The Magic Wakes (3 page)

“Delays?” She took a bite of eggs smothered in cheese and mushrooms.

“On schedule.”

“Of course it is.” She dumped the full plate down the sink as her stomach twisted. Another deep breath. “I can’t fight destiny. If this is it, this is it.”

She trailed her fingers along the back of her brother’s couch. He used to tease Talia about her antisocial tendencies, telling her Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted her to mourn them so long. She couldn’t tell him the truth then, and now it was too late.

Talia walked down the hall to the bedroom, the edge of the bed sinking as she sat. Her mother’s favorite bedspread lay beneath her and her father’s nightstand waited for her to lay a book on it. But not today. Maybe never again.

She picked up the picture of her parents and Roan on the day he graduated from the University. She wrapped it in a bright red scarf and slipped it into her bag.

The last thing she packed was a worn volume of Sendek’s history. Her father used to tease her mother about it, saying it was fantasy because it had stories of dragons. Talia’s mother would smile and ask him why dragons couldn’t be real. They would discuss it until they were both laughing.

Although her father didn’t believe, Talia knew her mother loved the idea of dragons sharing the planet she walked on, and Talia believed for her sake.

An hour and a half later, Talia watched a dispatcher carry her newest deep space satellite to the station. Perhaps this satellite would bring her the proof she needed to convince the Royalist Army to prepare for the threat. They would never believe in dreams, but scientific proof? No one could refute that.

Talia wished the SEF had reached into space earlier, but other concerns had taken precedence. With the ecosystem balanced and Algodova’s world power unquestioned, scientists across the globe were looking upward and outward. Space craft propulsions were catching up with the military tech.

She set down the bag that held Keeta and stepped to the hall cabinet to retrieve her sketch pad, the visual record of her dreams.

Her reflection taunted her from the mirror on the wall. This face, this age. And once, in the very outfit she wore today.

“No!” Her fingers gripped the paperweight resting on top of the cabinet and slammed the stone into the glass.

The mirror shattered into a web of violet eyes. Talia yelped and dropped the offensive rock. Her mother’s mirror. She gingerly touched the wood frame. None of the glass had fallen to the table.

“I’ve finally become her. Mom, I don’t want to die.” The whisper drifted down the hall.

Then don’t
. The trees broke into her thoughts and sent a wave of strength to her from outside.

Don’t die. Great. They made it sound simple.

The trees sent a rumble of amusement to her. In spite of everything, their optimistic joy lightened her mood.

Squaring her shoulders, Talia slipped the sketchbook into her bag and made sure Keeta was comfortable in his pocket. She pulled the sunglasses from the top of her head and left the house.

Talia’s home sat on the western edge of the city of Gneledar in the protected lands on the side of a mountain. The trees formed a comfortable barrier between her and the scurrying people; but she was close enough that the city noises mingled with the rustling leaves, and the hum of aeroflyers thrummed beneath every bird’s song.

She took the dreaded step through the dense clump of bushes her father had pruned into an archway. He had tried to convince her that the world beyond the grove was glorious and magical. How could she tell him it never would be for her?

The magic was inside, and although she never let it slip in public, the superstitious people of Gneledar avoided her because they feared its possibility.

On the other side of the arch, columns of skyscrapers filled the horizon. In a way, they arranged themselves as organically as the trees. Talia walked down the hill and into the city.

The skylanes were crowded with aeroflyers, while the pedestrian traffic on the ground zipways moved at a more relaxed pace. Talia avoided the moving sidewalks and walked down the middle of the street.

The station attendant jumped when she stepped up to the ticket window, then he stared at the counter. She wore sunglasses, what else did he want?

Talia fought to keep her voice normal despite her clenched teeth. “Hello, Jaysen. I’m here to pick up a ticket to Joharadin.”

“Yes, Miss Zaryn. Uh, the tram to Joharadin is a few minutes late. Feel free to wait outside on the platform.” He slid the ticket across the counter without lifting his eyes to her face.

Talia cringed at the effort he took to make sure their fingers never touched. “It was on time when I checked,” she said.

“Things happen. It’ll be here in another minute or two.”

“Fine. I heard you married Bettany, congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He turned to some paperwork, effectively dismissing her—another person that preferred to behave like a stranger.

Outside the building several people glanced in her direction before moving to the other side of the platform. A knot formed in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her shoulders tensed. Stepping away from the building, she edged toward the rails, keeping her eyes forward.

The muted conversations continued and the weight of the stares burned into Talia’s back. Her fists clenched and she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her hill, her trees. The buildings blocked the view but their presence weighed heavily on her mind.

I could stay. Continue my work on the nets until the Royalists came for me.
Would they really come for her?

If she stayed, she might escape the death she envisioned in her dreams.

A bell dinged overhead followed by the automated message, “Tram fifty-two approaching. Please step behind the yellow line.”

A whoosh of air shook strands of hair loose from the knot at the base of her neck, as the tram slid into the station. Talia’s reflection flickered past. Even in the swift moving windows, she stood out from the crowd, standing inches taller than other women. Her hair shimmered soft brown with gold and copper highlights. Compared to the mono-ethnic brown-haired, brown-eyed crowd she blazed with color.

People poured out of the open doors and shied away from the woman in dark sunglasses. Superstition and fear, that’s what it boiled down to. Not a single person smiled or greeted her as they passed.

What do they want from me? Even if I dyed my hair to blend in, I refuse to wear contacts to hide my eyes
.

People could look past the hair, but not the eyes.

Under the sunglasses, they sparkled with the same shades of violet as the amethyst pendant. It had been a gift from her mother.

She touched its reassuring warmth with her fingertips and stood straighter. Just because she fell in the two percent of Sendekians with variant eye color did not mean she was cursed.

The people of Gneledar were afraid of her because a boy with similar eyes had changed the course of the river three hundred years ago. He had magic like Talia, but he didn’t keep it hidden. He should have.

Talia lifted her chin.
I don’t need their acceptance or companionship.

As if to prove her wrong, a beautiful woman stepped off the tram and rushed to a man waiting for her. He touched her face tenderly, his fingers sliding down her cheek before resting at the nape of her neck. She smiled at him and talked so fast that he kissed her mid-word.

Their embrace tugged uncomfortably at Talia’s heart. Her skin tingled to know what such intimacy felt like. She turned away and walked to the porter.

“May I board now?” Her voice came out harsher than she intended.

He jumped at the sound, and when he recognized Talia, his face tightened and paled. Talia clenched her jaw. Why couldn’t they treat her like any other traveler? Not once had she given them any reason to be afraid of her.

“How long will you be away, Miss Zaryn?” He trembled at the effort of talking to her.

“I don’t know, several months at least.”

He actually sighed in relief. “Travel well.”

“Thanks,” Talia mumbled and stepped aboard the tram.

She sat down at the back of the car, closed her eyes, and waited to feel the tram move her away from the place she called home.

“We’re working on it. I think the moon request is a decoy. There’s no way they have the ability to get there, much less settle it.” Landry balled up the shredded napkins and stuffed them in an empty glass.

Stefan leaned back in his chair and observed the city skyline as the breeze played with his brown hair.

“That’s why I need you at the SEF meeting. At my request, they’re preparing a report for you and Colonel Rankin on the viability of settling the moons. Hopefully, they’ll shed some light into the Signum’s choice of Cadmus, and it will give you an opportunity to see if the leak is with them.”

“With the SEF’s help we could maroon the Signum on Daedalus.”

“Not funny, Landry.”

“Hey, you want me to lighten up and then you can’t appreciate my attempt at humor?” Landry’s face brightened as the smile spread.

“I didn’t think you had any humor in you.”

“Well, I was sort of serious. Anyway, I’ll go with Rankin. What do you need me to do specifically?”

“Rankin is a great military leader, but he doesn’t read people well. I need you to use your gift to get a feel for the key players.”

“No problem.” Landry winked at Stefan, reached over and took his last piece of sausage.

“I hate to ask this while you’re eating my breakfast, but how is the search for the Signum base going?” Stefan lowered his eyes to avoid the flash of anger on Landry’s face.

Landry swallowed the bite in his mouth and tossed the half-eaten sausage back onto the plate. His eyes darkened and his lips pressed into a tight line.

“I haven’t had any luck. My gift is useless without someone to question,” Landry said.

Stefan pushed his plate away. “You know, Werner can’t hide forever.”

“No, he can’t. He’ll pay for my father’s death. If there’s a Signum agent at the SEF, he won’t get past me.”

After hours of reading on the tram, Talia put her computer away and stretched her legs. She had avoided looking out the windows or thinking about her destination; now within minutes of Joharadin she couldn’t resist.

Years had passed since her one and only visit to the capital. Her mother had planned a trip to see the palace, but they never made it past the station. Only eight years old, the sight of the city had turned Talia into a shaking heap of tears. Somehow her mother made out the word Scalies through the sobs and they got on the next tram home.

Talia never went back. Until now. She gripped the armrests on the seat and swallowed the lump in her throat.

She shifted her gaze to the windows. The protected lands had given way to housing communities. Within minutes, the scene changed to views of commercial and industrial sections on the outskirts of the city proper. The speed of the landscape passing by made Talia dizzy, and she focused on the inside of the tramcar.

The tram slowed and climbed a low hill. At the top of the small crest, Talia ventured another look toward the city growing up from the horizon. It approached fast, and as it came into focus, her hands shook.

The city of her nightmares loomed before her. Real. Solid. Full of people. People that would die. After twenty-eight years of dreams, Talia Zaryn approached her destiny by tram once more. Her hands tingled and her vision darkened. She reached for a hand to hold and came away empty.

Jaron closed the door to his small apartment and let the disguise known by the name Talon melt away. He relaxed his mind. It took more energy each time he sustained the shape shift.