Of Light And Fire (Burned By Magic Series Book 1) Read online

  After I had filled Soren in on what happened to me on the way here, he began introducing me to the Sicarri members that filed into the room one by one. The only face I could recognize is Vara’s older brother, the man who has been raising my son for the past twenty years, Marcel. A dark-skinned man named Ted loomed in the doorway. He was the first to introduce himself, after Marcel. The look on his face is pure murder whenever the subject of demons comes up. Then came Peter, a much quieter man. His pale skin reminds me of Vara’s, but his hair is much different. Light and yellow, like the color of corn. His eyes are the most sincere of the bunch, and I could tell how truly sorry he was for my situation.

  There’s also a woman who joined us. Soren told me her name is Lu. She has dark, almost black hair with tan skin. Her eyes slant upwards in the most unique way. She’s beautiful and terrifying all at once. She’s now standing to the side, leaning against the wall. She hasn’t said much since the first introduction, but she holds the fiercest gaze at everyone in the room. She’s not someone I would want to mess with, and there isn’t a thought in my mind that questions how deadly she is. It doesn’t surprise me that there are more women fighting with the Sicarri now. When it was first created, they had called it a brotherhood because mostly men had stepped up to join in the fight. As times changed, more and more people started to join, and I believe that’s exactly why we were so powerful before all this happened.

  Soren and Marcel now hover over maps spread out on a large table in the left corner. Their voices become distant as I close my eyes. There is argument over something, but I am too tired to listen. Though I may have been unconscious for all those years, I feel like I haven’t slept once in the time I’ve been gone. I suppose that’s all that’s left of me right now: weariness… exhaustion… depression. I wonder for a moment when I became so worthless. Then I remember that the love of my life is gone, and my only son is a stranger. Everything I lived for was snatched from me the moment the demons took me.

  So, what is keeping me going, pushing me forward? The worried look on Soren’s face. When he glances at me from the other side of the room, he thinks he’s being sneaky. Maybe he thinks that I won’t notice the check-ups every few minutes… but I do. No matter how badly all of this affects me, my senses are back to normal and they’re just as acute as they were when I left. I guess that’s one thing to be thankful for. I peek my eyes open to check and see if I’m right, and sure enough, I catch the last of Soren’s worry-stricken gaze.

  I notice movement from the corner of the room. I sit up straighter as a man walks through the doorway, carrying armfuls of food containers. The smell of garlic and tomatoes fills the room and my stomach growls. This guy is already my favorite Sicarri member, and I’ve never even met him.

  “Karina sends food,” he announces as he starts to unwrap everything and everyone huddles around, piling food on top of disposable plates.

  “Thanks, Xo,” Soren says, letting the others serve themselves first, before grabbing two plates.

  Who is Karina? I wonder.

  I don’t have a chance to ask because Soren brings me a plate piled high with spaghetti and garlic bread, and I dig in before he even sits down next to me. It’s delicious. When I’ve downed enough that I don’t feel as ravenous, I decide it’s time to start asking questions. I look to Soren, who swirls the last bite of his pasta around his plastic fork and brings it to his mouth.

  “Soren, what happened?” I ask my son. His fork pauses in mid air. He doesn’t take that last bite. Instead, he drops his fork to his plate and then places it all on the floor at his feet. Then, he spins to face me, his face serious and, if I’m not mistaken, a little nervous.

  “Where do you want to start?” he asks. I notice that everyone else in the room has stopped their meals and conversations, and are now watching us closely.

  “Let’s start with your mom. What was the last thing you heard about her?” I ask him. I want to get this part out of the way. Not because I don’t care, I do. I probably care more about this than anything else I’ve learned today. I want to know this because if there’s any chance that I may be able to see my wife again, it’ll change everything for me.

  “I told you, everything we have runs dry. She may as well be a ghost. But still, I haven’t stopped looking, Dad… I won’t stop looking.” He says this like a vow, and I believe him. I nod and stay quiet for a moment, contemplating my next question.

  “Elijah…” Marcel calls out from my left. I whip my head to the side so that I can look at him while he talks.

  “Have you given yourself a moment to really think about all this? That maybe Vara… well… that she may not be how you remember if you do find her?” he asks. I catch a flash of embarrassment cross his face. What does he mean? I’m about to ask him when Soren interrupts.

  “She might be old, Dad. That is, if she is even alive.” Soren sighs through his words; it’s clearly not something he likes to talk about. I don’t blame him…

  “Okay, fine, she might be old. Does anyone know why I’m not?” I ask, looking at all the faces around the room.

  No one speaks.

  My eyes finally land on Soren, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he has no idea what happened to me.

  “So no one knows where Vara is. No one knows what the hell happened to me. Can anyone tell me why I heard demons on the radio talking like they had taken over the world?”

  “Not long after Vara disappeared, the demons began to gain hold of more and more,” Marcel begins.

  Soren clears his throat, flicking his gaze from Marcel to me, taking over the conversation. “Abe, the one you heard about… he knows about magic. Things we never knew were even possible. He gathered a following, started spewing about a commonwealth between the demons. He claimed he could assume the form of the unburnt through his magic, and that he could teach others how to as well.”

  “As you can imagine, demons began to flock to him.” This time, it’s Ted who talks as I nod my head, waiting for him to finish before I speak. “Not much time passed before they established a hierarchy. Abe obviously proclaimed himself as king and let the others decide for themselves if they wanted to join him. It also became clear that not all demons agreed with Abe. Some of them wanted things to stay the way they were. We call them shadow-walkers. The burned ones,” he finishes.

  “What does that mean for us? Or for all the other unburnt for that matter?” I direct my question to everyone in the room once more, finally relieved to be getting answers.

  “We carry these.” Soren pulls a shiny brown stone from his jacket pocket and thrusts it in my face.

  “What is that for?” I ask, holding out my hand for him to drop it.

  “It’s tiger’s eye. The stone keeps us from the demons being able to jump into our bodies as long as we keep it near us. It also makes it more difficult for demons to practice magic in the presence of it. It slows them down. Usually long enough for us to kill them without them jumping into another body,” Marcel tells me.

  “What about that demon at the gas station? Why didn’t he jump into my body before I set him on fire? I wasn’t wearing this,” I ask the room.

  “That’s something we need to figure out,” Soren says.

  I hold the stone for a moment longer, feeling the weight of it, rolling it in my palm before handing it back to Soren.

  “That one is yours. I have mine. We all carry them,” Soren says, tapping the same jacket pocket that he pulled my stone from. I pull my fisted hand back and drop my stone in my pocket, mimicking Soren’s movements. It takes me a moment to retrace my thoughts.

  “So this king Abe, what happened with him?” I ask.

  “We had to make a deal with him,” Lu says. I’m surprised to hear from her more than anyone else in the room. She hasn’t uttered a word until now.

  “A deal?” I ask, annoyed that I let my frustration seep into my tone. I feel like I’m in the dark, completely left behind, the outsider. I keep asking questions, but I can�
��t help but notice that I’m met with half answers, little bits and pieces when I want the whole puzzle to fit together.

  “A few years ago, the Sicarri started getting infiltrated by demons. When they learned the magic that could shift them, they would jump into Sicarri members and attack us from the inside. They snuck their way into our core, and almost took all of us down. We had no defenses. No way out, except to make a deal with Abe. The shadow-walkers took to attacking both forces, Sicarri and demon. We told Abe that we could offer protection against the shadow-walkers if they would stay in their territories. Any unburnt that falls into their territory becomes theirs. As long as we stay away, we’re safe. That way we were only up against one enemy, instead of two.” Marcel finishes his words and crosses the room, returning to the table where the maps and plans are all laid out.

  He doesn’t wait for me to respond, and I don’t blame him. What is there to say? I wasn’t there when they were faced with such an incredibly hard decision. Should I be angry that this is how things turned out? Should I feel sad? In all honesty, I’m not sure how I feel knowing that the Sicarri are basically contractors for the one thing we were trained to kill. But, like I said, I wasn’t there. Maybe if I had been, I could understand better.

  When I look to Soren, I see that worry set deep in his brow. Was he expecting a different reaction from me? An outburst?

  “I’m not angry, Soren. Well, not angry with you… or any other Sicarri, for that matter. I’m only angry that I wasn’t here to help when you all clearly needed it most,” I tell him. And I mean it. Soren nods his head twice, closing his eyes briefly on the last one.

  “What are you doing over there, Marcel?” I ask him as I sit forward, placing my elbows just above my knees and resting my chin in my hands.

  “Planning our route out of here. We have to cross through demon territory,” he answers, not bothering to look up to meet my eyes.

  “Need help?” I ask, trying to mask the exhaustion in my voice. I’m tired… like I’ve overloaded my brain with all of this new information and it’s short-circuited.

  “Dad, just sit back for a bit. We’ll let you know if we need anything,” Soren says before he stands and crosses the room. Some of the others move to the table as well, but Lu keeps posted at the door, and so does Willow. Ted makes his way through the room, gathering the trash from dinner. I lean back against the cushions and close my eyes, letting time pass. Feeling time pass. I’m almost grateful for it, the slow pass of minutes across space. I wish I could have felt every minute of these past twenty years. After a while, Marcel interrupts my deep thoughts.

  “You probably shouldn’t fall asleep again, we’ll be leaving soon.” Marcel’s voice lifts me from the fog and I feel the cushions beside me shift. “It’s damn good to see you again, Elijah. I don’t think I’ve told you that yet.”

  “It’s good to be back… I think.” I sit up stiffly and rub my thumb and forefingers over my tired eyes. The skin on my lids feels tender and swollen, and I’m sure I look like shit. I let out a long sigh. Through my exhaustion, I’m eager to leave this room, this house, where everything reminds me of Vara.

  “Elijah, I know it’s hard for you to understand the choices we had to make to survive. Hell, I’m sure pretty much everything is hard for you to understand right now. I just want you to know that everything I did was to protect your boy. I did it for you and for my sister. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him.” I glance at Marcel’s profile. His eyes are boring into the tan carpet at our feet, and I can see the deep-set wrinkles that surround his eyes, the grey that has devoured most of the dark burgundy hair throughout his beard. His aging makes these past twenty years more real. Time was passing for everyone, excluding me.

  “You don’t have to explain. Vara trusted you with him, and you haven’t let her down. Which means you haven’t let me down.” I mean it. It’s not lost on me that I could be sitting here, having lost my son along with my wife. Though I’m not sure where my relationship stands with Soren, he’s what’s keeping me here.

  Marcel nods his head and moves to join Soren, who’s holding a piece of paper in his hands. The top of the page is blocked from my view, but I can see the markings of a map from the underside of the paper, thanks to the table lamp illuminating it from behind. It’s unlike me to sit back while the others plan anything, but my head isn’t in the game right now. Not to mention Soren denied the assistance I’ve already offered. Something tells me I wouldn’t be much help anyway, so for now I sink back into the sofa and work on clearing my head.

  I overhear Marcel speaking to Ted. He is supposed to go downstairs and pull the vehicles around and dispose of the car I stole to get here. We’re making moves. I can tell he’s not too happy about this job, but I’ve also noticed that no one argues with Marcel. He commands respect, and they give it, in true Sicarri form. Ted makes his way past Willow, who’s begun pacing the room… obviously feeling antsy as the energy in the room shifts in preparation to leave.

  “Dad.” I hear Soren’s voice close to my right and I snap my head around to find his face. He crouches down so his eyes are level with mine.

  “We’re heading to the warehouse now. Xo will give you your weapons.” Soren tilts his head in the direction of the quiet, arcane man in the corner. I look to Xo, and really take in his appearance for the first time. He’s extremely tan with dark hair; his long, straight nose dips down, shadowing his lips.

  “The warehouse?” The diner I escaped from springs to mind. Soren seems to notice my reluctance and confusion.

  “Not that sorry excuse for a diner… Uncle Cormac’s old research lab,” he says. Research lab? The old run-down metal shack he was squatting in?

  “That’s where they took me from, Soren. I went there that day to find Cormac.” Soren shakes his head up and down, seeming to know where I’m going with this. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back there. I see a small flash of apprehension cross Soren’s face before he stands.

  “We have a lot more to talk about Dad,” Soren says.

  “Don’t worry, Elijah, you’ll see it’s a lot different than it was when you left,” Marcel voices from the doorway.

  I guess we’re heading out now. Peter reaches down to grab his radio when it sounds off, and I notice the tattoos covering his arms for the first time. Ted’s voice booms through the radio, explaining that the cars are ready. He confirms, and not a second later he heads out of the room. Soren gives my arm a squeeze and my eyes follow him as he makes his way out the door and down the stairs. I feel something cold tap my arm, and I look back to my right. Xo is standing there, pistol in his outstretched hand. I reach out and curl my fingers around the metal; it feels good to have a weapon back in my hand. Xo’s arm disappears behind his back and something shiny catches my eye. He holds out a dagger, the tip between his thumb and forefinger, leaving the handle open for me to grab with my free hand. The blade is clean, and looks extremely sharp. I turn it over in my hands and my eye catches the smooth and shiny stone imbedded into the handle. Tiger’s eye. I don’t understand it.

  “Vara left it for you.” I hear the fabric from Xo’s clothes whoosh as he walks past me and down the stairs. Vara left it for me? That doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t leave anything for me if she believed I was dead.

  “Vara… what did you know?” I speak into the empty room. The sound of my voice echoes around me, and suddenly I feel lonely. Like I’m drifting in the sea with no sight of land. Willow whines, forcing me to look away from the dagger. I realize that all the Sicarri men are probably waiting for me, so I shove the gun into my belt and slip the blade on the inside of my jacket pocket. Willow follows me as I head down the stairs and stride toward the front door. When I reach the threshold, I look over my shoulder, allowing myself to feel everything I’ve lost for one quick moment. After, I turn my head to the road and decide to keep moving forward.

  Somewhere between the time that I arrived at the house and the time I spent upstairs, nig
ht fell. The streets are deserted as we drive toward the warehouse, except for a few parked cars. The black SUV we all climbed into smells of gasoline and cedar and I briefly remember the time when Cormac and I trapped a demon in the back of my old truck. We couldn’t get the smell of scorched blood out of the upholstery for weeks.

  Marcel insisted on driving, and Soren jumped into the front seat, leaving Peter and me in the back seat, separated by Willow, whose tail has been swiftly brushing against my shoulder as she perches her two front legs on the armrest in the front of the car. When I first climbed in, I took stock of all the weapons that were neatly tucked away in between the seats.

  Ted, Xo, and Lu are following closely behind, and every bump we cross makes their headlights flash in the rearview mirror. It’s been silent for most of the way, and I have a feeling no one, including myself, really knows what to say. Twenty years is a long time… where to begin?

  When I clear my throat, Soren looks through the gap between the seats and his eyes meet mine. I wipe my palms on my pants.

  “Willow… where did you get her?” This has been on my mind since I was on all fours, face-to-face with her earlier.

  Soren smiles and scratches Willow’s ear as she leans into him softly, their bond evident on both their faces. “I found her about a year ago back at the house. I check in on the place once every couple of months… I can’t do much in the way of fixing it up, but I like to make sure it hasn’t burned down…” Soren pauses, looking down at his hands, and Willow drags her tongue across his cheek. He pets her once more and looks back at me. “Anyway, I noticed the shed in the back had been busted open and my first thought was demons. I charged in there, gun in hand, and saw these big puppy dog eyes staring up at me. She was thin; I could see her bones poking out from her sides. I fed her some scraps from the lunch that I had in my car and she wouldn’t leave my side. She hasn’t ever since.”