by Blair Drake
What if he failed here?
What if he couldn't win the games and give the Yarlstone to Zora's people? What if he couldn't defeat Dameron?
He had magic, it seemed, but whom was he kidding? The ice seemed to come to his call when Elijah was in danger, but he was nowhere near mastering it. Dameron was over a century old, and, according to the Book of Eloa, he'd been a master mage. He'd burned cities with a thought, and destroyed Agramorh from over a hundred miles away, even as he fought Asphodel for control of the Yarlstone.
I can't do this.
Elijah's heart began rabbiting in his chest, and he heard the out of sync vibration of it, as though his own body was fighting against his magic. What were his other options though? To run away? To hide somewhere in the Nine Lands and live out his life here, as the world slowly died?
He wanted to go home, and to do that he needed to destroy Dameron, but he was too afraid to try.
Zora suddenly slammed to a halt, bringing the staff down in a sharp slashing movement, a curl tumbling forward over her eyes. She blew it out of the way with a huff of panting breath.
"Learn anything?" she demanded, stepping her feet together, and turning to face him.
Only that I'm a failure.
"Harry provided me with a summary of events, and the Book of Eloa gave me a little more. It's a little overwhelming." He stepped down, onto the training mats. "How are you feeling? It looks like your wounds have healed."
She lifted her tunic, revealing unblemished skin and a set of abs. If she dragged her tunic any higher, there'd be under boob. "It's as though I was never wounded."
Any thoughts of failure fled right out of his head.
Elijah couldn't stop himself from staring. She was the same height as Zoe, with the same shallow curves—which were the bane of Zoe's existence—but the difference lay in Zora's lean muscle mass, and the confident way she carried herself. Zoe ran track, so she was slim and lean, but Zora looked like she could punch her way through a wall.
She moved the same way Zoe wished she could move. Maybe Zoe had somehow caught a glimpse of Zora in her dreams, or heard the tale of Zora and decided this, this was who she wanted to be in her make-believe games.
He wished he could tell Zoe she was perfect as she was. Perfect for him anyway. That she, Zoe Miller, with her history books, and her dream board, armed with a sewing machine and a glue gun, was more than capable of taking on anything the world could throw at her.
"Eyes up here, mage," Zora said dryly, letting her tunic drop.
"Sorry, I wasn't checking you out." He scrubbed at his mouth. It was awkward. Zoe dumped him, but his feelings for her were complicated. And here was Zora, who looked like Zoe—who sort of was Zoe—according to Harry, but looking at her like that felt like cheating.
He was drawn to Zora, who kicked some serious ass, but lacked Zoe's warmth. But was he drawn to Zora, or was it because of Zoe he found his gaze lingering?
Could you even get in trouble for checking out your ex girlfriend's doppelgänger? He didn't consider himself crash hot on ethics, but this was a dilemma he felt would stump even Mr. Henderson, the one teacher he had who tended to think he knew everything about ethics.
Dear Reddit,
[17/M Advice needed from anyone who is not a Vampire Diaries fan]
What would you do if you were in love with your girlfriend, but you got dumped by her, and then somehow sent into a different world through a portal, and your girlfriend's alter ego was in that world?
Would you move on that? I mean, is she technically your girlfriend/ex girlfriend?
Asking for a friend.
"I was just thinking of the girl I know who looks like you," he admitted, because hell if he could work any of this out. Dating 101 just got owned. Dating 505 probably wasn't even going to cover this one.
Zoe II would probably kick me in the head anyway, but....
"So you're looking at me like that, but you're thinking of her?" Zora said incredulously.
"It's weird, okay." He threw his hands up in the air. "She kind of is you. Harry and I were talking about it. There's a possibility that there are as many Zora's out there as worlds...." He tried to explain, watching Zora's eyes get rounder and rounder.
"So you think I am your Zoe?" she finally said, her voice dripping with skepticism.
"No. You're not my Zoe. You're Orynthica's Zoe."
Zora crossed her arms over her chest. "Let us hope there is not a second Elijah walking around on Orynthica, because there is only a certain level of your foolishness I feel I could tolerate."
Boom. He winced. "That dude probably opened his mouth the wrong way one too many times already."
Zora rolled her eyes. "Thinking about this makes my head ache."
"Please." You're not the one with the ethical dilemma. "How about we pretend this entire conversation didn't happen?"
"Agreed." Zora tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "Want to spar with me? I need the workout."
"From what I saw, you already had one."
Zora gave him a slow look that said she wasn't quite sure how to take that, in the wake of their previous conversation.
I didn't mean it like.... argh.
"You sure you think you can handle me?" he asked, trying to steer this sinking ship to safer waters. "I'm warning you. I've got moves. I'm my team's starting Center. That means offense and defense, Princess Z."
"That makes no sense to me at all—and stop calling me 'princess'." A faint smile curled over her lips. "But please, Elijah, go easy on me. I've only been handling a staff since I was a child."
He probably deserved that.
She turned and strode toward the training rack against the wall.
Elijah rolled his shoulders, and then began to swing his arms to warm up. "So what has you hitting the mats so hard?"
"I don't hit the mats," she told him. "That would be stupid."
"No, I mean.... Why this sudden flurry of energy? In my world, sometimes when I have a problem and need to think my way through it, I hit a boxing bag. Or go for a run. You strike me as the type of girl who likes to pick up a sword—or a staff—when she has something on her mind."
Zora cocked a head thoughtfully. "Zandui thinks I should betray my chosen team of tributes and take you into the Ascension games with me." She picked up one of the wooden staffs. "He says I should convince the princess—the real princess—we'd have a chance to defeat the Pasternakians, as the princess won't listen to anyone else."
"The princess?"
"Princess Ismene of Thanasi. She rules both tribes of Ice Fang and Storm Shadow. I served as her bodyguard during training. Ismene sent me north to deliver a letter to the monks at the monastery when the troll attacked it. She'll be expecting me to return at any day for the tribute ceremony." Zora tossed him the staff. "She's my friend."
Elijah caught it. The balance felt off, but then he was used to his hockey stick. He spun it a few times, letting his hands learn the feel of it. "Harry thinks I should join the games and fight at your side."
"And you don't?"
"Let's just say, you're not the only one who thinks I don't belong on the team."
He spun the staff back behind him, and then twirled it in slow circles around to his side.
"You've used a staff before."
"Not like this. I play hockey at school. We wear ice skates, and use sticks to try and hit a ball through our opponents net." He shrugged. "I'm pretty good at it. I was hoping to go pro, but it depends on whether I get picked for a college team."
"Modest, too," Zora said, her wrists supple as she spun her staff in a perfect twirl. "Ready?"
"Maybe."
Her first strike met his staff. Elijah grinned at her over the line of the stick. Zora's eyes narrowed, and she hammered him with a pair of blows he barely blocked.
They broke apart, and Elijah tried to get a better grip as Zora circled him. Three strikes and he knew he was seriously outclassed.
"Just warming up," he promi
sed.
Zora's eyes narrowed, as though she wasn't sure whether he was being sarcastic or not.
The pair of staffs ricocheted as they met again, and he knew she was sounding him out. Elijah held his own for three more blows, before Zora began to move with a little more confidence. He stepped back, throwing the staff up to block her strike to his shoulder, but his staff met nothing but air as she twisted and brought her own down low in a feint.
The end of Zora's staff smashed across his ribs. No protective padding here. Elijah winced, and swung wildly, nearly taking her head off. Zora arched backward, her spine bending like a cat's, before she suddenly snapped upright.
The heat in her eyes blazed, but not with fury. She looked like she was enjoying this.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Elijah was forced backward across the mats, his breath starting to quicken. Every move he made was defensive. At least he didn't have to worry about pulling his blows. It was kind of nice not to be worried about his size for once. Zora parried him with ease, rapping the end of her staff against his thigh, when he knew she could have gone for the knee.
Elijah hopped on one leg, trying not to bite his tongue. Motherf—
"You are not injured, mage?" she asked, with a devious smile. "We can end this at any time. You just have to cry mercy."
Like hell.
Elijah slammed his staff against hers.
It felt good to hit something, even if he was getting hit more often than not. Zora danced around him, her staff whirling and it was all he could do not to earn a decent clip around the ears. But the frustration he'd been feeling was lost in the pulse of blood through his veins, and all of his worries were a forgotten thing. No time to think right now. It was move or die, judging by the way she drove the end of her staff directly toward his sternum.
Elijah's back hit the wall, and he managed to strike her blow aside at the last moment. He couldn't beat her. He wanted to. But she was too fast, too precise, and experienced.
The only advantage he had was his size and his strength.
So use it.
The next time their staffs met, he shoved her back. Zora staggered, her eyes widening for one brief second before she retaliated with a ripping combo that slipped under his guard. The end of her staff brushed against his chin so lightly, he knew he should have been seeing stars if she'd wanted to really hit him.
Elijah grinned, and began to hammer at her. For the first time, he got her on the defensive, forcing her back to the center of the room. Couldn't give her a chance to think. Keep her on the offense, and he might, just might, not get hit. Zora's smile faded, but he could tell she was enjoying this. Sweat dripped down his spine.
Zora's staff tapped the mats as he smashed it to the ground, and then their eyes met, and Elijah managed to snap his staff up just in time. Hers slammed against it, right between his legs. An inch more, and he'd have been begging for a timeout.
Or pondering if children would ever be in his future.
"Remind me not to seriously piss you off," he said, swallowing as she stepped back, allowing him to walk it out. The blow had never landed, but it had been close. He was pretty sure some phantom part of him had felt it.
Zora winked at him. "Mercy, Elijah. That's how this ends."
The staffs met one final time with a sharp, ricocheting crack. Then Zora feinted right and whipped hers behind the back of his ankle.
Elijah lost his balance, the staff, and the match, crashing to the floor. "Ow," he wheezed, staring up at the arching ceilings far ahead. I'm done. "Mercy," he cried, as she made to ram the end of her staff into his ribs.
It froze three inches from his body.
Zora stepped back abruptly, giving him a mischievous smile that made her look young and carefree for a second.
"Dude." The breath burst out of him. "Were you trying to kill me?"
"If I was trying to kill you, then you'd be dead."
"You do realize we were playing, right?"
Her brow furrowed. "You would not last a day in the training camps. We did not always have the option of crying 'mercy' which meant the bout ended when someone was unable to stand. I was being generous. This could have been over five minutes ago. Did you not understand that?"
Different worlds.
Elijah rested on his elbows. He wanted to make some smart quip, but he couldn't help wondering what a training camp had been like for a little girl.
"You're better than I thought you would be," Zora said, tucking her staff under her arm and circling him. "This 'hockey' gives you excellent coordination. And you are strong. With another five years of training, you might have been my match."
"Thanks," he drawled. Elijah pushed himself up onto his hands. "I have a question for you."
"Speak it." She squatted against the wall, resting the staff across her knees. "You've earned an answer, in the least."
"Why did you come with us into the mountains? What did Zandui say to make you travel so far out of your way, when you know you have to be back in time to be named tribute?"
Zora's lashes covered her eyes as she looked down. "Zandui said you were the one spoken of in the Book of Eloa. He said you would bring balance to the Current and restore the lands. I didn't want to believe it." She looked troubled. "But I could not turn my back on the possibility he was speaking the truth."
"For a secret book only Harry sees, a lot of people seem to know what's in it."
"At the end of every Turning Point, the Keeper receives a clue of what the clans should look for, when the next Turning Point is upon us. It's the only warning we shall get." Her lashes fluttered up, and her dark eyes locked upon him. Her voice softened, as if she repeated something she'd heard many times before, "He shall appear in a storm of nothingness, and drown that which is Ice. He shall wield Wind and Snow against the skies. You shall know him by the amulet he wears, a circle of gold. This is the next Catalyst. This is the mage who can restore balance to the Current. So it is spoken. So it shall be." Zora sighed. "You're not what I expected, but I must concede you drowned a troll. An ice troll. I always wondered how one could drown ice. And how do you wield wind against the skies? I assume that meant the wyverns."
"It kind of weirds me out to know there's a prophecy about me." He drew his bent knees up to his chest and hesitated. He desperately wanted to talk to someone, and despite the fact he got his ass handed to him, there was a newfound sense of camaraderie between them. "When I came through the Well of Sorrows, I saw something. I saw Asphodel."
Zora stiffened.
"How?" Zora pushed to her feet. "What did she say? Was it a ghost? A wraith?"
He could sense the camaraderie ship sinking fast.
"I don't know. She said she and Dameron didn't die when the Yarlstone recoiled against them. It obliterated their bodies, and she trapped their souls within it. Now Dameron's trying to come back, and he's leeching magic from the world in order to do so. That's why the lands are dying. That's why the Wells are fading. He's sucking the power out of everything in order to manifest."
"Why did you not say something in the cellars?" she demanded. "This is a terrible thing, Elijah. If Dameron comes back, with a body made purely of magic, then how will we kill him?" She raked her hands through her hair. "He'll destroy the Nine Lands. He'll kill all those who stand against him, and burn the remaining cities to ash."
"Burn them?"
"He was a mage, curse your ignorance! A mage king of unimaginable power. Only a mage can touch the Yarlstone. Only a mage can wield it, if it doesn't drive them mad! Dameron had the gift of Fire, and he was the last mage who could handle its power."
Fire. Against Ice.
Fire and ice shall forge the pressure needed....
Dameron must be the fire the book spoke of.
A tremor trickled down his spine. He kept thinking there was some way out of this, that he wasn't the one destined to stand against Dameron, but the coincidences kept piling up.
"Argh!" Zora tossed the staff on the floor with a clatter and
whirled toward the door. "I have to tell Zandui. We have to pack. I'd hoped we'd get at least one night's rest here, but this changes everything. I need to bend knee before Princess Ismene and be named to Clan Storm Shadow's team of tributes. We don't have a minute to spare, if Dameron is trying to use the Yarlstone and the Current to come back."
He hurried after her. "Zora, wait."
"No!" she cried, turning and shoving him in the chest. Her eyes glittered with rage. "Why did you keep such a thing to yourself?"
"Because you were all keeping secrets from me!" he yelled back, suddenly angry. "I don't know what's going on. I didn't know there was a Turning Point, or that I was a Catalyst. I just knew I was the enemy, according to all of you.
"You ask for trust?" Elijah demanded. "Then it starts with you showing me some damned trust." He held his hands up in fists, the wrists locked together. "I spent two full days tied up, Zora, before you'd even let me loose. If you suspected I was this Catalyst, then why the ropes? Why treat me as an enemy?"
Zora drew back from him, her mouth working, but no words spilling forth.
"I'll tell you why," he snarled, pushing past her, their shoulders brushing. "It wasn't because I have the powers of a mage. You wanted to use me for your games, didn't you? You wanted to hurl me against your enemy, no matter whether I walked out of it alive, just as long as your precious balance was evened out. Zandui's the only one who spoke to me as if I was a person. All you and Yeorfac saw was an enemy you might be able to wield."
Shoving past, he stormed along the hallway to the rooms Harry had offered him.
So much for working off his frustration.
Chapter 11
A full night's sleep—in a bed, an actual bed—improved Elijah's mood somewhat, an action helped along by the fact Zora clearly didn't get her way in leaving.
Zandui insisted upon waiting until the morning before they set out, much to a certain warrior's annoyance.
Not that Elijah enjoyed Zora's discontent. Not at all.
They weren't friends. She'd made that clear. He was a tool to be used, and all Zora cared about was winning the Ascension. If Elijah was going to survive to see his world again, then he needed to start looking out for numero uno.