Who is Magpie?

Further down the hall she pushed on a section of wall and motioned for them to follow behind. She knew they wouldn’t leave her side, even as she entered her old room and she wished she could ask them to wait outside. She grabbed a set of clothes and chucked them at Ezekiel before flipping the bed roll over out of the way.

“Rip those shutters off and you should be able to see how the front gate is doing.” She reached her hand out to Ezekiel. “Flares, bombs, gas cans, or fireworks?”

He couldn’t stop the laugh, “no, my love.”

She pouted but checked their hair, excitedly removing the pin from Bronx.

“Hey,” he muttered, “why mine?”

She wadded up some socks around dried, dead plant chunks and moved to the tube system. “Fire,” she smiled. Using the flint to spark it and drop the ball in. “It likely won’t start any fires, but the smoke will be enough for panic.”

The exit tube from her room had no air flow. It fell straight down and caught pressure running from another system to move along. She stuffed small sock balls and leaves down the pipe, every so often stuffing one to protect the fire from the pull of the wind.

While she did this Bronx pulled the shutters from the window and realized, “this was your room.”

“Yes, shall I give you the tour?” She rolled her eyes, shredding a vine of ivy leaves into the tube. “Bed, shelf, greenery, and bathroom on the end. I’ll keep it short, I don’t want anything from here except my knives and even then only for the hour or so.”

“The clothes?” Ezekiel asked and she cackled. Cackled.

“They’ll wet themselves when I shift in front of them after all these years,” she gleamed.

Smoke began to come back up the pipe and she wrapped a blanket tightly around the top before returning to her bed roll and lifting the mat beneath to reveal rows of small throwing knives.

“I’ve been sneaking them out of classes for years. They don’t notice a knife or two going missing in a month.” She took a belt from a shelf and began slinging them through the material before putting it on and leading them from the room. She led them down the set of halls she avoided when at all possible, the ones that led to his office. She could see those at the gates were at risk of being pinned down or mowed over and the closest override switch for the gate was there. She hoped the smoke had been enough for him to evacuate but kicked in the door ready regardless.

“Empty,” she muttered over her shoulder moving quickly to the gate controls and opening them.

She then moved around the room tossing things here and there, rolling up a file with her name on it for Ezekiel to stuff in his pocket, and then bringing the flint back out. The fire in his chair sparked immediately and she had them join her in feeding the fire at his desk before ripping the gate controls from the wall and leaving.

“I’d feel bad setting fires to Kay’s inheritance, but I think she’ll understand.” Jessamine smirked as they exited and saw a bunch of people gathered around the door. “Sorry didn’t know you were waiting, did you knock?”

Their lips peeled back to show their tiny Fae fangs like piranhas and their ears shifted to their natural point. Behind her Bronx and Ezekiel let their own teeth show and growled loud enough for a few in the front to wince.

“I’ve so rarely seen your little teeth,” Jessamine teased, wagging her finger at them like they were a toddler. “I’m so honoured, and it makes this easy. If you’re ok with the Martin committing genocide of the wolven,-“ she tossed a knife impaling it deep into someone’s chest, “you are a threat to my people.” The figure fell and she stared at the crowd.

“What happened to you Magpie, you were never /his kind of fucked up,” someone call and she looked up to see Robin.

Jessamine rolled her eyes outlandishly. “They were drugging me, took my family, under fed me, tortured me, sold me…! You saw me yesterday Robin. You all can put yourself in the kennels downstairs, or you can fight for your life.”

“Sold you?” Mallard barked in the back, a tall girl with a look of pure disgust. “Naw, I’m out. This was supposed to help our kind, not wipe out another.” She moved to go and when Raven, a Doux, moved to grab her she relieved him of his fingers.

Other followed her, muttering things about packing their bags, or not hating Magpie enough for this. Those that were left came running and Jessamine felt a boost in energy from her mates. She had nailed a couple with knives, dropping them early on and used those remaining to slash and fill her knuckles when she hit.

There weren’t enough for a good fight against three from alpha blood and people were left dead or dying as she led her mates toward the main doors. They could hear fighting down the hall, rounding the corner to a large open entryway where the Fae brandished their weapons against the wolven who had pushed their way in. Others fought outside, where their basic need to breathe was a constant weakness.

They rushed to join them as the doors were flung open and a smoke blew in. They were forced to fall back, Jessamine the slowest to skid to a stop and back up as their lungs were racks with the need to cough.

“Sit!” A voice commanded, and before she knew what she was doing Jessamine slid to sit on the floor.

“Fuck,” she cursed around bouts of coughing.

She’d developed a few automatic reactions to his commands, but had hoped much of it was aided by the tea. He looked at her now, a pipe in hand as if mocking her inability to breathe by showing how his poisoned lungs could do it so easily.

“Stay,” he laughed, rapping his cane on the ground.

A sound that had given her comfort when it had been from Willow now made her anxious, completely separate from her current fear. Her coughing increased and Bronx was about to run over and grab her to drag her further into the house when Azural came up behind the Martin and shoved his clawed hand into his back.

The Martin took his cane and thrust it up over his shoulder, into Azural’s face through the breathing mask. Shards of the plastic face shield shattered into his face, stabbing through his right eye and into his cheek. Jessamine called out in pain, gripping her own face and cutting off her connection to keep Bronx and Ezekiel from feeling the same.

The pain was enough to make her forget his command and she gunned it for him, clambering to her bare feet and tuning out the world by focusing on the blood pumping through her ears. She dove for him, tackling him to the ground as another bout of coughing shook her lungs.

Azural fell with them shuffling back as Jessamine landed on top of the Martin, ready to tear his throat free from the flesh that contained it.

“Halt!” He commanded and her clawed fingers stopped.

She could see that he had none of the weapons he used on her. No sticks, whips, tasers, blades, nothing in sight, but her body wouldn’t listen to her mind. The memory of the pain, until she listened to his simple commands, was engraved in every cell and working to fight against it was tougher than she expected.

‘I’m nothing but a dog to him. A pet who can’t hurt her master,’ she thought in utter disgust.

Jessamine had always believed she was doing what he said by choice, the choice to avoid the pain by doing such menial actions as sitting, stopping, waiting. It was clear now that she never had a choice.

“Jessa!” Ezekiel yelled, but she felt a sharp pain in her hand, looking over to see Azural gripping one of the shards from his mask tightly enough to cut his skin.

The Martin shifted beneath her, and others were gathering near them now. Azural’s pain was enough to snap her out of it but before her nails could connect with his skin she felt the burn of his pipe on the back of her thigh. She flinched and he threw her off, backing into the waiting arms of other Fae.

Her lungs were beginning to feel like ground beef, and she couldn’t remember how long it had been since they left the kennels. Had it been an hour? Was it closer to two? She needed to know how much longer her body would be hindered by the drugs.