Blue Crow Rising; Chapter 1 part 3

In a catastrophic rush we ran through the building. She didn’t need to pull me anymore but she had a firm grip on me. But I wasn’t going to run away. I was by her side and was going to protect her from the sprites! Somehow, in the chaotic rush of the moment, I thought that I was going to prove that I could take care of her by… whacking sprites over the head? Yeah. Brilliant.

We crashed out the double front doors into the yard. It was full chaos. There was students in all shapes, everywhere, grabbing at sprites and battling them in the most (to my unmagical lens) epic of ways. Sparks were flying! Magic simmered through the air like ribbons!

Aaliyah let go of me, running towards the debris around the trees. “Grab a stick!” she called to me, doing so herself. Then, seeing as I wasn’t getting there fast enough she threw a stick at me, snapped one off a branch for herself, and whirled around to face…everything.

Because the grounds were huge. The grounds sprawled in all directions with preened green slopes, a little stream gurgling down among them, and trimmed trees here and there dotting the landscape. But the battle was all concentrated here, where the sprites were trying to destroy our sacred trees. We were smack in the thick of it.

“Get as many as you can!” ordered Aaliyah before sprinting into the chaos. I wanted to yell at her to wait for me- but that would have sounded wimpy. I was brave! Rawwwr!

So I stood there and tried not to quiver with my stupid stick in hand. Damnit! Why?!

As they say, spirits and the bloomed ones that are so inclined can smell fear. Within seconds a sprite was flashing towards me, elements in hand and teeth gnashing.

If you’ve never seen a sprite up close, their sparkling cloud doesn’t hide their shape very well. Beneath it, they sort of look like floating ghosts with evil hands and onion-shaped heads. This one had green lights sparkling around its hands and the nastiest pointy teeth I’d ever seen.

“Snack- snack,” it seemed to say, clacking its teeth together as it floated before me.

I gripped my stick with both hands. Think of Aaliyah, I told myself. Think of school. You’re never going anywhere unless you bash this thing’s brains in-

Aaaand, just as I was thinking that, it zoomed in on me. I swung the stick with a yell, a sound that was mercifully drowned away by all the sounds of a battlefield around us. My stick whizzed above the sprite’s head and I lost my balance. The sprite leaped forward. Its fangs buried into my right forearm, its elemental spell sending electric shocks into me.

Okay, now I yelled.

And then something happened.

I felt a change come over me. Something rushed through my system like hot soda bubbling in my veins. I thrashed, the electric sparks suddenly seeming faint.

I’m fucking dying, I remember thinking. Good lords, this was stupid!

As the rush continued I found myself moving – and suddenly came to with my hand closed over the sprite. Both hands.

Beneath my skin I felt the sprite pulsing. I felt the three parts of its soul throbbing with life. I heard it hissing and scrawling in a language I suddenly understood.

“Let me go!” it shrieked in that tiny, hissing, voice. “You’re not one of them! Let me go! What are you? Let me go!”

Shocked, I moved my hands. Tentatively, I pulled on what I felt and the three soul parts began coming apart. The sprite shrieked – and burst one of its own parts. It killed itself.

I gaped as the body went limp in my hands. The two other parts throbbed with life still – and it smelt. It smelt delicious, a strange aroma of death and untimely consumption and decay that called to me like a corrupt song. Suddenly I knew what an addiction must feel like. What it must be like to crave the casinos, the drugs, the things you knew you shouldn’t do.

Because I knew I shouldn’t eat the sprite.

I mean, yes, everyone eats sprites. But I wanted the soul.

Hesitant, I looked around. Maybe I was searching for a reality check. But the world felt woozy. It didn’t seem real. And somehow I just knew that no one was paying me a shred of attention, too busy searching out their own glory strikes.

So I gave in. I was lifting the sprite’s remaining two souls to my lips. Somewhere within me my rational self was wondering what was happening. I mean, can stomachs even digest souls?

But it never reached my lips. Instead, the two sprite souls sort of infused up my arms, dissolving into me, merging up through my skin.

I gasped, dropping the now thoroughly dead body. I wanted to scream as I realized that the souls were now in me. Did I digest them through my hands? Was the sprite now part of me? Did I now have five soul-parts? What was going on?

Completely freaking I fell backwards onto my ass. With a scramble I tried to get away from the inanimate body. Impulsively I wanted to flee.

That must have been the trick because suddenly I was scrambling, launching myself up, up, and flapping into the sky. It was when I was about five to six feet up, pumping my wing/arms like mad that I realized – wait a minute.

I looked down at the chaotic battlefield. I looked downer and saw my legs- now two stubby black bird legs. With a hoarse shriek I realized that I wasn’t me any longer.

With a jolt I realized I’d bloomed. Somehow. With another jolt I realized I was about to fall straight down if I didn’t do something about it.

I cawed for help. I shrieked. I flapped and flapped and wiggled my butt in the hopes of getting those feathers to do their job. Ingloriously, it made me think of pilates. Clench the buttcheeks! Wave the arms! Automatically, my legs paddled the air as well, and I must have looked like an idiot trying to run through the air.

Careening through the air, climbing up with no hopes of getting down, I found myself looping towards a tower.

Now, I want to take a minute to say that this tower wasn’t painted in brilliant orange with ‘forbidden fucking tower’ scrawled over it. It just – no one went there is all.

It also just so happened to have a gridded balcony, sort of like a safety ramp, all around the top. I aimed for that, figuring I could sit up here until I got help.

With a zoom I careened towards the tower. A side draft of wind nearly bashed me into the tower, and I didn’t so much land as I flew to the floor and stuck my legs out and began to walk and folded my arms. Skittering to a stop, I slammed sideways against the tower’s wall.

Okay, I told myself. Okay. Fuck.

Thinking of Sharing…

I’ve been thinking lately of how sharing brings me joy, and how that’s something I want to focus on more. How can I share more with y’all, and interact more? I’m not sure. Thoughts? Ideas?

On a local scale, I am going to be attending a local garden sale, where I will be selling my art (birdies all over the place!) and I am really hoping to interact with people and be able to sell my art for cheap so people can enjoy it.

On a more internet-wide scale, I’ve uploaded to Tapas, and am reconsidering wattpad. I mean, what’s the harm? You see, I’m rethinking my ‘Dreaming of Lights’ book, and am considering posting it for mostly free online. Why not?

I’m not sure I will, I will have to think on it a bit more, but this is me wondering about posting weekly chapters like I used to. Is that something that would interest you all? Let me know in the comments! I really look forward to getting some feedback on this!

Anyways, here’s a goodie! Today, while feeling back ‘in the groove’ for that story, I made a picture of Kuryo/Kyrie. So here it is! I hope you like it!

Lage’s Game: Chapter Ten, Part Two

The door to the shack creaked and rattled so loudly as it was drawn open that it almost fell off its hinges. Inside was a cluster of people huddled about a tiny fire. They looked up like owls. Terrified, huddling – and then they were angry and ready to attack.

They cried out, clutching at each other yet lurching forward as one. Ekundayo held up a hand, and said something. I wish I knew what he was saying, and they in turn. But I couldn’t understand, and would remain as if deaf to this whole conversation. The conversation rattled on, sharp retorts from person or other among the huddle, and Ekundayo answered so calmly. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I decided not to shrug him off. We might need his story to be actually believed.

Finally, the huddled people returned, not to owls, but to disgruntled sparrows or something like that. They huddled again, and took to whispering. But the conversation was over. Ekundayo smiled at me. “They welcome us,” he said sweetly to me.

“Who the fuck are they?” I muttered angrily, hugging the cloak around me. We were still standing in the doorway!

“Oh, dear, they are poor people,” he said as he drew me away from the door and back out into the cold. “They’ve, how shall we say it? They’re a society of people.”

“Okay,” I snapped as I was directed to turn and walk to another building.

“And they’ve decided we can live in their lands. It’s a sort of, commune? People that share, that hoard and spend together. All coins are to be deposited in, here,” he said as he gestured to the next building. “Come,” and he went up and rapped upon that door. It didn’t look ready to fall over. It practically did.

This door was shoved open by a person with a rat-like face, protruding hairs, and a sniffing nose. Their eyes were sunken in caverns, and they had a walkign stick in hand and a shawl about their shoulders.

They sniffed the air, then cocked their head to the side. A grin split their features.

“Ekundayo,” Ekundayo said. He drew a pouch from his belt and rattled it loudly before handing it to the blind rat.

“Ekundayo!” the person cried out. Then they sniffed again, reaching towards me. Ekundayo took their hand and guided it to my shoulder, where he patted it into me. I grimaced, but didn’t move.

“My daughter,” Ekundayo said with a twinkling smile at me. “She’s my apprentice too.”

“Oh! Oh!” the person cried out.

“This is Crow,” said Ekundayo to me. “He used to be a great dame.”

“I was elegant,” Crow sniffed. “But I am happy now!” He squeezed my shoulder and patted me. “Come in, daughter and father!”

Crow backed away into the building, shuffling and muttering. We followed, Ekundayo gesturing me in before himself. Once we were in, he shut the door behind us. The cold remained, only a little stifled by the shack’s walls.

Here, there was no fire. There was only a large table laden with coins, pouches, and all sorts of items, a straw mat in a corner, and a pile of more junk in another corner. Ekundayo dropped his pouch into the pile and began rummaging. “We need clothes for my daughter,” he commented calmly. “Her mother is going to want her back, as will the princess. She was a handmaiden, you know?”

“Oh! Do you know dame Minstrel?” Crow asked chirpily as he shuffled to his straw mat and plopped down with … no grace whatsoever.

I didn’t answer, feeling the vices of our lie tightening around us. Ekundayo sighed into the pile of junk. Loudly, he drew out a piece of clothing. “This will do!”

“What will do?” asked crow loudly. “Is she a girl? Or a boy?”

Ekundayo looked at me with a glimmer in his eye and a foolish grin on his face. He held out the tunic to me. “Hm?” he asked, to prompt me to answer.

“I’m a girl,” I said sourly. I reached a hand out for the tunic. It was a bit large, but it would do. It was sufficiently mud-colored with a hue of green about it. I would blend into the streets.

After digging me up some pants and a pair of oversized boots, Ekundayo went to sit on the cot beside Crow with his back to me so I could change.

Crow, however, had gotten a taste of conversation and seemed ready to indoctrinate. “Are you sure? You seem,” he snapped his fingers in the air before himself. “Unhappy.”

“Oh, she is unhappy,” said Ekundayo with a chuckle. I began changing angrily.

“It is not about that,” I said sourly as I pulled the boots on. Then, thinking things over, I moved to sit on Crow’s other side. Resting would be nice, I decided. A bath would be better, but that would be probably impossible in this world.

“So what is it about?” Crow asked. Then, completely ignorign me, he began prattling about how, when he was young, he never knew what was wrong, but he knew something was wrong and –

I tuned it out, glaring at Ekundayo. He grinned at me like this was great fun. I scowled and leaned against the icy wall, hugging my cloak about myself.

Then, to the sound of Crow’s exaggerated story of elegance and misery, I fell asleep.

Escape! ~ Lage’s Game: Chapter Nine, Part Two

I stared at the nearly invisible creature. Of course I wanted to get out. This was a trap question. Of course I wanted out – but what would it cost me? I peered so hard at the creature, trying to think and guess at what it wanted – and then it laughed.

It was a clear, high laugh. Menacing? Cold? It sent chills down my spine.

“I said! Enough!” the guard marched over, banging a thick sword against the bars. “You there!” and he rounded on the last cell, the one with the monster in it.

“Are you talking to me?” the hoarse voice asked. The shape twisted upwards, stretching up, up, up until it was like a tall human, facing the guard. “Do you want to fight?” It was curious, questioning like a child. The hands wrapped around the bars before the guard. But the guard had brought a lamp with him, and I finally saw the creature as he held it aloft.

It was a humanoid shape, wreathed in a large purple cloak with silver-white embellishments shrouding the eyes in a fringe that hung down to the cheekbones. The skin was black like the darkest hue of nighttime, the lips were thin, the nose hooked, and there was a grace to its smile.

“Stand back!” barked the guard, banging at the bars where the creature’s hands had been.

“Oooh,” murmured the creature. “Frightening.”

The guard paled. “Enough!” But he had already lost this battle.

“Shut up,” hissed the creature, turning away from the guard to face me. Beneath the cloak I saw a fluttering of a grey robe, a sash from which hung dozens of braids, and boots. But then the cloak was drawn fast around the creature once more.

It is probably a human, I thought to myself, but I wasn’t sure. Was it?

It crouched again before the bars separating us, its dark hands coiling around the bars. “Who brought you in here, child? Far from your world, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer, huddling on myself. The guard bellowed again. “Quiet!”

The creature turned to him, then back to me. It was a strangely silent movement. Their fabrics barely rustled. They sat down and crossed their legs before themselves. They must be human.

Breathing a sigh, the guard turned and walked away. With him went the light, and some semblance of safety.

Once the guard was back at the other end, the creature whispered. “I was brought in for murder. But you can trust me. I’m an assassin.”

I wanted to clap my hands over my ears and curl up into myself. I wanted to block out this entire strange world.

“I kill in cold blood. I don’t make them suffer. I’m not like them,” he whispered.

My senses prickled. Them? Did he know- he couldn’t, could he?

I found myself turning to look at the creature. His tilted eyes were glowing faintly, just enough to be discernible. He had a hand reached out for me, palm up.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “I can see who you are. I can tell-” and his voice dropped to barely a whisper. “What you’ve eaten.”

My breath caught. The creature chuckled. “Yes,” he murmured, coaxing me on. “Come with me, child. You won’t be safe here once they bring you to the priestesses. What they will do to you – even I wouldn’t.”

I shuddered. Now that I was looking, I couldn’t take my eyes away from theirs.

The hand drew back, and I felt that they were satisfied. “Tomorrow, no- tonight. Soon. Brace yourself, child. Rest. We will be free soon.”

I looked away then, feeling caught and guilty. Would I run with them? Was this some trap? It couldn’t be – I hadn’t given them anything! And I could still change my mind, couldn’t? Besides, how could they get me out of here?

I found myself curling up on myself, my head between my knees. As if following orders, I fell asleep fitfully.

I dreamed of Lage. I dreamed of Mother, of Father, of Kayla and her final bottle smash. It was terrible.

I woke screaming, to find the air silent and cold. There was a crispness to the air that smelt of the outside.

I looked around, wondering where I was. For a moment I was completely lost, baffled, and it wasn’t helped by what I saw.

To my right, where the creature’s cell was, a silver light was glowing. It expanded, radiating out with a breath of coolness and frost out into the cells. Then it swept back in, shrinking somewhat. It was someone’s breath, I realized. The creature’s breath, their form hidden as a shadow behind this glowing frost.

I slunk backwards, looking around for some sense of normalcy. No one was coming. No one seemed to even notice that something strange was happening.

For what felt like an eternity, I sat there with my arms around my knees. I reached out within myself, pleading with the world for help, for something.

With my head burrowed between my knees, I was jolted from my thoughts by the creature shouting. “Guard! Guard! Come quick! The girl is dead!”

I jolted up, lifting my head and looking around. The creature was standing by the bars, their glowing breath now gone. There was the sound of cursing and feet running. The guard rushed into view, lamp in hand and keys in the other.

I just sat there, frozen. Wondering what was happening, even as it unfolded before me.

It was a trap. The guard rushed up against the bars of my cell, and the creature reached out through his and yanked the guard close. In one yelp and a snap, the guard was over. The keys were now jangling in dark hands, the lamp smashing to the floor.

The silence that followed was punctuated only by the hammering of my heart in my ears. Then, the door grating open. The flames licked at the oil on the floor, lighting up the creature as he stepped out. He was a ghastly shape, tall and strange as he stepped over the fire to unlock my door.

“Come,” he said sweetly. Then he turned and walked away.

I had a choice. I could sit in this cell, or move. I moved. I didn’t know what the princesses had in store for me, but neither did I know what this creature wanted. At least with the creature, I could hopefully still run away. Find my way back to Lage, then go home. But what home was there to go back to?

I shoved that question aside as I stepped over the smoldering flames and beside the dead guard. I was going home. That was that.

As I made my way down the corridor, the creature was unlocking some doors, ignoring others. Then, as if to spite everyone, he tossed the keys into the far corner of an already locked cell that held only a skeleton.

Prisoners were rushing out, pouring and stumbling towards the stairs that led away and up. The creature turned to me. He flashed a smile of immaculate white teeth.

“Here,” he drew a cloak from the guards’ chair. “Put this on.”

Remembering the biting cold of outdoors, I did, wrapping it clumsily around my shoulders. He nodded, and we turned and ran after the vanishing prisoners.

Lage’s Game: Chapter Eight, Part Two

The walk felt endless. I wished more than once that I’d taken Lage up on his offer of his cloak. But regrets were pointless and I trudged on, refusing to be dragged by the guards. I would stand on my own two feet.

After what felt like an hour of walking, we emerged from the forest into a clearing. There, towering up out of seemingly nowhere, a gated city with a tall castle stood.

It was like something straight out of a fairytale. The walls were of white stone, two stories tall, with ramparts. There was a thick trench dug before them, filled with spears and what looked like a small frozen bed of water. There was the drawbridge that was lifted up. But before this drawbridge, on our side of the moat, was a solitary guard and several waiting horses.

“Take her on your horse,” Rebella ordered one of the guards before mounting her lovely dappled gray horse. I wanted to touch the horses, to take in all their colors – for I had never seen one up in real life before. But now was not the moment to be in awe. I was hoisted up to sit before a guard, and Rebella whirled her horse towards the drawbridge.

“Lower the drawbridge!” she called out. “The princess orders it!”

Clankings answered, and the drawbridge lowered swiftly. Rebella ordered her horse forward with a click of the tongue, and we followed her as a cluster of guards.

We passed beneath the thick of the wall, and we entered the city.

I was struck by the sight first. There was myriads of houses toppled together, stacked upon each other, and clustered in shapings that seemed to suit people of all sizes. There was some that bore tiny gnome-like doorways that were round. There were some that seemed just a little too tall, and lopsided at that too. There were others that seemed svelte and elven.

Yet the people before us couldn’t have looked more bland. They were dirty, browned with sun and exhaustion. They were monochrome in their blandness, their clothing all turned to the same shade of brown and dirt as they were. Their clothes were tattered and thin. They hastily rushed out of the way of the princess’s horse. It was that or be crushed, I guessed, for Rebella stared straight through them and seemed to pay no heed to anyone. Her horse marched on, and the people scattered like ants. The guards had their hands on the pommels of their swords, and glared angrily all around.

Whispers rose, fingers pointed, but they were far away. No one dared come near to point at me.

As we proceeded through the city, the stench let itself be known. The air was in turn crisp and cool of winter, then it was the moist warm stench of fecal remains. Then it was mold, then crisp again with another gust.

This place stinks, I realized grudgingly.

And yet, the castle that towered before us did not look like it ought to belong in a place of stink. It was tall and spired, it was magnificent. It had handfuls of turrets, towers, and pointy-topped roofs straight out of a novel. It was made of the same white stone as the walls were, and it looked surreal. I wondered if the stink would get better as we approached.

After a good hour of riding through the thick of filthy people, we were met with another wall, another gate which Rebella ordered opened – and which swung open inwards for her. Again, she rode onwards as if the world owed her something.

It was in here that the stink finally let up. Here there were snowy gardens, fluffy bushes that were topped with red winter berries. Fruit trees that were bare save for ice and snow. Here, the poor were obviously not welcome.

We rode onwards, our breath misting icily before our faces. Colorfully dressed people were seen walking about here and there. They curtsied as Rebella passed, and turned their faces away from the guards – and turned quickly back to gawk at me. They rode on horses as well, trimmed in fur cloaks and richly decorated clothes.

Finally, we had crossed the gardens. The castle stood before us like a multi layered cake, the immensity of it mind boggling. It was tall as a skyscraper, taller than I believed any medieval palace had ever been. Here, at its outer edges, it was already three flights high, and it only grew taller and more multilayered towards the middle.

Rebella dismounted, landing gracefully like a cat. People rushed forward from an open doorway, and they were not dressed in furs. They were simply clothed, and seemed to be servants. Rebella tossed her horses’ reins at them in disdain, and turned to face me.

“Bring the girl,” she ordered the guard behind me. “Hurry up!”

The guards clustered around this horse, several of them holding me while the guard behind me dismounted. Then, by several hands, I was passed down and placed on the ground like a very precious lump. Or a lump they believed might run away. But that was stupid. Where was I to run to?

With one scowl from Rebella, she turned and marched into a large doorway before us. The guards hastily followed, three of them clustering around me to hold my shoulders and half-carry me forward.

Inside, the corridor was dark, lit by the occasional lamp. The lamps were gorgeous! They had an oriental flair to them I supposed, looking all blown glass with leaves and elaborate people painted onto them and the wood pieces holding them carved as well with swirls and motifs.

Rebella paid this no heed. She marched straight on, her cloak billowing about her. I stared from one lapm to another until I saw spots. Then, as I was blinking spots out of my eyes, we reached a doorway.

Rebella shoved it open with a bang, and we were flooded with light.

We were let out into a courtyard, and I had to blink and blink to be sure it was real. Of course it couldn’t be – nothing int his world seemed to be – but it was.

It was green. There was grass, fruits trees, and so many bushes of fruits and vegetables in clusters here and there in spiralling pathways. It stretched on in all directions for a good hundreds of feet, like a small field. Up, above, a domed ceiling lined with metal spires held up twinkling glass that made this all possible.

Rebella was drawing off her cloak. She tossed it to a servant who rushed to her side to catch it before the white fur touched the ground. Turning, Rebella seized me by the shoulder and began to march forward, straight into the heart of the inner gardens.

There, a cluster of people were attending to a large chair. On this chair, lumped up in silks and fabrics, was a wizened elderly woman.

She bore some traits of resemblance with Rebella, but there was a softness to her that Rebella did not have. Also, she was half dead. Literally.

Decay clung to one side of the woman’s face, revealing bone and teeth beneath. The eye on that side was white and half lidded.

There was a strange, putrid, decaying scent as we marched through the garden towards her. SERvants stepped aside from the cluster, and Rebella thrust me forward to the elderly woman as we reached her.

“I’ve brought a card collector!” Rebella announced loudly, but not triumphantly. It was merely a fact.

A woman, middle aged and robed in vibrant red, stepped forward from the side of the throne. “Why would you disturb mother with that?” She had gold earrings, gold paint around her eyes, and hair that was intricately shaped in coils atop her head.

“Maybe she can tell us how to cure mother,” said Rebella coldly, not looking at her sister. Instead she was looking somewhere aroudn their grandmothers’ knees. I could not see what there was to look at there.

“You’re disturbing her,” snapped the sister, but she silenced as the Queen, I supposed she was Queen, lifted a hand. This hand was good, not rotten. It had long nails that were immaculately cared for, and several gold bangles around the wrist.

“Come here,” said the old woman, her one good eye trained one me.

A New World~ Lage’s Game: Chapter Eight Part One

By ‘home’, Lage had meant a hut, really. It was just a bulge of twigs and leaves among the snow and trees. I suppose he was trying to be nice, taking me to his home. There, he had said in the brisk walk over, he would make me a good hearty stew.

There was to be no stew.

Before the hut stood several figures. They were conspicuously not made of stone though they stood as still as it. They were alive, and that was to be trouble.

There was one woman, tall with onyx skin like pearls, bearing a white fur cloak and hood that draped to the ground. Beneath, I caught glimpses of a green dress and metal accents. She bore a staff that was sculpted and carved intricately. The way she held her head and stood gave off a sense of royalty.

To her left and right were guards in medieval tunics and cloaks, complete with shields and swords drawn.

Lage muttered something unintelligible under his breath as we stepped from the trees into the small clearing before the hut. Reaching out an arm, he drew me slightly behind himself.

“Lage,” said the woman with the white cloak. Her words were icy.

“Rebella,” said Lage cautiously, tilting his head downwards not so much respectfully as carefully. “What can I do for you?”

Rebella did not answer, her eyes flickering to me then back to Lage.

“There has been some trouble,” said Lage slowly.

Rebella’s lip curled. “As usual. The bonds ought to have been severed centuries ago.” With a nod to her guards she said “Kill the girl.”

“No!” exclaimed Lage, drawing his sword and punting me behind him with a swipe of the leg. I fell over, tumbling into the snow.

“You don’t want to do that!” Lage was saying as I scrambled back up to my feet behind him.

“Oh? I’m certain I do,”said Rebella with a sneer.

“I will tell the Queen, and you – you will suffer the consequences!” Lage barked.

Rebella sneered again, but seemed to reconsider. “Card collectors cause nothing but trouble,” she said to me “And they have no rights here.”

“Unless they are invited by a card bearer,” said Lage. “I invited her! She is a guest between worlds. You cannot deny that! Would you cause a war between worlds for your vanity?”

Rebella moved to the right, so gracefully I was entranced. Her eyes were fixed upon me in utter disdain. “There has been trouble that you know not of,” she said icily. “I think we ought to kill her.”

“Whatever trouble, I doubt it’s her fault! Don’t murder a child!”

There seemed to be a light behind Rebella’s eyes. “Her soul is hardly young.” But she gestured to her soldiers, who had drawn their swords. “Put your swords away.” To Lage she said “The Queen is ill.”

“The crown will not pass to you,” said Lage slowly, wary as he lifted his hand from his sword.

Rebella sneered. “I would not be here if I’d done the poisoning. No, rather,” she reached under her cloak and drew a pouch out from her belt. It was of soft brown leather, but held something clunky and pointed within. She waved it before herself. “Guess.”

Lage made a sort of shrug. “The Tael poisoned an arrow?”

Rebella laughed. “I would not want a card collector dead if so.” Ruefully, she drew the pouch open and drew out a black handgun. Lage gasped. A shudder went down my spine. ‘They’ were here. It had to be. Were they everywhere?

The gun was tossed to the ground between us. Lage jumped back and I flinched. “Be careful with that!” Lage muttered.

“The worlds have been crossed,” Rebella said angrily, glaring at Lage. “Murder has been attempted – on our Queen no less. War must be declared. A line is to be drawn between us, and them. Make your choice, Lage.”

I looked to Lage, then Rebella.

Lage heaved a breath that misted out between us. “They are after the child as well. They murdered her family. She,” he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Is one of us.”

“’Us’?” Rebella asked pointedly. “You think she can join? That I would permit that?”

Lage hesitated. “Her soul is old, like you said,” he started.

Rebella lifted her eyebrows in an angry question.

Lage looked down at me. More hesitation.

“Say it!” barked Rebella.

“She has an ancient soul, is all I’m saying,” said Lage in an obvious fib. A smile played on his face. “What more can I tell you? I think she would be an asset. To you. To this kingdom.”

Rebella’s gaze narrowed. “Who is she? The Fool? The Emperor? Tell me, and I might let her live.”

Lage rolled his eyes. “Not all old souls are known to you. Besides, I-” he hesitated again. Then, shaking his head, he continued. “She is but a child now.”

“I don’t care!” yelled Rebella. “If I want her dead she will be dead!”

Anger surged in me. A tingling came over me and I decided that Rebella, for all her grace and beauty, was my enemy. For all my admiration, I wanted to murder her.

Rebella’s eyes landed on me. “Do you sense that?” she asked. Lage nodded, looking down at me glumly.

“She is an ancient,” murmured Rebella in awe. Greedy awe. Stooping over, she peered even more at me. I wanted to punch her.

“Maybe an Annunaki,” suggested Lage playfully, and I felt he was gambling with something, or goading her on.

“Shut up!” Rebella snapped. “You wouldn’t know them if one punched you in the throat.”

Lage sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “As a matter of fact, I think I have been punched by one-”

“What part of shut up don’t you understand?” barked Rebella, straightening. With a nod, she ordered her guards. “Take the girl. I’ll keep her.” With a sneer to Lage she said “Mine now.”

Lage lifted his hands to his shoulder in a ‘not my problem’ gesture. Then, eyes widening, he stooped over me and, cupping a hand to hide his mouth, whispered in my ear “Don’t tell her you ate my card!”

The next instant, the guards were dragging me away from him. “What did you tell her?” Rebella was shouting, marching up to Lage.

Lage held up his hands to his shoulders. “Not to make you angry. That’s all.”

“You wish,” hissed Rebella before whirling around and marching away into the trees. The guards followed, hauling me along by the arms. I took one look back, and Lage waved miserably at me.

Photo by Ave Calvar Martinez on Pexels.com

Lage’s Game ~ Chapter Six Part One

Kayla slammed a bottle of vodka down onto the kitchen table. The table was a round thing, wooden and solid. The kitchen was small, but bright and cozy with some dangling plants here and there.

Shaking, Kayla put together a drink for herself. For once she didn’t try and smile at me. She just squeezed out that lemon – then tipped the whole drink back.

Straight aways, making a face, she poured herself another one. Then she sat down, adjacent to me. She put her head in her hands, fingers running through her blonde streaked curls. Then she looked up at me. She was empty, haggard.

“I-” she started, but then was lost for words. She drew the vodka drink to herself.

“They’re here, that’s what it means,” I said flatly, unicorn in my lap. Wretchedly, it still comforted me. It felt like a survivor now, like me.

“Hon,” she said, voice trembling. “The police had that, the fact it’s here,” she took a deep inhale. “They gave it away.”

“To them,” I said stoically.

Kayla nodded, eyes shimmering with tears. “They’re here,” she croaked. “I thought – that if we left the city,” she picked up the vodka drink and tipped some back.

“It’s okay,” I said sternly, knowing that was the right thing to say.

It wasn’t. She burst into tears, sobbing. “It’s not!” she sobbed. She covered her mouth with a hand, tears trickling down her cheeks. Shaking, she drew a large breath. “I’ll get a security system,” she babbled. “I- we’ll figure something out. We can move.”

“Again?” I asked. “They’ll follow us.”

She tossed back her vodka with a gulp. “Nunavut or something,” she mumbled. Then she rose, still trembling. “Let’s go to bed. Sleep always helps. We will feel better tomorrow morning.”

I didn’t want to tell her that they almost always struck by night. I just nodded, stomach tight. I didn’t tell her that I still needed supper. What point was there?

Slowly, lights were switched on for us to walk upstairs to a small bedroom where she drew out blankets from the closet. Then, quite suddenly and haphazardly, Kayla put all the blankets away and announced that I would sleep in the bed next to her. I didn’t argue. I just put my pajamas on in the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

That night, I lay on my back with eyes wide open. The moonlight drifted in through the thin curtains. Kayla shifted and shifted. Finally, an hour later, she fell asleep.

I lay there and listened for the crick of the door. I listened, body tense with every bird chirp and cuckoo from outside. I listened, heart pounding in my throat and mouth turning dry. I checked the glowing clock by the bed, watching the time seemingly freeze – only to tick off a number every so often. It was agonizing. Then, three am struck.

I heard a footstep almost in time with the flickering change on the clock. I froze, every muscle tense. I gripped my hand in my pocket, clenching my keys that I had snuck into bed. I was going for the eyes this time. No hesitation. They wanted to send a message? So would I.

Soft, quiet, thumps were barely audible. The stairs creaked a warning. I hoped Kayla wouldn’t wake. She’d just get hurt and get in the way. No, this was my battle.

The footsteps stopped before the closed bedroom door. For three heartbeats, nothing. Then, the doorknob turned with a click. The door swung open – and squeaked oh so loudly.

Kayla gasped, sitting up in bed. With a grappling scramble, she flicked the light on from her bedside. Light glowed gently out from the lampstand near her side of the bed.

I Had sat up despite myself, and Kayla was gulping for air, looking from me to the opened door. “Stay there,” she whispered before picking up a beer bottle from beside her bed.

Then, as bravely as she could, she walked to the darkness of the corridor. The beer bottle was lifted as she switched on the lights in the hallway.

She yelped, then stepped back. She was frozen stiff, but then she shook herself. “There’s nothing!” she announced. Turning her back on the hallway in a stupid move, she announced to me with wild eyes “There’s nothing!”

Then she looked again into the hallway, as if to make sure.

“What did you see?” I asked, stepping out of the bed. I walked to her side. She glanced from me to the hallway.

“A man. He was wearing green. It- but he just vanished. Must have been a shadow,” she said, looking around once more.

I walked out into the hallway. I wished I could sense leftover energies, like some psychics could. What did that man want? I even walked to the spare room. The door was locked.

“They couldn’t have gone in there so quickly,” said Kayla tensely. “Come back to bed.”

I did. Again, we lay down. Kayla set the beer bottle back on the floor beside her – and there was the sound of tires crunching on the road. It stopped before our house.

“They’re here,” a male voice announced from the hallway.

Kayla leaped up. Bottle in hand, she stood by the bed, shaking all over. A shadow stepped out of the shadows and into our bedroom.

“They’re here,” the man repeated, and I saw an outline of a cloak on his form. “What are you going to do?”

I stepped out of the bed, the floor cold to my bare feet. Ice prickled over my skin. The moment had come. The final showdown – or so I hoped.

“Who are you?” asked Kayla. “What do you want?”

“I’m not with them, if that answers anything,” he said. “But you will need to decide fast.”

“I’m killing them,” I announced breathlessly, keys in hand and ready to scratch and maim.

“I won’t let you do that,” he said somberly. Downstairs, the front door softly clicked open. He whispered now. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to kill them,” I repeated.

Lage’s Game ~ Chapter Five Part One

Trigger Warning: Violence!!!

The next morning was the doctor. If I had listened to Kayla on the drive there, I would have realized we weren’t going to school.

Instead, we drew up to the hospital. It was squat, dirty cream colored, and essentially a glorified square. There was some attempts at grass and greenery, but it remained a cement cube in a city.

The doctor was somewhat like that. He was dusty, old, white, and seemed to just stare at me. I tried to tell him about the man in green. I tried to tell him about the board game. The words choked up in me and I didn’t know how to start. How to begin, how to let it out.

I found tears streaming down my face and I pulled a tissue from the box.

“I’m upset,” I managed to say.

I got excused from final exams. My marks would be tallied from those of my year. I left the office, threw my tissues into the garbage, and sat in the waiting room with my unicorn. Kayla had said to wait for her here. She was doing some phone calls and would be with me soon.

I looked up when the door opened. It was not Kayla.

“Hey,” said the big man that was recognizable even without the ski mask or suit. He was in plain clothes and had a chiseled face that spelled danger. “Let’s go.”

AS the door swung shut behind him, I saw several other men out there. They had come for me in force. All four of them, for one little girl? Cowards. What more did they want from me? I had probably already digested the card and rendered it useless.

I guessed then that they wanted my death. They wanted to punish me for destroying the card. To make an example of me of sorts.

Well. I rose to my feet without thinking. I glared this big man down. Coward.

To my right, across the waiting room, the secretary was busy with her official business, picking up the phone to dial someone. I took a deep breath.

“Come, on,” said the man in a dangerous intone.

I marched out the door, a cold sense of purpose coming over me. I wanted revenge. I wanted to slaughter, main, kill, so badly it felt like I would burst from it. It was like a rising tide, a super-sense coming over me and making me tingle all over, like a volcano about to blow.

Out of the door I walked into the other three men. One placed a hand on my shoulders and, as a group, they began walking me out of the building.

“Hey! Hey!” Kayla had not been far, was just down the hallway. I heard her cry from behind us. In a glance over my shoulder, I saw her begin to run towards us, phone in hand and eyes wide. I could hear her shoes clop-clopping, but the men were faster. The one who had me by the arm took off, darting forward. I was lifted up in his arms. My unicorn fell out of my grasp, tumbling away.

In a blurr I saw the ceiling, was pressed into the mans’ shirt- and saw the two other men stay behind.

Something snapped in me. They were going to hurt Kayla. Innocent, stupid Kayla. My rage boiled over.

I heard myself screaming, and began kicking. I kicked the man who was carrying me in the face. I bit his hand. He did not slow. The exit sign flashed above us, and we were darting down the stairs.

I thrashed, but was over his shoulder now. The second man was in tow, and now we were bursting out the stairs into fresh air.

In the sprint across the flimsy grass, I screamed for all I was worth. I thrashed, bit wildly and gouged my fingers into eyes. The man stumbled. I was thrown and landed in a tumble and scrape on the asphalt.

I was on my feet, the world reeling into sharp focus. There was the man before me clutching his bloody face, another marching towards me, and two more coming out of the building.

Then, to the left, observing, the man in the green cloak.

I drew my keys from my pocket and gripped them tight. I was going to take out eyes. I was burning with my success, was powerful in my rage.

“I’m going to make sure you can’t hurt anyone else!” I heard myself declare. In a rush my vigilante streak was coming out. I’d get them for what they had done to mother. I’d get them so bad.

The man in green was walking over, just slightly faster than the other men. “Get behind me,” I heard him say as he stepped between me and them.

I hissed between my teeth, jumping to the side just in time to see the men collide.

The first man threw a punch, and the green-cloaked intruder dodged, then punched the first in the gut.

I gaped as the henchman doubled over. I was unhurt. The figment of my imagination was… fighting? I stood there and watched as the medieval man threw punches and my kidnappers landed on the asphalt.

Then, he turned to the man who was clutching his face. Bloody and still covering his face with a hand, the wounded man tottered up.

I screamed. “Kill him!”

The green cloaked man did not. Instead he stood back as the wounded man tottered towards the car. He was going to get away!

With a yell, I lunged forward, keys in hand like a knife. The wounded man grabbed my wrist and threw me at the car. I slammed against the back door. Hands gripped at me, and I was yanked forward and back, jolted between the two men who wrestled for me.

“Let her go!” growled the medieval man, and the henchman gave up. With a shrug he threw me towards the other, and jumped into the car. With a rev of the motor, he backed up the car out of the parking spot. I was pulled back and away, turned into the folds of the green cloak. In the distance, I heard the car driving away.

I squirmed and was let go. Stepping back in a stumble, I looked up at my rescuer. He was frowning down at me.

“You’re real!” I declared.

He paused. My gaze jumped from him to the henchmen on the asphalt. Where were my keys? Right there, where the car had been. I grabbed them up and –

“What are you doing?” the man asked, grabbing my shoulder to stop me.

I wrestled myself free only to be grabbed again. “They’re unconscious!” he insisted. “Don’t attack them!”

I wrestled, but he held me back by the scruff of my collar. I was almost out of my jacket when I heard the wailing of a siren. Security!

Then, I fell forward so suddenly that I hit the ground on my hands and knees. I looked up – and the man in green had vanished.

Welcome to Circlet School ~ Chapter One Part One

I stood on the street corner, waiting for my lift. I had my bags piled around me, and was wearing my black trenchcoat to try and retain some semblance of normalcy. Still, people were giving me weird looks. Must be… I wasn’t sure what, actually. My aura? I’d cleansed and smudged though! Plus my pentacle was hidden.

Then ‘the car’ arrived.

Of course, I knew which one was my lift the minute it pulled up. I could hear it coming too, and that wasn’t because I was psychic or anything. It was the blaring folk metal music that tipped me off.

“Nice hat!” the passenger called out as the car pulled to a stop before me. “Circlet school, am I right?”

Oh right, my hat. It was black too, and was a steampunk thing. Maybe that’s why people were staring.

“Yup,” I nodded, hefting up one of my three bags. “Circlet school indeed.”

The passenger jumped out to help me. She was scrawny, but full of energy. She was barefoot, in hippie peasant skirts, and a purple tank top. Her dreadlocks fell all the way down her back.

I couldn’t help but wonder whether dreadlocks were considered ‘professional’. But hey, this was Circlet school. Maybe, probably, things were different there than in most schools.

Bags packed in the trunk, more like squished in with their bags, I let myself into the back seat. The passenger hopped back into the front.

“I’m Emma,” said the woman who had helped me out, “And this is Aurora.”

Aurora nodded curtly at me. Okay, fellow goth in the house! She had thick black lines around her eyes, red eyebrows painted on, and lolita curls. And a corset. She shoved the car forward aggressively, punting our way into oncoming traffic.

“I’m uh, Thunder,” I said half-heartedly. Was I going to be the only male teacher at this school? Maybe, actually.

“Nice!” said Emma, turning around. “Is that your magical name? Mine is Crystal!”

“Hi Crystal,” I said with a forced smile.

“So, you excited?” asked Aurora.

“Very excited,” I said. “very much so.” Yeah, there I go, repeating myself. Wow, social skills.

“I mean, this is a Wiccan school!” cheered out Crystal. “Can you believe it? I can’t?”

“I feel very lucky to have this opportunity,” I said, sounding like something off a pamphlet.

“Yeah,” chimed in Aurora.

Then, the fateful question. “What do you think of her?”

“Who?” I asked, trying to buy myself more time.

They both looked at me in the rearview mirror. “The principal. Didn’t you meet her?” asked Crystal happily.

“Oh, yeah, I met her,” and I tried not to turn red in the face. “She’s uh,” I cleared my throat. I half heartedly hoped they would inject something. No such luck. They waited.

“She’s special,” I said feebly.

“Good special or bad special?” asked Crystal peppily.

“She kind of makes me want to follow her into battle,” popped in Aurora before slamming the brakes.

“Well uh,” I searched my mind to think of something professional to say. “She’s-” I shrugged and decided for honesty. “She seems in charge. Seems really smart.”

They nodded in unison. We wove through traffic, then eeked out onto a highway. There, trees began running past, just beyond the massive Quebec ditches.

“So are you both Wiccan?” I ask eventually. After all, we knew our craft names, we could talk about that, right?

“Eclectic!” chirped Crystal, raising her hands in the air as if to represent.

“I’m a druid,” said Aurora coolly. “I used to be a wiccan though, so I know all about it.”

“Oh yeah? Were you in a coven or group?”

“No coven,” she snorted. “I’m a solitary.”

“Oh,” I felt myself depress a little.

“You?” Aurora stabbed with those eyes and that eyeliner. “Coven or no?”

“Coven born and raised,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, but actually managing ‘sheepish’. “Gardnerian.”

Crystal turned around in her chair at that. “Whoah! You were raised wiccan?”

“Yeah,” I admitted with a grin. “It was nice.”

“Nice,” said Aurora with solid approval. “I was raised Protestant.”

“Yeah?” I nod along.

“I was atheist,” chirps in Crystal. “Not bad though.”

Aurora scowls but nods. I intuit that her upraising wasn’t ‘not bad’.

“Hey,” I pipe up. “The principal, she must be Wiccan, right? I guess? I mean, she’s starting this school?”

Crystal nods, but Aurora frowns. “I don’t know. Wicca is the largest branch, maybe it was just easier to start.”

“Oh, yeah,” I admit. Somehow that makes me feel kind of lonely. I was expecting to find other Gardnerians here, for some reason. Certainly not a lolita druid.

We cycled through farmlands after farmlands, fields and patches of forest plantations (and the odd unkept place). We were definitely going into the boonies, so to speak.

After nearly an hour of this (and talking about crystals and which chakra we thought we had that was blocked), we took a sharp turn down a dusty dirt road that was lined with pine trees. Then, like a revelation, it dawned on us. A vision – not exactly of splendor.

It was a long rectangular building. Gray, dilapidated, and it made me want to run off in the complete other direction.

There was a sense of doom to it as we circled around a giant (and I mean, giant) pine tree and took a turn into the crunchy gravel driveway.

There, pressed and ready, was the principal. And, oh crap, was she ever taller than I remembered her being. There was a security guard standing beside her, and I was more afraid of her, thank you very much.

So let me give you a picture. The principal was tall, but her aura was impressive. She was wearing a light gray suit, her silver hair hanging down to mid-chest and her pants pressed impeccably. Her mouth was set in a thin line. Beside her, heeling perfectly, was a fat-looking blonde-white corgi.

The security guard was slouching, balding, and was just missing a piece of grass in his mouth to complete the look.

And the building! It was… Gray. Overshadowed by giant pines. There was a miniature pond between the building and the road, and it looked dilapidated too. Beyond the building, a field stretched, hemmed in on all sides by thick pine trees.

Was I the only one reading this place as a miserable disaster in the making? Apparently. Crystal launched herself out of the car. She took two steps and twirled on herself, arms held out and face lifted to the sun. “Oh, this place is perfect! The aura here is incredible!”

Aurora and I stepped out of the car somewhat slower, but I was still the slowest. Aurora strolled around the car, and I saw that she was wearing a long gothic skirt and boots. I, forgetting my hat in the car, stepped out just in time to hear the principal fairly growl, pointing at Crystal’s bare feet.

“Shoes!”

“Oh,” Crystal looked down at her feet as if surprised to find them bare. Then, cocking a smile at the principal, she stepped back to the car and put on some eco-friendly leather somethings.

“Good,” and the principal nodded. Her eyes scanned the rest of us, checking our feet. Then she swept us up and down, probably checking everything else she had inscribed in our contracts. With a frown, she nodded as if we were barely passable. “Alright. Welcome.”

Yeah, welcome. I forced on a smile. “It’s nice to be here,” Aurora said.

“Yeah,” I chipped in lamely. The principal’s smile stiffened as she looked each of us over once more.

“Bring your bags,” she ordered. “Your rooms are this way.”

Okay, I hopped to it. Crystal and Aurora were somewhat slower, but I felt a miltary-esque sort of performance was wanted here.

Within seconds we had our bags out (my hat still forgotten in the car) and we were following our principal into the building.

Inside this entrance was a long corridor, simply put. Rooms lined either side, with doors every so often.

“This is the lowest floor,” the principal said as we walked past the cream painted walls. “This is where the early grades will have their classrooms. Second floor is the last two levels, and top floor is the laboratories and the library.”

Oh, you could sense excitement sparkle around us as she said that word. ‘Library’. I grinned, imagining what every pagan probably dreamed of, great big tomes of magic and volumes of folklore. As if reading my mind, Crystal piped up. “What sort of books will there be in the library?”

“For now, the standard,” said the principal. “Folklore, mythology, and several popular books. Unfortunately, we do not have a huge budget yet for books.”

I found myself still grinning, thinking that maybe my sense of doom was misplaced. This couldn’t be so bad, could it?

We reached a large dead left turn, and passed through a modern set of double doors. “This leads us to the rooms,” the principal said, gesturing to what looked very much like the rest of the building, just with more doors. “As the rest of the building, the students are divided by the floors, with the staff living on the highest floor.”

At the end of the corridor we were let into a brightly lit stairwell. Up we went. My bag’s straps were digging into my shoulders as we walked up. Crystal was puffing and Aurora was red in the face, but their general mood was good.

Up on the third floor, there was more fresh paint and more and more rooms. It really was a ‘one scene’ building. One picture, and you’d have seen the whole thing. There were no posters, no colors, no nothing.

Oh wait, there was one poster. The principal marched us up to it and made a point of pointing at it, turning to face us as she stood beside it. It was a giant (and I mean, it was as tall as she but stuck up on the wall) poster of a black and white printing of rules that I vaguely remembered from the contract. “The rules you’ve all agreed to,” she said crisply. “I expect you all to adhere to them at all time. If you forget them,” she gestured with her hand. “They’re right here.”

O-kay. Sure.

She turned and began pointing out rooms. “You’ve all been assigned rooms already, by order of your time of contract signing. You are not permitted to change or swap rooms, and you are solely responsible for the contents of your rooms and the cleanliness thereof.”

“Are we allowed animals?” Crystal chirped happily.

Snap! Like a robot, the principal pointed to a rule mid-way through the paper. “No,” she said dryly. Then, pointing down at her corgi, she said “Service animal.”

“Ohh,” said Crystal. Then, stooping over, she pulled a huge grin at the dog. “What’s your name? What do you do?”

“None of your concern,” said the principal with a hint of impatience. She checked her watch on her wrist. “Now, deposit your luggage. Unpack. In half an hour, we will hold circle out back, around the fire pit with the rest of the staff. You should be able to find it, it’s the only thing there.”

O-kay. Okay, sure.

“Don’t be late,” she said sharply before turning around and marching to the stairwell.

For a moment, we all just stood there, watching her go with the security guard. Then, as soon as that door shut and her footsteps died away, we all exhaled.

“I didn’t remember her being that strict,” said Crystal wistfully.

“Me neither,” said Aurora, shocked. “But I guess she is the principal.”

“What’s her name again?” I asked. “I don’t remember it.”

The two stared at me, then down at their shoes. “Don’t remember,” said Aurora.

“Hmm,” Crystal said, nodding to herself.

“Oh, okay,” I said to myself. “Well,” and I set down my bags with a thud. “Let’s do this.”

The doors that were unclaimed had our names on them. Apparently the rest of the staff was already here, for apart from us, there were no other names stuck on the doors.

My room was smack beside Crystal’s. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, I was going to find out soon.

It was a medium sized room, obviously having housed two bunkbeds and a chest or so before. Now it housed a bed, a desk, and a small handtable.

Quickly, I unpacked the essentials, laying out my altar hastily on the handtable and checking to be sure nothing had broken. I shoved my clothing bag at the foot of my bed, moving on to unpack my essential teaching basics onto my desk.

No matter what though, I checked my phone for the time every five minutes. I absolutely did not want to be late for- circle? Were we doing a ritual? Already?

After fifteen minutes I declared myself done. Leaving my room behind, I locked it (the key had been on the desk), and found Aurora already waiting for me in the hallway. She was staring at the giant poster.

“I didn’t know we weren’t allowed to wear colored belts,” she said with a frown.

“Oh,” I said. I vaguely remembered it being in the rules, along with a host of other things. Such as no cursing. No pointing fingers or wands at students. No spitting or throwing salt at people. No hex jars. No spinning counter-clockwise. No poppet dolls of fellow staff or students.

The list seemed to go on and on and on as we stood there and read them.

“What denomination do you pin her as?” Aurora asked under her breath.

“Seems like a ritual magician,” I muttered.

“Hey!” Crystal whisked over as Aurora snorted to herself. “Are we ready to go?”

Aurora pointed to Crystal’s feet. “Shoes.”

“Oh!” Crystal laughed and ran back into her room. When she returned, she had her leather things back on. “Do you think she’s really strict about everything?” she asked hopefully. “Maybe she’s just trying to make an impression, you know?”

I seriously doubted that. I did, however, have the feeling that we had been reeled into more than we had planned.

/////

Chaos & Kuryo (novel 3) Chapter 9 part 2

Kuryo Pov

Things were now moving in the ship. We were breaching an atmosphere, launching into a magnetic field – I could hear all this through the spirits of the beings that strolled around with purpose now. We were about to touch down onto their home planet. There, something was to be done with us. I caught glimpses of a platform, of wages and wares – we were to be sold.

Hah. I may not be Charr, I may not be the world’s greatest planner, but I could wing up an idea here and there. Slowly, I’d attached myself to strings within the souls of these beings. Like a web, I’d spread my connections and control. Now, like a spider at the center of my web, I’d spread my lies and was partly in control. Not too much so as to create a problem that they would notice. No, just enough to have my way.

I’d fed them the idea that my pod was special. I was already sold. My tube was to be set aside and not unloaded with the others.

I wondered how far I could push this idea. Could I have them release me outright? I wasn’t sure. I’d decided it safer to play, well, safe. I would be unboarded differently. Not sent to the slave market.

This planet was shaped suspiciously like earth, a largely blue blob in the center of a galaxy. I sensed a mirroring, a sort of discord caused by two things that were so alike yet essentially different in my mind.

I saw the planet through the eyes of the pilots, watched and experienced their anticipation as we circled lower and lower to the cities.

Here, the cities peaked in large spires. Something about them was strange to me. Aside from these peaks, there was very little tall buildings. Very little growth. The cities were small still, the forests large.

It was when they reached the crude docking bay that I sensed it. The discord wasn’t just within me, it was in here too.

As the pilots left the ship, happily stretching their legs out into the fresh air of this world, I saw through their eyes humans gawking at them. Humans who rushed out of their way. Peasants, the aliens thought. Lowly creatures. So stupid, another thought.

They strolled away, and I let them slip from my grip. I needed the captain’s focus. She was supervising the moving of their bounty, of all the tubes containing the future slaves and pets. She had mine taken from the ship and set aside beside the ship. The others were loaded onto hover carts that whizzed them away.

It was all a strange contrast. Here were the humans dressed in medieval attire with huts for houses lining the streets, and there were the aliens with their great ship. The difference in them could be felt in their pride and superiority.

I Let the captain forget about me. She strolled away, off to visit a brothel. The other tubes were all gone. I was left unsupervised.

“Suzy,” I whispered to her soul, shaking her gently. “We need to enter my body again. Come with me.”

Suzy woke with a start, looking around with big eyes. She moaned. “We’re here! They’re going to sell us!”

“No they won’t. Come with me.” and I slipped down into my body, waking it with a start.

My limbs ached from not having moved enough. My head swam with low blood pressure, or so I guessed. Suzy slid into me, taking the back seat so to speak. She was like an extra subconscious, an extra battery in my mind.

Looking around, I latched onto my next victim. A human with a weak mind but a curious nature.

Come closer, I urged him.

Almost immediately, he did. Like he was just waiting for my invitation.

Just press that button, I thought sweetly in his mind. Let’s see what it does.

He did. It almost seemed too easy. But at that instant the glass around me (or whatever material it was) opened and the water burst out, releasing me.

The man yelled and jumped back, my hold on him broken in his surprise. I didn’t wait around. Shifting form, I donned my wings and flew up into the air. Wings pumping, the wind whistled past me as I flew off.

“We did it! We’re free!” Suzy squealed, celebrating loudly in my mind.

I didn’t really listen. I focused on flying higher, higher, so high that the air grew thin and I found myself at the top of one of the spires. I landed there on a balcony, thinking that I should be safe enough here.

But what is it with me and balconies? Every time I pick one, it seems like trouble breaks loose.