Fan the Flame

by September Thomas

  “Alright, Geoffrey.” I held up my arms, my sleeves falling down and exposing my wrists.

  His smile slipped, eyes narrowing as they moved from me to the other Gods to the elf reaching for my arm. He opened his mouth. “Wait, don’t—”

  “Sorry about this,” I said and snapped out with a long tendril of water that wrapped around the woman’s neck, slamming her to the ground. The handcuffs skittered away as the other fey drew their swords. Joseph raced past me, a blast of air throwing the elf holding our friends hostage backward as he jumped on one of his handy panes of air.

  “Get Geoffrey,” I screamed at Pyra, not daring to take my eyes off the foe I didn’t know or understand. “I’ll get these guys.”

  “Way past you, hombre.” The Fire God unleashed a volley of flame at the Hand who countered with a shield of air. It wasn’t as strong as Joseph’s, but the barrier gave him enough time to duck out of the way before it shattered. Delighted laughter ripped from Pyra’s lungs as she darted forward.

  The earth quaked and I steadied myself. One glance at Oron crouched on the ground, a wall of earth rising up before him, and I realized he was already deviating from the plan as he attempted to nullify the threat of the other Order soldiers. The elves circled me, faces eerily blank as if they’d prepared for this moment all their lives.

  “I’ll bring down the towers,” Joseph yelled, realizing what I had. As he rocketed away, a dark figure swooped low overhead, bat wings spread wide as dark mists shot toward the Order soldiers on the perimeter, their nightmarish shrieks rose above the shaking of the earth.

  Ryder.

  I’d watched him for a moment too long and nearly missed the swoops of three swords closing in on me. The ice of my sword rang out as I countered two and dropped to my knees to dodge the third.

  Don’t engage them, Kaleal yelled. As I straightened, a second sword spilled into my free hand as I swung wildly, countering the quick parries and jabs of the elves. You don’t understand what they can do. If you use your magic—

  A little busy here, Kaleal, I screamed back, the sweep of a blade zinging past my ear kicked my pulse into hyper speed. They were so much faster than Rose had ever been in training. Furiously, I shoved Kaleal back in the recesses of my mind, throwing up walls and magic and barriers to hold her back until I couldn’t hear her shrieks of outrage.

  “You want me?” I hollered when one of my swords shattered under the onslaught. “Then you’ll have to take me at my worst.”

  A cyclone of water spun up around us, knocking the elves off their feet, then immediately froze it, locking them into place. As they struggled on the ground, a fireball erupted ahead of me and I started toward it. I didn’t want to kill these guys, not unless I had to, and Geoffrey was the primary concern—

  “Not so fast.”

  I tripped, a quick tuck and roll preventing me from face-planting. On the ground, I whirled, confused when I spotted the whip of my water retreating toward the fourth fey—the one I’d knocked out when I’d whipped her to the ground. “We’re far from done, Godling.”

  She clenched her fist, drawing a spinning wall of water around her feet. Her smile grew. “Did you not know what we can do?” At my back, ice splintered and cracked. The frost on the grass around my fingers melted away. “We’re magical mimics.” I gritted my teeth and my head spun as she clenched her fist, the water around her weaving into the elegant shape of the dragon that had taken me weeks to perfect. “I’d never sampled the power of the Gods before. It’s simply decadent. Thank you.”

  The dragon attacked.

  The world blurred as I reacted blindly, spinning up water and ice in a frenzy, doing all that I could to stay alive. My breath burst harshly from my lungs as I spun and swirled, freezing and thawing and boiling in intervals as I worked from one opponent to the next. Their instantaneous mastery of my element was as equally awe-inspiring as it was infuriating.

  I leaped on a sheet of ice when the puddle of water around my feet rose to boiling and flung hundreds of icy darts at my attacker while simultaneously drawing a whip of water to smack back the other three closing in.

  “You’re good,” the first fey cried. “But you lack creativity.”

  Through the fog I saw her slash her bicep, then draw the blood out in long, stringy ropes. My stomach churned as I knelt in the grass, panting. Blood was made of water, but after reading about a Water God who specialized in using it as a torture technique thousands of years ago, I’d vowed to never draw it into my repertoire.

  The sky over her head exploded. At least one of the towers had crumbled.

  “Blood is better than the most powerful river any day,” she said, flinging long spikes of scarlet ice at me. One sliced a long gash in my thigh and I felt the power surge in my own veins. Her throws were more accurate, her creations more precise. In defense, I threw up yet another icy barrier while simultaneously setting my stance in a vicious clash of swords.

  I considered using fire but didn’t dare call it forward. To do so was a death wish. It would add another powerful tool to their already incredible arsenal.

  One of the elves went flying when a horse the size of a tank shot through the fog. Finn whinnied, rearing back, his hooves flying as he kicked another one of them in the face. Overhead, someone whooped and whistled, but I didn’t have time to watch as the woman snarled and increased her flurry of attacks. It was getting more difficult to keep up, her icy blade somehow heavier and stronger than mine, her footwork a hair quicker.

  I screamed when I missed a block and her sword bit deep into my upper arm, driving me to my knees. My blade melted as I scrambled back, ignoring the roaring pain, trying to get away as she advanced, her movements rife with triumph. I didn’t know where Finn had gone and for some reason, the dregs of my water magic evaded me. My defenses were gone.

  I threw up a hand when she thrust, aiming for my chest. Out of nowhere, a blur dropped from the skies and ripped the woman right off the ground. Her eyes went wide as the green-skinned fey slashed her throat with a tiny, black dagger, then dropped her to the ground in front of me. The light in the elf’s eyes died as I stared, trembling with adrenaline.

  Rose slammed beside the body and spat. “I hate elves. Hate ‘em with a fiery passion tantamount to your flaming friend over there.” She shot her thumb at the inferno I now noticed. “But you’re alright, yeah? No life-threatening injuries?”

  I shook my head, numb and in shock at yet another near-death experience, and she drew me to my feet with a pat. I couldn’t stop staring at the elf, at the blood soaking the ground around her. Other pixies descended, engaging the remaining two elves in a dangerous dance of black magic and weapons. Rose’s cornrows snapped, one of the braids catching me in the cheek as she shook me.

  “Wake up, Zara,” she yelled. “It’s another dead body. That’s it. You have bigger things to do.”

  A scream ripped through the fog, receding now that the clash of elementals had drawn to a halt. The fire magic raging inside me drew taut.

  Pyra.

  I knocked Rose aside as the Fire God toppled, her body smoking as it hit the dirt. Beyond her, a figure raced for the tower, the chaos that was his particular blend of elemental magic whirling hot and bright around him.

  “Get him,” Rose yelled needlessly as I took off, stopping to scoop up one of the handcuffs the elves had dropped. Pyra’s tiny frame was peppered with cuts and bruises and burns as I slid to a halt, pulling her into my lap. Her mouth gaped, her glassy eyes wide as she pressed her hand to a gaping wound in her side. I forced what little water magic I had left into healing her, my worry only abating when her tightly strung body relaxed as the injury sealed over.

  She struggled when her strength returned but didn’t try to stand.

  She was drained.

  “He’s a crafty one,” she said. “I only hope I wore him down enough.”

  Chapter 34

  I hovered at the entrance, eyes adjusting to the lack of light, scanning the foyer of
the tower. It was nearly empty, save for a row of chairs along the back wall. Everything was still, silent, cryptically cool. Then, to my left, a rock cracked on the stone of a narrow staircase. My legs were already moving when as sent my magic out, sensing Geoffrey’s in return.

  The passageway was narrow and without landings, so I threw my entire focus on staying upright as I wove higher and higher. Only once did I risk a glance out one of the archer-cut windows at the smoking and bloodied grounds far below, but didn’t stop to think about who may be alive or dead. I had to keep going. I didn’t want Geoffrey to have too much time to plan his counterattack.

  Faster, Kaleal pushed. Harder.

  Around and around I went, my breath coming in short bursts, my fire magic pulsing hard in my neck and wrists, building for a release I couldn’t be sure I’d have the strength to contain.

  I stopped abruptly when my foot smacked the last step, surveying the wide room from the doorway cut into one corner. Geoffrey stood across from me, hands cupped around the tall back of a chair. His magic swirled manically around him, and I again wondered how he didn’t register the chaos. Or maybe he could and that was what finally tipped him over the edge.

  The scarred half of his lips twitched in what might have been a smirk as I pressed my hand to my chest, struggling to draw oxygen. The chair he stood behind was one of two dozen running the length of an empty, iron table. The other three corners of the room were composed of floor-to-ceiling, stained glass windows: mosaics of reds, golds, greens, and blues. The walls surrounding us were carved from obsidian and deeply scarred with large inlets.

  I edged closer to the wall at my left, keeping a close eye on Geoffrey who seemed to crave my reaction, and ran a hand over the smooth carving, ignoring the ache in my arm. I’d only had enough power left to stem the bleeding. It took me a minute to understand what I was seeing, and when I finally made sense of it all, I clicked my lighter. Flames spilled across the bottom of the inner part of the wall, revealing the arrow that underscored the gust of Air’s wind brand.

  “This was a room where the Council used to meet with the Gods and discuss battle plans, draw treaties, and generally congregate. Flames enchanted to never go out burned in the walls. All of them.” Geoffrey motioned at the other walls where I could now make out the other elemental symbols cut into them. “They were quite pretty.”

  He paused, taking in the room himself as if seeing it for the first time.

  “I had them doused.”

  He’s an insult to the entire Order, Kaleal snarled in disgust, wispy fingers curling into claws. He’s degraded everything this institution stood for, a religion created in my name.

  The flames vanished and I ground my teeth together.

  “This ends today, Geoffrey,” I said, steady as the ground beneath my feet. Flames flickered up my arms with renewed strength. “You’ve taken and you’ve taken and you’ve taken, but enough is enough. You’ve destroyed so much of my life, the lives of the other Gods, the lives of those who depended on them, I won’t let you wreck them any longer.”

  Flames black as oil spilled from his palms in response, a mutated version of my own fiery abilities. He possessed powers roughly the quarter the strength of each of our own, and I could tell because the fire lacked my intensity. However, I wasn’t sure how his twisted, cruel mind could change things in his favor.

  “You’re right,” he said. “This does end today.”

  We released our inner infernos simultaneously. My orange fire met his black in a combustion that rattled the room. I went flying. My head cracked against the wall. I shook away the dizziness as flame and smoke and fury raged around me.

  Geoffrey had fallen too, his body bent awkwardly where his elbow hooked in the bottom of one of the mountain’s valleys, holding himself upright. His cheek bled where a sliver of the demolished table had slashed it. I launched another volley of flames, my spirits rising when one hit him and he screamed.

  I raced forward, flames pouring from my palms, when a sharp piece of the table flew at my head. It sliced my neck when I threw myself sideways, but I didn’t stop my onslaught. The flames filling the chamber burned with sweltering heat. I remembered watching another inferno, the one that destroyed my parents, and my entire body went cold. I choked back a sob as I remembered Kaz, my best friend, dead at Geoffrey’s hands. My teammates, my life, all gone.

  All because of him.

  Don’t stop, ordered Kaleal, clinging to the edges of my vision. Keep going.

  I threw everything I had into my blaze, the roaring heat stifling as I forced it out, not sure if Geoffrey still lived. I couldn’t stop, my rage and pain finally unleashed, too great to be tamed. I allowed it to burn, to fester, to cleanse. And finally, when I was certain nothing remained, I tapered it off.

  I gaped at what I’d done.

  The walls were blackened, the colorful, glassy stones once contained inside the walls reduced to ash. The wooden chairs were gone and most of the table had liquified.

  Geoffrey was nowhere to be found. Not even a charred chunk of bone remained.

  I spun in a slow circle, dazed, and more than a little wary.

  Was that it? Was it truly over?

  A whisper of shoes in the stairwell was the only thing that saved me from being run through. I threw myself to the ground as Geoffrey charged past, a jagged chunk of the table held in his hands like a spear. His bi-colored eyes were wild when he turned back to me, tapping the makeshift weapon on his bloodied palm. His clothing was charred, parts of his skin shiny with fresh blisters. I’d hurt him, but he was still very much alive.

  I backed up until I hit one of the corner windows, drawing the blue blade from my thigh as I went. I’d used up most of my magic in the attack, but Rose had trained me well.

  Kaleal had gone silent, though I sensed her watching.

  “That was impressive, Zara,” Geoffrey said. I hated how he said my name. I hated his very existence. But when I opened my mouth, to respond. I stopped. My head felt light on my shoulders, my vision wavering. Why did I feel so faint? The battle couldn’t have taken that much of a toll. Fighting Phenex had been more difficult.

  I shook my head savagely to clear it while breathing deeply to force more oxygen into my veins. Geoffrey inched closer and I gripped my knife harder, thrusting at him threateningly.

  “In another life, you may have beaten me,” he said, his tone pitying.

  I blinked, his words reminding me faintly of something Phenex had said. Why couldn’t I remember what he’d said? I drew in another shuddering breath, suddenly nauseous. Black spots flickered in the edges of my vision.

  Why did I feel so sick?

  I blinked again, jerking back when I realized Geoffrey had moved closer without me even realizing it. What was going on? My mouth went dry. Violent coughs rattled my chest. I couldn’t feel Kaleal anymore. I was barely connected to my body. The dagger slipped from my fingers and hit the ground with a clatter. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  I couldn’t remember why holding it was so important.

  My knees locked and I slipped down the stained glass window. I struggled for my magic, struggled to move, struggled to feel, but my limbs were made of lead.

  Geoffrey knelt beside me, the wild light of his eyes extinguished as he surveyed me. Air rattled into my chest, the motion pitching me sideways, and something metallic fell out of my pocket with a rattle, bumping against my limp hand.

  He rested the staff across his thighs and brushed some of my silvery hair, now stained with dirt and blood, out of my face. My skin would have surely crawled if I could have felt it.

  “It will be over soon,” he whispered. “And you fought so valiantly. It’s almost too bad it has to end like this.”

  The air, I realized, the air was toxic. A memory tingled to life, an itch needing to be scratched. Joseph had told me once that he pressed oxygen together to form his panes of glass, but to do so, he had to pull oxygen from the surrounding area. My lightheadedness, the difficu
lty breathing. If Joseph could pull oxygen from the air, then surely Geoffrey could increase it, too.

  He was literally poisoning me.

  The jagged edge of the spear pressed against my chest, right below my collarbone. I closed my eyes against the hate reflected in Geoffrey’s. I didn’t want to die like this. Well, I didn’t want to die at all. But I especially didn’t want to die alone, at the hands of my one, true enemy.

  You’re not alone. Kaleal finally forced her way through the gaze. Her words made me jerk, a strange surge of energy coursing through me. My hand fell on the lighter I’d dropped. I recognized its shape.

  “With you gone, the other Gods will be easy enough to pick off,” Geoffrey was saying.

  You’re not alone! Kaleal yelled, the force of her voice giving me enough strength to push past the dizziness, to think. Too much oxygen… I remembered something about the high density of oxygen from school. My thumb slipped on the trigger of the lighter and I painstakingly moved it back.

  YOU’RE NOT ALONE, she roared.

  The staff descended as my thumb finally found purchase, and I depressed the switch.

  I flew back as the world exploded.

  Chapter 35

  There comes a moment, one crystalline clear moment that comes with falling where the body is suspended in midair, waiting for gravity to catch up and bring it crashing back down. The world becomes almost painfully clear, more in focus than ever before.

  That’s what I experienced as my body launched out the shattered window, thrown with the force of the explosion. Shards of glass rained down with me as gravity finally took hold. Below was a battlefield packed with friends and foe. In a blink, I saw my triumphs and my losses reflected in painful clarity. I saw my fears fly and my dreams recede. For one moment I was only me.

  A girl pushed to the edges of her limits.