Singe

by Casey Hays

  “I’ll tell him you have it.”

  Kane keeps both hands on his gun. Ramon doesn’t bother to encourage him to put it away. Like he understands how important it is for Kane have the upper hand. Like this is the reason Kane is talking to him at all. Ramon repockets the watch and peels off his cowboy hat to wipe a sheen of sweat from his brow.

  “How long has Mr. McDowell been dead?” Kane’s question gets right to it. Blunt. I perk up, so ready to know the answer.

  “They executed him Tuesday morning.”

  Silence. Kane’s next question sounds so timid.

  “Do you know why specifically?”

  “They don’t need a reason.” Ramon rubs at the side of his face. “But… he’d been involved with something unrelated. Something big. Renegade activity against the Contingent were the allegations.”

  “He wasn’t a renegade,” Kane quips.

  “Try telling the Contingent that.”

  “And Rylin? Why did they try to kill him?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  Kane shakes his head.

  “Because… of you.”

  I feel Kane’s mantra kick at me. A jolt that makes my stomach drop. My own responds with a whirling buzz, like a ballerina spinning right off the stage to crash into the audience.

  “He wouldn’t give you up even after they found your trackers together on the side of the road.” Ramon’s voice is a mix of sympathy and admiration. “And he wouldn’t confess that he knew anything about a female Fireblood who had never registered her mantra. They didn’t believe him. They charged him with treason for aiding and abetting a felon, and the fact that he was clearly coached to resist a probe only added to his crimes.”

  I sink below the window, stunned. Kane’s mantra speeds up. I chase it with my own, pull at it, try to calm the song. It’s no use, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  Rylin did this heroic thing for us. To protect us.

  “How did Mr. Simon get Rylin out of there?” Kane’s voice shakes. He clears his throat, but he’s losing the grip on his emotions. He lowers the gun an inch.

  “Strategic planning.” Ramon steps off, gazing out over the wooden porch rail toward the dense cornfields. “The minute the regents took a recess, we had seventy-two hours to come up with a plan.” He takes a long breath, like he needs to work up enough energy to finish the story. “The bodies are burned after an execution. So all we needed was a young John Doe from the nearest morgue. Mr. Simon’s inside connections did the rest and got Rylin to us.” He nods at his partners lingering near their car.

  “And why bring him here? Why not just take him straight to the lab?”

  “That’s where we were headed when Rylin coded. We stabilized him as best we could.” He tips his head, indicating his friend who now stands by the car. “But we’re not doctors. We were close to the farm, so we brought him here and called the lab for help. I met the paramedics at the highway and brought them back to the house.” He nods at his friend. “My guy was here with Rylin, but he stepped out for a smoke. Rylin… he just vanished.”

  “Yeah. That was me,” Kane admits.

  “How?” Ramon asks, surprise lighting in the question. “You slipped right past us, and he was at the lab and in surgery in an impossible timeframe. How did you manage that?”

  “It’s… a long story. And not really mine to tell.”

  “Hmmm.” Ramon runs a sweaty hand over his tattooed cheek. “Mr. Simon will be grateful to you. And his wings? Is it true what Petra said? It’s kind of hard to believe without seeing it.”

  “It’s true,” Kane adjusts the gun, a reminder to the others that he hasn’t totally let his guard down.

  “I knew Firebloods healed fast, but…” He shakes an amazed head. “That’s incredible.”

  “Yeah.”

  Another long silence.

  “Do you happen to know where my parents might be?”

  “Not a clue,” Ramon says. “And it’s best they stay wherever they are.” He pushes away from the railing and tramps down the rest of the steps in his steel-toed boots, turning slightly. “Let Rylin know we came. We’ll report what you’ve told us to Mr. Simon. Thanks for your time.”

  I take the stairs two at a time, getting to the bedroom window in time to catch a final glimpse of them through the curtains. They climb into a dark blue Cadillac and drive off in a cloud of dust. Behind me, the prepaid phone goes off. I fly toward it, like I’m afraid they might hear it ringing and find me up here, an unreasonable panic, really. They’re gone.

  I land on my stomach with a bounce and answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Jude.”

  “Hi.” I pause, listening to Rylin’s steady breaths on the other end.

  “We’re all set.”

  “Okay.” I work to calm my pulse. “You had a visitor.”

  “What? Someone came to the farm?”

  “Yeah. Ramon Chama? He’s safe, right?”

  “Oh.” Pure relief emanates back at me through the distance between us. “Don’t scare me like that. Yeah. He’s a good man.”

  “He has your dad’s watch. Wanted to get it to you.”

  “Oh. That was kind of him.”

  His voice fills with choked tension, like he’s trying not to cry. I hold my breath. I want to say something. To comfort him. More than that, I want to thank him for what I just learned. For what he did for us. But… the words… they just stick in the back of my throat. It’s not something I want to say over the phone. That’s too impersonal. Too gratuitous. So I hold my tongue.

  “I just saw your brother.”

  I perk up. “And?”

  “He’s ready. I slipped the pills into his regimen. The nurse will be coming in to serve him lunch and his afternoon dose of medicine in one hour. That’s our go time.”

  I swallow the bile that rises to clog my throat. Downstairs, Kane slams the door. I hear the lock slide into place.

  “This has to work.” My voice is all trembly.

  “It will.” Rylin’s confidence in me vibrates right into my heart. “Jarron is ready, Jude. He’s been ready since the moment you left him. And so are you.”

  My heart flutters. If Jarron is ready… then I’m ready.

  “Okay.”

  “One hour,” Rylin reiterates. “Take the pills, and work your magic.” There we go with the magic again. “I’ll be in touch with Kane once we’ve made it to the lab.”

  “Is my mom with you?”

  “She will be.”

  “Is she drinking?”

  “A little bit, yeah. But… you’ll be happy to know I don’t have to compel her. With my help Jarron relayed his wishes to her. She’s on board.”

  “She is?” My heart skips at least eight beats. “She’s trusting you?”

  “Yeah. She couldn’t work out her own plan. She’d given up, but he has to be moved, and she knows it. She said something ruffled the Contingent; they’re on the prowl, searching facilities like before. No place will be safe for him… except the lab at Singe. Detectors have already been here, questioning the staff. Luckily, few people know Jarron is here, and those who do are very loyal to your brother. Or compelled. Even Dr. Samson plays ignorant. Quite well, I might add. Although his motives as to why are questionable.”

  I smile. “You sensed that too?”

  “Oh, yeah. I compelled him to take the rest of the day off today. No interference. We’ll be gettin’ Jarron onto the truck from an underground loading dock. And by the end of the day, nobody here will remember they had a Fireblood patient.”

  “Good. Is… is he okay?”

  “He’s had a couple of explosive days; nothing like we witnessed. I think his hope has kept him a bit stable.”

  I clutch my chest. Kane appears in the doorway. He lays his Glock on the nightstand and sits down. I hook my fingers into the crook of his arm.

  “Okay. We’ll be ready on our end.”

  I pin nervous eyes on Kane.


  It’s go-time.

  I’m ready.

  I am. I really, really am.

  Thirty-seven

  The dream. Probably the most important one of my life. And the most unique. Here’s how it goes down:

  One green pill, then two. The water is cold on my throat.

  I’m scared.

  “Don’t be.” Kane sits beside me on the bed. “I’m here.”

  The farmhouse bedroom is doused in soft light. It smells like vanilla. Kane wraps an arm around me. My key hangs from my neck. I grip it. The teeth cut into my fingers. I’m not dreaming?

  I lay my head on Kane’s shoulder. The door slams closed. Five locks. I look down. The key is in my hand. Five teeth.

  “I’m supposed to do something with this.”

  Kane smiles. His dimples are so deep. My mantra revives in the back of my mind. I know that I need it, so I pull on it like a string, and it comes to me as easy as plucking a rose from my garden.

  The room fills with the scent of roses at my thought. I stand up, spin in a circle. “This is my happy place.”

  “I know.” Kane leans back in a chair and watches me spin.

  The roses grow taller, and one scent consumes them all. A rainstorm. Jarron’s scent.

  Free-standing alone in the middle of the room… the door with five locks beckons me.

  I peek around it. Jarron is on the other side, bright-skinned and beautiful, his wings folded around him like a blanket. He curls on one side surrounded by see-through walls made of cellophane, his knees, his legs—every part of him hidden by his feathers. He sleeps, peaceful, like a newborn baby.

  I watch him through the hazy walls. I need to contain him, so I focus, and the walls begin to shrink in around him, tight like freezer wrap. He jerks in his peaceful sleep, but his wings are pressed so close around him. He can’t move; he can’t breathe. I loosen my hold too late. His skin ignites, red hot, and the cellophane melts.

  He fights me. I need to find his song in my head. I squeeze my fists into tight balls and search for it. I can’t find it.

  The walls begin to flicker, flames reaching the ceiling.

  “Jarron?”

  He can’t hear me. All sounds of him are empty. He’s not here. He’s not dreaming at all. I have to find him.

  “Jarron?”

  Nothing.

  The key burns into my palm. I look at it. I’m dreaming, but this time, it’s supposed to be with me.

  I insert the key into the first lock. It pops, the bolt turning over to release it.

  “Jude…” Kane is with me. He shakes his head. But this is my dream. I decide.

  “It’s okay.”

  I open the next lock. My mantra rises in my chest. Kane stands beside me, and fire burns bright all around us. He spreads his wings to shield us from the heat. A lightning bolt cracks through the ceiling. It starts to rain in the room. Jarron cries in his sleep. His skin turns dark red, like hot irons.

  I need to stop it.

  A wind blows in, and Kane’s mantra joins mine. It tangles itself deep and vibrant, like vines growing together. Vanilla bursts through the rainstorm, and white roses begin to bud along the melody. The vines crawl out of our imagination and sprawl along the walls and ceiling and the floor. Another lock snaps free with the turn of my key. Thunder rumbles. A crack of lightning. The fourth bolt breaks. Kane’s wings spread until the tips smash into opposing walls.

  In the rain, Jarron’s body cools. He draws his knees to his chest and pulls his wings all the way up over his head. The room shakes—earthquake tremors. The final lock springs free, and the door flies open.

  I’m not in control.

  “You are, Jude.”

  Jarron sits now, and the vines crawl over his legs. I look at him… his face cracks like porcelain, but it doesn’t break.

  “This isn’t working!” I scream it at him.

  “You know what to do,” he says. “You’ve always known. This is your dream.”

  This is my dream.

  I walk straight through the open door toward Jarron. I know what to do.

  Beside him, Rylin sits crossed-legged. He looks up at me, yellow fire in his eyes.

  “Come on.” I drag him to his feet. “I need you.”

  In the room, Kane stands still, his wings spread, arms clasped, face stoic. His mantra sings like a choir. Mine rejoins his. Rylin stands in the door and waits.

  “The mantra is the power to everything we are,” I say.

  “Yes.”

  “And linked?” I stretch my hand to him.

  I make him listen to the music. He smiles. A proud teacher.

  “We are stronger.”

  He steps into the room, his wings expand, stretching to match the length of Kane’s. Light green roses come to life along the vine, intermingled between the white ones. Mint meshes with vanilla, and the smell of rain on roses overshadows all of it.

  Together, we are strong.

  Jarron sleeps, like a baby, his wings curled up around him. His fire is quiet. His mantra sings a lullaby over him. With tiny fingers, it reaches out to connect with mine. I link him to me. To Kane. To Rylin. My own pair of beautiful golden wings unfurls, their tips stretching wall to wall.

  Together, my dream is reality. Jarron and Rylin are on the move.

  But… the dream is far from over.

  ***

  The door stands open now. An invitation.

  The room begins to spin around us, faster and faster, but we hold still in the middle. Outside the window, scenery buzzes past in a whir. Corn, telephone poles. Then, a bridge, a city street. Buildings.

  The wall falls and an old historical building of white-washed stucco stands in front of us.

  “What is this place?”

  “Headquarters,” Rylin answers. He takes a step. “We shouldn’t be here.”

  Jarron is beside me, quiet in my mind. He takes my hand.

  “I’ve seen it.”

  His eyes of fire pierce me to my very soul.

  “Seen what?”

  “What you do.”

  He gives me a little shove with his mind. I tumble forward, and I’m falling, falling… all the way to the center of the old building.

  I lie still on the cold floor. Someone nudges me with a foot.

  “Get up, girl.”

  I struggle to my feet. I’m in a courtroom. The same harsh courtroom I’ve seen in my dreams before. A long table. Twelve regents. The man in the middle raises a gavel, lets it fall. The thud is like thunder.

  I’ve been here before.

  I’m here now. And the door with five locks stands wide open to my left.

  The Contingent has found me.

  “This action is now in session. Bring the violators forth.”

  Hard hands take me by the arms and push me forward. Another set of hands takes hold of my brother and plants him next to me. We are the ones in chains, our wings pressed in and tied.

  “What is your defense?”

  The man in the middle looms over us, his eyes beady and smoldering. He bangs the gavel to quiet the bystanders.

  “Defense!” he yells.

  A hooded executioner enters, a broad axe in his gloved hands. He approaches my brother, readies his weapon for the blow. Jarron turns, pierces me through with his eyes of wisdom and fire.

  “It’s time.”

  And I know what to do.

  My skin heats up, hotter and hotter, the blood climbing through my veins and bringing them to the surface. They crawl over me, igniting my inner fire, and I burst into flames. My chains snap, and my arms stretch wide.

  My wings come next, like a golden fire. They span out, the length of the room, sending prisms to flit all over. My mantra bursts forth from the center of my being. It consumes me from head to toe, the sound of it rushing out of my fingers and toes and the tips of my hair to flood the room.

  Jarron shrinks behind me and vanishes. I keep him hidden, like my family always has.

  The twelve stare me dow
n.

  “What is the meaning of this? You will stop immediately!”

  The man in the middle bangs his gavel again. Mr. Connell. But… he has no power over me.

  Kane shimmers into existence to my right, Rylin to my left— both flared and hovering inches above the floor.

  “Are you ready to end this?” I ask.

  They answer with a gust of fire. I raise my hands, our separate mantras meld as one, and the room flashes with white light and goes dark.

  Thirty-eight

  My mantra hums low like warm water running from a faucet. It moves over me, soothing, the way a baby is soothed when rocked. Something great happened while I slept. I can’t recall what, but I’m smiling, so it must be good. I never want to stop smiling. I snuggle deeper into it.

  A warm spot right in the center of my belly burns like a golden ember. I know what it is—the fire in me. The sweet spot. The control tower. The on and off switch that powers my dreams. And controls them. And makes them come true.

  Literally.

  I did something magnificent because of it.

  But what?

  My brother flashes through my mind. Yes. I did something.

  I slowly open my eyes as that “something” registers. We moved my brother, and an anxious excitement attaches itself to the central warmth.

  It seems like something should have gone wrong.

  Nope. Nothing went wrong. Everything went right. I sense this in my bones. It’s why I smile.

  The drapes are drawn so tight that even the usual seam of light that always manages to nudge its way into a dark room is missing in action. The heavy darkness makes the room feel stuffy. It smells like smoke. I sit up and click on the lamp, and I see why.

  Wisps of black smoke curl up around me. I lift a sheet full of black charred holes scorched straight through. The furniture is covered in a dusting of black ash, the mirror above the dresser smeared with soot.

  “What in the world?”

  My feet hit the floor, a puff of dust swirling into my face on impact. With a cough, I pull back the drapes. The same sooty film covers them, but on the other side of it, daylight tries its best to peek through. I pull open the bedroom door.

  “Kane?”

  No answer. My heartbeat quickens. I drop a foot down one step, place my hand on the banister, and pull it back, inky black.