by Plum Pascal
At the question, the shadow that shrouds my memory lifts enough that I can confidently tell him who I am. At least I know my name, anyway. Or, at the very least, I know the name the voice keeps calling me.
“My name is Eilish,” I answer. My tone of voice is bordering on frantic. As to precincts, though, I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“What you doin’ here?”
“Something is following me!” I yell, feeling lightheaded again. I have to drop my attention back to the ground, because my knees are starting to sway and my vision is blurring again.
“What precinct you comin’ from?” the soldier repeats.
“I don’t know!” I admit before glancing behind me, certain I hear the sound of something coming. But nothing is there. Whatever it is, it’s still in the forest. I face forward again. “Please, open the gate!”
The soldier turns to another one who appears on the platform and the two speak. The second one shakes his head, and the one I briefly interacted with shrugs as he turns back to face me.
“We ain’t gonna let you in unless you tell us what business you got here,” he says.
“Something is following me in the woods!” I scream up at him. “Please!”
“You got currency?” the other one chimes in.
“What?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Coins. Somethin’ to make it worth our while?”
I thrust my hands into my pockets and come up with nothing. Not even a stray piece of lint. I look back up at them and shake my head.
“We can’t help you,” the first soldier finishes and starts to turn his back on me.
Take off your hat and show them your hair, the voice instructs me.
With no alternatives, I follow the directive and reach up, only just now realizing I’m wearing a hat. I pull it off and a mess of matted white hair, complete with leaves, seeds and other forest debris, falls down around my shoulders.
“It’s an angel,” I hear the original guard yell to the other one.
Just then, the sound of metal against metal screeches through the air, and my attention is drawn forward as the gates begin to open.
###
Silvanus
I watch the female disappear behind the man-made gates of the precinct and curse my bad luck. I am too late.
I do not know how it is possible that she moved as quickly as she did, owing to the foreign intoxicant that bubbles within her veins and causes her confusion. It should have been easier to overtake her.
Morrigan must have emblazoned her with enough power to outrun me, I think. Never mind, the female will be in my custody soon enough. I will see to it. And when she is, I will make up for lost time.
When I hear myself snort, I realize I am still assuming the shape of the boar. Shaking off the creature’s likeness, I return to myself.
It will be more difficult to reach her now that she is within the precinct, but I will not give up.
She can only hide for so long.
###
Eilish
“Get Anona,” the first guard says to the other one, who obediently takes off. I turn around to make sure whatever was following me isn’t still there. But, no, the gates are nearly closed, operated by two guards on either side of them. As I watch them slam shut, the gates suddenly seem farther away than they were, like I’m looking at them through a thick glass lens.
I shake the visual away and face forward. Once I realize I’m safe, my knees give out and I collapse to the ground. Inhaling deeply, I spread my fingers in the wet dirt and feel like kissing it.
I’m panting. My heart’s racing and I feel lightheaded and… strange. My eyes are still blurry and it feels like the rain is coming down harder, which makes them even blurrier.
Someone grips me by the upper arm and hoists me to my feet. I look up to see the first guard from the platform. His face is still covered by his helmet, a broad iron covering that only reveals his black eyes. I look at his hand where it’s wrapped around my arm, still trying to decipher his nationality, but his leather gloves hide his skin.
“Where… am I?” I ask, but the words barely make it off my lips. They feel heavy and thick in my mouth. I try to make my feet work, but my legs feel like jelly. The guard has to drag me up the dirt path that leads into a town… of sorts.
“You’re in Precinct Five,” he answers, his voice deep and throaty.
Precinct Five means nothing to me.
“What you doin’ out there by yourself?” he asks as he continues to pull me along the dirt road. On either side of us are buildings—some as high as three stories. A few are still intact, but the others bear the signature of the bombs that went off a decade or so earlier. Even so, the insides appear tidy enough—all evidence of the Singularity has been removed. Now, the remains of the buildings just look like empty caskets.
The Singularity…
The word repeats in my mind and I suddenly don’t know what it means or how it got into my head. I’m not even sure how I know what the Singularity is, but the information sits in my brain all the same.
“You hear me?” the guard demands, and I remember he’s just asked me something. “What you doin’ out there alone?”
“I don’t know,” I admit as I try my best to remember, try to understand the events of the last hour. But there’s nothing but a black void inside my head.
“What? You got memory loss or somethin’?”
“Something,” I answer, then take a deep breath and try to force the vertigo away. I feel sick to my stomach. Weak.
“You’re lucky we let you in,” he continues, seemingly determined to make conversation. I’m grateful he opened the gates, but I’m not in the mood for small talk. I’m not in the mood for any sort of talk, actually.
There’s a pounding right between my eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it was but I was so panicked I didn’t notice it.
“Why did you let me in?” I ask, craning my neck upward to look at him. It’s the first time I notice how massive he is. Maybe nearing seven feet, and his girth is almost as wide. He’s probably a demon.
How I know any of this, I can’t say.
“You’re an angel,” he answers with a shrug, like the reason should be obvious. Well, nothing is obvious to me.
An angel. The word holds no meaning to me. It’s as foreign as my name, this stranger, Precinct Five, the voice inside my head…
“Did you check her for the markings?” A woman’s voice sounds from in front of us, and I glance up and into the face of an Opalite Demon.
How do I know what she is? I ask myself as I study the pearlescent quality of her skin. I don’t have any answers.
The woman is wearing form-fitting pants, combat boots, a sleeveless camouflage t-shirt, and a machine gun strapped across her chest. The only hint at her lack of humanity, aside from the fact that humans are extinct, is her eyes. Her orange pupils aren’t pupils at all—they take up the entirety of her eyes.
The guard mumbles something unintelligible and the woman responds with a frown, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stand in front of her. She’s tall, though not as tall as the demon guard. But she’s still a head or so taller than I am. And she’s uncommonly thin, with a long, narrow face, a generous nose, and wide lips.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” she asks, her triangular tongue coming out to swipe at her lower lip.
“Eilish,” I answer calmly. The pounding in my head is making me sick again.
“I’m Anona,” the woman responds. “And welcome to Precinct Five.” She takes a breath and studies me with a curious smile. Then, she rotates me around so quickly, I feel dizzy. “I just need to check you’re legal, otherwise we can’t have you here. But you already know that.”
I don’t know that, but I also don’t respond. Instead, I just stand there as she pulls my loose shirt up from my waist, all the way up until my stomach is in view. I pull it down to my belly button so I won’t risk flashing my breasts to no one in particular. The guard
is still behind me. Anona runs her fingertips across the skin of my upper back, then drops my shirt back down and she wheels me around so I’m facing her again. She nods.
“You’re legal, which means everything’s okay,” she says with a clipped smile. Thunder breaks out overhead as another onslaught of rain comes down even harder. She looks upward, appearing to notice the inclement weather for the first time.
“Let’s get you out of this rain,” she adds with a polished smile.
I can’t even feel it. “Okay,” I answer, allowing her to pull me up the now muddied road and into one of the handful of buildings that hasn’t been blasted into oblivion. The demon guard follows us.
I want to ask her what she meant by my being legal, but I can’t seem to open my mouth. It’s like my brain isn’t communicating with my body. Instead, the headache increases and pulses inside my head, feeling like larvae ready to pop out of my eyes.
“How did you end up here?” Anona asks. She holds the door open, and I walk into the dark room. A second or so later, a lightbulb flickers overhead and bathes us in artificial halogen light. I take stock of my surroundings and find a wooden table in the center of the room with four chairs. Anona motions to one of them and I sit down, feeling exhausted all the way to my toes. In the corner of the room is an unattended cot and a dirty-looking pillow. There are no windows.
“She don’t know anythin’. Her memory’s gone. Probably wiped so she can’t tell us nothin’,” the guard says from where he stands beside Anona. She looks at him with a discouraged expression before she sits down across from me and tries to smile. It looks more like a grimace.
“You don’t remember anything at all?” she asks, and I shake my head. She continues, “You don’t know why you were on the road or how you got there?”
I shake my head and wince as the pain behind my eyes becomes intolerable. “I… do you have anything for a headache?” I shield my eyes from the suddenly blaring light overhead.
“Hmm,” she mumbles, reaching forward and gripping my arm. She pushes my long, tattered and soaking wet sleeve all the way up to my elbow and nods once she spots the veins in my wrist, which travel up my arm in glowing neon-green branches.
“She’s going through withdrawals,” she announces to the guard, who doesn’t say anything. I don’t know when he did it, but he’s taken off his helmet so I can clearly see him. Not that I want to. With his scaly red skin, underslung jaw, beady black eyes, and the ten or so horns protruding from his head, he’s an ugly son of a bitch.
“Get the Atacomite,” she orders. He nods and turns around, hulking out of the doorway and disappearing into the pounding rain. “We’re going to get you fixed up real soon, gorgeous,” she says as she turns her attention back to me.
But I can barely register that she’s even there. Even though she’s sitting right across from me, it’s like I can’t concentrate on her—can’t see her. But I can see everything around her. Until the room starts spinning, and the headache along with it. I drop my head into my hands and squeeze my temples, trying to will the pain away. Or maybe I’m trying to shove my fingers through my skull so I can shred my brain.
“Just a few more seconds and the pain will be gone, gorgeous,” she assures me.
I don’t respond.
DOWNLOAD ANGEL!
BAD BLOOD
ONE
♀♥♂♂♂♂
EVERLY
The first step to the school of my dreams isn’t a step at all. It’s a train platform. Passengers of all types (from other dryads to sprites to pixies to nymphs) file into the waiting car. I’m not shown any deference and seeing as there aren’t many of my kind leaving for far off places, I’m the only one holding a suitcase. Most of the other passengers look like they’re off to work.
My future awaits and I take it eagerly, but there’s one final goodbye I need to make before entering Arcadia and the Academy of Enchantment Magic.
“Everly?” My mom’s strained voice causes me to turn around from the open sliding-glass doors. Her light green eyes shine with unshed tears as she hugs me one last time. Her straw hair bats at my face and the scent of cedar rush over my senses. “I’m so proud of you.”
The words hold finality. My dryad family is all I know, but I’m making my own way now. Away from the forest. Far from the safety of the Circle. My home. Sanctuary to all my kind. But I’ll return to my fellow dryads as an Enchanter. Someone to follow in the long line of protectors who call the forest their home.
“It’s not forever, mom.” I hug her back, knowing the light of her warmth will have to tide me over for a while.
“I know.” She holds me a moment longer and then releases me. Her green eyes sparkle as the soft breeze twirls the ends of her indigo dress. “But it’s the first time you’ll be out there… on your own.”
“This is where you’re supposed to say I’m all grown up now right?” I tease, already knowing she’s ecstatic to have her own daughter, one of the few dryads, besides the High Priestess, to further their education. Something few dryads are willing to do, but we (in the Circle) need.
Mom gives me one of her special smiles. One only meant for me.
I give her one last hug, fully aware of the possibility she’ll be the last dryad I see in the months to come.
“Go.” She swats my butt and I laugh as I turn to the train.
Without looking back, I head towards the car, trailing my bag behind me. It takes me a second to board, owing to the older woman in front of me. But once I’m aboard, I feel my anxiety start to settle as excitement takes over. This train will take me directly to the Academy of Enchantment and my ride is set to take five hours, a much longer trip than those going to and from work.
All the seats are mostly taken except at the very front. Never one afraid to sit at the front of the class, I step past a lady and sit by the one empty window seat and tuck my suitcase underneath me.
As a dryad, forest magic flows through me, but communing with nature requires… well, nature. My new home will be the beautiful spiral of the Enchanted castle in Arcadia. I’ll be able to see the oldest oak in the world, talk about new magic with the fae, and practice techniques with other students. I don’t expect to have time to grow my own nature Circle and even if I did, it wouldn’t be anything like the Circle at home. I laugh to myself as I think about making a forest that big, but a small, grassy knoll to sit and listen to the forest would still be nice.
The lady next to me smiles, pushes her silken, black hair aside and says, “Off to school?”
“Yeah.” I tuck a strand of my lavender hair behind my ear and keep my eyes down. I’m a bit shy when it comes to new people. And that’s something I will need to work on because I intend to make lots of friends at the Academy of Enchantment. It’s one of my resolutions—to come out of my shell and be more social.
“Which academy?” Her eyes are completely black, with no flecks of color. It gives her an eerie ambiance, but her smile is wide and genuine.
“Enchantment.” I can’t help my smile as I look up at her approving expression.
She nods. “It’s a good fit for dryads. You’ll do well there.”
Just before the doors close, a person-shaped shadow steps onto the train. This shadow-person is like seeing the aura of someone or the outline of a person, but not really seeing the face inside the shadowed shell.
Instantly, all my senses curl in on themselves. A ball of sickness, fear, and the taste of rot lodges in the pit of my stomach, and I double over in my seat. The passengers in the full car hastily part and make room as the shadow-person steps past everyone and heads towards the back of the car.
Full body shakes overtake me as the lady beside me gasps. Nausea and the absolute feeling of repulsion go straight to my head. My seatmate grabs my hand, and the overwhelming need to throw up abates. I take sips of air, letting my mind relax.
A wave of compassion, not mine, but from the lady beside me, washes away the spinning in my head. In my mind, I see he
r stirring pots, tending to the sick, and prescribing medicines to a host of patients. Her compassion rivals my own family of healers.
Witch doctor. She’s a witch doctor.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and a plume of heat warms my cheeks as visions of her daily life play in my head. I hope she won’t be angry with me for the intrusion, but the uncontrolled clairvoyance is the bane of my perfect school record.
“I’m sorry, dear.” Her expression lifts into concern. “I didn’t mean to touch you, it’s just…”
“No, no, thank you.” I try to smile, but feel it more as a grimace than a genuine grin.
She extricates herself and flashes a sneer at the back of the car. “Shadow demon. Nasty things.”
“That’s a shadow demon?” I don’t dare look back. Just thinking about the creature makes me feel sick all over again.
“Yes.” Her lips compress to a thin line. “I don’t know why it insists on being shadow dressed. No doubt it has something to hide.”
“Shadow dressed?”
I watch her straighten, pulling her hands closer to herself. “It’s what they call that…” She waves her hand towards the back of the train. “The aura thing. It’s them being shadow demony.”
Her term makes me laugh. But my amusement doesn’t last long. Even from the back of the aisle, residual pain seeps to the front. I cringe as the backs of my eyes prickle.
My passenger friend furrows her brow. “Is it true, dryads are empathic?”
I nod.
But it isn’t the whole truth.
Clairvoyance is the only class I didn’t get a grade of at least a ninety-eight percent. I still technically got an “A” in the class, but I never fully learned how to control the ability. Especially when someone touches me. Thing is, these flashes don’t happen all the time. Thus the reason for my ninety percent grade. I couldn’t control it.
My clairvoyance mishaps combined with my natural empathy as a dryad compounds my senses. Pain stabs at my head. “Why does it hurt so bad?”
