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Bloom couldn’t remember the last time she had run so fast. It was as if her legs were the strongest and fittest they had ever been, as if wings stuck at her ankles and calves pushed her into the skies, bringing her to bounce further on the way. As she knew too little of other elements’ magic her abilities were confined to her fire magic, which she couldn’t use as it was prohibited. And by the looks of the incident at the hotel room, she was going to be caught quicker than she could afford.
Air streamed into her lungs, burned her insides, but it didn’t bother her. She discovered a new freedom of motion, something she had never experienced as such in the First World, back home. No. Home it was not. No more. Running for her life, Farah’s image still so present in front of her inner eye, she felt empowered to a degree that let her literally combust. She was like dancing ashes in an inferno, volutes spiraling up and down, holding her at arms’ length into clouds of smoke. She was fire, furnace and flame all the same and all at once.
The night was cold but she ran and ran and ran, until she stopped at the corner of a street. She was panting and choked on her saliva, leaving her mouth dry. She needed a place to go. Frantically, she opened her backpack and fetched her jeans. She undressed shoes and pajamas and stuffed the latter in her bag. A few seconds later, checking Stella’s ring and the medallion were still safely stored in her pocket, she laced her shoes and shouldered her rucksack. She went to the corner of the street, hiding in the shadows, but heard no sign of pursuit. Heart racing in her chest, she thought quickly about the situation. She had taken on running in a direction without knowing where to go and now she was somewhere in a metropolis she knew nothing about. But judging by her surroundings and the localities, she was still in the red quarter.
Cold crept past her neck underneath the thin layer of her sweatshirt. With a squeeze in her heart she remember her warm leather coat with woolen inner lining, forever lost in the raging flames of the fire she had ignited. She had only that what she wore and the rest of her stuff in her backpack. She looked left and right, checking that no one had seen her, and started to walk the street, hood on, head bent, trying to keep to herself and look as inconspicuous as possible.
What exactly had happened? The last thing she remembered was she had dreamed. But unlike the other times, it had felt real and long, and her reactions had been ‘in-time’. Like those times when she had drunken too much tea or water before going to bed, and needed to use the bathroom, and instead sat down and peed through a chair. Who didn’t have those kinds of dreams? Well, the difference was she had her bladder under control. But her fire magic? Boy, fuck! She had burned down half the place, man! She hadn’t herself under control.
And the more she thought about it, the worse it got. She couldn’t shake the blame off her, that she had been Farah’s murderer. She hadn’t been to therapy, nobody knew about her conscience and the images that haunted her. She was the reason why the world, the Otherworld, looked as it did. She had stripped the world of its only hero, and for whatever reason, she was not the messiah.
On the other hand, if that dream proved right, it offered a plausible explanation to what had possibly happened. What if the powers and the magic had switched vessels? What if dream-Farah had showed her the truth and she had only been a bridge? Would she be anything else but a puppet in a much larger scaled game, where Farah was the real puppeteer?
This sudden realization made her choke and she needed a moment to steady herself, face to the wall. The flashing lights were so glaring and the random sounds so loud. It was the shock, adrenaline rushing through her system. It made sense. She had been abused for her Dragon Flame abilities, by the woman she had vowed to love and protect. That’s why she had never heard a love confession from Farah, who had kept her distance and left her in the unknown. Rosalind had never lied, on the contrary. Truly Farah was not the one she wanted her to be. But who was Farah anyway? And was it important to find this out, when she was in the middle of a chase, trying to hide somewhere in an unknown city?
Bloom couldn’t and didn’t want to make up her mind about the older woman’s motives, as these uninvited doubts began to sneak past her reason, clouding her vision. As if on cue sirens sounded in the distance. Guided by her footsteps, she went down a flight of stairs that led to a cellar closed by a metal door. Sweat broke in her neck and at her armpits. She pressed a hand against the pane and – it opened. Whether there was a god or a bunch of deities watching over her, Bloom decided it was her lucky day and entered the premise. At least if it were dry and dark she would be able to spend the night there. She just hoped there were no rats.
***
The pale crescent moon caressed her face. Other than the sun, the night star conveyed a power the living creatures of the surface were not intended to understand, or grasp with their mere limited spirits. But here, in the realms of no borders, where the moon sang to the nightingales and the shadows and the wind blew like a living organism, Manifesta could merge with every mind. It was hers to connect with the planetary thinking hive. It had taken her decades of practice to be able to filter the minds and make the distinction between gibberish and interesting information. In the end, it had paid off.
Meeting the Dragon Flame on her own had been a risk, one she had gladly taken. It wasn’t often her sole services were sought for. But the request had mentioned her alone. There had been no need for The Two to accompany her. And what a delight, once more, to be able to touch her mind. A delicacy without comparison. She was one of a kind.
The imprint the girl’s mind, as well as Farah Dowling’s, was forever engraved in the folds of her mind. If she wanted to, she could connect with them. Though the girl’s visions and memories were completely sealed, a true mystery to her and others, it wasn’t impossible to track her. Bloom’s mind was still young, her body fragile and pervious like a sieve. Her emotions were those of a puppy, her monkey mind lacking any proper control and discipline. That, or it was her Dragon, overtaking. Which in that case could only mean a disaster. But unfortunately, they hadn’t have time to train her. Bloom was, six years later, not better off than back then.
She felt it. The wave of despair Bloom had experienced a few moments ago. She tasted it in her mouth. The ash, the soot, the burned wood. Something had disturbed the Flame and Bloom had reacted on impulse, like a loose cannon. Manifesta could feel it inside. And who but the great Farah Dowling might have been able to move her? It was a mystery, one she would not be able to solve that night. And for all the respect she entertained for both fairies, Manifesta couldn’t change their fate. It wasn’t hers to decide how to steer their lives. She could only guide them, in the frame of her possibilities, be a light in the dark, a single note played on an orphan instrument.
She laid her hands on the cold stone of the balcony and let her head fall back. It was time to fulfill her promise.
***
The surface was cold. Where she sat, where she lay. Behind her, under her, next to her. It was cold and hard. Her eyes were blinded and there was no landmark. She didn’t recognize anything. And it didn’t matter. Somehow it was comforting to know nothing mattered. It was okay the way it was.
She sighed. At least she could feel the movement of her lungs, inflating with air, deflating right after. Her brains hadn’t left her completely. That was a good sign.
She wasn’t crazy. She knew she wasn’t crazy. Her brains were okay. It was just as if some doors were closed. Had been closed. Because now, a kind of warmth spread inside her body. It was soft and non-intrusive, and for a moment she remembered everything. It was like a motion picture of her entire life. Her time in Alfea as headmistress, the students, she being a teacher, she being a student herself, Jack, her parents, her fellow comrades, the house in Katalinea, Fluffy the dog, her guinea pigs. And all the stuff she had learned and stored in her brains, the persons she had met, the experiences she had made. Some more special than others. And one in particular. Farah. And Bloom. There was something special about the two, something stronger than the hate and desperation crawling past those walls, something true and binding, empowering, exhilarating. They could change the world.
The darkness took some shape. There was a chair and a table, a bed and – was that a poster on the wall? A feeble indirect light tube, concealed underneath the wall to her feet, was the only illumination of the place. Soft and present, like the feeling in her heart. It was as if a fog had lifted.
She frowned. What else could she remember? There were so many things she had experienced those last years. But no matter how hard she tried, her memories stopped on that notorious day when a man with sleek black hair had come in her office and arrested her. After that she only remembered a bald head, eyes like a snake’s, a deep purple. Beautiful and deadly.
She heard a voice in her head. “Aimee Leroy, hear my words, and listen carefully. You need to stay where you are. Everything has been taken care of. You are safe as long as you behave like always. Don’t ask questions, don’t move, don’t scream. Or they will know something happened. Stay put and believe. You will soon come out.”
She didn’t know what that meant. But she knew for sure that something was awkward about her situation. Something of importance had happened and she had to keep her feet still. Whatever was going on in the world, she was a piece of the puzzle and she needed to play her part.
Smiling, she traced the patterns of the veins in the stone wall behind her. She had no clue how she had landed here, but she was ready to find out and fight for her life.
***
She woke up in a bolt. The woman lying next to her moaned but went back to sleep. Luna checked on her features. Morr’Aenn lazily placed a hand on her belly, protectively, and Luna was happy she didn’t have to spend the night alone. But this thud, this pang in her chest, it was not only a dream. It felt more like a true realization and a factual event. Something undeniable had taken place and she, Luna, was to be its witness.
She carefully took the hand and placed it on the bed sheets under her body. Then she stood up and rearranged the blankets around the sleeping silhouette of her lover. She glanced a last time at the fascinating woman next to her, beautiful and sweet, yet dangerous and deadly.
Blinking a sigh away, Luna stepped to the high windows of her sleeping room. She looked outside into the moon cresting the skies. It was breathtaking. But not as disturbing as the stomp in her heart. She hadn’t decided yet if it was linked with the supper’s menu or with the surprise visit of Lady Manifesta. There were so many open questions, her mind whirled and threatened to go amok.
A strand of hair fell on her bare shoulder. She didn’t mind the nakedness. A habit she had taken upon ever since Morr’Aenn had entered her private quarters on that fateful day, four years ago. Ever since, the queen of light, as the witch called her lovingly, had dropped one inhibition after the other. Had freed herself. And being a nudist at times felt so extremely liberating, she had made it a habit to sleep naked under a ton of blankets. Meanwhile she couldn’t imagine a life without this little extravaganza. Or without Morr’Aenn, for what that mattered.
A hush of shadow hunting down her prey later, and she knew she wasn’t alone with her thoughts anymore.
“My queen… what’s the trouble?”A whisper under her left lobe.
Luna sighed and stretched her hand onto her shoulder. She felt an arm sling around her waist, holding her tight. Morr’Aenn’s warm body was as bare as hers, but the witch always seemed impervious to the cold. Luna held her closer and sighed again.
“I had a bad dream. Maybe it was a premonition. I... I don’t know. It felt like a warning.”
Morr’Aenn kissed her neck, holding her lovingly. “Maybe it’s a good sign?”
Luna closed her eyes and reopened them before turning around and facing the witch. “Can I tell you something?” Her eyes were riveted on the other woman’s who didn’t look away. Just and steady, all Luna needed.
She blinked once, worried her bottom lip, eliciting a protective gesture from the other woman as the latter held her closer.
“Don’t hold it back.”
The Solarian regent laid her hands on the other woman’s shoulders, looking at her straight into the eye. “What I am about to tell you will change the course of things. You might think differently about me after what I am going to reveal to you.”
Morr’Aenn’s eyelids squeezed. Luna could feel her heartbeat race, so close as they stood in front of each other. The witch took a deep inhale. Her eyes held a deep sadness that brought the Queen to waver. “Luna… You, of all the individuals I know, of both our peoples, you should be the coldest, hardest, and most mistrustful person I should be interacting with. But you know it is not true. I fought the attraction I felt and still feel for you. I searched for a remedy, but the more I tried, the deeper I dived in. I lost myself in your eyes, your voice, your heart, your gentleness and your power. All of your power. Although I should never have. And yet, here we are.” She averted Luna’s eyes before hovering over her face again. “Of all Solarians you should be aware of who I am and who I work for.” Morr’Aenn’s bottom lip started to tremble. “His power, is overwhelming. He holds us all in his hand. Already holding you like this,” she added under her breath, “would be enough to get me a death sentence. This is high treason, and I understand I should be dead. My mission was clear, four years ago. And I was so sure I could stop myself from admiring you. I guess it comes as risk with the job. But maybe I’m just…” She wanted to end her sentence but looking at Luna stopped her.
The latter caught her face in her hand, brushed her lips decently, and looked back at her. The witch was a bit taller than the queen but it had never bothered her. “You did what you had to do, and you couldn’t have made it that far unless your heart held a bit of loyalty to me too. On the other hand, I would be a fool to trust you haphazardly. Wouldn’t I?” She added, a little smile adorning her lips, noticing Morr’Aenn’s hesitation and the way she still wanted to protect her, after all this time. She interrupted the witch with a finger on her soft lips before she could answer.
“Yes, I would be a fool to trust in the enemy, after what life taught me, wouldn’t I? And yet. I never felt more myself than around you, more-empowered and enabled than with you. More seen and loved and cared about.” She felt Morr’Aenn’s arm wrap tighter. She licked her lips and drilled her stare in the grey eyes before her. “And because I can feel it, because I had the chance, once in my life, to feel love,” she noticed how the witch stiffened, so she squeezed her upper arms lightly, in a sign of trust and understanding, “I am not in the position to deny it to others. I think everybody should live the way they want, no matter who they love or why. I should be – hating you, holding you back, pushing you away. But as a matter of fact, you are the only one who proved that much trustworthy of – me?” Her brows arched slightly, and she knew she had to look pleading. Luna sighed. “The truth is, I have never felt such freedom with anyone else. My powers even grew, noticeably, next to you. You made me believe I could move the world.”
“Because you are capable, and strong, and you really believe in you, Luna. I didn’t do anything. It all came from you!”
“Oh, but you did, Morr’Aenn, you did. And don’t think for one second I am not aware of your sheer dominance. I know you could snap my neck in a blink. Your powers exceed mine by far.” She riveted her eyes on her lover’s who didn’t move one lash. “I am not stupid, Morr’Aenn. But being cautious doesn’t mean I have to mistrust you. On the contrary.” She let her hands caress the witch’s upper arms. “There is a say in the world, ‘Know your friends well, but know your enemies…”
“… better.’ Yes, I know.” Morr’Aenn smiled and somehow her shoulders relaxed a bit.
“I love you.”
The face of the witch froze. “Don’t… don’t say such things if you-”
“I do, Morr’Aenn, I do. I mean it. Our existences are short and we should never let others decide upon our destinies. I love you, Morr’Aenn of the witches’ realm, and I don’t say this lightly. It means, you have a home in my heart and a hand to hold for hope in times of despair. When you’re lost. When no one believes in you. Because no one is as strong as to carry the world’s fate on their shoulders alone. You can’t deny the fact that your life is a lonely one. As mine is. We found each other. I believe in fate. And that’s why I need you to give me your word that you will go back.”
Morr’Aenn startled, her whole body stiffening. “What?” Her eyes searched Luna’s. “Why should I?”
“Because if you believe we belong together, then you will have to keep your word. And betray me.”
“I…”
Morr’Aenn tried to hold on to something but it seemed she was swaying and losing grip of the ground under her feet. Luna steadied her. “Listen to me. Comes time, you will have to display your allegiance to one camp. And this won’t be me. No, listen.” She shushed the dark haired woman. “I am a regent, and in the end I want peace. But this means war. And he will get it. And for that I need you to do something that will prove him you are still on his team. Do you understand me?”
“I won’t kill you. I can’t and I won’t.” She wanted to free herself from the grip but Luna held her still.
“Don’t. Be. A fool. Morr’Aenn. Think like a woman. Like a mother.” Luna swallowed, holding her lover strongly now. “Don’t show weakness. Fight for both our peoples. And meet me after the battle.”
Morr’Aenn frowned. “I don’t understand. What should I do? What do you want me to do?”
Luna smiled. “I want you to be honest with your heart. As I have been with mine. It is not my decision to choose for you. You should find out what you really want. And show loyalty.”
“Are you saying… all these years, you mean, you think I was playing theater? Playing a role? That my feelings, my… that my attentions were faked?”
“No. Not a single one. But I need to think strategically as he does and even be cleverer than he is. And that’s what I demand from you too.” Luna squeezed Morr’Aenn’s arms with such intensity the other woman squeaked. “Sorry. What I mean is that you should choose for whom you want to give up your life. Because that’s what leaders do. Do you understand me?”
The witch stood in the moon crescent and looked down at the queen. After a while, she huffed and smiled. “I think people underestimate you. I think your subjects see you as a miserable, unfucked bitch. Powerless and stupid and embittered. Where in fact, you beam with such intensity, it borders on crazy. And no one knows.”
Luna looked up in those grey eyes. She knew Morr’Aenn wasn’t lying. Being a creature of the shadows she had probably caught the one or other rumor. “Don’t feel bad about the gossip. It is more useful than you think. Keeping the population in the dark has always been a good survival stratagem. But I know you’re far more honest than me. That’s why I love you so much. I want to protect you, Morr’Aenn. I want to defend the purity in your soul. I want to fight-for you. While protecting my people too. Do you understand?”
The witch sighed and brought her forehead to Luna’s. “I do, Queen of Solaria. I do. And now I know I could never come back to my people holding my head high if it weren’t for you by my side. I made my mind up, a long time ago.” She closed her eyes, still holding Luna tight. “I have never met a woman of your kind, with such strength and power, gentleness and patience. You’re always polite, though I know how little interested you can be in many affairs, people requesting your services and counsel always depart with a genuine smile. They trust you. Even your closest ones. I saw you interact with your daughter, the way she treated you, and I don’t approve everything, but I saw your love for her and that beyond anything, you had a plan. The way I see it, you have your differences, and she is very proud,” she smiled, “like her mom, but she is also as smart as you are.”
Luna heard the slight tremolo in Morr’Aenn’s voice. “She is. And that’s why you have to trust me, as I trust her.”
Morr’Aenn opened her eyes and straightened up. She exhaled audibly, sustaining her gaze, and to Luna both sounded and looked tenuous. Morr’Aenn held her strongly, eyes riveted on her sky blue stare. She licked her lips and in a monotone, stated the obvious. “Your daughter has information about a certain person who has come back from exile, and who will change the fate of the world as we have come to know it for the past six years. Am I right?” It wasn’t actually a question.
Luna smirked. “Intelligence is not your only strength, you know? I love your intuition too. And yes, you’re absolutely right. I have reason to believe the Dragon Flame is back, and that she is going to attempt to free Farah Dowling from her coma.”
Morr’Aenn stopped breathing. After a moment, she nodded slowly. “Alright. I should know no more. That’s enough already.”
Luna noticed how the witch trembled. “I am sure you will be a good witch. And handle this piece of information with care.”
“What do you expect from me now? Should I keep silent? Is that what you want?”
Luna judged her counterpart judiciously. “I want you to act like a general of sorts. I want you to act for yourself. You are free to choose whom you are taking your orders from. I only want, I expect, no, I demand, that you follow them by the book while Bloom Peters is saving the world. She will need help to get to Alfea. And even then, it is not certain that she succeeds. All I’m asking you to do is to spread this information at the moment he least expects it.”
Morr’Aenn looked strained. “I understand. You want me to give the Dragon Flame some leeway so she can penetrate the Alfean grounds securely. But not too much so that Furlong can start the offensive. But not too much either or he wins. Or-”, she looked at Luna, “this is just a rhetoric test to check on my loyalty.”
Luna clenched her jaws but managed to arch a brow. “I am only sharing this piece of information with you because I trust you. And because I trust you will do the right thing. Whenever you deem it right. And whomever you choose to work with. I am no one to keep you in jail, Morr’Aenn. I refuse to keep you in chains.”
The witch’s eyes squeezed. Eventually, Morr’Aenn parted her lips and spoke softly. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
Luna frowned slightly. “What exactly, darling?”
Morr’Aenn’s blowing nostrils and slightly trembling cheeks betrayed her feelings. Though Luna had been nicer those past years, she used words of endearment in a seldom fashion. Whenever she let one slip, she noticed how it affected the other woman, and she loved the way Morr’Aenn tried to conceal its real impact on her.
The witch’s lips parted and her hands grew softer. “You really believe that fairies and witches can live together?”
Luna felt a little pang of euphoria in her heart and it took her all her decades of self-control to not jump of ecstasy in this moment of absolute vulnerability. She swallowed and produced a little but very genuine smile. “I do, darling. With everything I possess. And I don’t mean the riches of the crown.” She took Morr’Aenn’s face in her hands. “And not only live together. If it were in my power I’d wish for them to be happy in all areas of life, able to found families and help each other, work together. It is about the life of all of us, not one species better than the other. I defend our rights to be together, more, than alone, sitting on the edge of the world, fighting against each other. And yes, I do.” She pressed herself against Morr’Aenn, tucking a strand of loose hair behind the witch’s ear. “I love you, more than the crown, more than my marriage, more than my life.”
“More than your daughter?”
Luna’s lips curled up. “She’s my true treasure. If you were a mother you would understand.”
An odd silence ensued. Luna noticed Morr’Aenn’s stiffness against her own body. She wasn’t privy about every single aspect of the witch’s life as the latter had never been very expansive about it anyway, but that was something new. She noted this reaction and relayed it to another compartment in her brains, for later revisiting.
Morr’Aenn’s eyes finally took on a warmer shade of grey. “I suppose. And you wanting to renounce the crown for me is an honor, but I will never ask you to put me first.” Luna wanted to contest but a stronger squeeze at her waist stole her breath. “Never think that way ever again. You are Luna from Solaria, regent queen of the continent. You are the light in the darkness. If not for you, we are all doomed. I believe in you, Luna, and I will never ask you to choose between me and your duty. Never. I would rather die protecting you and the ones you love than asking you to renounce your governing powers. I… You’re too important to me for me to be so selfish.”
Luna looked up at those grey eyes. She hadn’t say the words, Morr’Aenn hadn’t found the courage yet to let her know, but she had used others that held the exact same meaning. Luna hoped that one day, when peace was restored and they could live the way they were destined to, the witch would be able to express herself freely.
She started to shiver and felt the strong arms of the witch embrace her. “Let me carry you to bed. You shouldn’t catch a cold.” Before she could protest, she was held up in the air and transported with no effort to the big four posted bed draped in dark crimson. A moment later the blankets were tucked around her.
All the time she had watched the witch take care of her. As Morr’Aenn noticed, the latter smiled. “What? Is the queen still awake? Not sleepy?” The smile turned to a smirk, eyes burning like coals, amber encircling grey pupils.
Luna mirrored the witch. “Not one bit. What shall we do…?”
Morr’Aenn didn’t answer. At least, not with words.
As the dark haired woman with the magical eyes descended on her, blankets like a cape surrounding her, Luna knew there was nothing to fear as long as Morr’Aenn was by her side. She willingly gave herself to the ministrations of the other woman and the last thing she saw before her body shook under an incredible orgasm was the silver lining of the moon streaking the horizon.
***
Bloom wondered why the place was so dark. There was no light, no switch, no luminescence. There were no sounds either. She shrugged. She might as well stay the night and hope no one could trace her back in here. She settled for the night and made herself comfortable. She thought about her smartphone, but unfortunately, she had left it in the pocket of her coat, and the coat was probably only ashes by now. She had no way to contact the outer world, and no way to make some light. She hadn’t gone far from the entrance, so next morning, she would find her way back. No trouble.
Her stomach growled. Now that the danger had passed, she found out she was hungry. She had no food, no water and no supplies whatsoever. Grabbing inside her rucksack she found another pullover that she eagerly passed on. It was spring so the night was not winter cold, but still. The ground was pure concrete and there was no cardboard or leftover carton box where to lie down. And she was alone.
Bloom laid her backpack and sat on it. It wasn’t the first time she did so. Back in Gardenia in the days of her junior high, she had sat like that in wait for her father to pick her up. Sometimes he would take longer to come and there would be no bus shelter around. It was amazing how much a rucksack could take in. Sturdy and unbreakable. Just like her resolve. In the end, Mike always came, apologized for being late, and comforted her later on at home with pancakes and music. That was probably the reason why she loved baking pancakes. It reminded her that everything was alright, that everything was fine, and that everything would find back in their right tracks. She believed it had to be so, because she was strong and fierce and because she was the carrier of the Dragon Flame. Who had been suspiciously quiet all this time. She frowned in the dark.
Hey. Are you there?
No answer.
I said, hey! Answer.
Silence.
She sighed and crossed her arms over her belly. That was to be expected. It seemed her Dragon had had enough activity for one night and was exhausted. Well, she could use the break too.
“It’s a girl, I tell you.”
“What? No way, that’s a boy.”
“Do you have shit in your eyes? It’s a girl. Look at the hips!”
“And look at the clothes! It’s a… Wowowow ‘it’ is waking up…!”
Bloom blinked as a light beam from a flashlight swept over her face. Instinctively she protected her eyes with her hand, trying to find out what was happening. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” A manly voice replied, not sure if it was a joke. “And what are you doing in our den?”
Oh. Homeless people. “I’m sorry if I got into your place but I didn’t know where to go.” She was still shielding her eyes from the blending light. “Could you lower your torch, please? It is unpleasant.”
“Oh, unpleasant it is? Uncomfortable maybe?” One of the guys scoffed. “Wanna call room service and have the bedsheets change? Extra pillow maybe?”
“What are you talking about? Snig, dude, you’re creepy…! I say we take her to the boss.”
“Wait, what?” Bloom stood up but kept standing, one hand still protecting her eyes. “I take my backpack and I go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about your hiding place. I swear.”
“Hear that, Sniggy boy? She says she won’t tell anyone… Pfff… Who does she think she is? Miss Northgate?”
“Yeah, Fat Rat, let’s take her to the boss. They will know what to do with her.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea. I can defend myself. I have a black belt. In Krav Maga.” Bloom added quickly. She didn’t count on the fact these crooks knew about this self-defense system but it was worth trying. It was exotic enough to bluff about it.
“What? Come on, get your things and let’s move. You don’t want the specs on your track if you’re hiding here.”
Bloom cocked her head. The guy had been quite nice. She heard a shuffle of feet past her, and a screech in the wall, as if a secret door was being opened. “Where are you taking me?”
“To the boss. And believe me, it’s less dangerous than staying here. Move.”
She was shoved with the flashlight and before long, she was showed a staircase in the wall and started her descend in the unknown.
Her dragon had not moved all this time, not snorted, not reacted. This was strange. As if he granted her the right of passage, as if nothing was wrong and these two guys could be trusted. She stopped shaking at his chains and instead tried to relax. In the morning she would be gone for sure.
They entered a cellar full of light and sounds. Unlike the upper floor, dark and silent, there was a real party going on here. Veils of dark crimson were pushed aside, and Bloom penetrated a room that reminded her of the Irish pub in Breda. Stools of wood, a counter to the right, loads of green decorations, dimmed lights or candles. Many people smoked and drank out of glasses but mostly out of bottles. A sign blinked over the counter. It said “Mermaids’ Tavern”. It was not really original but sounded out of the ordinary nonetheless.
“Gobbo, one drink for the lady here!”
“No, really, I don’t…” But before she could refuse, the tall guy behind the counter got a glass from the sink, still dripping, thumped it on the counter and took a bottle. Something golden swam inside, something not trustworthy. And – was that a scorpion?
“What?”
Bloom felt several pairs of hands against her rucksack.
“Drink, it will warm you up. Come on! Bottoms up!”
One of the guys who had brought her down, Snig probably, stood to her right and got his liquor glass. On the other side, Fat Rat flanked her. He didn’t really look like a fat guy, as he was skinny and all. But she didn’t want to contest the hospitality of the local thugs. She took the glass and drowned the content in one shot.
“Baaaaahh!!” She squeezed her eyes in disgust as the liquid went down her throat. It was the worst mix she had ever drunk.
“Yeah! Now she can stay the night!”
She received a thud on her rucksack and a friendly pat on her shoulder. After that, she was left alone while Fat Rat and Snig disappeared in the smokes and somewhere else. She stayed at the counter, let her backpack sink to the ground and sighed. Without having asked for it, a glass full of beer came into view. A man bent over the counter winked at her, and tipped his beret. Then, he went away.
“I didn’t mean to have that drink. Your pal is nice but I don’t want it.”
The tender, a four days beard prickling stark from his jaws and with a face that hadn’t seen a proper razor in days, or weeks even, greasy hair combed back and tattoos over neck and forearms, bent down and put his knuckles on the counter. His tongue was moving something in his mouth and she didn’t really want to know what it exactly was.
“Listen well, young lady.” His voice was that of a man who smoked too much, and so smelled his breath too. “You’re new here, so I will close one eye on your mistake. But so you know, no one refuses a drink from the boss.”
Bloom gulped. “The boss? The boss is here? Where is he?” She moved around on her stool but couldn’t see anybody apart of the other patrons she had already scanned upon arrival.
“You don’t discuss the orders of the boss. And the boss comes when the boss feels the time has come. And now, drink.”
Bloom didn’t know what to answer, and so she took the glass in her hand and started downing the liquid, one big gulp at a time. She wasn’t half down as she noticed a sudden calm in the pub. Leaving the glass half empty on its coaster – a luxury and yet, very homely – she turned around to have a look at the central space. From nowhere, as it seemed, a giant of a man had entered the pub and stood in the middle of the place. He was seven feet tall, and could have been mistaken for a basketball player. Only that he was burly and bald, like a wrestler. A mean wrestler.
He looked around and smirked as he saw Bloom. The latter frowned, not sure how to understand the gesture. He walked on her and stared at her. He stopped and smiled, showing all of his teeth. Big, white, teeth. Like a wolf’s.
Curiously enough, nobody moved a single finger. His hands, on the contrary, were as large as the little pans they served enchiladas in, at the tex-mex restaurants she had had the privilege to sit in. Somehow, she felt these days were over.
He grinned at her, one lip more curled up as the other. Feral.
And then, out of the blue, he grabbed her throat and choked her.
The movement was so unpredictable Bloom didn’t have time to react. Before she knew what happened to her, she was being strangulated. And no one came to her rescue.
She grabbed his arm and tried to free herself, pushing with her feet against his torso, but in vain. It only managed to make him sneer even more.
Sparkling lights started to cross her vision. Then she lost the feeling in her hands, her arms getting weak by the second. Her brains lacked oxygen and she was losing consciousness.
“Pah. And you killed two Alfean headmistresses? Bullshit!”
She heard that. Or did her mind make that up? And how did he know…? It wasn’t as if she had tattooed her past on her forehead.
And where was her dragon when she needed him more than ever?
The sounds receded, the colors faded. A peep replaced music and silence. She was dying. She was dead. And she would never be able to save Farah.
Farah.
No.
She had to live. To save the mind fairy.
And no one was going to take that from her.
At once her body started to quake. It was a tremor like fever chills. But then it overtook her whole system and she felt heat inside of her, as if she were combusting from her intestines out. She was not completely unconscious, just knocked out and on the verge of losing consciousness. But she hadn’t blacked out yet.
Like snakes slithering along her arms, searing heat manifested in the palms of her hands. At once she snatched open her lids, and looked at the man before her. He held her effortlessly in the air, and she was tangling from his hand. But the look in his eyes was dazzled, not to say tainted with surprise and incomprehension. It wasn’t fear. Yet.
Bloom saw how his smirk changed into a grimace. Her whole body heated up and turned into molted lava. She observed how her skin burned his fingers and how horrified he looked as she changed colors like a chameleon. She boiled up and starched his skin, and before she knew it, he had opened his hand and let her fall.
Only that she floated in the air, while he held his burned hand at his wrist.
“How dare you lay hand on me, you filthy piece of shit? Don’t you know who I am?”
Bloom, who was somewhere at the back of the whole thing, like she always was when her Dragon overtook, didn’t recognize her voice. This one was dark and sneering, like the growl of an ancient creature that should never have been awakened. It was terrible and scary. Even she was scared and wondered how long she would stay in this state. Her whole body steamed and glowed like lava. Orange and yellow, right underneath her skin, as if she had been pumped with foreign fluids, sustaining her life but utterly scary. Even her vision had taken the color of fluid honey.
“Enough!”
The guy was on his knees, screaming in pain and holding his hand.
“Tend to his wounds and stop bothering our guest.”
Bloom slowly rotated her head to where the noise originated. Back in her skull, she didn’t really grasp who or what it was. She only wished to get back on her feet and stop this insanity. As it seemed, her dragon agreed to the procedure and sneezed a little puffy cloud of smoke. Meanwhile she had learned to interpret this as a sign of his retreat.
Slowly the sounds and lights came back, her sight changed back to normal, and the temperature in her body lowered. She was out of danger, but most importantly if also strangely, the others were. She made a mental note to come back on this at a later moment, as her dragon had always been notorious about damaging his surroundings wherever he could.
Kneeling on the floor in front of her enemy who was being dragged to a backroom for his wounds to be tended, Bloom held her ribs, touched her thighs and assessed her body. Everything was there where it should be, at the right temperature and with the right consistency. At last, she straightened up and turned her head to face the person who had spoken. A slender frame, a bit smaller than herself, curly hair and dark. The person walked in and stopped right next to Bloom.
“Well, well, well. If that ain’t the most dangerous girl in town… Bloom Peters.”
The redhead swallowed and searched her brains for a suitable answer as her eyes discovered her counterpart in full. She started to smile, mirroring the other woman whose red lipstick was second to none. “I should have known.”
“Known what…?” The other woman sashayed around her and left a gloved hand by her shoulder before making herself comfortable on the stool next to her.
Bloom traced her provoking swagger until it stopped. Then she looked at her right into the eyes. “You. That you would survive.”
“Of course, flower girl. That’s what cockroaches do.”
Bloom felt a twinge in her heart. “I never saw you like that.”
“And yet, look at me, surrounded by thugs, in a cellar, entertaining low lives,” she added under her breath.
“Why?” Bloom put a hand on her thigh. “Why?” She repeated, this time emphasizing her gesture with a little squeeze of her fingers.
The eyes of the other woman lacked some light for a moment. “Not here. Take your bag and follow me.”
Bloom felt the little pressure on her hand before it was released. She did as she was told and went after the woman who disappeared through a door, then took a staircase that led to an upper level, walked a dimly lit corridor in the perfumed cloud of the woman before her, and finally entered a room elegantly decorated and exquisitely ventilated, where she left her backpack.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Bloom sat down on the couch, and thought to stay there for the rest of the night. She had no idea where she was, as the room had no windows. But she had no time to think, a glass was placed in her hand and a woman of delicate extravaganza took place in the seat next to her.
“Chin-chin, Bloom.” The glass was downed in one gulp.
“Alright.” Bloom followed, curious if the sensation would be the same as the one at the bar. But to her surprise, this alcohol was really fine.
“This is met wine. I prefer the liquorish sort.”
“Of course, the sweeter palate.”
The other woman only smiled. “So, tell me, Bloom, how do I get the privilege to welcome you in my modest underground society?”
Bloom smiled, and laughed out. Whether it was because of the fire at the hotel, the race, the dream, the attended homicide or the person she was talking to, her nerves experienced a little breakdown. Better than crying anyway.
“Well, Bee, where should I start?” She smiled, turning her head to the air fairy, who sighed and propped her head in her hand, elbow on the backrest of the couch, while her other hand started pocking playfully at Bloom’s sweatshirt’s sleeve.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning, as you stepped into the ring and disappeared for – how long did you go? Six years? Longer, right. Oh, girl, you missed all the fun.” She tilted her head, smiling.
Bloom felt a pang in her heart. Beatrix’ shine seemed tarnished as if she had seen too much, too quickly, and aged prematurely. Her hair still laid around her shoulders, but the fire in her eyes was dulled. “Bee,” Bloom took her hand in hers and kissed her knuckles. It was the most sensitive thing to do, and the response was immediate.
The dark haired girl dropped her smile and her lower lip started to tremble. Without thinking, Bloom scooted closer and snaked an arm around the slender shoulders of the former schoolmate. She murmured something like “I’m here, Bea, I’m here, I’m here…”, but she could not stop the flood of tears that spilled from her eyes.
She kept her tight, for God knows how long, and it didn’t matter. It was a miracle enough to have found another of her lost friends, and something told her it was of mutual benefit. She rocked and held Beatrix tightly until her sobs receded and she found her composure back.
“I’m sorry, Bloom. It’s just… it’s been so long. You have no idea.” She dried her tears and offered the redhead a little smile. “Now, tell me everything. And don’t spare a single detail.”
Bloom held a hand high and caressed her cheek. “I promise. Now, bring the bottle, pour one more, and listen carefully. It goes like this…”