by S McPherson
‘Dezaray Storm!’
I freeze. Did someone just call me? As in me – by my actual name? The ground continues to tremble, the booms continue to rage. What little knowledge I possess is obliterated; I can’t make sense of anything.
‘Dezaray Storm!’
That is my name…isn’t it? Three sets of wide eyes gape at me and I know I’m not imagining things; the others heard it too. Another explosion and the sound of cries cause us to leap from our seats and rush into the street. Others tumble out into the night, charging towards the commotion.
The scene is unsightly. People are screaming and running for cover, ducking, weaving and throwing themselves on the ground to avoid flying debris as it zigzags through the air. Black smoke clogs the sky and anything visible appears to be in flames.
Four men, all in black, their skin so pale it’s almost translucent, their eyes dark pools of ebony move through the town square. Vampires, I realise as their fangs flash.
One of them skips to the front, humming an erratic tune. He holds something in his hand, and with no hesitation, launches it at a nearby bench. BOOM! Tremble! The bench is gone; just a pile of smouldering ash remains.
‘Get behind me,’ Milo hisses, dragging me to one side and crouching down. Yvane and Howard follow suit.
‘They know your name,’ Yvane gasps, her eyes transfixed on the enemy – on me.
I’m paralysed by fear; no longer producing saliva, my mouth dries up; no longer able to blink, my eyes stare blankly into the distance. My mind’s racing but oddly no actual thought runs through it. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.
‘Dezaray Stoorrm,’ the prancing vampire coos.
‘Dezaray Storm of London born,’ yells another, ‘yada-yada, blather, blather.’ The vampires hoot like a group of intoxicated teenagers.
‘Corporeal, Corporeal,’ another takes over. These vampires appear to be extremely pleased with themselves. ‘No. No, I have a better one,’ he amends giddily. ‘Dezaray Storm of London born, come into the light, we won’t bite…well…actually...’ his eyes seem to flash as he bares his fangs.
The estranged laughter ensues once more.
Then lightning streaks across the sky, a flash of white highlighting the town square before it’s once again plunged into darkness and flames. A violent gust of wind sends us, the vampires and anyone nearby tumbling through the air. Milo grabs hold of a street lamp and I grab onto his leg. A tornado spins in our direction. The vampires jump up and dust themselves off, seemingly ready for a fight as they hiss and snarl at the whirlwind.
At last it stops. The wind dies down. Arrayed before the vampires, hover five cloaked visitors, their emerald robes shimmering occasionally in the moonlight and reflecting the fire. I watch as the vampires continue to growl and sneer.
‘Why have you come here?’ bellows one of the hooded men.
Milo takes my hand and we creep closer, remaining low to the ground and as out of sight as possible. My hair is strewn across my face. With each step I take, it shudders like the cold caress of a dead finger.
‘Who are they?’ I whisper. My voice hoarse.
‘The Courts of Coldivor.’
I jolt, not knowing whether to be relieved or even more terrified.
‘This is not your season, why have you come?’ yells another member of the court. ‘You claim Taratesia! Melaxous is ours!’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ a vampire calls back, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘Your little Corporeal, however, didn’t honour said agreement, snooping about where they don’t belong.’
The Court member frowns. ‘What untruth do you speak?’ he barks.
The vampires cackle.
‘You really have no idea?’ They watch the members of the court with unveiled amusement. I feel myself flush. ‘Well now, this doesn’t seem fair.’
‘Look, all we want is the Corporeal. We’ve got a score to settle,’ shrieks the prancing vampire. ‘She looks an awful lot like someone important. Hand her over, you’ll see what we mean.’
With that, they each toss their final bomb, sending everyone, including the Court, diving for cover as brick and mortar cascade down. About to retaliate, the Court is angered to find the vampires gone.
When at last the smoke clears, people start to resurface, coughing, ashen and scared.
‘My fellow Coltis, this is serious,’ a court member announces. He’s younger than I imagined with a thick brown beard and bushy eyebrows currently knotted in the middle of his forehead. ‘If anyone knows anything of what the vampires speak then step forward now. If a Corporeal truly lives amongst us, it is imperative they reveal themselves, not just for the safety of us but for their own, too.’
‘And if no Corporeal resides here then who do the Vildacruz seek?’ queries another. ‘Any insight, anything at all, is urged.’
The silence seems to stretch the length of an ocean. I feel myself step forward, but a hand on my elbow draws me back. I turn to Milo who mutely shakes his head. Revealing myself now, in the midst of all this, is apparently not an option.
My body collapses on the couch in Lexovia’s little cottage lounge. Milo’s in the kitchen with Yvane. I can hear their murmured voices and hushed whispers but don’t attempt to make sense of them. I’m shaken, unable to offer any assistance, and Howard has been put on security duty, occasionally eyeing me over the magazine he’s pretending to read.
‘They know Dezaray is here which means Lexovia is not,’ Yvane is saying as she wanders out of the kitchen with a plate of oddly shaped biscuits. ‘I don’t see another way, we have to go to the court.’
‘After all the trouble we’ve caused,’ Milo is protesting, ‘they’ll never understand.’
‘How were we to know Lexovia would get left behind?’ Yvane reasons. ‘It was an honest mistake.’
Milo scoffs. ‘We stole the book, we made an illegal device, we crossed into another world and then we left behind the most powerful Coltis in Coldivor, and we didn’t even mention it. How honest does that sound to you?’ Milo roughly plonks down a tray holding a teapot—though I’m not sure it’s tea when I spy the abundance of leaves protruding from the teacups—and sends hot water splashing everywhere. Then, slumping down beside me, clasps my hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I squelch the urge to throw up – no reassurance given.
‘Entirely dishonest,’ Yvane concedes, slouching onto the carpet by the coffee table and tentatively dunking a biscuit in her cup of hot water and leaves. ‘We can’t just sit here on such mammoth information, though.’
‘The portal opens in six days,’ Milo says.
‘Last time we had this conversation it was two days,’ Howard nearly growls. He tosses aside the magazine, his lethal muscles threatening to rip through his skin. He’s clearly heard enough. ‘And that would be six days we are vulnerable to the Vildacruz and only we truly understand exactly how vulnerable that is. We’re playing with fire here, Milo, and you know what they say, if we keep it up, we’re all going to burn.’
‘No, we won’t. I won’t let that happen.’ Milo retorts. There’s urgency in his tone I don’t quite understand. Surely the Courts of Coldivor finding me is better than the Vildacruz? ‘We just need to stall,’ he insists, ‘and if the Courts do have to know, let’s at least tell them when we have a solution.’
‘And you believe Lexovia waltzing back through the portal unprotected is a solution?’ Howard scoffs.
‘We will be there. We will protect her,’ Milo vows.
The conversation continues in such vain for an unknown amount of time. My lips remain pressed together, my eyes shooting from one angered or distressed face to another.
There’s no end to the circle of reasons but at last, they decide to sleep on it, to see how we all feel in the morning, and Howard and Yvane grudgingly leave. There were two votes for telling the Courts of Coldivor everything, one categorically to do the opposite and one bumbling Barney who didn’t know if she was coming or going; that was me.
&n
bsp; The idea of returning home, to Drake, to carpentry, to the mundane misery that is my life, fills me with dread. But now the place where I felt most comfortable, the place where I felt I could finally be happy, finally belong, has turned to a worse fate than that. Though without Milo, I doubt either world will truly do.
Milo sags at the opposite end of the couch, massaging the soles of my feet. I rest my head on the back of the sofa and close my eyes. Flashes of all I’ve experienced in the past few weeks’ dart across my mind. I try to smile, thankful for the memories, but instead, the bitter taste of impending expiration clings to the back of my throat. Six days are all I have left. Six days and it’s really over. Not that I’d miss nights like this one.
A harsh pounding on the door startles me and we both jump. The thumping loud enough to rival the cacophony in my head.
‘Who could that be?’ I lazily drag my legs from Milo.
‘Stay here,’ he instructs as he cautiously ambles towards the door, pulling it ajar.
‘Milo Thor. You are being summoned by the Courts of Coldivor, from the highest member to all those who follow below,’ says a man’s voice.
‘I’m sorry?’ Milo says. I walk up behind him and peer over his shoulder. A group of young hooded men in gleaming emerald cloaks are at the door: members of the court.
‘Milo Thor. You are being summoned by the Courts of Coldivor, from the highest member to all those who follow below,’ the man repeats without expression. ‘Should you choose to resist, we have orders to use force. Do you come willingly?’
‘What’s this about?’ Milo asks, puffing up his shoulders and standing protectively in front of me.
‘Do you come willingly?’ This is the first time the man makes eye contact, showing any emotion, and it is not pleasant.
Milo stares back for a moment too long.
‘Yes,’ I cry, ‘of course he’s willing.’
I nudge Milo hurriedly out through the door. ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’
The men go to escort Milo but he shirks off their hands and stalks ahead of them. They soon flank him on either side, somehow seeming like his protectors. As if Milo summoned them; a king and his legion. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
After they disappear through the shield and into the barren land of Melaxous, I pace back and forth for what feels like days. My stomach is in knots. At every sound, I race to the windows and peer into darkness. Surely it must be him. My feet tap impatiently on the floor, my arms folded, munching anxiously on my bottom lip. I try to sit down but in seconds I’m standing, once again pacing aimlessly about the room. At last there’s a swirl of blue and Milo stands in front of me.
‘Oh, thank goodness,’ I exhale. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We have to go.’ He charges into the bedroom, gathers up a few belongings and thrusts them in my rucksack which he then throws over his shoulder.
‘What?’ I shriek as he grabs hold of me.
‘We have to go now.’
Before I have chance to ask any more questions I’m being transported from Lexovia’s cabin.
We materialise in the tree house; the echo of a clash and a faint trace of blue still linger in the air.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask.
‘The court knows,’ Milo tells me. He scours the forest around us through the arched windows before shutting the blinds. ‘They know everything.’
‘How?’
‘Howard and Yvane, that’s how,’ he growls. ‘They ratted us out.’
‘No!’ I gasp, ‘they wouldn’t.’
‘They did.’ Milo lights some candles and places them strategically about the room.
‘What did the court say?’ I wander over to the tatty couch and perch on its edge.
Milo, clearly too agitated to sit down, remains standing, occasionally shifting from foot to foot but aside from that he remains stoic still. He stands like a warrior; face stern and as poised as a drawn arrow.
‘That we were reckless and selfish.’
I nod; it’s a pretty fair statement in retrospect.
‘They are on their way to Lexovia’s right now, to bring you in.’
‘Bring me in?’
‘They plan to protect you until the opening of the portal. Then they’ll send you through and make sure Lexovia safely makes it back.’
‘Is this bad?’ I sense there’s something Milo isn’t saying, but if all the Courts have done is give us a slap on the wrists and insist on my protection, I’m struggling to see the downside.
‘I’m not to be involved.’ Milo doesn’t look at me. ‘To keep you truly safe, you’ll be locked away somewhere where no one except those who put you there can find you.’
‘What?’
‘They feel our relationship is the root of this problem,’ Milo spits. ‘We’re forbidden to see each other…ever again.’
‘No.’ Dumbfounded, I wait, but for what I don’t know. Now I understand the urgency, the desperation I heard in Milo’s voice earlier tonight. My heart constricts. Confused and unsure of anything but the need for his touch, I pat the seat beside me and he solemnly joins me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and resting his head on mine. I inhale – vanilla. We sit like this for a while. My eyes closed, face buried in his chest. The idea of going back to Islon, unsure of when I’d see him again had been hard enough. I can’t imagine knowing that I’ll never see him again…forbidden.
‘Do you ever feel like the universe has it in for you?’ I muse, only half speaking to him.
He makes a low rumbling sound in the base of his throat then surprisingly says, ‘No. How could I possibly think ill of a universe that brought me you?’ He leans over and kisses my eyelids. I keep them closed, savouring the memory of his lips. He strokes his finger from my temple, over my ear and along my jawline. I tremble.
‘Do you think the universe has it in for you?’ he asks.
‘Sometimes,’ I sigh. I should probably return his answer of how I’m so happy to have found him and how the universe must love me but I can’t. Instead, I feel bitter and cheated. ‘Sometimes I just think it would be nice if the universe gave you a heads-up. Warning: will cause heartbreak.’ I smile wryly.
Milo chuckles, ‘That would be grand. To ask the universe anything and have it answer.’
‘What would you ask,’ I say thoughtfully, ‘if you could get the answer to any question?’
Milo considers for a brief moment. ‘I think I’d ask if falling in love with you is the right thing to do.’
My eyes open. It’s the first time he’s actually used the ‘L’ word. ‘And what do you think the answer would be?’
‘I think the answer would be that that was never a question,’ and he shakes his head. ‘I fell in love with you before not falling in love with you was an option.’
The statement is weighted and he hesitates, as if there’s something he isn’t saying. My breath catches, and before I have chance to let it go, his lips are pressed against mine, coaxing them apart. His tongue urges its way in and I welcome him. I pull on his shoulders, dragging him towards me, but I can’t seem to get him close enough. I push myself against him with a force I’m unfamiliar with and I tangle my fingers in his hair. My body feels like it’s encased in flames as I become compressed between the sofa and Milo. I almost scream when he pulls away.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, anxious and out of breath. My whole body is buzzing, demanding that he returns.
He chuckles slightly at my no doubt stunned expression. ‘Let’s stop there,’ he says, pulling himself into a sitting position.
‘What?’ I gasp, incredulous. I feel the fury burning in my eyes and can’t disguise it. I rise onto my elbows and stare at him expectantly. He says nothing, just smiles and strokes my hair. I move away, sitting up and folding my arms.
‘Are you mad?’ he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone, teetering in his eyes.
I glare at him, unable to find words adequate to describe just how mad I am.
Finally,
he says, ‘I need to give you a reason to come back,’ and forces a shrug. I’m not convinced.
‘Since when do I need another reason than you?’ I scoff, raking my fingers through my hair. ‘I’d come back just to glimpse you through the portal, Milo.’
And something I’ve said seems to make him lose his usual cloak of unbreakable control; like something primal within him manages to shred through. His lips find mine once more, this time determined, this time with a purpose: to make me fall apart. He forces me against the sofa and I don’t protest. I urge him on, my hands finding their way to the smooth, warm skin of his back, his chest. He growls as he grabs my arms and pins them above my head.
His eyes search my face. ‘If we do this,’ he warns, ‘I’m not going to be able to let you go.’
‘So don’t.’ I free my arms and pull him down towards me but this time something’s wrong. My throat closes up, and without thinking, I push him away, gasping as if I’ve been drowned.
‘What is it?’ he asks breathlessly.
For a while I don’t speak; just sit here, panting. Perhaps I should be crying, but I’m so overwhelmed, all natural functions like speech and tears elude me.
‘What is it?’ Milo presses, his voice lifting in panic.
I gulp, sucking some much needed oxygen up through my nostrils. ‘I can’t go,’ I choke, my voice barely audible. Our true situation now seems to dawn on me, winding me on impact. ‘I can’t go back.’ My throat feels sticky and dry no matter how many times I swallow.
At last, my anxious eyes meet his. ‘And you’ll be here.’ The words leave me cold, like a bitter wind. I shiver, blinking though still no tears surface.
An emotion flashes across Milo’s face, so fierce it leaves me confused. It seems to be a mix of everything; anger, fear, sadness, love. Without a word, he scoops me into his arms and pulls me onto his lap. He rests my head against his chest and kisses my forehead, slowly trailing my spine with his finger. I close my eyes, allowing the beating of his heart against my cheek to keep my own from stopping.
THE PRICE OF MAGIC
