Elemental Havoc (Paranormal Public Book 11)

by Maddy Edwards

  “What’s the point of studying so much when there are monsters out there trying to kill us?” asked a fallen angel sophomore who had overheard us. He was a boy with ice-white hair and a sour expression whom I remembered seeing on the first night. Even in this crowd his hair stood out; it was as white as Sip’s. I had taken an instant dislike to him, which was odd, because the fallen angels were supposed to be some of Sip’s closest allies. “What’s the point of building buildings that they’re just going to burn down eventually?”

  For a few minutes we just watched people mill around. I was interested to see who came and went and where they sat. After a while, Keegan and Eighellie went to sit down and Charlotte came back to stand next to me, looking very pleased with the turnout.

  The massive cracks made in the marble floor of the hall during the Nocturn War had been repaired, and the swirls were now perfect, icy blue mixed in with a vibrant gray. This was the sword hall, so named for dream givers’ sharp minds.

  “Who told you that?” Charlotte asked, frowning. “I’ve never heard that.”

  “Lough,” I said.

  She smiled. “I should have known.”

  My sister was wearing long, dark robes, and I could see no hint of a baby bump. She had said that she wasn’t planning on announcing her pregnancy right away, or telling anyone but her closest friends. Her robes would conceal her for the most part anyhow, since they were large and loose, but she had also said that if it got to the point where they couldn’t hide the evidence any more, she would merely take some time off from teaching. Dobrov was in on her secret, so she wasn’t worried about not teaching her classes, she was just looking ahead to the test at the end of the year and fretting over her students, about whom she talked as if they were her little ducklings.

  “They’ll be fine,” I had reassured her. She only taught seniors, after all. In other circumstances she might have taught elementals, but since I was the only elemental alive to be taught, and we had both agreed that her being my teacher was a terrible idea, akin to forcing Dacer to wear only one color for the rest of his life, we both knew we would be spared that ordeal. On the bright side, she had a small group of intelligent and dedicated students, and that made all of us feel better.

  “Who is that?” I asked. Marching down the center of the hallway was a woman in a black wool skirt and black stockings, one of which hung lower than the other, a black blazer, and a stiffly pressed white shirt. She wore glasses and small birdcage earrings, but no other jewelry.

  President Sipythia Quest had once expressed surprised that I noticed jewelry on paranormal women, and I had merely told her that growing up with an older sister you learn a thing or two.

  “My brothers grew up with a sister, and they learned nothing,” Sip had said with some bitterness.

  “Maybe the problem is that werewolves are thick-headed,” Lisabelle offered.

  “Thick-headed, but also violent,” said Sip, glaring.

  I was brought back from that memory by Charlotte’s answer to my question about the paranormal who was coming down the aisle. “That’s an assistant scheduling coordinator. Lotus Correine,” she said.

  Lotus Correine marched as if to the beat of a silent drum. She was slow and deliberate, with her shoulders not swinging with her arms in a normal way.

  “She looks . . . stuffy,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Charlotte, “so be really nice or she’ll be worse.”

  “I’m not going to have to talk to her, am I?” I asked.

  “She’s walking right toward us; what do you think?” Charlotte asked.

  “Can I run?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, can you?” said Charlotte.

  “Professor Rollins, I presume,” Lotus Correine said, stopping in front of us and pursing her lips as if she was disappointed. While Charlotte and I had argued, she had made it all the way down the aisle. “May I have a word in private? I don’t like to speak too candidly in front of children.”

  Charlotte gave an amused smile and nodded. I rolled my eyes and wandered off.

  Not yet ready to join Eighellie and Keegan, I wandered around the hall. I saw Professor Penny and Charlotte’s secretary, Luther, plus many students, including Averett. I saw Professor Heather talking to someone who at first I didn’t recognize, but then realized was the militia man who had creeped me out on our way into Surround. What interest she might have in these lectures, I had no idea. There were no pixies. When I saw that Charlotte was free again I returned to her side.

  “Pretty soon we’ll have to start,” said Charlotte. “Are you going to join your friends?”

  “Yeah, Keegan will be wondering where I’ve got to,” I said, glancing at the double doors.

  “It’s so great that you two are friends,” she said.

  “So, you think so too,” I muttered. I did like Keegan, and it was true that I felt a shared bond with him. But sometimes the kid got on my nerves. Then again, if I looked at some of the friendships around me, maybe I had to accept the fact that the best of friends always got on each other’s nerves at times.

  With that thought, I went to sit with my friends and listen to the first installment of my sister’s lecture series.

  Judge Yeast wasn’t what I expected. She was youngish, probably in her thirties, her hair just going gray in small streaks. Her hair just swept her shoulders, and she clipped half of it back from her face, which was round and almost kind-looking. When she smiled she showed a face full of very white teeth. Though she was small in statue, her voice carried. I had the impression that as a judge she was used to being listened to.

  Charlotte made the introduction as Judge Yeast sat waiting patiently. Little murmurs went up among the students when Charlotte walked up and introduced herself as an elemental. She wasn’t often seen, but she was known far and wide. I found myself smiling, proud of my sister’s accomplishments.

  “Judge Gray Yeast is known for her long experience and fair-handed ways,” said Charlotte. “She is three fourths fallen angel and one fourth dream giver, a combination has that given her a particular blend of kindness and empathy, qualities that all who enter her courtroom appreciate. Judge Yeast has served the first district for the last eight years, since her appointment from the fifth. As many of you know, the lower the number of the district, the higher the judge’s role is in importance. Judge Yeast is sought after by lawyers, as they always know they can get a fair trial in her courtroom.”

  It was my sister who was saying all of this, but it confused me. Judge Yeast was Sip’s most vocal opposition leader. We didn’t like her, and here was Charlotte singing her praises.

  “JUDGE YEAST FOR PARANORMAL PRESIDENT!!” someone in the crowd yelled out. I turned my head to see who was speaking, but whoever it was had already sat down.

  Charlotte didn’t even falter, except to murmur that all viewpoints were accepted at the lecture series. Then she continued, “Judge Yeast is an expert in many fields. Having achieved two masters degrees and a PhD in economics, she has now turned her attention to politics and the question of the Counter Wheel, those artifacts that are thought to be all-powerful counters to the Wheel I know well – and which are missing. Without further ado, Judge Yeast.” Everyone clapped politely as Charlotte stepped aside. My sister looked a little ashen, but not so obviously that I thought anyone but me would notice.

  Judge Yeast plunged right in: “I realize that you all expect me to make a political speech tonight, and believe me, it’s been on my mind, especially since I am visiting a hotbed of support for my competition.” I could have imagined it, but I thought her eyes skirted for the briefest of moments to Charlotte. “In any event,” Yeast continued, “I am not here to make a political argument or statement. I am not here to take down any specific party, not even a specific werewolf whose foolish actions and rash rush to judgments surely deserve it.”

  I desperately wanted to look at Charlotte to see how she was taking all of this, but I didn’t dare. Anyhow, she had become adept in the pas
t few years at keeping her face a mask, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell even if I did glance her way.

  “I am actually here to discuss one artifact in particular in great detail, the magnum opus, if you will,” Yeast said with a smile, as if just the thought of the object set her brain matter on fire. Next to me I knew Eighellie was fighting not to roll her eyes.

  Yeast now actually did set the politics aside, holding up the picture of an object and explaining, “This is the ancient artifact known as the Golden Rod. This rod was thought to have been seen many times. In fact, what led to the recent discovery that it was a fake is its unearthing yet again. For many years the true Golden Rod, authenticated by experts two generations ago, was thought to reside in a small museum in Sweden. However, when another Golden Rod was unearthed during excavations in . . . Canada, it was understood that the authentication process needed to be started yet again. What we learned from extensive testing and research is that neither of the supposed Golden Rods are in fact the real Golden Rod. We have been duped. Specifically, the Swedish were duped.” She paused for a moment to shake her head. She had put on a pair of half moon spectacles for the occasion, and they made her look even more like a librarian, though not one I ever wanted to borrow a book from.

  I sat forward and squinted, like most of the rest of the hall, trying to see the picture. The rod was a deep warm gold, like the sun at dusk. It glimmered in the light and I rather thought one end was the tiniest bit thicker than the other.

  “Can anyone tell me how long it has apparently been since the real Golden Rod was seen?”

  No one raised a hand, even to make a guess.

  “Exactly,” said Judge Yeast with relish.

  I was staring hard at the woman who was standing up at the podium. She couldn’t possibly know about the witch beneath Dacer’s castle – or could she? Whenever she looked at me I flinched involuntarily, until it got so noticeable that Charlotte put her hand on my arm to stop me. I stopped, but it was a forced calm.

  “The Golden Rod is all-powerful,” Yeast went on. “It is considered to be the first orb, the first wand, and the last line of magic that will ever exist. All other artifacts will fall and break, but the Golden Rod will shine on. Or so the story goes. With the rise of the Hunters, there is now a determined group of paranormals looking for a mode of power, something to set them apart. When the Nocturns battled the paranormals, they tried to break the Power of Five. Had they succeeded we would not be standing here today. They failed due to the quick thinking and hard work of government officials. Paranormals today are not slaves, only because of the power of a select few. Paranormals will not be so quickly run over.” She smiled out at the crowd, who were listening with glazed looks. I couldn’t tell if they felt rapture or apathy. Mostly I just felt fear.

  “Hunters are perfecting their technique. They have sources we can’t dream of and a hiding place no one has yet found. How have they managed all of this? Right under the nose of the Quest government,” she said. A smile sliced across her mouth as she added, “Okay, so I suppose I cannot avoid politics entirely.”

  The room shifted and I felt more eyes turn toward Charlotte, who continued to sit placidly, her hands crossed gently in her lap. No trace of annoyance showed on her face, at least to the untrained eye, but I knew better. I was her little brother, and I had spent years practicing how to annoy her as much as possible, so I knew the signs. Her eyes were slightly closed and her mouth was parted, and I could tell she was trying to breathe through her anger and failing.

  “I don’t like her,” I said afterwards.

  “She has a presence about her,” said Charlotte.

  I glared at her. “Aren’t you on Sip’s side? When it comes time for elections, who are you going to vote for anyway?”

  Charlotte laughed. “I may vote for Sip, but she’ll have to earn it. I suppose since you don’t like her, you don’t want to go to dinner with us?”

  “Oh, that sounds amazing,” said Eighellie. “I would do anything to go!”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said. “I think I’ve had enough fun for one evening.” I glared at the bouncy ball to my right, the very picture of achievement, her eyes burning brightly as she stared at Charlotte. My sister had noticed, and she tried to hide a smile by turning her head in the other direction. But I saw it. My sister always liked annoying girls like Eighellie!

  “We’ll get our own dinner,” I said. Eighellie frowned but didn’t contradict me. I could see that underneath the excitement she was still shy around my famous sister.

  “Together?” that sister asked slyly.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here, before she asks something embarrassing,” said Keegan.

  “It was good to see you two and to meet you, Eighellie,” said Charlotte, grinning evilly.

  “You’d think she would remember what it was like,” Keegan huffed.

  “Pretty sure the problem is that she does,” I said. My sister liked mischief. It wasn’t as obvious as it was with Sip, and the werewolf’s love of trouble had been tamed slightly by her ascension to presidency, but still, my sister liked to cause trouble, which was partly why I’d had the good sense not to introduce her to any girls before. Okay, I hadn’t known any girls before, but still, I could tell that now that I had, she was tickled to have the opportunity to tease us.

  Keegan groaned. “Yeah, she seems like the type. Good thing I never had a sister.”

  “You don’t want a sister because you think she’d meddle?”

  “Course she’d meddle, she’d be a sister,” said Keegan. “That’s like, part of their makeup or something. It doesn’t go away when they get haircuts.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The second lecture was to be given that evening by Professor Fussfus, who was an expert on the artifacts that the Hunters had gathered and still sought to gather, including, but by no means limited to, the Counter Wheel. Eighellie, who had disappeared between lectures, came back looking angry.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, I went into town to buy some cream,” she said. “I mean, the Public store has such things and the school supplies another kind too, but . . .”

  “Neither is good enough for you,” Keegan interrupted.

  “Something like that. I like what I like and I’m not sorry about it. From now on I’m going to make my own creams, though,” said Eighellie with feeling. “ANYWAY, I went into Surround thinking they might have more options, and they refused to sell me anything! Not only that, but the clerk was rude! I don’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t easy getting back onto campus, either. The TP kept asking me questions about why I had left and what business I had in Surround, just as if I was some sort of nefarious criminal.”

  “You are a nefarious criminal,” Keegan pointed out. “Don’t be upset when paranormals figure it out.”

  “I’m not a criminal yet,” said Eighellie. “I just have criminal intent.”

  “Ah, yes, that’s all very different,” said Keegan. “Anyway, you were treated badly.”

  “VERY badly,” she corrected him. “I didn’t know the hostility between the town and the school was so bad.”

  “Yeah, the townspeople feel like the school kids look down on them and don’t appreciate all their hard work. I told my mom as much and she said that’s how she feels as a parent every day, whatever that means.”

  “Lecture number two!” cried a voice from inside the hall, so we headed for our seats. The discussion of Surround would have to wait.

  Charlotte was again sitting in the front, but this time there was no sign of Judge Yeast. I figured she must not have thought it worth her while to stay. All my professors were there, though, including Penny, as was Charlotte’s secretary, who was quietly leaning over and speaking in her ear. There weren’t as many students as there had been for the afternoon lecture, but the space was still essentially full because there were more adults this time, sprinkled amongst the students and looking around curiously. I wondered exactly
what sort of expert Professor Fussfus was, but Charlotte was bound to tell us soon enough.

  “This is the youngest full professor in the paranormal world,” said Eighellie. “I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.”

  “I can’t wait to play video games,” said Keegan. “No offense to Charlotte,” he added, looking over at me.

  Charlotte returned to the lectern looking just as composed as she had in the afternoon. I knew she was really excited for the start of the series, but she was hiding it well, just as she had hidden her anger earlier. Her goal had been to retain some dignity throughout, and I thought she was succeeding nicely.

  “Good evening and thank you again for participating in the new speaker series. It’s always important to explore all points of view, and your attendance means a lot to me, especially those of you with homework.” She paused to allow the light chuckles. “Our second speaker is known far and wide. He made a name for himself when he was appointed the youngest professor of artifacts, indeed the only professor of artifacts, in the world. Although Professor Fussfus works primarily at Oracle University, he does sometimes give guest lectures like the one tonight. And without further ado . . .”

  Charlotte stepped aside to allow Professor Fussfus the stand. He was a thin, nervous-looking man, and his clothes were pressed so thoroughly that he himself seemed stiff.

  “Thank you, Ms. Rollins. I must say it’s such an honor to meet you after having heard so much about you. Your mastery of the Power of Five and the object on the Wheel . . . masterful.” He was looking at Charlotte and smiling. She gave a sort of awkward nod in return. After a moment, Professor Fussfus seemed to remember himself, and he returned his attention to his audience.

  “There is an underground network of paranormals who seek to dispose of all traces of darkness. These are fighters for light and for the greater good, but at some point their mission was lost. Along the way they decided to stop at nothing to decimate the true dark, thus becoming dark themselves. Without a premier to guide them, and with the evil purpose of possessing all the artifacts, a goal that, if achieved, would have given them ultimate power, they went down a path of murder and destruction.