Fate of Flames

by Sarah Raughley

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  Don’t trust them. Natalya’s father had warned me, and for a second it seemed like Natalya’s ghost had too, appearing in the ancient chapel just to make sure I wouldn’t forget.

  I wouldn’t.

  And I definitely wasn’t going to forgive those assholes for the not-so-old wounds they’d torn open, all in the name of “assessing” me. Limp in the backseat of the Sect car, I pressed my hand against the growing pain in my chest. It couldn’t get any worse.

  I dialed Uncle Nathan again. And again.

  “Maia,” Rhys said, after I’d left my seventh message. “Sorry, Maia.” He sighed. “You won’t be able to contact your family during your training period. It’s a new rule. They say it’ll help with training.” He sounded skeptical. “I’m really sorry, but your uncle’s been told too. He . . . won’t be calling you back.”

  I stared blankly at the black screen of my phone.

  From: Maia F. neoqueenmaia@gomail.com

  To: Nathan Finley finleyn@gomail.com

  Date: Thursday, April 23 at 2:37 AM

  Subject: hi (Draft)

  Hey Uncle Nathan,

  It’s late here, so I’m just sending a quick e-mail to let you know I’m okay. Landed in London and now I’m safely inside my bedcovers with some hot chocolate and my laptop, which is all I ever wanted in life anyway. So all is good.

  Everything’s set up. They put my stuff in this housing complex in the east wing (because this place is huge enough to have an east wing). Seriously, it’s pretty sweet. London HQ is in Epping Forest, so there’s lots of trees around. The dorm’s a couple of floors, so there’s plenty of space. We’ve got a kitchen, a terrace, a jumbo TV screwed into the wall, and a closet full of new clothes I didn’t even buy myself. I feel like I’m being fattened up for the slaughter . . . heh.

  The girls are here too. Still can’t believe Belle Rousseau is breathing the same air as me. Chae Rin is terrifying but weirdly okay. I’m rooming with Lake. She’s got way too much stuff and her beauty products have annexed the bathroom, but she’s actually really nice . . . except she’s also really depressed. She can’t see her parents even though they live in town. Chae Rin’s depressed too. I can tell, though she’d probably rather die than admit it. I know her relationship with her parents is a bit complicated. . . .

  I can’t see you either. I can’t even e-mail you. You’ll never read this. Why am I writing it?

  Uncle, you said everything would be okay. You meant it, right?

  The truth is I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep can’t sleep can’t sleep. I wish I could call you. I don’t want to be alone. I wish you were here. I wish June were here. I wish wish wishwishwish.

  I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you’re my uncle, and if you say everything’s going to be okay, if you say it, then I’ll believe you. Okay?

  Please just tell me everything’s going to be okay. . . .

  There’s no point to this.

  THE YOGA PANTS I FOUND in my dresser cut off awkwardly at the bottom. It was chilly outside too. I pulled the strings of my hoodie, rubbing my legs so feverishly Lake suggested I use “the loo” before we started with the lesson.

  Sibyl’s orders. We had a schedule to follow, and apparently it involved a lack of sleep.

  We’d gone to a field on the west end of the facility. Though the sun was barely up, Lake was chatting excitedly about an old boyfriend—Carlos, a hot male model—though she was sharing quite a bit more detail than I was comfortable with. “Talk, Maia,” Lake said. “Trust me, the more we talk, the more heat we generate.” She nudged me in the ribs. “How about you? Any boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

  I shuffled my feet. “Nope. Forever alone.” The memory of being under Rhys’s umbrella slithered wickedly into my thoughts. I chased it away.

  “Single? Really?” Lake bent down; she had to in order to reach my eye level. “You’re so cute. Clean your skin up a bit, and you could definitely get it.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to sell me face cream by preying on my insecurities.”

  “Ooh, face cream! I have loads of it. You can just have it if you want. I got it all free anyway. Though a lot of it’s still back home.”

  She went quiet.

  I straightened out my back, eager to change the subject. “Well . . . since we’re here . . .”

  “Yes, training. Hmm, I thought Belle would be here too. I guess she’ll only be helping with your scrying thing. I thought she’d help out with the other stuff too, though.”

  So had I.

  “Chae Rin, you ready?”

  Chae Rin, who’d plunked herself down on a bench the moment she got here, answered Lake with the kind of noise a vicious animal might make if it were attempting to intimidate its prey while lying there bloated and dying. Her eyes sagged with dark circles. I couldn’t blame her. The coffee hadn’t even finished boiling by the time we were dragged out of the dorm by agents. Chae Rin had to leave her flask on the kitchen counter.

  “Okay, well, let’s start. Welcome to your first lesson in elemental training.” Lake grabbed the duffel bag by Chae Rin’s bench and took out a heart monitor. “Put this on. It’s a standard part of the training. It’s just to make sure you don’t overexert yourself.”

  I strapped it to my wrists and clicked it on. Once the LCD screen lit up, a small digital heart began beating steadily on the monitor. “You think I might overexert myself?”

  “It happens. I mean, the whole process of elemental training . . . it can definitely cause a little stress, you know? Especially when you’re just starting.”

  I turned my wrist over. “So . . . what is it like? Making fire or ice out of nothing?”

  “What is it like?” Lake placed her hands on her hips. “It’s kind of like . . . er, what is it like, Chae Rin?” She turned. “Hey!”

  Lake kicked the bench just as Chae Rin had begun to snore.

  “What? How should I know?” Chae Rin rolled onto her back, legs dangling off the edge of the bench.

  “You’re supposed to be helping Maia too, you know.”

  “But I’m cranky and tired.” She sat up, propping her arm over one knee. “Plus she’s probably too slow to get it anyway, so who cares?”

  “Hey!”

  “It’s Sibyl’s orders, remember? We train her.” Lake flicked strands of hair out of her eyes. “Besides, you could use a little training yourself, or so I hear. Didn’t you nearly level, like, an entire city once?”

  Chae Rin opened and closed her mouth several times, her cheeks flaring red. “Completely, totally exaggerated. Besides, what about you, Victoria? You barely passed your training. Didn’t you try to fake an injury so you could bolt?”

  Lake huffed. “So? Who cares? Anyway, I definitely did a good job with my elemental training. I worked bloody hard on that, you know.”

  I didn’t doubt her. After all, we were both alive today because of it. “Guess we could all use some work,” I said. “Except Belle. Can you believe she killed twelve phantoms her first mission alone?”

  Wrong thing to say. They were on me in a flash.

  “So you’re basically saying Belle’s better than us, eh?” Chae Rin tilted her head. “But then, you are Princess Belle’s personal fangirl, aren’t you? Don’t know why I’m surprised.”

  “No.” I waved my hands in lieu of a white flag. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Geez, Maia, that’s kind of mean.” Lake kicked the grass. “It probably does help her that she has more experience than us, you know.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Anyway,” Lake said rather loudly, “back to training. Your job today is to try to create fire. There’s no real science to it, though. You just have to feel it. Think of it like . . .” Lake paused. “Like the power is actually outside of you. It’s not, but just pretend it is. Close your eyes and picture yourself pulling it into your body.”

  Shutting her eyes, Lake drew in a d
eep, serene breath. “Trap and release. That’s what I was taught. Trap the power, release the power as fire.”

  I frowned. “But . . . how do I trap? How do I release? Release it where?”

  “Like I said,” said Lake, a little sharply, “you have to feel it. Just relax.” She lifted a hand, the palm upturned. “And bring it in.”

  The chilled air began to move around me, gaining momentum by the second until, in a flash, the breeze became a powerful gust that knocked me off my feet. The duffel bag tumbled over the side of the bench. Chae Rin grabbed the edges of the wood to keep herself from following suit, but she ended up losing her grip and falling anyway.

  An instant later, the wind died down, and the air was calm again. “Sorry ’bout that,” said Lake with a cute shrug.

  Chae Rin moaned.

  Brushing myself off, I got back to my feet. “So, uh, just concentrate, huh, Lake?”

  “Yep. Bring on the flames.”

  Lake winked and stepped back several paces, maybe to protect herself. But she needn’t have. I concentrated. Nothing happened. For almost an hour, Lake tried to coach me through the block, but nothing she suggested worked. Meditation, visualization, even a few laps around the field. I was a hell of a lot sweatier, but aside from that, nothing. Not even a spark.

  “This is ridiculous,” I said, panting facedown on the grass.

  “You’re ridiculous.” Chae Rin yanked weeds out of the dirt. “It’s really not that hard.”

  “You’re new at this.” Lake knelt down next to me. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s okay if you don’t get it on the first try.”

  “You know what the problem is.” Chae Rin got to her feet. “Not enough adrenaline.”

  “I’ve been running around for the past ten minutes.” I sat up and rubbed my thighs.

  “Not the right kind of adrenaline. You need a good fight.” Chae Rin grabbed my arm rather painfully and heaved me back to my feet. “Fight me.”

  The two words leached the warmth from my skin. I could already feel the imminent breaking of my rib cage. The heart rate number on my monitor climbed accordingly.

  “No, thanks.”

  “That wasn’t a request.”

  Chae Rin shoved me—just one push—and I flew black.

  “Ow! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Running won’t do it, but fighting will. That adrenaline you feel when you’re inches away from death, like your foot might not touch that high wire . . .” She relished the thought. “Fight me and you’ll bring that fire out real quick. Well, you’ll have to if you want to live.”

  My jaw dropped. “You’re crazy!”

  “No . . . no, she might have a point.” Lake giggled as I shot her an incredulous look. “Let’s just see where this goes.”

  “Consider it a demonstration,” Chae Rin said very sweetly before launching at me.

  I barely had time to scramble to my feet before Chae Rin kneed me in the stomach and sent me crashing back to the ground.

  Chae Rin rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, get up!”

  I did, but to run. Chae Rin was insane. The lack of sleep and caffeine had finally whittled down her senses until she was nothing more than a raging girl beast. I managed to make it past the bench when the ground rose below me, bursting out and sending me soaring. After a rough landing, I rolled over on the ground, rubbing my sides, but it wasn’t over. I blanched at the sight of the jagged pulpit of dirt and soil jutting out of the grass.

  “Trap and release,” Chae Rin said with a cute finger wave before stomping the ground. A wet mass of soil launched up at her feet. Catching it, she lobbed it at me. I ducked, gasping when I saw the missile dent a tree a few feet away.

  “This is not training!” I swiped the hair from my eyes. “This is attempted murder!”

  “Feel the adrenaline,” said Lake, from behind a tree. “Bring it out! Come on!”

  But I couldn’t. Finding my footing, I backed away. “This is stupid! You know what? I’m . . . I’m telling Sibyl!”

  Chae Rin doubled over laughing. “Savior of Earth, ladies and gentlemen. Well done!”

  “Oh, yeah?” I wasn’t thinking when I yelled, “Then I’m telling Belle!”

  I honestly didn’t know why I’d said it. Maybe because I knew it’d piss her off, which made it all the more stupid. Chae Rin stopped laughing, her lips sinking into a scowl.

  “Belle? Oh, you’re telling Belle?”

  I threw my hands up in an apologetic plea. “I was kidding.”

  “And what authority does Belle have?” I could practically see steam rising out of her ears. “Where’s she, anyway? How come the agents didn’t drag her ass out here? Like she’s too good to bother with the rest of us? Is that it? Ugh!”

  Chae Rin punched the ground and it cracked immediately. The trembling earth split at my feet, sliding my legs apart. Before I could fall into the fissure, I jumped to the side, rolling in the grass. Lake clung to her tree like a raft in the middle of the ocean.

  “God, she is so infuriating.” Chae Rin huffed, blowing her hair out of her eyes as the ground stopped shaking. “You know what? Screw this. I’m going back to bed.”

  With her hands in her pockets, she walked away, leaving me and Lake to stare at the brand-new fault she’d made.

  • • •

  “Light.”

  Alone in my dark room, I sat by the window with a brass candlestick in my hands, my middle finger linked through the handle.

  “Light now!” I waited for the candle wick to erupt in flame. “Come on!”

  Still nothing. After slamming the candlestick down upon the window ledge, I buried my face in my hands.

  I was an Effigy, and I couldn’t even use my power. Lake and Chae Rin’s careers may have had a few hiccups along the way, but they could deliver. I, on the other hand? I was a defective product waiting for recall, and judging by the mood at the Cathedral, it wouldn’t be surprising if the Sect’s High Council decided to cut their losses and start over with another girl. One who could actually do her job.

  Cut their losses . . .

  I thought of Natalya reaching out to me, a ghost of a memory hidden from the Council’s unforgiving gaze.

  Had they cut their losses with Natalya, too?

  I couldn’t shake away the memory of Mrs. Filipova’s grief, or the disdain on Natalya’s father’s face as he spat out his warning. Natalya was arguably one of the best Effigies in history: a legend. I didn’t want to even imagine it, but the seed of dread sprouting in the pit of my stomach was impossible to quash.

  I pressed a hand against the skeleton key around my neck, the old pewter cold against my chest. I’d watched Natalya die. There had to be more to the story, but without any kind of guidance, scraps and ghosts were all I had. I needed reliable, structured access to Natalya’s memories. Scrying would give me that, but Belle had barely said a word to me since we’d arrived in London.

  I’d just have to take matters into my own hands.

  Lake was fast asleep, and quiet, but she was a slight sleeper, so I’d have to be quieter. Tiptoeing past her in the fuzzy, cute slippers she’d lent me, I creaked open the door and started toward Belle’s room. Our “dorm” was more like a round, two-story apartment with all the bedrooms located on the second level, along with a set of glass doors that led to a terrace outside. The floor up here was a wide strip of polished wood that went all the way around the curved walls, separated from the center space by an iron railing. Beyond the railings, I could see the front door, the living room, and the kitchen below in one open area on the main floor. It was a nice place, kept clean because of Lake’s nagging.

  “Belle?”

  Before I could reach her room, I saw her through the glass doors of the terrace. She was painting. Or rather, she’d just begun to paint. Serenely, Belle considered the canvas on the easel in front of her as if she didn’t know where her brush should strike first. A gentle breeze ruffled through her long, plain white dress.

  I
pushed open the doors carefully, almost reverently. “Um, Belle?” When she didn’t answer, I bit my lip. “Do . . . do you always paint at night?”

  Belle didn’t look up. “Only when it’s cold.”

  And cold it was. Even in my thick, cotton pajamas, I could feel the chill snaking up my arms. Silently, I watched Belle paint her first stroke. I still couldn’t believe it; I was living in a dorm with Belle Rousseau. Belle Rosseau: the girl whose action figure I’d have dozens of if they actually existed. I sucked in a breath, gathering my courage.

  “Belle,” I said, “wh-when do you think you’ll start . . . um . . . teaching me how to . . . um . . .” I forgot the word.

  “Scry.”

  “Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. “Remember, Sibyl wants me to find out about Saul through this Marian person.”

  “I know.”

  Belle continued painting.

  “Well . . .” I shuffled from one foot to another, not surprised, but still kind of discouraged, to see that Belle still hadn’t glanced at me once. “When do we start?”

  “Scrying is a very unwieldy art. I’m still considering the best way to teach you.”

  So never. I tried to keep from being buried under my own pessimism, but it was clear that, for some reason, Belle didn’t see the matter as urgently as I did.

  “Well, I do have a question, since you’re here.” After taking Belle’s lack of response as an invitation, I leaned against the glass doors and continued. “I have been ‘scrying’ a bit on my own. I mean, I’ve been seeing things. Memories. Mostly Natalya’s.”

  Belle’s hand froze in midair. “Is that so?” She lowered her arm.

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t help but notice the brush tremble, just slightly, in Belle’s grip. “I’ve been getting bits and pieces of her memories.”

  “Natalya’s memories will always be the freshest, since she was the last Effigy before you. The others before her will be more difficult to discern—like tangled yarn.”

  “But most of the time when I’m in Natalya’s memories, it’s like . . . like I’m her. And she’s me.” I touched my chest as I remembered my own lungs fighting for air while Natalya lay dying on the carpet. I shook my head. “I hate it.”