Free Revenant by Patti Larsen

so. Femke is smart, and far from backward. But when we board without issue and the train leaves for Barcelona, I relax and allow my trust to surface, if only for now.
    We step off at the Spanish border long enough to rent a cheap room in a small motel. I purchase hair dye, blackening my blonde locks. When I hack it off at the nape of my neck, Sage sighs his disappointment from where he watches me with sad eyes.
    “I love your hair,” he says.
    I shrug, grinning. “It’s been too long,” I say, turning to face him dressed only in a towel. “I’ve been Sharlotta for years now. Time for Charlotte to come out to play.” I approach him, running my fingers through his dark hair. “How do you feel about bleach?”
    By the time we’re done, our roles are reversed, and my darling Sage is a pale blond. I swing my new black bob with confidence, changed into a touristy sundress, him in casual shorts and a T-shirt. I’ve even replaced our backpacks with rolling bags, to complete the traveler’s look.
    Our border crossing is simplicity itself and we board the next train for Barcelona. I’m finally feeling like things are going the way they need to. If only they stay that way.
    The train drops us close to the airport and a quick taxi ride delivers us to the American Airlines terminal. Sage is acting nervous, but a quick prod and he settles.
    “The last thing we need,” I whisper to him as we stand in line at the ticket counter, “is for some normal in a uniform to think you’re squirrely.”
    He nods. “Sorry,” he says, rotating his left shoulder. I bandaged it back at the hotel, to stop the seeping. But it’s still causing him pain. “I know better.”
    The ticket agent doesn’t blink when we ask for two fares to Los Angeles via Miami. She just smiles and hands us the boarding passes after the credit card Iosif gave me approves the purchase.
    “Happy flying,” she says in her false, perky voice.
    I lead Sage with me, our bags small enough to carry on. The terminal is huge, but could be any international departure site. I’ve been in so many, they are a blur of long corridors and pedways and expensive shops lining the way to multiple gateways around the world.
    Still, this airport gives me a feeling of excitement. A few hours from now and we’ll be in America. And only a few more after that, California and hopefully the answers we need to save Sage.
    We’re almost to our gate when I feel it. The touch of Enforcer power. I pour on the shielding, pulling Sage aside, scanning the seating areas for signs of witches. But whomever Femke has put on post to guard the airport feels bored and distracted.
    “What?” Sage’s grip on my hand tightens.
    I smile up at him, shake my head. “Just act normal,” I say. “We’re almost home free.”
    As we pass the two young men I’ve identified as Enforcers, neither even looks up from the conversation they're having. The professional in me is highly irritated. If I ever get a chance to tell her, I know Femke will be very disappointed in their performance.
    The seats in coach aren’t ideal, but I don't want to risk drawing attention to us by sitting in first class. Sage doesn’t complain, taking the window seat. I settle next to him in the center, hoping the aisle remains empty. I don’t feel like being forced to have a conversation with a stranger.
    Twenty minutes later, the seat beside me is still vacant as the airplane taxis toward the strip. More luck, I’ll take it. But as the seatbelt digs in when the pilot turns us onto the runway, I have a horrible thought. Is this too easy? But no, I’ve done everything right, as I’ve been trained to do. We’re safe and heading where we need to go. Still, the niggling doubt remains. Surely, Femke would know we’d be trying to travel using normal channels. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable suddenly with the knowledge Sage and I are now trapped in a giant prison if the Enforcers choose to come after us.
    I force myself to calm