Chapter 5- Spotted

     The world had not aged as well as the Benard house, and this fact had become deafeningly loud as I walked the damp and dreary streets of Berlin. The symbol of the regime- our regime, I shuddered to even think- was plastered on every pole and every street corner. Sure, Germany tried to appear a happy, pure place in these times. But people like me couldn't help but notice the signs of wear everywhere. Blue-eyed women wept tears of sorrow, clutching small articles of clothing like they were the only things keeping them alive. Little curly, black-haired heads could be seen occasionally stealing peeks out the window, but never for more than a moment before the curtain replaced their terrified faces. There were many more soldiers than the last time I had visited, as well, many who were cat-calling widows who just wanted to be left alone in their grief. It was truly the bleakest I had seen the once grand city, even if others could not see it as such.


     "A handful of hybrids have escaped from the mansion over the past few months," Marcel spoke quietly. The Italian accent was still strong, though his German was easily understandable. "I've been digging for information, trying to find out where they've gotten to. Rumor has it that they haven't gotten out of the city. They haven't even been trying to leave. They're just holding out somewhere."

     "Why wouldn't they have left yet? It's too dangerous here." I grumbled. "They could get caught." 

     "The entire city is crawling with more and more soldiers every day. If they tried to leave now, it would be suicide." He frowned absentmindedly. "Though, I have to wonder if that's really it. Quite a few of them could pass for normal Aryan human beings without much trouble. Those ones in particular could disappear into the abyss, never to be seen again. And they still remain."

     "You aren't trying to say they want to stay in Berlin, are you, Mr. Lettiere? That's just ridiculous." I shook my head at Marcel, but his expression remained grim.

     "I couldn't tell you for certain- unlike some, the psychology of every living being doesn't interest me." He laughed jovially, and I cracked a smile. "Say, is it true you know some of those parlor tricks everyone is so fascinated by?"

     "Well I'd hardly call them parlor tricks- they're Magick, just like anything else. They just require a better understanding of self control. Would you like to see one?" I bent down to grab a pebble off the ground, tossed it in the air. When it came back to my hand, it had turned into a shiny silver coin of some type of currency or another. I grinned wildly, but Marcel simply rolled his eyes at me. "What? Not impressed?"

     "I'd be more impressed if it had been German currency and not... American." He chuckled at my immediate displeased groan. "You could have at least been a bit more grandiose about the whole thing- turning it into a flower, or a butterfly or something." 

     "Are you kidding? I kept it the same size on purpose, you dolt! Or did you want the whole city to be watching us? The minute they know someone of my standing is walking the streets, we won't be able to have privacy at all!" I felt the urge to strangle him in that moment- not an uncommon urge in my case, mind you- but I clenched my fists tight at my sides. Now was not the time to draw attention to ourselves, but to blend into the shadows of the city. "Now, where do we find these hybrids?"

     "Well, that's just the thing." His brows furrowed, deep in thought. "I don't know these creatures quite as well as you do, and you aren't exactly subtle about information gathering. We're just going to have to cooperate to figure this whole damn thing out. So no rash ideas, okay?"

    "Says the man who wanted me to create butterflies out of thin air!" I huffed, pulling him towards a nearby alleyway. 

     "H-hey- what are you-" He stammered, obviously more that a little concerned. I grinned wickedly, pulling an ornate glass bottle from my bag. It was filled with a gunky purple liquid, and steam had coated the walls from the inside. "What the hell?!"

     "It's an... emergency elixir of sorts. I always make one to carry with me in public settings. This one is a double dose- enough for both of us. It'll wear off in a few hours, but until then we'll be able to move around undetected. To anyone who happens to be a Magick-kind mind reader, it'll be like our minds don't exist."

     "Doesn't that create a problem if one zeroes in on us specifically?" He eyed the bottle warily. "They'll know we're trying to mask ourselves, won't they?"

     "Yes, that's correct." I confirmed grimly. "Which means we need to keep close to groups of civilians whenever we can help it. That will muddle up most of their reading, letting us slip past without much trouble." I pulled the stopper out of the bottle, and a sickeningly sweet aroma wafted up from the bottle. I handed it to Marcel and grinned wickedly. "Bottoms up, Mr. Lettiere." He gave me a pitiful look before downing half of the sticky sludge. Marcel hacked and coughed, doubling over.

     "How do you stomach that crap?!" He wheezed sourly. "And that aftertaste- blech! Couldn't you have brewed it to be a little more, oh I don't know, enjoyable?" Quickly I downed the rest of the liquid, hardly blinking an eye. He stared at me in disbelief. I hiccuped and sighed in frustration before pulling out a small notebook and a pen. 

     "No more nausea and much less dizziness this time, which is definitely an improvement over the last batch. Still minor shakiness and the hiccups returned in this round of testing. However, test subject's mind is virtually undetectable with my own mind reading skills." Writing notes as I spoke, I smiled to myself. The elixir had been a success, even if it still had some minor side effects. 

     Marcel just gaped at me. "Uh, hello? You were using me as a test subject?! Using Magick-kind to test experimental magick is outlawed!" 

   "So is trying to help these hybrids escape the city, but I didn't see you balk at the idea of breaking the law then, did I? Besides, the very process of making a hybrid is illegal and there are still Magick-kind out there doing it. Next thing you know, the Benards will want to start mass-producing them again." I huffed irately. "Why do we keep the hybrids as our servants? I thought the households all repented for their mistakes, and making these poor creatures was definitely one of them."

     "What do you suggest we do, burn them all to death like they did with the failed experiments?" Marcel growled as we glided out of the alleyway. "We can't let them run rampant in society. Most of them can't control their forms without our medication. Can you imagine the chaos if a human saw a hybrid's true form? We'd have mass hysteria on our hands."

     "You don't have enough faith in our lethargic kin." I laughed.

     "And you have too much faith in them." He grimly answered. "They all forgot about us for a reason, Rebecca. They can't handle this sort of world's existence, so they built up mental barriers to block it out. Can you imagine being one of them and finding out there was this whole different reality that they could never survive in?"

     "So what you're saying-" 

     "They're too fragile. So we have to keep the hybrids under constant watch in order to avoid total chaos. Now, the issue comes up about the medicine, I know. We should just give the hybrids better access to the elixirs we make, but we can't give these things away. I think we need to make specific shops for them to buy their medicine, or perhaps we should teach them how to make the stuff themselves to give them more independence." He had twinkle in his eye. "Then, and only then, we could bring the end of their enslavement." 

     His reasoning was fairly sound, but I had my own issues with it. "So, if the hybrids need that medicine to blend in, how are they managing without it? Did you think of that?" The gears in my mind were whirring. "Someone has to be giving them the elixir! That's the only answer, isn't it? There's someone else who supports their freedom, Marcel!" I threw my arms around him in a tight embrace without thinking. "We aren't alone- someone else is out there."

     I heard him chuckle, and quickly I stepped back from him, trying to keep the blush away from my cheeks. "What ever happened to your formalities, Rebecca? You've let yourself slip- don't think I'll be forgetting that, dear." 

     "Don't 'dear' me, Mr. Letierre." I huffed indignantly. 

      "Why not, darling? You're going to marry me, after all." He smiled, the glint in his eyes growing more devious. 

      "No, I absolutely will not! I'm to be more than just a shell for the heir to your family's wealth. I will make my own way, as a Benard." I held my head up high with pride. 

      "Yes, I'm aware, and when you become one of them, my marriage to you will make me part of the Benard family, granting me all the power I'm deprived of in Italia. We can change the world of Magick-kind for the betterment of all, but we have to work together. In order for me to do that work with you, I must be your equal." His eyes were hard, but his gaze softened as he was seemingly distracted by a small group of children that ran past. "Do you see them? They're growing up in a cruel world with a harsh reality, but they aren't even aware that things could be better. How could they know, when this bleak world of stormy grey is all they've ever seen? At least in Italia there is still color to be found- more than that, our people have maintained their lively spirits." 

     "La Germania sta morendo." I agreed, hardly noticing I had slipped into his native tongue. He laughed merrily at me. 

      "So, you know more than just the language of your home. Tell me, when did you pick up the Italian tongue?" 

      I huffed indignantly. "For your information, I speak many languages, not just German. I had a lot of free time when I was little, so I taught myself how to speak with other peoples. It's very important for a Benard to be able to communicate in any situation. It's all very... interessante, no?" 

     He laughed brightly. "It's absurd if you ask me. Aren't there translation spells that could save you all the extra trouble? You have a gift that the human population doesn't, so use it."

     "I do use it- it's called having a brain." I stuck out my tongue at Marcel and he just rolled his eyes. Though I started to laugh again, my glee was quickly cut short. I felt a small pin-prick of pain on my head, and I almost immediately doubled over in agony. "Shit!" I groaned, grabbing his hand and ducking into a nearby shop. "We've been noticed."

     "What?" He exclaimed, eyes wide in shock. "What do you mean, noticed? We should still have plenty of time for that elixir of yours. Who saw us?"

     "Not a who." I corrected him, peering out the shop window. "A what. An Echo, to be exact." I sighed. "I don't know what it wants, but we're gonna be stuck here for a while."

     "Excuse me?! An Echo? You can't be serious. All the Echo are gone, Rebecca! They disappeared after the first Great War!" He hissed quietly.

     "Oh, no. They never disappeared. They've just been hiding. And I've felt this type of presence only once before." Images flashed before my mind- the pouring rain, a flash of lighting, dark feathers falling from the sky. I remembered rushing down the stairs of my home, following the trail of downy feathers from the back deck all the way to a shed. The door was slightly ajar. There was a deep scarlet hue tinting the feathers close to the ajar door. I pulled the door the rest of the way, and-

     "You know the stories about the Echo, don't you?" Marcel shuddered. "Wings of black ash, and hair of the same. They prey on fresh blood and flesh- and they don't care what or who it comes from. What if... what if that's where the hybrids went?!" His voice quivered involuntarily. 

     I laughed, looking at him incredulously. "Oh, come on, you don't actually believe that, do you? Those are fairy tales mothers and fathers use to scare their children into listening. 'Don't go out in the dark or the Echo's gonna get you!' Please, as if." I shook my head. 

     "Well... well if you don't believe it, why did you drag me in here?" He frowned. "You're just as afraid as I am. You don't have any way to be sure that the stories aren't true, do you?"

     Again, my mind wandered back to that night. When I opened the door, I stared in both wonder and horror.

   "It's okay," I said, smiling kindly, over my initial shock. "You're hurt, please don't move. I'll come back with something to tend to those wounds." I rushed inside, retrieved a first aid kit from the kitchen, and came back. The man eyed me wildly. "I'm going to come closer, okay? I have to dress the wounds before they get infected." He growled, but allowed me to inch slowly near him. I reached for the pitch black wing and found it to be ripped and ragged. I poured some water over it to clean the cut, covered it with cotton, and wrapped it gingerly with gauze. He winced and snarled as I worked, but he refrained from attacking. I sat back, proud of my handiwork. "There we go. It'll be good as new in a couple weeks. You'll have to stay hidden until then. I'll keep you company for tonight." Not quite fearless, I tried to relax my body as I settled in next to the stranger. He looked at me quizzically.

     "You, ah, are not afraid of me?" His accent was thick- I recognized it to be American, and I smiled. "Most are afraid, for one reason or another."

     "You've given me no reason to fear. You're just a person, like me. Why be afraid?" I lied, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

     I shook my head at Marcel. "Just because I don't think Echo are aggressive in general doesn't mean we want to be approached by one. We're trying to blend in, not alert every member of Magick-kind in a ten kilometer radius that there's something... unnatural afoot."

     "Well, we seem to have wandered into a baker's store. Perhaps we should browse their wares before they become suspicious." Marcel straightened up and walked toward the counter. Some basic bread rolls and buns were displayed in a case, and my mouth watered at the thought of a slice of some local cheesecake. "Excuse me?" He hollered back into the kitchen. "We'd like to buy something!"

     A round old man with a bald head wandered out of the back, looking gruffly at the two of us. "What'll be your pleasure, sir?" He bellowed deeply. 

     "A hot honey bun, if you'd please, and whatever my lady's heart desires." Marcel smiled sickeningly sweetly to me. I smiled back, planting my foot firmly on his. 

     "Oh, sorry, dear." My attention turned back to the baker. "One slice of your finest cheesecake, sir."

    He grunted in understanding, totaled up our cost, and Marcel paid him accordingly. We sat down outside and ate our treats, though I still stayed on guard for any winged creatures on the rooftops or down the alleyways. Yet, I spotted none. Perhaps that nudge had simply been in passing- a reminder of my previous kindness. i wasn't so sure. 

     Marcel stood from his seat and smiled to me, extending a hand to help me up. "Shall we push onward?" 

    I stood myself up, ignoring his hand, and pulled my cloak around me tightly. "Yeah, let's go. This part of town gives me the creeps, anyway."