Young Writers Society

3

They were inside the inn. The moment they all walked inside, Emily had skipped up to the singular staff member at the front desk and talked to him for a minute. He pointed to a door with a sign that Zita couldn’t read and she had gone through it. Zita kept glancing around nervously. Kivvien had mentioned this place, she remembered. ‘Ask for Imani’, he had said. She bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to make a break for it. Yeah, Emily hadn’t proven herself particularly untrustworthy, but that didn’t mean she was to be trusted. The new foster kid hadn’t seemed untrustworthy either, then he almost broke her wrist. She stayed at the back of the group with one eye on the door.

Emily returned a minute later with a tall, thin woman. Emily pulled her forward by the wrist like an over-eager child dragging their mother into a toy store. The younger kids were bouncing much like Zita was, though she figured it was for very different reasons. The woman laughed and followed along, mock tugging on her arm as she went as if to free it.

They reached the waiting group, attracting no attention in the empty foyer. Zita backed up a little more, wishing more and more that she had gone with the nomads as she heard their wagons take off down the road. Maybe if I run…, but then Emily was right next to her, somehow and she had their arms linked together.

“Zita,” Emily said with a wider-than-usual grin, “This is Imani.” She swept an arm dramatically at the dark-skinned woman. Zita’s breath stopped. Okay, okay, calm down. Maybe Kivvien was really trying to help you. This isn’t a trap. Maybe. The calm and collected side of her was trying to get her to breathe again. Meanwhile, the other side of her was running in circles with her arms thrown up in the air as she screamed her non-existent lungs out.

Zita was apparently frozen for too long because Emily gave her a weird look and proceeded to introduce the other kids to Imani. The woman smiled warmly at all of them and knelt down to their level, the dragonfly wings on her back fluttering as she did so. Zita didn’t remember what happened next, only that her head was spinning and she wasn’t feeling well, but apparently, Imani gave them directions to a room and a key. Emily was left to lead the stiff cyr to their shared room. Zita shook herself from her stupor as soon as it was just the two of them.

“What was that about?” asked Emily, “I mean, I know you’re not that good around people, but that was something else.”

Zita’s pulse thumped in her ears. Should I tell her? She asked herself, No.

No no no no no, responded the part of her that was still in a panic as it huddled under a blanket, shivering, no no no.

Be cautious about it. Be vague. Said the calm side helpfully, for once. Zita took a deep breath and let it out, “I just...I’ve heard of this place before,” She said, wringing her hands.

Emily tilted her head, “What did you hear?” She asked, confused.

Zita shook her head, “It was more who said it than what was said.” her eyes darted around. What if he was there?

Emily facepalmed with a groan, “Who’d you run into?” She sighed in exasperation, sounding very much like this had happened a million times before.

It was Zita’s turn to be puzzled, “He said his name was Kivvien…”

Emily groaned louder, “Let me guess, you ran into trouble, he showed up, he absolutely failed to give you any real explanation after he got you out of trouble? Green and orange coat, brown hair?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and peeked at Zita around her hand.

The look on Zita’s face must have answered the question because Emily muttered, “For the love of the gods I a going to kill him.” And turned to the pair of beds, pacing back and forth from the door to the bed, “Sorry about him,” She rambled, “He’s done that before. So I’m assuming he gave you that amulet then? It’s his usual combination of runes, I just figured you made it, but that was stupid, no one else uses the symbol of Krista with the symbol of Kison,” She groaned and ran her fingers through her hair, knocking her hat to the ground, “Sorry,” She stopped and faced Zita, who was staring at her with her mouth agape, “he’s a little intimidating when you’re not used to him, but he was right to give you that amulet, it’s probably why I found you,” She laughed.

Zita’s head reeled with new information, “You mean...you know him?” She asked dumbly.

Emily laughed again, “I’ll clarify, he’s a protector. This place is what we call a ‘Kid Stop’, a kind of ‘safe haven’ for people without other homes, especially kids, thus the name. He’s one of the people who protect them. I actually trained him, so he’s really good.” She gave a cocky smirk and plopped onto the bed.

Zita rolled her eyes, finally processing the new information. “Could you get any cockier?” She teased and moved to sit next to her friend.

Emily stretched onto her back and tucked her hands under her head, “You should have met Napoleon when he was a kid.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face.

Zita just stared down at her, shaking her head. “So,” Zita said, after a short pause, “What was Kivvien doing outside of Nonti?”

Emily shrugged or tried to, the effect was more like the moving of her elbows in a poor imitation of wings, “Heck if I know. He moves around a lot, finds lost kids, breaks up the smaller trafficking rings, gets homeless people to a nearby Kid Stop, that kinda stuff. I was actually doing the same thing, well, finding lost kids mostly, and homeless people, who want homes, that is. The nomads are perfectly happy as they are, but they were happy to give us all a ride.” She suddenly rolled backward, landing between the two beds perfectly, “But enough of that, if you want to know more about Kivvien, you can ask him when he gets here in two days. He might want his amulet back, but you’ll have to offer-” she rolled her eyes, “-that boy is incapable of confronting anyone if he thinks it’ll inconvenience them.” She gestured at both the beds, “Which do you want? I’m gonna go get our stuff from downstairs.”

Zita picked the one she was sitting on and Emily grinned, “Perfect, I like being further from the window anyway. Now, me, bags, you, stay.” She pointed at the floor to make her point. Zita rolled her eyes once again but affirmed that she would do as she was told. Emily took that as an answer and jogged out of the room. Up the wall. On the ceiling. That cheater. Zita knew there was a reason she was so good at her little game besides practice. She huffed at the still-open door and lay down on her bed to wait. She would have been more than willing to help with the bags, but she had a feeling Emily would be more displeased than anything at her attempts.

She waved a hand in the air, channeling just a little magic into it, not really thinking about a particular spell as she pondered the wings that lay bound in bandaged behind her as she lay on her side. Will I be able to learn to fly when they heal? The air pressure dropped around her and gravity’s pull on her lessened. Her eyes went wide, her focus dropped. The spell vanished as quickly.

She bolted upright and tried it again. Fly, she thought as she waved her hand again, channeling just a little more magic this time. Nothing. She grunted her frustration and tried again, absently tugging at a strand of hair as she concentrated. Still, nothing happened.

She was about to try again when Emily returned, or, she thought it was Emily. It was hard to tell with the crisscrossed duffle bags on her back and the stack of suitcases in her arms. She walked easily into the room despite her load and dropped her stuff on the second bed. There was a moment when no one said anything, Emily being preoccupied with digging through a large carpet bag, which must have been enchanted with an extending charm, because she almost vanished into it, and Zita was too amused at her struggle to say anything.

“Hey,” She broke the silence with a barely-concealed laugh, “want some help?”

Emily jumped and actually did fall in the bag. Zita’s extension theory proved true when her entire, albeit small, body disappeared into it. Zita muffled her laughter behind a hand. She heard Emily grunt, “I’m good thanks.” Her hands appeared on the edges of the bag and she hefted herself out of it, “And that wasn’t funny.”

Zita stopped trying to suppress her laughter, “But it really was,” She said when she could breathe again. Emily mock-scowled and got back to digging through her things.

“Do you want this?” She held up a piece of dark purple cloth with one hand without turning around.

“What is it?” Zita asked, getting up and taking it. It unfolded to reveal a dress, with flared sleeves and a wide neckline, “Sure,” She said without Emily saying anything.

“Perfect, now, dinner should be starting soon, so we should get ready.” She grabbed one of her bags, this one a large beach bag that had been in one of the suitcases, and said, “The shower’s mine first, you get it next.” With that, she sped past Zita and into the attached bathroom. Zita sat down and waited her turn as she heard the water turn on. A few minutes later (a half hour) Emily walked out with her hair wrapped in a towel and a pair of striped pajamas. Zita took her turn and changed into a green nightgown Emily lent her.

“Okay,” Emily said once the two of them were sitting across from each other on their respective beds, all clean and one of Emily’s bags on Zita’s side full of things that Emily had dubbed hers while she was in the shower, “supper is served in ten minutes, so we can either get it sent up here or we can go downstairs and eat in the dining hall, I don’t care which so you get to choose.”

Zita considered for a second, “Can we stay up here?” She really didn’t want to hang out in a swarm of people right now.

“Sure,” Emily chirped and shifted to sit on her knees. She waved them in front of her and the yellow hue of her magic flickered in the air momentarily. The words “Room service” glowed before her, and beneath them, her order.

“What do you want?” She asked Zita, not looking up from her spell. Zita told her and the words joined Emily’s. With a gesture and a flash of yellow, the words dissolved. When the food arrived, Emily retrieved it and the pair ate it in their beds while chatting and playing the wide variety of board games Emily had somehow managed to pack in a single case, an impressive feat even with extension charms. Everyone knew those only did so much.

All was well until they tried Apples to Apples. “You can’t read!” Emily exclaimed, throwing down her cards.

Zita drew back, “It’s not my fault,” She defended.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault!” Emily’s aggression didn’t die down one bit, “Whoever neglected to teach you deserves the worst of punishments! Not being able to read is probably the worst curse imaginable!”

“You’re not making me feel better,” Zita grumbled, stacking her cards in a neat pile.

“No, don’t put those away, I’m going to teach you,” She practically threw herself next to Zita on the bed.

“You’re going to teach me to read?” Zita arched a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yes, I’m going to teach you to read, now, cards.” She held out a palm. Zita placed her deck in it, still doubtful. The ensuing lesson had to be the most bizarre thing Zita would ever experience. Emily had taken out a piece of paper and a set of pencils, then written out the alphabet on every other line and instructed Zita to copy them while Emily told her what sound they made. At one point Emily had waved a hand in a spell and pressed her glowing fingertips to Zita’s temple. After that, Zita never, until the day she died, forgot the exact words Emily used to describe how each letter was used, which were vowels and what that meant, how to spell the words on each of the cards Zita had been dealt, and how to spell her, Emily, Kivvien, and Imani’s names.

When Emily removed her fingers the sudden rush of energy that had filled Zita vanished, and her mind went momentarily blank. There was a moment where the new information seemed to fill her mind, scrolling through it like movie credits as her brain committed it all to memory. Emily flashed a grin, “That’ll be all for tonight,” She said, placing the decks of cards back into the box and sweeping their food wrappers and plates onto the floor. Zita agreed and got up to turn off the lights while Emily burrowed into her blankets. She slept soundly that night, her dreams filled with words and letters.

☽O☾

The next day went by in a blur of games and Emily repeated displaying her previously hidden talent of standing on the walls and ceiling, somehow managing to keep her hair swinging at her waist and her hat on her head as she showed her apparent dislike for the floor. Some of the kids left with groups that arrived every few hours, more protectors, Emily had said as she saw them off, arriving to take them to other Kid Stops, to keep them spread out and undetected. The word Emily used for it was ‘bittersweet’. The day after, however, was a bit more memorable.

“Good morning!” Emily greeted loudly at the crack of dawn. Zita groaned and hid her face with a pillow. “Come on!” Emily chided, trying to tug the thing off, “Kivvien’s coming! I want to be down there when he gets here, and I can’t have you missing breakfast, so GET UP!” She gave up on the pillow and yanked off Zita’s blanket.

“Hey!” Zita yelped, trying to grab it back.

Emily gathered it in her arms and ran out of reach, “No, get up. You need to eat.”

Zita rubbed the sleep from her eyes and got up, grumbling the whole time, “Fine.”

Emily grinned and dropped Zita’s blanket on her bed in a heap as the cyr shuffled to the bathroom. A few minutes later both girls were dressed and headed downstairs. While Emily skipped with a smile, Zita shuffled with a frown, down the steps to the dining hall.

Zita duly recognized the stuff on her plate as eggs of some kind as she nibbled it without actually tasting a thing. In contrast, Emily was bouncing in her seat as she shoved the stuff in her mouth by the forkful.

“How are you so awake?” Zita grumbled, picking apart a chunk of egg-stuff.

Emily gulped down her food, “It’s been two months since I’ve seen Kivvien,” She said quickly, “I’m just really excited.” she shoveled some more food in her mouth and Zita went back to picking at hers. It was a long while before anything happened. Zita threw most of her food into the compost bin and Emily spent a great deal of the wait time pacing the ceiling while Zita napped with her head in her arms on the table. None of the other kids were crazy enough to be up at this hour, but, eventually, Imani joined the pair in the lobby. She sat down next to where Zita had moved onto a cushioned bench and smiled up at the still-pacing Emily above them.

Her buzzed off hair was covered with a patterned and she wore a comfortable-looking poncho that covered the wings folded neatly on her back, “How are your wings feeling, sweetheart?” She asked, her smile lines crinkling at the corners of her eyes and mouth as she showed her slightly-crooked white teeth to the half-sleeping girl.

“I hate my roommate,” She grumbled in response, glaring up at Emily.

Imani laughed, a musical sound, “You’ll get used to her,” she promised, “She’s prone to random acts like this. It’s best to just go with it in the moment and catch up on sleep later.” Her light-hearted words were of little comfort to Zita. She was tired. She would get sleep if it was the last thing she did.

Emily had begun to circle the rustic chandelier, her hands sparking and popping with yellow light as she fidgeted. “Would you like something to drink? You’re probably not that hungry at this hour.” Zita nodded, her eyes drooping shut and Imani got up and went through the door she had come through two days before, presumably to the kitchen, though Zita had never been told. Right now, she didn’t particularly care, though, as she lay down across the bench and dozed for the few minutes it took Imani to come back with a cup of tea for both of them and a blanket for Zita. The cyr didn’t question the blanket, she just took it with a grateful smile and wrapped it around herself, glad that she didn’t have to work around her still-numb wings.

“Emily tells me you’ve met Kivvien before?” Imani said, and took a sip of her tea.

Zita wasn’t sure how her head ended up on Imani’s shoulder, but it was there when she nodded, “I met him just before Emily,” She mumbled.

“He scared you, she said?”

“Mmhm,” Zita sipped her own tea, savoring the bitter taste as she did.

“Well, I ‘ought to have a chat with him about his social skills,” She laughed and gave Zita’s shoulders a squeeze.

“Maybe,” Zita mumbled once again, closing her eyes.

“Speaking of which, I believe the boy himself has arrived.” She placed her tea on the end table next to the bench and stood. Zita sat up with a groan as the double doors creaked open. In a flash too quick for Zita’s cotton-stuffed brain to comprehend, Emily had tackled the green-clad protector in an embrace with a shriek, “KIVVIEN!”

“Oomph, hey Emily,” He wheezed through his currently-being-crushed lungs.

She clambered off of him and dragged him to his feet before he could get his bearings, so he almost fell over as soon as he was upright. Once he regained his balance a half-second later, Emily snatched his wrist and dragged him over to where Zita was rubbing her eyes and holding the blanket up around her shoulders.

“KivvienKivvienKivvien, this is Zita!” She Exclaimed, bouncing, “Ofcourseyouknewthat because you’ve met before and all that. She’s my roommate.” She was talking so fast it was hard to tell when one word ended and another began.

It took him a moment, but Kivvien’s face lit up with recognition, “It’s you!” He realized, “Um, hi?” He looked to Imani for help, but she just crossed her arms and looked amused from a distance.

“Hey, we’ve met, can I go to bed now?” Zita wasn’t awake enough for filters.

Emily, however, was more awake than Zita had ever seen her, “Kivvien,” She whirled to him, either not hearing or choosing not to answer Zita’s question. Zita scowled. “We have to get you to your room, it’s over there-” She pointed to the hall to her right, “-number 112.”

“I’ll find it, thanks, Emily. I think your roommate wants to get back to bed, so I’ll see you when the sun’s actually up.” He laughed and followed Imani down the hall, he and Emily waving each other off as the pair split ways.

Emily was as bouncy as ever as she dragged Zita back up to their room and they both went back to bed. Or, at least, Zita thought they both did. For all she knew, Emily paced the ceiling all night, but she knew she was out like a light the moment she was under her covers, with the addition of the blanket Imani had brought her.

When it was properly morning, or rather, noon, Zita awoke to Emily digging deeper than the bottom of one of her suitcases. Zita sat up and stretched with a yawn, “G'morning,” She greeted, blinking the last of the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning sleepy head, it’s noon.” Emily sat up and huffed, “Have you seen my Dracula book anywhere?”

“No-” Zita kicked her legs free of the covers, “-did you lose it?”

Emily threw her hands up in exasperation, “Obviously,” she groaned, running a black-gloved hand over her face, “It was right here-” She gestured to the suitcase she had been digging in, “But now its just,” She made a ‘poof’ motion with her hands, “gone.”

Zita swung her legs over the edge of the bed, “Did you put it in a different suitcase?” She made her way to the bathroom to deal with the rats' nest on her head.

“I tried there!” Emily exclaimed.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you.” Zita grabbed the brush Emily had given her from her unsettlingly large collection and tried to work it through the tips of her hair.

“But where could it be!”

“I don’t know!” Zita slowly tamed her wild hair into the slightly-frizzy mass that she usually had framing her face.

She heard the sounds of bags unzipping and stuff being moved around. She sighed and continued her work. Once she finished she beheld the unimpressive sight in the mirror. She nodded, perfect. Best to blend in. The mantra repeated in her head. A new location didn’t always mean new rules. It was always best to go unnoticed. You never know what’s going to happen until it does.

Zita left the bathroom to find Emily sitting in the middle of a disaster zone. There was stuff everywhere. Books, clothes, packs of sweets, games, and anything else Zita could imagine being in a suitcase, excluding, for some reason, the longbow that looked to be nearly as tall as Emily and certainly impossible for her to draw. The vampire herself was rooting through a bright orange suitcase, throwing out item after item in grown frustration.

“Isn’t there a spell or something to help you find it,” Zita asked, leaning against the wall.

“It’s not alive.” She yanked a stubborn hardcover from the case, looked at the front, and tossed it away, “Finding magic needs a life-force to lock onto. How did you not know that?” She yanked out another book and discarded it.

Zita bit back her retort as the answer to that question flashed behind her eyes.

“Why don’t you just get a new copy later? I’m sure they sell it somewhere you could go.”

Emily sighed, “Because I wrote in this one, all my notes are in it! And it's a signed first-edition, I can’t just get a new one!”

“Okay, okay,” Zita rolled her eyes, “How about we find it later? Maybe you missed it, and you’ll find it if you look at it with fresh eyes later on.”

Emily’s eyes scanned the mess once more, then she nodded, “Maybe you’re right,” She relented, “I’ll come back later.” She got to her feet and stepped onto the wall to get over the mess, then followed Zita out of the room via the ceiling.

When they got downstairs, Kivvien was in the middle of a cleared out area of the dining room with a group of over a dozen toddlers. A little troll boy sat in his lap playing with a stuffed doll while a group was playing tag within the confines of the table-barrier that was set up around them. He was braiding a little girls hair when he saw the pair get off the stairs. He flashed them a smile and finished his task. He said something to the little girl and she giggled, running off to play with the others. He hefted the boy into his arms and propped him up on his hip, then walked over to the table where the girls were waiting.

“Hey Em, Zita,” He greeted them.

“Hey-a, Kiv!” Said Emily with a grin while Zita just nodded.

“You girls wanna help me out in here or do you have other stuff to do?” Kivvien asked, turned slightly so he could watch the playing children.

“Naw, we can help, Zita?”

Zita shrugged, “Sure.” She could handle the younger kids, she thought.

Emily, already being on the ceiling, just walked in and dropped gracefully to the floor. Zita, however, had to clamber over the table with her wings weighing her back. Kivvien Put down the kid and climbed up on his side to help her over, “There you go,” he said once she had made it over and he had picked the boy back up.

“Thanks,” She said awkwardly. There was a too-long pause, then Kivvien seemed to remember he had a job and turned to do it. Zita followed suit and soon the trio was each playing with the kids.

Zita found that she was right, the younger kids were much easier to be around, and soon she was telling them made-up stories and letting them teach her some of their own games and stories. Meanwhile, Emily regaled her followers with probably-exaggerated-but-true tales about Chorismagian history and Kivvien played simple games and had very invested conversations with the ones that gathered around him.

Zita would never admit it afterward, but she liked it just then. She liked the simplicity of it. The way every kid was accounted for and smiling. The way she got to make the little kids smile. Too bad it had to end so soon.