Tag Archives: character: enya royston

Author’s Note: This is the scene I was doing before I stopped to finish “After the Flood.” I think I like having that part go first better, even if this has some of the necessary details of “how.” It also might not belong to the overall story, but I’ll see how I feel about it later.

Making Plans

“Wait,” Sherwin said, stopping and grabbing hold of his sister, closing his eyes. Cress watched them in silence, knowing the signs of when they were listening to the wind. Air and earth seemed more attuned to their surroundings, able to hear and feel things at great distance—though Oceana could sometimes sense things from the water. He’d never done that, but he didn’t care if he did or not. He had enough “gifts.”

He’d been the first to break a mirror, and he still cursed himself for that day. He wondered if that was what was behind that saying about breaking a mirror causing years of bad luck, if the ancient beliefs about corruption of the soul were in part based on people like them, people who could tap into the other dimensions and manipulate this world through it. That would mean that he understood half of what he did and why he did it, why he could do it, but he never had, and he didn’t figure that he ever would.

Moira’s eyes snapped open, and she yanked herself free from her brother, shaking her head even as the breeze stirred around her. That expression said scared, but Moira didn’t do scared.

Terra frowned, her eyes darting between Moira and Sherwin. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Fire,” Sherwin said. “Not their kind. Ours. Has a different scent. Doesn’t die out like it should. This one’s been going for a while.”

“Damn it.”

“It has to be Enya, doesn’t it?”

“No, we want it to be Enya. If it’s not her, then it’s someone who can control fire, and you know what that means,” Oceana said, shaking her head. She frowned, biting her lip as she studied Cress. “We can’t do this. You’re too exhausted to deal with a firebug, even if it is Enya.”

“Water isn’t the only thing that puts out a fire,” Terra reminded her, giving her a dark look. “I know that you don’t trust me after what happened to Stone, and I—I don’t know that I blame you for that, but what there are other ways of dealing with one of them than having either of you manipulate water. Sherwin and Moira can cut out the air supply, make it impossible for it to spread, and I can cover the flames with earth.”

“You mean… work like a real team for a change?” Oceana asked, her lips twisted into a smile that was not the least bit friendly.

Cress touched his sister’s shoulder, and she cursed him even as her temper cooled. Terra had made a mistake, that was undeniable, and Stone had paid the price, but that was how it worked between most siblings. Only Enya had avoided that, but no one would pick her path, either.

“I’ll let you handle the fire,” Cress told them. “I will go after the firebug myself.”

“Cress—”

“Occie, I love you, but you know you can’t douse them fast enough.”

She sighed. Her control had never been as good as his, and her abilities weren’t the same as his, either. Point, counterpoint. None of them were meant to do this on their own. “I don’t know that I want you do to this. You could push yourself too far this time.”

He put his hands on her cheeks and leaned his head against hers. “That is why I have you, remember?”

“Stop trying to lull me into thinking this is nothing. I know better. We just lost Stone. We can’t afford to lose you.”

Sometimes he thought getting captured or killed would be a relief, but he never voiced the thought. His job was keeping them calm and as united as possible. He stepped back, giving Moira the keys. “You drive. I’m going to rest as much as I can before we get there.”

“She doesn’t know where to go.”

“She will.”

Author’s Note: I was writing a scene I thought needed to go before this one, and then I changed my mind, thinking the dramatic effect of this one going first was better than the other, since it was all about the plans and that would have ruined a bit of the “surprise” here.

I also need to settle on a working title for this one…

After the Flood

“You flooded my house.”

Cress nodded. “No choice.”

She winced, shaking her head as she looked around the room, listening to the water drip from every surface. The flames had left their mark, black, angry patches burned into the wood, and she knew it was only their contrary nature that had kept them from taking the whole thing down, her house and rest of the state with it.

“The monster got out.” She heard herself whisper, shuddering even with most of his weight trapping her to the floor. If he hadn’t been just as soaked as she was, that might have mattered, though it was more than a chill that had her shivering right now.

“I know.”

Of course he did. He’d had to stop it again, and from the way he kept talking, it hadn’t been easy. He hadn’t moved since she came back to herself, and he would have if he could. Too considerate to dump himself on her, too aware of what they’d never been, too much of a goody-goody ever to cross any kind of line, not with her or anyone else. She’d shove him to the side if she had any energy left, but the fire had stripped her as it had the house, leaving nothing behind.

“How?”

“The shift in the air.”

“Sherwin.”

“I knew you missed me,” he said, all smiles and charm as he leaned down next to them. Sandy blonde, always looking windswept and yet perfect, he had a tendency to be smug that she’d almost forgotten about—right until she saw him again and put all the pieces together that made him what he was. Hot air was his specialty, after all.

She would have laughed, but none of this was funny, not after what she’d done. “I didn’t.”

“Liar. I keep telling you—fire needs air to breathe.”

“Just because I fell for that line when I was thirteen doesn’t mean I’ll do it again,” she said, regaining some of her strength. She had to shut him up before he mentioned that it wasn’t just at thirteen or at fifteen. If she’d been any more of a fool, any weaker to what he was…

“Come on, Cress,” Oceana said, taking hold of her brother’s arm. “We’ll get you back to the car. You’ve done enough. Sherwin can carry her.”

Cress used her help and Moira’s to get up again, and Enya got a better look at him, shaking her head in disgust. She’d almost claimed three lives tonight. He could have been one of them. “They were here. Looking for you.”

“Told you you shouldn’t have gone to see her,” Terra said, and Enya glared at her, the moment ruined as Sherwin lifted her into his arms.

“Didn’t ask for your opinion, Terra, and if they’d seen me then, they would have just taken me. Well, they would have tried,” Cress told her, echoing Enya’s thought from earlier. “They’d have had no choice but to try for it. They can’t afford to let that kind of opportunity pass. They need me to be on my own, and even then, they can’t handle what I can do to them.”

“They didn’t know that I had any ability of my own. I was just Cress’ unsuspecting ‘girlfriend,’ no threat at all.”

“Girlfriend?”

“I’d be more concerned about their ability to find Enya and still not know what she was,” Cress said, giving Sherwin a pointed look. “We’re not going to argue again. Enya’s been compromised, and if this wasn’t a trap before, it is now. Move. Everyone in the car, now.”

Author’s Note: So I had the part that followed this in mind, but it wasn’t supposed to be this soon in the narrative. Maybe I won’t leave it where it is, I might move it around and adjust it.

Deep in the Night

Her eyes opened to the sound of running water, and she lifted her head, looking around for Cress, though he’d never been the type to break and enter, even with his occasional trouble with boundaries. She snorted—that was Cress’ biggest problem. He didn’t have the same boundaries as the others. People could drain him near death, and he couldn’t stop them. She looked over at her fountain, picking up a stone from the waterfall, shaking her head. She’d forgotten about that. She didn’t indulge in a lot of decorations—the more things she had the more she could burn—but this she’d had to get. The running water reminded her of Cress and Oceana—though more him than his sister—and the rocks were Stone and Terra.

She kept the wind-chime to remind her of Moira and Sherwin, and she swore she could hear it twisting in the wind just at the thought of them. Even together, they didn’t have that kind of reach, but it was nice, sometimes, to feel less alone.

Enya closed her eyes. The fountain was not like Cress, could not soothe and relax a person in an instant. She would not be sleeping tonight. She needed to accept that.

Stone was dead.

All this time, all these years, no one had died since their parents, and the idea of Stone being the first to fall… She put a hand in her hair, shaking her head. Stone had always been the strongest of all of them, and they’d never been able to resist teasing him about being like a rock. He’d had a better sense of humor than that, not living up to his name in that respect, but he was still the strongest, the one they turned to if they had doubts or needed protection.

She had wanted him for a brother, and she’d hated Terra for getting Stone when she never seemed to appreciate him. That was family, though. No one knew what they had until that was all gone.

She let out a breath. She didn’t want to do this. Stone was one thing, and thinking about him was a sign of respect, the kind she’d always owed him, but her family was different. Forbidden. She had rules about that, and she knew better than to disobey them.

Reaching for her robe, she slipped it on and rose, heading for the kitchen. She stepped into the hall and stopped, frowning. She swore she’d heard something that was not water, and if that was what she thought it was…

Just because Stone was dead didn’t mean they’d found her. They wouldn’t have followed Cress to their meeting, they’d have taken him. He was the most valuable prize, after all. He was the leader, and he’d been able to use his talents earlier than any of the other kids, with more skill and natural ability than anyone. He’d tried to teach her control, the only one who would—who could—because anyone else would have been dead.

It didn’t make sense to ignore everything he was for what she was.

Unless…

She leaned against the wall, trying to keep calm. Her mind could be pushing all of this way out of proportion, and she didn’t need to scare herself into losing control. A bit of paranoia was good, but not this much. Never this much.

The creak came again, a different board giving under the weight of someone else. She stiffened. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she had rats again. She refused to let the monster free for a few rats. That was too high a price to pay.

Another creak, this one behind her. Her bedroom. She should have known they’d send a team. She tightened her grip on the rock she’d never set down, knowing that it was not enough.

She looked back, knowing she had nowhere to go. She could duck into the bathroom, maybe, yank the cover off the mirror and defend herself the only way she knew how—No. She would not. She could not. That was never an option.

“Tell us where they are.”

She stared at the gun, tempted to laugh. “Is that a tranquilizer?”

“No.”

“It should be.”

“Look, lady, we don’t care about you. We just want your boyfriend and his friends.” This time the words came from behind her, and she took a brief glance to confirm that he was also carrying an automatic weapon. They must not have learned anything in fighting the others. That thing was as good as useless.

“So tell us where they are, and we’ll let you live.”

“You’re idiots. You think I’d fall for that?” She did laugh then. She knew more about what they were up against than they did, and they should have been better prepared for someone like her. Maybe Cress had managed to keep her secret, maybe they had forgotten that there were four elements, not three, but maybe they were just that stupid.

They had called him her boyfriend, so she’d say they were.

The man in front of her smiled. “Well, there are a few reasons to keep you alive…”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you get it? I’m the most dangerous one of them all.”

“You?” The man snorted, but she heard his finger shift on the gun, preparing to fire.

She reached into her pocket, fingering the makeup case. She knew better. She wouldn’t. She kept this thing for a reason, always had one nearby, but she didn’t want to use it.

“She’s going to talk before she dies,” the other one said, smashing her and the compact into the wall. The glass fell to the floor, and the room started to heat even before the monster was free. She could feel it all over her, claiming her, and when she spoke, she didn’t recognize her voice.

No, no, no, but she could not stop it, not any of it.

“Coming here, you chose to play with fire. Now you get to burn.”

Author’s Note: I decided to let the story that was the most demanding try and clear some of the fog out of my brain. This scene was more or less clear in my head, and getting it out “on paper” as it were seemed to bring coherency back to me as I wrote.

Now, here’s hoping I can use that for other projects.

In the meantime… a bit of interaction from a unique childhood.

Perfect Day for Rain

“It should rain today.”

“Dangerous thing to say around this place.”

She looked up, annoyed that she wasn’t as annoyed by him as she should be. She didn’t want to be affected by his presence, even if she wasn’t happy to see him. He was everywhere, somehow, and he didn’t need to be in her business, too. She didn’t want him controlling her. That was what he did, even if he said he didn’t. He made them all just a bit cooler, a bit calmer, and she wanted to be angry because she was supposed to be alone right now. She didn’t want him here.

She couldn’t ever stay angry around him.

She hated that about Cress.

“Why are you here?”

“Trying to find a place to be alone.”

She snorted. “Says the boy who hangs out with the normals. How does it feel to be the king of the losers, anyway?”

He grunted. He’d been elected class president last week, and it was still fun to tease him about it. He never got mad, but he did pout, in his way. He stared out into space, his lips thinned, and his nose would wrinkle in the funniest way. “No one asked me if I wanted them around. It’s what I am. I don’t have a choice.”

“Could be worse.”

“You mean I could be like you?”

She shoved him. “Go away, Cress. Go find your sister and bug her. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to be alone.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she closed her eyes, feeling his ability wash over her as it always did, cleansing her and rinsing away the day. She could fall asleep right here, sitting up, lulled by little more than his touch.

“Don’t you ever get tired of helping everyone else?”

“You don’t look at mirrors.”

She lifted her head, not sure when she’d slumped over on him. She frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You know how thin the barriers are.”

One broken glass. She knew, and she was terrified of it. She tensed, but he had her back half-asleep before she could pull away from him.

“You don’t have to fear them, not like I do.”

“No, I don’t.”

She stared at him, the awareness that struck her almost as bad as catching a glimpse of the monster in the mirror. “You can’t stop it, can you? You can’t shut it off, and one day… it’s going to kill you, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Why do you think I wanted to be alone?”

She closed her eyes, biting her lip and trying to shut it out, all of it. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to him, didn’t want to care. Cress was everyone’s friend, no one could lose him. She didn’t know that she had any right to call him that—friend—but that didn’t mean she knew how to cope with what she’d learned.

He might be one of the best at using his gift, at pulling and manipulating what was beyond the barrier, but he paid a price for it, didn’t he?

“I’m going home.”

“All right.”

She rose and started down the street, past the vacant houses that others had abandoned and no one had claimed, down to her own. She looked up when she felt the first drop of rain, shaking her head even as she fought a smile.

It was the perfect day for rain.

Author’s Note: So this one is still a bit… odd, still a bit in development, but I think I have a better sense of what’s behind the scenes, of all that good backstory that creates a “universe,” and so while this part is not necessarily as charged as her exchange with Cress, there’s plenty between the lines of what she’s saying…

Omissions and Evasions

“You seem distracted.”

Distraction was never good, but she couldn’t help it. Her mind was focused on what she’d heard the night before, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d slip and ruin everything. “Bad night. Sorry. What did you need? More paperwork to file?”

“You sure you’re feeling okay? Maybe we should send you home, get you some rest and sleep…”

She didn’t want to sleep. Sleep meant memories and a loss of control that she couldn’t afford right now. She’d joked about it, but she knew her problem was much more than the mirrors. That was just the easiest way, the fastest reminder of the monster that she held back, trying to keep it imprisoned so that no one else had to suffer.

Turning around in her seat, she forced a bright smile for her boss. The other woman didn’t deserve any of this, and she wouldn’t understand it. Helen knew the simple things of an office, a mundane nine-to-five job that kept them fed and housed but never did anything to stimulate their brains. She had pushed papers for most of her fifty years, and she’d be pushing them when she died. Helen’s hair had lost its color, turning gray and then white, matching the papers that never seemed to end.

Long live the bureaucracy. At least it made for a steady paycheck.

Of course, she’d taken the job so that she was never tempted by the other side of the mirror, never in danger, never at risk. Boring was safe, for her and for everyone else.

“I… ran into an old friend last night. He told me another friend of ours died. I’d lost touch with all of them, had no idea… It’s just a bit disconcerting.”

“Oh, Enya.”

“It’s not like we were close. Just… from the same neighborhood, that’s all. We all had the same story growing up, one crappy little street and all the disadvantages that came from living in the side of town that should have been condemned.”

Helen nodded, pushing back her curls. “Yeah. Though no one’s ever gotten this much of a hard-knock life story from you before.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like we starved. The whole area flooded out a few times, but we never went without heat or shelter. It was just the stigma that the other kids put on us in school, that’s all. The weirdos from Eden drive that were plain no-good.”

Helen clucked her tongue, shaking her head with disapproval. She never liked prejudice, and she could be all too vocal about it sometimes. “That’s stupid. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It was—I find myself contemplating my own mortality. You know how it is. The guy was only a bit older than me, and he’s dead now. That makes you stop and think about how fast it can all end, how it’s just an instant, one piece of broken glass…”

“What?”

“From a windshield. In the accident,” she lied, not wanting to think about the truth. One moment could cost so much, one slip, one fracture… The walls were too thin, and if they ever started to crumble, then the whole thing would come apart. It would all be over before anyone knew what happened.

“Oh. That is tragic.”

“Yeah. You know, I think you’re right, Helen. I’m not getting anything done, so if you don’t mind, I’ll take the rest of the day off and come back in the morning.”

“Not at all, sweetheart. You go get some rest. You wouldn’t want to see yourself at the moment, you’re a wreck.”

“That’s okay. I never look in the mirror.”

Author’s Note: So I was trying to fulfill this prompt, and down they forgot as up they grew ~ “anyone lived in a pretty how town” by e. e. cummings, piggybacking off of what I did in Into the Fire.

I’m not really sure it hit the prompt, but it did what I wanted it to do, more or less. I’m also in danger of making way too many puns. 😛

Too Much Water Under the Bridge

“You’re late, Royston.”

Her eyes closed as she sat down in the chair, not sure she was up to dealing with his crap today. “What’s it to you, Washburne? I don’t even know why I came.”

She didn’t need to look at him to know he was the same. He hadn’t changed. The light would still catch his black hair in a way that made it look blue, his skin would always appear to have that permanent tan. He’d be fit, keeping up that athletic look, always in motion, so fluid. He was the boy with the water, the soothing personality that put them all at ease, the most popular kid in the neighborhood, and he seemed to expect her to remember that, but over the years, too much time had passed for her to call him a friend, and he was not a neighbor, not anymore. She didn’t owe him anything, and he didn’t owe her. He just thought he could use her, and she never knew why. She wasn’t that easy.

“No one forced you to come, so if you don’t want to be here, don’t stay.”

“Sounds like your day was as bad as mine.”

“I don’t know what your day was like.”

“Right. You don’t care, either.”

He kicked her chair, and her eyes opened, glaring across the table at him. He shrugged, once more being that duck, the one that let water run right off his back. That figured. She knew better than to bother. She didn’t know why she tried. She couldn’t help it, she supposed. She needed to fight.

He never did, though she could provoke him every now and again. She used to be proud of that, but now she didn’t remember why.

“That’s better. We need to talk.”

“You’ve had your chance to say whatever you need to say.”

He leaned forward, hands on the table, getting too close to her. “When they come for you, you’ll regret ignoring me now.”

She stiffened. She’d done her best to get far away from all of that, to put it behind her. None of them were safe, no matter how much distance they put between them and the beginning. “You’re sure?”

“Stone’s dead.”

Damn it.

She couldn’t think about Stone being dead. That wasn’t something she knew how to deal with. She would rather ignore it, pretend she hadn’t heard anything at all. She knew she had, but she refused to acknowledge it.

“His sister’s terrified.”

“Bet that wasn’t fun.”

“I said I had a bad day.”

He was too proud to ask for help, and she knew he wouldn’t. He never put any demands on her, though she sometimes thought he would. Instead, he’d let her walk away like it didn’t matter.

It did.

She reached into her pocket and took out her keys. “I’m not going back with you.”

He nodded, rising. “Never expected you to. Just wanted to make sure you listened to my warning. You know, since you ignore my calls most of the time.”

“I have my reasons.”

“We all have our reasons.” He started toward the door, and she thought about staying where she was. She wasn’t about to follow him. He led the others. She wasn’t one of them, though, and she stayed separate for a reason. Too many of them, damn it.

“Cress.”

He looked back at her. “What?”

She didn’t remember standing up, and she didn’t know why she’d used his first name or why her throat was so dry. “Be careful.”

“You too, Enya.”

She shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me. I know better than to look into any mirrors.”

Author’s Note: I am still feeling stuck, so I asked for a jumpstart to my inspiration, and Liana Mir gave me a few things. I doubt this goes anywhere near the idea behind …leaping out of the frying pan of yourself / into the fire of someone else ~ “Adage” by Billy Collins and probably doesn’t do enough with broken glass, but it is interesting to see what odd things come to my brain at times, isn’t it?

Into the Fire

Once she dreamed that she shattered her mirror with a touch, spilling broken glass upon the ground, and when she did, she became the person on the other side, the person she’d seen in the reflection so many times but was never her. The other woman did not share her face. She did not know how it happened or who that woman was, but she had become someone else with a gentle tap—for the glass, not for her.

Her hair became red as fire, her skin burning as she changed. Whatever this other woman was, she lived and breathed in the flame, and somehow she thought that she’d set the world ablaze with a single touch, just as she’d broken the glass with something so simple.

What she saw in that dream frightened her, and for years, she avoided the mirror, afraid to see that other woman when she looked at it, afraid that if given half the chance, that inferno would free herself and take over.

It took far too long for her to realize that what she was scared of was herself.