by Kade Cook
“Oh, she is not gone,” the tall black-haired hunter declares, sneering at his counterparts, and wiggles his stubby new fingers at the lacy covering of frozen but lethal webs inching their way toward them. “She is very much present, indeed.” He trails his nubby hand across the menacing curve his mouth has shifted into. “Time to end the hunt, boys, and say goodnight to this abomination.”
The large mangled fiend marches forward, toward the thickest of the ice mass as the others stand back, still marveling at the webs of ice. An odd fascination with them draws one of them in. He reaches out to touch the sculptured strand of ice webbed across a frozen gas pipe and it instantly claims his fingers, making him a prisoner to the traitorous surface. “Son of a…” he curses, pulling at his hand. And with a fierce backward glance from the leader, he mans-up and smashes at the ice display with his other hand, freeing his captured digits and forwarding his approach, leaving behind a fractured pipe—unleashing a measure of death’s muted breath.
With the frozen barrier in place, Gabrian hurries to the window, sliding the pane open, and pulls hard. The concrete base groans and inches with her effort but does not yield to its conviction. She grumbles out loud and tries again. Hearing thrashing beyond the door, she tries a different approach. Closing her eyes, she searches for the cold sting of her magic and grips the bars tightly within her palms. The blue hue swallows up the dim light coming from outside—her freedom—and crawls along the bars, covering them with a thick coating of ice that sparkles like diamonds against the light that snaps and crackles under her touch. Gritting her teeth and bracing one foot against the wall, Gabrian twists at the frozen bars—bearing her weight down the wall—and summons all of her Boragen strength in her attempt. The barrier groans and cracks as she pulls at it. In a loud snap, she staggers backward and lands onto the floor, two metal bars within her grasp.
“Yes!” she exhales with a breathy yell and studies the window to see almost enough room to squeeze herself through the remainder of the bars but not quite. She rushes to the window to free up the rest of the space.
“What was that?” one fiend yells.
“That is our prize trying to escape. If we fail, it will be our undoing. There will be no forgiveness if the abomination survives, I can assure you that.”
“Then stop playing around. Time is up.”
Gabrian hears the groans in the door behind her as it readies to fall from the battering of Boragen assaults. If she had only broken one more bar, but time has run out for her, and she must stop them the only way she knows how. Her guilt makes her hesitate, but the voice is back, it returns to whisper in her ear once more. It is the only way.
She knows the voice is right. She will die if she does not. Closing her eyes, and opening her mouth, she inhales. The sweet succulent taste of white life essence seeps through the widening cracks from behind the door and touches down on her tongue. Her eyes open, blazing with a different and dangerous light swirling within them. This way it will be easy for her to stop them. The rapture of drawing in their life invigorates her, but the sickeningly sweet taste catches on her conscience, the weight of her sins pulling her back, drowning her within the stolen life essence, and halts her efforts.
Her memory dances on another option.
She will not steal their life as they intend to do to her, but she will indeed slow them down. With the decision clear in her mind, she widens her hands, and closes her eyes once more. Snake-like fragments of pure energy slithers though the fault lines of the building from outside—cascading freely, dancing on air, past the dangers that surround her. Feeling the warm buzz of energy gathering between her hands, she increases her draw. The outside lights surrounding the building dances and flickers on the strain of her demand. The ball of energy sparks and sizzles as it swirls counter clockwise in her hands, growing hot—her hair nearly standing on end in presence of pure power.
She steals one more glance at the broken bars. It is almost big enough to slip through.
She just needs to distract them long enough to break that last bar and get away.
Do it, the voice whispers to her so sweetly that she no longer questions its intentions, and with little choice, she listens.
They are Borrowers, they will heal.
The room glows in the wake of the growing sphere of pure energy as the orb nears a dangerous level of capacity, even for her it is a struggle to contain it, and its magical magnitude shows on the other side of the door, confusing the intruders. “What the…?”
“Doesn’t matter, bust that door in. Kill the abomination now!”
With the heat rising on the opposite side of the door, one last kick against its frozen side finally causes the barrier to falter and give way.
The room lights up, every corner removed of shadow. All that is and was contained within the walls are now ablaze—present company included.
48
BEAUTIFUL CHAOS
All that Gabrian hears is the yell of thunder as the whole world explodes around her. Everything brightens as her body is thrust against the wall, crushing the wind out of her lungs and crumpling her into a mess upon the floor meshed with the piles of burning rubble as darkness consumes her.
** *
With blinking eyes, she wakes from the darkness, studying the world smoldering around her. Shades of darkness dance within auburn bursts of flames encircling her. Wiping her eyes to clear the debris that scrapes at her lids every time she blinks, Gabrian pushes herself out from beneath the floor boards and wills her body to stand.
She tries to find her bearings, searching through the haze for the window and the metal bindings that hold her captive. Gabrian follows the rolling smoke and locates it—no longer an issue. The blast widened the opening, disintegrating it. Pulling herself up, she hurries to the window, recalling the reason for her present situation, and clamors for the exit. Not able to hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in her ears, she is unsure if she is still being pursued—she just wants out. Closing her hands around what is left of the now crumbled window, she pulls her tattered body into the world outside. Gathering her strength onto her knees, she tries to steady herself—still in a daze, she feels the ground shifting around her.
Taking in a deep breath, she coughs as she tries to clear some of the damage in her smoke-filled lungs, and looks back over her shoulder at the fiery prison that held her captive only moments ago, and seemingly, the only one to escape its walls. She turns to leave, seeing the flickering lights of the silent sirens inching their way toward her from the blackness in the distance.
Help is on its way.
She exhales a sigh of relief just as a loud thunderclap steals the remainder of her hearing, lighting up the night sky with one more display of lights that sends a burst of heat and sharp pain to slice into her back as it does, throwing her to her knees.
An orange hue surrounds her skin as Gabrian’s hands rush to the source of pain, and her fingers wrap lightly around the piece of the metal bar she had so desperately tried to escape from. It is now gingerly lodged within her innards, protruding from her stomach. Her mind screams at her to pull it out, but her body doesn’t obey.
She pushes herself back up on her feet, still glowing in orange. But with each step she takes forward, toward the flashing lights, she staggers, feeling the last strands of her strength waver. Hollow voices make their way in through the ringing in her ears as silhouettes of ghosts edge closer to her—running in slow motion.
The world flickers. Another blast of heat encases her in silence, throwing a large piece of debris on top of her engulfed in flame. Her knees buckle under the heavy unexpected impact, finally betraying her determination to reach safety, demanding that she crumble and bow to the ground. Tiny orbs of light in her eyes dance amongst the crimson embers that pepper the world around her.
Lying still within the silence, swallowed up in flame and drowning within this beautiful state of chaos, Gabrian slips into the darkness once more.
49
&
nbsp; FROM THE MIDST OF ASHES
From the midst of the human barrier being constructed by the locals, a large body draped in fireman’s gear rushes toward the fire, axe in hand as he inspects the damage, determining the best course into the burning building.
As he nears, raising his ax, readying it to strike out the small pile of rubble still aflame, he halts his assault, seeing a glimpse of something that does not quite fit. Wedging the edge of his ax beneath the flame, he jerks back at the wood, giving it a swift flick, and pushes it away. The sight of the small charred body cloaked in the midst of the ashes, still ablaze, changes his course of action.
His voice bellows out an immediate command that parts the nearing crowd as they all turn to see the commotion behind them. He stoops low, dropping the ax, and repeats his words, “I need a medic!” His eyes narrow at what he observes. Quickly removing his jacket, he covers the girl, dowsing the flame still dancing across her flesh, then lowers himself to check the severity of her injuries. Gently shifting her and rolling her to the side, he clears away matted ebony locks from the girl’s face and sucks in a deep breath, recognizing who he has just unearthed from beneath the destruction—her aura flickering faintly above the soot-smeared skin.
She has been in his presence before at the place where he, Arramus, holds the honour of Elder to the Egni Fellowship—the Fellowship of Fire—the gift that allows him the ability to do his job so effectively and save the lives of many that may otherwise have perished within the grips of the death-filled infernos.
A medic slices through the crowd, tucking a stretcher under one arm, a first aid kit beneath the other, and heads toward the Marshall. Arramus flings off his gloves and presses his index finger to her flesh below her discoloured jawline and pauses, looking for a pulse. It’s there, pounding wildly beneath her skin—her body is in shock, having tasted the devastation of fire. Slipping his hands between her slender form and the Earth, Arramus scoops Gabrian up into his arms, cradling her against his chest, broad structure swallowing her up, as he turns to meet the medic on his way.
His eyes flare at the medic with a subtle nod of his head, an understanding of silent commands they have shared before, and the Medic drops his equipment to relieve Arramus of his parcel—securing her in his hold. A hand grips the edge of the medic’s coat as he turns to go, engaging him to look back.
“Cash,” Arramus whispers.
“I’ve got her, Arramus.” Cash looks deep into his Elder’s eyes, ensuring him of his words. “Go back to the fire, I promise she will be tended to.”
50
RECOVERY
“So, how is she?” Arramus slowly closes the door behind him and turns to address her caretaker. “She was a bit of a mess when I left her with Cash.”
Kaleb scratches the back of his head and leans against the frame of glass that separates them from Gabrian. “Truthfully?”
“Truthfully.”
“Well, in all seriousness, I think she is ready to go home.”
Arramus’ eyes pinch at the corners, the lines of centuries crease handsomely outward toward his peppery hairline as he breathes out his amazement. “It’s only been a day.”
“I know but she seems fine. Other than a few light pink marks at the sites of marring, she is no worse for wear,” he assures his friend. “Ethan was just here and helped me assess her level of wellness—reading her energy levels and peering into her inner psyche. Other than tons of unexplained imagery, her mental state is fine, just exhausted.”
“Huh. Well, I guess that doesn’t really surprise me.”
“No, her Boragen gift must have been driving her regenerative ability into overtime on this one. After I cleaned her up, and removed the metal bar lodged under her rib cage, there wasn’t another mark on her.” Kaleb slips forward, placing himself back on his feet and turns to rest his hands on the ledge looking in on his patient. “Any trace of fire damage has been repaired. It’s quite impressive really.”
“You are certain that it was her Boragen gift that did this?” Arramus peeks down over his shoulder with a wide-eyed inquiry.
“Yes, quite.” Kaleb halts his observation. His eyes lose their focus as his mind whirls within the question asked by the Fire Marshall standing to his left, dishevelling his certainty. “Why, you are not?”
Arramus disengages his glance from Kaleb, drifting somewhere else—choosing his words as he peers into the dimly lit room, watching the girl as she rests. “Not from what I witnessed last night.”
Kaleb lifts his eyes and turns his head to measure his friend’s expression, gathering there is something more to her recovery than he is aware of. “Well, you found her. What do you think the reason is then?”
Arramus’ face twitches. His tongue wets the edge of his bottom lip as he turns to face Kaleb again with his answer—eyes wide, his pupils dilated and stormy. “When I found her…” He pauses, sucking in a breath, then turns toward the sleeping girl in front of him. “…she was still on fire.”
51
EVENTFUL REITERATION
Gabrian’s lashes flutter as the soft early light filters in through her room and wakes her from the darkness. She senses the gentle presence in the room accompanying her. In the corner chair, hulks a familiar form. At first, her pulse surges, heart playing tricks on her while her mind hurries to catch up—the sweet smell of a childhood memory lingers in the air, deceiving her senses.
Dad?
She lurches forward, clearing her eyes to look upon him before the mirage is gone but it is too late. Her uncle Tynan sits up, noticing her sudden movements, and his face warms to greet her awakening, relieved to see the light in her eyes is still there. An elegant whisper of an approaching essence pulls both their eyes to greet the visitor standing in the open doorway. Vaeda, Lady of Zephyr, holds a cup of hot coffee within her hands that makes Gabrian’s mouth water. She swallows hard at the welcomed relief, her mouth dry and still tasting of smoke and ash.
Tynan returns his interest to his niece and Vaeda’s eyes follow course. “Oh, she is awake?” Her voice chimes, words singing out across the room in a melodic hum. Tynan nods then lifts from his chair and waltzes across the floor in a hurried pace, Vaeda trailing behind him like a shadow.
“Hey, kiddo,” he whispers to her and his lips carry the hint of a tremble on them. His voice catches in his throat as he reaches out to take her hand in his. “How are you feeling?”
She grips his large fingers and sighs. She has not seen much of him as of late, their paths never crossing. It seems as if the last few months have swallowed her up—stealing all her time from her and leaving behind nothing more than empty memories she wishes were not true. It feels good to see him, wearing away some of the aching in her soul.
“Um, all right I guess,” Gabrian croaks out the words, her throat raw and rough, the damage of smoke still harbouring in her lungs. “How…hmm.” She coughs to try to release the dry ball of gritty substance still stuck, refusing to let go. “How long have I been out?”
“Just a day or so, maybe three.”
“Days?” she gasps, lifting her hand to swipe through her tangled mess of hair.
“Yeah, not bad for having been blown up, impaled, and set on fire.” He laughs, deepening the gentle creases at the edge of his eyes.
“What?” She exhales loudly, causing her body to convulse and launch into a coughing fit, finally riding herself of the fiery remains.
The brightness of the explosion lights up her mind as the horrific events rewind through her memory. The loud ringing of the deafening silence pierces her ears as she remembers, and her pulse increases, drumming through her ears. Gabrian feels it rushing through her veins as her pupils widen, reliving her attempts to escape in her head.
Her eyes focus and narrow, returning Gabrian to the present. “Was there anyone else there?” she stutters. “Did they find anyone else?”
“Hmm…” Tynan clears his throat, determining how to break the news to her, and knows she will hate hearing it. He
glances shyly to his left. His eyes fall upon Lady Vaeda and she steps into the conversation, placing her hands to rest on his elbow, and keeps them there in a tender yet familiar hold Gabrian takes notice of.
Well, this is new, she thinks, wrinkling her nose. Her mouth sneaks into a sideways smirk in witness to this interesting development and her heart twists. She is missing so much of the little, yet important things in her world because of the monstrosity her life has become.
“I am afraid two members of our Boragen family were lost in the blast,” Vaeda divulges, her voice soft and steady, but it holds a weight within it. “Two of our Peace Keepers.” She pauses and looks up into Tynan’s eyes. He shifts his focus on Gabrian then returns to the Elder with a nod of encouragement. “And now the house is calling for an immediate inquiry into the matter…an investigation, one that for the most part, revolves around you.”
Gabrian’s heart sinks and she chokes on her breath. The jovial smirk that had pulled at the corners of her pouty lips is now ripped clean from her face, replaced by a lifeless straight line.
“Due to recent developments in your abilities and the unfortunate occurrences, losses, and the destruction of town property in such magnitude—one that you were found unconscious at—it is an unavoidable requirement,” Vaeda sighs, gripping Tynan’s arm then moves forward to touch the top of Gabrian’s hand, resting in her uncle’s hold. “I am sorry, Gabrian. It is mandatory.”
