Penelope and Adeline
Adeline and Penelope are going on their very first solo adventure. Well, almost solo adventure. Penelope’s older sister Monica is coming with to chaperone their trip across the strait and to an island known for monster spawning. On the way, they meet a stranger in the woods—one that will test their skills, knowledge, and friendship.
“Are you sure, Adeline?” Mother fussed over my cloak, brows furrowed as she looked over me again. Because of her, I weighed almost twice as much as I normally did. Along with my cloak, she made me take two extra packs to my belt for a total of five. I kept one for snacks, one for gems, and one empty in case I found anything I wanted to take home with me. Now there was a fourth with first aid equipment and a fifth with candles, flint and steel, and a small bit of rope.
The backpack she was shoving at me was sure to be filled with far more than was necessary.
“Mother, it’s just a trip across the strait. You used to take me with you all the time.”
“Yes,” she huffed. “I used to take you. You didn’t go on your own.”
“Penny and Monica will be with me.”
Her white brows unfurrow a bit. While I was sure Penelope being there didn’t make her feel better, Monica would. Being an accomplished mage, she would be the one chaperoning us on this trip. She wouldn’t make the decisions, and she wouldn’t interfere unless she had to. It was up to me and Penny to make this trip a success.
She pulled me into a hug. It was so tight I thought she might snap me in half. Somehow, I always forgot she was younger than the white hair let on. After dealing with some weird time-curse thing when she was younger, all of her hair was bleached of color. It went well with her soft brown skin and eyes so dark they almost looked black.
When she pulled back, those dark eyes were misting.
I wanted to roll mine. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
“You sound just like she did.” Father came to the door with a small bag in hand. He seemed to take up all the space despite being around the same height as Mother. His hair was dark brown and soft, streaked with red undertones—a reflection of my own hair. His skin was pale but tanned from steady work outside. He smiled, laugh-lines wrinkling around his eyes. “Though I’ll admit, you’re a bit younger than she was.”
“I’m fifteen, Father.” I sighed, trying not to make them feel rushed, but wanting to get moving. “That’s more than old enough. Madam Carla went when she was just twelve and she made it back just fine.”
Father shook his head, the small smile growing a little. “Madam Carla is a once in a generation mage. Don’t hold the worry against your mother.”
“I won’t,” I said. “Mother, Father, I really—” One of my pouches started to glow, a gentle buzz going along with it. I fished the pocket watch out, clicking the crown. “See? I’m gonna be late if I don’t start now.”
“Well, hold on for just a second.” I held in another sigh, fighting the urge to stomp my foot. “Take this with you. It’ll help you on your way.” He held out the bag in his hands and I all but snatched it away.
“Thank you so much,” I said as I leaned in to kiss them on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a week, I love you both so much. Bye!”
I turned on heel and started sprinting down the street, eager to get going.
“Be safe,” Mother yelled.
“And be sure to use what I gave you if you need it!” Father added.
I rolled my eyes. At fifteen, I was hardly younger than them when they were going far more dangerous things than crossing the strait for some kobold teeth. In fact, I remember Mother telling me about how she got caught up in a Heroes Journey at seventeen because she couldn’t mind her own business.
They were just worrywarts. Nothing I wasn’t used to.
When I finally slowed down, I was out of breath, but at Penny’s house. She was only a few streets over, but Mother and Father always seemed to act like she was on the other side of the province, thirty miles away.
Penny was receiving the same treatment at her front door, only her father, Ken, was actively crying while her dad, Marcus, was patting him on the shoulder in an attempt to console him.
“I’ll be fine,” Penny said. She gave them a radiant smile and gestured to Monica leaning on the wall next to them. “She’ll be with us the whole time. Nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll be honest,” Marcus said. He scanned her, taking in her cloak, backpack, and staff. “I wish you would take your old staff. It’s trusty. Stable.”
“I’ll have to break this one in sooner or later,” she said, smiling at her handy work. It was nearly as tall as she was, carved from dark ironwood. Wrapped around the top was a strip of bright green fabric with a few gems tied on the end of it.
Unlike me, Penny had a gift for making magical tools. All of my staves were bought and had to be rigorously broken in. Made from marblewood, it was pretty to look at. Like the name suggests, it marbled light and dark brown down its length. Though taller than it, it was easy to move around and cast my spells. However, it took time for me to use mine at all. It needed time to attune to me and imbue my magical imprint into it. This one took nearly a month to get into shape.
Penny, having made her staff from scratch, had no such problems.
I hated to admit I was jealous of her in that regard. My talents weren’t nearly as useful.
“Look,” Penny said, waving to me. “Addy’s here. We have to go now.”
“Just.” Ken sniffed hard, sucking back the snot threatening to ruin his shirt. “Just look out for each other.”
“Always do,” I said, standing next to Penny. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“Historically speaking,” Monica said, pushing off the wall. “They’ll miss us the second we turn our backs to them.”
I stood up a little straighter as Monica stood next to me. She was taller than me by a few inches, and I wasn’t short. Her black hair was pulled back in a braid at the nape of her neck, not a strand out of place. She and Penny once looked so similar to me. Same black hair and honey eyes. Same broad nose and freckles. It took a year of friendship for me to find the differences. Penny had a mole on the corner of her mouth. Monica never left the house without her staff—a tall, ironwood piece with a bright blue strip of fabric that held her gems. Penny laughed at almost anything, a perpetual smile on her face. Monica had a dry sense of humor that took some getting used to.
Now that we were older, it seemed almost funny I couldn’t tell them apart. They couldn’t be more different from one another.
“Check your packs and pouches,” Monica said. “I don’t want to come back because one of you forgot a gem or something.”
I patted myself down. All of my pouches were full, and my backpack was fully packed with a bedroll, money, rations, a waterskin, and more rope. “All good.”
Penny grinned at me, tightening her backpack. “All good.”
“Alright, then,” Monica said, turning her back to the door. “Let’s go.”
<><><><><>
The trip to the strait was about what I remembered. From our town of Doban, it took about two days of steady travel to reach the coastal town Snowmia. In between both towns was nothing but farmlands and woods.
True to her word, Monica didn’t bother us much. She hung back, letting us lead the way down the long dirt path. Farmland dotted the planes on either side of the road. On the left was a shimmering field of corn. When I was a kid, it mesmerized me. I would stand and watch it sway in the breeze, letting the smell of dirt and growing things wash over me. Even now I wanted to stop and stare as a gentle wind came down the road.
On our right, farmers worked the fields and I did stop for a moment, watching as one of them lifted their staff and pulled a row of root vegetables out and up, lifting them to a cart behind her. She did this over and over until the cart was full. When she was done, she stretched and patted her back.
“I’ll leave you behind.” Penny’s voice shook me from my revelry. She grinned at the disgruntled look I gave her. “If all you wanted was to watch some farmer’s work, we could have left half of this stuff back home.”
“No,” I grumbled. “I just find it interesting.”
“Well.” She bumped my shoulder with hers. “It’s about to get a lot more interesting. Have you ever seen a kobold?”
“Once, when I went with my mother,” I said. “They didn’t seem very strong.”
“That tracks with what I’ve read,” she said, tapping her journal. Like everyone in her family, she had a journal she liked to keep on her at all times, just in case she came across something interesting. It was a cross between a grimoire and a field notebook that she kept in a special holster on her thigh. “I wrote down some notes. Just so we don’t go in blind.”
“Good thinking.”
“Thank you, Mage Adeline.”
I giggled at the title. I’d have to work a lot harder to earn the title of Mage, rather than just being one. Only the best of the best could become one and it took rigorous training. It was a dream we had when we were kids.
“On the contrary, Mage Penelope,” I said, using my best posh voice. “You are the one deserving of thanks.”
Penny held back her laugh, though some still bled through as she tried to match my exaggerated tone. “Why Mage Adeline, I couldn’t possibly take all the credit. It was your idea, after all.”
We looked at each other and that was enough. We broke into fits of laughter, leaning on each other to stay standing. Our laughter lasted long enough for Monica to catch up to us, leveling an amused look at us.
“I supposed you giggle girls were too distracted to notice, but there’s a small shop up ahead if you wanted to go there.”
Still chuckling, we straightened. As long as I didn’t look at her again, I would be fine.
Monica was right. Too busy with each other, we didn’t notice a general store a few yards before the woods started. It didn’t look like much. A sign above the doorframe denoting it at FISK AND CHARLES SUPPLY SHOP, a curtain instead of an actual door, and a small bench outside.
Without hesitating, we headed for it. This was exactly what we wanted. A chance to do whatever came to mind. A chance to be on our own without someone two steps behind, trying to keep us safe.
Inside the shop was nicer than the outside. It had three tables in the middle filled with weapons, gear, and food. Behind a counter that spanned from the far left of the store and hooked to make an L shape on the right side, were gems. Amethysts, quarts, rubies, sapphires, garnets, pearls. More than I had seen in a long time.
Behind the counter on the right side was the register with a woman leaning back in her chair, a book propped up on her knees. She looked like she’d been through hell and back. Pale scars peppered her arms, face, and exposed shoulders under her overalls. A deep scar ran from her eyebrow and into her head, thick hair flipped just so to cover the scar.
She stood up. And up and up she towered over us. Her green eyes scanned us, looking with calculated precision as she took in our group. Penny stepped closer to me, her shoulder brushing mine. She tried to make it look casual, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.
“Welcome,” the woman said. Her voice was soft, gentle. It startled me enough that I nearly dropped my staff. “Is there something I can do for you girls?”
“Yeah,” Monica spoke from behind us, pushing past as she leaned against the counter. “Can you give me some adult time? It’s only been a few hours and I’m tired of these kids.”
“You’re not that much older than me,” Penny said. The tension released slowly as she moved further into the store. “Just three years.”
“And three years is enough for me to be tired of you already.” Monica sighed, and hopped up on the wooden desk, pouting at the woman. “You understand me, don’t you Charlie?”
Charlie chuckled, taking her seat again. “They look like eager young women. I’m sure you can figure out how to keep up.”
“Pick out a snack or two. My treat.” No sooner that the words left her mouth did Penny’s smile return. She bumped my shoulder again and headed toward the tables. “You’ll need the motivation to get through the woods.”
“Is there something in the woods we need to worry about?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. “I don’t remember the woods being too difficult.”
“Oh, they’re not. It’s just. Well.” Monica smiled and I tried not to shudder. She could be so creepy when she wanted. “It’ll be your first night out of civilization. Alone. With no one but yourselves.”
“You say that,” Penny said, looking between dried jerky and one of the cakes, “but you’ll be with us the whole time.”
“Sure, but this is your adventure. Your first adventure. You should try to do it all by yourself.”
“That’s the plan,” I said, moving around the store. I stared into the glass of the counter, taking in all of the gems. So much magic could be done with these, I thought. Not only were they here in abundance, but they were also clear and perfectly cut. The rutile could be used in a summoning. The cassiterite could be an amplifying or an offensive spell. The pearl could be used in a healing spell.
I twisted my belt around my waist, reaching for my gems. I always kept harder gems for offensive magic, but I rarely kept pearls. Mother was the best healer I knew. There was no point to it before.
I leaned down, staring at the price, and grimaced. Far more than what Mother and Father gave me when we left. I pulled out an amethyst and compared it to the one behind the counter. It wasn’t as clear, but it was well cut. Maybe if I gave her this gem and the money she might be willing to call it even.
“Anything I can help with?” Charlie’s soft voice came from high above me as I craned my neck up.
I stood, pretending to dust off my cloak to hide my burning cheeks. Something about her was so off putting. Maybe it was the easy way she spoke to Monica when most people had a hard time even looking at her.
“Y-Yeah.” I cleared my throat, trying to keep it together. My heart hammered like I’d never spoken to a service worker before. “I was wondering if you would do a trade. With me.” I set my amethyst on the counter.
She looked at it for a moment before reaching behind her and pulling a small magnifying glass from a pouch. She held the gem up to the light, turning it over in her hand. When she was done scrutinizing, she set it down and pulled something else out. A scale. She set the stone down, nodding as the numbers balanced.
“What did you want to trade this for?”
“A pearl. I also have fifty crin if that’s not enough.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “Keep your money, girl. You’re going to need it.” She pocketed the gem and leaned down, picking up one of the pearls and setting it in my hand. It was beautiful. Round and glimmering and—
“This one is too big,” I said. There was no way my amethyst was worth a pearl this large. “I can take a smaller one.”
Her smile widened as she shook her head. “This amethyst is more than fine. Not as fine as mine, but it will sell. And I promise I can make up for the loss. This is your first adventure. Along with your money, you’ll need that pearl.”
I stared at her, mouth agape. This was far more than I was expecting. I wasn’t expecting anything, actually, given all that Mother and Father were prone to tell me about the world. People are cruel, they would say. Selfish. Don’t trust them unless they prove themselves.
I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I bowed.
“Woah, hey,” she said. When I looked up, her cheeks were flushed and she was looking anywhere but me. “Think of it as a favor to Monica if it makes you feel better. You don’t—Lords above. You don’t have to bow to me.”
“I just…” I stared at the pearl, turning it in my hands. It was the most expensive thing I’d ever owned. “I just didn’t know a better way to express my gratitude.”
“Well,” she said, finally looking at me again. “Come back again. When you’ve got enough money and some to spare, come back. You can pay me the difference then.”
Penny sidled up to me, a mocking smirk on her face. “When Addy becomes Mage Adeline, we’ll be sure to pop in again.”
I blushed, shooing her away. “When that day comes, I’ll come back. Promise.” I held out my pinkie before I could stop myself. More habit than anything else.
Before I could be more mortified, Charlie linked mine with hers. Her smile was as gentle as her voice. “Promise.”
<><><><><>
The woods were freezing. While it had been chilly as we walked through the farmlands, it was manageable with our cloaks. They were long, nearly touching the ground, and fur lined. Mother had even given me a charm to keep in my pocket to help insulate. Even still, the cold seemed determined to work its way through our layers and into our bones.
Penny and I walked arm in arm, sharing warmth and whispers. The woods were eerily quiet, and we were reluctant to break it. There were rustles here and there, but nothing above a murmur. The bare trees didn’t help the creepiness of it either. They swayed silently, almost never making a sound.
“What was Snowmia like?” Penny asks. Her breath fogged in front of her and she giggled, letting out a bigger breath.
“Way bigger than Doban,” I said. “There are shops everywhere and so many boats in the harbor. Mother took me there so we could buy my first staff.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I remember Dad being a little upset she didn’t come to him instead. His rates are way cheaper.”
“I think she wanted me to see what it was like to go on an adventure. I was always bugging her about hers, after all.”
Penny nodded. “I wish Dad had said yes to me tagging along. That would have been so fun.”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “It would have been. Mother was so strict about everything I never even got to explore Snowmia. We went straight to the shop and then to the island.”
“Well, this time we call the shots, and I say we do some exploring.”
“Definitely. And since Charlie wouldn’t take my money, I still have some left to buy something.”
“I want to buy a new polish for my staff. I’m almost out and Monica—” She raised her voice a hair, to make sure the sound carried, “refuses to share with me like a good sister.”
“I refuse to share because it costs a hundred crin per ounce,” Monica said. Even she kept her voice low. “I know you would go through it in a month if you got your way.”
“I would not,” Penny muttered. “I use a normal amount. It’s a wonder her staff doesn’t dry out.”
“It’s a wonder I don’t beat you over the head.”
I stifled a laugh, turning away from Penny. It was moments like these that jealousy, quiet as it may be, reared its head. I didn’t have any siblings. When Mother gave birth to me, she nearly died. I was their one and only and while it was nice to always have their attention, it was lonely, too.
We bantered our way down the well-worn path until the sun started to set and our stomachs growled. We turned to Monica for direction who just shrugged. Right. We call the shots.
Splitting up, we scoured the nearby area. There had to be a clearing big enough for the three of us. It took longer than I hoped to find something. With almost no practical wilderness training, it took nearly thirty minutes to find a suitable area for camping and another thirty minutes to pitch our tents. Monica was gracious enough to collect firewood.
While I worked on making a fire, Penny worked on making a ward. A circle drawn with her staff on the ground, she sat inside and began to mutter the incantation. As the spell began to come together, the beryl hanging from her staff started to lose color. From a bright, shiny green to a dull grey. When she finished, it cracked in half, turning to dust before it hit the ground.
I was having less luck with the fire. The flint and steel Mother gave me was in perfect shape, but I’d never tried to start a fire at night with minimal to no light on an empty stomach. As the flint and steel hit each other again, my hands started to shake. With hunger or frustration, I couldn’t say. With one last strike, sparks flew and hit the wood. It was small, but it was starting to smolder.
Monica was no help as I tended the fire. Watching it rise and fall and nearly go out. When it got to a steady roar, I was ready to simply lay down and sleep. Who needed food when there was finally warmth?
“Uh-uh.” Monica shook her head as if she could read my mind. “You need to eat. It’s been hours and we still have another day’s worth of walking to go.”
I grumbled and cursed, but I dug into my bag. Grabbing the first things I fingers touched, I pulled out an orange, jerky, and some cheese. Good enough.
Penny sat next to me, holding her hands out to the fire. She gave Monica a frown. “We’re gonna have to keep this going all night, aren’t we?”
“Not all night. We’re all sharing a tent, so there should be enough warmth to go around. We will, however, need to keep watch. There are plenty of animals and bandits that wander these woods. If anyone approaches us and I’m not awake, wake me first.” She looked us over, softening just a little. “I’ll take first watch. After you two eat, go lay down.”
“I’ll take second watch,” I said through a mouthful of cheese. “I’m easier to wake up.”
“Whatever,” Penny said, shoving me away with a quiet laugh. “Do what you must to wake me up.”
We finished our food in silence, watching the fire crackle and dance. Penny and I stood in unison, ready to be asleep.
“I’ll wake you in three hours,” Monica said. She glanced at her pocket watch, then back at the fire. “Have a nice nap.”
We’d barely unfurled our bedrolls and blankets before we laid down, asleep within minutes.
<><><><><>
There was no such thing as good sleep in the woods. While I was asleep quickly, it was not restful. Even with a good bedroll, the ground was hard and cold. Penny was next to me but even with her warmth it didn’t seem to be enough. I tossed and turned, trying for a more comfortable position that seemed just out of my grasp. When Monica shook me awake, I was almost glad.
“I kept the fire going,” she whispered. “Just for some warmth. You can let it die if you want.”
“I’ll keep it going,” I murmured. I rubbed my eyes, trying to call up any energy. There had to be something beneficial from that nap.
I wrapped my cloak tighter as I left the tent, shivering against the cold. Squatting next to the fire, I held out my hands. This had to be the worst part of this trip so far. I could withstand a lot of discomforts, but I hated the cold. Mother had warned me, but I thought I was prepared enough.
Looking up, the sky was clear. Two full moons amidst a sea of stars illuminated the woods around us. The darkness, despite it pressing in, somehow made the woods less creepy. There was beauty in the bare branches. Life in the birdsong and skittering of animals.
My breath fogged as I let out a sigh. There was beauty, but I was also eager to get out of it as soon as possible. Maybe when we reached Snowmia I would buy some woolen clothes.
My gaze dropped to the fire again. I picked up one of the sticks to add fuel and settled down to keep watch, sitting on Monica’s unused bedroll.
It was an uneventful first hour. A few squirrels skirted the edge of the ward, but nothing else. I poked at the fire, a yawn ripping through me. It was mesmerizing to watch. The fire captivated my vision as the smell wafted toward me. Warm and gentle. Not as burnt as I thought. I held my hands out again, rubbing them together.
Another yawn escaped me and I rubbed my eyes. There was no reason for me to be so tired right now. My eyes fell to the fire again, watching the wood burn as yet another yawn sprang from me. I rubbed my eyes, trying to fight the heaviness that was starting to claim me. I was tired, but I wasn’t sleepy. I hadn’t been sleepy the entire first hour and now…
Something was wrong. Tearing my gaze from the fire took more effort than anything had before. I scanned the woods, but only for a second. The fire beckoned. It offered comfort and warmth and safety.
My eyes slid shut and I forced them back open only for them to fall again. What could I do? How did I fight this sleeping spell?
As my eyes opened again, I saw the answer. I was too tired to question it. I put all of my strength into leaning forward. If I managed to get myself off balance—
Fire singed my hands, snapping me out of the spell. I hissed, pulling my hands back. They were fine. Mostly. Nothing I couldn’t fix once we got to Snowmia.
I stood, then something hit my ankle. It snapped, the crunch of bone and sinew ringing in my ears. A scream ripped from me. A cry I hadn’t known I was capable of making—guttural and raw and helpless. My ankle burned and throbbed in time with my stinging hands.
The ground rushed to meet me, but I caught myself with my staff and right hand, biting my lip to cut off my scream. Whatever was there was enough of a problem. I didn’t need to attract more attention.
Monica rolled out of the tent, staff at the ready. She surveyed the scene, then me. Her eyes went wide as she ducked down, face draining of color as she took in my burned hands and ruined ankle.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“Someone cast a sleep spell on me,” I murmured. “I broke it then they did something to my ankle.” I didn’t dare look at it. If I looked, it would be real. If I looked, the pain would come rushing to overtake my senses.
If possible, she got paler as she focused on my ankle. “Where’s that pearl you got from Charlie?”
“My pouch. I can still—”
“No.” Her voice was firm as she looked up again, focusing on something in the distance. “Use that pearl and wake up Penny. There’s someone here and I’ll need backup.”
My hands were still shaking as I reached for the gem. It was in a small velvet bag to keep it safe, and I could hardly keep my hands still enough to untie it. I shook it free, grasping it in my now sweat drenched hands.
The incantation was clumsy, but I managed to get my voice steady enough to repeat the words Father had drilled into my head since I was young. “O Lords above, givers of life and growth and rebirth. Lords of harvest and grain and all that springs forth. Grant me the power to heal what has been broken and mend what has been lost. Grant me power to fulfil this.”
The pearl broke and crumbled in my hands as a soothing balm of magic was wrapped around me. My hands healed first, stitching themselves together around the burned skin. I would have scars, but it healed quickly, the balm moving down my chest and to my leg, taking my pain with it.
My ankle was harder. Rather than seconds, it took nearly a minute. It snapped back into place, muscle and tissue mending itself again. My skin didn’t heal as well, the power of the pearl starting to fade until it was done. My ankle was raw with new skin and itchy, but it was healed.
I stood on shaking legs, testing my ankle. It still hurt, but it could hold my weight. When we got to Snowmia, I’d have to haggle for another pearl.
In the tent, Penny was still sleeping. How she managed to not wake from my scream, I would never know. She was a heavy sleeper, but this was something else.
I felt bad about what I did to wake her up, but there wasn’t another way to get her attention. I reared back, slapping her across the face.
She jumped, grabbing her staff as she sat up. Blinking, she scowled. “What the he—”
I clamped a hand over her mouth and ignored her as she licked my palm. “There’s someone out there. Dangerous. We need to help Monica.”
Her brows shot up, but she nodded. When I took my hand away, I wiped it on her cloak.
We exited the tent, flanking Monica on either side. She was facing my attacker. The moonlight was enough to see him clearly. He was tall, maybe a little taller than me, with dark brown hair flecked with silver. His eyes glowed an unnatural blue as he stared us down. He put a hand in the pocket of his suit—his very nice, very expensive suit—and cocked his head to the side.
“You are more resilient than I thought you’d be,” he said. His voice was light. Genial. Like he hadn’t shattered my ankle a few minutes ago. “Just a few girls on their first solo outing.”
We stayed quiet, watching Monica. She stood straight, hand gripping her staff. It wasn’t at the ready; simply on the ground as she assessed him. “We don’t have anything.”
He smiled, looking down at the ward. Never had I been so grateful that Penny was better than me at something. “I beg to differ, Mage Monica.”
She stiffened at the moniker. “I’m not titled.”
“Not yet, perhaps.” He started walking along the edge of the barrier, looking at our campsite. “But you can be, even at your young age.”
“We don’t have anything,” she repeated. She never took her eyes off of him, watching for any stray movement. “Just leave us be.”
“As I said.” He stopped after making a full circle. “I beg to differ. You have something on you, Mage Monica. Something I want very dearly.”
If I hadn’t known Monica so well, I would have missed the way her shoulders tensed and her jaw set.
“Just give it to him.” Penny’s voice was soft and shaking. She held her staff in both hands like it could shield her.
“I can’t,” Monica muttered.
“It can’t be that valuable. Just—”
“I. Can’t.” she gritted out.
“Aww,” the man pouted. “Here I was hoping we could talk about it now that you’re awake.”
Monica shifted her feet, spreading them shoulder width apart with a slight bend in her knees. She lifted her staff, pointing at the man. “I’d rather die than give it to someone like you.”
He grinned, showing off his long canines. He grabbed something on his belt. A short staff. Barely two feet long. Staves like that were meant for easy, fast travel. Only bandits and children kept staves like that.
“We’re going to have to fight,” she whispered to us. “Can you do that?”
“He hurt me once already,” I said, mimicking Monica’s stance. “And I don’t think there’s a better way to get out of this.”
Monica looked at Penny, who floundered for a response. She opened her mouth then closed it. She looked at the man who still grinned as he flipped his staff up and caught it. Finally, she tightened her grip on her staff and settled into a fighting position. “What do you need us to do?”
“Keep your eyes open for an opportunity to get in a hit. Stay back and defend yourselves until then and I’ll take care of the rest. Understand?”
“Yes,” we said, keeping our eyes on the man.
He flipped his staff in the air again. “You did a remarkable job at this ward,” he said. He took a step back, pointing his staff at Monica. “Shame it only keeps out living beings.”
A spell blasted from the end of his staff, cutting through the air faster than I could see. Monica reacted first, calling up a shield in front of her. The spell dissipated, leaving only sparks between them.
“Good,” he said. “Very good.” He let out another spell, and my stomach dropped as Monica countered. Their exchange was quick and violent and— Silent. Neither of them were using incantations. Incantations kept the spell together, channeling focus and intent. Without an incantation, a mage needed excellent focus and clarity of mind to use even the most basic of spells.
Monica and this man traded blows. Water and fire. Force and shields. Back and forth. It was almost too fast for me to keep up. Without the shields Penny and I cast around ourselves we would have gotten caught in the crossfire.
The man darted around the ward, his grin still wide and wicked, as he made to hit Penny. I moved, my shield melding with hers to strengthen it. The shards of ice pushed us back but didn’t break through. His eyes widened and if possible, his grin got bigger.
“So much potential in such a small clearing,” he mused.
“Then leave us be,” Monica panted. Her stance was still strong, but I could tell she was starting to lag. “We’ll live up to our potential if you do.”
He cocked his head as if in thought. “No, I don’t think so. Of the three, I don’t think I need you.”
He held out his staff and I saw it. Monica was lagging on purpose. She lifted her staff, but unless she managed to get a spell out now, she would be hit. She used herself as bait and he was taking it.
Penny was behind Monica, the man out of sight. I had the shot. I pointed my staff, muttering the incantation for the only offensive spell I knew. “First fires of dawn, I call upon thee. Light this night with your flames. Burn this foe with your might. Turn to ash all those who stand in your way. First—”
What if you kill him?
The thought rocketed through me, taking my breath. What if I did? Could I live with that? He was clearly trying to kill Monica, but could I return the favor? He’d already hurt me once and I was prepared to hurt him back but killing him was different. Permanent. No number of pearls could fix that.
“Monica!” Penny yelled, lifting her staff as she started to say something, but it was too late. I was too late. The man’s spell shot across the clearing, right at Monica’s chest. Monica held up her staff but couldn’t cast fast enough. A bullet of force split her staff in two, burrowing into her chest.
Time slowed as she fell.
Her cloak and shirt tore, fabric shredding and flying. Her cracking sternum echoed around the clearing. It was a wet, crunching sound that sprayed blood and bone shards. Something else went flying, but time was speeding back up as she hit the ground, her skull cracking against the hardpacked dirt.
I was at her side before I realized I’d moved. Penny hovered on her other side, hands just above the wound as she tried to figure out how to help. My breath hitched, trying to make sense of what was in front of me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. No one was supposed to get this hurt.
“Good luck, potential Mages.” My head whipped at the sound of the man’s voice. He offered me a sharp toothed grin and vanished into the darkness.
Part of me wanted to pursue him. I already screwed up by not taking the shot. It would only get worse if he escaped, but…
“Where’s the pearl?” Penny’s voice was harsh against my ears. I’d never heard her sound like that before. She held out her hand. “Where is it?”
“I-I used it when—”
“What?” A shiver ran down my spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold. In this moment, I felt less silly about confusing her and Monica before. Her dagger-like stare was more than a match for Monica’s. “Why?”
“My ankle—”
“Your ankle?” She shook her head, turning back to Monica. Her breathing was shallow and becoming more choked by the second. There had to be something we could do. Even if we had the pearl, I wasn’t sure how much it could have done.
I emptied my pouches, hoping for a gem I could use. Some gems were multi-purpose. While it wouldn’t be as good as a pearl, if I had aventurine or emerald I could try to heal her. Opal, citrine, jasper, fluorite—nothing. There was nothing.
Monica coughed, spraying blood across her face and running down her chin. Penny held her hand, gripping it like she might give her some of her life. Tears ran freely down her face as she sobbed. Somehow, more than anything else, that scared me the most. Penny simply didn’t cry. No amount of pain even made her misty, but now. Now she wailed over Monica. Leaned over her and brushed hair out of Monica’s face.
My hand fell from the gems. If even Penny had given up, what was there left for me to do.
I scooped up my gems (such useless, worthless rocks) and shoved them into my bag. As I did, something hard brushed against my knuckles. A bag. The same some I grabbed from Father without looking at it.
Inside was an orb. No, not just an orb. A gem. Moonstone. White and blue and iridescent. There was also a note in the bag.
Good luck on your adventure, Addy. I know you’ll do well, but if you run into trouble use this. Think of home and that’s where you’ll be.
A sob wrenched from my chest. This was it. This was the something. I hadn’t ruined everything.
I grabbed Monica’s other hand and clutched the moonstone with my other. I thought of my father. Strong and dependable and loving. I thought of my mother. Smart and tenacious and proud. I thought of home. Our cottage with not enough space but always enough love. Our kitchen that was never quite clean. Our life and memories.
The gem started to glow. A small spark from within that spread across the orb and out and around us and then—
We were weightless. We drifted through nothing, numbness in place of pain and memory and sorrow and then—
We were in my home. On the dining room floor staring up at my parents. They were moving before we could speak.
Mother dropped down and began assessing Monica. She ripped Monica’s shirt open, looking closer at the wound. It was worse in the light. A chunk of bone right where the bullet hit had been completed shredded, leaving jacked edges and a clear look at her heart. It was beating so slowly.
Mother nodded and got up, heading out the back door. In the same breath, Father knelt down. Next to him was a bowl of pearls. He held one hand over the bowl and leveled his staff over Monica. “O Lords above, givers of life and growth and rebirth. Lords of harvest and grain and all that springs forth. Grant me the power to heal what has been broken and mend what has been lost. Grant me power to fulfil this.”
Her blood slowed and started to pump toward her heart. Sinew and muscle and tendons began to regrow and reattach. Bit by bit, her stern started to repair itself until the bone was whole once again. Her skin stretched and grew and stretched more until it was a thick, ropy scar across her chest.
He repeated the incantation over and over until all of the pearls were dust in the air and Monica’s breathing started to even out.
Every part of me recoiled at the sight. I wanted to look away, but I choked down the bile that threatened to paint the floor and watched. I had to watch. There was no other way.
Just as Father finished, Mother returned. She had two potions with her. A soothing potion to help dull the pain and the other was a sleeping potion. She slid her arm around Monica’s shoulders and sat her up. With steady hands I’d watched all my life, she poured the potions into Monica’s mouth.
Monica took a deep breath, then coughed. It was a wet, rough cough. One full of mucus and blood, but when she settled, the color had finally returned to her cheeks.
Mother laid her on the floor again and sighed. Monica was safe now. She was stable.
I leaned over and finally threw up.
<><><><><>
Monica would not wake up. She lay in bed and slept and slept. She was healed as much as possible, but there were some things even magic couldn’t help. What color she had gained was starting to fade after a week. Not even Mother could figure out what was wrong.
Penny didn’t leave her side. She sat in a chair next to Monica’s bed and read to her. It was something Monica had done for Penny when she was sick in bed.
I visited every day. Penny and I didn’t speak during these visits. I sat in the chair next to the door while she read to Monica. When the silence between us became too much, I left.
After two weeks had passed, their parents stopped me in the living room on the way to Monica. They looked so tired, deep bags taking up residence under their eyes. Ken’s normally impeccable posture was slouched, and Marcus’s was far more rumpled than usual.
“We really appreciate you coming to visit like this,” Ken said. We sat at the kitchen table as Marcus poured cups of coffee. “I know it’s been difficult since everything happened.”
“It’s the least I can do,” I said. I stared at my cup and tried to remember how much I loved coffee, but the feeling was muted and distant.
“How… How are you holding up, Addy?” Marcus asked. “I know it was a lot for you.”
Before I could answer, my back went rigid as Penny’s scoff. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked at me. “What could have been a lot for you? It’s not like you watched your sister almost die.”
“Penelope,” Ken warned.
She still stared, ignoring his warning. “What was it like, Adeline? Could you even imagine?” I tried to answer but fell short of a response. There was nothing I could say.
“Penelope, that’s enough,” Ken said. His voice was firm, but Penelope never took her eyes off of me. Something was building behind her eyes. Something heavy and dark.
“What would you even know about that? You don’t have anyone like this in your life. You don’t know what the bond I have with my sister is like. I once said we were like sisters, but right now I can’t imagine anything further from the truth.” That something behind her eyes broke, a damn bursting open. “I can’t imagine loving someone like you, Adeline. You’re selfish and unreliable and cowardly—”
“Penelope!” Ken and Marcus stood as their voices barked in unison. Penny ignored them.
“You’re the reason my sister won’t wake up!”
There. There it was. The quiet part we had been dancing around. The real reason I had been visiting. Not just because I wanted to make sure she was okay, but because it was my fault she ended up comatose. If I had taken the shot, she would be sitting with us now.
I knew her words to be true, but my breath hitched anyway, catching in my throat. My chest tightened as my heart seized, stuttering at her words. The room narrowed until it was just her and me. Just Penelope and Adeline.
Penelope and I said things to each other all the time that we didn’t mean, but this was different. There would be no walking back from this accusation. This fact.
As my breathing staggered, her face went pale. Her brows shot to her hairline in shock of her own words. She took a step back, as if physically moving would distance herself from what she had said. As if she could run away from the hurt.
I stood, pushing my unfinished cup of coffee away. “Thank you for the coffee.”
Penelope, who had never stopped studying me, watched as I walked out of the kitchen, out of the house, out of her life.
If she had said something I would have stopped. If she had called after me or asked me where I was going. If she had attempted an apology or a guilt trip. Anything.
There was nothing. Just the growing chasm between us built on the fact that I ruined her sister’s life.
The door shut quietly behind me and, like so many times before, I left Penelope’s house.