Smoke and Fire

Chapter 6

Parts of Asha's skin were as pink as her hair; she was sure of it, despite not having a mirror. Down her temples and her neck and across her chest, too. She didn't know how she was going to get the colour out. Or how long it would last for. That wasn't even her most distressing issue, though. Her scalp was burning, and when she ran her fingers over her head, she felt welts. Who knew how old that dye was or if it was safe to use on her skin? She wished she could use her healing magic on herself but that wasn't how it worked, or if it was, she hadn't learned how to do it. She'd tried, once, when Ian Buck broke her arm because she called him a bully. For days afterward, she felt like a can of soda pop someone had mercilessly shaken. It was a week before the feeling finally dissipated.

She leaned further into a small open pond that bordered the middle-class houses in the centre of town and felt relief every time Necia gathered up a handful of icy water and sloshed it over her head. She shivered but she didn't want to stop.

Boots scuffed over the pavement, sending a shock of fear through her heart. She lifted her head and positioned herself over the snowy ground so whoever approached couldn't hear her dripping into the water.

Two figures emerged from an alley and Asha's heart leapt for a new reason. Bjorn and Joan. She figured they'd come through this part of Ester when she set out that evening but it was still jarring to find them. She was afraid of what terrible things they'd gotten into and what terrible things were yet to come.

Bjorn walked with the swagger of a man that was ready to throw off his chains and do something awful, and Joan's spoke of a man that was already free. She warred with herself, step out and confront them or stay behind and see where they were going.

Necia read the situation with more finesse than Asha gave her credit for, not standing or shouting at them, but being discrete and as quiet as a mouse, just like Asha. "Are we following them?" she whispered when the two men stepped into yet another alley on the other side of the road.

Asha wavered back and forth, trying to decide if Bjorn's privacy and his wrath were worth the trauma of discovering their misdeeds.

Necia didn't let her vacillate long. She popped up and yanked Asha up, too. "Before they get too far."

Someone else's momentum to infiltrate Bjorn's business was exactly what she needed. Asha pushed her sopping wet hair back, hearing it land with a thud on her coat, the ends already freezing and fell into a light jog beside Necia.

There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground, making it easier to follow the boys' progress through the streets, out of the middle-class ring and into the poor, past broken down shops and sagging homes, into a part of the city even Asha was reticent to go. Here, the people were rich enough to have homes but poor enough to defend them with deadly force if they thought they needed to. Every few months, a body would end up either in the ditch or Silver River, depending on how motivated its killer was feeling. And those were just the people the media knew of. Sometimes, there would be Missing posters posted on the hydro poles. They would be taken down after a few weeks, their loved ones cutting their losses.

Is it the military taking them, too, or someone else?

She felt eyes on her and tried to make herself small and unthreatening as she clutched everything she carried, no matter how little value it had, tight to her body, afraid she'd be robbed.

The street narrowed into an alley that was choked by vines in the grips of their winter sleep. The walls of buildings were decorated in murals and there wasn't any sign of graffiti anywhere, unusual for this section of Ester. A bad feeling took root in Asha's belly. Bjorn had definitely gotten himself involved in something she wasn't at all comfortable with. Which was usual for Bjorn. He attracted trouble the way horses attracted flies. She didn't understand why he couldn't just leave well enough alone.