by Ella M. Lee
You are clever, I thought. His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.
“Well?” I said to Daniel.
I was a little tense being so close to him. Despite being small and—according to Nicolas—young, he had a ridiculous amount of complex magic swirling in and around him, and he had the muscles and the poised composure of a skilled fighter.
His eyes were intelligent and assessing. Although they looked very dark in contrast to his bright hair, up close I could see they were really a very rich shade of mahogany, almost ruddy.
He was studying me with slight distaste, but when he spoke, his tone was professional.
“Is Flame looking to develop a presence in Hong Kong?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Where’s the nearest Flame clan house to Hong Kong?” he asked.
I pursed my lips at him incredulously. “I’m not answering that,” I said, “but it’s nowhere near here.”
He gave me a hard, displeased look.
“Sorry,” I said, shrugging. “Next question, please.”
He sighed. “Weird,” he said. “There are two Flames fishing around the city, and none of my contacts seem to know why. I’d like to know what they are doing here.”
“Are you going to kill them?” I asked him, feeling light-headed. I didn’t want to think that anyone from my former clan would be hurt by Water.
“What?” Daniel asked, alarmed. His eyes were wide and intense. “No, no. Water owns this city. We are good enough at keeping ourselves obfuscated and safe. They are fine as long as they don’t start something here.”
Nicolas was watching me, his expression concerned. He didn’t seem to like my implications that his clan would just murder anyone who bothered them. Daniel, too, was looking at me as though I was crazy. I had always been told Water was a violent clan, but maybe they were more like Nicolas himself—only violent when provoked.
“Flame wouldn’t dare make a move in Hong Kong,” Nicolas said. “Water has thirty-six groups here alone. That’s more than all of Flame combined. And although we’re the largest Water clan house in the world, we don’t have the majority of all existing Water groups.”
My eyes went wide. I knew Flame was one of the smaller clans, but I didn’t know exactly how small it was compared to Water.
“If I showed you pictures, could you identify these Flames?” Daniel asked me.
He pulled out his phone, and I looked away quickly. If I saw them, I wouldn’t be able to keep from thinking the names, and Nicolas would hear them immediately in my mind. Daniel seemed to know what I was thinking. He frowned.
“Seriously, Fi,” he said. “No one is going to hurt them. It’s better if we know who they are and what they are doing. It’ll keep them safer. Water doesn’t like surprises or unknowns.”
He angled his phone toward me and flipped between two pictures. I looked at them reluctantly, trying to keep my thoughts as circumspect as possible.
But to my surprise, there was no need for that. I looked up at him, confused.
“Those magicians aren’t from Flame,” I said.
I didn’t recognize the woman in the first photo with the long, dark hair or the strong-jawed man in the second photo. I took another careful look just to make sure.
Daniel eyed me disbelievingly.
I shook my head at him. “I don’t know what to tell you. They aren’t Flame.”
He whipped his head around to look at Nicolas, who was studying me with interest. He nodded at Daniel. “She’s telling the truth,” Nicolas said.
“Are you sure?” Daniel asked. “Maybe they were clanned and you didn’t know?”
“I’m very sure,” I said. “My clan is small. The joining process is difficult and long. Candidates and new members are known. I’m a librarian at a larger clan house—I know everyone, and information passes through me.”
“Librarian?” he echoed.
“Yeah, I did research for the clan, mostly. Data collection, analysis, report writing, boring stuff,” I said.
He raised a brow at me. “That’s what I do.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Well, then you know what I mean.”
I thought he’d be offended, but he smiled weakly, and I knew I was off the hook for any sort of bitter commentary.
“Maybe they were glamoured?” he offered.
“Flame doesn’t have glamour magic.” I gave him my best “are you an idiot?” look.
“But our clan’s security team identified these two by their magic as Flame,” he said. “Are you saying they are wrong?”
“Definitely wrong,” I said. “Maybe they are Meteor? Those two magics read very similarly, even to me, and I actually had Flame magic.”
“Would you be able to tell from a spectrometer reading?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Show me.”
Daniel pulled up some other screen on his phone and handed it to me. It was a chart with the magical scan for the woman on it, indicating key points and flow, used to identify magical type and strength. I studied the eight lines carefully, following their rises and falls.
I beckoned, and Daniel leaned closer. “See this bottom line?” I asked, pointing. “Do you see how it looks like a heartbeat? Up and down with even spacing? Flame has that same baseline, but the spacing of the upticks would be much farther apart. This closeness indicates Meteor.” I gave him a disbelieving look. “You can’t read a spec chart?”
Daniel ignored my disparaging question. “You have experience with Meteor?”
He was watching me with interest. Nicolas, too, was studying me as though I were an animal who had done some amazing trick that he couldn’t quite believe.
I hesitated. “Yes. Some.”
I didn’t want to elaborate, didn’t want to tell my life’s story to these two men who might still kill me at any moment. My deal with Nicolas was holding, but I didn’t know how long that would last.
Surprisingly, Daniel didn’t ask any more questions. I took that as an opportunity to speak.
“Does Meteor have a presence in Hong Kong?” I asked.
They most certainly had no significant following here, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have some clan members hanging around.
Daniel looked toward Nicolas. It was clear that Nicolas had the final say over what sort of information I received.
Nicolas shrugged. “A small presence. But these two aren’t on the known list, and therefore they aren’t welcome here. Meteor is too unpredictable to allow them to run wild in our city.”
Daniel turned to Nicolas and asked several questions in Cantonese. I went to get myself a bottle of water, looking for an excuse to get farther from Daniel. I was nervous around him, and although he had been polite so far today, he was clearly still wary of me. I didn’t want to give him a reason to pick a fight with me again.
I returned to the couch Nicolas was seated on, pressing myself into the corner farthest away and wrapping my arms around myself.
After several minutes of their incomprehensible conversation, I felt my eyelids drooping.
“Go to bed, Fiona,” Nicolas said eventually, making a light shooing motion toward his bedroom.
It was one order I didn’t need to consider twice. I was too tired to care that I was laying myself down in Nicolas’s bed, curling myself around his pillows, huddling under his duvet to keep away the cold and ever-present panic that threatened to destroy me.
When I woke, it was fully light outside, and the sun had risen over the distant mountains. Nicolas was awake; I could hear him typing on his laptop in the living room.
I hauled myself out of bed, shivering at how cold it was in the room. Nicolas’s gaze met mine as I walked past him to the bathroom. I noticed belatedly that he was wearing earphones. I waved tentatively, and he nodded in response.
Okay, I could get through another day if Nicolas was going to be calm and collected as usual.
I cleaned up, tamed my messy hair, and changed cloth
es. My face was still a mess, bruised and blotchy. I hated looking at the reminder that I had been beaten and dragged here and was now stuck with a man who was, at best, considering keeping me because he found me interesting and at worst might kill me if I inconvenienced him in any way.
Nicolas’s eyes tracked me as I went from the bathroom back into the bedroom. He didn’t stop me or address me, and I climbed back under the duvet in relief.
I was glad our tentative truce was still in place, and I was glad he seemed to have no desire to bother me nor had any demands to make of me. I huddled under the covers for most of the morning, alternately reading a book and falling into short stints of half sleep. I wondered how long it would be before I could get a full night’s rest again. I was feeling light-headed and ill and frustrated that I couldn’t so much as nap properly. My heart was pounding too hard, my chest at this point still a massive tangle of anxiety.
I tried to call up my calm, even breathing from yesterday and the centering I had somehow managed, but I couldn’t do it. Every time I got even remotely near the stillness and strength I needed to engage it, adrenaline hit me like a bus, and I crashed with it.
Great, I could only center myself when my worst enemy was holding my hands. I laughed slightly at the absurdity.
Eventually, Nicolas came to the bedroom door.
“Fiona?” he asked.
“Yes?” I replied, peeking out at him from the pile of fluffy linens.
His hands were folded in front of him demurely, and all his glorious magic was snapped in tightly. He looked—well, he looked pretty normal.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Would you like something to eat?”
I shook my head. I didn’t think I could eat anything. I wasn’t all right, not really, but I figured that hardly mattered. There wasn’t anything to be done about it, regardless.
He frowned. “You should eat.”
“Sorry,” I said, unsure of why I was apologizing.
He disappeared from the doorway, and I sighed. He was right, of course, but I just couldn’t imagine it. No food sounded appealing to me right now, not even any of my favorites from my old life. I could barely swallow my own saliva.
Nicolas returned a couple of minutes later. He set a mug on the nightstand next to me.
“At least drink this,” he said. “Please.”
“What is it?”
“Tea with lemon and honey.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
I was beginning to like this kind and considerate Nicolas who went above and beyond, even when I only offered him surly half sentences.
He was trying. I should be trying too.
But it was hard to make myself care. Without a plan or a future, it was hard to believe I was bound for any fate except eventual execution. How could I possibly be good enough to impress Nicolas? I thought of the things I was good at—research, analysis, organization, fighting—and I felt too weary to even imagine myself able to do any of it anymore.
Nicolas hesitated for a moment before going back out into the living room without another word. I shifted so that I could pick up the mug. The tea was warm and sweet and made me feel a tiny bit better. I sank back down against the pillows, frowning. Was this my life now? Boring nothingness? Limbo? Being constantly on edge but never moving forward?
At least the overwhelming fear was gone. Now I was just sad and panicked over being trapped here with my fate undecided.
I was half asleep sometime later when I heard commotion in the other room. I sat up, startled. Nicolas was answering the door. I saw the tiniest wisps of Daniel’s bright hair. They had a short conversation before Daniel left. I got out of bed and went out into the living room.
Nicolas was holding a box in both hands. He set it down carefully on the kitchen counter.
“Sure you’re not hungry?” he asked, opening the lid. “These are still warm.”
Inside were a pile of perfect golden buns with crispy-looking tops. They smelled delicious.
“What are they?” I asked. I had seen them before in bakeries, but I didn’t know their name.
“Pineapple buns,” he said. “There’s no fruit in them. The name is for the crisscross pattern on the top. Daniel makes them, and they are excellent.”
“Daniel made these?” I asked, unsure if I had heard him correctly.
“He likes to cook and bake, and he knows these are my favorite. They are his way of apologizing for antagonizing you and showing me his support.”
“So he still supports this thing with me?” I asked.
He hadn’t seemed particularly supportive last night, but I suppose it was progress to go from physical violence to mere needling banter within a couple of days.
“Of course,” Nicolas said. “Daniel is infinitely flexible. It’s one of my favorite things about him. He’s always open to his mind being changed with the right evidence. You are providing that to him, whether you know it or not.”
Nicolas picked up a bun and handed it to me. It was warm, and my mouth watered just looking at it. I took a bite and sighed in pleasure. It was fabulous—pillowy and sweet and soft. Okay, maybe I liked Daniel a little more now.
“I will keep trying with him,” I said.
Nicolas gave me a relieved smile, then he took a bun from the box and went to sit by the windows. His gaze was fixed outward, and I realized that he liked watching the rain. I smiled. He was a Water magician. Of course. He probably liked precipitation of all kinds.
I followed him, sinking to the floor cross-legged, carefully leaving several feet between us. Nicolas alternately watched me and watched the light drizzle and shifting clouds outside.
I leaned back on my hands, oddly relaxed. I wondered what Nicolas was looking for in me and whether I would be able to provide it. I didn’t feel like I could do much of anything right now. I hadn’t been mortal in five years, and I didn’t know what “normal” was anymore. Was it normal to be this tired? To be this nervous? To feel this weak?
After a few long minutes, Nicolas asked, “Are there things I should know about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Meteor?”
“Nothing to tell,” I said, shrugging. Two could play at the little-to-no-elaboration game.
“No… you are not the type for Meteor,” he said, pursing his lips. His tone was decisive. “Flame wasn’t perfect for you either, despite your compatibility.”
I bristled at his condescension, that he would speak of me and Flame so decisively despite not knowing much about it.
I missed magic more than almost anything. Every part of me tingled and ached. Was I going through some sort of withdrawal? Would it be better if I had Water magic? Would I even be able to handle Water magic? Would I be any good with it?
“You will be good with Water,” Nicolas said, answering my thoughts. “Do you think you’re ready for a taste? I’m not confident it’s a good idea yet, but I’m willing to defer to your judgment on this point.”
“How kind of you,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Will it try to kill me?”
“No. At worst, you won’t be able to handle it, and it will dissipate, leaving you merely wrung out.”
“Well, that’s already better than Flame,” I said, shrugging. “Why not give it a go?”
Chapter 14
Nicolas held out both of his hands, palms up.
An invitation.
As a commander, he had the ability to grant magic to others so that they could use it themselves. He could bring people into the clan by giving them permanent access to magic, but he could also temporarily gift small amounts of magic to others from his own personal sanctum. He had no doubt done it before for various reasons, including to help a clanmate whose supply was running low or to introduce a clan candidate to the magic.
I moved closer to him. Very slowly, I put my hands on top of his.
“My magic is not as easy to handle as some other commanders’ magic,” he said. “I’m going to give you as little as po
ssible, and I’ll try to calm it, but you’ll need to bend it firmly to your will. Find your center first, Fiona.”
I closed my eyes, settling myself, looking inward. The excitement of trying new magic ran through me, and I only needed a few breaths to clear my mind and ground myself.
Nicolas waited patiently, his hands lightly supporting mine.
“Okay,” I told him. “I’m ready.”
In the blink of an eye, I felt magic rushing through my veins again. I gasped. He had only given me a tiny drop, but my mind was suddenly on fire, alert and sharp. Everything in the room glowed, the magic in me recognizing all of his shields and wards as friends. He glowed, a radiant blue sun in my vision. My heartbeat felt like crashing waves, my breath like gentle rain, my skin like dew drops.
His magic pounded through me, refusing to settle, trying desperately to figure out what to do with its new container. It was wild, and each beat of my heart seemed to excite it further.
After a moment, my training kicked in. I pushed back against the magic, shifting it so that it was under my control. It was different from Flame, but I still understood how to handle it.
Hush, I told it sternly, using my focus and stillness to soothe it.
The room and the radiance that was Nicolas dimmed in my vision. I could see and hear again, although my heartbeat drummed loudly in my ears.
“Are you all right?” Nicolas asked.
“I think so,” I whispered, blinking several times.
Nicolas was smiling. He held up a water bottle. I cupped my right hand, and he poured a bit of water into it.
It felt like the oldest friend I had ever known. For a moment, all I could do was stare at it. It seemed like if only I could see deeply enough, through the shifting light and shadows, I would learn its darkest secrets.
I didn’t know much about Water magic, but I did remember a snippet from a book about each of the eight clan creations. It had mentioned that Water Clan had been created almost a thousand years ago by the seafaring Polynesians, who desperately needed the water’s cooperation to survive, especially at night when they had little more than the stars to guide them.