by Lizzy Ford
More fog drew her attention as she set foot into the clearing. She paused, puzzling over the strange display. There were patches of white and black fog in the field, moving with more discipline than smoke. They hovered around a large, flat stone in the middle of the field before two of them – one black and one white - raced away towards the canyon. Almost like … people? She squinted, trying to see more. The clouds seemed to reset suddenly, with all of them returning to the stone in the center. As she watched, they milled once more, before the two broke away and fled once more.
They disappeared into the forest, only for the routine to start anew. She sensed they were acting out some bizarre scene. It was like the corridor; unfamiliar and scary. Was this a memory of the air magick, projected into the field? Like the earth showed her?
The dark-haired ghost reached the other side of the snowy clearing. Autumn trailed again, watching as the girl’s form disappeared into the forest.
This time, the ghost didn’t wait for her at the edge of the trail where the forest fell away and the cliff overlooking Miner’s Drop. As Autumn watched, the ghost approached the edge of the canyon. She stood still for a long moment.
Fear rose fast and cold within Autumn. She quickened her pace, uncertain why the idea of a hallucination – probably brought on by her pain meds – jumping off a cliff affected her at all.
Don’t. She willed the girl. Just wait!
If the ghost heard, she gave no indication. Autumn limped free of the path into the snow. Black fog swirled around the ghost. She was gazing down into the canyon. Autumn drew abreast of her, taking in the pale face once more. There was sorrow in the girl’s dark eyes, and Autumn followed her gaze. For a long moment, she couldn’t breathe.
On the snow-covered slope far below, the girl lay unmoving. Her body was bent at angles that told Autumn she didn’t survive the fall. Blood pooled around her, glimmering red-black amid the black shadows milling around her form. Both were a stark contrast to the snow.
A tremor of distress went through Autumn. She glanced at the girl beside her. The apparition was gone. She was alone on top of the cliff. Her body shook from something she couldn’t identify. Emotion? Memory? Whatever it was, it was buried. The scene before her meant something to the part of her she couldn’t access. It made her breathing harsh and uneven.
As she watched, the body in the canyon faded and dissipated like smoke. No sign of what happened remained.
But Autumn knew. She understood why the path to Miner’s Drop was off limits. The dark-haired ghost haunting her had showed her. She fought the darkness of her memories, struggling to recall why the ghost had chosen to follow her from the hospital to bring her here, tonight, and remind her what happened.
Her head began to pound. The harder she fought the blocked part of her mind, the sharper the pain grew, until she was dizzy. She needed to know, but fighting her mind was a losing battle resulting in a migraine.
She just couldn’t remember.
“You keep following me.”
Decker’s voice made her jump. Autumn winced and touched her temple. She drew a few deep breaths before turning to face him. He stood a few feet away, gaze on the sky. She focused on him, frowning. His words were slightly slurred and his eyes unfocused. The allure she’d barely escaped by day was intensified by night. Shadows didn’t just trace his movement, they swirled at his feet and wrapped him in a cloak.
“I don’t mean to,” she replied.
Her voice drew his attention. His gaze remained glazed. She wasn’t certain if she was relieved he couldn’t focus his intensity on her or scared he’d be like the college boys that pushed her around.
“Are you okay?” she ventured.
“Fine.” He glanced down at himself, as if to double check.
Autumn’s gaze swept over him, settling at the small pool of blood beside him. She looked harder for some sign of an injury. His hands and clothing were wet with blood.
“It’s not mine,” Decker said, aware of her gaze.
“Whose is it?” she whispered.
“The bus comes Thursdays. You just got here?”
She nodded uncertainly.
“Amber showed you the Light orientation.” He snorted. “You have no clue about the other side of the story.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll give you the quick version. There’s Light, and there’s Dark. Beck is Light. I’m Dark. His job is to protect those in the Light, and mine is to enforce the laws of both.” He lifted his hands. “This is how I do it.”
A chill went through her. She’d thought him dangerous, but this was entirely different than what she expected.
“You … you kill people?” she managed.
“Witchlings that go Dark. Only those who warrant it. Sometimes those who probably don’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t believe in second chances.”
Drugged and unguarded, Decker’s human side was exposed. Horrified by his words, she nonetheless sensed there was a pain as deep hers lurking beneath the shadows. She hated the idea of someone else suffering as she did, even him.
“I do,” she said, uncertain what else to say. “I had one. Maybe you will, too.”
“What?” His gaze sharpened.
“Nothing, I just …”
For once, she prayed Beck stumbled upon her again. Decker was staring at her hard, the shadows around him stilling in what she took to be warning, like a hunter about to pounce. The whisper of air magick grew fearful, alarming Autumn. What kind of magick did an element fear?
“There are no second chances.” His tone was hard, his voice inhuman. “Remember that, if you choose to go Dark.”
The shadows around him began to shift again. Autumn swallowed hard. If she could run, she would. Instead, she was trapped here with the panther, hoping it didn’t attack her.
“I…I meant to thank you for what you did at the football game,” she said, trying to ease the tension between them.
“No worries.”
She wanted to laugh and scream at the response, unable to feel as calm as he did after just hearing him admit he ran around killing people. Her mind was numb, and her body wouldn’t stop trembling. This time, it wasn’t air magick or the weather that made her shake.
As if feeling her gaze, Decker looked at her again, struggling visibly. She couldn’t tell against what. The sense of being cornered fled, along with the air magick’s cry of fear. The hardness left his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice normal again. “I shouldn’t have scared you.”
She said nothing. The danger – whatever it was - had passed.
“You’ll figure it out soon. Someone has to keep the Dark from spreading. When someone breaks the Dark Laws, it’s my job to kill them.” He showed her his hands again.
Autumn looked away, fighting nausea.
“If I don’t, evil spreads. Understand?”
She nodded, uncertain if she did or not. What he said almost made sense, when she thought of the Light Laws. She’d never wondered what happened if someone broke one. She’d understood that failing the trial was bad. She didn’t know how bad.
“They really should put a warning label on the orientation class,” she whispered.
“They believe witchlings will choose what’s already inside them.”
“There’s no room for mistakes?”
“No.” His response was quiet, gaze going to the sky again.
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s not.”
“Then why don’t you …” she trailed off. Autumn looked from him to the canyon, recalling his question about following him. She almost understood. Almost recalled something. It had to do with the dark-haired girl that led her here this night and Decker’s pain.
Autumn ceased struggling with the memory. It wasn’t going to emerge.
“Why don’t I what?” His voice was calmer, though the hard edge had crept back into it.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. Pain as deep a
s his wasn’t going to be soothed by empty words. She hesitated then began to tell him what she hadn’t revealed to anyone else. “I, um, was in an accident awhile ago. The doctors told me I’d never walk again, and I’d have brain damage. They said to accept those things, because there wasn’t much hope at all for any other outcome.” She said with difficulty. “My … my left leg is pretty much just my skin over this contraption they built for me. I used to wake up from surgeries and pray I died. I never knew I could feel such pain. The drugs did nothing.”
He was listening, gaze on her face.
“But I decided the pain couldn’t win. If I survived, there was a reason, and I can’t … I can’t believe that reason is so I can spend the rest of my life suffering.” She swallowed hard to keep tears from forming. “I had a second chance. I decided I wouldn’t waste it. I learned how to walk when everyone told me I’d never be able do it. I may never run again, but I won’t stop trying.”
“You’ll be in pain the rest of your life.”
“I know that,” she said with some anger. “If I had it to do over, I would still choose pain over death.”
“Wise words, from a crippled girl.” Decker’s words were soft, mocking.
Autumn met his gaze. “I’m stronger than you. You let your pain cloud your judgment.”
“Careful,” he growled. His eyes flared with anger, and the shadows around him slowed. Air magick grew agitated once more, and the sense of standing close to something not entirely human returned.
She waited for the air to calm and the feeling to fade.
“You scare me, Decker. But I also know there’s nothing you can do to me worse than what I’ve been through,” she told him with more confidence than she felt. “You don’t even try to fight your pain.”
“You make it sound easy,” he snapped.
“It’s not. It’s hell. Every second of every day. At least I choose to face it.” Her chin trembled. “You’ve given up.”
“There are no second chances.”
“Yes, there are. You just have to take that first step.”
Decker held her gaze. His jaw was clenched, his muscular frame and shadows making him look like an angel of death. She didn’t back down. She’d sensed his pain and innately understood it was this that drove him to believe what he did, to take the lives he did. He didn’t believe in mercy, because no mercy was shown to him. He needed to hear the truth. She hoped there was some small piece of him that understood it.
The silence grew longer. Cold and overwhelmed by the discussion, Autumn leaned more heavily on her cane.
He was struggling again. She didn’t understand what was happening to him. The inhuman presence left; he’d won some invisible battle. Decker turned and strode into the forest. His fog rose, obscuring his form. When it cleared, he was gone.
Startled at his abrupt departure, she stared after him then almost slid to her knees in relief. Something about him left her drained every time they crossed paths. She wiped her face and lifted it to the sky. Snowflakes caught in her eyelashes. Her face was too numb from cold to feel those that landed on her cheeks. The air and earth spoke to her, and she realized she hadn’t heard one of them while she talked to Decker, as if the earth was watching the exchange while the air tried to warn her.
She breathed deeply and focused on regaining her composure and strength for the walk back to the school. Her head was killing her. Lack of movement and the chill rendered her left leg stiff. Grimacing, she stretched and bent it until it warmed.
She faced the canyon again, eyes going to the place where she’d seen the dark-haired girl’s body. No one at the school spoke about what happened. Even the apparition hadn’t told her exactly what occurred. Autumn considered suicide first but changed her mind. The apparition had been sad but not regretful.
No, the dark-haired girl didn’t kill herself. Someone else pushed her over the cliff. Autumn’s thoughts turned to Decker, who admitted to giving no one a second chance.
Her headache grew worse. Autumn felt a trickle of blood from her nose. It was hot against her cold skin. She dabbed at it, then wiped it away. Sometimes that happened, when the headaches were strong enough to make her nauseous.
Right about now, the journey back to the school seemed too long for her to make it. A familiar sense of despair rose within her as tunnel vision formed from the intense pain in her head. She hated the helpless feeling that crept over her. As strong as she’d made her mind, her body was frail.
The longer she stayed on the cliff fighting her memories, the worse her migraine became. Autumn lowered herself to her knees and placed the cane across her lap. One of her nurses had been into New Age healing and taught her to meditate when these spells came.
Squeezing her eyes closed, Autumn concentrated on taking deep breaths. She tried to distract herself from the pain by tracking the air magick zipping through her. The earth’s gentle warmth crept through her legs.
“Not so tough now.” Decker’s voice was soft. She didn’t sense the otherworldly presence, only him.
Her heart flipped at his unexpected return. “You pissed enough to get your gun?”
“I use my hands, sometimes a knife, to kill.” He crouched beside her, close enough for her to feel his warmth.
Alarmed, Autumn kept her eyes closed, needing to ignore him to maintain what was left of her resolution not to pass out or throw up.
“C’mon.”
Her eyes flew open as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground with ease. Cradled against his chest, she almost panicked at the force of his magick washing over her, through her. She’d felt his fire before; this time, it was accompanied by an equally powerful, cool magick. Water. Whereas Beck’s earth magick slipped gently between her and the pain, Decker’s met it head on. The result was a flash of agony before the fire and water consumed it.
She gasped at the sensations, grateful that, this time, there was nothing sexual in his touch.
“I don’t need help,” she said, pushing at him. “I’m fine.”
“Right. So am I.”
She was about to object again when the world fell dark and silent around them. Just as quickly, the fog lifted, and she stared, disoriented.
They were in the foyer of the school. A fire crackled in the hearth beneath the dark television. Its scent and warmth had never been more welcome to her than right now! She relaxed, relieved to be back.
Decker set her down on the couch and stepped away. The fire flared as he drew near. Autumn looked at it, unsettled to see the flames reaching for him. Though they no longer touched, his magick remained, keeping her pain in check. She stretched her leg, unwilling to let him see how relieved she was for his help.
“All you have to do is ask,” he said. “Beck and I won’t tell you no.”
She eyed him, recalling how Beck saw her thoughts when they touched. Her face grew warm.
“About your pain. It’s easy for us to help it,” he clarified, amused. “Unless you’ve got another reason you want me touching you.”
“I don’t need your help.” With a shake of her head, she focused on moving her leg. Both twins needed to learn boundaries.
“You know what your problem is?” he asked, amusement gone. “You’re unwilling to ask for help, even when you really do need it.”
“Whatever.”
“You started this game by calling me out on the cliff. I’ll finish it, whether or not you want to play,” he warned.
“I see arrogance runs in the family,” she retorted.
“That’s what happens when you poke a caged panther.”
She looked up, startled. “And that’s why I don’t want either of you touching me!”
Though he smiled faintly, the wariness remained in his gaze. Autumn rolled her eyes at him and focused on her leg.
“If you won’t listen to Beck, then listen to me,” Decker advised. “The forest is mine after dark. Stay out.”
“A warning?” she asked.
“Yeah.�
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“You’re giving me a second chance.” A smile tugged the corner of her mouth.
He paused. “Looks like it.”
“So … I won this round,” she said, unable to help the note of triumph that crept into her voice.
“Seriously? Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?” he asked, surprised. “You realize if you step into the forest after dark again, I’m keeping you.”
“Keeping me?” She snorted. “I’m not the lost puppy you and your brother think I am.”
“Think more along the lines of playing with fire and being consumed.”
Autumn wasn’t sure what to think of his words or why they left her body yearning to test him. His tone made her blush. He drew closer again and sat on the ottoman. His magick was free, as it had been earlier in the day when she saw him at the cliff the first time.
She sat back as far as she could, wanting to swat away the shadows piercing her body. His dark eyes were intense, his nearness making her body hum with urges she didn’t completely understand and her breathing irregular. He wasn’t even touching her. She had a feeling if he did now, she really would be lost. Why did she want that to happen? Did it have something to do with when she’d been at the school before?
Like he baited his brother, Decker was messing with her.
“One-zero,” she whispered.
“Alright,” he said in the husky growl that skated across her nerves. “Game on. Remember you started this.” He motioned her towards him. His knees almost touched the couch already. She’d pulled her legs onto the couch when he approached to keep from what she knew was dangerous contact.
Her eyebrows quirked. She didn’t move.
“Let’s see how brave you are,” he baited. “Come on.”
“I’m not stupid,” she returned.
His slow smile and steady gaze left her fighting not to sink into his shadows and fire. Every nerve in her body ached to feel his touch. She’d conquered pain. She could conquer whatever it was he did to her body. Autumn stayed where she was.
