gray, I felt the pull again. The temptation.
Lark returned one evening from performing a blessing—we never spoke about these private rituals, but Nova continued them with me, so I assumed Lark continued them with the Elders—and slid into bed beside me. He had his own, but neglected it more often than not. After the blessing, he usually passed out, exhausted, while I lay awake unable to shake the memories of Elder Zephyr fucking him. I couldn’t sleep—couldn’t live with myself any longer while Nova put Lark through that over and over.
When I was sure Lark was asleep, I carefully extricated myself from his arms and dressed in the dark. I left behind my harness and snuck out of the commune, down the path to the woods. Patrols were easier to spot at night because of the glowing potion we used to light our paths. I made sure to locate each of them before heading for the weak spot. Before pulling up the pike, slipping through, and sliding it home as if it were still rooted firmly in the ground.
The other side of the fence was quiet. No dogs were barking and only one car drove down the road. I waited until it passed to cross, then walked east, the way I’d seen Ashir leave the park. Walked until I reached a sign that read KEYSTONE and another at the top of the road that read ROCKROSE. But there were a dozen houses lining the street on both sides and most of them looked the same. How was I supposed to know which one?
The grill. Ashir’s partner had a new grill, and grills were kept outside. I ran around to the alley and looked for grills. I found three. Which house, which house? I bit down on my fist and screamed, the frustration like a knife in my side. I pressed my back against the weak wire fence around one of the houses, unable to bear the thought that it might not be Ashir’s. That I’d never find it. That I’d return alone and hopeless, unable to help the person I loved the most.
That’s when the back door flew open and a sharp voice shouted, “Hey!” A dog barked—a familiar bark. A well-known tiny monster. I jumped to my feet to find Ashir brandishing a wooden club, their partner standing on the porch holding a shiny metal rectangle.
Ashir stopped when they saw me. Rubbed their eyes. “Kane? What are you…”
I braced myself on their fence as they lowered their weapon and approached. Marley darted out of the house and toward me, wagging her tail. Ashir’s partner relaxed and called out, “You okay?”
Ashir nodded and opened both the gate and their arms, which I fell into without words. As I sobbed, they invited me inside and made me a disposable cup full of noodles with salty broth. Steeped tea for me. Waited and listened while I explained that I’d come from Druid Park, that I was a member of the Fellowship of the Anointed. They weren’t surprised. They helped me contact the FBI, even though they didn’t normally like to call their outsider authorities. Said an agent had given out their business card to those in the surrounding neighborhoods in case anyone saw anything. Ashir said they’d suspected something about me, but hadn’t been sure. That I was welcome to stay until help came, but I declined. I couldn’t spend a whole night away. Lark would notice. He would tell Nova.
You know the rest. That’s why I had to wait until my quest—I couldn’t risk it. But it won’t be long now. I’m going to lose Lark when the FBI shows up. He’s going to hate me; I already hate myself. But it’s for the best. For all of us.
25
DERYN / NOW
It feels weird being alone in the car with Miller—and yet good. I feel like her partner, like we’re on a quest together. She’s only a few years older than me, and we were both children under Nova’s care. That’s a kind of family tie, regardless of blood. Unlike anyone else in that position, I respect Miller. She knows herself, understands how her mother hurt her and her family and
the Fellowship, and I respect that she’s making it right. And Miller seems to trust me in return, trust me with her phone and the power that goes with that. For the first time in a while, I feel like I’m helping for real—helping because I want to. Not to prove I’m useful or to show off. I like it.
“Any updates?” she asks.
I refresh the search results in the browser. “Nothing new online.” Review her emails. A red dot pops up beside her texts. “Wait, here’s a message from your supervisor; looks like someone called in a tip.”
Her head turns so quickly, I’m afraid she’ll steer us off the road. “What is it?”
I tap the message to bring it up. “Lark and Calvin were spotted at a welcome center near the Ozarks. Here, along the eastern side.” I angle a photo so she can glance at it while driving.
“Can you put that into the map? The Ozarks are huge.”
“Yes.” I can. I know how to use outsider technology, and it feels like magic in my hands. It feels like helping. I tap Go and the phone begins speaking directions. “Looks like they caught a ride with some outsiders but ran off at the welcome center and went ahead on foot.”
“Good,” Miller says. “It’s dark. Hopefully, they stopped to rest nearby. Now that Kane’s gone and ditched us, we could call for backup.”
“We could…” The or lingers on the edge of my voice. I’m an equal part of this team now. Miller would listen if I said it. “Or we could just keep going by ourselves.” I look between her and the road. See her do the same, out of the corner of my eye.
“We could keep going by ourselves. No one back at the agency really understands the Fellowship like we do, and I think…” She adjusts her grip on the wheel. Smiles. “I think we make a good team.”
“Same,” I say. “Besides, if a bunch of FOEs descended on Lark, he’d probably attack them, get himself hurt, maybe take Calvin down with him. You’ll want him alive to testify.”
“That is true,” she says.
“Outsiders don’t understand, really. Don’t know how to interact with the Fellowship.”
“What about me?” Miller says. “Lark thinks I’m a FOE.”
The word no longer sits right with me—actually makes me angry. Miller is Nova’s daughter. Why should she be labeled a Force of Evil when she’s trying to help free the Fellowship from her mother’s grip?
“Well, he’s wrong. You were raised on Druid Hill while the Fellowship was forming and that makes us family, or at least Fellows. Whichever feels right to you.”
For a minute, the only sound is the occasional whoosh of passing cars. “When we first set up on Druid Hill, we were all ‘Fellows.’ Nova invented ‘Anointed’ to attract new members. She bestowed it upon their children after birth, but…” Miller’s voice wavers before tapering off. She clears her throat. “Nova never used it to describe me, her own child. Which is baffling, since I’m the reason she bought the land and started the Fellowship in the first place.” Miller takes her hands off the wheel and holds her palms up in the air. “I’m the reason she believes in magic.”
I find myself holding my breath. No way—it can’t be. “You can do magic,” I say slowly.
“I don’t know—I certainly can’t anymore. Wouldn’t even if I could.” Miller grabs the wheel before we drift into the other lane. “Even if it is real, it’s tainted. Just ask Kane. I’ve spent over two decades working through the seven long years I lived on Druid Hill. What it felt like to be pushed aside by my own mother so she could attract new members, call their children Anointed, favor and love them.
“When I opened my investigation, I told my supervisor the Fellowship’s belief system was a lie invented to control people and abuse children—how could I say otherwise? The abuse was real, though I needed an insider source. Things were rapidly evolving when my father and I escaped. My supervisor believed me, but she wouldn’t have if I’d told her my whole story. If I told her about magic. Outsiders never believe.”
My head spins so fast, I have to roll down the window to alleviate my sudden dizziness. A cool breeze whips inside the car, and I breathe the fresh air into my lungs.
“You asked Kane to use magic to help us find Lark.” I feel the weight of his anguish, when she asked him. The guilt of denying him a lifeline.
She sniffs and clears her throat again. Stares resolutely at the road. “I did. I was desperate, and angry that Lark would so selfishly run away when his testimony could help so many. Angry with Kane for not being more helpful.”
“Do you think it worked?” I asked.
“I don’t know, not sure I want to. What does it matter now?”
“You don’t think it matters if magic is real?” It’s all I’ve been able to think about for days. It’s the crux of Kane and Lark’s world—what holds their reality together or blows it apart.
“I don’t really want to think about it, Deryn. I’m sorry. I know you used to be Anointed, that this affects you personally, but it hurts me too much, and I’ve worked too hard to let that into my life again.”
“Okay,” I say. “I respect that.” But my mind is racing with possibilities—that I could still have it all: a family and magic. “But you are one of us. And Lark is my brother—even though he called me his enemy. He was wrong. You’re not a FOE, so I can’t be allied with one. He only said that because he believes Nova’s lies. Even if he doesn’t think so, we’re family. And you don’t turn your brother in. You try to bring him home.”
26
CALVIN / NOW
I didn’t expect to wake up alone, but I’m also not surprised. I’m not even really angry. It’s sadness that tugs at my heart as I roll out of bed and see one set of clothes lying over the couch by the fire. When I touch my high-tops, they’re still wet. Great. I dress, scouring the cabinets for anything to eat, while I pull on yesterday’s pants. Lark took my shirt—technically, they’re both my shirts, but he took the green Ninja Turtles one I was wearing. I pull on the one he left behind, glad to have a part of him close to me. It’s stiff from air-drying after the rain soaked it through—washed away any blood that might’ve stained its scarlet. God, I’m a terrible adventurer. Stiff fabric. Who cares? Not Lark.
I pull on my hoodie and find a box of granola bars in the cabinet that only expired six months ago—no shame in that—and stuff several in my pocket. This little crime doesn’t register: I’m already definitely getting arrested, or at least heavily interrogated by FOEs.
Damn, I’m thinking like Lark now. I miss him.
On the floor, in the middle of the rug, lies the abandoned chain, key, and cage. I shouldn’t leave them for the owners of this cabin to find, but doubt Lark wants to see them again. I decide to bury them. It’s weird, but I can’t think of a better way to dispose of them. At least burial has a sense of ceremony.
I pick my phone up off the night stand and check my notifications. Too many for me to even think about. They feel so trivial compared to Lark’s quest. I could be fighting a monster right now; there’s no way I can go from that to scrolling my newsfeed. Sixty-seven percent battery in power-save mode. Wish I’d grabbed a charger, but I won’t need nearly that much to call Lilian and get a Lyft. A really expensive Lyft.
I’m tapping through my texts to ask Lilian for the hospital’s address, when I grab the front doorknob and realize it won’t open. I try twisting the knob the other direction. Pulling and pushing, even though I know that’s not right. What the hell? If the door is stuck, how did Lark get out? Or … did he lock the door behind him? I jam my phone into my pocket and jiggle the knob with both hands. Nothing.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Lilian? I dig it out. No, it’s a message sent to my Patreon account. I almost ignore it—usually they’re guys trying to pay me for sex—but the preview stops me.
Deryn
If this is the same Calvin who took Lark on a quest to kill a monster, please write back. My name is Deryn (they/them) and I’m Lark’s sibling.
Deryn. I remember seeing them on the highway, plea
ding for Lark to join them. Lark chose me instead. Well, Kane too. The point is, he didn’t choose to go with his sibling. Why should I trust them now?
I open the message. Deryn found my Patreon? They had to donate five dollars to send that message, so they must be serious. Where did they get a credit card? I type, making sure to use complete sentences. Fellowship members can’t be well versed in texting.
Calvin
I got your message. What’s up?
My response hangs in limbo while the internet thinks about sending my message. Almost no signal out here. I check available Wi-Fi and there’s only one, appropriately named “BnB OZRK1,” password protected—as if anyone is going to steal their internet all the way out here.
Okay, I’m stealing their internet. I find the password on a laminated piece of paper in the kitchen, alongside information about where the cleaning supplies are and the closest restaurants.
The second I connect to BnB OZRK1, I get another notification.
Deryn
I’m with Agent Miller. She’s NOT a FOE. Lark only sees her that way because he was raised to. You saw her. You know she looks normal.
He’s right. I did see her, and she did look normal, even though she was shooting at my car.
Calvin
Does she still have her gun?
Deryn
Yes, but she isn’t going to use it.
Yeah, right.
Deryn
I’m messaging you because some outsiders called in a tip on your location. We haven’t called for backup but are worried they might show up anyway, and we don’t want Lark to get hurt. Or hurt anyone else.
Calvin
You’re out of luck. He ditched me.
