Emberlight

3. The End of the Road

Kelsey

At the end of the road, Kelsey climbed onto the brick wall outside the coffee bar. Luminous orange cones marked out a missing chunk of concrete from the road, and the paintwork of a nearby car had melted away, exposing the dull grey beneath.

She liked being around the scars of magic, although she didn't know why. All she knew was sitting around and listening to her mother turn complaining into a full-time career was worse than watching the world melt away.

It didn't take long for footsteps and panting to grow louder behind her. Kelsey relaxed, certain that a Bloodwitch wouldn't make so much noise.

"You're being childish," Feya said between breaths, her cheeks rosy.

"I like being a child. Means I can really understand what's happening to our world."

"It's not so bad."

Kelsey snorted. She pulled out her phone to sort out her footage, the evidence of magic that would send LOCA into a spin. The video proved Embers weren't the enemy, that they needed help all the same.

"Okay, yes, it's bad," Feya said. "In fact, it's so bad, we should probably head inside."

Kelsey pressed play. The Embers, the Bloodwitch, Kelsey's gasp—all of it was there, but the thrill of being caught between it all had numbed. Rain spotted her screen as the video halted on the last frame: the unconscious Ember lying in the road. Blisters crawled up the girl's neck and cheek, her matted hair peeling from the edge of her burnt scalp.

Kelsey's stomach churned. She tried her best to hide it, while Feya embraced a shiver.

"The poisonous-hissy-gas woman has to be the worst Bloodwitch I've seen so far," Feya said.

Kelsey laughed. "Good times, right? LOCA would shut up and hide if they realised who they were really dealing with." She scoffed, her irritation from the meeting resurfacing. "Twenty-first century witch burners... It's a stupid name. Embers and Bloodwitches are not the same thing, and they're only interested in each other."

Kelsey shoved her phone into her jacket, swapping it for her pocket knife. She locked the blade in place and chipped at the cracks in the bricks.

"It could happen to us, right? Magic, that is." Feya tugged a loose thread of her cardigan. "Listen. When it comes to the Aversion, your mum is kind of resilient. Tristan's mum, too. His dad could have been an Ember before—you know—the car crash took him."

"What's your point?"

"I'm worried you have magic."

"I've told you before, I'm not secretly an Ember and nor do I want to be. Sure, the gifts are cool, but that's where the fun ends. Abruptly. With death."

"I know, I know." Feya took a deep breath. She hugged her cardigan closer and shielded her eyes from the rain. "What I mean is—have you seen my parents? They're always the first to lose it when magic is mentioned. Sometimes I'm not sure if they remember why they turn up to those meetings."

"Tell them to stay home. The less the merrier."

"That's not it. I'm rambling..." Feya hesitated before looking her friend in the eye. "If you turn out to have magic, please remember I'm really sorry when I say ignorant stuff. It's the Aversion talking. It's not me."

"I know," Kelsey said, chipping harder at the bricks. Her friend always worried about the wrong things. It didn't matter if they became magical moaners—it mattered if they became magical soldiers for the real war.