by Wendy Knight
Flint nodded without looking at them. Probably still angry that he’d been sent up on that wall as a test but not bold enough to call them out on it.
Aquis came out behind him. Galvan hung back, waiting to see what happened. Flint paused next to him, staring at the floor.
Aquis ducked through the hangar door, and any trace of tension she’d displayed was gone. She looked like a warrior goddess coming back from battle.
“Aquis, a word,” Cora said, each word clipped with barely controlled anger.
Aquis raised her chin and stormed up to them, her hands fisted at her sides when she stopped toe to toe with her mother. “What’s up?”
“Why were you on that wall?” Cora hissed. “I explicitly told you—”
“Because if you thought it was safe enough to send our Pyras, then it should have been safe enough for me,” Aquis snapped back. “They had no Amazi up there to control the water. No one to protect them. You expected them to burn back the force of a dam? Flint is powerful, but that’s insane—”
“You know full well it was a test. And you failed. We planned to pull them off the wall before anything could happen, Aquis.” Cora matched Aquis’s defiant glare with a furious one of her own.
“Except you didn’t.”
Cora’s eyebrows shot up and Ren’s jaw fell open. Aquis’s words were so quiet Galvan could barely hear them, but they seemed to echo through the room.
Even Flint sucked in a breath.
“Your job isn’t to question our decisions,” Ren started, but Aquis cut him off.
“You’re right. My job is to be a student. To learn. It isn’t to question if my parents are sending us into dangerous situations, but here we are. And if I hadn’t disobeyed your orders, my best friends would both be dead. So forgive me for not throwing myself at your feet and begging for whatever forgiveness you think is owed.” She turned on her heel and marched away, brushing past Galvan and Flint as she did.
Galvan felt the Pyra burn from the brief touch, and Flint flinched away from it as well, but Aquis seemed not to notice in her anger. The heels of her boots slammed angrily across the concrete until she disappeared inside the school.
Cora and Ren both turned after her, seemingly surprised to see Galvan and Flint still there. Cora flushed and looked away. Ren adjusted his tie, staring at the floor.
“Did you boys need something?”
“No sir,” Flint responded. “We were just waiting for Aquis.”
Galvan rolled his eyes. Aquis had left. They were still standing there.
He turned and went after her before they could ask any more awkward questions, a thousand responses of his own tumbling through his head. They’d put them in danger. The school, the Counsel, whoever had been calling the shots. Aquis shouldn’t get punished for not following orders.
All this for a stupid test.
A test he’d passed and she’d failed, even after saving multiple lives.
She wasn’t in the cafeteria when they got there, so he and Flint ate silently, mulling over their own thoughts and battling exhaustion. It wasn’t until they were past the threshold in The Station when Flint spoke.
“If I hadn’t gone onto that wall, would you have?”
Galvan frowned at the stone steps he’d been trying so hard to get up without face planting. “What?”
“Would you have followed their orders or mine if I’d said to stay off the wall?” Flint, too, stared at the floor, but seemed to not even see the stairs.
Galvan shrugged. “Rules say follow mission leader. That’s why they’re there. People here at the school can’t call the shots when we’re out in the field. They can’t see the whole picture. I don’t know. It’s a hard question.”
“It sounds like you know.”
The commons were empty. Everyone was still in bed except Kenna, whom Galvan had seen going toward the girls’ dorms a few minutes before them. Flint paused, staring up at Galvan, and it took several seconds before Galvan realized he was waiting for a response.
“Yeah. I guess I would have followed you.”
“I could have saved us then. And Aquis wouldn’t have had to make that decision.”
Galvan pulled in an exhausted breath, sinking to the couch so he could tug off his boots. He didn’t have the energy for such an emotionally exhausting conversation.
“But we would have failed the test.”
Flint nodded. “Yeah. Instead, we passed and she failed. Protecting us.”
“It’s Aquis.” Galvan ran a hand through his hair. “She doesn’t need to pass tests and jump through hoops. She’s so powerful the Elites are practically beating down her door.”
“No one wants a soldier who can’t follow orders,” Flint said numbly. He sat next to Galvan, slouching down into the cushions and staring at nothing. “She’s in trouble because of me.”
“She made that decision on her own,” Galvan said weakly, because he didn’t believe in his argument any more than Flint did. She had made the decision on her own, but she’d done it for them. Because they hadn’t made the right decision on their own.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Flint said abruptly, his gaze still focused on nothing. Galvan winced. He had the same problem.
Not that he’d ever admit that to Flint.
Or anyone.
Aquis was obnoxious.
And gorgeous.
And fierce.
And loyal.
And—
“I think I’m in love with her,” Flint mumbled. “And I don’t know what to do.”
Galvan half-laughed. “We know.”
“What?” Flint asked, his gaze finally snapping toward Galvan. “What do you mean, we know? Who is we?”
“The whole school. We’ve known for years.”
Flint raked a hand through his hair and down his face.
“Does she know?” he asked weakly. Hopefully.
Galvan shrugged, his heart constricting uncomfortably in his chest. “You know her better than anyone.”
“Except you.”
Galvan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t—what?”
“You know what to say to calm her down. You know what to say to push her forward. You know when to stand back and when to move. I never know any of that.”
That’s because I’ve spent a lifetime of watching for every flaw she has.
So I can convince myself I’m not in love with her too.
“You’re her best friend,” Galvan said, his words struggling through the tightness in his throat. “I’m the sidekick she can’t wait to get out of the way.”
Flint snorted. “If she wanted you out of the way, trust me, you’d be gone. She’d have you buried somewhere in the back yard.”
Before Galvan could respond to that horrifying imagery, Flint continued. “No, she plays football so you’ll come practice with us. She rearranges her schedule so you can make it to her tests. She wants you around. Sometimes I think she wants you there more than she wants me there.”
Galvan rolled his eyes, hoping Flint couldn’t hear his heart trying to escape from his rib cage. It was so unbearably loud. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. You’ve been her best friend since kindergarten. I’m going to bed. See you later.”
Flint didn’t rise when Galvan did. He stayed where he was, still staring at nothing, exhaustion evident in every line of his body.
“Yeah. See you later.”
Galvan was nearly to the stairs when Flint spoke again. “Do you think I should tell her?”
It was the moment Galvan had been dreading since sixth grade and he’d suspected Flint was in love with Aquis. The moment he would be forgotten and they would ride happily off into the sunset. But he’d always been afraid of losing Flint, his best friend.
Only recently had it changed.
And he was afraid of losing her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AQUIS sat in the office chair, staring straight ahead while her parents paced the room. Neither of them knew what to
do with her. She had to be punished, they’d said. She had to be taught to follow orders.
But she’d also saved multiple lives.
So there was that.
She’d slept a total of thirty minutes that morning before her alarm had gone off. She’d been called out of class during first period. Mara had been the one to deliver her summons, and she’d looked far too smug about it all.
By the time breakfast was over, everyone had known what Aquis had done. Most agreed it was terribly heroic, but Mara, especially, seemed thrilled that Aquis had messed up.
Again.
As her parents had pointed out no less than three times already in the last five minutes, she had a history of not following orders.
This was news to her. She’d never realized it until they’d listed all the times, and her mother’s voice rose in pitch with each new infraction.
Aquis could have argued them all. For every one she had a reason. They knew that. She’d explained it. Things had turned out better because of her actions—they’d been forced to admit that at the time.
But none of that mattered, so she listened silently and waited for it to end and she could find out what her punishment would be.
“I just don’t understand why you’re so headstrong. The Elites aren’t going to accept a recruit who doesn’t follow orders, Aquis.”
“I’m not headstrong. I follow orders.” Aquis tucked her hands together in her lap so they couldn’t see the shaking. “Except when I have no choice.”
“You were completely disrespectful to us in front of your entire team this morning. If you were to do that in the Elites—”
“The only ones left in the hangar were Galvan and Flint. Everyone else was gone.”
Cora threw up her hands. “See? This is exactly what I mean!”
Aquis did not see. Even a little bit.
“We’ve perhaps pushed you harder than we should have through the years,” Ren started, leaning on hip against the edge of the desk. “But now you’re the most powerful student in the school, you’re on track to being accepted into officer training—”
“Flint is the most powerful student in the school,” Aquis interrupted. “Not me. Despite the fact that I work twenty times harder than he does.”
Cora and Ren shared an unreadable look. “There’s—that’s just—there’s a logical explanation for that.” Cora straightened the papers on her desk and refused to meet Aquis’s gaze.
Aquis narrowed her eyes. “Which is?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Cora said again, exasperated.
Aquis blinked in confusion.
“You’re always questioning. You have no authority to question. You’re a child, Aquis. You do as you’re told without question.”
Aquis gritted her teeth. “I’m eighteen. I’m technically an adult.”
Cora growled under her breath, rubbing her temples. Aquis felt like doing the same but kept her hands in her lap.
“We have carefully considered your punishment,” Ren said, and Aquis could only feel relief. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as sitting here while they told her how much of a failure she was. “You will not be allowed to go to the end of the year ball.”
Aquis internally winced but refused to show it in her face. She’d been excited about her last dance of her school career. But she’d been more afraid they’d make her miss graduation, so she didn’t complain.
“Fine.”
They exchanged another glance. “Fine?”
She kept her mouth shut. They were expecting her to argue, and she’d just be proving their point that she was too outspoken and too headstrong. So she met her mother’s eyes and waited to be dismissed.
“Fine.” Cora nodded. “You can go back to class.”
Aquis rose to her feet and walked slowly out of the room, careful to put one foot in front of the other and keep her head high. She wouldn’t let them see her cry. Not now.
Not ever.
The halls were empty, everyone else had already gone to second period, so she got her books out of her locker and slammed it too hard, the metal sagging under her touch.
“Problem?”
Aquis jumped. “Galvan. What are you doing?” Her voice sounded wobbly and tear-stained even to her own ears. She hoped he didn’t know her well enough to recognize it.
He did. Despite their mutual annoyance of each other, he’d been in her life for twelve years, almost every single day. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
She shook her head, rolling her eyes, mostly to fight the tears that seemed determined to escape.
“There’s no problem.”
She hurried down the hall, books clutched to her chest, her heels clicking angrily against the hardwood.
He fell into step beside her, hands in his pockets, tall and lanky and gorgeous.
“Mara told everyone you’d been called to their office. What’d they say?”
“That I’m too headstrong and don’t follow orders and no one is ever going to want me. And I can’t go to the year-end ball.”
“No mention of how you saved our lives?”
Aquis almost smiled at the mild sarcasm in his voice.
“No.”
“Hm.” He rocked back on his heels. “I would have led with that.”
She snorted.
They walked in silence until he reached his classroom. Just before she left him, he reached out, almost touching her arm. Aquis stilled, staring down at his elegant fingers.
“Be you. That’s enough. In a month, we won’t be here anymore and none of this will matter.”
Be you. That’s enough.
Her throat caught at his kind words, kind especially coming from Galvan, who usually seemed put out just having to talk to her. Before she could cry, she nodded—so quickly her glasses slid down her nose—and hurried away.
Aquis was almost to her class when she heard voices coming from Invictus Hall. Odd, because no one had practice this early in the morning. Frowning, she sidled closer, listening hard.
“I don’t know details. I just heard the dam break was Elemental-made.”
Aquis didn’t recognize the voice, but the words made her blood run cold. Someone who couldn’t control their powers, maybe? An untrained Elemental?
“The witness I spoke with said it was an Elemental, but that they had two powers—Amazi and Terra. Like a Firestarter but—but not.”
Aquis nearly dropped her books. She’d never heard of a double Elemental before. Was such a thing even possible?
The voices moved closer, and in an attempt to not get caught eavesdropping, she skittered backward and sprinted for her class. Just as she ducked inside, she caught sight of two Counsel members coming around the corner.
The rumors weren’t just teenage speculation then.
Dread coiled in Aquis’s stomach—like something bad was coming that she didn’t quite understand.
She slid through the door to class and into her seat next to Flint before the teacher turned around. He gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head, flipping her book open and trying to lose herself in facts and figures and dates and people, but her mind spun with what she’d just heard.
Surely, a double Elemental wasn’t a thing. There was no record of anything like that in their history. It would have to be created, and who had the knowledge to do that? Without the Counsel knowing?
“So what’s the damage?” Flint asked, his voice low as he leaned toward her. He kept his eyes on the teacher at the front of the room, but his hair just brushed her cheek, tangling with her own.
“Damage?” She blinked, trying to understand a question her brain didn’t have time for.
“You were called to the office?” He sat back, speaking out of the corner of his mouth.
The office?
Oh. Right.
Her punishment.
She shook her head. “No year-end ball for me.”
“What?” he asked, too loudly, and the teach
er turned around to scowl at the room. Flint fell silent and sank down in his chair, pouting as if it had been his punishment, not hers.
He was a good friend.
But she was more excited to tell him what she’d heard from the Counsel, which was impossible at the moment because the teacher now watched them like a hawk, expecting them to read the book and not have conversations about mythical Elementals and conspiracy theories.
So rude.
As soon as class was over and they were in the hall though, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and dragged him aside. She waved Galvan over as soon as she saw him emerge from his own class and she could catch his eye.
“What’s going on?” Flint asked. “Are we crashing the ball?”
“What?” She blinked and shook her head. “No, not the ball. I heard the weirdest thing.”
Galvan tried to rearrange his face to hide his amusement—or maybe it was annoyance? She could never tell. Flint crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
She lowered her voice, leaning closer in case anyone tried to overhear them. “I heard two Counsel members say the dam break was Elemental-made.”
Flint looked less than impressed and Galvan shrugged. “It happens all the time. They probably never got proper training—”
She cut him off, shaking her head so hard she nearly knocked her glasses off again. “That’s not the weird thing. They said it was from a double-Elemental. Terra and Amazi.”
Flint’s jaw dropped and Galvan stared at her. It took him several seconds to respond. “That’s not possible.”
“According to the Counsel it is.”
“Aquis, Galvan, Flint, get to class please,” Cora called, sweeping through the halls and ushering students along their way. She met Aquis’s eyes but Aquis looked away, still hurting from her earlier comments.
She could too follow orders.
“Are you going to ask them?” Flint asked as they left the alcove, winding their way through straggling students.
Aquis stared at her mother’s rigid back. “I don’t know. Maybe. But not right now.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
GALVAN couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so tired. Fighting flood waters all night, running on thirty minutes of sleep and a full day of class and practice had run him ragged. If he was ever in charge of a school, he’d give the ones sent out on patrols the day off so they could get some sleep.