Elwen darted around a semi, and watched for the turn off to Lewisham High Street. Hitting the gas he floored it towards the exit, cutting off a Dodge Caravan in the process. He flipped around the corner and sped down Lewisham High, his eyes scanning the boulevards dotted with oak trees and short black fences. As he neared the turn off for the hospital, he slowed. A car behind him honked and passed. Elwen made a right, into the compound of University Hospital, brown buildings with triangle roofs and turrets surrounding him.
The Mini rumbled over speed bumps as Elwen searched the grassy patches beside each of the buildings. He turned left with the road, and viewed the cul-de-sac at the end. If Krishani wasn’t here he’d have to double back and try another hospital. Nervousness crept into him. Darkesh couldn’t know about this. He couldn’t fathom what the Prince of Darkness would do if he found his champion Vulture shirking his eternal duties. At the same time he had to keep Krishani away from Gemma and Kazazar who no doubt would have a lot of things to say about Elwen’s willingness to help the former Ferryman.
It wasn’t necessarily a choice, but Elwen felt as guilty about the past as Krishani did. What Kaliel had sentenced them to … Krishani had suffered the worst. Elwen failed Krishani as a mentor and disregarded him in his time of need. He should have been more forceful, locked Krishani in solitary confinement, and stopped him from finding the other Flames. If he had, Tor might be alive and the Lands of Men might still exist. Earth might have been a better place.
He squinted, seeing someone near a patch of evergreens and big round bushes. He paused, pulling the Mini to the curb and rolling down the window. A young boy, maybe eight years old, emerged from the bushes, clutching a teddy bear. Jet-black hair, striking blue eyes and chapped white lips greeted Elwen with a silent hello as he approached the Mini, his feet bowing inwards like he was a penguin.
“Terminal ward?” Elwen asked when Krishani was near enough to hear him.
The boy bit his lip and nodded, gesturing to the back seat. “Get me out of here,” Krishani said; his voice paper thin and scratchy. His eyes look desperate and frightened, like a tiny animal. This wasn’t like the boy Elwen knew so different that something in him snapped.
Elwen’s pulse skyrocketed as he unlocked the doors and slid out, folding the seat forward to allow Krishani into the back. The boy shuffled across the sidewalk with bare feet, shivering at the cool August air. Elwen slammed the seat back and ducked into the car, pulling the door closed behind him.
“I hope you don’t get caught,” Elwen muttered as he pulled up to the cul-de-sac and rounded it, the hospital grounds surprisingly empty at 2:00 am He rumbled down the street, doing forty instead of twenty and rounded the sharp turn at the end of the street. He glanced at the rearview, Krishani clenching and unclenching his fists, his jaw set in a tight line.
“Darkesh won’t …”
Elwen grimaced, the familiarity of what Krishani had become radiating through his decaying form. “I meant the bobbies.” Elwen didn’t relish the idea of kidnapping a young boy but Krishani devoured the soul and if he didn’t take care of him, another body would end up in the ground, another family would grieve, and Elwen would feel slightly responsible for what he’d never been able to do: control Krishani.
“They’re only human, I can handle them,” Krishani seethed and for an eight-year-old boy he seemed vicious.
Elwen glanced at the rearview again, meeting Krishani’s electric blue eyes and pale face. “They have guns, we need to be careful.” Elwen pulled onto Lewisham High, heading back to the apartment but stopped, smiling at his own stupidity. The place would be swarming with the very thing he wanted to avoid.
Krishani looked defeated, twisting his small hands in his lap, the teddy bear against his polka dot clad thigh. “Then go somewhere safe.” He went back to gritting his teeth and picking at his cuticles.
Elwen sighed. He turned and began driving north. “We’ll need to pick up a few things,” he said absently as he thought about northern England and the residence he abandoned in the eighteenth century. The mansion was still there, and hopefully the rumors about it being haunted remained. He could settle there until he figured out what to do. He glanced at Krishani through the rearview, curiosity in his bones. “Why are you doing this?”
Krishani let out a long sigh, his head drooping forward. “I wanted to know what it’s like to be young again.” He sounded sarcastic. Elwen’s eyes tightened, not in the mood for games. “I need to find someone,” Krishani amended.
Elwen smirked. “That’s going to be tough with the illness. How long do you have?”
Krishani fidgeted, looking out the window. “It’s not about how long I have; it’s how long I need.”
“How long do you need?”
“Forever.”
Elwen laughed. “You won’t get that.”
“I’ll settle for as long as humanly possible.”
Elwen smiled, catching the irony. He set his hands on the steering wheel and continued around the outskirts of London. He needed to stop by an old friend for clothing and food, and head to the mansion in Leeds. The Bobbies wouldn’t look far for the boy and nobody would notice him missing until it was already too late to find him. Elwen had no idea what else Krishani had planned but Elwen would try.
***
Chapter 5
Forest Fire
Maeva woke to the sound of water crashing into a stream—again. She pushed pillows aside and groaned, the comforting dream fading away. It never changed: the path through the forest, rocks, and waterfalls. Her heart hammered as she moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black shorts and camisole. Her clock read 6:00 am Even though it was early she was wide-awake, remnants of the crashing water turning to a drizzle in the back of her mind. She shed the nightgown and dressed, grabbed her pre-packed survival kit her father Gord forced her to take on all her canoe trips. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror but really, she was going to be in the forest until sunset, she wasn’t going to encounter anything but bugs, squirrels, and maybe a rabbit.
There was nothing new about her appearance. Hazel eyes, pale skin, button nose, oval shaped face framed by night black curls. She drew her hair into a ponytail, winding the length of it into a bun, securing it with a scrunchie. She glanced at the twin bed against the wall and smoothed out the fluffy white comforter. The rest of her room was pretty plain. A rickety wooden dresser sat across from the bed, the bottom left shelf forever falling out when she opened it. She used that drawer for stories and poetry, and anything else she didn’t want her mom to find, like the deck of tarot cards she’d bought from the bookstore downtown. Her clothes overflowed on a chair next to the dresser. Her room didn’t have a desk or computer, but her mom had one upstairs in the living room. She unfortunately had to share it with her brother, Scott.
She slung the backpack over her shoulder and took the steps two at a time, emerging in the kitchen. She grabbed a water bottle from the freezer, and glanced at her mom, Grace, sitting at the table staring off into space, cigarette in hand, ashtray below. Ringlets of smoke fogged the air. She glanced at Maeva, a distant look on her face, which turned sharp the moment she recognized her.
“You’re not going to find it you know,” she said, voice flat.
Maeva tucked her head, trying to avoid her mother and moved around the big oak table to where her converse sneakers were. She pulled them on and tied the laces. “I’ll stop looking when school starts again.” She tried to sound cheerful.
Grace tapped her cigarette on the side of the ashtray. Maeva eyed the floral patterned nightgown covering her mother from foot to neck, something she’d learned from her good Christian upbringing. “For god’s sake, Maeva, you’re seventeen. You think you’d given up already,” Grace rasped.
Maeva grabbed her black and yellow lifejacket off the rack behind the door, cringing. Her mother wasn’t compassionate, supportive, or even friendly. The past three summers Maeva spent most of her time with her dad, combing Lake of the Woods, certain she’d find what she had been dreaming about for as long as she could remember. She tried not to look pained when she faced her mother, but there was a constricted feeling in her throat. She focused on her breathing, attempting to ease the anxiety. The last thing she needed was a repeat of the conversation about group therapy. She didn’t need therapy she needed … something else, but she wasn’t sure what. “I need to …” her voice cracked and tears threatened to erupt. If she didn’t leave now she was going to cry.
“I expect you home for lunch.” Grace knew her too well, knew when she was about to fall apart but unlike most parents Grace didn’t give up, she let the venom fall from her lips no matter what state Maeva was in.
Maeva bit her bottom lip and wrenched the back door open, unable to speak as she fled down the two steps into the backyard. She crossed the lot in a few long strides, avoiding the debris Scott hadn’t bothered to clean up. Evergreens bordered their part of Goat Island, leaving enough room for a pier to stretch from the grassy shore. The sky was alight with the yellowish glow of dawn. She hopped onto the planks carefully and walked to her canoe. It took a year of working at Red Boot Restaurant for her to make enough to pay for half of her own canoe: a brand new WindRiver, three seats, and red exterior. She loved it as much as she loved canoeing. It was in part a gift because her dad didn’t want to take her across the mainland everyday so she could get to school. It was fine when she was in elementary and they lived on Valley. Her mom walked her to school back then, but since they moved to the island when she was twelve, getting to and from anywhere in Kenora had become a hassle. It’s not like they built a bridge to every tiny island in the middle of Lake of the Woods. Sure, St. Mary’s Harbor was relatively close by comparison to some of the other islands, but spring and fall were the worst.
She threw her backpack into the canoe and put on her lifejacket, zipping it up. She walked to the edge of the pier and untied the boat from its hook. She doubled back and stepped gingerly into the canoe. Sitting on the middle bench she grabbed the paddle from the bottom of the boat. The catalogue said it was one of the best, made from cherry and ash trees. It wasn’t heavy and all the rowing gave her arms a slightly muscular look. It was probably the only part of her that was athletic. The rest of her was scant, flimsy legs and a cinched torso. She pushed away from the pier, her mind circling the thing she had been trying to find for the past three years.
Gord gave up this summer because of her mother. Grace didn’t want Gord encouraging her, and so Gord, being the pushover father he was, listened. The only good thing, Gord trusted her enough to go by herself, so the search wasn’t over, but the afternoons of sandwiches and scavenging and long conversations were. She missed spending time with him, especially since he spent most of his time at the factory.
The canoe glided seamlessly through the glassy lake. Everything reflected off the water, trees, sky, even the last few stars. She moved the canoe south, searching the shores for a path she hadn’t trekked before. She loved Lake of the Woods for its quiet beauty. She stopped dipping the paddle in the water and secured it in the plastic holder. Unzipping her backpack, she pulled out her iPhone, taking it out of its waterproof case and flipping to the iPod app. She didn’t want loud music but something to cut through the sound of nothing was better than listening to the birds and wind. Music calmed her in ways nothing else could.
She flipped to an Adele song, letting the sound fill the empty air. She quickly flipped to her compass app to make sure she was on the right path and put the iPhone back into the case, music streaming from it. The canoe drifted to the left, nearing the banks. She picked up the paddle and switched sides, carefully moving it away from the winding shoreline.
Maeva sighed as she dunked the paddle in the water again, pushing as hard as she could, her limbs getting tired. She locked the paddle on the holder and stared at the sky. It felt more like home in the forest and on the lake than it did in her stuffy house; or in the brick-walled classrooms at school. She preferred sunshine and wide-open spaces. She yawned, and grabbed the water bottle, popping the top and taking a long sip of whatever had melted. The icy water trickled down her throat and she shivered. Her eyes went to the sky as a flock of geese formed an uneven V shape.
Sometimes she wished she could be like them. They weren’t tied to one place but were tied to each other and that was all that mattered. She might have stayed in one spot her whole life but she didn’t feel tied to the people at all. The only thing she felt any affinity to was the forest. Most people she knew weren’t nearly as adventurous as she was. They’d wait for guided school tours and stick to campsites scattered across the area. Sure, there were plenty of summer camps, cabins, and resorts, but there were also secluded hamlets, glorious summits and—if she could ever find one—waterfalls.
The canoe drifted nearer to a part of the shoreline that jutted outwards like a scraggly finger and Maeva stopped. She squinted at the rocks. It was an area her dad passed several times, saying there was nothing there but a dead end. She frowned, reaching for the paddle, ready to scoot around the outcropping of rock and continue further south when she saw something. She stopped, dipping her paddle into the water to slow the canoe. The last thing she needed was to scrape it against the rocks. The canoe slid from the shore for a second before Maeva caught sight of it. An owl perched in the branches of a sloping birch tree, almost completely camouflaged by dark green leaves. She scurried to the shore, anxious to get a better look at the majestic bird when it absconded the branch, slapping its brownish red wings against the wind. Her chest fell as she sighed. If there was one thing she hated about the forest it was timid animals. She glanced at the shore realizing too late she was docking against the rocks and stuck her paddle in just in time to save her canoe. Carefully she slowed, pulling the canoe closer until she safely hopped out and tie the boat ashore.
She angled herself so her foot was firmly on the rock and grabbed a skinny branch to brace herself as she stepped out of the canoe. She grabbed the rope and wound it around a single tree on the edge of the point. Looking behind her at the branches where the owl had sat, she smiled. This part of the forest wasn’t the same as it used to be. Sure, the point jutted out from the rest of the land and there was a large sapling spreading its branches everywhere on the edge of the point, but the trail obscured by fallen trees last summer was clear.
Maeva looked back at the canoe, perched solidly against the shore and made up her mind. Grabbing her backpack she took the gradual incline into the forest.
The path wasn’t straight and it wasn’t completely clear. She stepped over logs pressed against the ground, grass growing around them. She skipped over big rocks protruding from soil, common for the area. One part of the path was a giant mud puddle and she had to detour slightly to avoid stepping in it. Her legs brushed along foliage at her feet, branches nipping at the tight bun she fixed her hair in. She smelled the lake and heard waves lapping softly against the shore. She didn’t dare peek through the trees; she didn’t want to know how high she was until she had to.
Afternoon appeared. She recognized it by the position of the sun in the sky, though she only saw it through thin strips of sky between leaves. Some of them were already yellowing in preparation for autumn, her favorite season. She stopped to take another sip of water, noticing the bottle was almost empty. It was time to go home. Her stomach rumbled but she already ate a granola bar and wanted to save the rest. The survival kit was meant for survival not for snacking. As far as she could tell there was no emergency.
She climbed, her hands gripping large rocks as mud and grass disappeared. She pulled herself over one last boulder, landing on a stony plateau. On her left the trees continued to populate the forest, but they were thick, no way to forge a path through them. On her right they broke, showing off a magnificent blue sky, occupied by puffy white clouds. Maeva neared the edge, her breath catching in her throat. She glanced down, a straight cliff on the opposite edge of the curved rock, the lake lapping against the shore. She laughed, tilting her head to the sky and spreading her arms wide.
She dropped the pack and circled, pulling out her iPhone and clicking through the songs again. Adele was one of her favorites, but there were others she’d considered fantastic. Her thumb flicked over a song and she stopped, pressing down. The guitar lilted through the speakers and she straightened her spine, pressing her feet into the rock. She took a deep breath and as Adele hit the first notes of the song so did she. Her voice skipped over notes, in tune with Adele. She took another breath at the break and continued, turning in slow circles, fingers stretching out, wind trickling through spaces between them. She reached the bridge, punctuating notes with emotion.
She lost her breath at the end of the verse and stumbled over the next two lines, picking it up again towards the end. She closed her eyes and looked at the horizon, moving as close to the ledge as she dared. She hunched her knees to her chest and let out a long breath, willing herself not to breakdown. Her parents weren’t bad people, but they didn’t understand her and they didn’t try. Half the time she was shoved aside, ignored or overshadowed by her all-star brother. The rest of the time they scrutinized everything about her; mannerisms, schoolwork, hobbies, dreams. She desperately wanted to leave Kenora and go to Toronto’s School of Music but they were saving everything to pay for Scott’s tuition, despite the fact he was likely to get a full scholarship playing hockey.
She hugged her knees tighter and traced the patterns of clouds with her eyes. She tried so hard to impress them, but nothing was ever enough. They didn’t see her as anything more than a burden, another mouth to feed, clothe and shelter. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest tightening, making her feel lightheaded. She shook away the feeling, knowing somehow she’d escape Kenora and find the paradise she had been seeking since she was old enough to know the difference between ice cream from the store and ice cream from the ice cream truck. Some things couldn’t be replaced by no-name brands and cheap imitations.
She stood and brushed her butt off, shoving her hands into her pockets. Senior year would start soon, which meant seeing the people she had avoided all summer. Sure, they came to Red Boot all the time but she was a server, and if she was lucky, they’d tip her. The only person she kept in contact with was Stephanie, partially because they worked together and partially because Stephanie was one of the only people who hadn’t labeled Maeva a freak.
She closed her eyes, feeling another song in the back of her throat. She didn’t need the song playing to know the lyrics, she began singing, feeling heavier with every note she sang.
She tripped, almost lost her balance, the sound dying in her throat. She frantically swayed on her heels and pulled herself upright, walking over to her backpack and bending over to get another granola bar. She paused, hearing the distinct sound of footsteps behind her and whipped around. Nobody was there. Curiously she tarried down the rocks, careful not to lose her balance, but as far as her eyes could see, the forest was empty. She turned back to the rocks, intending to get her backpack and leave when she heard a rustling sound between the trees. She looked again but there weren’t even squirrels on the path. Sighing, she climbed the rocks, noticing shadows and thick dark clouds roiling over the horizon. She pulled herself over the last rock and grabbed her iPhone, hitting the weather app. The forecast took a minute to load, but she jumped as something behind her snapped and cracked, lightning lighting up the sky in jagged purple lines.