Aine Crabtree - The Thief

I reached out to touch one of the mirrors - wondering if the surface would change, like the one in the orchard - but it merely remained reflective of the room.

Suddenly Rhys cried out, being snapped back against the wall and wrapped in vines. They even twisted over his mouth to silence him. Hemlock climbed into the window, using the vines as handholds. He stepped gracefully to the floor and surveyed the room. “The workshop,” he said appreciatively. “Fiona brought me here once...now there was a talent. If you were Fiona this might be going differently,” he grinned at Rhys, who glared and twisted in his bonds. “Or even Soren. Everyone talks about Soren, but all he did was build on her work. You Ryans and your patriarchy.”

Hemlock took my arm and pulled me with him towards the line of standing mirrors. “One of these should do,” Hemlock said, touching the surface of one briefly. “He’s turned them all off,” he frowned. “He thought of everything, didn’t he? Everything but you.” He gave me a shake. “Turn it back on.”

“I’m not a Mirrormaker, I can’t - ”

“No, you’re a Harbinger,” Hemlock said, his emerald eyes flashing. “And a Null besides. You can - ”

He cried out, falling. The floor had crumbled under his feet and he clutched at the edge of the hole, dangling. I backed away, but another hand gripped my shoulder like a vice. I turned to look up at the man I’d called my father. He held the iron sword in his other hand - so plain a weapon - and his expression was empty.

“Dad,” I said, “What are you - ”

A searing pain through my ribs. A heaviness, a foreign chill. The crack of glass behind me as I knocked back into a mirror. I looked down. The hilt protruded from my chest. My hand came up to touch it, disbelieving. Blood flowed freely from the wound, straight through my heart.

Oh.

Camille

Back across the lawn between the cafe and the school. All the world is smell and sound. I am free, unfettered. As I should be. I dive over hedges and sprint under the trees, faster than the wind. I catch a branch above me and swing, exulting in my power. It snaps and crashes to the ground, and I twist in midair to land deftly on top of it. I grin, but then just as fast the grin is gone. Trees are all well and good, but there is no satisfaction in it. No justice.

I want to hurt someone who deserves it.

I’ve been holding back for so long, trapped under words like calm and temperance and that most hated, most limiting of all words: compassion . I never want to feel sympathy again. I used to be like this all the time, back when I had free run of the streets of Tokyo. Before Gabriel dampened my blood. Why had I run from the cafe? I could go give that so-called ‘Ender’ what was coming to her...

I can feel lightning in my veins, and the only iron I have now is in my fists. I smile at my own metaphor, fingers clenched tightly as I inspect my knuckles. Small hands, to be sure. But that made it all the better. No one would ever expect me. They never did.

I catch a scent on the wind and my head turns. My blood boils fresh as it conjures up images in my mind. Her standing assured and haughty in her ridiculous hair and expensive clothes, the snide little comments at Jul’s expense. The way she sneers at Mac in public. Destin’s heartbeat going erratic whenever she comes near, just to see her ignore him. If they gave a prize for exploitation of love, it would be hers. Justice, incoming. My fingers flex and a grin of pure certainty crosses my face.

I am going to kill Hayley.

I bound across the schoolyard, unencumbered. I don’t care if she hears me. It wouldn’t matter. She’s human, human, human. I can smell it now, I am dead certain. With a nose like this I know what everything is. Extra human with human on top. She will be so easy. Too easy. I’ll just have to remind myself of the wonderful irony that the girl who thinks herself the most powerful within the walls of this building is in fact one of the most helpless. I should tell her that, I think. I’d like to see the look on her face.

Then I catch sight of her in the dusk and my blood pounds, ringing in my ears. I think, just kill her. Flesh. Limbs. Claws. Justice. They’d thank me. Worthless girl.

She’s seated on a park-style bench in the garden area between the gymnasium and the forest. Moonlight glints off her honey-gold hair. Her head is in her hands and I can smell the saline and mascara.

She’s crying. I laugh, and it startles her. Looking up, she rubs her eyes quickly, calling out, “Who’s there?”

“All alone in the woods?” I say, emerging through the trees.

“Camille?” Her defiant look becomes uneasy as she sees me in the light of the moon. “What’s going on?”

A grin spreads across my face. She clutches her purse to her, leaning away instinctively.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that, right?” I tell her.

“I...I don’t understand,” she stutters. Hayley, stuttering. And quivering like a rabbit. The queen in all her glory. God, this was a good night.

“You think you can get away with treating us like crap.” I snarl in her face. “No more. I’m ending your story right now.”

“What are you saying?” she exclaims, scrambling up from the bench. Let her try to run. She won’t get more than two steps in those ridiculous heels before I rip her throat open.

“You’re speaking to her in Japanese, you moron. She doesn’t understand you.”

I hadn’t smelled him. I whirl, and there’s Kei Sakamoto standing behind me, hands in his pockets. Where had he come from? And why couldn’t I smell him? It was like he didn’t exist.

He stretches lazily, lacing his fingers over his head. “You ducked out on your presentation, Lassie. Miller’s really going to dock your grade.”

My lip curls. I’m not here to chat. I’m busy. I turn back to Hayley, but now Sakamoto is standing between me and her.

He couldn’t have moved that fast. My gaze zips between where he was and where he stands now.

“Hayley’s no fun,” Sakamoto says. “Not for you. Want to play with me instead?”

“Get out of my way,” I say. A rumble sounds deep in my chest.

“Jul Graham is dead,” he says.

What? My head spins. The angry red pulse in my mind blanks to white. He must be lying. He has to be. My friend.

“What!” Hayley exclaims. “How?”

“Well, honestly I had no idea what Simon wanted it for when he commissioned me to find the Tailor’s Sword, but it seems pretty clear now,” he says, offhand.

My eyes travel unbidden to my overpale, pockmarked left arm. My friend.

The red pulse kicks back in, building steadily.

“Every day you walked through these doors with the only thing that could kill her strapped to your arm,” Kei says, amused. “Pretty heavy stuff. Her being dead, I mean, but man, that bracer was pretty heavy too.”

I roar and dive at him. Hayley runs away into the night screaming.

I swipe at him, and he ducks, spinning under my swing. How could he be so callous? Was this all really just some source of entertainment to him? Never mind. I’m busy. My vision is hazing red. When I paint the sidewalk with his insides he won’t find it all so funny.

I leap at him and he falls to his back, planting his feet in my ribs and launching me over him. I land in an easy roll and spring back to my feet, ready for anything.

But he’s not there.

“Let’s play a game,” comes his voice. I can’t pinpoint it. It seems to come from the trees.

“Hide and seek, maybe,” he says. I spin. This time it sounds like he’s behind me, towards the forest. But I see nothing.