The Undead Pool

“What the mother pus bucket is wrong with her!” Al said, peeved as she ran across the broken earth. She was headed for the dry riverbed, and she jumped right over it, red-stained white nightgown streaming out behind her. Sighing, Al looked at the jar he’d gotten from her. Handing it to Trent, he began trudging after her. Not even glancing at it, Trent passed it to me, and after a moment, I jogged to catch up, jar pressed to my side.

“Newt, love!” Al was calling. “Tell me about your fireflies!”

“That demon is certifiable,” Trent said, voice low as we lagged behind. “How can they let her wander around like this?”

Al was waiting for us at the shallow ditch, and he took the jar as I slid down, then I caught it as he tossed it to me. “Because she might just be the most sane demon here,” he said when Trent slid down after me. “I haven’t been able to decide if stress pushes her over the edge, or if when she starts digging into her past, she simply loses her way, but usually it’s because she’s remembered something important.”

I started up the other side, startled when Newt’s face, somehow both sickly and lively, peered over the edge at me. “Rachel!” she crowed, a thin white hand extended to help me up. “I think they like you!” She pulled back before I could take her hand, and I scrambled up, jar tucked under an arm.

“Oh, so pretty!” Newt was saying as she danced, her bare feet among the stones and her hands in the air as she caught nothing. “Look at them light up!”

“Newt . . .” I started, then my head snapped up as the prickling of wild magic flowed over me. Goose bumps rose, and I set the jar down to help Trent. “Get up here!” I hissed, then gasped at the feeling of sexual titillation that poured through me as his hand smacked into mine. “Holy crap,” I breathed.

“Rachel?”

I yanked him up, sitting down where I was as his hand left mine and he stood at the edge of the gully. “Can you feel that?” I squeaked, waves of sparkles cascading through me. It was wild magic, stronger and more unfocused than I’d ever felt before. It was easier to bear if Trent wasn’t touching me, but disconcerted, I held that glass jar to me and just sat there, wishing it would both stop and never end.

“That’s . . . what is that?” Trent said as he watched Newt dance in delight, shivering.

“Feel what?” Al snarled as he stood beside Trent. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Wild magic,” I said, still sitting as the sensation began to ease. “It’s the wave. It’s happening.” Alarmed, I looked at Newt. “Newt!” I called. “Don’t do any magic!”

Spinning and dancing, Newt laughed, the sound pulling all expression from Al’s face. “Look at them!” she sang, catching nothing. “They’re swarming! Hurry! We need them for when the sky falls!”

“Wild magic?” Al whispered in a sudden horror, and I yelped when he yanked me to my feet. “You little bitch!” he shouted, shaking me so hard I lost my hold on the jar and it fell, breaking. “I told you to leave the wild magic alone!”

“You’re hurting me!” I shouted, and Newt turned, her dancing stilling to a cold silence.

“He is an elf!” Al raged, his grip becoming even tighter.

“I haven’t done anything!” I protested. “Al. Let me go!” I couldn’t do magic. Not with the wave still over us.

“Let her go! You’re hurting her,” Trent said, and the demon’s grip tightened, his eyes almost black in the sun.

“And you’re going to make me?” Al said, each word drifting into existence with the sound of falling dust.

Grim faced, Trent stood before us, the hair falling into his eyes as sparkles seemed to dance between his fingers. Al shoved me from him, and I lurched to keep my feet. The demon was hunched like a bear, his feet easing deeper into the ruined earth. Don’t do this, I begged them silently as I backed up. Please don’t do this.

“Right now, I probably could,” Trent said.

“I’d like to see you try,” Al taunted.

“Stop it!” I shouted as Trent made a fist. I could feel the wild magic streaming into him. Al took an eager breath, and I dove for Trent, plowing into him and knocking him down. The red earth slammed into us. My shoulder twinged, and I flung a hand out. “Rhombus!” I screamed, cowering as Al’s magic slammed into the barrier.

My heart thudded. Beside me, Trent rolled to a crouch. He was pissed.

“I will not be bullied,” Trent snapped as he pushed me into my circle and the barrier fell, tingles of magic exploding into cramps until the force ran back to the line. And then he was gone as Al physically grabbed him, yanking him up and away.

“Stop it! Both of you!” I shouted as I rose. They were grappling, waves of energy sparkling in the ever-after sun. He wouldn’t be bullied. Damn it, I was the one who taught him to stand up to bullies, ages ago at camp. And now it was going to kill him.

Trent screamed in pain, and then Al flung him away, his own cry of agony lost in the gritty wind. Magic exploded in a white-hot flash of silence between them, and I cowered, hands over my head.