KORVO:
Kor waited until he heard the breath of the two young boys deepen and soften. He tapped the cards in his hand. He was tempted to ask the cards to show him something of the future, give him something to believe in. But Kor couldn’t bring himself to lay the cards out in front of him.
He had expected some out-of-control and angry teen when he had read the cards. But now he had a Phoenix and a fire Magic. A young one at that. Someone who couldn’t help them. Not yet. Not anytime soon. And time was not something they had a lot of. He shook the negative thoughts from his head. They also had someone young to get started in their school. He was going to make it happen even if he only got permission for the building. He could scrounge up money, supplies, pupils, teachers. He’d done harder things. He smiled a little. Tiernan would show great progress. The Council would see it. Korvo sat a little straighter.
He took a deep breath. Kor gritted his teeth and, with a last look at his charges, made his way down to where Aer would be singing.
A blast of cold air sent the chill of the winter night directly into his mangled hand as he approached the club where Aer worked. He could hear her singing before he had even turned down the street. The wind carried the notes to him. He stopped for a moment and let the words wash over him. For a second he didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel the ache in his hand. This was Aer’s real power: to ease the weight of the world from Kor’s shoulders.
He sat in the back by the bar like always. His face was almost hidden in the dark room. Even though his darker features were strong, his olive skin faded into the shadows. His yellow-green eyes caught the subtle reflected lights from behind the bar. Only the occasional stranger would sit and ask for a reading, and Kor would deal cards while Aer sang.
But tonight, no strangers came to ask for their fates to be revealed. He let himself concentrate on the music and forget the rest of the world.
“You knew to send Bryce because he spoke Hadranian, didn’t you?” he said when a thin shadow crossed his face.
“Why would that make sense? You’re the one who is fluent.” Aer sat down at the table. Next to each other, they could both look out into the bar scene. Content to watch the crowd mill around, they sat silently for a minute. Men, who were past drunk, kept losing and then finding their footing enough to carry a drink or two back to their table.
A shouting match started on the other side of the bar. Two men raised their hands, but the limp wrists and uneasy footsteps proved not enough to start a ruckus.
“And we’re the problem,” Aer said, reaching over to take a sip from Kor’s glass of water. She held the glass up in the light and swirled it around. The yellowish rust blended with the water, making it almost look like something drinkable.
Kor took the glass from her, mocked a salute, and downed it.
“This place has lots of problems.” Kor set the empty glass down on the table.
“Magics aren’t one.” Aer turned so her back was to him. He moved closer. He reached up a hand to touch her hair but put it down.
“Not yet,” he smiled instead. She reached back and put a hand on his knee.
“I bet Merin could make the water in this place drinkable. I wonder how they think the water for the upper class is cleaned. They always welcome our gifts when we’re useful,” she gestured to the crowd who was eagerly waiting for her to continue.
“Merin could be a big asset when it comes to getting the rich on board. And she is the best educated of all of us. No tattoo and no school ban,” Kor said.
Aer breathed deeply as if she was about to say something, but stopped. Her hand dropped to Kor’s knee. Kor sat straight up trying not to move. He wanted Aer’s hand to stay on his knee, her fingers slowly smoothing the fabric of his pant leg. He didn’t want any movement to startle her.
Aer shrugged. “I think she needs the Raven’s head.”
Kor jerked away from her. He looked at her face for some sort of reaction, but her eyes were focused on the table in front of them, and her lips were calm. She had thought about this.
“Aer, isn’t that offense number one in your book?”
She pulled the feathered ruffle close to her neck to cover the dark mark.
“It’s just a thought,” her voice dropped to a whisper, but her eyes were still focused.
A waiter came and filled Kor’s glass. He smiled at him and handed him a few coins. Water may have been free, but any kind of service for Magics always came with a price.
“What would that help?” he asked her when the waiter had cleared away far enough so that he wouldn’t hear their conversation.
“Visibility. Respect. Isn’t that what we want?” She didn’t meet his eye. Her arms were twitching slightly. He moved closer.
“Aer,” he sighed after a moment, “truthfully, did you know about his Phoenix?”
She shook her head. Then for a minute let her head rest on Kor’s shoulder.
“I knew he was from Hadran, and I…”
The feathers in her hair tickled his ear, but he didn’t move. He knew better than to move when Aer was having a moment like this. She was not one for showing her affection.
“I was worried you would run away with him,” she said raising her head. The feathers left a trace of prickled skin on his neck. He ran his rough right hand over the little bumps to soothe them.
“There’s work to be done here,” he said, putting his right hand up to cradle her face for a moment.
“And it needs to be done soon.” She stood and straightened the short, pastel blue skirt that revealed her thin legs. Kor looked away. This was no time to be thinking about having her body close to his.
“What have you heard?” He reached for the cards in his pocket. She looked around.
“With the number of kids the Watchers are pulling into the Refuge, I don’t think it will be too long before people give up on us. Something is going to happen, and we either watch from the sidelines or we lead the charge before we become less than human to them.”
“Sure, they’ve ignored giving Magics their rights, but you don’t think they are going to actually believe we aren’t human?” Kor asked. She traced her fingers down from his shoulder to his right hand. The mangled flesh still bristled under her touch.
“Don’t you?”
“Hadran is a different place. It’s bred into people from the time they’re born: Magics are bad. But look at how many people come to hear you sing.” Every table at the club had at least two people sitting at it. The buzz of conversation that was drowning out their whispers would fall silent again once she took the stage. Aer shook her head.
“And they would throw me away the second I became anything but convenient. I only pick up so many hours here because they can pay me less.” She reached for the glass of water, and then took her hand away. “They can give me crap hours, and I won’t walk away. These people are no better than the ones that branded that mark on your chest. They just haven’t realized what power they have yet.”
“They just need to see. They need to know we aren’t dangerous.”
“I’m just thinking, Kor, maybe it’s time we were dangerous. Fight fire with fire.”
“No, there is no point in proving them right. That’s not fighting the fires. It’s only feeding them.”
“And if Tiernan gets away from Bryce and accidentally lights every tree in the park ablaze? What happens then?”
“That won’t happen.”
“We used to talk about making a stand.”
“We are.” He swallowed hard. “We just can’t let kids like them stay in danger.”
“Kor, I know you believe Bryce is capable of this—”
“You believed in him this morning.”
“That was before I knew Tiernan was a Fire Magic. You have to think past your loyalties. You have to think of the big picture.”
“I am thinking big picture. You told me yourself that I never read the cards wrong.”
“I’m just asking you to stop thinking with this,” she laid her hand gently on his heart, “and start thinking about this,” she jabbed the point of her finger into the exact spot where he carried what was once his death sentence.
“Aer,” he grabbed for her hand, but she pulled away. She was scared. The lines in her forehead were cut deep. Her slim hands trembled slightly. He let her go in silence.
Kor looked at the swirling filth in his water and laid his head against the back of his chair. He knew the difference between people being blind to the hurt they cause, and people being blind to humanity. He rubbed his right hand. He shuffled the cards once more before putting them back into his pocket.
He listened for a minute as Aer started her next set. Her feathers danced in the snappy breeze that surrounded her, but the song was anything but the soothing sounds she normally sang. This one was a call for action, and Kor left before he let it take hold of his thoughts.
He had a plan. He had a plan when he got to Kaybrum. Now that plan was to start the school. End the Refuge. It had to be the plan. Aer would see that.
Kor wandered the streets. It was hours before he needed to convince everyone to give toward the school. He should sleep an hour or two before meeting up with the rest of the resistance, but something about the night wasn’t letting him. Maybe he shouldn’t have given Tiernan the spot closest to the chimney stack, since the cold seemed to be eating at his bones. Nothing to do but walk through the night and think.
Kor had the vision. He was a planner. He moved the pieces. But lately, it felt like the pieces fought him every time he tried to make a move. Kor felt the sudden urge to go wake up Bryce and bring him to the meeting. Bryce was always ready to fight a battle for him, but that was childish, and Kor knew it. He’d have to face the group alone.
He wandered toward the walls of the city. The closer you got to the walls, the closer to Magics you were going to be. The walls may cover even the brightest days with a shadow, but there were always vibrant colors and plenty of music to make up for it. The doorways opened letting the light spill out onto the street.
“Korvo, how’s it going?” Bethlem called from up the street. Kor walked quickly over to him.
“Strange days,” Kor said, glancing around him. Bethlem took a step inside the bar and motioned for Kor to follow. He followed the older man through the maze of hanging tapestries in doorways until they came to the same back room where Kor had met Tiernan and where Kor would spend another night trying to convince people of this plan.
“Any news?” Bethlem asked. He leaned toward Kor, and Kor let himself sit on the ruby leather couch.
“Are people restless?” Kor ignored the question.
“More than usual you mean?” Bethlem said. His long frame and the way he leaned against the doorway reminded Korvo of Aer. He sighed thinking about what she had said.
“Yeah,” Kor heard the air of impatience within his own voice. He tried to swallow it down.
“Well, the Watchers have started making double the amount of rounds they normally do through these parts. I have to admit that makes people a little jumpy.” The creases in Bethlem’s dark brown skin usually made him seem friendly and open, a great trait for a barkeep. But now, right before Kor had to ask everyone for more, it just made Bethlem look as tired as Kor felt.
“You’re telling them to play it cool, right? We can’t have people taking justice into their own hands.” Kor rubbed his forehead. His furrow had deepened well beyond his years. “And we can’t lose any more older Magics to the labor camps.”
“I know the plan, Kor, I just wish it could come sooner. Us old people, at least the ones still here, we just got to make sure we follow the law. But you kids, them Watchers can get you for just looking wrong.”
“Justice is a slow burn.” Kor rubbed at his hand as the others made their way into the back room.
AER:
Most of the group had already arrived when Aer snuck into the back. A ragtag group of people she and Kor had been able to cobble together over the last few years. There were few people older than them. Bethlem, of course, and a pair of twins who sold doctored water to the rich. Another few faces that she didn’t know well, just well enough to gather information from them. Sometimes it was better not to know too much. She scanned the small crowd again. No Bryce or Merin. Kor must really want to keep Tiernan a secret if he didn’t bring Bryce.
She let herself stick to the shadows. Tiernan’s arrival had sparked a feeling of necessity in her. It felt like her heart was beating fast enough for her to be running, but her limbs weren’t moving. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Even Kor. Although that meant he was going to be by himself up there.
Kor stood tall at the front of the room. He laughed with a group of people as they came in, but Aer could tell he wasn’t at ease. His eyebrows pinched together slightly, and the bags under his eyes seemed a little more pronounced than normal.
“Let’s get this started,” Bethlem said coming to stand next to Korvo.
“Welcome, friends,” Kor said. His melancholy pushed to the edges of his pronounced eyebrows, and his fingers rubbed absentmindedly against his damaged hand. Aer doubted anyone else saw. Kor only let people see what he wanted: strength, resolve, understanding.
The room quieted, and the doors were closed. In the end, not that many people had come. They had lost numbers in the last few months to arrests and people giving up, but there were still more people than they had started with.
She had found Kor on top of the Refuge. His hand was still bandaged then. His face was pained and angry. She had climbed up the tower to practice her singing. No one would notice a little extra lightning around the tallest metal structure during a storm.
Kor had been huddled next to the smokestack. His clothes were tattered and wet, clinging to his body, but he didn’t seem to notice that.
“Who are you?” she had asked when she stepped onto the rooftop. She gave herself a wide berth. Strangers were not to be trusted. She had flipped her hair to the side and started braiding it while keeping an eye on him.
Eventually, he spoke. “Magic?” he said. His accent was thick with the flavor of Hadran.
“What of it?” Aer said.
“Me too.”
“Sure,” Aer said looking him over. There was no Raven’s head on him that she could see.
He pointed to the bandages on his hand. She nodded.
“This place. It’s evil, isn’t it?” Kor said looking down at the metal roof. The pinging of rain surrounded them. Aer nodded her head.
“I’m going to burn it to the ground.” His yellow-green eyes caught hers. She was mesmerized in an instant.
How long had she felt the same thing? How long had she wanted justice? And this stranger had put words to her feelings immediately.
“Aer,” she said sticking out her hand.
“Korvo,” he said looking down at his hand and extending his left.
They shook, and after that, they had become inseparable. They spent nights talking and dreaming of what the world could be like. Slowly, Aer had pulled out some details about his time in Hadran. Some, but she knew it was never all of it. It could never be all of it. There was a deep pain behind his eyes.
And here they were now, she thought, refocusing on the conversation Kor was having.
“If they won’t give us any money, Kor, it won’t matter,” one of the twins said from the side of the room.
The other twin echoed her concerns, “Magics have no money. If anyone gives more to the school, they will have less for taxes, and then it’s a one-way ticket to work camps and long stays at the Refuge.”
“I know it seems like a big ask,” Kor said. His throat was tight, but from the distance, Aer couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness that was beginning to choke his words. “But this is our first real chance. We’ve been working for years for this.”
“I heard that some Watchers are giving a test to the little ones. If they can’t read, they’re a burden to society,” someone called from the corner. Aer didn’t need to see who it was to know that what they said was true. It was one of the things she had shown Kor before they had found Tiernan.
“Good thing Magics don’t get free schooling,” a voice snapped from the other side of the room. The din of the room rose. Aer couldn’t track the individual voices anymore.
“Doomed.” “Unfair.” “Pointless.” “Necessary.” “Hopeless.” All of these words filtered in and out of the tangle of conversations around her. She felt her heart tugging at her to run again. The tug to go do something. Burn it to the ground. Kor’s words echoed through her head.
As Kor tried to get everyone back together, Aer slipped from her place in the shadows and moved toward the door. She had heard enough. She gave one last glance back at Kor, and for a second his bright eyes found her in the crowd. He turned his head ever so slightly, as if asking her a question. But she didn’t respond. She felt his eyes linger on her as she made her way out into the night.
She should have headed toward the walls, but she needed time to process. She couldn’t sit around and play nice anymore. Maybe Kor would see he was too concerned with not rocking the boat, but either way, she had to do something.
KORVO:
Aer had left. He couldn’t remember if she had ever left a meeting early before.
“I don’t think I can ask my people,” piped in someone who worked on the north end of the Wall District.
“Let’s focus on books for now,” Kor said. “There have to be some around from before the school ban. We’ll find those. Anything is better than nothing.”
Everyone in the room nodded.
“If you happen to come across some books, however you can, that will be enough for now,” Kor said, closing out the meeting.
When the room had emptied to just Kor and Bethlem, Kor felt the tension leak onto his face. Bethlem lightly tapped his shoulder. Kor sat down. His body felt heavy, and getting off his feet didn’t seem to help at all.
“There hasn’t been any word of any Fire Magic, has there?” Kor asked as Bethlem cleared the tables.
“A Fire Magic? Not for years.”
“Good.” Kor handed over a small silver coin, “You let me know if you hear any talk. Even if you think it’s some rumor I wouldn’t care about. Anything about a Fire Magic comes to me.”
Bethlem nodded. He took the coin and put it in his front pocket.
“Anything else you need from us?” Bethlem asked.
Kor started to stand, his hands pushing the dark chestnut desk in front of him.
“Actually, there is a small favor.”
“Whatever you need,” Bethlem said, wiping his hands on his barkeep’s apron.
“I…” The words stuck in his throat. “Aer…never mind.” He turned to leave. His arm had already begun to part the purple gauze curtain.
“Something needs to happen soon,” Bethlem said in almost a whisper.
Kor nodded. “I don’t need the cards to know that.”
“I’m sure you don’t. Be careful, Korvo. You’ve put your neck on the line.”
“Well, if I hadn’t made it out of Hadran, I’d be dead anyway.”
“That’s—I’m just—watch out for yourself. Don’t wait for the cards to tell you.”
“Thanks, Bethlem.”
Kor ducked out underneath the curtain. Then he stuck his head back in, “Remember: anything about a Fire Magic and it comes directly to me.”
Bethlem said nothing and let Korvo move out into the chaos of the bar.
Two young messengers nearly toppled Kor on his way out. They gave him a brief nod before realizing who he was. Coming to a complete stop, they circled back and gave him a small salute.
“Where you boys off to at this time of night?”
“Delivering some money to the walls,” the smaller one said.
“Well, don’t let me stop you,” The boys turned and kept running into the dark shadows of the night.
He should go to the walls tonight, too. There would be no sleep waiting for him back at the Refuge. And there would be nothing Bethlem could do about the books for a while. He sighed and headed toward the metal walls twenty feet thick and forty feet high. The metal was welded together in haste near the bottom, but near the top it was graceful and gleaming with the slight dance of light hitting where no buildings clouded the view.
Korvo came to a deep fissure in the metal. The wall peeled away from the massive structure. He breathed in for a count of seven and held his breath. Releasing the captive air through his nose, he headed inside the walls.
His eyes adjusted quickly to the absolute darkness surrounding him. The air felt warm on his face, but the stale smell beat out the brief feeling of warmth. Kor took a tentative step, making sure his foot was placed on something solid before letting his entire weight settle. The walls were busy, but that didn’t mean there weren’t things to trip on if you didn’t know your way around. People weren’t supposed to hide in the walls like rats, after all.
The glow of a small lantern made his hand jump to his eyes. He stumbled closer to it, letting his feet drag across the floor, looking for the stops and starts of passageways and stairs that popped out of nowhere.
“The Chosen returns,” a voice snaked its way to Korvo.
“Sid,” Korvo replied. In the weak light, Korvo could hardly make out Sid’s features. Sid was shorter than him even though they were the same age. His eyes were almost black, but Korvo wondered if his pupils were just that way because he lived in the walls.
“What is the fabulous hero doing slumming it in here with us?” Sid sneered.
“It’s been a while,” Kor replied. His voice was calm and cold. Sid had once come to all of their meetings, but that had stopped some time ago.
“A while? Sure,” Sid said, looking at his fingernails.
“Sid …” Kor started.
“Don’t Sid me. Everyone sees you as some savior. The burned-hand martyr come to save us from evil. We don’t all need saving.”
“I’m not trying to save anyone. I’m just trying to give us a fair shake.” Kor sighed. “I just wanted to check in.”
“Everyone here is fine. You can go now.”
“I’d like to see for myself.” Kor brought himself up to his full height, letting his arms drop to his sides to give him some mass.
“Of course. Your Majesty.” Sid bowed and moved to the side. Kor ignored him and walked past. It was best not to argue. He would only get mad.
“Kor!” The nearest healer cooed when he walked into a medic wing. He managed a smile despite Sid following in behind him. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Where’s Aer?”
“Busy. I needed to see for myself.” He glanced over the beds lined up along the curve of the wall. The beds stretched for as long as the light held, and he wondered how many more of these wings there were around the miles of the entire wall. Hospitals, after all, could deny Magics help.
He looked around at the makeshift hospital. No fresh air or natural light. No wonder some people never got better even with the best healers. Still, it was safer to be here in the walls with some help than out there with nothing.
Kor looked at the sleeping face in the bed nearest him. It was a kid who looked too much like Bryce for comfort. Kor shut his eyes hard. This was the real reason he stayed away. More than claustrophobia or dealing with Sid. There was nothing he could do for these people lying so helplessly in their beds. Merin would be able to help. Aer and Bryce might be able to soothe them. But Kor could only read them their fate. With their shallow breathing he could barely hear despite such small quarters, he knew it would not be hopeful.
“Had enough?” Sid jibed from behind him. “Tell me how your big plan keeps this from happening. Can you?”
The healer glared at Sid but walked away to the next bed. Kor noticed her silence.
“No one can fix everything overnight, Sid.”
“But have you fixed anything?” He tapped his fingers on the metal footboard.
“Sid, that’s not fair,” the healer said from the other side of the room. She gave Kor a weak smile. He didn’t return it.
“And hiding in the walls has made a bigger difference?” Kor felt the blood rushing up to his cheeks. “Kept kids from suffering needlessly in the Refuge?”
“It’s time you realized that the Refuge is not the problem. It’s them,” Sid threw his hand against the wall causing the metal to let out a slow groan that echoed through the hallway. “Out there,” he pointed. “Out there, those people would rather see us die than give us help.”
“And how do we change their minds? Violence? Doing the same that’s been done to us?” Kor’s fist balled up, but he refused to raise it. Sid’s eyes dropped to Kor’s hand.
“Stop them before they can do to us what your people did to you,” Sid spat.
“I think you need to spend some time outside. See how much is them and how much is your anger.”
“I’m not the only one who’s angry. You think little hot-headed Bryce is going to toe the line for you for the rest of his life? The kid can hardly keep himself out of fights. How many times have you kept him from the Refuge? Let him fight for a cause.”
“Let him be used for your little war games, you mean,” Kor spat.
“Like you aren’t using him for your own agenda,” Sid said.
“At least I care about him. He believes in the future I promised him. What future can you give him, Sid? Your anger might lead you to your own doom, but twelve gods damn me if I let you lead Bryce into an early grave.”
Sid balked. Kor turned and walked out of the light of the lantern. He could feel his heart thundering. He clasped his right hand to his chest and held it like he could calm his heart from there. He took a few breaths and headed toward the fissure in the wall.
From the back of the tunnel, he could hear Sid yell. “Bryce isn’t a little kid anymore. You’ll see!”
Kor took a deep breath before he stepped out into the fresh air. Sid was wrong. The world outside could learn to coexist with Magics. Bryce could quell his anger.
The night was alive with Magics. People from all districts in the city came to partake in the nightlife. Normal people enjoying the amazements of something they didn’t quite understand.
He sat back and watched the non-Magics watch two women making water dance to the music of their flutes. It had nothing to do with the flutes; instead, it was their connection to the elements, but the illusion was there. He smiled to himself.
Sid was wrong. Aer was wrong. The plan would work.
“Kor!” Bethlem called from down the street. “Managed to scrounge up a few.”
“Where did you get them so quickly?” Kor asked.
Bethlem winked. He handed Korvo a large brown bag filled with bright-colored paper that was worn gently on the edges.
“Thank you.” Kor gave the man a pat on the back.
“It’s nothing much, but I hope it’ll help,” Bethlem said.
“It will.”
Bethlem nodded and headed back to his bar. Kor looked up at the clock sitting at the top of the city street signs. He sighed and turned back toward the tall shadow that loomed just outside the merriment. He would need to get some sleep before work in the morning. His revolution wasn’t going to pay for itself.
AER:
After she left the meeting, Aer wandered around the city. This tightness in her chest hadn’t subsided; really, it was building. The tang of anger filled her stomach, and when she stopped walking it threatened to come up. Over the course of the year, she’d been feeling the anger rise up. She had known her patience was thinning. She could hear it in her voice. She had been pushing Kor away. She had known this was coming. Had he?
She pulled the collar of her jacket close against her neck, covering her jagged Raven’s head tattoo from the rest of the world.
When had she stopped believing in Korvo? She shook herself. She still believed in him. She just didn’t believe the Council would change their mind as long as they toed the line. Didn’t the arrival of Tiernan prove that? That it was possible for people to see them and not see a real person? An innocent child being sentenced to death a country over meant it was just time until Kaybrum did the same thing. Kor had the same mark. Why couldn’t he see what she saw? Kor’s plan wasn’t moving fast enough. They needed to force people to listen to them. The people in the Wall agreed, and she had a meeting with them to get to. She slipped through the night almost carried by the wind.
She headed for the Wall. Kor had been sending her to check in on the people in the Wall for years. It had just become part of the pattern. She talked to the people in the Wall who had walked away from Kor’s plans; he spent time around the city trying to make the plans happen. They were a team. At least, they had been a team.
“You just missed your little boyfriend,” Sid said after she had stepped into the area behind the medic wing they used for a meeting room.
“Korvo was here?” Aer asked, looking over her shoulder. She knew Kor would find out about this eventually, but she needed time to get him to see that creating the school, ending the Refuge, was never going to be enough.
“The Sunshine Crusader himself.” Sid slumped into a chair. “I don’t know how you can spend time with him.”
“You don’t know him,” she said. “He’s a fighter.”
“You are a fighter. He’s just a hurt dog licking his wounds and hoping for handouts.”
“He’s seen things you can’t understand, Sid.”
“I understand the way we are treated here. I understand that needs to change. And I understand that sitting around and playing nice isn’t going to help anyone. What do you understand, Aer?”
“Something needs to happen,” she agreed.
“Good,” he said, folding his hands in front of him. “I was worried that lover boy would get in the way. What news did you bring me today?”
“Korvo and I took in a Fire Magic today.”
“Fire Magic. That will make some noise.” Sid tapped the table.
“He’s just a child. But I think we can still use him. But you have to promise he stays hidden until after.”
“Going soft?”
“Children don’t need to have their lives ruined. We don’t need another person with a hand like Korvo.” She paused. Sid scoffed. She pursed her lips. Sid didn’t care about sympathy. “Tiernan stays out of the fight.”
“Fine,” Sid said. “But we move in one week. Get everything ready.” He stood and walked out of the room, taking his lantern with him. The light drained away with him. Aer sat alone.
A week didn’t give her much time. She would never convince Korvo by then. Merin would be too reluctant to fight. It wasn’t her fault she was so naive, growing up being treated like a non-magic. Passing the way she did tinted the world with rose-colored glasses.
Bryce. She could convince Bryce. And through him, she thought as she took a deep breath, building up the resolve, through him she could get to Tiernan.
The sun was halfway in the sky when Aer made her way up the rickety ladder. She hoped she knew Kor well enough to know that even though he desperately needed sleep, he would be out working. When she finally crested the top of the building, she hid herself in the growing shadows behind the pipes and metal work. She waited. Bryce was sleeping soundly, his arms propped up over his head, covering the top half of his face. No need to wake him. Tiernan, however, was fitful in his sleep. This only doubled Aer’s resolve. No child should live like their worst nightmares had come to life. She sang under her breath. The wind joined with her. She started with a lullaby, but that was not enough to soothe the frightened child in front of her. Tiernan thrashed to the side. See, she tried to direct her thoughts to Korvo wherever he was, peace won’t work when the darkness runs this deep.
“Shouldn’t he know that?” she whispered to herself, moving next to the little boy. Then, she sang the only other song she could think of, a song of revolution. Of action. Of war. Tiernan woke immediately.
Aer watched the little boy as he looked her over once or twice. He didn’t say anything, just sat with his hands cupped to him. The little flutters of light told Aer he was playing with fire. She let him play and poured some breakfast into a bowl for him from a bag she assumed Korvo had left for them. She pushed it over. Tiernan’s eyes scanned her again, but he eventually took the bowl.
Bryce finally woke up. His eyes fluttered heavily, but the metal of the roof caught his eye, and he flailed to a seated position. He grabbed for Tiernan. The little boy raised his eyebrow but kept munching on the granola Aer had mixed with some fruit. Bryce still hadn’t noticed her.
Bryce pulled the bag of food Kor had left closer to him, fished around inside, and bit into one of the pears. “I bet this tastes like home,” he said. He didn’t bother translating it into Hadranian. Aer wasn’t sure he could.
Reaching back into the bag of supplies, Bryce pulled out a few thin children’s books.
“Jokes on you, Korvo,” Bryce said to the air around him. “I can’t read these either.”
“I think he knew that,” Aer said, leaning out of the shadows.
“You must-a just missed him,” Bryce said looking down at the books in front of him.
“I knew he wouldn’t be here.” Aer tried to gauge Bryce’s mood. He was well known for the pent-up anger he swung like a club in fights around the city. He would fight anyone who even suggested Magics didn’t deserve their rights. That somehow by luck of birth they should be orphaned and ridiculed and jailed. But he was also fiercely loyal to Korvo. Aer had to play this close to the chest. She continued before Bryce had time to ask why she was there. “What are you two going to do today?”
“Find Merin.” Bryce grabbed a handful of granola from Tiernan. The little boy glared, but let Bryce eat from his bowl.
“And?” Aer shifted so she was sitting upright. Bryce shrugged and held up the books. Aer nodded.
A silence sat between them.
“Is this doable?” Bryce asked. Aer gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“Reading? Yeah. I mean they teach little kids all the time, right?”
“I meant the school. Keeping him safe. Keeping us safe. Ending the Refuge. Being treated as equals,” he said in the lightest of voices. It came out almost like a cry. Aer took a second to compose herself from the shock of seeing Bryce so vulnerable.
“The world isn’t listening,” she said finally. There was no time like the present. A week was ticking down quickly.
Bryce let his breath rush out. “What do you mean?”
“Right now,” she gestured to the city, “they aren’t listening.” Her face was calm.
Bryce leaned in. “But we need them to listen. Kor’s plan needs the Council to listen to us and end this horrific prison.” He tapped the metal below their feet.
Aer nodded. “Needing them to listen isn’t going to make them listen,” she said, letting her eyes close for a moment. Her heart churned in her chest, but a fire burned in her belly. It forced her to continue. “We need a little bit of force.”
“How?” He shifted closer to her on the roof.
“First, we have to make them hear.” She smiled softly and looked out over the cityscape with her tired eyes. In the early morning with the light still causing the horizon to blossom, the city looked hopeful. It looked like change could come.
Aer began to sing—first under her breath and then louder—the song that had woken Tiernan from his nightmares. She felt her limbs creak underneath her. The strain of using subtle magic all night as she sang was starting to catch up to her. But even if the magic in the words didn’t reach Bryce, the ideas would. She saw that hope was starting to waver in him, and the only way to keep it alive was to light it on fire.