Twenty-Eight
Kallie
Belladonna gives us a nod in greeting while finishing up with a customer. Compulsion pulls me to navigate the rows of flowers. Callum follows close behind, looking around the shop, his gaze far away, like a memory is breaching the surface.
I find my way over to the peonies, every color littering the tables, but a faint sound pulls me away. My eyes begin sweeping the store in earnest.
“What is it?” Callum asks, seeming to notice my piqued interest.
“Shhh,” I spit, my hand mindlessly batting down the air between us. It’s a faint hum, singing to me from somewhere near. “You don’t hear that?” I question, my eyebrows twitching together. On alert, his hand finds the hilt of the knife sheathed at his side.
Following the song, I weave in and out of the plants, as it appears I’m the only one listening, the mysterious sound only speaking to my soul. I find myself blindly going to the back, where we were sitting just last night. A small door appears to my right, the indescribable hum coming from behind it. When my hand reaches for the doorknob, Callum’s shadows form a wall, denying me access.
“Not in there,” he commands, his voice cold.
“That’s where it’s coming from,” I explain, my irritation imminent. Neither of us back down, prepared to hold our ground with whatever means necessary. Belladonna’s figure comes into view in my peripheral.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to go in there,” I say, my gaze unwavering. I see her head slightly nod in understanding. Can she hear it too? I wonder.
She rounds our unmoving bodies until her feet are planted just in front of the door. Her hand brushes against the wooden surface, the sound of lock after lock unlatching attempts to cover the persistent hum, but not completely.
It grows louder, thrumming like the beat of a war drum. As the last lock is undone, the door swings open. I don’t know what I expected to find, maybe someone chained, hung by the rafters, begging anyone who could hear them for mercy. But what I discover causes my head to tilt in confusion. Sitting before me are two tables of poppies. Pitch-black poppies. Petals as dark as night fade down the stem, only the faintest green at the tips of the leaves and stem.
Why keep these locked away? The question plagues me as I hesitantly step toward the tables. The song thrums so loudly it drowns out the thought and blocks another from entering. Before I can think better of it, I raise a finger, reaching toward the table. The leaf I’m closest to reaches back, slightly wrapping around my outstretched finger, like it’s been waiting for me, caressing me with a feathery touch. I pull back, and it retracts.
Nobody utters a word. I faintly feel Callum grip my shoulders and guide me out the door. The sound of the locks clicking back into place breach the white noise. I steal a glance over my shoulder, seeing the door vanish into the wall. Nobody speaks until Benny walks through the door, a box of what I’m assuming are forest buns in his hand.
“Hello, darling,” Belladonna says, embracing Benny. “You know we can’t eat this before training.” She raises an eyebrow at him.
“Oh, one won’t hurt, dear,” he insists.
“I did make him a promise,” I say, coming to his defense. When Benny opens the box, a laugh erupts out of me, everyone’s faces going still.
“I’m sorry,” my apology comes out in a fit of laughter. Finally, I collect myself and look at each of their curious eyes. “These are forest buns?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Yes?” Benny confirms, his response wary with hints of caution.
“These,” I begin, plucking one from the box, “are cinnamon rolls.” I finish my statement with a bite. The taste of cinnamon and icing dance along my tongue, and a moan threatens to escape as I savor the flavors.
“These are delicious.” I beam with a mouthful.
“See, told you,” he whispers to Donni. She lets out a sigh of defeat, taking one from the box, and the other two follow suit, and it isn’t until we’re all finished that we say our goodbyes, and I follow Belladonna out the door.
“Callum tells me you hold the power of fire,” Donni states while I’m fighting for my damn life up this mountain. She doesn’t even look winded. Meanwhile, I’m debating on throwing myself off the side just to get the throbbing in my legs to stop. Why we didn’t portal is beyond me. This is training all in itself. And it fucking sucks.
“I do,” I quip, trying to conserve oxygen. My eyes are laser focused on the ground, distracting myself from the raging fire flaming in my lungs. That might not have been the best move, since I run headfirst into Donni. Losing my balance, I accept the inevitable and let gravity have at it. I bite back the tinge of pain the rocks cause when they embed themselves into my palms but revel in the instantaneous relief from being off my feet. Deeply inhaling the delectable air—silently promising myself to never take it for granted again—it also gives me a moment to enjoy the scenery. It all looks so different up here. Quiet. Serene.
“Well, get up. We don’t have all day.” And just like that, my reprieve is short-lived. I do as she says, my legs protesting with every movement.
“I feel like I should elaborate on something,” I begin, following her the last few steps to the top of the mountain. “Before Callum brought me here, I was kidnapped—as I’m assuming you know. Well, what I didn’t tell him was, when I was there, something happened. I don’t know if it was a fluke, but you should know, just in case.” I wait a moment before continuing, “Along with the fire, I also was able to wield vines. Plants.” The confession leaves me in one breath.
For a moment, I think she didn’t hear me, then she asks, “Callum doesn’t know?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I answer truthfully.
“Interesting.” And she leaves it at that.
We’ve been up here for what seems like hours. “Try again,” Donni barks. Lost is the kind, caring florist I met yesterday, and in her place…a brutal hard ass.
“I’ve been trying,” I whine.
“Try harder!” Her command falls on deaf ears. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” My admission should’ve been obvious, seeing as I haven’t gotten anywhere all day, but I felt like it should be mentioned, just in case.
“What happened before when your powers came to fruition?” She’s been pacing in that same spot for a while. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a Belladonna-sized line in the grass.
“I was angry. Callum has a particular talent in pissing me off.” That doesn’t seem to shock her in the slightest. “I’d been kidnapped, beaten, stabbed. Threatened with a fate I had already survived. And then, I kinda just snapped.”
“Emotions drive power.” At this point, I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or thinking out loud—which is something I found she does a lot—but then she starts circling me, finger resting on her chin. “Think of a memory. One that brings you great joy, sorrow, hurt, pain. Anything to use to fuel the fire.” Literally , I want to add, but this doesn’t seem like the time for jokes. A tingling feeling flashes in the back of my mind, gone so fast it was like I had imagined it.
There are an infinite number of things I could use. Hell, the list that I couldn’t use would be shorter. “Close your eyes. Focus.”
Goddess, this is only day one. Give me a fucking minute. But I don’t say that—no matter how much I want to. Letting out a huff of frustration, I do what I’m told. If I would’ve known I’d be a damn puppy dog obeying orders, I would’ve never— I stop myself, knowing it didn’t matter what I wanted. Callum would’ve taken me anyway. And I can’t ever forget that.
Shuffling through all the terrors I’ve kept locked away, ones that were not to be disturbed and forgotten about altogether, I stop when that unfortunate day from all those years ago comes to the forefront. The helpless, weak girl who died that day lying on that bed. The one who wished for someone to save her, who was a crumbled, broken mess and then burned into nothing. I don’t let it take hold, the image forever burned into my memory but never to be relived.
But it pushes back, no matter how much I will it away. And now, who I am, who I’ve become is a phoenix who rose from those ashes of the miserable dying version of myself. My body fills, like an overflowing river before the dam breaks.
And it does. The wood splinters and cracks, all the water rushing forward, pushing through, free-falling into the next open space. My eyes spring open, and fire makes blazing trails up my arms, flames dance in my palms, and my whole world is set ablaze.
“That’s it,” Belladonna praises from behind me. When she comes back around to face me, something changes in her expression, but I don’t have time to question it. “Form a ball of flames,” she orders.
I do, barely thinking of the act, like my body already knew exactly what to do. Maybe it has this whole time. Something that seemed so foreign not so long ago, powers I would only read about in books, has become second nature to me now. The ball forms with ease, taking center stage between us as it grows bigger, brighter with power. A smirk plays on my lips. “ More.” I split it into two, twirling them around each other, and they begin to grow once more. It hardly registers that Donni is pointing ahead before I launch them at the targets she placed on the trees, completely obliterating them until only black char rests in their place.
The fire dies out, extinguishing from my skin. My hands fall to my knees, and I hang my head, chest heaving with exhaustion.
“Very good, Kallie. I’m quite impressed.” Her voice is carried by the wind while she walks away from me toward the burnt bark. My gaze lifts, and I watch her inspect the singed trunks, and then she places her hand on the tree, soothing the scorched bark like you would a crying child. Green hues spray from her palms, my eyes grow wide as the char disappears, and the tree is left as it once was. She does the same to the other before walking back over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. I offer her a small smile and rise to my full height.
“Did you heal them?”
“I did. They’re alive just like you and me. I wouldn’t want to be torched like that, would you?”
“Fair point,” I concede.
“Now, show me what you did with the vines.” Her hands clap together, her feet moving a few paces back. She has got to be fucking kidding. But she stands there, arms crossed, looking at me expectantly.
“Can’t we save that for tomorrow?” Or in a week, when I’m fully rested. She doesn’t back down, not saying anything and waiting for me to get on with it. “I can’t just make it happen. It just happens.”
“You control it, not the other way around. Focus, imagine what they look like, what they’re doing, and what you want them to do.” What she says makes sense, but I’m too tired to care.
“I guess you’ll have to hog tie me and see what spews out.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, it looks like a lightbulb goes off in her head. “No. That was a joke. Do not do that.” I give her the best stern look I can muster.
“Connect with the earth. Try sitting and close your eyes,” she instructs. Don’t have to tell me twice. I cross my legs and plant my hands down firmly. The ground feels cool beneath my touch, buzzing with energy I never noticed before.
With my eyes closed, I envision vines growing from the ground, thinking of what they looked like before, what it felt like to have that untapped power at my fingertips. The wind swirls around me, whisking my flyaways side to side. Memories fester, thinking of that room, the suffering that must have happened there, what could’ve happened to me. Again.
Blinding rage tethers me to the ground, and I push my hands down harder, soaking up whatever the soil will give. Then I think back to that night in the forest when I found out my whole life was a lie. Betrayed by my father and left to figure out whatever all this is on my own—well, with strangers that really don’t know me at all.
Power surges through me at an unthinkable pace, and the tendrils slither from the soil onto my hands, up my arms, and move throughout my body, going round and round, connecting like a racetrack, speeding up until I feel like I’m buzzing. I harness it, relish in the feeling, and imagine what I could do with it. The destruction I could cause. My revenge would reign, and it would be captivating. My cheeks heat, but I don’t pay it any mind and keep the energy flowing, pushing it out until the fullness begins to subside, and it’s euphoric, like an extra limb extending from my soul.
Tilting my head up to the sky, a smile tugs at my lips, and I release a laugh that is unrecognizable. I wait, basking in the sensation a while longer before opening my eyes, and when I do, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I stare up in awe, amazed at the cage I’ve put myself in. Small fires are still lit, dying out over each passing second until all that’s left are burn marks in the grass. Belladonna’s eyes bounce between me and everything I did, but her face remains unreadable.
I fucking did this. A silent command rings out, and the vines slowly untangle themselves and sink back into the ground, like they were never there in the first place, the grass looking untouched.
“Well done.”
“Thank you, I had no idea I coul—” My head snaps to the right. That sound, the indescribable growl I heard last night, summoning me, calling to me like a siren’s song calls to a passing ship. “What is that?” I ask into the wind. When I don’t get a reply, I look over my shoulder to find Belladonna staring into the distance, a hand placed on her chest.
“Something I’ll have Callum take you to see,” she answers, “I think it’s time we call it a day.” My shoulders sag with relief. Then I realize we have to walk back down this Goddess-forsaken mountain, and I’m filled with dread.
“Why don’t I just portal us home,” she suggests.
“That would be fantastic.” She begins moving her hands together, green smoke forming the portals I’ve gotten used to. Whereas Callum’s looks like a pit of death, Belladonna’s looks like a floating garden. Flowers sprouting around the opening, branches hanging mid-air. She extends her hand, and I take it, walking through, and everything goes upside down.