Harvest: Faction 1: (The Isa Fae Collection) Read online

  “I’m trying to focus,” I said, pulling even more golden energy from the trunk. How much magic did this thing hold anyway? “It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about the Box.”

  “The Box?” he asked, his unibrow crinkling into a dented mass over his dark eyes.

  I nodded, surprised to find I was sweating. “One of the people called into it the other day—the last person actually—I knew him.”

  “Good for you,” he said quickly, his eyes moving to the energy and the way it wobbled as I transported it to the cauldron.

  “But it wasn’t good.” I sighed. “It wasn’t good at all.” I blinked, finding as much moisture behind my eyelids as I had on my forehead. “He was very important to me.”

  “They always are when you’re that age, princess,” he muttered, his attention obviously more on the magic than anything I was saying.

  A shot of anger rang through my body. It wasn’t because he was barely listening to me. That was fine. What aggravated me was how quick he was to dismiss my completely valid and genuine feelings.

  “It wasn’t like that.” I huffed. “I’m not some spoiled child holding her breath because she can’t have what she wants.”

  The magic faltered again as I moved it closer to the cauldron. The idea that I’d pulled too much at once settled over me, but I pushed it down. The magic was out. There was nothing I could do about it now.

  “It wouldn’t matter if you were,” Albion shot back. “The Box is the Box, princess. It doesn’t play favorites. We’re all orphans once we get in there.”

  “And how would you know that?” I asked, almost challenging him with my tone.

  “Your guy,” Albion said, strolling a few steps away but still eying me carefully. “He got a name?”

  “Karr,” I answered, my hands shaking as I did my best to keep the golden energy on track toward its destination.

  “Well, I had a Karr, too, princess. Her name was Bea,” he said, pacing back toward me again. “Third year of eligibility, and she went right into the Box. Do you think the elders cared that I loved her? You think they gave half a hoot that we had planned our lives together? All they saw was meat—more food for the monster.” He shook his head and settled in front of me. “That was all she was in the end. I’m afraid that’s all your Karr is, too.” He reached for my hand. “Doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you, though.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked, instinctively jerking back.

  When I did, the magic I’d been holding in place burst out of my control. The wild golden energy flew everywhere, shooting enormously dangerous tentacles as far as the eye could see.

  “Trying to stop that, you dolt,” Albion muttered.

  His hands were deft and nimble as he pulled the energy toward him, folding it into tight lines and directing it toward the cauldron with more ease than I could have mustered regardless of how much practice I had.

  “We lost at least ten percent, thanks to you,” he growled, all kindness gone from his voice now.

  I looked at the destruction I’d just caused, at the scorched factory walls, the shattered panes of glass, and the dumbstruck looks on the faces of my coworkers. The gravity of the situation called out to me.

  “I-I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  “Don’t care about your sorry,” he barked back. “Neither do the floor or the walls, much less the mountain of paperwork I’m going to have to fill out because of this, or the dozens of people in this room who you could have killed because you were thinking about a boy.” His dark eyes seared into me. “I know how it is, princess. I swear, I do. But you’re going to have to move it past it. Otherwise, it’s going to eat you right up, and then the Box will have taken both of you.”

  “Look—”

  “Look, nothing,” he said. He motioned toward the door. “Just get out of here.”

  “But I—”

  “Nope,” he said, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Until you can get it together, you’ve got no business in my factory.”

  “I’ll fix it. I’ll use my own atern magic to restore everything in here.”

  “More likely to make things worse… with your track record,” he said. “Just leave now and be thankful you’ll have a full bar of atern on the way out.”

  I leaned forward, suddenly embarrassed. “But I need this money,” I said, unable to keep the begging tone from my voice. “This is my last night in House One. I have nowhere to go.”

  He glared at me, an almost wistful look on his face. “Guess you should have thought about that before you came to work half-minded. Welcome to the real faction, princess. It ain’t always pretty.”

  I told Arbor everything as we packed the last of our clothes into our bags. She was worried about me.

  “It’s fine,” I assured her. “I’ll think of something.”

  It was strange, the idea we had come to our last night in this place. Our entire lives had been here. It was where we’d met, where we’d grown up. We’d planned our escape here, but now that the escape was upon us, it didn’t seem real or right.

  I knew the reason for that as well as I knew my own name.

  He should be here. The thought rang through my head like the House One dinner bell—a bell I’d never hear again.

  “Will it?” Arbor asked, looking over at me with eyes that looked just like mine, save for the immense amount of concern now coloring them. “This isn’t like before, Lara. Once we’re out there, there’s no going back. If we can’t pay for a place to sleep, then we don’t have a place to sleep.” She shook her head. “And you go and get fired.”

  She was saying the very things I didn’t want to think about, but that were on my own mind, too. There was only one form of payment in the faction. Atern. And when the atern ran out, that life was over.

  This was my fault. I’d told her not to worry about working. That I’d take care of us both. And she’d only listened because we knew her gift would only land her one of the most dangerous jobs in the faction—fae server. Arbor’s gift was similar to my own, but instead of an ability to turn energy into magic, she had the ability to convert that energy into life source for the fae. They could filter magic through her and feed off it.

  Much like my own job, fae servers never left work without a full atern meter. But… they sometimes never left work at all. If fae were too greedy, they would end up sucking all the energy out of the fae server before they realized what they’d done. And that meant death for the server.

  I couldn’t let her risk her life like that. She was all I had left.

  “I wasn’t fired,” I rebutted finally. “Albion said I can come back. I just need to clear my head first.”

  “And what good is that going to do us tomorrow?” Arbor asked, blinking at me like a lost stray. “Maybe I should speak to the administrators. I can ask them if they’ll make an exception for a week or so. Just until we manage to get some bearings under us.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I snapped. “I’d rather be homeless than live at the mercy of these monsters. Have you forgotten the way they treated us, like we were property more than people?”

  “Have you forgotten they kept a roof over our head and food in our bellies?” she asked, and I could see the beginnings of desperation in her face. “I’m just scared, Lara. I thought we’d have it together by now. I thought we’d know what we wanted to do, who we wanted to be. I thought—I thought—”

  “That Karr would be here,” I finished, knowing what she was going to say.

  “He always knew, Lara,” she answered, looking to the floor. “And even when he didn’t, I always felt like he’d figure it out.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I promised her. “And we have enough atern for a week’s food and sleep.”

  “Only if we don’t use atern for anything else,” she said solemnly.

  I already knew what she meant. The real faction wasn’t a kind place. Sometimes, the residents needed to use magic to protect themselves. I’d already been attacked twic
e on my way home from work in the few days I’d had my job. I’d had enough atern to defend myself, but without the ability to refill daily as I had been, it wouldn’t last nearly as long as it should.

  But thinking about that right now wasn’t going to solve anything.

  I put an arm around her shoulder and tried to radiate a peace I didn’t feel. “I know this is frightening, and I know I messed up today, but this is what we always wanted, Arbor. To be in control of our own lives, to be able to make our own decisions. It might be hard at first. I’m not going to lie and tell you that it won’t be. But we’ll make it through. And do you know why? Because we always do, Arbor. Even without Karr. This is you and me, remember? We always get by, because we have each other. I promise you, Arbor, on my life, we will be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to us.”

  As the words left my mouth, like an omen that came far too late to heed, the alarm sounded throughout House One.

  Something horrible had come to our doorstep.

  Chapter 6

  My body tensed. The only times I had ever heard the alarms go off were during scheduled drill times, when orphan witches like Arbor and I were made to pretend as though some sort of calamity had occurred within the confines of our home. Of course, we knew it was a farce. Even if it wasn’t, the idea that someone could or would break into this place was patently ridiculous. The security here was top notch. More than that, there was nothing here to take. We were orphans; we were of no concern to anyone.

  This was different, though. There was no drill scheduled for today, and even if there had been, it wouldn’t have happened this late at night. No, the fact that there was a blaring alarm pulsing through the halls of one of the most routinely quiet places in the faction meant trouble had come in a way I never could have imagined.

  As the alarm wailed more persistently, Arbor dropped some of the folded clothes as her gaze locked on mine. “What in the whole of the faction?”

  “Stay here.” I set my own clothes down and moved toward the door.

  “Yeah. I don’t think so,” she answered, and I heard her move behind me.

  The thing about Arbor that was at once so amazing and yet infuriating was that I never quite knew what she was going to do. There were times when a dancing shadow on the wall might send her into terrified squeals. Then there were times like this, when actual danger seemed closer than ever and for whatever reason, the girl could not be stopped. She was practically a one-woman wrecking ball.

  “Just try to stay behind me, okay?” I said, twisting the knob.

  Opening the door was against protocol. During those drills, we had been told that upon hearing the alarm, we were to stay put with our doors closed tightly until we heard three loud and then three short beeps. Then, and only then, would it be permissible for us to leave our rooms and exit the building in as safe a way as seemed available to us at the time.

  Blatantly ignoring the training, I pulled the door open anyway, only to see I was far from the only one to do so. Nearly every door was at least cracked open, countless heads sticking out in an effort to see what oddity had shaken up our night.

  I met the eyes of a much-younger girl. She reminded me of myself, with a tough set to her jaw that wasn’t nearly as brave as she hoped it might be. Had her parents died, too? Or had she just never known them, having been dropped off at the faction services doorstep shortly after her birth? Either way, a difficult road lay ahead of her. All I could do was hope she was strong enough to face it.

  Blinking hard, I turned from her. Our darkened hallway held no clues as to what was happening. All was still, with no sounds ringing louder than the alarms.

  The idea that this might be a mistake settled into my mind. Perhaps this was the slip of a hand by a new employee. For the most part, they were more foolish and lazy than any orphan who might unfairly garner the reputation.

  I took a deep breath, my eyes fixed on the long hallway. As I settled myself down, the idea that this was just an error began to feel more likely. Soon enough, the three beeps would sound, and we’d be shuffled out to the front lawn. From there, we’d be told this was all a misunderstanding. We’d probably be blamed for it in some far-fetched way, then we’d be forced back into our beds and told we’d be punished for this come morning.

  That wouldn’t matter to Arbor and me, though. We’d be gone with the sun, off to live a life like the one in our dreams, albeit without Karr.

  I took another settling breath and began to pull my head back inside.

  A scream stopped me in my tracks. A loud and guttural wail pierced through the air, drowning out even the alarm. I saw a body next—a guard flying through the air, his arm ripped clean out of its socket. He fell at my feet, still blinking, face contorted with unmistakable pain.

  He’d be dead in seconds. There was nothing I could do about that, but I could help the only person left in the world that I still cared about.

  I slammed the door closed, my heart in my throat. When I braced myself with my back against the door, I turned to Arbor and shouted, “Get in the closet!”

  “What happened?” Arbor asked, trying to push past me to get to the door. I shoved back, knocking her onto my bed.

  “No!” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t need to see that! You don’t…” I pursed my lips. “No one needs to see that.”

  “Lara,” she said in trembling voice, her eyes wide. “What is it?”

  “Something’s out there.” I heard another scream over the sounds of the alarm and bit back a gasp. “Something’s killing them.”

  A loud boom thudded against the door—our door—and the wall shook violently. I shuddered in response. It was here. It was coming to us, for us. But why?

  “Get in the closet,” I repeated, my eyes darting to Arbor.

  “Not on your life,” she said, shaking her head and steadying herself.

  The door shook again. How long would it last? How long before whatever this thing was got through to us?

  “Don’t argue with me,” I snapped. “If you’re out here, I’ll get myself killed trying to keep you safe. Just do what I ask.”

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But take this first.”

  She touched her atern band to my own.

  “No!” I said, pulling away. “I’m not taking what magic you have.”

  “You are,” she said. “You are, or I’m not going anywhere.”

  I glared at her until the door shook again. Until the wood started to crack and splinter. I’d shared my full band with her, which meant we each had half. But I knew Arbor—if we split the magic between us, she’d want to split the fight between us, too.

  “Fine,” I said. “But keep at least a quarter band. Then get in there!”

  Arbor closed her eyes and let her magic bleed into me. When she was done, my band was three quarters full.

  “Get in the closet,” I said. “I’ll spell it shut.”

  “Don’t waste your magic on that,” Arbor said. “I’ll be fine. Just use it to—”

  Using a touch of the magic I now had, I threw Arbor into the closet. The door slammed shut, and I began to spell it to remain that way.

  Another loud boom shattered the door behind me. Spinning around, I turned to find something I never thought I’d see.

  As an orphan in the faction, I wasn’t exactly taught alongside the best and brightest witches there were. Still, I had always had a curious mind, especially when it came to spells and the like. As such, I had done a lot of studying about the different sorts of magic that existed within the faction. Still, nothing I had ever read about had prepared me to face what was in front of me.

  A swirling black cloud met me at the threshold of our now-shattered doorway. It sparked with white and red electricity, rumbling around like a thundercloud in my presence.

  I swallowed hard, unsure about whether the spell to keep this thing out of the closet and away from Arbor had taken effect. Hopefully it had, because I wasn’t sure that ten atern bands full
of magic would be enough to even put a dent in whatever this was.

  Still, I had to try.

  The thundercloud lumbered toward me, reverberating as if a storm was on the horizon. I felt the energy pouring off the thing, hot and somehow angry.

  I watched in a daze as it swirled closer, then shook my head. If I didn’t get it together, this thing would do to me what it had done to the guard.

  I twisted my hands, readying myself to deploy the sort of battle magic I had never had the chance to learn. The magic in the band did as I commanded, pulling together at my palms and forming into a wave of energy that shot forward, pushing the cloud back.

  It grumbled loudly, crackling with energy and slamming against my wall. I twisted my hands again. The magic I’d taken from Arbor wouldn’t last forever. I needed to not only get this thing on the run, but I also had to keep it running. I had to drive this thing far enough away from House One that there might hopefully be someone around to help us before it came back.

  Creating another rush of energy, I pushed toward the thing, but it moved quickly, twisting into a sliver of darkness on the wall and darting up toward the roof. My energy barely touched it, but it was enough to blow a hole in the wall.

  The beast was overhead now, a blotch of black rumbles. I twisted my hands again, but it was too late. The cloud spread over me, swallowing me up into a hot and painful darkness. Its energy infiltrated me, sharp electricity frying my insides and crumpling me up. Once it spit me back out, I fell to the ground, unable to move or even breathe.

  Was this what it had come down to? After the years of studying, was I really destined to die at the hands of some monster just hours before my life really began?

  I looked up at the dark humanoid thing that now stood over me in the darkness of the cloud, and it certainly seemed that way.

  Chapter 7

  The humanoid hovered over me, surrounded by swirling black, electric energy, its breath loud and fierce. The power inside me ebbed upward, and I felt a rush as instinctual and necessary as breathing as my body trembled.