I stand at the edge of a cliff, staring into the dark heart of the approaching squall while brilliant lightning rips across the sky, illuminating the ravenous waves below, waiting to welcome me.Sometimes I wonder why I disassociate into the storm, why I feel safest in its violent and destructive path. If I had to guess, it’s the perverse comfort of inevitability—there’s nowhere to hide, no prayer or plea the storm will answer. Nothing stands in the way of impending wrath. So when the black clouds finally swallow the sun, I welcome the devastation like I’ve been waiting for it all along.
“Take a break,” Eileen barks, jolting me out of my daydream. I look at her and crook my eyebrow. “You’re scaring off the tips with whatever… this is.” She motions at my face to emphasize her point. “Take one of my smokes, sort out your shit, and come back with your tits up.” She throws a pack of cigarettes at me and practically shoves me out the back door.
I lean against the crumbling brick wall and light up, and soon the burn of tobacco and nicotine overpowers the odor wafting from the dumpster. Bitter smoke surrounds me even as my breath fogs the air, creating a mirage between me and the real world that’s nearly as convincing as my daydreams. Maybe that’s why I don’t immediately notice the two shining eyes peering at me from the shadows.
“Sorry little friend, I’m all out tonight.” I can practically imagine the little raccoon pouting as its small grumble of complaint makes my lips twitch, the most emotion I’ve been able to show all night. It blinks slowly, and a staring contest ensues between us as the cigarette smoke floats into the night. A scuffling sound at the other end of the alleyway startles us. When I turn back to the shadows once more, my little friend is nowhere in sight. With a deep sigh, I inhale the last of the cigarette and drop it on the damp pavement. Just as I’m snuffing it out with my shoe, another noise—closer this time—draws my gaze to the approaching silhouette. I’m immediately on guard, the fleeting calm a distant memory as I recognize who’s just interrupted my break.
“Nyx,” Augustine greets casually, as if it’s not fucked up that she’s here, in the middle of the night, in front of the employee-only entrance to my place of work. She opens her mouth to say something, but I put my hand up to stop her.
“I don’t care. Whatever you’re about to say, I could not give less of a shit. I’ll tell you what I told your sister when she fucking ambushed me while I was trying to get food—get fucked.”
“Aw, that’s cute,” she tuts with a derisive sneer, all pretense of courtesy and manners gone in a flash. “She thinks she can scare off the big bad wolf with a few naughty words.” I shake my head and try to pull back door open, only for her to slam it shut, locking me outside.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I hiss, whirling to face her.
“My problem is that some prissy little witch isn’t cooperating, and I can’t leave this shithole until she gets with the fucking program,” she answers coldly. “So now here I am, surrounded by God knows what smells and mystery liquids, trying to get you to shut up and listen for a minute.”
“I—what?” I blink rapidly, stuck between fight and flight, struggling to make sense of what the hell is happening right now.
“That’s better. Now, my sister usually does this part while holding hands over a nice cup of tea, but you seem like a no-nonsense kind of kid, so I think you can handle a more direct approach.” I bristle at her tone, but she continues undeterred.
“First things first: magic is real. You’re a witch. Congratulations.” She pats me on the shoulder with a heavy hand and I shrug it off with distaste. I fucking hate being touched by strangers.
Her words permeate the rush of anger coursing through me and I laugh obnoxiously. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? Of all the stupid shit people try to sell around here, that’s gotta be in the top five, at least. Now, in case you didn’t hear me clearly earlier, you and your sister can go fuck yourselves, and get thefuck out of Lynden.” Turning my back on her proves to be a mistake, because in the next moment, a wall of flames descends across the alleyway, blocking me in. I fling my arms up to shield my eyes from the sudden, blinding light as my jaw drops, futilely attempting to rationalize what I’m seeing despite the undeniable, oppressive heat rolling through the crisp night air.
“Are you listening now, little witch?” Augustine gloats with an edge of cruel humor. I turn to face her, waiting for the punchline to whatever fucked up joke this is. “Now, I loathe repeating myself so pay attention.” The flames roar and lick at my back, consuming all the oxygen my brain needs to understand what the fuck is going on.
“First: magic is real. It exists. Exhibit A,” she says, gesturing to the rolling fire behind me. “Second: the Registrar says you’re a witch, one of the many Orders that can wield magic. Which means you will eventually be able to wield magic. If you don’t blow us up first, that is. Which leads me to my third point: you are now required to train in the proper use of magic to avoid risking exposure to humans, blah, blah, blah. I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in before we move on.” She crosses her arms across her chest and looks at me, her tense posture radiating impatience.
Magic.
Witch.
Humans.
Nothuman.
A shaky exhale forces itself from my chest.
“Okay great. Now,” she continues as if my reality isn’t crumbling around me. “There are two places to learn how to wield magic, one for light wielders and one for dark wielders. Normally, when the Registrar records your twentieth birthday, it also weighs and measures your soul to determine what kind of wielder you are and which school you’re going to. Fuck if Iknow how it all works, so don’t bother asking. You, little witch, have equal potential to wield both light and dark magic. Which is why both me and my sister are here to retrieve you. Lucky you, getting the best of both worlds,” she says with a smug grin in the face of my stunned silence. “So now what, you ask? Well, you tell us which school you want to go to, and we take you there, and then you learn how to not blow anyone up. Sound good?” She asks casually. Like it’s a matter of deciding between paper or plastic, and not glitching in the face of overwhelming evidence that the certainties I’ve clung to my entire life—the truth about myself and the world around me, haven’t just gone up in smoke.
She snaps her fingers in my face suddenly and I flinch at the small flame that springs to life from her fingertip. “You still with me, little witch? Because we’re on a deadline, and I want to get the fuck out of this cesspit.” She wipes something off the shoulder of her jacket with a sneer. “How the hell can you live here, anyway?” Her blasé comment reminds me of one thing that hasn’t changed in the last few minutes—the miserable, awful truth of living in Lynden.
“Kind of hard to leave when you have no way of getting out,” I answer with a wooden voice.
“Yeah, well. Just call me your fairy godmother. Bippity, boppity, bitch let’s fucking go,” she says, and the sudden absence of heat behind me makes my skin prickle. “Are you going to walk by yourself or do I have to compel you?” It takes effort to unfreeze my limbs enough to take a step back towards the entry of the alleyway. Before I can take another, a sharp whistle draws my attention to the melting lock on the employee door, and it springs open.
She gestures for me to go inside. “I’ll give you a minute to get your shit while I make a call, then we’re leaving.” The smell of molten metal and smoke cling to me as I pass her, following me down the dark hallway. Once I’m alone, adrenaline floodsmy bloodstream as my heart pounds, my movements jerky as if I’ve been electrocuted. Picking up my pace until I’m practically running, I go to the back room and grab my backpack and hoodie, nearly knocking Eileen over when I burst through the door to the bar.
“What’s up your ass?” she demands.
“I have to go. I’m sorry—I need to leave, right now.” I explain breathlessly before shoving past her.
“What the shit—Nyxie!” she calls out after me, and I burst through the front door, wincing as I hear it slam against the wall. Then I’m running away from whatever the fuck just happened. I may be young, but I've lived through enough shit to learn the devil you know is always preferable to the devil you don’t.
4
NYX
