Walk on Water

by September Thomas

  Everyone knew those symbols.

  Everyone knew those uniforms.

  The Order.

  Finn had been right about everything.

  I’d unconsciously moved to the automatic doors at the front of the hotel. In that moment, staring at the face of an establishment I’d never truly considered in my life, seeing exactly what I was up against, I felt incredibly small. I was one girl against an unrivaled military.

  A loudspeaker clicked on with an unmistakable squeal followed by: “Zara Ramone, come out now. Keep your hands raised where we can see them.”

  I’d never felt so cold in my life. It radiated from my bones, from my soul. They knew exactly who I was. And they’d come for me.

  A handful of people clustered in the lobby. The manager stood frozen, eyes fixed out the window, her painted mouth hanging wide. The woman who’d obviously issued some sort of command was on her feet, one hand braced on the butt of a gun hanging from her belt. She was fixated on me as if I were the threat. What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

  “Zara, we know you’re in there,” speaker guy called again. “Come out of the building with your hands raised. You are surrounded. There is no way out. If you surrender peacefully, we can guarantee your safety, by the command of the Order.”

  The soldiers stood in five long rows, hands clutching their weapons diagonally across their chests. A helicopter droned overhead, dipping into view long enough for me to notice a lack of news station logos. A long gun jutted out from a wide door thrown open along the side. I could feel the eyes on me, people in the lobby slowly realizing I was the object of the Order’s attention. Innocent people, even a few fey, all waiting to see what I would do.

  I didn’t want them to get hurt.

  The person on the loudspeaker issued the command again.

  I took a step toward the door and Finn was there, gripping my arm.

  “Don’t you dare go out there. We can figure this out.” His eyes pleaded with me to listen to him, begged me to stop and think for a minute. But I’d made up my mind. If they wanted me this badly, badly enough to hint at violence to even more people, they could have me.

  I’d accept whatever consequences came with that.

  My magic already buzzed right beneath my skin, drawn there by my heightened anxiety and threat to my safety. When I lifted a hand to gently brush Finn away, I found it coated in ice.

  “You don’t have to come with me,” I said, the words hollow in my ears.

  I stepped away from him toward the doors, incapable of stopping the ice dripping from my fingers forming icicles. I was so cold. So incredibly cold. When the doors slid open, I heard Ryder scream, “Zara, get down!”

  I whirled, dropping low on instinct as three somethings whizzed over me, where my head had been. A second later, I realized that loud popping was a gun firing, the woman in the corner approaching with a look of absolute intensity fixed on her face. I threw myself to the side as two more bullets soared by, one grazed the outside of my arm.

  Ryder was a blur of shadow.

  One second the woman was moving, finger already pulling back on the trigger, the next she was across the room. Her back hit the wall with enough force to dent it, her head snapping back at an angle. Something cracked and her body went limp, a trail of blood dripping from a corner of her mouth. Ryder stood over her, hands tipped with black claws clenched. He snarled as he snatched up the gun and broke it in two.

  He turned to me, beautiful golden eyes now bright, radiant red. Smoke curled around his shoulders. The skin on his face had thinned, if such a thing were possible, as if a beast hid beneath, trying to get out.

  Behind me, where the bullets had flown, someone screamed for help. I scrambled to my feet, turning to see a man hunched over the body of the manager. His hands were folded across her chest, pumping rhythmically, as a bright red stain spread across her clothing and pooled on the ground. He called for help again, before pressing his mouth to hers and breathing into it.

  Even I knew, by the amount of blood alone, she was already gone.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell and holler and lash out. This wasn’t fair. That poor woman wasn’t a part of this. She should still be standing there, behind the counter, ready to help the next customer. Instead she wouldn’t be going home. Ever again. Whoever was waiting for her at home would never see her smile, never hear her voice, never hold her close.

  The chapters had ended in her book.

  And it was all because of the Order.

  22

  Zara

  The ice that had melted from my hands and puddled on the ground froze over as a surreal, deadly calm washed over me. A wave of clarity flooded my mind, grasping me by the core, and shaking me. The Order couldn’t be allowed to operate like this, to take lives at will, to threaten the innocent and the weak.

  I swung to the door, face set and blank. The loudspeaker blared again, the person behind it repeating the same promise of no violence. Lies. Ryder moved to my side in three steps. His clawed hand was surprisingly gentle as it gripped my shoulder. The lack of give in his skin, now morphed black as ink, was evident. Juts of bone that resembled horns curled from his temples as the hazy smoke that was his magic spilled from his pores.

  I didn’t even feel the pain from my arm where the bullet grazed it.

  I flexed my fingers, and the ice from the floor flew upward, wrapping around my hands in a strange version of clear armor. Finn stepped to my other side, his face firm with resolve as his shoulders hunched forward.

  “I’m not surrendering.”

  I was done hiding.

  Claws dug into my shoulder, a grip of support.

  “If they want me, they have to go through me first.”

  Glass crunched under my feet. One of the windows had shattered when a bullet hit it. As I walked through the front door, I spared a glance back. The humans in the room peered out at me from behind furniture. The man who’d tried to help the woman had stopped, hands stained red, mouth fixed in a grim line.

  It was the fey, though, on whom I focused. A handful of them flexed their magic, eyeing my icy fingers and the black brand swooshing across Finn’s neck. I shrugged off my light jacket, revealing the crest that pulsated with power and light, knowing what I was asking. Knowing they understood. Two of them flashed feral grins, magic already in motion as they moved forward.

  The loudspeaker called again. “Zara Ramone. You have two minutes to come out peacefully or we will be forced to take action.”

  I pointed at the door.

  “That’s me. I’m Zara, and I’m the true God of Water. I’m a seventeen-year-old girl who wants to swim, and I didn’t want to be dragged into this mess. But you saw for yourself. You saw that woman, that person working for the Order—” I pointed at the badge now visible inside her jacket where it was flung open across her body, “—come after me. This isn’t the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last. This needs to stop and it won’t until I do something about it.”

  Enough hiding.

  Time for the world to know that everything was changing again.

  Time for them to discover the Gods weren’t quite so dead after all.

  Ready to play, I called out to my element, feeling it stir in my belly.

  So soon? Energy eagerly snaked up my arms and down my legs, blue sparked out my fingertips, wrapping around my body in a mini-typhoon of power.

  Time to kick some serious ass.

  Let’s do this.

  It was like a geyser opened, Old Faithful bursting forth from the ground. I choked in a strangled breath as electric power pumped into every last cell. It flooded my eyes, my mouth with a tangy taste, demanding release.

  Soon, I called to it.

  It relented enough to let me breathe, and I strode through the doors like a gods-damned reawakening.

  For the first time, I truly embraced what I was, what I had become.

  I was the God of Water.

  And I was pissed.r />
  The man on the loudspeaker stopped mid-sentence. It cut out with a squeal as I gazed at the wall of soldiers. They shifted as one, the barrel of each weapon aimed directly at me. The police officers had moved back, pushing the bystanders with them about two blocks away. The helicopter remained a dull drone overhead, and I breathed in deep.

  “I’m the person you’re after. My name is Zara Ramone and I am your long-lost God of Water. You think to try to kill me. You think to threaten violence to bring me in. You kill my friends. You kill my allies. And you kill people I’ll never know.

  “I’m giving you one chance, one chance as my Order, as soldiers in my army, as people who are supposedly devoted to me to stand down. I will not ask again.”

  Nothing.

  Not a twitch, not a sneeze. No reaction. Even the wind didn’t dare blow. The wall of dark visors remained fixed, fingers steady on their triggers.

  Then came that irritating bullhorn. “Put your hands up. We don’t wish to shoot.”

  “Too late for that.”

  Twin balls of electric blue ice tumbled into my hands. Ryder and Finn darted forward, Finn shifting into full horse form as he moved. He threw his head back, red eyes glowing hot as embers, and whinnied, the sound shrill and piercing.

  Three soldiers knelt, fingers falling to the triggers of their weapons. Behind them, a modernized cannon hummed, a glowing green light spinning up from its dark depths.

  Yeah, I’d call that first move.

  The three of us moved as one. Ryder flung out thick, dense smoke that acted like mist before throwing one of the soldiers to the ground. Finn charged right into the foray, head down, razor-sharp hooves crushing feet as he knocked soldiers off-kilter.

  I went for the cannon, flinging one of the balls of ice at it as hard as I could. When it hit the exterior, I unclenched my fist, long jagged spikes of icicles shooting outward, gouging deep holes into the metal exterior. Its long gun snapped off when one particularly sharp edge sheared through the barrel. Not waiting to see what would happen next, I fell to the ground as a barrage of bullets flew, pressing my palms to the ground, calling the massive amounts of water beneath the streets at once.

  Gunfire spattered as the cement cracked open, a tower of water towering twenty feet tall roared out and slammed into the wall of men blocking me from escape. The armored soldiers scattered, some washed away by the fury of the frothing waves.

  Someone screamed behind me and when I turned, a soldier was ripped backward, helmet flying off, and he vanished into the darkness. Ryder emerged.

  “Don’t lose control again,” he warned. “But if you do, know that I’m not afraid to bring you back.” Laughter laced his voice as he jumped into a flurry of motion, roundhouse kicking one of the first men who dared broach the fine mists. Another man got an elbow to the gullet, and I winced in sympathy before moving forward to find my own battles.

  A dark horse blurred in the fog, monstrous in size, rearing up on its hind legs, backwards-facing hooves lashing out as it whinnied, the sound like bones scraping in a graveyard. When the kelpie came back down, it trampled a few men in front of it, blood spraying and bones snapping. Before I could call out to him, Finn darted back into the fog searching for more prey.

  Bullets peppered the ground at my feet, and I hissed when something sharp bit into my side. I touched it briefly, gasping when my fingers came back red. Three men charged, guns blazing, finding strength in numbers. Tingles numbed my fingers and toes as I pulled on the ankle-deep water still gushing from the broken mains. Three towers of water spun up in front of me like snakes and lashed out, hitting the men in their faces, the water forcing its way down their throats.

  They drowned where they stood.

  I backed away, not hearing the thumps of their bodies hitting the pavement.

  Three deaths. Three deaths at my hands.

  I was officially a killer.

  I didn’t have time to think about it now.

  A green laser shot through the haze as I searched for a new target. A creature with clawed hands and butterfly wings yanked me back, but not quickly enough as the beam bit deep into my biceps, driving me to my knees. The fey crouched, scanning the dark, and I noticed horns curling around its temples. A booted foot emerged and the fey leaped up, claws sinking through the soldier’s plated chest. Blood spurted and he died.

  An eagle the size of a Saint Bernard bolted from the fog. Its wings flapping, talons dark with blood, as it headed in the direction the laser had come from.

  Strong arms seized me. I struggled against the person’s hold, but it wasn’t any use. They were much bigger than me, and I hadn’t been paying enough attention. The cold, metal barrel of one of those guns kissed my temple, and I ceased my flailing, fairly confident a bullet to the brain would actually kill me.

  “Orders were to kill you on sight, girl. But now that I’ve seen you, I don’t know if I want to follow through,” a male voice hissed. Hot, garlicky breath wafted over my shoulders. “I kinda want to have some fun first.” He pressed his teeth to my neck and bit down. Panic white-washed my mind of all thought as I kicked back, trying to connect with something, anything.

  You’re never defenseless, my friends screamed, breaking through the barrier I’d thrown up in my head. Power flooded my body in a torrent. I flicked an arm to the side, my best attempt at a cross-body punch and shockingly, an arm of water shot out behind me, smacking my attacker right in the head, sending him reeling to the street and into the water. Enraged, I pulled the water tight around him, a cocoon wrapping tighter and tighter.

  He screamed as the vice crushed his bones.

  I turned away before he died, blood pouring from eyes, nose, and mouth.

  Four.

  Something dark and scaly raced in front of me, an extra set of arms extended as it ripped out the throat of a soldier I’d missed in the darkness. The thing tipped back its head in a howl, blue eyes blazing. It spared me a glance before streaking off in search of more victims.

  I tore through the fog. Fog that I’d initially been thankful for now obscured my view of the fight. Every now and then I saw soldiers firing weapons. Once, a pair of gremlin-like creatures darted out, ears flapping wildly as they charged down a soldier who’d popped up behind me. Purple magic flashed and sticky webs flew, cutting off the man’s yell for help.

  A bright green laser flashed through the swirling smoke, barely missing my leg.

  I needed to see.

  I crouched and dipped my hands in the pool of water, encouraging it to swirl underneath me. It knew what I wanted to do and worked itself in a waterspout capable of holding my weight. When I was comfortable with the feel of water swirling around my knees and feet, I ordered it up, way up, above the smoke and haze that I assumed meant Ryder was OK.

  From above, I could see the true extent of the chaos. Flashing blue and red lights surrounded the black cloud spanning about half a block in front of the hotel. First responders curved along the sidelines, guns in hands but clearly unsure about what was happening. Finn was charging at one cannon as another shot beams that merely bounced off his scraggly hair. Without missing a beat, he morphed into a black tiger with grey stripes and swiped at the cannon, knocking it on its side and smashing the barrel.

  I hadn’t known he could do that.

  At his back, a fey with spiked hair that still appeared remarkably human batted a few remaining soldiers away with blasts of golden magic that shot from her hands. A pouch at her side glowed with each blow. One of the soldiers managed to get a shot off before he fell and she crumpled with a whimper.

  Ryder darted into the sunlight at one point, one of the soldier’s guns in his hands, firing into the haze at members of the Order trapped inside. Red light glowed at his wrists, but I couldn’t tell what it was.

  People were starting to notice me on my waterspout, hovering high above the action. Fingers pointed and cell phone cameras flashed as I tried to think. I couldn’t tell how many members of the Order remained, making it
difficult to tell what I could do on the ground.

  But something nagged at me.

  I was forgetting something.

  A chatter of gunfire sounded from my right and I spun the waterspout around, dancing a bit as the water sucked at me, barely holding me in place. The helicopter. I’d forgotten about the freaking helicopter. Ice coated my skin as I faced the angry black military buzzard. I smashed my hands together and webbed my fingers, ejected the stream water out from my body toward the machinery. My body bowing at the effort it took to direct and magnify the power.

  The chopper jerked hard to the right, the gunner never letting up. Water sprayed as bullets hit my spinning tower. Thinking fast, I threw up a wall of water. Somehow it worked as enough of a buffer, stopping the bullets before they hit me. It fell away as the helicopter buzzed past and I swiveled around, calling the water to me again, forming two hands reaching from the dark mists below, watery extensions of my own body.

  I swung one of the arms at the body of the chopper, satisfied when it rocked on impact. Not enough force, yet. I swung out again, trying to make the water flow faster so it felt harder. The chopper rocked to the side but it was heading toward me once again

  An idea came.

  A stupid idea. But I was out of other ones.

  It might work.

  My element swirled close to me, a bodysuit of water drenching my clothes and my hair, forming a protective curtain of liquid and energy. I crouched on one knee, Iron Man style, unflinching as the gun swung around once again. I needed to wait for the right moment. Bullets spattered the tower of water beneath me, coming dangerously close to shredding blood and bone.

  A little closer.

  My breathing slowed to nothing as the open side of the chopper passed. Something punched my stomach, but I was already in motion, the water propelling me into the body of the helicopter. I skittered over the metal floor and slammed into the opposite wall, barely keeping myself from flying back out the opposite side. My actions caught the men by surprise. The one not manning the gun or flying the contraption scrambled to bring his weapon up in time.