Into the Fire (The Mieshka Files, Book One) (6 page)

Seeing him this close—he looked old. Lines carved close to his eyes. Her fist tightened. He was thinner than she remembered him being, despite his pizza intake.

He finished rubbing his eyes and, perhaps seeing something in her expression, dragged the door farther open. Mieshka led the way to the living area, where they faced each other under the dim bulb. A quick glance at the pizza boxes made her shun the couch. Instead, she leaned on the wall to the kitchen.

“I met the Fire Mage today.”

Her dad wobbled to a stop, looking dazed in the light. He frowned, suppressing a yawn. She wondered what his sleep cycle was like now.

“The Fire Mage?” he pronounced slowly, as if he hadn’t heard it right.

“His name is Aiden. He offered me an apprenticeship.”

He leaned his shoulder against the wall. Under the loose t-shirt, he looked too thin. The light put a sickly yellow on his oily skin. With his gaze withdrawn, he took a long, quiet moment. The kitchen clock ticked in the interim.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because his machine told him I had magic.”

Another quiet moment.

“
Magic?
”

The tone that made her smile. The gravelly quality of his voice had lessened. He sounded more like her old dad. “You don’t have magic.”

Nice support network. She didn’t take offense. His eyes were still withdrawn, forearms crossed over his stomach as if he were cold.

“I told him that, but his machine insisted. He’s going through the data right now.”

She decided not to tell him about what had happened in the ship. It would only worry him. Besides, it was hard enough explaining the rest of it.

“Magic.”

“He wants me to be a student.”

Her dad raised a hand to his face as if to rub his eye again, but thought better of it.

“What kind of magic?”

“I don’t know. I thought you could help me figure that out. Aiden will want an answer within a few days.”

“On whether you’ll study magic or not?”

“Yes.”

“Does it cost money?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure he’s the real Mage?”

“He showed me his spaceship.”

He was silent, fixing her with a stare.

“I suppose you aren’t doing drugs. If you were, you wouldn’t be telling me any of this.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What? You’ve been in the big city for two months now. A parent’s got to wonder.”

“They’re easier to get in Terremain.” She was lying, of course. She had no idea what went down in either city. He gave her a hard look.

“So, magic.” Apparently magic was easier for him to believe than her doing drugs in the Terremain gutter.

“Yeah. Magic. I thought I’d go ask the Internet about it.”

He began to pace. Slowly. A ponderous step here, another retreating. In those small steps, she saw the return of her father.

“Magic.” He said again, and turned back to his room. His hand reached out, fingers curled as if to type while walking.

“I’ll grab us some dinner, then?” she asked his retreating back.

Something that wasn’t pizza, she thought. She took the rotting boxes to the garbage on her way out.

She found Chinese instead of pizza, and set the take-out on the kitchen counter. Roused by the noise, her dad emerged from the dark, scooped some into a bowl, and retreated. She took his preoccupied look as a good sign, and took her dinner to her room.

The Internet, as it happened, did not have much. There were a lot of theories, formulated on forums at great and dubious speculation. Conspiracy theories aside, the common agreement, which followed what she remembered of the official history, went something like this:

The Mages arrived into this world when their old world became uninhabitable, slicing through the dimensional boundary with their black ships. With them came knowledge, advanced technology, and magic. Their magic had an elemental base, which had less to do with chemistry than with the old definitions of the word: the Greco-Roman element wheel and its four elements was mentioned frequently. On one forum, the five Chinese elements surfaced.

There were more elements that mythology provided—Terremain had an Electric Mage, if she remembered right—which had people speculating on how many elements there were, exactly.

Lyarne had three Mages: Fire, Water, and Earth. That agreed with the set-up at the memorial: the fountain, the trees, and the burning names.

She chewed her chow mein, thinking, then searched for video.

Bingo.

Except for the occasional news coverage, most video was taken from cell phones. One showed a teleport: a man walked up a street in the rain, backed by a lighted boutique’s display. He looked up, stiffened, and was gone.

Right. Very convincing. She played it again, watching the reflection.

If it was edited, she couldn’t tell.

Her chair creaked as she leaned back. She swivelled it back and forth with her toe.

She didn’t feel very magical. If she did have magic, the Mage would have his work cut out teaching her. How did one train in magic, anyway? Would she have to learn the Mages’ language? Granted, she’d never tried to set things on fire with her mind. For that, she’d opted for a more traditional approach. Usually, her mom had given her the metaphorical matches. When she was back from base duty, anyway.

She turned back to her food before it cooled. Cold bok choy was just gross.

A few hours later, there was a quiet knock on her door. Her dad poked his head around and shambled in. Her chair sank as he leaned on it, reaching over her shoulder—much as the Mage had done earlier—and pointed at a video link.

“This one’s pretty cool.”

She clicked on it. They watched as a car splashed water over a crowded curb, and one of the people splashed the water back. When it was over, he squeezed her shoulder.

“I hope you use your powers for good, whatever they are.”

He believed her. That was nice. She’d half-expected more denial, considering the circumstances. What had he found on his search?

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked.

“Dunno. Just thought it was what a father should say. By the way, it’s 2 a.m. on a school night.”

“You’re sending me to bed?”

“Yep.”

“But this is important.”

“It can wait. I wrote a note for your school, excusing you from any more recruitment calls.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course I can. I’m your father.” He paused. “You should probably know that I told them we were Buddhist.”

“Nice.”

His arms dropped down around her shoulders in an awkward hug.

“Get to bed.”

CHAPTER 4

The next morning Mieshka found a stack of paper lying across her keyboard, neatly stapled. It was a university publication, ten years old. ‘The Children of the Stars’ took the title page in large, boldfaced text, accompanied by a picture of three black ships hovering above Lyarne’s old skyline.

She recognized one.

Hiding it inside textbooks and behind desks, she devoured the article during morning classes. It confirmed the basis of what she already knew about Mages: their original landing on this world, the Lost Technology, the elemental base to their magic, etc. She pored over the information until Mrs. Murphy hovered too close for comfort, and she was forced to flip the textbook’s page over the article.

At lunch, Robin found her in the cafeteria with the article spread out under one hand and a tray of untouched food by the other.

“Where were you yesterday?” Robin asked.

Mieshka glanced up from the article. It took a moment for Robin to focus.

“I went back to the… Mage’s place.” It felt weird calling it a memorial in the school cafeteria. “You didn’t text?”

“Murphy has my phone.”

They shared a quiet, knowing look. Robin set her tray down across from her, sliding onto the bench seat. When Robin didn’t touch the food, Mieshka raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” Just how tired did Mieshka look today? She hadn’t missed that much sleep. Her eyes felt strained, but she suspected it was from the article’s tiny print.

Robin shifted. She didn’t meet Mieshka’s eyes. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Weirder than normal?”

“Yeah. What is that, anyway?” Robin pointed at the article.

Mieshka showed her the front page. Robin raised an eyebrow.

“Is this about missing last year? Honestly, you didn’t miss much.”

Technically, Mieshka had not missed any, but there was a substantial disparity between Terremain and Lyarne’s curriculum.

“No. Something happened yesterday.” Mieshka dropped her voice low, glancing around. They were at a center table, but the clattering of trays and the buzz of conversation would mask what she had to say. She leaned closer to Robin, as if they could have a conspiring huddle with the table between them. “I met the Fire Mage yesterday. He said I might have magic.”

She still couldn’t bring herself to admit she had magic. After the incident in the chair, she wasn’t sure what she thought about it. The tracking spell hadn’t been scary, at least, but the Phoenix’s words kept circling her mind.

Why had it been waiting for her?

“You’re shitting me.” Robin had frozen, a forkful of macaroni halfway to her open mouth.

“I’m not shitting. I went back to the memorial yesterday, and this dude walked in with a magic tracking device. It pointed at me.”

The macaroni didn’t move.

“You have magic?”

“I’m not sure I believe it.”

Robin set the fork back onto the plate.

“You sure you’re not shitting me?”

“Unless I hit my head yesterday. He gave me his phone number.”

“Is that how Mages get girls?”

“
Robin!
”

Robin bit her laugh into a grin. Then her eyes looked above Mieshka. Someone cleared their throat behind her.

“You’re Meese, right?”

He was about Mieshka’s height, if she’d been standing, and had an Asian look to him—Chinese, if she had to guess. His jeans were loose and faded, and his shoulders seemed a little slim under his sweatshirt. The edge of his food tray pressed against his abdomen. Mieshka recognized him from some of her classes.

She forced a smile.

“Sorry, I can’t remember your name.”

“I’m Chris.” He met her eyes. “You’re a refugee, right?”

Mieshka’s smile vanished. He took that as an answer.

“I saw you run out of class yesterday. I’m from Trent. Mind if I join you?”

Trent. South-East
, she thought. It had been one of the first cities to fall. Her hands felt cold, all of a sudden. She sat upright, suddenly very aware of him.

“Of course not,” Robin said, ignoring Mieshka’s stiff look.

“Thanks.” His tray clacked down beside Mieshka. She reluctantly shuffled her stuff over to make room.

“So,” said Robin, who leaned her elbows on the table, “do you know anything about magic?”

Hunched over her backpack, Mieshka froze. Robin went for the jugular. Always.

“Magic?” he asked.

“Yes, magic. Stuff that powers the shields.”

Somehow, she didn’t think this was the conversation Chris had expected. Mieshka returned to her plate, stirring ketchup in with the macaroni. Beside her, Chris had gone very still.

“Why do you want to know about… that?”

“Just curious. Why’d you want to sit with us?”

Looking over, Mieshka saw that he was busy poking his potatoes. Reading Chris’s stiff shoulders and the bow of his head, Mieshka forgave Robin. Whatever else she did, she knew how to get results.

“I thought we studied Mages last year,” he said.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Mieshka said. His fork paused, stabbed through a carrot.

“You didn’t answer mine.” He looked up, meeting Mieshka’s stare.

Fair point. Her eyes narrowed. If Robin could be blunt, so could Mieshka.

“Because I met the Fire Mage yesterday, and he offered me an apprenticeship. Your turn.”

They had a momentary staring contest. Mieshka tried not to blink.

“I saw you run out yesterday. You have magic?”

“You saw me run.” Mieshka raised an eyebrow. Across the table, Robin leaned forward, propping her head on her fists. Her grin grew as she watched the exchange.

Chris faltered. “I thought you might be a refugee, too. We might have something in common.”

“You want to be friends?”

Robin’s foot nudged her shin. Maybe ‘friend’ wasn’t the right word.

Chris straightened up.

“I know a bit about magic,” he said, “but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell.”

“What? You can’t leave us hanging.” Robin’s growing grin faltered.

“If I tell you, will you go on a date with me?” He was looking at Mieshka.

‘Friend’ had definitely not been the right word. Her smile sank off her face. She had zero interest in dating. It was very far down on her priority list.

Besides, she didn’t know this guy.

“She will,” Robin said at the same time as Mieshka’s dry ‘No’.

Mieshka turned her glare on Robin. Chris’s choice of seating crowded her elbows. She hunched over her plate like a hawk over prey, exchanging a glare with Robin. Chris looked between them, measuring the silent battle.

Apparently, he decided Robin would win.

“There’s this guy,” he said. “I’ve heard he can move water.”

“The Water Mage?” Robin asked.

“No. One of us. Around my area, he’s pretty well known. Kind of scary, actually. He worked for the Water Mage. Makes sure things don’t get…… nasty.”

Chris looked between them again. Robin folded her hands primly on the tabletop.

“I’m not sure that information is date-worthy. Anything else?” she said.

“Well,” He dropped his voice low. They all leaned in. “You know how much water is in a person, right?—” He paused. For effect, Mieshka thought. “—I hear he can pick people up and move ‘em around.”

The buzz of the cafeteria faltered. A plate dropped in the kitchen. The table was quiet.

“You’re shitting me,” Robin said. When he didn’t answer, she went on: “Anything else?”

“Not really, no.”