“But I wasn’t the first.” I say, truth dawning on me. “Benedict was.”
Hilda and Alice stare at me with wide eyes. The pieces of the puzzle finally come together to form a comprehensive picture, and I feel almost relieved. ‘I wasn’t planning on killing that night… or ever killing again, for that matter,’ he had said.
“Benedict’s healing powers had evolved to the point where he didn’t have to kill after healing, or so he had hoped. But he fucked up, he wasn’t as strong as he thought. He lost control and took that innocent woman’s life, and you three covered for him.”
“You’ll never be able to prove that,” “Beatrice says, crossing her arms. “And if you do, Rafael will just kill you both.”
“You speak of Rafael as if he is evil.” Kismet whispers.
“That’s because he is, girl,” Alice says, her voice steady for the first time. Even now, in my current state of lucid bewilderment, I feel a little rush of complacency when Alice confirms what I suspected all along. “You don’t know him.” She continues. “None of you do. You don’t know what he’s capable of, what I’ve seen him do.” She shudders and covers her face with her hands.
It makes sense. It all makes sense. “We have to escape,” I say, pacing back and forth throughout the cave, feeling like I’m drowning in fire. “Before he kills me.”
Kismet stares at me like she’s been struck.
“Finally you get it.” Beatrice says. “We have put together some money for both of you.” She takes out a white, crumpled envelope from her jeans pocket.
“There’s a thousand dollars inside and a piece of paper with the address of a friend of mine. She specializes in ritual magic and can offer you both some protection as you go in hiding.”
“Protection from what?” Kismet asks, her face blank. I take the envelope and put it in my pocket.
“From our tribe.” I answer her. “They’ll try to track us down.”
“My friend’s magic is extremely powerful.” Beatrice says. “. No witch will be able to see where you are; nobody will be able to find you. She’ll also give you a fake identity so you can live somewhere and get a job and try to have a normal life.”
I inhale sharply. Run away. Get fake identities. Get jobs… live outside in the normal, human world. Jesus fucking Christ, I haven’t done normal in ten years. I exhale. My temples are thumping, and my surroundings are starting to spin again. Run away. Yes, okay, I can do that. We can do that. We can run away.
“No one has ever fled the tribe before,” Kismet says in a whisper. “The punishment for running away is death.”
“Which is what I’ll get anyway if I stay here.” I tell her. I give Beatrice a hug before I can stop myself. She tenses at first, but then she hugs me back. “You’ve saved my life, Beatrice. I owe you everything for this.”
She pulls away and gives me a tiny smile. “What are friends for?”
Suddenly, Alice cries out. I take a few steps back as she starts convulsing, her arms flapping wildly around her. Hilda and Beatrice run to her side and pin her arms to her chest, holding her still. Then she arches back unnaturally, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.
I am frozen in place, unable to look away.
“What’s happening?” Kismet yells.
The red orb expands and grows larger, pulsing brightly and rhythmically, like a heart. It gives off a wave of crimson every time it beats, and they bounce off every surface of the room. I grab Kismet and throw her to the floor, falling down beside her and covering her face with my arms. A wave crashes into the side of my arm, scorching my skin. I curse and look down at my blistered skin.
Alice’s body goes limp in Hilda’s and Beatrice’s embrace, and then, slowly, she opens her eyes. “He knows.” She whispers, a faint sheen of sweat covering her features. She points a shaky finger at me. “The Prophetess saw.” Then she faints. Hilda and Beatrice can’t carry her weight any longer, and her limp body falls to the ground.
“Shit.” Beatrice says, swallowing hard. “She must have seen it now that she’s in close proximity to the tribe.” She turns to me. “Run, Daniel.” She says. “Leave now.”
I don’t think about it twice.
I take off, running to my room like the whole damn place is about to collapse. Forget the pain, forget the third-degree burn—forget everything but the now.
Kismet follows me closely. We pass a few people on our way. Some look at us curiously, while others seem annoyed. Nobody runs inside Agartha; it’s considered rude. We reach our room, and I take a backpack out of my suitcase, throwing in a change of clothes before zipping it closed.
“Let’s go.” I say, but Kismet doesn’t move. She has tears in her eyes.
“Come on, Kismet. We have to go.” I urge her, but she just gives me a tiny shake of her head.
“Don’t worry, we can do this.” I hug her tightly, but she pushes me away.
“I’m not going.”
Her words fall flat to the floor.
“What?” I say stupidly, the meaning of her words not quite sinking in.
“I can’t go with you.” She repeats. “I belong here.”
“You don’t mean that,” I say simply. “You’re just scared.”
She looks at me unblinkingly, her face as hard as stone except for the tears. “Go, Daniel.”
I look at her for what feels like a lifetime, but I don’t feel pain. I can’t feel anything right now. She looks back at me, her amber eyes filling up with fresh tears. Her mouth is set in a thin line, and her eyebrows are furrowed together. I know that look. It’s a look of grim determination.
I don’t stand a chance.
I don’t tell her how much I love her, how much she means to me. I don’t beg for her to please, please, please come with me, or try to make her realize what a huge mistake she’s making. I don’t swear I’ll protect her forever, or remind her of everything we have gone through together these past six years.
I can’t.
She’s choosing the tribe over me.
“Daniel.” She says, and her lips begin to tremble, but she does not move. “I’m sorry. I’ll love you forever.”
I turn around, my soul torn to pieces, and run away without saying goodbye.
The Escape
I hear the Morning Horn echo through the passageways of Agartha, and I am still in control of my senses enough to realize that this is strange, that it’s night-time, that it’s not supposed to be happening. None of this is supposed to be happening.
Yet still I run through the dark tunnels, focusing my mind and energy solely on getting out of here alive. I see the copper gate that leads to the other entryway in Beacon Hill, and I run up the stairs as fast as I can. It feels like my heart stops when I see Rafael standing at the entrance door with a short guard by his side. I stand in front of him.
“Now where do you think you’re going, Daniel?” He says, eyes flashing and mouth turned up at the sides. For a moment, I hesitate. I’ve never spoken to him, so his use of my name throws me off. But then I notice there’s a strange type of rage in his eyes directed entirely at me. I don’t have time to answer, or to think. I have to act, and act fast.
I take out my knife and throw it straight at Rafael’s head. I hadn’t had time to unarm myself when I got here, and thank my lucky stars for that. His eyes widen in surprise, but he ducks in the nick of time, the knife grazing his head and banging against the copper gate behind him. He snarls, but I don’t back down.
I charge toward them and punch the guard in the face with all the strength I’ve got. He cries out and falls to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose. Then I grab him by the collar and throw his body toward Rafael. They topple over, and I take advantage of this and quickly pick up my knife and open the gate, ready to run for my life.
But at the last moment, Rafael grabs me by the arm, right on my burn. I scream. It feels like someone is pressing a red-hot tong to my skin. I turn around and meet Rafael’s eyes, his lips pulled back and teeth bared in
uncontained rage.
“You won’t escape me, Daniel.” He says through gritted teeth. Ignoring the pain, I grab the knife with my other hand and stab him with it, right in the middle of his hand. He yells and lets me go, grabbing on to his hand as blood pours out, seeping through his fingers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see other people approaching the gate through the darkness. They’re coming to chase me down. I slam the copper gate shut and run toward the exit through the dark, labyrinthic tunnels, reaching the ladder that leads up to Beacon Hill in half the time it normally takes me. I climb three rungs at a time and push the manhole cover off in one blow.
The cool night breeze touches my skin. I have to escape, but to where? I pull the envelope from my pocket, my fingers shaking, my breath coming out in small, sharp bursts. I take out the crumpled piece of paper from the envelope and read a name and an address on it. Morgana, it states simply, along with a street name and house number of a place in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
I put the envelope and crumpled piece of paper in my backpack and zip it shut. I have to get to a bus station, quick. They wouldn’t dare attack me in a bus, or any place near humans. I am about to run away when I hear footsteps and whispers coming from the manhole, and I feel the hot, angry instinct to fight surging within me.
“Where do you think he went?” A voice I don’t recognize says.
“I don’t know, but he can’t be far.” Another voice says, and this one I do recognize. It’s Henrick’s.
That son of a bitch.
I knew he’d turn against me the moment he had the chance.
I pick up the cover of the manhole, waiting for one of them to stupidly pop their head up. Someone has to be dumb enough to do it. Then one does pop up, and it’s Henrick.
“Daniel, wait—” He begins to say, his eyes wide in surprise, but I don’t let him finish. I take the cover and slam it on his head with barely contained anger, hoping the impact will kill him. That’s one death I won’t feel guilty about. He stumbles down the stairs, and I hear people hollering and yelling as they fall on top of each other.
“Traitor.” I whisper before putting the cover back in place.
I stand up and run toward the main terminal, Seattle’s most crowded bus station.
As I run, I go over the route in my head, as if it were a drill. I know all the roads of Seattle by memory. I have to take Beacon Ave South and then cross over to South Holgate Street, then run up until I reach the terminal. It’s a long run, but I should be able to do it. I have no choice.
Shadows run alongside me. I look to my right, and I see a large man dressed in black. An Immortal. Then I look to my left and see another one. He smiles.
My heart rate picks up as I realize I am not done fighting for my life yet. I have no time to think about how they found me. All I can think about right now is surviving.
This is definitely not my day.
They close in on me like wolves. I try to run faster, but it’s not enough. Immortals are fast, sometimes faster than us. The desperate thought crosses my mind that I’m not going to make it.
Then I trip on a rock and fall forward, the asphalt scraping the right side of my face. I turn around and pull my knives out, my back against the ground, and watch them descend on me.
They land on me like two massive bulls, dealing blows meant to kill. I elude them and slash left and right. I can’t see anything other than the huge bulk of their bodies on me, but suddenly I feel someone wrench one of my knives from my hand.
A second later, one of the Immortals grunts and rolls over to the side, blood dripping out of his mouth. I blink back sweat and blood and see that the black handle of my own knife is sticking out of his back. One tiny hand pulls it out and slits the throat of the other Immortal, too quickly for either of us to react.
Someone pushes the dead body to the side, and then I see a mat of red hair and amber eyes staring into mine. It’s Kismet. She’s breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down, completely drenched in sweat.
“I guess knives do come in handy, after all.” She says, holding out my knife to me.
I get up and take it, putting both blades back inside their sheaths. I wipe my face with my sleeve, unsure of what to say.
“Rafael has already told everyone that you murdered an innocent and are on the run.” She says, her eyes on the two dead Immortals on the ground instead of on me.
“News travel fast in Agartha.” I say, voice cold.
She nods uncomfortably, still unable to face me. “Henrick wanted to escape with you. He and a couple of other kids.”
Oh.
“Too late for that.” I mumble, feeling awful for what I did.
“He’s okay.” Kismet says, answering an unspoken question. “Just a bump, nothing major.”
“I suppose I didn’t crash that metal lid on top of his head as hard as I thought,” I say. “Tell him I’m sorry, would you?”
She nods. We stare at each other for a moment until we both look away.
“They’ll be here in a second,” she says. “The ones Rafael sent to catch you. Outrunning them was a bitch.”
“You were always the fastest of us all.” My chest aches when I realize this will be the last time I see her. I don’t even know what I’ll do without her. I don’t even know if I’ll survive.
She attempts to smile. “You should go. I’ll tell them you killed these two Immortals and escaped.”
I want to tell her I love her, one last time, like she said to me, but my throat tightens and I can’t speak. Instead, I lean in and grab her face, giving her one last, clumsy kiss. She looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears, and then smiles. “I’ll miss you.”
Despite the fact that I now feel like lying down on the ground until I die, I manage to give her one last rueful smile. Something she can remember me by. “Take care, babe.” My voice breaks. Tears fall down her face as her nose scrunches up, and I kiss both of her cheeks, tasting her tears one last time.
Blood Magic
It takes me three days to reach Minneapolis. I only stop once at a motel, to shower, get some gauze for my burn and ointment for the cuts and bruises on my face, sleep a few hours, and load up on junk food. And it’s a restless stop at that. I know Rafael is probably forcing Beatrice and the other witches to tell him where I’m going. It would be easier for them to detect where I am if I use my powers.
So I don’t. Really, there’s nothing forcing me to use my powers ever again. It’s a strange thought, but one that I don’t dwell on too much. Not now. I can’t sleep well because all the time, I’m thinking that Rafael and other Sun-Children are just around the corner, ready to take me down.
Maybe Rafael, maybe even Henrick. I turn my knives over and over again in my hands, ready to use them if I have to. I think about buying a gun with the money I have, but decide against it since I’d probably need some form of ID to do that.
I really hope Henrick is doing okay. I can’t believe he was willing to escape with me, him—the boy who I always teased and treated like an annoying little brother—and not Kismet, the girl who I thought was the love of my life. It takes everything inside me to not let waves of emotion break through the walls I’ve managed to build around myself.
I don’t sleep. I don’t care if the lack of it makes me dizzy or dries out my eyes. Somehow, I manage to survive on junk food…chips and cookies and shit like that. There’s not enough bathroom breaks, but I deal.
It’s nighttime when I reach Minneapolis, and the first thing I do when I get off the bus is hail a cab. I’m not wasting any time in reaching this Morgana person. The faster I get this supposed protection from her, the better. I give the crumpled piece of paper with Morgana’s address on it to the cab driver, and he stares at it for a moment before nodding and giving it back to me. It’s a silent ride.
The taxi weaves its way through the streets of the city, finally reaching the downtown.
Suddenly, I feel homesick, not only for Seattle, but for Agartha,
the shit-hole I suppose I happen to love, in a way. I don’t think of Kismet anymore. If I’m going to do this, I can’t afford to think of her right now. Run away. Survive. That’s my only objective.
The cab driver parks in front of a large, colonial-looking building with faded paint and cracks on its walls. I pay him and get out, thinking only of the mysterious witch who does ritual magic. I don’t let myself think any further than that.
I type the numbers that are on the piece of paper into the intercom.
703.
“Yes?” a husky female voice answers.
“It’s Daniel Maze,” I say. “A friend of Beatrice’s?” I add when she doesn’t answer. I stand there awkwardly, not knowing what else to tell her. What if I got the wrong place? What if Beatrice messed up and gave me the wrong directions? What if I can’t find this Morgana person at all and I’ll be doomed to roam the earth alone, always on the run, always fearing that someday someone will sneak up behind me and make me eat it? My hands and temples start to sweat.
Then she buzzes me in.
I let out a breath and walk inside, reminding myself not to freak the fuck out. I need every inch of myself—my thoughts, emotions, and actions—to be under control, or else I won’t make it.
The inside of the building is battered and decayed. There’s mold on the corners of the floors and on the roof. The elevator doors open mysteriously before I touch the button. I walk in slowly, looking around the empty building before getting in. The elevator doors close, and the thing starts going up, as if powered by…well, by magic, I guess.
Which is more than a little nerve-wracking at this point.
The elevator stops at the seventh floor, and the doors open, revealing a large, Amazonian-looking woman staring back at me. She puts her hands on the elevator doors to stop them from closing. “You Daniel Maze?”
The Sun Child (The Sun Child Saga Book 1) Page 9
