KORVO:
Korvo laid the cards one by one onto the ragged metal edge that made up the roof of the Refuge. Even though the darkness felt like the sun was never going to return, Kor knew what was on the cards without seeing them. He could feel their stories rush up through his fingers and paint a tapestry across the night sky. Destinies that etched themselves one shuffle at a time.
Destinies that all looked the same. He sighed, gathering the cards into a pile with one hand. Kor scratched at his neck before putting the cards back into the leather pouch on his hip. The cards had been showing him a vague darkness that was coming, but the details were always too fuzzy.
Kor looked down at his right hand and stretched his fingers. Ever since he had left his home in Hadran he had a harder time understanding the messages the cards were giving. It was like things were getting lost in translation, like wool was coating the mouth of the fates, leaving their hints and headlines muffled. He massaged the bumps disfiguring his right hand. Acid could do that to a person. Acid could fray the connections. It left a permanent scar inside and out.
“Sitting up here all by yourself?” Aer pulled herself up the last rung of the rusted metal ladder that brought her to the edge of the roof.
“Is anyone besides you going to be stupid enough to come up here with me?” Kor took in the nightly dazzlement of color forced on her by the nightclub she sang for down the road. Bright red lips and painted cheeks masked her harsh features from the random passer-by, but Korvo knew her beyond the makeup. She was beautiful in the way that a sword is beautiful. She had purpose and severity. The club tried to hold her back with feathers and beads, but she was a spring ready for action. She was also his oldest friend. And sometimes, more.
“For a guy who always complains of the cold, you could find somewhere a little more protected from the elements,” she said.
Kor just smiled and tapped his olive knuckles against the metal pipes around him. The smoke from the furnace below wafted in ripples to his touch.
“Plenty warm,” he said; then he sighed, looking down at the papers Aer had brought him. He shifted through them without letting his eyes read anything of importance. The stacks of papers, the information from his sources, were only getting smaller every day. And just like the cards, he knew what they said without looking.
Nothing good.
“I think even if you were the richest person in all of Kaybrum, you would still sit up here.” Aer drew her long, slim legs close to her body.
“But, at least, I’d own the building.” The weight of what the building held forced its way into the ease of their conversation. Below them lay the prison where they ‘re-educated’ young people with magic. Kept them from being nuisances to the public. Helped them find the ‘right way.’
A chill ripped through Kor. He shifted so his back was directly against the smokestack. It wasn’t hot enough to burn, but the heat did its best to penetrate deep into his bones. He still shivered.
“Admit you’re cold,” Aer said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her warmth melted into him in a way that the smokestack’s could not.
“It’s only because you bring all your silly winds with you,” Kor said, settling the papers in front of him with a rock so they wouldn’t blow away. The winds were as much a part of Aer as his cards were to him. He could not separate her from them if he tried.
“You know I can’t help that.”
Magic trickled through them, connecting them to the elements of the universe. Every Magic’s connection was unique, but it was part of them, just as much as breathing.
“Besides, I don’t hear you complaining about the winds when they bring you information.” Aer wiped the back of her hand across her lips, streaking lipstick across her face. The gray air made her face look haunted.
“Did they?” Kor asked, looking away from her.
“Perhaps.” She plucked a feather from her hair and let it drop off the side of the building. Kor watched it float until it had been lost in the darkness of the morning.
“Bryce and Merin are already dealing with it,” Aer said, picking another small feather apart.
“You sent Bryce and Merin without asking me?”
“Do I need to ask your permission?” Her tone was playful, but her eyes missed the sense of humor. Aer was always on edge. He knew better than to remind her that he was the leader of their rebellion. It would only end badly for him.
“Do you think they can handle it?” Kor asked finally. “Alone, I mean.”
“They’re not little kids anymore, Kor. You were doing much more dangerous things when you were their age.” Aer finally let the skeleton of the feather drop. Kor didn’t bother to watch that one. He rubbed his hand instead, pulling it into his lap.
“I just want—” he started. His eyes caught the crack of sunshine barely beginning to crest the walls of the city.
“To protect them. I know.” Aer laid her long, thin fingers on Kor’s shoulder again. He reached up and brushed them with his fingertips. Even the feeling of her skin felt muffled. He wondered for a minute what it would be like to hold her with both his hands at full capacity.
“Bryce has had too many close encounters with the Watchers lately. If he gets in another fight, he’s going to get thrown into the Refuge again,” Kor said heavily.
“Risks have to be taken in order for us to gain any sort of ground in this fight. You know that more than any of us.”
Kor looked up at the sky to ignore the clear stare Aer had given his hand.
It had been five years, but he still wasn’t used to it. Still wasn’t used to the stares. Still wasn’t used to the mumbled reading of the cards. Still wasn’t used to not being able to clearly make out the Raven: the mark that all Magics were forced to wear. It was as if something that was so much a part of his existence had been wiped out. Like he would never be whole.
Magic wasn’t illegal in the Northern Territory like it was in his homeland, Hadran, but it still wasn’t accepted, especially in Kaybrum, the capital city. And they all, as soon as their powers manifested, were branded. The Raven brand, and any bogus reason, was enough for the Watchers to pull any child with magic from the street and throw them into the Refuge. Korvo, at seventeen, had a running count of how many days were left until he could never be placed in that putrid place. Labor camps, exile, those were more pleasant options.
“Will you do a reading for me?” Aer asked, holding his cards in her hand. He had been too lost in thought to notice her grab them.
Kor grasped for them, but she pulled them away letting the cards slide into her palm. She shuffled them slowly, and Kor sat back and watched the mix of the cards creating and dismantling destinies in front of him.
“Just a short one,” he said, finally taking the cards. He tapped the base of his hand on the deck and split it one final time, stacking the two pieces together in reverse order. Aer nodded and sat back.
“Past,” he said, drawing a single card from the top of the deck. The pictures began to form inside his mind as soon as he touched the card. Aer’s past was as dark as ever. He caught snippets of things he knew: the nightclub where she worked, the Refuge, a dark alleyway, the feeling of blood slowing to a sludge from anger. What it would look like without his mangled right hand, he couldn’t know. The hand had been that way since before he came to Kaybrum and met Aer.
Aer didn’t ask him to elaborate on the past. For them, it was often easier to leave things unsaid. Nothing good came from reliving it.
“Present,” he said before reaching for the next card. Aer crossed her arms in front of her like she was waiting for something. Kor hesitated. She gestured for him to get to it already. He touched the card. Immediately, a jolt of energy buzzed up through his arm and bounced in lightning streaks through his mind.
He flipped the card over and stared intently at the image before him. Three long swords were plunged into the breast of a bird, its wings outstretched, its head turned away as if looking at the storm raging in the background. The three of swords: upheaval.
“You feel them, right?” Aer smirked, leaning her back against the smokestack.
“And you sent Bryce to deal with this?” Kor said. His jaw hung for a moment, having a hard time connecting with the rest of his mouth.
“And Merin,” she said. She looked at her reflection in the shiniest pipe near them and rubbed at the make-up on her face.
“The wind told you about whoever this is, right? Not one of our informants? We’re the only ones who know about it?” Kor glanced up and down the streets of Kaybrum. With the intensity of the cards, he couldn’t trust this to just anyone.
“The wind loves to find me all kinds of lost things. Even if they don’t know they’re lost.”
“I’m not sure I even know what they’ve found, yet. And it’s better we figure it out before someone else gets to them.”
“Keeping secrets from people? That doesn’t sound like you. Unless you saw something in the cards,” Aer trailed off.
“It’s not a secret,” Kor said. He looked down at the card again. “Just a precaution.”
Aer nodded.
Kor pulled his knees to his chest, a move he only would have done alone or with Aer. But he needed to pull everything in and think. The cards had felt alive again. They had the same electric tang they’d had before his readings became fuzzy. There was no doubt that whatever they were looking for reminded him of Hadran: beautiful, and hiding a deadly secret.
“But whoever they are, they’re powerful. And right now, we need something to tip the cards in our favor,” Aer said flicking the fluttering pages of the documents she had brought him. Kor nodded without really hearing her. He was still lost in his thoughts.
They sat in silence a moment before he realized he wasn’t finished. He’d forgotten to pull the last card. The future had always been hard to interpret even before acid had mangled the flesh on his hand. He flipped the card over immediately to let the image help him figure out the snippets and impressions of time that came with them. Kor paused and looked at the card in front of him. He let his fingers walk over the black eyes of the raven scratched deeply into the card.
“What do you see?” Aer asked.
Kor stared down at the raven, trying to figure out a way to explain the impending doom the cards had been hinting at all night. Aer began singing a song under her breath. It filled Kor with the feeling of warm water and boats coming in from the harbor even though they were a hundred miles from the coast. It made him break eye contact with the paper raven and bring his focus back onto the wispy blonde near him.
“Bad news?” she asked in between verses of the song. The words of the melody were lost to Kor, who couldn’t understand the language of the winds.
“Everything has been turning up the same,” Kor shook his head and threw the cards back into their pouch without saying anything more. The sun now shone over the city walls and the stirrings of the street below them were beginning. The two sat in silence for a minute, watching the city of Kaybrum wake up to another day of living in the shadow of the Refuge.
AER:
Aer took a deep breath and began to sing softly again. She shuffled the papers she had brought in time to the melody. Kor raised his eyebrow, but he didn’t move yet. She could wait him out. She watched as he thought. He was formulating plans, odds, and strategies. She let him. His yellow-green eyes were looking through the world to the future, a place she could only see with his help. The cards had been bothering him, but she knew better than to pry. They had long learned to let each other’s demons go.
“You know,” she said when his face relaxed and she could tell he had finished thinking, “I don’t need the cards to know that things are changing.”
“The winds are telling you the future now?” Kor reached up to smooth a piece of hair out of her face. She pushed him away. He let his head thump against the metal pipe and closed his eyes. Aer took the opportunity to look at him in the early sunlight. His forehead was creased and furrowed. Unease settled on his olive skin like a dark shadow. It made him look older when he led meetings. But up here, with only her, the deep-set frown just made him look worried. In front of the people, he was charismatic, sure, undaunted. But here, she could see the last few months had taken their toll.
“No. I’m actually reading the information Bethlem has gotten us.” She thrust the papers in front of him again. Kor’s brow furrowed deeper as he slowly read through the information. She knew it wasn’t much. Mostly an increase in arrests for Magics.
“This many?” Korvo sighed rubbing at his temples.
“If you can believe the reports,” she said.
“The horrible thing is, I do believe them, and I’m not even surprised,” Kor said.
“Aren’t you talking to the Council today, anyway?” Aer tried to get Kor back to sounding like his normal optimistic self.
“To try to get the school approved. But at this rate there won’t be anyone left to teach.”
Kor took a deep breath. And then another. He stood. His back straightened, his yellow-green eyes focused, and all the weight of the world carried by his seventeen years settled on his shoulders.
Something needed to change. Quickly.
When the wind had come and whispered to her just as the sun was dipping behind the wall that surrounded the city, telling her that something big and new and powerful had come, she hoped it would be the change they needed to finally make a difference for Magics. They needed something.
The wind whispered about it in excited, overlapping voices in her ears, and it felt like hope.
But she couldn’t just bring him news from the winds. Kor didn’t always trust it. Like a new puppy tripping over its legs and entranced by the smallest thing, the wind could get distracted. This news may be days, weeks, years old. But if she could explain the words of the wind to Kor, he might not give her that slight look of hesitation every time it brought her the news of the world. He would feel their urgency this time. He would know something was about to change.
KORVO:
“Think Bryce and Merin will be okay?” Kor asked more to himself than Aer.
“Best to wait for Bryce somewhere that’s a little closer to the ground if you want to find out.” Aer rose slightly and straightened the long, tan skirt and the collar of her jacket, revealing a slim strip of pale skin at the base of her neck. There was a jagged black mark there, the same one found amid all of the acid burns on his right hand. The Raven’s head that marked them for what they were. Magic. Hated and hunted. Kor fought the need to reach out and touch it.
The climb down from the top of the Refuge was always treacherous. Harsh winters and the public’s blind eye had not been kind to the metal sides of the building. They were streaked with rust and ragged in places, but Kor had been coming here long enough to know all the little places where his clothes or skin might catch on an edge. This was his thinking place; the place where he could see the rest of the city, where the plight of his people could not be any worse. It was where he came and practiced his pleas to the City Council, where he ran risk calculations he did not think would go well, and where he had met Aer.
“Someday they are going to just put you in the Refuge out of spite for being on their roof,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the street.
Kor smiled at Bryce.
“Good thing I’ll know about that someday before they do,” Kor said. He crossed the street and clasped hands with the younger boy.
“I thought you and Merin were supposed to be out looking,” Aer said, moving across the street to join them. Leave it to Aer to scold them.
“We are. Well, we were, but we hit a little snag.” Bryce leaned against the wall.
“Snag?” Kor asked.
“You guys always give us a sense of who you’re looking for. The wind talks to Aer, the cards talk to you, but my plants don’t pay any attention to the random passerby in the middle of the garden. And it turns out ‘interesting and warm’ doesn’t really get us that far.”
“I told you what the wind told me,” Aer huffed.
“But couldn’t they for once give us something concrete like hair color, body mass, birthmarks?” Bryce asked.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Aer teased.
Bryce stuck out his tongue. He traced his finger over the moss growing from the crack along the side of the building. A small smile crept over his face as Merin appeared with her hands full of warm pastries.
“We searched the Wall District,” Merin said. She handed out the food to the group. Kor took a bite and the flaky crust sat on his upper lip.
“We were about to go to the gardens,” Bryce explained, “but we got a little hungry and wanted to stop and see if the cards had anything else to say. Maybe something that’s at least a little useful.” His grey eyes accused Aer of being ridiculous. Aer turned away with a huff.
“This is someone totally new. Not someone from the city,” Kor said scratching the back of his head. That much had been clear, but the rest was like lightning. Quick to come to him, but just as quick to disappear.
“In a city of a half million people, that’s really going to cut it down,” Bryce said. He finished the last bite of his pastry and licked his fingertips.
“Can one of you come with us?” Merin handed another pastry to Bryce, who gobbled it up in three bites.
“Aer needs sleep,” Kor said, “and I need to go to the Council.” He paused, there was no need to worry them. “You’ll be fine.” He put his hand on Merin’s shoulder, and the girl sighed.
“Where do you want to meet?” Bryce asked.
“Bethlem’s at the usual time,” Kor said.
Bryce nodded, and he and Merin went down one side of the street. It would have been easier for them to meet back here, but he couldn’t convince Bryce to make it up the ladder. Aer thought he didn’t like being disconnected from the earth. Bryce’s powers, after all, came from nature and the top of the Refuge was the furthest from nature one could get. The tall roof might have allowed for quiet reflection, but it didn’t comfort the way nature did.
Still, Kor knew better. Bryce was afraid of the Refuge. He used his typical bravado to keep it at bay: bragging about his time, meeting in its shadow, ignoring the slight shudder in his voice when it suddenly came up in conversation. But Kor recognized the extra flick in his eyes when it was mentioned after dark. He had done a reading for Bryce more than once and felt the depth of the darkness and the haunt of the stale air recycled through a thousand breaths heavy with fear. It was through Bryce that Kor knew the Refuge, and it was through Bryce that Kor vowed he would end this treatment of kids like them.
With Bryce and Merin back to searching, Aer put a final, hesitant hand on Kor’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but with Aer, any semblance of touch was enough to give him strength. He turned and headed to his meeting with the Council. It wasn’t the first meeting. It wouldn’t be the last. But he had to keep trying.
BRYCE:
The ground clung to Bryce’s feet as he walked, causing him to have a lurching sort of swagger. It looked cool and confident, but it was merely a charade, a pure coincidence that the Earth just connected with him in the same way that plants obeyed what he wanted them to do. Merin happily sashayed beside him, keeping time with his slow and steady gait.
Bryce let his eyes sweep around them, his head on a swivel. He was looking for Watchers as much as he was for the person Aer had sent them to contact. Merin looked forward down the path.
“Merin,” he stepped up close to her and whispered in her ear, “we have company.” For a second, he considered scaling the tree to his left and getting out of the way. He was not known for keeping his cool with any of the Watchers in the city, and while he wasn’t afraid of a fight, he didn’t want Merin to see him get tossed in the Refuge. Merin winked. Bryce’s heart settled, but his fist didn’t unclench.
“Miss, is this Magic bothering you?” the Watcher asked. He straightened his dark blue uniform and let his hand linger on the baton at his waist.
“Bothering? He was helping me identify the foliage,” Merin said in a singsong voice Bryce knew was part of an act.
“Foliage?” the man asked. He walked in front of them, so he was staring directly at Bryce. “I thought it might be you, Segal.”
Bryce spat. He hated his last name. It just reminded him of the family that had abandoned him.
“Who else knows the difference between the different trees in this garden?” Bryce leaned against the trunk of the closest tree, grinning.
“Miss, I’d be careful with riffraff like this.” The officer pointedly ignored Bryce.
“But he seems so knowledgeable,” she cooed. The man inched closer.
Bryce felt his adrenaline spiking. He rolled his fingers in and out of a fist.
“He’s also very knowledgeable about the inside of the Refuge. Probably been up all night frequenting the Wall District doing who knows what,” the Watcher scoffed. Bryce could barely hear what the Watcher said with the blood pumping so loudly in his ears, but if he laid a hand on Merin there was no way Bryce could stand for it.
The Watcher brushed his hand across Merin’s cheek. Bryce moved toward the Watcher, his fist coming up, but Merin shot him a glance to stay still. The look in her blue eyes crushed any resistance he may have had. Bryce crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree, but he could still feel his blood rushing. The bark hardened beneath his back.
“Why don’t you let me escort you to…”
“I’ll be fine on my own, thank you,” Merin cut him off.
“But, Miss, I don’t think you realize the danger of hanging out with these Magics.”
“Yeah,” Bryce said. He refused to look at the officer. It would only make his blood boil more. “We’re all hardened criminals. You can tell just by looking at us.”
The Watcher glared and went back to Merin, leaning in close.
“The last two nights I’ve arrested at least five of these abominations. You wouldn’t believe how dirty one of them was. Worse than this riffraff,” he said, pointing at Bryce. “Looked like he’d slept in the streets his whole life. Looked a little like your friend Korvo, Segal.”
“Well, then I bet you’re tired and need to go home and sleep,” Merin said. Her tone turned a little too harsh. The officer straightened, and one of his hands returned to his club. Bryce bristled, putting a foot against the tree trunk, ready to push off and stop anything that might happen next. Better him than Merin.
Merin placed her hand on the Watcher, and Bryce saw the man’s eyes droop. There was no question Merin used the slightest trickle of her power to soothe him. The Watcher’s hand relaxed, and the man turned without saying anything and ambled away from them.
Bryce smiled. “That was new. You can make ‘em sleepy now?” Bryce asked, watching the dark uniform walk away from them without another thought.
“Something I’ve been working on. It’s for getting a patient to rest.”
Bryce laughed. Merin was always working on new ways to channel her powers. Hell, she had enough practice fixing him up after his fights.
“We’re just lucky that you don’t have the mark,” Bryce said. He reached down to fix the cuffs on his pant leg. There was no point in hiding what he was. Rolled up, his tattoo was completely visible. He wore his Raven’s head with a tinge of pride. Kor had taught him that.
Merin ignored his comment, pulling her sleeves all the way down to cover the bottom of her palms. Bryce didn’t know what to say to her. He never seemed to know what to say to her.
They walked through the gardens at a leisurely pace. Bryce tended to the plants and the trees as they went, picking off dead blooms and giving a little green energy to places where the wind had torn through tree branches. More than once he and Aer had argued about the wind.
“Do you think he’s really arrested that many people?” Merin asked, leaning down to smell some of the only flowers still in bloom during the winter months.
“Probably mostly just talk, but if the arrests really are picking up at this speed, Kor’s going to need to know.”
He picked at the edge of his thumbnail.
“Bryce…”
“Kor will keep us safe. He’s going to make a difference for all of us and he’s going to shut down the Refuge for good.” Bryce recited his mantra and took a deep breath. Merin didn’t say anything, just reached over and grabbed his hand for a second. He could feel the positive energy flooding into his veins. He hadn’t even realized he was that tense until the knots in his back began to relax.
“Do you really think whoever this is will be much harder to get on board than anyone else we’ve talked to?” Merin asked, twisting her curly chestnut hair back into the semblance of a loose braid on her shoulder.
“I think the powers that be,” Bryce raised his eyebrows and lifted his chin back toward the tower of the Refuge where Kor always stayed, “think this one is important.”
“Did Kor see anything else in the cards?” Merin let the tip of her braid tickle the underside of her chin. Bryce frowned.
“He hasn’t been seeing anything good lately.”
“That’s because he keeps having to look at your face all the time,” Merin teased. Bryce stuck his tongue out and slowly his lips turned back into an easy grin.
“Well, we can’t all be perfect like you.” He knew Merin would chase him for that comment. Merin didn’t have the mark of the Raven. Her parents had used their money and their connections to keep her safe. A lot of Magics didn’t like her for it. Not many Magics had parents around. If they were born to a non-magic family like Bryce had been, their families tended to rid themselves of the ‘problem’ as soon as they could. Bryce kept quiet as much as possible about her home life, just like he would keep any secret for Aer or Kor.
Especially Kor.
Since the day they met, Bryce would have followed Kor into a fire. Into hell. Into the Refuge.
Bryce had been thirteen when he made it to the city. He’d come from a small farming village a few hours away. After he was branded at ten, once his family could no longer deny what he was, his parents greeted him with side glances and whispered conversations. He endured three years of their silence. They didn’t kick him out; after all, his powers were useful on the farm, but they hardly talked to him at all. Bryce left in the middle of the night for the capital, where he could be lost in a sea of people. It was better for his parents to have a missing son than one to gossip about and use.
Kor had taught him how to not be afraid. Not to hide. To be someone.
And Kor was going to make it okay for Magics to be safe.
“Do you think,” Merin said, catching up to Bryce, “that maybe that creepy watcher arrested the person we’re looking for?”
“I guess it’s possible. We haven’t heard anything that would point us in the direction of a new Magic in town. Even in the Wall District they hadn’t heard anything, and Bethlem knows everyone.”
“Exactly, what if they got picked up last night before they found their way to someone who would help them? That jerk said one of them reminded him of Korvo. So maybe someone foreign.”
“They’re probably still being held at the field office. It takes a while to process the first time.” He remembered waiting in the cold, empty cell, waiting for what felt like hours without anyone explaining anything. He knew he was going to be put in the Refuge, but the anticipation worked on his nerves. Sometimes he still woke in a sweat dreaming about that first time.
“I guess we know where we’re going.” Merin turned on her heel and headed out of the garden. Bryce walked slowly behind her. The dirt stuck to his heels more than usual, making his legs feel about as heavy as his mind.
“How are we going to get in?” Merin asked.
“I figured I’d let you do all the talking.” Bryce tried to put some levity into his voice, but it just wasn’t there.
“I could say I’m there to see to his ailments. I’m sure he didn’t come away from a run-in with Watchers unscathed.”
“But then you’d reveal your powers,” Bryce said, snapping his head up and stopping her with his hand. “You’d be hated like the rest of us. Until the Refuge is destroyed, you need to keep a low profile.” His voice cracked a little. Merin pushed his hand off her shoulder gently.
“There are regular healers. I know how to dab a wound with a warm cloth just like anyone else in this city.”
“So how will you explain me?” he asked. “I am not letting you go in by yourself. We’re not even sure this person is the one Kor sent us to go get. And I am never leaving you alone with any creepy Watcher slime.”
“You can act as my hired bodyguard. You can’t trust all these random Magics, don’t you know. Best to hire protection.” She winked.
“I could even wrap his hands in vines to show we’re on the Watchers side,” Bryce said.
“They might recognize you.”
She was right. He had been known for his vines getting him into—and out of—trouble. But when she wasn’t looking, Bryce whispered a short mantra to the ivy growing up the pale grey brick that lined this portion of the garden and snapped a small piece off to put in his pocket. Just in case. You could never trust a room full of Watchers.
A plan in place, they walked to the station.
“This had better be him,” Bryce muttered to himself when the building was within eyesight. It was made with shiny, silver-coated glass that reflected back the uneasy smile on Bryce’s face. With a glance, he shifted to look at Merin’s easy posture, her straight-edged shoulders, her fluidity. Her upbringing would get them through the door. He would just have to play the part and hope for the best. The vine in his pocket twitched uneasily.
He gave a sigh and crossed his arms across his chest to appear more like a bodyguard, but it also gave him the sense of relief of having something in between him and that reflection staring back at him.