Wings of Light

by Katerina Martinez

  “Crap, Fate, I could’ve killed you,” I said, trying to keep my voice low. Blinking to clear the sleep daze, I realized immediately where we were. I thought I’d dreamed coming to this place, but we were both still here.

  “Sorry!” she hissed, “You were talking in your sleep, or more like moaning, and not in the good way.”

  “What was I saying?”

  “You were telling them to stay back, yelling for them not to hurt you.”

  Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair. This wasn’t the first time I said those words while sleeping. The most frustrating thing about all of this was, the memories were there, buried under my psyche. If they weren’t, present, if they didn’t exist, then there’s no way I’d say half the things I’d say in the dead of night, there wouldn’t be any half-remembered scents, or feelings of déjà vu. The memories were there, just out of reach. Always out of reach.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Strange… but okay.”

  “Strange? How?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Last night, when I got here, I started to feel good for the first time in years. I still do, but now I’m waiting for the bubble to pop.”

  “You… look better. I mean, there’s color in your cheeks, and you’re awake before I am. That hasn’t happened since we lived in that shitty apartment in Brownsville.”

  “The one with the guy who only wore crocks, I remember.”

  I shuddered, recalling the squalor we’d been forced to live in. But that was the life of an other; we didn’t belong in this world so we had to live between the cracks, eat where we could, take whatever work we could get. The glamor didn’t just make us look like humans, we could understand their languages, their dialects, their cultures like we belonged. If not for that, I never would’ve landed the series of jobs that led me to the tattoo place where I worked, and there’s no telling what Fate and I would’ve had to do to make ends meet.

  “Fuck, the tattoo place!” I said, slapping my forehead, “I didn’t tell them I wasn’t coming in today.”

  “In your defense,” Fate said, “You did get kidnapped.”

  “Shit, shit, shit! We’re gonna lose our apartment! Did we even lock the door? Was there a door left after those assholes were done with our place?”

  “Calm down, okay? I don’t know the answer to any of those questions, but we’ll figure this whole thing out. Now, I’ve already heard people walking around outside and someone knocked on our door to wake us up, so we’d better get changed and get ready to face the outside world because right now we’re stuck here.”

  I stared at her, blinking slowly. “When did you get so chill?”

  She shrugged. “Normally it’s you taking care of me. Let me take care of you.”

  I took a deep breath, then glanced over at my clothes still sitting on top of the dresser. “Do we have to wear… those?”

  “You know I’m no stranger to wearing the same clothes four days running, but I think we should play ball. At least until we figure out what this place really is about.”

  I decided to get changed, shedding my leather jacket, my jeans, and my ripped-up Ramones t-shirt for the uniform I’d been given.

  It was a black, skin-tight, one-piece number with a utility belt that made me feel like Batman. The fabric felt smooth against my body, but it was also tough and stretchy, and the more I moved around in it, the more comfortable wearing it felt. I was given reinforced black combat boots to wear, the kind that were ankle high and covered in straps so they could more comfortably fit around the wearer’s foot. The only bit of color on the jumpsuit was the trim on my collar, which ended in a V just above my chest, and wrists—it was bronze. I’d also been provided with clips, pins, and bands to neaten my hair and keep it out of my face. I decided to go for a messy bun, simply because I didn’t have the inclination to be any more creative.

  “I feel like a ninja,” Fate said, then she craned her neck over her shoulder and checked her ass out. A grin spread across her lips. “A hot ninja.”

  “I feel stupid,” I said, “I’ve never worn anything more ridiculous in my entire life.”

  “Are you kidding? You look like an X-Man. Totally badass.”

  Grumbling my disagreement, I moved toward the bedroom door, placed my hand on the knob, and then glanced over at Fate. “Ready?”

  She nodded, and I opened the door to a hallway bustling with activity, a sight I hadn’t expected to see. There were other people here, every one of them dressed wearing the same jumpsuits we were wearing, the only difference being the color of their stripes. Mine and Fate’s were bronze, while some wore gold, and others silver. Two girls, barely more than teenagers, walked by our door and frowned as they passed, giving us both a wide berth.

  “Whaaaaat the fuck is this place?” I asked, drawing the word out.

  “I have no idea… but those girls can suck a big, fat, hairy di—”

  “Hey!” a voice called out, cutting Fate off before she could finish her colorful tribute to those strangers. “You must be the newbies.”

  Arriving at our bedroom door was a broad-shouldered little drink of sunshine who fit very well into that skintight jumpsuit we all seemed to be wearing. He was tall, maybe six foot, easy on the eyes, and extremely toned. Every single bump and dent of muscle on his body was on display; every one of them. The trim on his uniform was silver, and he had a tablet in his hand.

  Before I could get a word in, Fate jumped in front of me, smiling sweetly. “Well, hello there,” she said, “And who might you be?”

  “I’m Lias,” he said, waving a hand, “And I’m here to collect… uh, you.”

  “Me?” Fate asked. “Must be my lucky day.”

  “Cool it, Fate,” I whispered.

  She jabbed me with her elbow. “Where is it you’re taking us?”

  “Both of you? Uh…” he scratched the back of his head. “No, actually, I’ve been told to only pick you up and bring you with me.”

  I pushed Fate aside. “Where?” I asked.

  “I… look, I could get into trouble if I tell you, so…”

  “You could get hurt if you don’t tell me.”

  Thoughts flashed behind his clear, blue eyes—intelligent, calculating thoughts. I had a feeling he was weighing his options; deny me an answer and maybe get hit, or answer me and definitely receive some kind of punishment, probably at Draven’s hands. In the end he decided to smile, his dimples showing, and shake his head.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m really only here for Fate,” he said.

  “Hey, let the man take me wherever we need to go,” Fate said.

  “It could be dangerous,” I whispered into her ear.

  “I’ll be fine, okay?”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Your friend won’t be harmed,” came a powerful, authoritative voice that made Lias’ face tighten.

  Lias turned around to face Draven, who had emerged like a shadow behind him, and offered him a salute. “Sir, collecting the prospect as ordered, sir.”

  “You’re already late to your appointment,” Draven said, “Do your job faster next time, or you’ll answer to me instead of your instructor.” He turned to look at Fate, his eyes boring into her like drills. “Go. Now.”

  Fate gave me a sidelong glance that said more than she could’ve with words—now she was worried. I nodded, assuring her it was going to be alright, and she and Lias moved down the hall, away from Draven. Already I could feel his eyes on me, scanning me. I felt strangely vulnerable in what I was wearing, like there were altogether too many curves on display, especially compared to Draven who was fully clothed. He wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit like I was, but a black, buttoned shirt under that black coat of his—and of course—all his jewels, the most prominent among them being the ruby hanging from his neck.

  I wanted to run back into the room and slip my leather jacket back on, but I also didn’t feel like I could move unless he told me I could. I had every reason to suspect
this man was one wrong move, one slip of the tongue, away from straight up murdering me.

  “Where is she going?” I asked.

  “To train,” he said, “You’re coming with me.”

  “With you? Where?”

  His dark—black—eyes narrowed. “You ask too many questions, you know that?”

  Déjà vu. “Yeah, well, when you get kidnapped in the middle of the night, information becomes a commodity the victim doesn’t have.”

  “You are not a victim, and you have not been kidnapped.”

  “Really? Because taking me out of my home and bringing me to a place where the only options are, join us or die, sounds a lot like kidnapping.”

  Draven’s jaw tightened, and I swallowed hard in preparation for what I thought was coming—a fight. But there was no fight. Draven moved like a blur, grabbing me by the throat, shoving me into the bedroom, and pinning me against the wall with lightning speed. He turned my head to the side and pushed my cheek against the cold stone wall, all the while pressing his body closer to mine to the point where I could feel his formidable muscles against my chest.

  “I have no patience for that smart mouth of yours,” he said, “That kind of thing will get you killed around here, especially if you use it in front of the other members of the Order.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled. So much for one slip of the tongue.

  “You have a powerful spirit. Good. It’ll come in handy when you’re surviving the next few trials. But trust me, the only reason why you and your friend are still alive is because I will it. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

  My heart was pounding against my chest, and the fabric of my suit was so tight I thought even he’d be able to feel that frantic muscle beating against his own, muscular torso. The closeness of him, the smell of him, that alluring musky scent, it was all too much. When he pulled away, I breathed a deep, relieved breath and rubbed my neck with my hand.

  “I get that you’re the boss around here,” I said, “But if you ever do that again…” I didn’t finish the warning, and he didn’t offer another word on the matter. Instead, he ran one hand through his hair and gestured for the door.

  “I need you to come with me,” he said as if what had just happened, hadn't happened. “Now.”

  Frowning, gritting my teeth to bite back the venom, I nodded and moved out into the hallway. He shut the door behind himself, then walked about a step ahead of me. As I followed him, all I could think about was how sweet it would be to dig a knife into that broad back of his, give him a little payback for treating me like I was nothing. Hot, furious anger pulsed through me, dampening my senses, blurring my vision. I was sure he was talking, but I wasn’t listening to him, not at all.

  There was only the fantasy of killing him, and how sweet it would be if he got what he deserved. Maybe people would cheer, everybody around here seemed to fear him, after all. If only I could find a— “Do you want to die?”

  That sentence snapped me out of my fantasy and back into the moment. “What?” I asked.

  “You aren’t listening to me. Do you want to die?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “Pay attention to me if you and your friend want a fair shot at what’s going to happen next.”

  “Fair shot? What are you talking about?”

  He stopped and turned around to look at me. “Well, you could go in fresh, or I could break your arm and then send you in. You decide.”

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Fresh,” I grumbled, not looking at him directly.

  “Good,” he continued walking, “Before we get to where we’re going, I need to ask you about last night.”

  “I don’t know much more than you do.”

  “But I think you do.”

  We made a turn at the end of the hallway and then took a set of stairs going down. The hallway at the foot of the stairs was open plan, on one side a row of doors, on the other side stone columns leading to a vast, open courtyard. In it there was a group of maybe five or six people doing what looked like Thai-Chi, or Yoga, or some other form of slow, ritualistic exercise; all of them clad in jumpsuits, and all of them… glowing, almost. I wasn’t sure if this was a trick of the light, maybe the sunrise breaking over the top of the fortress walls made it look like these people had halos or magic auras or something, but that’s the impression I got as I walked past.

  Then I saw it.

  The cat.

  It was sitting at the base of a tall, ornate fountain with one of its hind legs behind its head, diligently grooming its belly. At first, I’d thought the cat was black, but I’d only seen it at night. Now, though, I could see it was a silver tabby with black stripes and a white belly, and actually not much of a cat at all. It was way too big to be a regular cat, but way too small to be a jungle cat. It really did look like my neighbor’s cat, but that wasn’t the only place I’d seen a silver tabby in recent memory.

  “What the hell?” I whispered, trying to connect the dots.

  The cat turned its vibrant green eyes up at me and, for the life of me, grinned.

  “This way,” Draven said. When I turned to look at him, he was pointing at an open door. I glanced back at the cat, but it was gone; only the fountain remained, the image of a tall woman with huge wings at her back, reaching for the sky. Shaking my head, I moved through the door Draven had opened for me entered what looked like a huge gymnasium. The windows were set high into the wall, there were training dummies scattered around, obstacle courses, a weight lifting station, and what looked like an honest-to-Gods armory; a whole series of racks covered in weapons, shields, and armors I’d only ever seen on the TV.

  “What… is this?” I asked.

  “This is where you will spend the majority of your free time,” Draven said, shutting the door behind me.

  “I… don’t get it.”

  “Have you never set foot in a gym before?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  “Then you know what they’re for. You are to hone your physical skills and be ready for the first trial.”

  “You keep saying that word, trial. What trials?”

  Draven thrust his arm forward and a knife just appeared in his hand, like it’d come shooting out of his coat. The hilt was ornate and silver, the blade itself was black and reflective, like marble but with a razor-sharp edge. With one quick movement he swung his arm around and brought the knife level with my neck, and if I hadn’t jumped away from its path, I’m sure it would have gone through and ended my life on the spot.

  “What the hell!” I yelled.

  “How did you do it?” he asked.

  “Do what, you psychopath?”

  “How did you trick the Caretaker?”

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  “Bullshit,” he growled, advancing on me, “You didn’t just trick the Caretaker, you created a level three supernatural event. People from Connecticut to New Jersey and everywhere in between would’ve been able to see the sun peek over the horizon at two thirty in the morning for twelve seconds if they’d been looking—and you can bet people did see it. I’ve had to divert the Order’s resources to go and deal with the aftermath, and it’s all because of something you did. Now, I’ll ask again, how did you do it?”

  “I. Didn’t. Do. Anything!”

  Draven’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching, his lips pressing together; he was beautiful, I found it impossible to keep my gaze away from him. His eyes narrowed, and in the blackness between those eyelids I saw myself standing before him, my hair burning white, my body wrapped in tight, black fabric. Fate had been right. We really did look like hot ninjas, though now wasn’t the time for those kinds of random thoughts.

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to get a better answer from me, Draven flicked his wrist and his knife burst into a cloud of inky blackness that dispersed into the air like smoke. “I don’t believe you,” he said, “I believe you know more than you’re letting on.”
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  “I don’t. Really, I don’t.”

  “What do you know about our world?”

  “I know some.”

  “Tell me.”

  I felt like a child being quizzed in school, but I didn’t have much of a choice except to play along. “I know we’re not from Earth… I know we come from another place, and that we all fell through a rift to get here.”

  “Not just one, but many.”

  “Yes. All over the world. I know there are different kinds of… us, though I don’t know much about them.”

  “But you have met others of our kind.”

  “I have… that Naga prick, Abvat. I know he’s not from the other side.”

  “What other cultures do you know?”

  “I know about the Elementals; air, wind, water, whatever. I know of the Fiends, the Trolls, the Vampires, the Witches, Aevians—”

  “The Aevians… what do you know of them?”

  “You have a statue of one in your courtyard. Humans call them angels.”

  “Humans have a tendency to deify what they don’t understand, and vampires, mages, they did not come through the rifts.”

  “No. They’re the natives.”

  “So, it’s true; you’re completely useless.”

  The word hit me like a slap. “Who the hell are you calling useless?”

  “You, because you know some things about our world but you don’t have any idea who or what you are, where you come from, or what you can do.”

  I balled my hands into fists. “That’s not my fault. I have flashes and dreams, Fate too, but we’ve forgotten everything.”

  “Then you’re already at a disadvantage. For us, memory is power. Those who remember who they were, what they were, can access the skills and magic we had before we fell. If you cannot remember, you will not survive the trials, and since your friend’s life is tied to yours…”

  I walked up to him, squaring up to a man who was much more physically impressive than I was and who I was sure could kill me with a snap of his fingers. The closer I got to him, the more powerfully I could sense his magical aura, an aura that radiated off him in soft, pulsing waves. “I’m gonna beat those trials,” I growled, “Because the last thing I’m going to let anyone do is hurt Fate.”