Ignition

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Ignition Page 20

by Emma Shelford


  I bend toward Anna slowly, not taking my eyes off of hers. Her face is excited and filled with anticipation. I close my eyes and kiss her mouth. Her respond is immediate and fervent, and she opens her lips to mine and slides her tongue against my own. I press her mouth with mine and push her hips with my hands, forcing her to sit down on the bench when I lean over her. She offers no resistance.

  My hands are not idle. I grab the lauvan around Anna’s hips and she moans against my mouth in pleasure. It seems that the necklace lets her feel my touch more intensely than most. Quickly, I wrap her lauvan around the lauvan of the park bench. The bench is fairly new and the gleaming wood still has plenty of life in it, enough for my purpose. Once my work is complete, I end the kiss abruptly and step back.

  Anna looks confused, her dilated pupils half-lidded and her breathing fast.

  “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

  I reach around her throat and swiftly unclasp the necklace. She moves her hands to stop me but I’m too quick for her, dazed as she is. Her eyes harden.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Stopping this madness you created. You may be content to let Wallerton burn and your friends die, but I’m not. I’m going to destroy this necklace and stop the eruption.”

  “You can’t do that, you stupid man,” she spits out. “Scratching the surface or crushing it won’t break the connection to the spirit world.”

  I stare at her, my mind working frantically.

  “It has to change elemental form, I suppose, to break the connection. I guess there’s only one option.” I look up to Mt. Linnigan, its roiling clouds bursting forth from the peak.

  Anna attempts to rise and snatch back the necklace while my back is turned, but only succeeds in scuffing her feet on the ground. She slams back into the bench involuntarily. My work with the lauvan holds her firmly.

  “What the hell did you do to me?” she shouts. Panic gathers in her eyes. “Who are you?”

  I don’t have time for this. I shove the necklace into my pocket and slip down the promontory to find a place where Anna can’t see me. I need to fly.

  “Lauvan, don’t fail me now,” I say when I stop out of sight of Anna. My arms and hip ache, my head spins, and my abdomen pulses with burning pain from the spirits’ treatment of me, not to mention the lingering nausea from when I gathered the sick lauvan. I hope I have enough focus to transform. I have to have enough.

  “For Jen,” I say out loud and gather the necessary lauvan. I take three deep breaths and pull. I can almost taste the relief as my wings unfurl and I take off toward the mountain.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  The winds are stronger now. They buffet my tiny form and I beat my wings against their might. Adrenaline courses through me, and I need every drop to push through my injuries and stay aloft. I dive to dodge a puff of smoke pushed into my path by the errant wind patterns.

  The air swirls, and for an instant the top of Mt. Linnigan looms ahead. My tiny heart in its feathered chest drops to my talon-studded feet. The mountain spits up magma in spurts of fire hundreds of feet into the air. They eject into the sky and fall back down to the slopes, still red-hot and flowing, as liquefied rock burns the trees in its path. Above the mountain, storm clouds gather. The first lightning bolt generated from the massive positive charge of spurting lava strikes the top of the volcano.

  I pump my wings harder than I’ve ever done before. It’s not far now. I just need to get there before any more magma is released from the mountain. I know enough about volcanology to know that these spurts are just the start, the warm-up act to the main show. Once the big talent arrives, none of us will have a chance. Deep in my gut a sharp pain emerges. I wonder what it is now.

  Faster and faster I fly, and ignore the growing pain in my stomach. My plan is simple—drop the amulet into the heart of the mountain, fly away. Heat from the volcano will melt the metal and change its structure completely, destroying both it and the connection between the physical world and the spirit world. The plan is brilliant in its simplicity.

  A lightning bolt sizzles past my left wing. All my feathers rise uncontrollably from the charge and I veer away with a shriek. It’s getting harder to control my bird-form. All my instincts want to do is to fly far away from this madness. Another bolt flashes past, its thunderous crack pounding straight through my body. My hearing numbs and blood trickles down my feathered head, indicating burst eardrums.

  Another bolt nearly takes off my tail feathers, and I flap my wings with barely controlled panic. There isn’t that much lightning around—it’s almost as if the bolts are directed at me. My brain ponders this thought. Am I being targeted? Are the fire spirits that Anna called up behind this attack?

  There’s not much I can do at this point, beyond avoid being cooked into roast fowl. I head straight for the peak, aiming for the hole now apparent in the top of the mountain, when it hits me—the necklace is in my pocket. My human-form’s pocket. As a merlin, I have no pockets, no necklace, and no way to drop the amulet into the magma.

  I shriek my horror to the tumultuous skies. There’s no time to go back to the ground and change form, place the necklace on the ground, transform to a bird, pick up the necklace in my talons, and fly back here. There’s just no time. I realize now that the pain in my stomach must be the spirits in the amulet attacking me. It’s getting worse and worse, almost incapacitating. I don’t know for how much longer I can hold my bird-form.

  Think, think, think, I shout in my head. Then I realize what I have to do.

  I’m so close now that the heat of the spurting magma dries the membranes of my eyes faster than I can blink. I close my nictitating eyelids and peer through the fuzzy membrane of my protective inner eyelid, thankful for my bird-form’s anatomy. I sweep upward as far as I dare, directly above the gaping caldera. The air is thin up here, and there’s just no time.

  Okay, Merlin, I think to myself. You can do this. And survive to tell the tale.

  I hope I’m right.

  I let my bird-form melt away. My human-form drops like a rock. Air whips past me and I swallow the urge to scream. I spin downward, wingless and out of control. My hand plunges into my pocket to pull out the necklace which throbs and stings in my hand, shooting sharp pains through my arm and into my shoulder. The necklace snags for a moment on a belt loop of my jeans and my heart nearly stops. I finally yank it free and toss it away from me. It falls beside me and we both plummet to the magma below.

  I let out all my breath and ignore the monstrous heat emanating below me. I reach out for my lauvan, like I’ve done a thousand times before. One hand, two hands, twist, and—yank.

  Nothing happens.

  Shit, shit, shit. I must have forgotten a vital lauvan. The heat from the volcano sears my skin and my hair starts to dry and crackle. Another lightning bolt skims past and my hair stands on end. I have one more chance, just the one.

  One hand, two hands, twist, and—yank.

  I stop my frantic spinning by spreading my wings. I shriek with relief and I soar away from the hellhole behind me. There’s a pulse of energy from the mountain and I nearly let go of my lauvan in the shockwave. Then—silence.

  I wheel about to look behind me. Smoke dissipates from Mt. Linnigan’s peak and no spurts of magma leap out of the top. It still steams, but even that is much reduced. The other two mountains, Mt. Vickers and Mt. Kullen, are calming as well, and all three simply steam gently as their heat fades.

  I look down to the ground. The lauvan ring is visible from up here with my falcon’s eyes, but it is different. It’s no longer plagued with sickly yellow, but instead glows with the silvery-brown of healthy lauvan. From here I can even tell that the ring is disintegrating, untangling, and the lauvan are resuming their usual swirling free-forms.

  I did it. I actually did it. I swoop in two circles and do a barrel roll to release my feelings. I shriek exultantly, then remember the three women on the ground waiting for me. I aim my flight to Anna, the closest one. />
  ***

  I land hard on the ground and let go of my lauvan in relief. I was only barely holding on to my bird-form. I lay on my back in the long grass, gazing up at the dissipating clouds against a bright blue sky. Across my vision, seed heads dip and bounce in a slight breeze that flows over the meadow. I stare up past the grass, focusing on nothing, and let the stress and madness of the past three days flow out of my body in a rushing wave. I’m exhausted, but it’s a euphoric exhaustion, the relaxation a body feels after a job well done.

  I allow myself only a few moments to enjoy doing nothing before sitting up. My body complains loudly and vehemently. I look down at my bruised and battered figure. Lauvan are tangled everywhere in brown knots that give me a headache just to look at them. I look past them to my physical body—my arm has scrapes up and down its length, my hip is one large purple bruise, and when I lift my shirt my abdomen is pocked with a multitude of reddened blisters from the burning given to me by the spirits. I press my side gingerly and gasp when my fingers encounter what feels like a broken rib. All these injuries made so many knots in my lauvan that it will be the work of an hour or more to smooth them out to their original state. I can’t do it now—Jen and Sylvana wait for me. I don’t care how long Anna waits for, but I might as well release her so I can get out of this town. I’m done with Wallerton. I just want to go home, work out my knots, and sleep all night without the distractions of Anna or the volcano getting in the way.

  I haul myself up the promontory, and wince when my breath expands my broken rib. As soon as I crest the hill and pull myself up and over a large boulder in my path, I see Anna. She’s still on the park bench where I left her. Good. I hope she’s stewing in her bad decisions. She turns her glare in my direction. If looks could kill, I’d definitely be on my last legs. Even her lauvan are sharp and point their ends in my direction like an angry porcupine.

  “Get me off this bench,” Anna says through gritted teeth.

  I saunter over to her, clearly taking my time just to annoy her. It works—she’s practically steaming by the time I reach her and her lauvan tremble in fury. I squat down in front of her knees and contemplate her angry face.

  “It’s over, Anna. The amulet is destroyed and Mt. Linnigan won’t be erupting any time soon.”

  “You fool.” She laughs with disdain. Her face doesn’t suit her words. It’s difficult to associate the beautiful woman I slept with and this cold bitch. Where is Anna? She sneers at me. “You think this is over? We will find a way to let the spirits into the world. I will have the powers they promised me. This is not over.”

  I sigh. There’s so much poison in Anna. How did she get like this? What lies has she been fed, and by whom?

  “Who are you working for, Anna? How did they make the necklaces?”

  “I’m not telling you anything. Who the hell are you, anyway?” Her glare is tinged with a trace of fear. Is she worried about what the people she works for will say when they find out that she failed, that I thwarted her nefarious plans to incapacitate this center? Does she need a good story about the man who foiled the eruption? My annoyance and disgust with Anna melt away, and I just feel sad.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Anna. You don’t need these powers. You don’t have to pander to these people. You don’t owe them anything.”

  “You don’t know a thing,” she spits out.

  I put my hand on her knee. She doesn’t move it away, surprisingly, and her lauvan touch mine tentatively. I’m heartened by this. Maybe Anna is still there, under the fear. I try to reach to the heart of what Anna really wants, the real reason she’s drawn to these people who promise her power.

  “I know how hard it can be to get away and make a new life for yourself. Trust me, I’ve done it before. But you don’t need any powers to do it. You have enough strength of your own, Anna Green—rely on yourself. You won’t be disappointed.”

  Anna glares at me and says nothing. Her jaw is tight and her eyes defiant.

  “If you’re ever in Vancouver and need a friend, look me up. The name’s Merry Lytton.” I gaze at her with compassion.

  “Don’t you dare pity me.”

  “Whether you want it or not, it’s yours. And it’s not pity. I just—get it. That’s all.” I sigh and reach around her hips to unfasten the lauvan. She tenses, and I wonder how she thinks I attached her to this bench.

  “What are you doing?”

  I don’t answer, but complete the untangling and straighten up.

  “Good luck, Anna. I hope you find what you need, not what you’re looking for.”

  I turn to walk away but before I take five paces, Anna speaks.

  “They’ll come after you, you know. They won’t like that you stopped their plans. They’ll want revenge.”

  I turn to look at her. She stands beside the park bench, her face now unsure and devoid of contempt. A couple of her lauvan reach toward me, waving in midair, and the few lauvan that connect us quiver.

  “Thank you for the warning, Anna. You be careful, too.”

  I leave her looking after me, motionless beside the park bench.

  ***

  I hike quickly back to the meadow beside the parking lot where I left Sylvana. It’s not far, and I’m at her side in a few minutes. She faces the mountain with her eyes closed and her palms spread, as if receiving a volcanic blessing. I smile. Her lauvan calmly swirl around her body and her face is serene. She clearly had no doubt that I would prevail. Her faith in me is heartwarming, and I feel a tremendous fondness for this woman with her sensible haircut and painted wooden bangles.

  “Sylvana.” I touch her arm. “It’s done.”

  She turns to me and opens her eyes with a beatific smile.

  “I know. I felt it, when you finished it. There was a huge pulse of energy. I felt it here.” She pats her chest where the necklace lies under her shirt. “And then there was nothing, and the tremors stopped.” She grabs my arm and shakes it gently. “You did it, Merry. You saved Wallerton.”

  I smile back in the face of her joy. The euphoria of destroying the amulet, put on pause during my talk with Anna, slides back with her praise.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you, Sylvana. You gave me the time I needed. Without your help, your stabilization of the energies, the mountain would have erupted long before I had the chance to fix this.”

  “I’m glad I could help, and be a part of this incredible experience. I’m so lucky.”

  I can’t help myself—I laugh out loud.

  “There aren’t many who would consider almost-certain death by lava and ash to be their lucky day.”

  “But we had you, and your abilities, to save the day. And I was a small part of that. I’m content.” She looks at me with an almost worshipful awe and joy, then looks concerned for a moment. “Would you mind if I told my Aunty Bethany about all this?”

  “Be my guest, if you ask her to keep it mum. I don’t want to leave my home right now—I like Vancouver. I have a good thing going at the moment.”

  “Leave? Why?” Sylvana is genuinely perplexed. I shrug.

  “If too many people know about me, it never ends well. I don’t tell many people about my—abilities, and I never stay in one place for very long, regardless.”

  “That’s terrible.” Sylvana shakes her head, then gives a decisive nod. “But you can trust my aunt. She’s very discreet.”

  I nod. A thought strikes me.

  “Can I see your necklace?”

  Sylvana draws it out of her shirt and over her head. Just as I suspected, the amulet is entirely stripped of its lauvan. I can now see that the pendant is a polished chunk of quartz surrounded by a ring of silver filigree. It’s quite beautiful, with a nineteenth-century appeal. I grimace and give Sylvana the bad news.

  “About that—I’m afraid your necklace won’t work anymore. It won’t help you with your aura reading, tea leaves, whatever you were using it for before. When I destroyed Anna’s necklace, the access to the spirit wor
ld was cut off for all three amulets.”

  “Oh.” Sylvana looks crestfallen for a moment. She gathers herself together and puts on a brave face, but her lauvan droop despondently. “Well, easy come, easy go. If Wallerton is safe because of it, then it was a fair trade. Although, I won’t deny that I’ll miss the connection and the knowledge.” She tilts her head in inquiry. “Did you find Anna? Is that how you got her necklace? Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, I found her. She’s alive and healthy, if that’s what you mean. But I think she needs a friend, someone other than these people she’s working for. She’s still wrapped up in their business, and I think she’s scared. I hope she finds her own two feet to stand on, but I don’t know.” I give her a tight smile. “I hope so.”

  Sylvana’s eyebrows knit together anxiously.

  “I can certainly try to reach out, but I don’t know how successful I’ll be. She’s pretty good at brushing me off these days. But I’ll try.”

  I glance in the direction where Jen waits.

  “I should go—I used my friend as a grounding as well, and I need to collect her. She doesn’t know about me, and she’s probably beside herself right now about the volcano.”

  “Oh, yes, go,” Sylvana says at once, then says, “Wait. I wanted to tell you that I appreciate you calling me Sylvana. Most don’t. They think it’s silly.”

  I look at her. Her lauvan are tight to her chest. She’s afraid I think she’s silly, too.

  “Sylvana is who you’ve chosen to be. I know a little something about reinventing yourself. I wanted to respect your decision. I’m sure it was not made lightly.”

  Sylvana’s eyes are watery, but crinkle in a smile.

  “Bless you, Merry. Now, go find your friend.”

  I turn, eager to follow her instructions.

  ***

  I start to trot when I take the trail out of the parking lot toward Jen. At the lauvan-cable I turn right, running through the forest and out into the meadow. Jen stands with her back to me amid the grasses and wildflowers blooming at this time of year, pinks and yellows and purples. Her long hair is unbound and drifts in the breeze, a direct contrast to her static lauvan, frozen with fear. She looks so fragile. My heart squeezes tightly.

 

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