Soul Blaze (3 page)

As soon as I spotted my team captain, I knew the day
was not going to be the piece of cake I’d hoped for. Our
captain was a girl named Jessica Worlington, a year
younger than me, but fiercely competitive. She bounced
on the balls of her feet, her blonde hair pulled into a
severe bun. She was scanning us all, from the year eight’s
to twelve’s, sizing up who to put in what event. I
immediately made sure that I shrank a little bit; I did not
want to be volunteered for high jump or anything
strenuous.

School Chicken Dance, I prayed fervently. That’s all I
need to do to get Mum’s ribbon.
No such luck.

“You, Evermore,” I cringed, fervently hoping there was
a long lost relative standing beside me. “I know you didn’t
sign up for anything but you look sporty so I’m putting
you in for the relay.”

I looked sporty? That was one word which had never
been used to describe me, ever.

However, the rest of the team ambled away, happy
with where Jess had placed them. I perched on the slight
hill that overlooked the oval; according to my timetable of
the day’s events, the relay was later in the afternoon, and
failing all else, the Chicken Dance just after. I stuffed my
school bag under my head and pulled out the book I’d
borrowed from the school library. I was quite impressed
with how this day was progressing when a shadow fell
across the book, and I glanced up to see Jessica standing
over me.

“We need one more for tug-o-war. You’re in.”

She trotted off down the hill before I could respond.
Glancing down at the oval, I could indeed see that my
team were one person short. I heaved a sigh and shoved
the book deep into my rather empty school bag. I figured
she really did need my help, considering I’d been
upgraded to first name status. Leaving my school bag
behind, I trotted down the hill, accepting canvas gloves
from Jess and then joined the rope just in time.

“Ready?” Our umpire was Mr Burgess, who looked
none too thrilled to be out here in the heat. “Go!”

The rope went taut as both teams leant away from each
other. For a few seconds it was a stalemate, until the other
team began to gain on us. I dug my heels in, but I could
see the marker drawing closer. A few people on my team
slipped and fell.

“Out,” Mr B told them, and then grumbled their way to
the sidelines. “Carry on.”

Carry on? We were being dragged closer and closer to
the line. The smart – and rather funny thing – to do now
would be to let go and watch the other team fall, even if it
meant forfeiting the game.

A few more people on my team fell. I wrapped the rope
in my hands, employing the rest of my strength.
Something alongside the adrenaline in my veins was
lending its strength, and there was no way I was going to
question it.

“I’ve got an idea,” I said through gritted teeth to the
person behind me. “But it’s going to sound crazy.”
“Who’re you talking to?” a girl on the sidelines
demanded. “You’re the only one left!”
Was I? Well, looked like the vote was unanimous then.

Without stopping to think how it was possible that I
was fighting a whole team – and standing my ground – I
let the rope go for just a second, thanking Jess inwardly for
the gloves that protected me from rope burn.

The other team, taken by surprise, mostly fell on their
butts. I’d grabbed the rope again almost as soon as I’d let it
go, but even so, I’d lost what little ground I had. I fought
against the person on the other end, and when I glanced
up, I realised the only person left was Tyson Welles, the
school’s sport champion. He was on every team and our
saving grace at any inter-school competitions. He saw me
look at him and cracked a smile.

“Come on, Evermore,” he said. “Just let it go.”
“No thanks,” I said, still managing to hold my ground.
“Might fight this one out actually.”

He smirked, and the adrenaline soared through my
body again as I realised quite a crowd had gathered. I
watched a small line appear down the centre of Tyson’s
eyebrows; he was losing face even as it was. One girl was
holding her ground against him.

I had three choices here. I could either fight him and
probably lose, which would involve being dragged across
the finishing line on either my butt or my face or I could
dig my feet in, haul with all of my strength, pull off an
unlikely victory for my team and make an enemy of
Tyson.

My third choice made me grind my teeth, but I knew it
was the best option. So I let the rope go, my heart sinking
a little as I saw the rope cross the line, immediately
signalling my team’s defeat. Tyson fell to the ground and
everyone laughed. I felt a smile stretch across my own
face, and I knew I’d made the right decision.

“Congratulations,” I told him.

He grinned at me from the ground and held out his
hand. I approached him and grasped it, pulling him to his
feet.

“Thought you had me for a bit there,” he admitted.
“What was your name? Rose?”

“Yeah.” Huh. Guess we’ve done away with the
surnames there. He knew I didn’t have to ask what his
name was. “Don’t know how I was holding on so long. I
suppose Weetbix really is the cereal of champions.”

He laughed loudly, and my face grew hot as I realised
he was still holding onto my hand. I let it go immediately,
my hand falling to my side. Students milled around,
mostly to clap Tyson on the shoulder. Over said shoulder,
I spied one of the teachers watching us closely. I narrowed
my eyes; I didn’t recognise the man.

“Hey,” I said to Tyson. “Who’s that? One of the new
subs?”
He glanced over his shoulder.
“Dunno,” he said, frown lines appearing between his
eyebrows. “Could be. C’mon, want a drink?”

“Sure,” I said, all thoughts of the unfamiliar teacher
leaving my mind. “You know I let you win, right? So you
can buy me the drink.”

He chuckled at that, but didn’t dispute it. He and a few
of his friends towed me to one of the food trailers, and an
ice cold cola was handed to me. We sat on the hill
overlooking the oval, watching the events, and I sipped
the soft-drink next to Tyson, listening to them chatter.

“Relay,” Tyson said a little while later, breaking me out
of a reverie. “Participating, Rose?”
“Uh, yeah, I think I was dobbed in,” I said, standing up
and stretching. “You?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling. “Let’s go.”

We took our places on the track. Some people were
lining up to watch, and news of the tug-of-war had spread
through the crowd of onlookers. I noticed a few students
watching me with anticipation, and my belly flipped over
with nerves. Adrenaline began to thud through my veins
as I noticed just how many people were gathering to
watch the event.

A sharp crack made me jump. The event had begun. I
watched Jess, a streak of blonde hair and green apparel,
draw a large lead on the person in red beside her. I
glanced nervously ahead; I would be the final stretch, the
deciding runner - if it was close enough.

The adrenaline was twisting into something more. Fire
began to burn under my skin and I bounced on the balls of
my feet, watching behind me as my team drew ahead of
the others.

“C’mon,” I growled under my breath. I felt like a storm
ready to break. “C’mon, c’mon.”

As the baton was passed to the runner before me,
disaster struck. That runner fumbled, and the baton fell
the ground. I heard the crowd groan as my team went
from first to last in the bat of an eye.

“Good luck, Evermore,” Tyson said, just as his runner
reached him and handed him their baton. I noted the
renewed use of my last name.

Finally, my runner reached me. I snatched the baton
from their hand, letting some of the fire take me. My feet
pounded the track and I leant forwards into the wind. I
was running so fast! I felt like I could grow wings and take
off. The people on the side of the track were a blur, their
cheers dulling into static noise. Everything in the world
had slowed down but me.

I was coming up on Tyson fast, and breezed past him
easily. I could see the flags marking the finish line, and
pushed myself harder. The fire sang as I passed the second
runner and then the first. I shot past the flags, unable to
believe the victory that I pulled off for my team.

“Oh my god!” Jess was screaming over and over again.

She ran at me, collecting me up. The other runners of my
team caught up to us, and then team members from the
crowd. “You just won the day for us, Rose!”

I what? I won the whole day for them? But I was about
as sporty as a sloth. My chest heaved but I wasn’t out of
breath. My legs didn’t tremble, and I stood tall. On an
impulse, I thrust the baton high above our group and was
rewarded with the cheer of any team member who saw it.

“Congratulations.”

I turned to the teacher who was coming to pin my blue
ribbon on me. I couldn’t help but frown a bit as I realised
it was the teacher I didn’t recognise.

“That was quite a victory.” He continued.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling broadly. His hands clipped the
safety pin to my tank top, and I couldn’t help but notice
the scars crisscrossing them. I glanced up warily, noticing
that his eyes were as dark as coal. There was something in
them that made me step away. “Excuse me. Need some
water.”

I disentangled myself from my team, heading to the
water truck. Something was beginning to drum in my
stomach, and it wasn’t exhaustion. I found myself
searching for the teacher, but he was gone.

Two hours later, my team was announced as the overall
winner. I cheered with the rest of them as Jess took the
trophy for us all. I was still grinning as I gathered up my
book and bag.

“Well done today,” Tyson said, coming to stand next to
me. “Your team deserved to win.”

I just smiled, not really sure what to say. His team had
come second, thanks to him, though they usually came
first.

“Hey,” he caught my arm as I went to turn away. “I
asked around about that teacher you pointed out.”
“Yeah?”
His mouth twisted in one corner.
“No one recognised him. Rose, I don’t think he works
for the school.”
Ice filled my stomach. I swallowed nervously.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Look, he seemed really interested in you. Just be
careful, ok?”

I found myself nodding, but my stomach sank as Tyson
continued up the hill towards the car park. I cast one last
look over the oval as the sun set behind me, but there was
nought on the grounds but my own shadow.

~Chapter Four~

“First place!” Mum greeted me at the door. She beamed
at the blue ribbon pinned to my top. “Not the chicken
dance, I hope.”

“Please,” I rolled my eyes. “You know I can’t dance that
well.”
“True. Come on in. Dinner’s pretty much ready.”
My stomach growled, and I dumped my bag on the
shoe stand. I caught sight of my hands and pulled a face.
“Just going to wash up,” I called through to the lounge
room, and pounded up the stairs before she could answer.

Once in the bathroom, I pulled my hair from my
ponytail. I shook the waves loose, grimacing as they fell
almost to my waist. It was getting too long; definitely
needed a hair appointment soon. I started unclipping the
ribbon from my shirt, planning on leaving it in my room.
As I took it off, I saw writing hidden on the underside of
it. I read it quickly, and then flung it away from me,
covering my mouth with my hands. My heart beat rapidly
as the ribbon slipped into the sink, its message clear to me
even on the other side of the room.

They’re coming for you. Watch your back.

I stood pressed against the shower for an age. The urge
to call my mother had died in my throat long ago, and
though I could hear her yelling for me up the stairs, I
didn’t move.

Who was coming for me? The man pretending to be the
teacher at Ar Cena High, or was he warning me of
someone else?

I shoved the ribbon into my pocket and then scrubbed
my hands until they were red.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Mum talked about my
unexpected glory on the oval, and I nodded and mhm-ed
along with everything. Her chatter died away as dinner
continued though, and I took it as an opportunity to leave
the table and skitter upstairs.

As soon as I was in my room, I locked the door behind
me. I grabbed up an umbrella as I turned on every
available light source, checking all of the corners with my
chosen weapon at the ready.

Eventually I crawled into bed, the umbrella at my side.
As I switched my lamp off, my heart pounding, every
shadow became someone standing quietly, watching me.
At some time around midnight, I gave way to exhaustion.
I didn’t hear the window open.

I awoke to someone standing over me. There was a
second of silence as I took in what was happening, and
then drew in all of the air I could to scream.

Rough hands covered my mouth. I bit down hard on
one of their fingers, and though they swore, they held on.
I kicked and struggled, my scream muffled.

“No!”

The man covering my mouth suddenly flew backwards
into my dresser. I screamed as I saw three more figures
entering my room, long dark robes making them look
more like shadows.
My mother. What about her? Had they found her yet?

Another man was standing in front of me, his arms
spread. As I watched, disbelieving, dark flames gathered
above his hand, and he hurled fireball after fireball at the
other men.

“Come on, Sky,” his hand gripped my wrist, and I
struggled harder than ever. “Now! You have to come with
me!”

“No!” I fought his grasp, simultaneously hitting him
with the umbrella. “My mum! I can’t leave her! Not
again!”

For now I realised this was all to do with my past. My
missing year.

“There’s no time,” the man said, stretching for my
mirror on my cupboard. In the dim light, I saw the surface
flex. His fingers touched it, and cold terror gripped me as I
saw them disappear into the mirror. The other men were
beginning to recover and I reflexively threw the umbrella
at them. It hit one with a satisfying thud, but the others
kept coming.