Dreams of Fire Page 3

  The next week flew by in a flurry of commissions and painting. The volume of work had increased but Kara took it in stride. She worked with a quiet focus as she embellished each piece with her expert touch. Daniela kept the website updated and ran all the marketing campaigns. Kara didn’t know what she would do without her. She was the most diligent secretary one could ask for. On Friday evening, Kara and Daniela delivered the finished works to the clients. Kara went to Adams Morgan where she dropped off her latest masterpiece and Daniela took the train out to Springfield. After the deliveries were complete, they called it a day and returned home.

  Later that night, Kara strolled along the waterfront as the sun sank behind the far shore. Passersby chatted pleasantly and the playful shouting of children echoed in the distance. People trickled in and out of bright storefronts, some with bags, some with steaming cups of hot cocoa. A thick scarf was wrapped around Kara’s neck and draped over the front of her coat. Her breath rose in clouds before her face and the chill breeze blew through her golden hair. Kara’s mittened hands were buried in her pockets while she walked up the street.

  She passed by a crowded Italian restaurant and came upon an oblong ice rink which extended into the water. People glided gracefully over the ice while spectators watched from the sidelines. They grinned and snapped photos of their loved ones who zipped past them. Kara reached for her camera and removed the lens cover. She clicked it on and took photographs of smiling clusters of people while they glided together hand-in-hand. Kara saw a child taking his first tentative steps along the ice while the mother held his hand. He pushed off slowly with his back foot, then the other. As he gained confidence, his mother let go and watched his skate ahead. The boy picked up speed but then suddenly his feet slid out from under him and pitched forward. But the mother cushioned his fall with a shimmering cloud of light. Then she floated him back up to his feet and he tried again. Kara was lucky enough to capture the exact moment when the child was suspended over the ice. She reviewed the image on the LED screen and smiled to herself.

  Kara turned and wandered back down the street where she found a large firepit surrounded by people in puffy coats and scarves. They sat in brightly colored chairs and assembled their s’mores. But the firepit was dark and cold. Kara took photos of the people as they pressed graham crackers together against marshmallows and pierced them with sticks. Then a man took off his gloves and conjured a flame to light the firepit. For a moment, Kara was chilled as she remembered Charlotte’s threat from a year ago, “Every time you see fire you will hear my voice and see my face.” But then Kara saw how the fire illuminated the crowd’s cheerful faces as they held their s’mores over the flames. She took a few close-up shots and nodded with satisfaction. After she took a few more photos, Kara ate dinner and retired to her apartment for the rest of the night.

  Kara woke up the next morning and let out a yawn as she stretched. The golden sunlight streamed in through the blinds as she threw the covers off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She wandered lazily into the kitchen and got the coffee machine started. Today, she would do nothing productive; she resolved. After the previous week of intense work, she had earned a day to just relax. As the coffee machine percolated on the counter, Kara walked back to her bedroom where she retrieved her phone from the nightstand. She reclined on the couch and scrolled through her relevant social media feeds. Kara giggled and “liked” the photos her friends had shared online. Then she poured herself a mug of coffee and enjoyed a toasted bagel covered in jam.

  While she ate, her phone chimed in the quiet stillness of her apartment. She glanced down at the screen and saw a text from Selene.

  “Let’s grab lunch later.” she wrote. “I’m in the mood for seafood.”

  Kara grinned and responded, “I’d love to.”

  “12 noon at the pier by your place?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “See you then,” Selene replied.

  “See you.”

  The waterfront was abuzz with its usual activity on the afternoon of Kara and Selene’s second date. They bought food from the seafood market and took stools by the water as passersby went about their business. Seagulls drifted in the breeze overhead and a queue of passengers streamed out of a water taxi that had just docked at the pier. Joggers ran up and down the street and dog walkers strolled casually past the fleet of moored boats that bobbed in the water. Music played out of busy storefronts while harried waitstaff zipped back and forth between tables. The sun shone brightly over the lazy river as Kara and Selene spread out their meals on the table.

  Kara leaned forward and inhaled the fishy aroma of her crab cake sandwich before she bit into it ravenously. The outer crust of the patty crunched lightly in her mouth as she relished the cool and tangy tartar sauce on her taste buds. Selene stuffed French fries into her mouth before she tossed her head back and chugged a bottle of beer.

  The afternoon was unseasonably warm as Kara ate with the sleeves of her white sweater pushed up to her elbows. Selene laid her jacket on the table next to her food, her tattooed arms bare against the straps of her dark tank top. Selene swallowed a mouthful of French fries and then spoke amidst the faint cries of seagulls above them.

  “So, tell me more about your childhood. Where’d you live? What’s your family like?” she asked.

  Kara sipped at a can of soda then set her drink on the table. She started at the beginning, with her early years in the city. She told Selene about her two brothers and how they always had to watch over one another in the treacherous streets of D.C. Life was difficult and violent, but the Hartmans thrived. The three siblings defended one another from muggers and bullies and it was not unusual for them to watch victoriously as some would-be crook ran away from them. She told Selene about the cramped townhouse where they lived with the clunky AC units that protruded from the windows. Kara vividly remembered the dilapidated shudders and the backdoor that would never close all the way. They did not have to live there long, however. After Kara’s mother graduated from university and her design business took off, they moved out of the city, away from all the crime. The Hartman family settled in Bristow, a peaceful, stable neighborhood where Kara and her two brothers spent the remainder of their youth.

  “Can your parents wield magic?” Selene asked.

  “My father can, but not my mother. He’s very good at Animation Spells.” Kara laughed to herself. “I remember he would always make our toys dance and leap around whenever we were upset over something.”

  “That’s cute.” Selene grinned. “What does your mom think about being married to a magic user?”

  Kara giggled. “She was really freaked out when they first started dating. It took her a while to get used to the sight of objects floating around and broken things reassembling themselves.”

  “Can your brothers channel magic too?” Selene asked before she took another sip of beer.

  Kara nodded. “Yes.”

  “Wow, so your mom was the only non-mystic in a house full of magic. That must’ve been interesting,” Selene replied.

  Kara finished chewing her last bite of crab cake. She covered her mouth as she laughed quietly at Selene’s comment. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

  Selene dipped a French fry in a blob of ketchup and tossed it into her mouth. “Well, neither of my parents have magical ability. I get mine from my grandmother, I guess. My mom is a restaurant manager. My dad’s a plumber. My brother and I grew up in the Bronx. It was rough. Like you, we had to look out for each other a lot. Unlike you, we never got a chance to escape. I can’t count how many fights we got into, how many times we came home with cuts and bruises,” Selene replied. “Our mom was always giving us crap about staying out of fights, but it just couldn’t be helped. When our magic manifested, my grandmother sent us a spell book and we started teaching ourselves.” Selene paused and tipped her bottle of beer at her lips. “My brother never got to explore his magic much, though.”

  “Why
is that?” Kara asked.

  “He’s…on the other side now. He was killed in a gang fight.” Selene said reluctantly. She looked across the water and fell silent for a long moment.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Kara. Her heart ached as she remembered the brother she herself had lost. But she pushed away the thought and listened to Selene.

  “Yeah, it was a long time ago.” Another silence stretched between them. Kara sensed her heaviness and tried to think of something else to talk about. She looked at Selene’s arms and saw many intricate patterns on her skin. Kara was about to ask what they represented, but Selene beat her to the punch. “So, who inspired you to start painting?”

  Relieved by the change of subject, Kara answered, “My three biggest inspirations are definitely Monet, Van Gogh and Dali.”

  “Why them?” she asked with a smile.

  “I like them because when I look at their work I don’t just see what they saw. I see how they perceived it. I can feel their heart through their brush strokes.” Kara replied.

  “That’s deep.” Selene said. “Wait, wasn’t Dali a crack head?”

  Kara chortled. “Allegedly.”

  “So, if I were to go through your apartment, would I find a bong lying around somewhere?” Selene bantered.

  “What? No!” Kara exclaimed as she laughed. Her giggle played on Selene’s ears like the chirping of a bird.

  “Well, I mean since you wanna be like him so much …”

  Kara hissed in amusement and shook her head. “What about you, Selene? Do you have any artistic talent?” She took another sip of her drink.

  “I sure do.”

  “Really?”

  “I can make a bad-ass stick figure.”

  “Ah, impressive!” Kara teased.

  They both chuckled.

  “What do you like about painting?” Selene tipped a beer bottle at her lips.

  “I like the freedom of it; the fact that I have total control of every minuscule detail. And I just love stepping back from my canvas knowing that I’ve created something beautiful.” Kara replied. “What do you like about demon-hunting?”

  Selene smiled. “No two days are ever the same in my line of work. I don’t think I could ever do some boring 9-5. I like the adrenaline I get from it.” she said.

  “Most people ride rollercoasters and dirt bikes for adrenaline.”

  “Well, I’m not most people.” Selene smiled.

  “No, you’re certainly not.” Kara chuckled. Selene finished her beer then glanced at her phone.

  “I gotta head out.” she said. “Some billionaire CEO needs me to cast a Ward around his vault. Apparently, a demon attempted to steal one of their prototypes last night.” She tucked her phone into her pocket then donned her jacket.

  “Get that money.” Kara replied.

  Selene smiled and hugged her. “Bye. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Okay. Bye.” Kara responded.

  Selene tossed her trash in a waste bin and left.

  Saba Qureshi Prison, Canadian Wilderness, Present

  On a dark, winding road a long train of buses rolled through the Canadian wilderness. The endless forest flew by the somber passengers as they stared out the windows and spoke little. The young recruits wore the dark coat of the Enforcers and each had exactly one grey duffel bag of personal belongings. Their overstuffed bags lay beneath the seats behind their booted feet while the buses bounced and rumbled up the road. As the young recruits traversed the last leg of their journey, each one thought about all that had come before. Some were there because they were on a mission, some because they simply had no other choice. Regardless of their reasons for becoming Enforcers they all shared the same fate; they were to be soldiers in a never-ending war, champions of a world few understood.

  In the rear of the first bus sat a young woman by the name of Saba Qureshi. She stood a full head shorter than average and her dark brown hair was most often twined in a short braid behind her head. Her eyes were like black pearls and her eyelashes tapered upward in a graceful arc. They were a striking contrast to her pale brown complexion.

  She sat pressed tightly against the wall with four other recruits. Saba tried to ignore the discomfort as she fought down the impulse to leap out the window and simply walk the rest of the way. She looked up ahead and saw the prison a few more miles up the road. It looked like an ugly boulder towering above the canopy of the forest. Its thick, dreary walls surrounded the complex as the tiny silhouettes of Enforcers patrolled the ramparts. Beyond the prison and the living quarters stood the Tower which shone brightly with a forbidding, crimson glow. At its peak, was a crystal which emitted an energy that dampened the magic of the prisoners. It was the only thing that kept the rogue mystics from blasting out of their cells. Only the Enforcers could retain their magic under the crimson glow of the Tower. The silver bracelets around their right wrists shielded them from the Tower’s effects. Saba frowned. In a few moments, her magic would be ripped away until she could be fitted with her own bracelet.

  Once the buses entered within range of the Tower, a collective gasp rippled among the passengers. Saba heard whispers of “Can you cast?” and “Did you feel that?” Her peers gestured and muttered incantations in their seats to no effect. Their magic was gone. Tears gathered in the corners of their eyes and a few cried openly. Saba herself felt her heart shatter when the Tower stifled her magic. One could not tell by looking at her face, though. Despite her deep sorrow, Saba’s demure visage remained intact.

  The gate of the prison slowly swung open as the buses rolled up to the outer wall. They pulled through the gate and into an open area where the new recruits filed out of their respective buses. The young men and women hauled their bags from under the seat and marched out the open door into the grey, cold afternoon. They gathered before the main entrance to the prison where they were met by a woman in her early thirties not much taller than Saba. She was of a fair, creamy complexion and her short brown hair fell to her ears. Despite her diminutive stature, she stood as one accustomed to being obeyed. “Welcome recruits! You have arrived at the Canadian stronghold,” the woman said loudly enough for all to hear. “I am Amelia Schumacher, second-in-command. If you will follow me, we will begin your orientation.” She then turned and walked toward a pair of heavy oak doors which swung open of their own accord.

  Amelia led the recruits through long stone corridors and wide expansive halls. The young Enforcers stared up in awe at the high vaulted ceilings and the tall arched windows which glowed with the pale sunlight from outside. The walls were adorned with vibrant tapestries of legendary battles and heroic figures of magical history. The young recruits momentarily forgot the sorrow of their suppressed magic as they marveled at the animated friezes hewn into the rock and the floating chandeliers that levitated high above their heads.

  They came upon another pair of wooden doors which opened quietly at their approach. The chamber they entered strongly resembled a lecture hall; with semicircular tiers of seats which led down to a central stage where there was a large wooden desk and a chair. “Everyone, please take a seat.” Amelia said. The new recruits silently obeyed as they filled the rows and trickled down the stairs to the lower tiers. Saba took a seat in one of the middle rows and placed her bag on the floor by her feet. Amelia stood on the central stage and watched expectantly as the recruits seated themselves. When they were all settled, a burly giant man entered the chamber from the lowest level. Amelia was almost comically dwarfed by his imposing stature. The man surveyed the room with pale blue eyes as the sun fell upon his neatly trimmed blond hair.

  “Good afternoon, recruits. And welcome to your new home. I am John Hartman, Warden of the Canadian stronghold.” he said. “You have all undertaken a noble quest to defend the non-magical world against rogue mystics who defy the laws of the Council. You have completed your physical exams, your magical studies and your combat training. Well done! Now is the time to apply what you have learned so that the world can
sleep a little safer tonight because of the path you have chosen.” John paused briefly as he looked around the chamber. “I see from your faces that you have felt the effects of the Tower. Don’t worry. Your magic will be restored soon. And on that note, I hand things back to your second-in-command.”

  John Hartman then turned and left the room as two more Enforcers entered and stood to the left of the stage. One of them was a tall pretty blond with longish hair and cheeks lightly dusted with freckles. The other was a wide man of dark complexion and average height with black eyes and flaring nostrils. “All right, recruits. Officers Marcus Jones and Rachel McGuinness will escort you in groups of ten to be fitted with your bracelets. After your magic is restored, you will find your living quarters and report to the arena for physical training at 16:00.”

  Immediately the two Enforcers began to shepherd the young recruits, each one taking a group of ten. Saba watched longingly from the middle row as the one named Marcus led his group through the same door where John exited moments before. When, at last, her turn came, she and her group were escorted by the golden-haired Rachel through a narrow corridor and into a small chamber where bored functionaries sat at a long wooden table. The last few recruits from the previous group were almost finished when Saba entered the room behind the officer. When their magic was restored, Saba walked forward to the table where she was greeted by a bland, old man with a gaunt face and stern eyes.

  “Right wrist forward, please.” the man said as he stared at her over his thick glasses. Saba extended her right hand forward and the man retrieved a sparkling bracelet from beneath the table. He fastened it around her wrist and instantly a fire ignited deep inside her. She gasped quietly and shivered at the return of her magic. “Cast a spell. Anything.” the man said.

  Saba raised her palm and summoned a ball of flame that levitated above her hand. The bracelet sparked with crimson bolts of energy and vibrated against her skin before it became still once more. “The bracelet is now calibrated to your energy signature. It will not work for anyone else. Next!” Relieved that her magic had returned, Saba exited the chamber and left to find her living quarters.