Villains (5 page)

Chapter 3

Ria hated the long waits for Tor.

She sat on the stone bench in the cairn, pouring over the things he brought from the village to store there. The other Flames were laid out on a stone table, covered by a thick beige leather hide. Beside them was a lantern, which flickered with candlelight. Even during the day the cairn was quite dark. On the edge of the table was a stack of parchment papers, some of them looked like the birch trees they had been harvested from. Some of them had cracked edges and black score marks along the outer side. She ran her hand over them and let out a sigh, not knowing how much longer he would be. She took a deep breath, smelling the haunted forest around her, and hearing the pin pricks of moans through the trees. The dead were restless. All of them wanted to escape their nest-like prisons and go to the shores.

When Tor wasn’t around she’d spend the day walking the narrow and trampled paths, listening to the calls of the dead. Most of them wanted to find the shores, pay the Ferryman and visit the afterlife. Some of them had the will to live, as though if a reason came they would break free of the branches and stand on solid ground, the way she did. She turned her shimmering hands over and back again, tracing the patterns of thin amethyst veins spreading through her form. A deep ache formed in her bones, the need to do something other than wait caroming through her. She glanced around the cairn and spotted a heap of metal. Tor had called it armor when he’d last visited her. Crossing the cairn she looked over it, wanting desperately to be able to touch something, affect something on the physical level. She knelt, and tried to put her hand on the armor but her form went through it the way it did with everything else. She hung her head in frustration and glanced at the far wall. Tor had created a makeshift smithy and when he wasn’t writing notes and experimenting with the other Flames he was heating and cooling the armor, reshaping it. She didn’t know what he was trying to do with it, Tor never explained himself. He did things and she watched, often learning more from his actions than his words.

Standing, she moved to the table and ran her hands over the Flames. They lit up underneath the canvas and sang their notes before going dormant again. She narrowed her eyes and tried again, focusing more on the canvas than on the Flames. In a grand gesture it whipped off the table, knocking the lantern on the ground, snuffing out the candle. Aria let out a cry and jumped back, curious about her telekinetic abilities. She whipped around and glared at the armor. It floated seamlessly into the air and she thought about the fire, about melting it down. Tor wouldn’t be back for another few hours and she had all day to do nothing in the cairn. The least she could do was amuse herself by making pretty things. The breastplate entered the large stone fire pit and flames rose to engulf it. Aria kept her attention on crafting something truly original and beautiful. She stepped forward, and without a thought to the heat, stuck her hands into the fire pit, feeling a tingle move up her arms. She giggled as the melted metal slipped between the cracks in her fingers and she moved them like a harpist, defining small points, and shaping a simple band. For a few seconds she forgot that she could touch nothing in the physical world, and pulled her hands out of the fire, bidding the former armor to come with her.

It obeyed, and though lopsided and malformed, it was the beginnings of an elaborate crown. It had a simple headband and what looked like a feather shooting up from the front of it. Aria frowned, she wanted it to look like a flame, like a crown of fire. She lost her focus and it clattered to the floor like a dead thing. Aria’s shoulders slumped.

“You’re quite impressive little girl,” a voice said from the opening in the rock.

Aria jolted, startled and sent a spark along the walls, lighting up every nook, cranny and crack with violet colored energy. Her stomach dropped as an abominably tall woman with long straight whitish blonde hair stepped into the cairn. Aria could barely make out her clothes, but they were a darker blue color, the dress falling to her ankles and showing off her chest. She angled her chin to the air and Aria, without thinking, moved the canvas so it would cover the other Flames. She stepped back, unsure who the woman was or why she was there.

“You’re not Tor.”

The woman laughed; a loud and shrill sound that made Aria cringe. “No dear, I’m Cassareece.” She cocked her head to the side, staring at the canvas. Her fingers went to touch the edge but Aria stepped forward.

“Tor didn’t tell me about you.”

Cassareece looked pained by the comment. “I can’t imagine why…he used to love me.”

Aria watched Cassareece with a careful eye, not wanting her to unveil the Flames and not wanting to reveal herself as an unnatural thing. What Skeld said melded into her form and made her fear herself on a level so deep she couldn’t fathom it. “Tor loves Desaunius.”

“The wretch.”

Aria had nothing to say. She looked at the ground and shuffled foot-to-foot. She had so many questions in her mind she didn’t know which one to pick. Why was the woman there? Who was she? Why wasn’t she afraid of the haunted forest like the villagers? While she was thinking Cassareece glided into the cairn and took a look at the smithy, setting a blaze off in the innards and lighting up the cairn. She picked up the crown Aria had made and inspected it. Aria watched frost cloud Cassareece’s hands as she cooled the metal, turning the feather into something solid. She placed it on the canvas on the table, on top of the other Flames and Aria found her tongue.

“How did you do that?”

Cassareece shot her a devilish smile. “I could do a lot more if Tor would only join us.”

“He—he doesn’t want that.”

Cassareece fixed her with a look and her blue eyes turned to lightning storms. Aria stepped back her own amethyst enflamed eyes surprised. “Do you have a name child? Tor didn’t tell me he had a child with the wretch.”

Aria felt faint. “I—I’m not his…or hers…” She felt an affinity towards Tor because he was her creator, but father, mother, these things were more foreign to her than the Lands Across the Stars. “Tor calls me Aria.”

“What do you call yourself? Where are you from, child?”

Aria refused to answer the second question, and the first baffled her. “I—I don’t know.”

Cassareece squinted in the wavering light from the fire pit, casting half her face in orange light and the other half in darkness. “If I mark you with a name, all will remember it for eternity.” She held up her hand ready to touch Aria’s shoulder, but the girl moved away.

“Tor will always call me Aria.”

Cassareece laughed. “You peculiar girl. I am only here to help you. I brought you some food.” With a flick of her wrist, a bouquet of flowers appeared on the table, the same ones Aria had seen in the haunted forest. They were all sorts of colors, salmon reds, cerulean blues, and golden rod yellows. There were pastel purples and sea greens, and even mercurial blues. Aria’s mouth watered though she didn’t want it to and she stepped forward. There was a glint in Cassareece’s eyes as though this was a test—if Aria didn’t pass the woman would be angry.

Aria focused on the petals and reaching out she pretended to detach one with her hand. Her mind moved it to her mouth and she forced it into her mouth. Her lips clamped down on the substance and something changed. A thrill moved through her, taste exploding through her mouth like a symphony. She savored the sweetness of the petals and forced more into her mouth.

“I like them, why do they taste so good?”

Cassareece smirked. “It’s a secret. Now, for a name…” she tapped a perfect finger on her lips, the fingernail adorned with a sheen of sparkles. Aria took another of the orange petals in her mouth and clamped down on it, but the taste that went through her was disgusting. She tried to spit it out but it was impossible, the petal melded into her form and coursed through her and she shuddered as the feeling passed. Cassareece seemed to watch her reaction with full perplexity.

“Kali Elle,” Cassareece said.

“What?” Aria asked while trying not to gag on the petals. She glanced at the bouquet, which was mostly picked through, a few orange, sea green, and salmon red petals left. All the blue and purple ones were gone. She didn’t want more, but she didn’t know what to do with the rest of them.

“The name that will follow you for eternity.” Cassareece pointed a finger at Aria’s sternum an elaborate emblem appearing above the white dress she formed onto herself. The emblem turned gold and as it touched Aria’s energy she screamed, feeling like a sharp lance was carving the name into her soul. She wanted to slap Cassareece, but she couldn’t reveal her secret, she couldn’t let Cassareece know she was a Flame. She breathed deeply, attempting to withstand the pain until it was over, the mark forever etched onto her form. She wobbled on her feet and fought not to fall over as Cassareece let out another vile laugh.

“Do you not like the name I chose?”

Aria took a gulp of air, feeling lightheaded, from the flowers, the mark, the crown she made. “The flowers. What do I do with the rest of them?”

Cassareece shrugged. “The children should like them, if you’ve had your fill you could share.”

Aria nodded, moving to the table and carefully levitating the bouquet into her arms. She stole a quick glance at Cassareece’s blue lightning eyes, not knowing what to make of her. “I should go.” She moved to the door, expecting Cassareece to follow her but the woman didn’t move. “You should go, too.”

Cassareece seemed pulled out of a daydream. She followed Aria out of the cairn to the fading light and the skeletal trees with their puffs of cotton. “Don’t you want to know what the name means?”

Aria stopped in her tracks, curiosity getting the better of her. She didn’t know why Tor called her Aria or why Cassareece chose Kali Elle, but she couldn’t deny that defining herself was important. She felt so young, so naïve, and so foolish all of the time. She couldn’t afford to be that way if she were to help Tor win the war. “Tell me.”

“You will not tell Tor of our meeting?”

Aria shook her head. If that was the only way to get the answer, she’d obey. “He won’t know you came.”

Cassareece sized her up. Nervousness flitted through Aria as Cassareece stared her down, inspecting everything from her violet tinged skin to her long violet swathed white hair. “It means the girl who will bring death.”

Aria was speechless. Her insides burned and her head throbbed and she wanted to bring death to Cassareece, but she couldn’t even touch her, let alone cause the woman harm. She tried to smooth out her expression and seem indifferent, but of all the things she could have been named, a destroyer wasn’t what Aria wanted at all.

“You don’t like it do you?”

“I—”

“Keep our end of the bargain and do not tell Tor. I will return someday, Kali…Elle.” She winked and she was gone.

Aria trudged through the forest, the bouquet of flowers dragging along the floor behind her. It was like she had them by some invisible string. They skipped over the bumps and cracks, twisting and shaking off leaves until she broke through the tree line and spied the flower shaped lake in the middle of the low cut green grass.

Laughter interrupted Aria in her tracks. On the edge of the lake, behind the village and far from the shores, were the bluffs. Thick vibrant trees, full of orange and yellow leaves wavered in the wind. Their trunks were beige and below them the grass grew almost two feet tall. She found the children climbing trees and jumping into soft grass. Their faces glinted with the shimmer from the silver quenny fruit, a sign of their youth. Their mouths were painted rosy red on the girls and faded beige on the boys. They wore simple summer dresses, tunics and breeches, leather sandals strapped to their feet. They looked up when they saw her and stopped playing. One jumped out of a tree and landed at Aria’s feet, a sheepish expression crossing the young boy’s face.

Aria held her hands out and commanded the bouquet into her arms. She curtsied and held a sea green petal out to one of the young girls in a light blue dress. “I came to share these with you.”

The boys and girls gathered, the boys brushing grass off their tunics, the girls kneeling to get a closer look at the petals.

“They come from the haunted forest,” one of the boys said, authority and fear in his tone. He crossed his arms and glared at the other children.

Aria pulled her mouth to one side in a frown and took the last blue petal off the bouquet, carefully guiding it to her mouth. She pressed down on it, closed her eyes, letting it flood her, forcing a shower of sparks to color her aura with spires of amethyst flames. “They taste very good.”

The children were awestruck and before the boy could stop her, the young girl in the light blue gown held her hand out. “I want the orange one,” she said. Aria detached it from the flower and held it to her.

“Afton,” the boy said, but the girl in the light blue gown flitted away, while others stretched their hands out, waiting for a petal. Aria appeased each of them in turn, giving away the sea green, orange, and salmon colored petals until there was nothing but the deep greenish stems and sharp leaves. She watched them press petals into their mouths one by one, their eyes lighting up with the energy therein.

A shout sounded from across the field and Aria stepped through the tall grass. The boy who didn’t take a petal stood over Afton, the girl in the light blue gown. Her fragile frame rocked like a stormy sea. “You hurt her,” the boy accused. “The petals are poison!” he shouted for everyone to hear.

In minutes the children were on their knees, clutching their stomachs. Some of them retched, spitting, and choking, while others shivered and shook like Afton. Aria’s eyes widened as her good fortune turned to nightmares and cotton-like substance rose out of Afton’s little body.

The boy backed up and fell on his back, shielding his face, and reciting an incantation.

“They tasted good…” Aria whispered unable to conceal her shock. The boy regained himself and stalked over to her, swinging a heavy fist in her direction. Aria stood silent as his fist went through her and he stumbled, landing on his hands and knees. He shot a reproachful look in her direction.