Flamethroat

‘Excellent.’ Jack clapped his hands together. ‘My favourite type of idea. So, what’s the plan?’


I told Jack what the woman at the gate had said about registering Humans to get past the guards.

‘Well that’s great,’ said Jack. ‘Except we don’t own a Human, nor can we afford one.’

‘We aren’t going to buy a Human Jack. Don’t be ridiculous. We aren’t here to stimulate the Human market.’

‘Then what?’ he asked, his eyebrows knitted together.

I looked at Jack meaningfully and finally he understood.

‘You don’t mean-’ He began with wide eyes. ‘No. No. Absolutely not! Are you insane?’

‘I can pretend to be a Human,’ I said quickly. ‘You can be my master. They will have to let us in if they think you want to add me to their list of Humans.’

Jack saw the determination in my eyes. ‘So, I just tell the guard that I want to get you registered? They let us in, jot your name down on their register and voila, we’re inside The Realm?’

‘That’s it,’ I said with a smile.

‘And what do we do once we’re inside?’ said Jack, crossing his arms. ‘What happens when they realize you’re a Mage?’

I sighed. ‘Who cares? Our goal is to talk to the Head of the Human Registration. What was her name again? Korra Waterson.’

Jack looked worried, so I tried to comfort him.

‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ I asked. ‘They'll realise I’m a Mage and kick us out. The end.’

‘You might ruin any chance you have of finding your family.’

‘Well I’ll never find them by standing outside the gate either!’ I said heatedly.

Jack thought long and hard for several minutes. He had to agree, he just had to.

‘Please,’ I begged. ‘You have to register me as a Human if we want to get inside.’

Jack screwed up his face as though in great pain. ‘Promise nothing will go horribly wrong?’

‘I promise,’ I said with wide eyes. ‘Will you do it?’

‘All right,’ he said with a sigh. ‘But I am not letting you out of my sight.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, embracing him. ‘We’ll do it first thing tomorrow morning. I will need to wear rags or a bed sheet or something equally horrid.’

‘You don’t think the guards will recognise you after today’s protest?’ said Jack, snaking his arms around my waist.

I shook my head as I relinquished the hold I had on Jack. ‘There are too many people here to remember specific faces. Trust me.’

And it seemed he did.

~

That night, I lay awake for hours, thinking about what would transpire tomorrow.

The single bed in Georgia’s spare room was lumpy and uncomfortable. Springs dug into my spine and I spent half the night tossing and turning. I guessed it was about two o’clock in the morning when I felt myself drifting to sleep, however I was disturbed minutes later by the sound of movement through the apartment.

Georgia had retired to her own room hours ago and Jack was asleep on the sofa. I knew he was asleep because I could hear him snoring, even from down the hall. So, who was tiptoeing down the hall?

The floorboards creaked past my room and continued towards the sitting room. I slid silently out of bed and crept towards my bedroom door. I eased it open with great care and slipped into the hall where I saw Georgia tiptoeing into the sitting room.

I was on the verge of going back to bed when I heard whispering coming from the sitting room.

Curious, I crept towards the entrance, but remained hidden in the shadows. What was I doing? This was Georgia’s home; she had every right to wander around at night. But what I saw made my entire body shake with anger.

Georgia wore a short, silk nightdress and her hair was in a plait down her back. She stood next to the sofa where Jack lay snoring loudly. The moonlight shone through the curtain and illuminated his bare chest. The blanket was sprawled across his stomach, covering the rest of his body. Georgia knelt by Jack’s head, watching him sleep.

And then she spoke to him.

‘Jack,’ she whispered.

Jack stirred slightly. She put a hand on his shoulder and said his name again. This time Jack awoke.

It seemed to take him several seconds to realise where he was and who had woken him. My heart skipped a beat when he looked at Georgia and said, ‘Avalon?’

‘No … it’s Georgia,’ she said, scooting closer to him.

‘Oh,’ said Jack, rubbing his eyes. ‘What’s the matter? Is everything okay?’

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Georgia said, simpering, ‘I had a nightmare.’

Jack sat up, his eyes swollen from sleep. ‘Oh.’

Kate Bloomfield's books