“Melody, we have a problem,” Aaron’s voice drifted toward me. I looked up from the fire-pit where I sat cooking our breakfast. Another problem? As if we didn’t have enough already.
“What is it?” I raised my eyebrows. I had sent him down to catch some more fish from the river. Unless the entire population of salmon had died, I didn’t want to hear his news. He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out a scroll. Our faces stood out in black ink, imprinted on the front page.
I snatched the paper from his hand. “What does it say?”
Aaron was one of very few people in Brita who could read. Only a handful of people were born with that type of power. The Order had used his gift to its advantage and communicated with other organized protective groups through Aaron’s cryptic scribbles. Not that we had ever seen any fairies or other Mages. The Order members were the only magic folk we had ever known.
“The authorities are looking for us. They think we had something to do with the fire.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “We have to leave before they find us.” I didn’t respond. I could feel his stare boring a hole in my back. I breathed in the sweet scent of flowers. Spring would arrive soon.
“Where would we even go?” I asked, my voice soft. Brita was the only place I had ever lived. Born into the disgusting streets, full of filth and death and danger, I had thrived here. My blood ran in the gutters and my magic coursed through marbled veins in the city walls. If I left, I would lose a piece of myself. He shrugged and sat down next to me. He patted my hand, his blue-veined skin pale against my bronzed complexion.
“It’s okay,” he said.
“It’s not okay,” I shot back. My magic sizzled on the ridges of my fingertips. My skin glowed gold. Anger raged through my body and I breathed out as I tried to stabilize my core.
“It will be,” he continued. Fear flickered across his eyes, but he held his ground. “The ruby will tell us what to do.”
“Why do you bother believing that fairytale?” I asked and rolled my eyes. I shoved my hand into my pocket. The rough edges of the ruby blistered across my fingertips. I held the crystal up to the light, watched the sun glance off the surface. “It’s just a stupid rock. There’s nothing important about it.” I glanced at the stone and my heart skipped.
“What?” Aaron demanded. He moved toward me.
“It’s just, I think I saw something.” I brought the gem close to my face, challenged the cracked edges to speak to me, to show me something. Nothing. I sighed. Now I was seeing things. Great.
Aaron’s hand closed over my fist and I met his gaze. “Your magic. Maybe it brought out a message.”
“I doubt it,” I said.
“It’s worth a try. That is unless you’re afraid of being wrong,” he said and crossed his arms in front of his hollow chest.
My power still sat, unused, on my skin’s surface. Blue sparks speckled the glass before seeping inside the gem through a fissure at the edge. Must have happened when I’d tried to break it open. My magic burrowed into the gem. It trickled like grains of sand into openings and pockets. I watched as it formed itself and settled. A mountain peak appeared in the ruby, sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Four words engraved beneath the image blinked and shuddered. There were no mountains in Brita, just rolling hills and grassy plains. And ash, I added. I could still taste the acrid powder that had been blown by the wind and settled on our bodies the night before.
“Look,” I said and held it out to Aaron.
He stared, his eyes wide. It took him a few moments to study the symbols, to read their meaning. As I watched him, heat crept up my neck. We couldn’t survive without each other and it made my head ache.
“It’s the Cora Ley Mountain Range,” he said.
“Do you think you can take us there?” I asked. I choked on the words, my breath coming out in a cough.
He nodded. “You sure you want to?” he asked. I wished I could bottle up Brita’s wind and take it with me. Not that I was sentimental or anything.
“We should go,” I said finally. Aaron nodded and looked back down the valley, back at where we’d last seen Headquarters and the river and the streets of Brita. I felt dizzy as he slid his small hand onto my wrist. His skin felt cool, like ice, and I shivered.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. The corner of his mouth twitched into a watery smile.
I nodded tightly as I ignored the knot that twisted my intestines, as I tried not to dig my feet too hard into the ground. My magic slipped through my shoes like roots. It touched the stones and the dirt and the waterways, traveling toward Earth’s core. I let my tendrils embrace all that was Brita. All that was me.
“Good-bye,” he whispered to the wind. Pressure crushed down upon us and my vision tunneled. As my patchwork home disappeared into darkness, I remembered to let go.
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