A Delicate Web (gxg) | ONC2020 |

3. gemini

chapter three: gemini

word count: 1626 words

A wave of light and force washes over us, throwing the entire northern section of Capital in green. I don't even hear the cosmic boom, but I feel it reverberate in my chest. Blistering heat sears against my back.

The wind tears at our clothes and I spend a moment in freefall, completely disoriented. The girl is struggling, arms and legs flailing, too caught up in the moment to be sensible. My head is ringing and I'm completely bewildered, spinning head over heels and still desperately clutching her to keep her close to me even as her hands catch on my shoulders and the edge of my helmet.

I re-engage the lifters moments before we hit the ground. That, paired with the protection spell, absorbs some of the impact, but not all of it, and we hit the ground with a nauseating crunching sound that I can only hope isn't any of our bones.

Everything settles into silence around us, then is shattered again by blaring sirens and people erupting into chatter again. There'll be authorities rushing over to us in a few moments.

"Time to go," I groan, struggling to sit up.

"Can you use that spell for safe sex?" The girl I've saved asks.

I'm dumbfounded, still sitting on the cold pavement next to her, knees raised.

"What?"

She pushes herself off the ground, sitting up. Her expression is completely neutral, like she's been shocked into aloofness. "Protection. I mean, like, that'd be pretty handy, right? Cast it on your partner's d—"

"What?"

She blinks red-smudged eyes, then looks around.

"Sorry. I ramble when I'm nervous."

I sigh through the helmet's voice filters, stand up, grab her warm hand in mine, and tug her to her feet.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so. Maybe? We'll see."

"Okay, good." I drag her away from the gathering crowds at a fast clip, ignoring the way every muscle in my body screams in protest. The lights of militia copters are gathering overhead, drawn to the crisis like moths drawn to an artificial flame. I pull her into an alleyway and she promptly crumples back to the ground, eyes huge. She rests her hand on her knees.

"Oh, man," she wheezes. "Fuck. Oh, fuck."

Finally, an appropriate reaction.

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

"We jumped off a skyscraper! You pushed me off a skyscraper!"

"Would you rather have been up there?" I ask, nodding in the direction of Neilson's office building. The top five floors have been reduced to a crater that belches ribbons of smoke into the sky.

"Guess not." She flexes her fingers and rolls her shoulders. "I think I'm okay. I'll be sore tomorrow, though. Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Hurt."

Oh. Right. I wince at my stupidity. Something about the way her intense, yet doe-like gaze focuses on me is making me forget my train of thought.

"Nah, I'll be fine." Thankfully. That protection spell isn't meant to cover two people. We're lucky we escaped with no more than some scrapes and bruises.

I glance down at her, suddenly indecisive, but knowing what I need to do. "So, if you were there, I'm assuming you're a dark magic user. Which means I'll have to turn you in."

Her eyes widen for a second, and then she grins brightly, getting to her feet. She brushes off the knees of her formal black trousers.

"Oh, no, I'm not a user," she assures me. She sticks out a hand to shake. "Gemini Davis, but you can call me Gem. I'm a reporter. Well, reporter in training. Future reporter."

"Gemini?" I repeat, eyes narrowed as I take her hand even though she can't see my expression through the dark helmet visor.

"Yeah. Even though I'm a Libra. That's caused some awkward first dates, actually."

I ignore all of that. "And you're... a reporter? You weren't there to bid on the serum?"

"Oh, no way. I don't care for magic myself — I mean, no offence, it's cool and all," she adds hastily. "I just don't really care." She leans in closer, only reaching my shoulder in height. "I'm not a full reporter; I'm just helping my moms with the story they're working on. That's still not what I was here for, though. I'm working on my own story."

"That's nice," I reply, feeling like I should be bored by her constant chatter. I'm not one for small talk or lengthy conversations — never have been. But the way she stares at me when she talks, even though we're not really making eye contact through my helmet, keeps me captivated. Her endless talking somehow manages to be anything but dry. "Look, that isn't important. You're not a user; that's great. Now I should really get you home."

"You didn't even introduce yourself."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sure the media will have come up with some sort of stupid name for me already. Now, which way do you live?"

She points eastward, and I head in that direction, with her immediately jumping up to keep pace with my long strides.

"Oh, definitely. Some of them are actually calling you the Black Mamba."

I groan, feeling it vibrate through my speakers. "Black Mamba. Wow, that one sucks." It's not like I'm even embracing any snake aesthetics in my performance.

"Yeah. Guess you'd better just tell me your real name so I don't have to call you that, huh?"

I glance at her, hands tucked in her pockets and walking coolly next to me, as if she's forgotten all about the fact that I pushed her off a building with me and saved her life.

I can't exactly tell her I'm Maud Freeling, princess of the Northerns. Then she wouldn't look at me the way she does now. She would look at me the way everyone else does.

"Not happening," I reply at last.

"Alright, fine," she says breezily, gesturing me left when we get to the next intersection. "That's fine. I guess I'll have to figure it out all on my own."

"Sure." We walk in silence for a moment. "What's your story on?"

"The royal family."

The answer is disappointing. Who hasn't written an article on my family?

"Wait—why were you there if you were writing about the king and queen? What do they have to do with anything?" The effort it takes to not say we in every sentence is astounding.

"Well, I thought I heard once that the king's been involved in trade deals with Neilson. When I found out the guy was selling serums, I kinda figured maybe the king was involved in that, too."

I let out a laugh that comes out more bitter than it was supposed to. My parents are a lot of things, but at least they're not dark magic users.

"Hold on. You were trying to uncover, like, a conspiracy? Regarding the royals?"

"Yeah."

"And if that had been the case, you'd have published it? Revealed it to everyone?"

"Well, yeah, but don't say that too loud." She gives me a nervous grin. "Don't want to be arrested for treason."

"Huh."

I've never met a reporter who was writing a story that cast my family in a negative light before.

"It's kind of a dumb thing to pursue, I guess. If there is anything going on, it's all kept so—so private, you know?"

I nod. I know all too well.

"But there's something odd about those people. I don't like them, and I have to find out if there's a reason why."

We walk along in silence for a few moments, farther from the havoc we've wreaked. The conversation about my parents is plaguing my mind. Someone who wants to expose them, not if there's all that much to expose. But maybe I can give her a few more things to write about.

"Hey," she says, elbowing me. I jump in surprise at the sudden intrusion in my thoughts, and I see her trying not to grin. "Do you think Neilson is dead?"

I think back to the way the upper portion of the building was blown into smithereens, the shock wave of light and heat. No one could have survived that—unless he'd managed to duck into the portal before it blew.


"I'm not sure," I reply. "But I'd like to find out. He took the serum, and I don't know why, since he'd already a user."

"Maybe it's a new strain of the serum."

I nod. That would be bad.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Gem directs us down a wide street that glitters with streetlights hovering in the air above our heads. When we stop, we're in front of a tall apartment building. I stare up at it, unable to help comparing it to the huge glass-and-metal expanses of our palace.

"You live here?"

"Yep. Buzzer number twelve, if you ever decide to come see me. Without the helmet this time, maybe." She smiles, and my heart thuds unnaturally, even though I keep my voice impassive.

"Doubtful, but we'll see." 

She heads to the front door, producing a keycard, but I speak up before she can open the door.

"Hey, Gemini?"

She pauses, poised on the doorstep and glowing under the lights outside, one hand resting on the knob.

"Hmm?"

I lick my lips. "I'm on pretty good terms with the princess—I could probably get you a private interview with her, if you want."

"Really?" Her eyes are round. "Could you do that?"

"Yeah, definitely. I'll have her send an invite here for you."

She flashes a brilliant white smile.

"Thanks, Mamba."

"Yeah, we're gonna have to work on that."

"And thanks for saving me, too."

"No problem. Try to stay out of trouble."

She laughs, opens the door, and is gone.