Blood soaked his shirt, the thin cotton sticking to his skin like an uncomfortable embrace. It ran down his arms, stained his hands, dripped slowly to the cobblestones beneath. Its acrid, sharp smell invaded his nose as a twitching, broken neon sign behind him sputtered and, with a weak flicker, gave out at last.

“Elise?”

There was a darkness in her eyes that had never been there before. There was a darkness covering her that had never been there before, had never been anywhere, wasn’t truly there now. It couldn’t be there now. In his mind he saw her, twisting her dark brown hair, bent over a book, brow creased in concentration, iPod eternally fixed to one ear. Every move unconscious, fluid, bright with life. This darkness, this leaden opacity that lay before him could not be her.

Somehow, he was kneeling. He reached out, wanting to wake her up from whatever play she was acting, shake her from her joke, yet his hand didn’t move. It hovered, trembling, before him, halfway out as though in benediction. And before it, the darkness was slipping away, carrying that bright spark of life with it, taking it far away, where he couldn’t reach it anymore. He willed his feet to move, his hand to reach, but somehow there were too heavy. There weren’t listening to him.

I can’t move.

And the darkness was gone.

———————

Light seared into Brenton’s eyes through broken blinds. He stifled a groan into the pillow and turned his face around.

That dream again.

Memory flickered through him for a moment, fragments of darkness and loss dancing around his thoughts. He pushed them away and rolled out of the bunk and onto the floor of the RV. It rumbled gently against his feet as he looked up and down the small living area, taking stock of what he could see. Chasing away the dream with a dose of reality that was almost as bad.

The RV was second-hand, bought cheap from a guy who didn’t want it cluttering up his yard anymore. After getting it, he and Mashina had cleaned it out and done what they could to make it more habitable, but duct tape and hope still kept parts of the wall intact. The blinds, much to his despair, were still half-broken and full of holes. While the stove did work, try as they might they couldn’t get the water pump to work enough to get the faucet to run, so they kept buckets of water sitting underneath the sink instead. The light in the bathroom wouldn’t stay on for more than three minutes. They were missing a couple doors for the cupboards. The ceiling leaked in a good rain.

But for now, it was their home. His eyes settled on the reason for it all, the reason he had left his school in England behind and returned to America and was now driving around the countryside with no real purpose.

His sister, Elise.

Curled up against the back of the couch, gray eyes staring before her without seeing, she sat facing away from him. Her brunette hair hung down her back, her thin shoulders – when had she lost so much weight? – making little dents in the loose t-shirt she was wearing. From where he was, he could see her mouth moving.

Almost fearing what he would hear, he walked down the length of the aisle and crouched down by her. She didn’t acknowledge him. Her fingers were clasped on her upper arms, her fingernails digging into her skin.

“Don’t jump, don’t look, don’t jump, don’t look, don’t jump, don’t look…”

Brenton put out a hand and gently pried her fingers from her arm. The nails locked into his calloused hand, but he merely let her hold on as he felt and pulled out a dirty shirt from yesterday and carefully transferred her grip to it instead. Once that was finished, he paused, looking up into that face that didn’t see anything, then picked himself up and went up to the front of the vehicle.

Mashina Yurena sat behind the wheel, sunglasses obscuring eyes to the world. Her black hair was pulled up in a bun, one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on one of her pistols. Brenton leaned against the seat. “So where are we now?”

“About four hours from anywhere,” came the dry reply. A yawn punctuated her words. “Go get ready so I can get some shut-eye.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, turning to gather his things.

“I’m here.”

He froze, Elise standing before him, hands still clenched around the dirty shirt, swaying slightly with the motion of the vehicle. Her gaze, before so vague, now pierced through him, seeming to look at something more than him. There was desperation in her eyes, a want, a need that dug into him like a screw into wood.

“Yes…good morning, Elise.”

“I’m here.”

“I see you,” he replied, edging around her. “Do you need something?”

Her hands clenched again. “I’m here.”

He paused, finally meeting her gaze. It felt like a physical blow. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know.”

The shoulder under his hand relaxed, her gaze returned to normal. Her gaze dropped to her hands, and she looked at it quizzically.

She was alright again.

Elise had been normal. Had been a sane, if somewhat reclusive, woman of 19 years. Sure, she studied at a mage academy in Britain. Sure, she could do things no normal human could by merely writing on a paper or speaking a few words. Sure, the power was terrifying. But she had been normal; a normal girl with normal thoughts and normal feelings.

That was six month ago.

Six months already. Life before now seemed so distant to him. He had been a student at a British technical college, studying to be a mechanic and hoping to start his own car shop. He would get up every morning and make his coffee, get to his part-time job, flirt with the co-workers, get to class, go home. Once a week he would drop by the Academy and make sure Elise was eating properly (she had a tendency to get so lost in study that she would lose track of days – much less when she last ate). Every Saturday he would catch up on homework during the day and spend the evening going to the bars. Sunday he would spend regretting Saturday night and doing anything that hadn’t been done.

Then Elise had died, and everything had gone downhill.

Brenton leaned against the small sink in the bathroom and scrutinized his reflection. Stubble, as dark as his long curly hair, peppered his broad chin. Above strong cheekbones sat two dark eyes, behind which moved emotions he didn’t care to look too close to identify. He had enough of searching. He did too much of it every day.

As Mashina had told him, if a mage died in a certain way, then they could be brought back – but it only happened once in their life, and then only if they could manage to open the 13th Gate. Gates were like different spices of magic; each one guarded a different kind of power. For example, the first Gate was the Elemental Gate, and once a mage completed the ritual and opened it, they could cast spells controlling the elements. The 13th Gate…was the Death Gate. The only way to open it was to die. So when they had been jumped on the street on their way out from dinner, and Elise had died in front of him…

It was his turn to clench his hands, and he looked down at them. They were stronger now. He was stronger now. He would not hesitate again.

At any rate, Mashina had appeared like a silent goddess of luck, healing the wound Elise had sustained and allowing for his sister’s return upon her opening of the 13th Gate. And Mashina had been the one to break Elise out of the Academy, where she had been given a death sentence for being psychologically insane.
Someone had cast something on her, forced Elise’s mind to get all jumbled up inside. She mixed everything up; words would mean something else, and she spoke in circles. At times she would get emotional, or lose herself altogether, like before, looking at something only she could see. But at least Elise showed some progress. Like a moment ago, when he could understand her.

There was hope.

And no soap.

He stared at the countertop, where the familiar rectangle should have been.

Four hours from anywhere.

His head hit the sink with a slight thud and a weak groan.

—————————–

The diner was small, a mere add-on to a gas station in the middle of nowhere, Montana. Cheerful yellows and pastel pinks adorned the walls, and the long bar at front looked worn with time. The afternoon sun reflected from the booths near the window, basking half the seating area with pale morning light. In one corner of the kitchen, the two waitresses stood gossiping – probably about their one and only customer.
He was at the bar, perched atop one of the stools as though he would get up at any moment. In one hand he held a notepad, writing a few things down as he waited for his order to be finished. He wore a long dark coat open at the front, exposing neat but plain clothes – a t-shirt and khakis. A pair of sunglasses hung folded from his collar, and his short brown hair seemed to accentuate his business-like manner. With a snap, he closed the notepad and got up.

“Do you think he’s a cop?” One waitress asked as the man entered the bathroom.

“He kinda looks like one, don’t he?” The other said.

The first one sighed and leaned against the wall. “I’d love to date a cop,” she said wistfully.

The other looked down at her, incredulous. “Whatever for? They’d always be late, leave in the middle of a date, and their first marriage is to their job, anyway.”

“But isn’t it romantic?” the other said, a smile on her face as she stared into some vague future. “A champion of the right, a man of justice and honor. He’d know how to treat a gal right.”

“Hey, did you even listen to me…?”

“Oh, you’re just bitter over what’s-his-name, Bill.”

“Hey, hey, now, don’t drag unpleasant memories into this…”

“May I ask you ladies a few questions?”

The two froze a moment, staring sideways at the man. Then the first girl straightened up and smiled. “Sure thing!”

The man dug into a pocket on the inside of his coat and pulled out a couple of photographs. “Have you seen either of these people?”

They leaned over a bit to look at what appeared to be school ID pictures, one of a guy and the other of a girl. They looked a lot alike. “Siblings?” the second one asked.

“Yes. They came from England a while ago, but since they came from the US originally, I wouldn’t expect them to have heavy accents.”

“Aah!” The first one pointed to the photographs. “That’s right! They were here just yesterday! There was a third one with them; her accent was pretty heavy. British. They came in an RV, asked to fill up some buckets with water, and left again.”

“What did the third one look like?”

“Woman, kinda tall and thin, very light blue eyes, I remember. She didn’t come in; she just stood by the RV and waited for him to come back. I heard them talking.” She paused, then looked up at the man. “They were saying something about the girl, but I don’t remember what.”

“What time did they come by?”

“I was on dinner shift, so it must’ve been sometime around seven or so?”

“Which way did they leave?”

The girl pointed. “Up the road thataways.”

The photographs disappeared into the coat again. “Thank you very much,” he said. “Could I get my order to go, then?” The notepad and pen appeared again.

“Sure thing,” the other said, and they both disappeared into the back.

“Did you see that? See that? He’s totally a cop!!” Her voice was high with excitement. “Probably a detective! I wonder what those two did?”

“Will you keep it down? He might hear you!” A glance back showed the man now with his back to them, cell phone to his ear. “Whatever it is, it’s probably dangerous. C’mon, we gotta tell Cook.”

Back at the counter, the man listened to two rings and a click on the phone. Nothing more. “Balder, Montana, Tony’s Diner attached to a gas station on Terryville Road, Rosebud County. Seen here yesterday, June 14th, Tuesday, by a waitress named ‘Julie.’ Left heading northwest after seven in the evening.” He snapped it shut.

He had caught up. It was time to close the trap.

————————

It was four in the evening before Mashina roused herself from the bed above the cabin of the RV. Brenton heard her move before her legs swung down from above him. He glanced up at her.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Her landing was soft, barely heard above the thrum of the engine. She already had her pistols strapped to either leg, one of her sickle-like blades on her back. Does she sleep with that stuff on? She didn’t grace him with a response, but instead merely turned and made her way to the back of the RV, disappearing into the bathroom.

Always a peach in the morning. He punched a button and started to hum with some upbeat pop song on the radio.

A thin arm reached past him and started to push the buttons, breaking up the tune. “Hey!” he protested, but paused when Elise cast him a glare and kept pushing buttons.

“No yellow,” she stated.

Brenton ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Right,” he muttered. A moment later, they were rolling along, some majestic-sounding instrumental piece echoing out from the speakers. They sat like that, Elise perched in the passenger seat like a bird, ready to take flight at a moment’s notice. Brenton looked sideways at her, but she paid him no notice, humming along with a melody that he couldn’t pick out from all the instruments.

A moment later Mashina reappeared from the bathroom, rubbing a towel over damp hair. She leaned on the back of the front seats. “So?”

He pointed to the map. A yellow line, highlighted carefully at every turn, conveyed their current northwesterly path. Mashina scrutinized it, then turned an eye upon him. “We’re not making very good time.”

Brenton sighed. “Well, Elise wanted to go on a nature walk during lunch today. That took an hour or more off our travel time, so blame her.”

“No need,” the knight replied. “Switch next stop?”

“Sure.”

They were headed to a remote area of Montana, where an independent mage was said to live, free from the obligations and contracts of an official Academy. They hoped he would be able to help Elise out of whatever spell had been cast on her – and hopefully willing to do so even if it took a while, unlike the Academies that had given her the death sentence within the week. He gritted his teeth and felt the handle of the axe by his side, imbued with spells that gave him abilities he’d never dreamed of before. He had promised to pay back those people someday. Maybe not now, but someday.

But until then, he owed everything to Mashina. He would pay her back someday, as well. It was she who had gotten him the weapons he wore now, the magically enhanced tools that enabled him to protect Elise. Normal people couldn’t get a hold of them; only knights, those specially trained forces, could purchase them.

I’m the only normal one in this group. A wry smile touched his lips. Who was normal? What was normal about their situation? Nothing much. But he supposed being the only one who didn’t know anything about magic made him the oddball in this strange group.

“Say, Mashina – I know you’re a knight and all, so knowing something about magic isn’t odd or anything, but you sure do know a lot. Is one of your family members a mage?”

Piercing blue eyes looked at him for a moment, then moved away. “I have no family to speak of,” she replied.

“Huh.” He allowed his eyes to roam the empty road ahead. “Then I suppose you’re the same as us. Our original parents weren’t deemed fit to take care of us, and none of our relatives wanted us, so we ended up up for adoption when I was four. Elise doesn’t remember it, but I do, the day our parents became ours. They were elderly – almost seventy when they adopted us. They passed on about five years back. Just the two of us, now.” He glanced up, away. “Well, three, now, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t count me as your family.”

So harsh. “What else would I count you as?” He smiled. “I wouldn’t do this much for someone if they weren’t family. Do you usually do this much for strangers?”

The woman pushed up from the chair. “I’m just as wanted as you, by now. I can’t go back. For now, I’m just as well off with you as without.” She turned. “You should know that much by now.”

She disappeared into the back again, this time in search of food. Elise continued to hum along, oblivious. Brenton sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. “Y’know, I miss campus. Girls, Elise. Girls I could talk to, understand. Flirting – you don’t know flirting, I know, you were never into it – but flirting! Hanging out! Socializing.” He sighed. “I could do with a beer or two.”

“Cowslips!”

“Yeah, I know, you don’t-”

“Cowslips! Brenton, cowslips!”

The excitement of her voice drew his eyes to her window, where she was pressed up against the glass, eyes focused on the forest outside the window. She turned, hope in her eyes.

“What? You want out again?”

The excitement in her eyes exploded.

Brenton glanced behind, but Mashina didn’t seem to be paying attention. He thought for a moment, then decided. He needed a break, too. “Fine. All right. Let’s go.”

————————–

They’ve left the vehicle; momentarily stopped. Are we ready?

All preparations are complete. We just need to be within range.

Roger. Begin mission when ready.

————————–

Sun basked skin like the touch of a lover. Elise let it soak into her, reveling in how it seemed to touch her very bones. There was nothing wrong with this. Her brother was stretching out the drive from his bones, running in place and then trying to touch his toes. He had been behind the wheel since lunch, so Elise supposed he must be creaky; she herself could roam up and down the RV so long as she was quiet.

Quiet, long halls, full of knowledge that no one and everyone knew, full of secrets that told themselves, but only when you cooked a good meal for them, only if you tucked them in at night. And between them all the pansies would dance, floating on a wind of silver butterflies.

The flowers. Elise reached out a hand and tried to grasp them, but they were out of her reach, so she took a step. And another. And another. They stayed as far away as before, until Elise was stretching to her limit and her fingers only just brushing them…

“Elise, watch your feet!”

The flower shattered into a thousand shards of stone, and she looked down to find herself standing on the edge of a shallow ravine, a mere trickle of water wandering at the bottom. She looked up, but the shards had disappeared, burned away by the sun.

Well, she wasn’t going to wait for them to return. She had come here for the other flowers, anyway. She carefully climbed down into the ravine and up again the other side. There was a patch of wildflowers on the other side, which she immediately delved into, surrounded by an aroma much more pleasant than that of their vehicle.

At the RV, she could see Mashina poke her head out from the side entrance and say something to Brenton, making him turn towards her and say something in return. The sun reflected brightly, catching the side of the double-edged axe that hung from his side. Elise tilted her head, mesmerized by the sparkle, then mesmerized by the sparkles that arose all around her, lights reflecting off facets of the air like a chandelier. She watched them dance, not even noticing when the trickle of power around her suddenly surged, hardly even caring when she felt her own power, her own magic, suddenly be consumed and depressed, out of her reach. The lights were more important. They had the answer to it all.

—————–

In a round room in a remote building two people stood. One was in the middle of the room, in the middle of a circular pattern that was, for the most part, devoid of decoration. The walls were bare and unbroken but for the entrances, a shining hardwood that shone in the care that was given to them. A single desk pushed to the side was the only furniture, and the lights were turned down to dim. It allowed him to see the energies better.

To the side of the central circle stood an older man, hair long and combed back into a ponytail. He stood with a notebook in one hand, a pen in another. His green eyes fairly split the air between him and the other person in the room.

Small for his age, anyone who didn’t know the boy would probably guess him to be around thirteen, but in truth he had turned fifteen but a month ago. He was at the center of the circle now, hazel eyes down and to the side, not daring to look directly at the older man.

“So you’re ready to try again?”

The boy nodded. There was no point in refusing. He learned that a long time ago.

“Well then, get going. I’d rather you finish this Gate before it gets dark, you know.”

The young mage nodded again and took a deep breath, letting his mind sink into itself. It would be his third attempt. The master would not allow another unpunished failure.

———————-

It took Brenton mere seconds to react once the first few shots were fired. With a surge of terror running through him, he dove headfirst into the ravine, A shot whizzed by his ear, and he found the axe in his hands, a familiar weight. Adrenaline surged through his veins and he sprinted down the length of the shallow pit towards the first one he had seen, stuttering out his activation of his shield-necklace as he ran. Then he was up and out and charging the first man, dressed in camouflaged clothing, striking, knocking the gun away and changing course.

“Elise!” He wasn’t sure if he really yelled it, but his eyes found her, still sitting where he had seen her last, unconcerned with what was happening. Brenton could see the haze of another shield around her, no doubt activated by Mashina, who was now crouched by the RV’s entrance, both guns out and blazing. Satisfied, he scanned the forest edge and took off again, kicking the gun away from the first man as he went, hoping he really had just knocked the man out and not killed him. As he ran, he whispered another word, feeling a magical strength rush into him and enhancing his power threefold.

Before he got very far, the ground erupted around him, shunted to the side by his shield but dangerous nonetheless. His footing gave way, but he jumped, somehow finding a path through warping stone until he was clear. He drew the axe back behind his shoulder and swung down, yelling another word that caused a crack and a wave of energy to flare out ahead of him, slicing grasses and flowers alike and tearing into the wood of the forest. He heard a yell of some kind, but he couldn’t stop there. His feet took him to the edge of the first mangled tree as a stream of concentrated fire came from his right and crashed into his shield.

It can only take so much. He dove to the side, target forgotten, and sought momentary protection behind a tree. The moment the fire let up he was running again, lungs working like bellows and muscles screaming with effort to cover too much space in too little time. Where was the bastard? He would tear his face off! He rounded a tree and found…a woman. Surprise flashed through him for a moment, and that was all that she needed; a bolt of electricity lanced around him, snapped him back to reality, took down his shield. But he was ready now; he dashed forward, swinging the axe around him like a club and with a growled word brought it down with a solid swing onto the mage’s shield. It wavered and buckled, unprepared for whatever it was that was in his weapon, and he swung again, feeling it disappear, and he was there, free hand connecting with her jaw and sending her sprawling, out cold.

Elise! His eyes pierced through the foliage and saw her, sitting, staring at something else, in her little circle of untouched flowers.

There was a man towering above her.

Later, Brenton could not remember what happened. He remembered fear, rage, terror, desperation well up in him. He remembered moving, but not how much or how quickly, or even how. He remembered blood, blood not his own.

Blood not even human.

A wail cut through the haze in his mind, and then suddenly the world became filled with them. He looked to the side and found a man getting torn apart by something that his mind could not reconcile as being alive. Somewhere else another one tore through the underbrush, ripping up plants and throwing them nonchalantly out of the way. Somewhere else some kind of magical discharge went off, an explosion of power that sent debris flying out and upwards.

And in front of him, an abomination, a demon with wings spewing forth from its back, ripping apart the man he had been about to kill himself. He stared, frozen, unable to take his eyes off the carnage, so sudden, so violent, that had just rained down from that clear, sunny sky.

It met his eyes.

Some instinct inside him, some primal force drove him to act, and even as the talons flashed through the air he managed to stave the deadly strike from his neck and torso. The nails drew back, and Brenton shouted a word in panic, weakly swinging the axe sideways towards it. A wave of light caught it in the neck and sent it sprawling away from him, boils bubbling up from the skin around the deep cut in its skin. Brenton pulled back and shouted again, sending another wave crashing into it even as it spread its wings and attempted to fly away. The wave caught it in the torso, slicing cleanly and sending black liquid away from him in a fountain.

Brenton spun, saw nothing but carnage around him, more creatures of hell climbing, dragging, flying in from somewhere. They killed our enemies, but they’re not our allies. He felt behind him, found Elise’s shield down, and dragged her to her feet. She rose slowly, her eyes on something he could not see.

“Elise, to the RV!” He spun her behind him and sent another wave of that energy crashing into something with too many limbs before it reached them. It cried out a shriek that sent tingles up his spin and collapsed to the side.

“Brenton, duck!”

Dragging Elise with him, Brenton threw himself at the ground, and a wide-spread wave of energy spread out above him, cutting through everything in its path. He glanced back to see Mashina, a sickle-blade in one hand and a gun in the other. She jerked her head. “Let’s go!”

Brenton nodded and got up, pulling at Elise.

She pulled away.

He looked down, fear spiking through him – but she was merely sitting, staring out at the field. Then she turned her head, wide eyes meeting his.

“I’m too late.”

“Never mind that,” Brenton said. “C’mon, we have to go!” He grasped her arm again.

“Too late.” She jerked her arm from his grip, slipping away, taking a few steps away. Her hands rose in front of her, covered her mouth. “Too late, too late, too late!”

Gritting his teeth, he rushed to her side. A new wave of demons was starting to emerge from the forest. “Elise, we have to go!” He reached for her.

Then she turned again, quick light steps taking her from his reach. Her eyes didn’t see him. “No.” Her hands lowered from her face, slowly. “No…maybe not.”

He had seen things that weren’t supposed to exist that day. His peaceful afternoon had shattered, broken like a mirror to the sure, firm hit from a hammer. He could feel the splinters digging into him, and he didn’t have the capacity to deal with any more. He felt anger well up in him, and he reached out to her once more, taking a breath to yell something – anything – at this person who was not and was his sister, to this person that he could love and hate at the same time and not know the difference…

But something stopped him. There was a color around her, a glow that wasn’t possible, and suddenly there was a gate – no, a Gate – rising out the ground behind her. It looked as if it was supposed to be golden, but somehow he got the impression that it wasn’t. In fact, even as he saw it he saw beyond it with perfect clarity, as though it wasn’t really there and that it was all just a figment of his imagination. In that glow that wasn’t really there, his sister’s eyes melted from gray to white to yellow to blue, shifting between colors and never once leaving any of them. Motion around them started to slow, and everything around her lost its vibrancy, lost its color. Slowly, deliberately, she turned her head, raising a hand to the glow, letting it slide across her fingers. Then she looked at him, eyes meeting his with the directness of a bucket of cold water.
He looked around, and found that nothing around them was moving. Demons were frozen in the act of jumping, crawling, tearing. Branches were hanging in mid-air, clouds standing perfectly still in the gray sky.

“Elise, what…”

She merely flicked her hand, and suddenly the world around them dissolved, grass melting into wood, sky morphing into a ceiling, dirt changing to stone. And then they were somewhere else completely – somewhere Brenton didn’t recognize.

There was blood here, too. And demons. They, too, were frozen. The corpse of what may have been a man at one point lay mangled on the edge of a circular stone floor, a notebook destroyed by blood lying near it, torn apart by claws not natural. A pattern of some kind swirled in and around the circle, working its way inwards to the center.

At the center, a young boy lay on the ground, eyes wide and filled with terror. He appeared to be bound to the floor by chains that rose from the ground and wound around not just him, but the contraption that was above him.

Had Brenton not just seen one, he would not have mistaken the Gate for what it was. It was the only other thing in the room that had color; it was a deep purple, its arch appearing to be made of stone and twined with artificial vines and leaves. At the very top a hard-to-see number nine was imbedded into the surface. Between its posts was a shimmery cloud, flat and moving with power.

Brenton didn’t know what to do. He stared. He stared as Elise wafted by him, seeming to flicker in and out of his sight. He stared as she carefully bent and broke apart the floor with a few whispered words, destroying the pattern. He stared as she pulled the chains from the boy. And he stared as the purple Gate started to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Experiment gone wrong.” Mashina’s voice, subdued and quiet, sounded from behind him. He turned. She pulled out the other sickle. “Ninth Gate is the Gate of Summoning. As with any Gate, the first time you open it, you can cast any spell you want without using your own life’s energy to power it. Must have opened it and forced it to stay open. The first time is the only time you see the actual Gate, anyway.” She pointed across the room. “There are demons here. They must have come through on their own, since the way was clear. Before Elise unfreezes time, I say we dispatch of them.”

She was calm. She was too calm. But she was right. Brenton couldn’t find it in him to argue. Too much had happened today; all he wanted was an end. In more ways than one, he wanted an end.

The demons didn’t fall until color had returned to the world again, and time resumed. Then they all hit the ground with a thud and sick, wet sounds as blood that hadn’t been moving found its way clear of constraints. A cry caught their attention, and the boy on the ground clambered away from Elise, who sat very still beside him.

He seemed to realize he could move, and his hands shot up to his face, heaving sobs racking his body. He hunched into a ball, knees up to his face. Elise moved over to him, more gently than had she been touching a butterfly, and put her arms around him. He didn’t unfold, and his cries cut into Brenton more surely than any knife. He turned away.

“What now?” he asked Mashina.

The woman tore her eyes from the boy and turned away as well. “Well…I don’t know where we are, but if I had to wager a guess, I’d say we’re at the house we were headed to.”

“The independent mage we were hoping would help Elise?”

Mashina nodded. “And I’d also guess that he can’t help us anymore.”

Images of mangled limbs, too much blood. The scent was everywhere. He felt bile rise in his throat and forced it down again. “Right.” He looked around again. “I don’t think we’ll want to stay here very long.”

“No. The American Academy will surely be here soon to see what happened, especially since a British Academy group just got killed in an instant, with no warning, and they have demons running rampant across the countryside.”

“But…we’ve lost our ride.”

“We’ll have to acquire one from our most generous mage, for now. We can abandon it the moment we get back to the RV. It’s not like we’ll want to keep that for long either, though. They probably know what it looks like, now.”

“Right.” Damn, but he was going to be low on money pretty soon. Then what? It’s not like he could get a job, the way things were…

He looked back. The cries were quieter, just a bit. He sighed. “I hate to leave him, but we need to get going. I guess we can leave him to the proper authorities.”

Mashina nodded.

Brenton walked over to them, his boots thudding heavily against the stone of the floor. When he was beside them, he crouched down and put a hand on Elise’s shoulder. “Hey, Elise. We have to get going, now. The Academy will be here soon.”

His sister loosened her grip on the boy, sliding herself away from him. Her hand paused for a moment on his shoulder, and then lifted away, and she slowly rose to her feet beside him. Her eyes stayed on him.

“Through the darkness shall come some kind of light. Not all shall be lost. Even the shards of secrets shall pass.” Then she turned away, striding away from him and towards Mashina.

Brenton looked down at the kid, not knowing what to say, how to explain his sister. He finally decided there was no explanation he could give that would matter, and with a sigh turned away himself.

A hand clamped on his leg.

When he looked down, he followed the hand up the arm to the boy. Sighing, he dropped to his haunches. “Look, kid…I can’t make this go away. What happened here…I can’t help you. But I’m sure the Academy will be here soon, and they’ll…”

“NO!”

Such terror was packed in that one word that Brenton started, looked around fully expecting another demon to be standing behind him. Seeing no such thing, he brought his gaze back to the boy.

His gaze was met with a tear-stained, fear-filled face. “I don’t want to go to an Academy! If I go there I’ll just continue to be used, just like I was with the master. They’ll make me do things and yell at me and nothing I do will ever be enough, not until I can pay off my tuition and leave them for good! I’ll end up old and bitter just like the master was, and I don’t want that! Please…don’t leave me…”

Brenton pulled the hand from his pant leg. “Look, kid, you can’t come with us. The Academy is chasing after us, and you’ll probably get attacked by them just by being in the same car as us. It’d be better if you just go with them now. If you work hard, it won’t be that long before you get out of there.”

He stood up and walked back to Mashina and Elise, feeling like dirt, smelling the blood and seeing the carnage all over again. To leave a kid in the middle of all that…

“We’re going,” Elise said abruptly, and started to chant. Brenton studied her face. She was there. Gloriously, completely there. He felt a bubble of hope start to rise, but immediately pressed it back down. Would she be there tomorrow? Would she be whole? Would she be herself for much longer, or was this just another ethereal moment that would disappear the moment he touched it?

Once again, the world around him dissolved into itself, save this time in reverse. The stone gave way to ground, the low ceiling to open sky. The walls disappeared.

They seemed to hover a moment, the energies of the spell playing around them. Then it dispersed, and Elise staggered. Brenton caught her, held her against him, supported her as she went completely limp. He looked at Mashina.

“Drained herself. All she needs is rest.”

Brenton nodded and turned, noting the torn-up earth and dents in the RV that hadn’t been there before. None of the demons were there, though. They must have moved on. Good thing. He started towards the RV’s entrance, picking up Elise as he went.

He bumped into something.

It moved.

He leapt back immediately, but his hands were full and he couldn’t pull out his axe, and he certainly couldn’t fight with Elise in his arms. He cried out, hoping Mashina would catch on, but then stopped, staring.
The boy got up, slowly dusting himself off from the dirt of the road’s shoulder. His brown eyes were wide as he viewed the open space around him. Something – hope? relief? – flickered in their depths.

“I…I thought you said you weren’t taking me.”

“I did.”

Mashina walked past Brenton, past the boy, and climbed up into the RV. She hesitated with the door open. “Hurry up,” she said. “We don’t know if more are around or not. It’s not safe here either way, though. I’m sure the Academy will show up here soon, as well.”

A smile, tremulous and small, touched the boy’s lips, and he scrambled after the woman. Brenton grimaced, but followed. Mashina had never steered him wrong before. He supposed he could trust her in this as well.
As he placed his foot on the RV’s doorframe, he looked down at the face of his sleeping sister. There was nothing there to indicate what was going on behind the curtains of those eyelids. When they opened again, would it be her behind them, or would it be that fragment of her, that fleeting moment that slid away and came back with every second? He tightened his grip. In the fight, a man had gone right up to her. Had stood over her. Would no doubt have killed her. And he had let it happen.

He wasn’t strong enough, yet.

He curled his arms around her, hugging her to him as if somehow he could shield her forever with just this, and suddenly the hope he hadn’t let himself feel before flooded him with an acuteness close to pain.  If only he could stop time right there, at this moment, when he was alive, and Elise was alive, and he could believe that in the morning it would all be over.  Inside, he knew somehow that it would not be – that it would continue, that Elise would lose herself to the madness again, that he would have to chase after that piece of her that remained.  But now, just now, she was there, somewhere in that body, whole and untried, and he could hope.  Hope that one day – one day – it would all go back to the way should be.  Hope that this would not end.  Hope…

He clambered up into the RV and sat on the couch, Elise cradled against his chest.  Under his feet the RV rumbled softly, and a moment later they were moving once again, away from the horror of that place, onwards.  Energy suddenly abandoned Brenton, and he let his head tilt back with a thud, staring up through the tattered blinds towards the cloudless sky.  Like phantoms, branches of the forest whisked by, seen and then gone, blurred silent observers to a road that merely faded into the distance with no end…