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“Hmmm, not exactly. There were plenty of normals, though not at the same ratio as there is today. Every typical human probably had three or fouratypical neighbors, friends, and even family members. Anyone care to stab at what the current ratio is?”
“Not especially,” Kell mutters.
“Smart answer,” Doug returns. “It’s daunting, and there happens to be a few theories why. The most obvious is recorded in human history itself.”
I nod though don’t wish to be doing so. “Basic mortal fear.” I also don’t want to be saying that part, but rotten weeds have to be exposed to the sunlight just as ugly history has to be remembered along with its nobility.
“Another excellent observation. And, regrettably, accurate. As the human race grasped more science and invention, they also enjoyed their new feelings of control and power because of it all. In many ways, rightfully so. The mortals’ openness to new ideas and implementations has developed their realm into the largest of them all. But, for the first time in history, that cosmic real estate is shrinking. All the innovations are starting to block humans in. Filling them with grand delusions and insane fantasies.”
“Not disagreeing,” I say. “But still wondering how it all even started. And why?”
Doug is nodding before I’m done, already expecting my query. “Imagine you’re alive a few million years ago, say, and you’re living in a cave and eating raw rabbit for dinner every night.”
Kell shudders. “You asked the question, sister.Yougo for this one.”
“Suddenly your friend shows you how to make fire with flint and some sticks,” he continues. “The miracle of fire is no longer a mystery to you. In the grand scheme of the universe, that hasn’t stopped fire from actually being a miracle in its own right. But now you start to look at yourotherfriend… The one you’ve always revered because they can create fire with a snap of their fingers—a little differently. Why were they bestowed with this ability and not you? And why don’t they just create fires like everyone else? You start to resent them.”
“And perhaps worse,” Maximus murmurs.
“Exactly. You question having to bow to them when they walk by. You question how they came by their ability at all. Then you make up nefarious stories about that, and those stories feed into darker fears. You share those stories with the other normals in your village, and soon you’reallafraid. And that dogma starts to trickle to new generations.”
“And that’s the energy that’s empowered Hecate’s grimoire?” Kell asks.
“Part of it.” The doctor cocks his head. “The other parts are spun from more complex superstitions, as well as the general direction of the human race as a whole.”
“General direction?” I echo. “Headed for where?”
“The last two centuries alone are that best compass,” he asserts. “Humans have learned so much. They can now split atoms, eradicate diseases, send vast information on palm-sized devices, and program robots to cross minefields. There are even serious conversations about colonizing other planets.”
“Yet all those minefields still exist,” Maximus concludes. “And the race to space is still all about who can build the prettier rocket. Humankind has never come so far yet been more polarized. Or more proud of it.”
Doug barely moves and doesn’t have to. His features broadcast his total agreement. “Because they’ve never been more afraid.”
“A truth for sure.” Kell frowns and rolls her head. “Butthetruth? Yes, everyone’s afraid, but not necessarily ofus. Demons and vampires are now the stars of poster art, streaming hits, and fan fiction. Gods and witches are being romanticized and exchanged like playing cards. All the creatures people used to hide from at night are just—”
“Being called by different names.” Doug rearranges his expressive brows as if getting ready to turn that into a question but doesn’t. His tone remains an adamant drill. “Instead of fiends, hags, bogeymen, and Lucifers, people are ducking and hiding from anyone who wears odd clothes, looks like a deviant, or speaks a language that sounds suspicious.Differenthas become the newsinister. It doesn’t need the night to scare people. Not anymore.”
Kell coincides a harsh breath with the end of his statement. “Which makes stuff scarier for us too.”
Doug scowls her way. “As it should, scamp. As it should.”
Despite the ominous direction of our exchange, Kell looks ready to throw down in response to the endearment he used during our childhood checkups. I yearn to join her, returning to simpler times and lighter concerns. But deeper instincts are already speaking, enforcing the feeling that we don’t have that kind of time to burn tonight.
“I appreciate your honesty, Doctor.Weappreciate it.” I add the last while again reaching for Maximus’s hand. “Now I guess it’s time for us to figure a few things out.”
“And quickly,” Doug says, his syllables even sterner. “But, I’d most strongly recommend, quietly.”
His last qualifier punches past the point of nunchaku. It’s a katana now, breaching the air like a dangerous whisper. His features are just as ominous, set so rigidly that I’m riveted.
“How quietly?” Maximus issues the inquiry with the same gravity. Even without my abilities, he’s aware of the same subtext.
Doug’s lips twist. “You remember the day Jaden tried that stunt on his skateboard and landed on his face instead? And how paranoid your mother was about it leaking to anyone because he was up for that new TV series?”
Kell scoffs. “You think we’ll ever forget?”
“Well, quieter than that,” he returns. “And yes, I’d even seal off the dome of silence from the grandparents-to-be.”
Maximus takes a stiff breath. “My mother has no trouble keeping secrets.”
