The Weight Of Remaining

I had always hated crowded places. Not because of the noise, or the heat, or the way strangers brushed against me like the world had never taught them boundaries. I could handle all of that. I had handled worse. What I hated was how much there was to notice. A dropped glass behind the bar. A man lying about the cards in his hand. The faint tremor in a woman’s voice as she laughed too loudly. The exits. The shadows. The pulse of magic beneath everyone’s skin, flickering in soft, harmless colors. Too much information. Always too much. “You’re doing it again,” Mira said, leaning across the table with a grin sharp enough to cut through my thoughts. I blinked. “Doing what?” “That thing where your body is here, but your soul is somewhere solving a murder.” Liora laughed into her drink. “Leave her alone. Caelyn is mysterious. It’s her only personality trait.” I kicked her under the table. She yelped, then lifted her glass toward me. “Violent and mysterious. Better?” “Much.” The bar around us pulsed with music and warm amber light. Bottles glittered behind the counter like jewels. People danced between tables, magic sparking lazily from fingertips, drinks, jewelry, skin. Nothing powerful. Nothing dangerous. A boy near the stage kept making tiny blue flames hop between his knuckles to impress a girl who looked deeply unimpressed. Ordinary magic. The kind people either received when they came of age, or didn’t. The kind I was supposed to have. Only one kind. Only one. Mira was still talking, something about a man who had bought her a drink and then introduced himself by his full government name, when the air changed. Not stopped. Not shifted. Changed. My hand tightened around my glass before I understood why. The music kept playing. People kept laughing. Liora was still smiling. But somewhere inside me, something vast and ancient turned a page. Run. The word did not sound like a thought. It sounded like knowledge. My eyes moved to the front windows just as the glass exploded inward. Screams tore through the room. Something huge crashed through the entrance, all bone and blackened sinew, its limbs bent at the wrong angles. It had no eyes, only a mouth split too wide across a skull-like face, dripping smoke instead of saliva. Then another came through the side wall. And another from above. For half a second, nobody moved. Then the bar became chaos. Mira grabbed my wrist. “Caelyn—” “Get down.” My voice came out colder than I felt. Liora’s eyes widened. She knew that tone. They both did. The first creature lunged at a man frozen near the dance floor. I moved before I could think better of it. The world stretched. Sound thinned. The creature’s claws descended slowly, almost lazily, toward the man’s throat. I crossed the room in less than a breath. My shoulder hit the man first, knocking him away. The creature’s claws carved through empty air, and before it could turn, I drove a broken chair leg into the soft hollow beneath its jaw. It shrieked. Too loud. Too inhuman. The room snapped back into speed. People screamed harder. I yanked the wood free and ducked as the creature swung at me. Its claws passed close enough to split the sleeve of my jacket. Great. That had been my favorite jacket. Mira appeared on my left, palms glowing with violet heat. “You couldn’t just run?” I kicked the creature in the knee. Bone cracked. “I was going to.” “You have a funny way of doing it.” Liora slid across the floor behind it, her hand pressed to the ground. The boards beneath the creature warped, twisting around its ankles like living roots. “Less flirting,” she snapped, “more killing.” “I’m not flirting,” Mira and I said at the same time. The creature screamed again. I moved. Fast. Not too fast. That was the trick. Fast enough to survive. Not fast enough to make anyone ask questions. I hit it once in the ribs. Again in the throat. Spun behind it. Drove my knee into its back. It fell forward, and Mira finished it with a burst of violet flame that burned through its skull until only ash remained. One down. Two still tearing through the bar. Maybe more outside. My breathing stayed even, but my pulse hammered in my ears. Across the room, through the smoke and shattered glass, I saw them. Four men near the back exit. Not running. Not hiding. Watching. One of them stepped forward, but another stopped him with a hand against his chest. That one had dark hair, messy and damp-looking under the low lights. He was dressed in black, layered leather and straps, like he had walked out of a fight and into the wrong bar. His gaze was fixed on me. Not on the monsters. On me. Something cold slid down my spine. He had seen too much. I turned away before our eyes could meet properly. “Mira,” I said, “after this, we leave.” She followed my stare. “Friends of yours?” “No.” Liora cursed. “That sounds worse.” “It is.” The second creature leapt onto the bar, crushing bottles beneath its claws. Blue liquor spilled like blood across the counter. The bartender screamed and threw a useless towel at it. I sighed. Then I ran.