I tried to remember how Fredericton was laid out — I hadn’t been there very long. But I knew there was a bridge to the northside of the city. If I got across it and made my way to the highway from there…
“Farida, pull up a map. We’re going to the northside!”
“Already know how to get there!”
A police car screamed out from a one-way just ahead of us. Shrieking, I veered wildly to the right, rattling and clunking my way over the curb and into a parking lot. I cut across the lot and onto a perpendicular street heading downhill, narrowly missing a second police car. Our vehicle was now shaking and making sounds of protest as we sped down the residential street.
“Take a left at the intersection passed the YMCA.”
“How do you know this? I thought you never lived in the city!”
“My dad and uncle used to take me and Imani for visits sometimes.”
The lights turned green just as I reached the YMCA. I put on more speed, glad that the half dozen police sirens were warning traffic to move out of the way.
“Next right!”
I turned on her command.
“The bridge is straight down this road! Just a few blocks ahead.”
We were going so fast and violating so many traffic laws that we were on the bridge in seconds. If I hadn’t had a criminal record before this whole mess, I definitely had one now.
The water was a grey-blue blur on one side and sunset orange on the other. I was just thinking how odd it was that the bridge was clear of traffic when I saw it — a police road block on the other side.
“What do I do?!” I shrieked. We were too fast. There was no time to—
The whole bridge rumbled as the exit ramp heaved, tossing the police car there into a ditch as the earth broke upward. The spiking rupture in the ground then split in two, clearing a path just in time for us to speed through.
“What—”
“Imani,” Farida and Masika said in grim unison.
I glanced in my rear view, but all I could see was more police cars. She had to be somewhere nearby if she was using her magic, though. I looked back to the road in front of us — and saw a single black car pull out of a parking lot and turn onto a side street about a block ahead of us.
Several yards away, the road buckled upward again to block our path, forcing us to turn left like the other car I had glimpsed. Another rupture appeared just behind us, barring the path of the police.
“She’s guiding us somewhere,” Masika said grimly.
“How did she know where we were in the first place?”
Farida remained silent. I didn’t need to glance back at her to know that all the blood had drained from her cheeks.
As we drove along, earthen roadblocks burst up, forcing us to follow a set path. The houses and businesses soon gave way to a long, straight stretch of road with trees on both sides, a mix of dark greens and vibrant oranges as autumn took hold. Then we were forced onto a side road just passed an auto repair shot. A large section of trees had been cut down along the dirt road, leaving the earth bare. Eventually, the road ended. The car leading us stopped and I followed suit a few yards away.
Two people stepped out of the other car. It wasn’t hard to guess which was Imani. Her long, dark curls were pulled back in a ponytail, her bronze-y brown skin marred with scars and weathering. The sharp angles of the bones in her face, the way her skin clung to her cheekbones and sunk in at the hollows, told me she hadn’t eaten well in a long time. And her eyes — they were narrow and looked black, but even from a distance I could tell they were filled with intent.
I had expected her to look like Farida, but they were polar opposites. Farida was whole and welcoming and radiant. This woman looked broken and angry and cold.
The second figure appeared to be around my age. Aside from a few splotches of pink discoloration along his face and arms, he was pale. His hair was buzzed to near baldness. And there was something familiar about his deep-set eyes and wide, square jaw.
“Who’s that with her?” I asked even as I tried to place his face in my memory.
“I’ve never seen him before,” Masika said.
Farida, unbuckling her seatbelt, said, “He’s a problem. I don’t wanna fight Imani when she has backup.”
“You’ve got me.” I switched off the engine and reached for my own seatbelt.
“No, you stay here. Protect Masika.”
Then she threw open the car door and stepped out, standing tall despite her ashen face and shaking, clenched fists. She stepped forward—
And promptly flew backwards onto her ass. She let out a growl of frustration as she scrambled back to her feet, face now flush with either annoyance or embarrassment or possibly both. “I hate it when you do that!”
Imani raised an eyebrow and curled her lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a klutz.”
Before Farida could retort, the guy with Imani spat on the ground. “Why are you wasting time? We had a deal.”
Imani cut a sideways glance at him, clearly unamused. “If you’re in such a hurry, then by all means, throw the first punch.”
He unzipped his jacket pocket and pulled out a ring of twisted gold that opened on one side. It was too big to be a bracelet or armband, but I couldn’t see how it would ever open wide enough for someone to wear it around their neck. Each end was set with a bright blue gem. There was a quick burst of light — and nothing. He turned to Imani, shouting, “You bitch! What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she snapped, lip curling in distaste. “You can’t just keep summoning a creature and always expect it to answer. They need rest.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Use its magic for yourself. Like this.” She smirked and tilted her head. In the same instant, Farida was thrown off her feet again, this time flying forward.
Farida pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. I opened my door, ready to jump out and help her, but her head snapped toward me at the sound. “Do as I told you. I’m fine.”
Imani had started sauntering closer. She looked down her nose at her cousin as she said, “You could never beat me when we sparred. You could even fight me when I left. What makes you think you’ll do any better now?”
As she struggled to her feet, Farida clutched at the stone that hung from her necklace. She stared Imani down, taking purposeful steps closer, her eyes filled with anger and jaw squared in determination. Her hands burned bright with sudden flames — then dropped to her side. Her expression softened into sadness. In a low, pained voice, she asked, “Do you really want to hurt us?”
The ground under Farida’s feet bucked more violently than before, throwing her toward Imani, who greeted her with a punch to the jaw. Farida flew sideways, stumbling and losing balance, barely catching herself on her hands and knees.
This time, she came up swinging, hands wreathed in flames. Imani deftly evaded her, a smirk playing at her lips as she ducked under a punch and answered with a fist straight into Farida’s gut. Farida stumbled back, gasping.
“Come on,” I muttered, smacking my palm against the steering wheel. Every blow Farida suffered was making my stomach knot up even tighter. She wasn’t fighting as well as when she had gone up against Tara and Patrick and their creatures. Even I could tell her strikes lacked the usual power and precision — she was defending herself, not fighting to win.
“She let’s Imani get too deep into her heart,” Masika said. I tore my gaze from the fight long enough to see her expression: thin-lipped and steely-eyed. Grim. No pride. No hope.
“How… How far do you think Imani will go fighting her?”
“As far as she needs to in order to get what she wants.”
A sudden burst of wind tore past the car, throwing up dirt and pebbles. Farida cried out as she shielded her eyes and Imani seized the opening, slamming her foot into Farida’s side. Farida staggered away, coughing up dust and clutching her ribs. When she swung her free hand in a half-hearted fireball toward Imani,
another gust of wind kicked up, snuffing it out as though it were nothing more than a candle flame.
“What—?” But even before I could fully form the question, I realized the answer.
The familiar-yet-unfamiliar guy Imani had arrived with wore a contorted expression of concentration, shaking and sweating as he swung his arm out in another arcing gust of wind. I could tell he was new at magic, even from my limited experience. But he was still world’s ahead of me — and Farida already had her hands full with Imani. His magic, weak and clumsy as it was, could give Imani a deadly upper-hand.
I had to do something — anything! I had to keep Farida safe.
Shifting in my seat, I dug into my pocket for the smooth, rounded piece of quartz there. I closed my eyes and concentrated, imagining black mist coiled and waiting at my center.
“What are you doing?”
Masika’s voice broke my concentration. And reminded me what was at stake if I screwed up with my poison again. I was supposed to be protecting the old woman, not killing her with my magical incompetence. I switched tactics. “Masika, how do I call on a creature?”
There was a note of panic in her voice as she said, “You don’t know how to control magic well enough yet. You shouldn’t—”
I tuned the rest of it out. I wasn’t going to sit and do nothing. So I concentrated again, this time imagining glittering scales and massive wings, deadly teeth and razor claws, black breath that destroyed everything in its path.
The stone flared hot as a coal, like the first time I had held it, and the world was engulfed in bright white. By the time my senses returned to me, Masika was shouting in a mix of English and Egyptian I couldn’t make sense of and a scarlet-scaled dragon the size of a semi-truck was in front of the car. It let out a fearsome roar but didn’t move. Black smoke billowed slowly from its mouth.
“Tell it do something!” Masika finally managed to shout.
I stared at the enormous creature in awe and horror at what I had done. Imani was hacking and coughing as the gas overtook her — but that meant Farida was in its path, too.
“I — I don’t know how!”
Masika spat something Egyptian that was definitely an insult. Then she snapped, “Concentrate! Like you did to summon it!”
Farida had fallen to her knees and was trying to crawl to the car. My whole body was shaking — bile burned the back of my throat — but I closed my eyes again, clenching my jaw and blocking the horror out. ‘Keep Farida safe. Get us out of here, get us out of here, get us—‘
Farida’s scream was unmistakable. My eyes flew open; she was clutched in one of the dragon’s clawed feet as it beat its wings, lifting from the ground. And then its other foot extended toward us, grasping—
It seized the car like a claw crane at a junkyard, carrying us as it took flight. I was thrown against the door as it banked into a turn. My violently spasming hands fought to rebuckle my seatbelt, but I couldn’t get it to click in. Masika, still belted in, was clenching the handle above her door and pale as a corpse. I looked around wildly for Farida, but I couldn’t catch more than a glimpse of her. Was she hurt? Was she bleeding? What if the dragon had accidentally crushed her?
All too suddenly, we dove toward the ground. The dragon didn’t so much set us down as drop us from ten feet up and disappear in a flash of light. I flew forward when we collided with the ground, cracking my face off the steering wheel.
Someone was at my door. Yelling. The handle wiggled and rattled but the door wouldn’t open. I tried to sit up but succeeded only in collapsing backward onto my seat. The door — the top — it was bent — bent. From claws. Dragon claws.
As sound and colour blurred all around me, the last thing I recognized before slipping into unconsciousness was Farida calling my name and the taste of blood.
Chapter Fourteen
I was jostled awake, flying into a panic — or trying to. This time, at least, I knew exactly why my limbs were leaden. But something was shaking me. Farida needed my help before Imani — before the dragon — before… before…
My senses were muddled. My memory was worse. Eventually, though, I was able to recognize that I was laying across the backseat of the car. We weren’t moving. The driver-side back door was open and Farida was kneeling by my head, gently shaking my shoulder, the blue-black blanket of the night sky just barely in my line of sight. She and Masika were having an urgent, hushed conversation in Egyptian.
“Good, you’re up,” Farida said. My disoriented vision finally clarified enough for me to see her face. Worry lines pulled together on her forehead. Dried blood clung to the corners of her mouth and bruises darkened her jawline. When she spoke again, she sounded on edge. “We've run into a bit of a problem.”
“The scrying girl pulled up on the road several yards behind us,” Masika said grimly. “She hasn’t moved.”
“I think we should try gunning it. Maybe we can—”
“Outrun her in a car on the verge of falling apart? Out of a field, no less? She’ll easily find us again.”
“We can block her scrying.”
“The car may not even start and, if it does, it may not run for long.”
Dragon. The dragon I had summoned. That was what had dropped and wrecked our car. Despite laying down, I was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness.
There was a long pause. Finally, quietly, in a voice that sounded like defeat, Farida asked, “So what do we do?”
“We see what she has to say. And, if we must, we fight.”
Farida moved away from me. I couldn’t turn my head to see, but I knew she must have stood up just outside the car. “What do you want?” she called out.
There was no reply. A car door opened and shut in the distance. Several long seconds passed and every one that ticked by let panic tighten its hold on my chest. I couldn’t see her, couldn’t tell if she was moving closer, if she looked hostile — anything. We couldn’t handle this right now! I was paralyzed and Farida had been badly beaten on by Imani. We wouldn’t stand a chance.
When Tara did speak, her voice was closer than I expected. “I’m not here for a fight. Just listen and do what I tell you.”
Scuffling feet. The back door slammed shut. Thanks to the window Patrick had smashed trying to get to Masika, I could still hear Farida perfectly when she snapped, “Don’t come any closer!”
Tara growled in frustration. “I said I’m not here to fight!”
“Then talk.”
“Fine. Where’s the other one? The white girl. Amber, is it?”
“H-how do you know her name?” Farida demanded, sounding startled.
“You’ve yelled it before. Plus, it’s all over the news. Anyway, that’s not the point — I have information for her. It’s about her parents.”
I struggled to move, to look over at her, to make my tongue cooperate so I could tell her off or demand she explain or… something. But I was helpless. Laying and listening, wondering what she wanted with my family.
Thankfully, I had Farida to speak for me. “What did you do?!”
Something slammed against the side of the car. Tara cried out in pain. Her voice sounded strained as she grunted, “I’m just following orders. Arman… wanted them captured.”
I wished I could scream. I wished I could grab her by the throat like Farida seemed to have and shake more answers out of her. And all I could do was lay there and whimper.
“You attacked an innocent family just because someone told you to?”
“You have no idea what I’m dealing with. I have things at stake here, too.”
More scuffling feet as Farida growled. A dull thud that sounded like Tara had collapsed to the dirt. She gasped for air.
“Start talking,” Farida snapped.
“There’s an abandoned farm.” She rattled off an address too fast for my brain to make sense of it. “We’ll be waiting there. But she has to come alone if she wants to work out a deal to free her parents.”
I tried to nod, to yell, “I’ll do i
t!” To do anything to make sure she knew I would do whatever it took to keep my parents safe. I managed a grunt and a sob as tears ran sideways down my face, pooling in my ears and hair. I couldn’t move to wipe them away.
“When?”
“I — I don’t know. He didn’t give me a timeline. She better get moving.”
“You have a car, you know the place — why don’t you take us?”
“Strict orders. And I said she has to come alone.” She must have gotten to her feet, because I could hear her footsteps as she started to move away. “Seriously: Get moving. And… good luck.”
Her footsteps slowly faded into silence as she headed back to her car. I heard the door open and shut, then the engine purr to life. When the tires pulled away, Farida slammed her fist against the roof of our car, letting out a string of English and Egyptian swears.
I continued sobbing — unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything.
~
Once we were sure she had left, Farida began sorting through everything in the car, reorganizing and repacking. I couldn’t stop crying. I wanted to scream. I wanted to chase that bitch down and make her pay — pour poison in her throat and shred her skin with dragon’s claws.
But I couldn’t even move and I still barely knew how to control my magic.
Pathetic.
Masika hadn’t said a word. The longer she was silent, the more my blood boiled. Did she not care? Was this beneath her? Were my parents’ lives an unnecessary risk?
“She knew your name…” Farida muttered later as she ran her hands over my face. The soothing warmth that rushed through me at various points told me she was using healing magic. As I looked up at her, though, I realized that she was still badly battered — there was a scab over her lip where it must have gotten split, dark bruises on her jaw and over one of her eyes, and a myriad of smaller cuts and fainter bruises. And that was just her face. Had she not bothered to heal herself at all? A strange mix of guilt and gratitude coursed through me.
“Which means none of us are safe from her scrying,” Masika said.
I tried to look toward her, but my neck was still stiff and uncooperative. Her expression must have betrayed more than her tone, because Farida said, “Masika, please.”
She Who Rises Page 11
