Chapter 2

“Come out Come out wherever you are,” I whisper. I watch my feet making sure to miss all of the broken pieces of glass on the ground.

They all fell when the sprite jumped through the window. Stupid sprite. He thinks he can run from me.

My new boots that are already more duct tape than boot move silently through the pieces.

“You stay right there, Selene!” A voice comes from around the corner of a dumpster making me smile. So he was smart enough to stop running.

“Or what?” I ask attempting not to laugh. “You’ll kill me?” I keep moving through the wreckage of the dark alley that is filled with garbage bags and empty bottles. Stuck in between two buildings the only light here comes from a bare light bulb hanging over a basement door that looks rusted shut. Next to one pile of black garbage bags that is almost as tall as me is an old man who practically blends in with the waste around him. “How about you just tell me where I can find the knife and I’ll be on my way?” I ask, even though there is no way the old sprite is leaving here alive.

“Why would I tell you that? You will just kill me anyway!” he yells as if I’m half deaf.

“I have other ways of getting information out of you, and you know it. So save yourself the pain and tell me where it is.” I finish stepping around the dumpster where he is hiding. I thought he would be cowering in the corner half broken from his fall, but he is crouched ready to pounce. He is fast for a simple sprite and in a flash he stabs me with the knife right in between my ribs.

I feel as my skin breaks and allows the sharp metal to sink through me almost breaking out through my back. A second after the knife is in the pain hits me. It feels like a deep, dark, and low pitched pain. Some pains are high pitched like a pinch or a prick. This isn’t a high pitched pain. It is low and feels like it is going to drag me down with it.

The sprite steps back in between the dumpsters standing tall as if he is proud of himself for catching the trickster off guard.

Well, at least I found the knife.

The handle which is the only part I can currently see, is golden with markings that look just like the ones on my skin. They are spells. The knife was made to kill fire beings like me. The sprite’s thin face turns up into a smile while he stares at the golden hilt sticking out from in between my ribs.  He thinks that he won.

My body quickly goes up in flames, and the knife that was stuck in my ribs falls to the ground with a loud clang making the homeless man shift from his hiding place in his garbage castle trying to see if anyone has invaded his alley.

The look on the sprite’s face is priceless.

I push myself off of the wall I’ve been leaning against the entire time. Clapping my hands at the little show he turns around, his eyes wide.

“How?” he gets out before I stick my own knife into his heart, making him burst into a pile of leaves.

“I’m the trickster,” I say as I pick up the gold handled knife. “It’s my job. . . How all of you keep thinking that you can kill me goes beyond even my reasoning.” I finish wrapping the knife and stick it into my boot.

To most, it would look like any other knife, but those few symbols on the hilt make it one of the only things that can hurt me. It can’t kill me though. There would need to be a much more intricate spell for that knife.

I walk over the pile of leaves that is now blowing around the alley. I don’t take the time to go around the glass on the ground, and I hear the old man ask if anyone is there . . . if he only knew. When I round the corner, the street is dark and quiet. The air is humid and warm. I prefer dry and warm, but anything is better than the cold of winter.

A plastic bag is rolling across the street, like a man made version of tumble weed. A crowd of men are sitting on a staircase of one of the buildings that are built so close together I would barely be able to squeeze through. I walk past them seeing if any look up. None of them do. They can’t see me. It’s rare to find someone that has the sight, and those who do are usually too afraid of my kind to do anything about it.

Either that or they think they are crazy. Those ones are fun to play with.

Around another corner, I cross the street and enjoy the warm air on my skin. I walk a few streets before I find what I’m looking for, a fire. Standing under a highway section a few men are standing around a garbage can. What started the fire I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I take a few steps around the men as they stumble about, and dive headfirst into the fire.

I feel the heat on my skin as I go through. It feels like rain on a human’s skin or at least what I think rain would feel like. Refreshing and cleansing. Once the heat passes I land on my feet on the solid black marble floor.

A familiar scent of burning pine needles is in the air.

“That was quick.” I hear his voice behind me.

“What can I say. I’m good at my job.” I turn to see Kennan leaning against the palace wall. As always he is wearing all black other than the golden chain he wears around his neck. He doesn’t answer only looks me up and down with his golden eyes. “My mother would like to see you.” I nod, and he turns expecting me to follow him, which I do.

I learned a long time ago not to keep the Fire Queen waiting.