DARJA
She’s alive. Sofi’s alive.
I repeated it to myself like a mantra, like thinking it over and over would make it true, and not a dream I’d soon wake from. I wished I could feel her hug so damn much it hurt, but this misty, incorporeal embrace was all we had…and I was happy to cling to it. We’d searched high and low, and the desperation that had taken hold when we’d finally given up and headed for the festival had been crushing. But our relief and joy and our sisterhood filled up the emptiness where our magical bond used to be. There was a new bond to replace it, a different one, and we didn’t need magic—or bodies—for that.
Still, though I’d fought it so hard at first, I missed the bond—missed the feeling of not being so alone. So when Mirtel handed the binder to Sofi and I saw her flip to the smothering spell, I smiled. We read the words that would end the spell with wavering voices, and when the magic surged between us, I felt almost whole again.
I didn’t have long to enjoy the sensation though, as I noticed in the half-darkness over Sofi’s shoulder, another figure skulking just out of sight. I squinted and leaned forward, and then felt everything in me go suddenly rigid.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I hissed, backing away from Sofi. She bit her lip and cast her eyes toward the ground.
“She sort of…rescued me,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward Ms. Kross, who had her arms wrapped tightly around her koolis polo shirt, which was the same deep crimson as fresh blood in the creeping shadows.
“She what?” I said, forcing myself not to look at the woman’s face. I knew I couldn’t control myself if I did. I knew I couldn’t hold back the anger…the betrayal.
“We have another spell to do,” Sofi said gently, flipping through the pages until she found the visibility spell.
“No,” I said firmly.
Sofi smiled softly and nodded. “Yes. She helped me today. And I think this… I think this would help her.”
I shook my head, but I could already feel myself giving in. “Do you really think she deserves to be helped?” I asked.
“If we waited for everyone to deserve help, we’d be in a world of trouble.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I nodded my assent, and we motioned for Ms. Kross to come closer so we could perform the spell.
I heard her intake of breath, and knew that it had worked. When she spoke, I clenched my jaw and stared resolutely at the ground.
“Darja, I—” her voice wavered and then faltered. I could hear sharp, short intakes of breath, and I realized she was crying.
I swallowed down whatever nameless emotion was rising up in my throat, and moved my gaze carefully back up to Sofi’s worried face.
“She found you?” I said, hearing—and despising—the hoarseness in my voice.
Sofi nodded. ”I was tied up,” she said, rubbing unconsciously at her wrist. “My dad, he—” At this, Sofi’s face crumbled, and the tears she’d been holding back started to flow.
“Sofi,” I said, reaching a hand out toward her, though I knew I couldn’t comfort her like I wanted. Sniffling, she shook her head and wiped her tears, lifting her chin almost defiantly.
“Anyway,” she said, “Ms. Kross was following me, and after my dad left, she snuck in and got the keys—”
“He had you locked up?” I said, feeling a burst of anger flare inside me. Sofi gave a short nod.
“That son of a bitch.” I balled my hands into fists at my side.
A grim smile touched Sofi’s lips. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah. He also cast the smothering spell on our bond.”
I suddenly understood the phrase, ‘seeing red.’ I was livid with our father, and I was aghast that he could show such cruelty to his own daughter. In reality though, I was mostly mad at myself. How could I not have thought to check his office? It seemed completely idiotic in hindsight. A sudden thought occurred to me.
If our dad had cast the spell without a bonded…
“But that means…”
“I know,” she said quietly. “I know what it means.”
We stood there in silence for a long moment, before Ms. Kross leaned into the dim light. Her dark brown curls were loose around her face, and she looked older than I remembered.
“Darja,” she said again. “Darja, I’m so sorr—”
“Don’t,” I said, still refusing to meet her gaze. “You don’t get to do that.”
Her expression was stricken, but she nodded and stayed silent.
I could feel the others behind me, uncertain what to do, probably wondering if I was going to go all Carrie on them.
“And…thank you,” I said finally. “For saving her.”
Ms. Kross’s chin trembled. She must have thought better than to try to respond, but she swallowed hard and gave me a terse nod before looking away.
“We have to get moving,” I said, my own voice sounding a little less steady than I would have liked. “Sofi, are you still up for this?”
Sofi nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. “Absolutely.”
“Stephen,” I said, nodding to where he was awkwardly crouched behind Mirtel and Aggie. Behind his glasses, I could see that his eyes were shining, and I thought that maybe he was just as relieved as I was to see that Sofi was safe. “Are you ready?”
Pushing his glasses up on his nose and straightening his shoulders as best he could in the tight space, Stephen nodded. He moved past Sofi to retrieve his camera bag, and as he did, I saw his fingertips brush the back of her hand. She looked after him, something like relief on her face. Stephen grabbed the bag, hefted it by the strap then slung it over his shoulder. “Okay,” he said. “Ready.”
Mirtel smiled at Stephen, then looked at each of us in turn. “It’s been an honor,” she said, “being a part of this with all of you. Well,” she added, looking at Ms. Kross, “not you. But the rest of you, truly an honor. Thank you for making an old woman feel a little less crazy.”
I smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long while. “Let’s do this,” I said. Together, we crept toward the back of the platform, where a seam in the vinyl covering was slightly open and waving gently in the breeze. The light glimmered around the edges, creating a honey gold halo that looked almost welcoming. If I hadn’t been pretty sure we were walking to our doom.
Ms. Kross sidled up to me, still keeping her head down, though I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cramped space or the weight of her guilt. I hoped it was the latter.
“What can I do?” she said in a whisper.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” I shot back, but there was no real rancor in my voice.
“Darja, I can never make this right, I know that. I made a mistake. The worst mistake of my life.”
I scoffed. “And yet, here you are. The one who still has a life.”
I saw her wince out of the corner of my eye. Guilt it was, then. Good.
Still, I could feel some of the tension ease out of my shoulders. “You can keep an eye out,” I said finally. “Did Sofi explain what’s going on? What we’re trying to stop?”
Ms. Kross nodded.
“Good. Stephen is going to be recording the whole thing, and we’ll be focused on the spell, so if you can act as lookout, that’ll help.”
“Why is he recording it?” she said, even as she was nodding her agreement.
“Leverage,” I said. “In case something goes wrong, we want proof of what’s been happening in Vaikesti. We want to know that there may be some kind of justice for the girls…the girls….”
“Girls like you,” she whispered, and I nodded because I couldn’t speak.
Slowly, as if approaching a feral animal, she reached out a hand and placed it on, or at least near, my arm. It was familiar, almost soothing, and I remembered that, of all the teachers and students in the koolis, even as ‘Kross the Boss,’ she had been the friendliest face through most of my teenage years.
“Let’s go,” I said, moving to catch up with the others. There would be time to analyze those feelings…later.
We had just huddled around the opening at the back of the stage, ready to step outside, when we heard footsteps above us, heavy and loud. The entire platform creaked and shivered, and I wondered if it would come down around our ears before we could even get started.
There was a squeal of feedback as someone turned on the PA system, and then an echoing tap tap tap on the microphone.
“Welcome, citizens of Vaikesti, to our annual Midsummer Festival. It’s always a wonderful occasion, but it’s even more special this year, as we mark 150 years of community, caring and culture.”
The voice was female, and older, but I didn’t recognize it. I looked to Sofi, and her face was carefully schooled in a blank expression. I couldn’t tell if she knew the mystery speaker or not.
“Now, I know this has been quite a year for our little village, and there have been many exciting developments. I know you’re all anxious to get underway, but to commemorate this very special occasion, I’d first like to lead you in a prayer of prosperity. Please, everyone, join me.”
The woman’s voice was reverent as she began speaking in the old language, its lilting phrases washing over me in a way that felt both comforting and agonizing. I’d repeated this prayer countless times while I was growing up, heard it recited by the teachers and townspeople before every harvest, but I hadn’t known then. I hadn’t realized the magic it was channeling, the power it invoked. And it horrified me.
The rest of the townspeople joined in, their voices lifting in chorus, the prayer becoming rhythmic and staccato, like a chant. They didn't know, none of them knew, what they were praying for. None of them knew what the answer to that prayer would be—what the blood magic would bring down on them. I felt sick to my stomach.
“And now,” the voice resumed in a normal tone, “I’d like to welcome to the stage the Council leader of our beautiful town, who also happens to be my husband.” I went still as ice shot through me and the voice above chuckled. “Robert, would you like to join us?”
Sofi’s father. Which meant the voice belonged to Sofi’s mother. I didn’t know if she was aware of what was going on, of what her husband had done, but if she was…if she could come out and speak like that, and lead the town in prayer, knowing how her husband had treated their daughter…
I couldn’t think about it right then. I was sure Sofi was thinking of it, though. And imagining the pain she was feeling tore a hole in me. But we’d talk about it later. I’d comfort her later. There would be time for that…later.
There were different, heavier footsteps moving across the stage, and some whispers that weren’t quite caught by the microphone. Moments later, the voice of Sofi’s dad—our dad—came booming out, seeming to fill up the space around us like thunder.
“Glad Midsummer,” he said cheerfully, and the townspeople responded in kind. “Thank you all for being here today. As you know, this festival marks a momentous day for the people of Vaikesti, our heritage and our way of life. It is my pleasure to lead the town in one of the most meaningful rituals of our ancestors. And this year,” he said, his voice slightly teasing, “it’s actually going to work.”
There was scattered laughter from the gathered crowd. I could almost hear a buzz of excitement ripple through them, and the pit in my stomach grew heavier. I looked over to Sofi, whose face was still blank, and she gave me a nod. That was our cue, then.
As our father continued with his speech, we crept out from under the platform. Or at least, the living among us did. Aggie and I simply phased through the vinyl covering and into the sunshine.
It was spectacularly bright, and I could see the others blinking blindly as they got their bearings.
“Stay low,” Sofi hissed, crouching down onto the grass, and the rest of us followed her direction. She nodded at Ms. Kross and pointed to the back corner of the stage. There was a large speaker set up there, and she could stay hidden while keeping an eye out for approaching danger. There was also a set of stairs leading up to the stage directly behind the speaker, so she could climb up there unnoticed. Ms. Kross nodded her understanding and moved silently away from us. Stephen took Sofi’s hand, and ignoring her look of wide-eyed surprise, tipped up her chin and planted a soft kiss on her lips. Then, wordlessly, he followed Ms. Kross, pulling out his camera as he went.
Well. Stephen had grown a pair. How about that?
I exchanged a look with Aggie, and I could see a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. I wanted to kiss her, too, but there would be time for that…later.
Above us, on the stage, our father was calling up the first five pairs to work the spell. They would perform it as a trial, he explained, and when it was successful, which it would be, the rest of the hundred volunteers would pair up to work it again. I’d gotten a look at the stage as we ran for cover, and had seen the boxes lined up in the center. About four feet across and two feet wide, and at least a foot deep. All were filled with dirt. This was the setup, I realized. It was to be a performance, showing off the magic in front of the entire town. This time though, the utter arrogance of it all worked in our favor. If they were going to put on a show first, it meant we could work the counterspell in phases, so we wouldn’t need as much power to stop them.
This was going to work. It was actually going to work.
There were more footsteps across the stage, as the ten townspeople—guinea pigs—took their places. The crowd clapped their encouragement, and I heard some nervous laughter from the stage. After a moment, a hush fell over the crowd, and I wondered if our father was gesturing for them to be silent. He must love having that kind of control.
The voices began tentatively, in unison, and I could feel a tremble of magic beneath my feet. Was this where it came from, I wondered? From the earth itself? I wondered if the townspeople could feel it, too. But there was no time to dwell on it, we had to act…fast.
The four of us took our positions, Sofi and I standing across from each other, and Mirtel and Aggie next to us, in the same stance. We began chanting in hushed whispers, and I could feel an arc of electricity along the bond we shared. I wanted to close my eyes, wanted to let the magic envelop me, consume me, but I kept my gaze focused on Sofi, drawing power from her presence.
The four of us continued, a soft rhythm of words that once had no meaning, and had come to hold the future of our world, our people. I could barely hear the chanting from the stage, drowned out by the magic that was twining around us like a living thing. It was warm and cool at the same time, creeping in tendrils up and down my back, licking at my ankles and shivering around my fingers. We simultaneously raised our hands, as we had practiced, almost as if cupping water for a cool drink. Then we lifted our arms and opened our hands, releasing our counterspell.
With a whoosh, I felt the magic move through me and out of me, leaving me feeling suddenly achingly hollow. I looked at the others, and knew they felt it, too.
The voices above us went quiet.
The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity. Had it worked? Had we stopped them?
I could feel my tight expression breaking into a hopeful grin. But then, the cheering started. It was a wave of ecstatic laughter and hoots that sounded more like hyenas than humans. I looked at the others and saw my own dazed and uncertain expression mirrored back at me.
“Well,” our father’s voice boomed out, with a hint of a chuckle. “We haven’t worked out all the kinks yet, I suppose. But three out of five isn’t bad.”
I looked at Sofi, and saw my panic reflected in her eyes. Since neither Sofi or Mirtel could see for themselves, I phased up to the stage, and gasped at what I saw. Three of the five boxes were overflowing with vibrant green vines and heavy, ripe fruit that shone like jewels. The last two were barren. The four townspeople standing nearby looked disappointed, even ashamed, but they looked healthy.
The others…
The others were shells of themselves, gray and worn, looking like they’d been through a war. They’d aged a decade in mere moments. With horror, I realized the counterspell had worked…but not enough. All that power, all that magic, and we’d only stopped two pairs.
I phased back down to the others and shook my head. Sofi buckled to her knees, and Aggie looked stricken. Mirtel’s face was unreadable, but she walked over and placed her hands on Sofi’s shoulders, shushing her softly.
It had worked. Just not enough.
We had failed.