Emberlight

5. Emberlight

Kelsey

The van grumbled along the road like a satisfied beast with Kelsey, Feya, and Tristan trapped in its belly.

Finn steered them through the countryside into the unknown while Isadora and Odin sat in the back with their prisoners. Their leader, Oliana, tailed them in her car, probably to make sure Kelsey didn't kick open the doors and barrel roll into the road. Exhaustion had already wiped the idea of escape from her mind anyway.

Instead she examined the flick and curves of the sigils that covered the interior of the van. They reminded her of graffiti carved into an exam desk, except with a sense of organisation to the chaos, a meaning behind each mark.

"Curious, over there? I can enlighten you on their magic, if you like," Odin said. He pressed a gauze against Feya's head wound.

"No point. I won't be around them long enough," she replied.

"No powers?" He read her expression. "No Aversion either, by the looks of it. You know, you'll be with us until that kicks in. We have to keep you, or send you back as tabula rasa's."

"Blank slates," Kelsey translated, the term familiar from a psychology class. Odin's brow rose in surprise, but she didn't explain herself. Whenever she mentioned her memory skills, people always wanted to test her on it. She didn't feel like performing for him.

"What happened to LOCA?" Tristan asked.

Odin's thick brows knitted together. He turned his attention to Feya. "We don't know."

"Typical," Kelsey muttered.

"It's Kelsey, isn't it?" Isadora took over. "You need to relax for now."

"I'll relax when you tell me what happened to LOCA. You were outside my house for ages after you stuffed us in here. You're hiding something."

"Please?" Tristan added.

Before the Embers could reply, a buzz filled the van, followed by a melody Kelsey recognised instantly. It seemed to be coming from Odin's hip. He looked guilty.

Kelsey jumped to her feet. "That's my phone!"

Isadora was just as fast, reaching her hand out. A bar of ice shot across the van, cutting Kelsey off from Odin, confining her to the corner of the vehicle with a frosty breeze. Kelsey met the girl's cracked irises, the ice swirling behind them, and she hesitated. She could slip underneath or climb over, but not with Isadora watching her, so keen to freeze her to the spot.

"I'm sorry," Isadora said, for whatever good that did. The melody played again, taunting her, warning her to answer it soon.

"Give it!"

Odin pulled out the phone, holding it at a distance. "Listen, there are ways in which we handle these t'ings—"

"Tristan! Help me out here."

He held up his hands, warily eying Isadora. "I'm not getting involved."

"Alright, I could answer it for you," Odin said.

"Then answer it already!"

He spared a look at Isadora. Her irises contracted under the pressure of the decision. As the tune played a final time, Isadora nodded, and Odin swiped his thumb across the screen.

"Hello there— erm...well, no, I'm not your daughter."

Kelsey watched him carefully as one of her parents spoke to him, wondering who had tried to contact her. By the way Odin winced and frowned and awkwardly shuffled it to his other ear, she had bets on Ester.