by Scott Eder
“Yes, Develor,” Cyndralla urged. “The heat is building once again. Keep it up.”
And what of love? Dev thought of the love he bore for his brother-in-arms, Magnus, and for his little sister. His elemental power soared, reaching the same maximum intensity as before, but this felt different. In the past, holding this much fire in his system brought with it the overwhelming desire to rend and break and destroy, but not this time. This time he felt in command, the master of the flame.
“We need more, Knight of Flame.” Cyndralla’s voice cracked under the strain.
More? Where am I going to find… His body already hummed with the force surging through his veins. More?
He thought of Cassidy and the world of possibilities blossoming between them.
An avalanche of raw elemental fire tore through the link, dwarfing anything he’d ever experienced before, and filled his entire being. It pulsed against his flesh as it raced down his arms to the focal point of his concentration.
In a massive release of elemental power, his hands exploded into pure white flame.
I did it. Dev gaped at the spectacle.
The orb in his hands rocked and a tremendous crack echoed through the room.
Shocked, the Knight of Flame dropped the orb, which skipped across the floor and came to rest against the bench next to Cyndralla’s white slipper.
The shock also terminated his connection. The flow ceased and his hands winked out. After the wide-open communion, the abrupt emptiness left him hollow and weak.
I did it. I found the white flame.
He stared at his hands in wonder, turning them in front of his face as if seeing them for the first time.
“What was that?” Cyndralla’s question tinged with awe. “I’ve never seen you branch into that color spectrum.”
He shook his head as he tried to remember how to speak. Eventually the words came to him.
“I listened to Stillman.”
Cyndralla picked up the orb. “You did it.”
“I know, did you see that?”
“No, I mean the orb. You broke it.”
A large crack had fissured across its surface and released black smoke that fouled the air under the shield.
Cyndralla winced. “By the gods…they twisted the essence of life itself.” She rushed out, but had the presence of mind to shout, “Thank you,” from down the hall.
“Glad I could help.” Dev murmured and went back to studying the new things at the end of his arms that for an instant glowed a beautiful, pure white.
I have got to try that again. He thought back to what he was thinking right before it happened, took a deep breath, and called the flame. Slow and steady he drew the heat from the lava and pushed it down to his hands. A small feed at first to get back into the rhythm. He focused on the fire, on the feel of the power in each of his fingertips. With a thought, they burst into flame.
Here goes nothing. He cranked the level from trickle to fire hose. Power screamed through him to the outlet in his hands, searing orange to light blue to deep indigo in a matter of seconds, but no white. He ran through the thoughts like before, sifting them into the fire-stream racing through his system. Rage, vengeance, love, beauty.
This has to be right. His hands burned hotter, but they didn’t change, didn’t turn white. Why not? What’s missing?
Cassidy.
As soon as he thought of her, his hands blazed even hotter…but not white.
What am I missing? Somehow she is the key.
Dev gradually cut the pull until it was little more than a dribble, no longer enough to sustain the flame, and his hands went out.
He fixed the image of that pure flame in his mind.
It was perfect. Beautiful.
On impulse, he grabbed a gold nugget from the bin and dismissed the lava. Drawing from the remaining heat in the room, he channeled the energy into his hands and they flared up. Dev closed his eyes and focused on the image in his head.
Flawless. In his charged grasp, the gold softened to the consistency of yellow clay. Calloused fingers dug shallow grooves across the metal’s surface to rough out the overall shape. Large sweeping arcs met in a round, tilted swoop; his hands traced the image in his head.
Someone walked into the room. Their movement summoned a cool breeze that kissed his bare shoulders and smelled of fresh, spring water.
Cassidy.
“It’s cooler in here than usual.” The sound of her light footfalls approached him, but he didn’t turn or stop his work. “I wanted to—oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were busy…” Her voice trailed off. She stood behind him.
Substance, character, depth, Dev merged them into his work. Cassidy rested her soft, slim hand on his shoulder.
Not until the image under his scrupulous touch matched the image in his mind precisely, did he open his eyes and set the finished work on the anvil. He leached the heat from the sculpture to harden the flame and killed the fire on his hands.
“Dev, it’s…amazing.” Cassidy spoke with a hushed awe. “Gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” She was right. It was gorgeous. A golden flame, its tip reaching toward the heavens, its base rounded into a bowl. In between, the individual licks and whorls of the fire seemed to dance before his eyes. It was the picture in his mind made solid. Flawless. Beautiful. He stared at his hands. The same hands that had made countless swords, axes and other weapons of destruction had just made this fragile depiction of his soul. Dev lifted the essence of his element and turned to Cassidy.
“There is a beauty behind the heat if one but looks for it,” Dev said quietly.
Mesmerized, Cassidy turned the sculpture in her hand, examining all the subtle nuances of the artistry.
“It’s…almost…alive.”
“Pure. And, I would like you to have it.”
She pushed the statue towards him. “Dev, I can’t. This is too much.”
“Please, Cassidy.” Dev closed his hand around hers. “Please.”
Chapter 48
SO DELICATE. SO BEAUTIFUL. CASSIDY CUPPED the newborn flame in her palm like a baby bird. As she made her way back to her new digs, she imagined the right place to display it. It had to be somewhere prominent, a place of honor.
On the desk? The dresser? No, too mundane. A creation of such beauty deserves something special. I’ll talk to Magnus. Maybe he can use his power to create a small alcove or a shelf in one of the walls.
From inside her room, emotions not her own brushed against her awareness—eagerness, excitement, fear.
First Dev and now this?
In the Forge a few moments ago, she’d sensed the Knight’s intensity and his reverence for the element that chose him before she laid her hand upon his shoulder.
That doesn’t make any sense. My gift requires physical contact.
It happened again. She sensed the emotions of someone in her quarters and it was someone she didn’t know.
“Hello?” she called from the doorway.
A shuffling clop sounded from the other side of the room and moved closer to the door, but remained just out of sight.
“Hel—what the?” Forgetting the stray emotions, Cassidy’s mouth dropped open and she wandered into a room lost in an explosion of blue. When she left a little while ago, the room was bare except for the basic bed, dresser, desk and pool. Now, though, blue and silver pennants hung on the cerulean-colored walls. An ornate armoire had taken up residence against the far side next to the pool. Even the bed had changed, was bigger and higher with sumptuous sea-green sheets and comforter. A driftwood stand on the desk next to her bed displayed her elemental cutlass.
“This is so beautiful and…blue. Wow, so much blue.”
The tight ball of emotions radiated pride.
Oh crap, forgot about that. It was on the other side of the bed, out of sight.
“Hello? Please come out.”
Stone hands grabbed the comforter and pulled up the small head and body of a muncle she had never seen before. Made
of rose-colored stone zigzagged with veins of silver ore, the little man set his hands where his hips should be and checked her out with brilliant ruby eyes. The line across his block head angled up.
Great. Mine has an attitude.
“Um, hi. My name is Cassidy.”
The muncle bowed.
“Do you have a name?”
After a few short hops, he crunched to the floor and dipped a pudgy stone finger into the stone as if it were wet cement and drew the name “Brella” in neat, blocky print.
“Brella. That’s a pretty name.” The little girl muncle shuffled closer, stone feet grinding against the floor, with a big curved line across her block. Brella waved her arm around the room and swelled with pride.
“This room is gorgeous.”
Brella nodded, a whole body affair that looked more like a bow than a nod. She took Cassidy’s hand, led her to the armoire and opened the door. It wasn’t a simple cabinet, but a doorway into a large walk-in closet cut into the bedrock.
Cassidy whistled. Brella, my dear, you have been busy.
Shooting a quick smile to Brella, Cassidy disappeared into the hidden room, which, in addition to a small table and chairs, contained full racks and shelves of clothes in every shade of blue Cassidy could imagine, and even some she didn’t know existed. Jeans and t-shirts and gowns and sweaters and socks and underwear all stacked or hung by hue and style.
I love blue, but this is a little over the top.
In the far corner, a new suit of leather armor had been fitted to a Cassidy-sized dummy. She ran her finger over the chest, tracing the embossed cloud and lightning emblem of her element.
Leather, huh? I’ve never been much of a leather girl, but I’ll try it. Hell, the motorcycle deal turned out pretty cool.
Brella took her hand again, led her to the desk—she’s a cute one—and pointed to a scrap of parchment pinned under the cutlass stand.
Yo,
Bring your new blade to the gym. I’ll grab the fireball and we’ll meet you there. Let’s see what you got.
Mag—
My new blade. Never in her life did she think she would handle, let alone own, a sword of any kind and now she had this work of art. A blue diamond blade etched with white-crested waves stuck out from a silver filigreed basket hilt. She hefted the weapon, admired its light weight, smooth lines and lethal grace. It felt like it had been made just for her.
On her way to her first battle, she patted Brella on the head and thanked her for the amazing room. She’d grown used to the halls and passageways of the Cradle in the short time she’d been there and soon heard the grunts and insults coming from the open doorway of the gym. They’d been at it for a few minutes and the testosterone hung so thick she could almost taste it. There was no anger or posturing here, just brotherly affection and camaraderie.
The boys stalked each other at opposite ends of the sparring circle with wooden replicas of their elemental weapons. Stripped to the waist, their wide shoulders, broad chests and sculpted abs rippled with their graceful movements. Magnus had grown big again to fight, his size half-again that of Dev.
Oh my…Dev looks yummy.
“Are you going to hit me this time, block head?” Dev taunted. He feigned a lunge that tricked Magnus into jumping back.
“Stop hopping around like a giant rabbit and I will.” Magnus charged across the ring, but Dev ducked under and took up position on the opposite side. “Stand still and fight like a man.”
“I could have gutted you on that pass.”
“Yeah. Yeah. If I had seen your blade in motion, I would have taken action. Instead, you hopped away with your fluffy tail between your legs.”
Dev grinned and dropped lower in his stance. In a blur, he flung himself across the ring, blade held at mid-level. Magnus blocked the slice, but not the follow-up roundhouse kick Dev scored to his left side.
Cassidy cringed at the solid thunk of foot and shin on ribs, but the big man didn’t even blink. Dev retreated to his side of the circle before Magnus could launch a counter.
“Well aren’t you Johnny Badass, with your fancy kicks.”
“You ready for this one, big man?”
“Come on.”
Dev dashed across the ring, movements so quick Cassidy had a hard time following. High. Low. Slash. Kick. Dodge. Reverse. Chop.
Her brain couldn’t keep up. By the time she acknowledged one move, Dev had already executed three more. Magnus blocked the blade attacks, but allowed Dev the kicks and punches. As she watched, the words of the Lord of Water echoed in her head. Fire is the best fighter. Earth the best defender.
You got that right. Look at them go. Both warriors lived up to their roles perfectly. The speed and aggression of Dev fought the strength and fortitude of the giant, Magnus. Dev enjoyed the fight, but Magnus grew frustrated. She saw it play out on his face. If Dev wasn’t careful, he would find himself on the wrong side of the giant’s fist.
Before it got out of hand, Cassidy stepped in. “Hey.” She held the pointy end of the cutlass pinched between her fingers at arm’s length and batted her eyelashes. “Would one of you big, burly, men show me how to use this pointy thing?”
Magnus pushed Dev aside. “I’ll handle this.”
“Hold on there, tiger.” Dev slid around him and got to Cassidy first.
“Seriously, though, you guys are amazing. Do you think I’ll be able to fight like that in time?”
“Nope,” Dev jumped in.
“Absolutely not,” Magnus seconded.
“But, I…” Cassidy said.
Dev pushed her playfully and Magnus broke into a broad smile.
“We’ve been doing this for a long, long time, Cassidy. Perhaps you will get to this level, and we’d be more than happy to teach you everything we can.” Magnus looked to Dev for corroboration, who nodded. “But I don’t think that’s your destiny.”
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to learn the basics,” Dev said. “Let’s see you swing it.”
As she did in the Forge with Cinder, Cassidy adopted the only stance she knew—body turned, right foot forward, left arm back for balance—and slashed a big ‘x’ in the air.
“She looks like a blue pirate,” Magnus offered.
“Arr, matey.” Dev played along.
“Guys, a little focus, please.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Dev said. “Neither of us is much of a fencer, but we can show you the basics.”
Dev walked her through the standard thrust, parry and slash maneuvers. Cassidy tried her best, but the motions didn’t come easy and she found herself constantly off balance. After thirty minutes of pathetic attempts, Cassidy called it quits.
“I’ve had enough of this for one day. Can we do it again tomorrow?” The question popped out before she could stop it, dropping a shroud of uncertainty over them about what the next twenty-four hours would bring.
* * *
Stillman snored in the purple recliner, and Cyndralla slouched at the table amidst the empty vials, powders, broken wands and the cracked orb barely visible through the contaminated air under the pink shield. Anger and frustration radiated off the Knight of Air like steam from a boiler as Cassidy tiptoed in.
“I’m lost.” Cyndralla lifted her head and peered at Cassidy through bloodshot, slitted purple eyes.
Those eyes.
Stillman coughed and Cyndralla turned, but the old man simply changed position and resumed his symphony.
“Stillman and I have tried everything,” Cyndralla said. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Cassidy wanted to say something inspiring, like her coach did before a big swim meet, but everything that came to mind seemed inappropriate given that Cyndralla was trying to save thousands of lives. Instead of saying nothing, Cassidy settled for the heartfelt classic, “I believe in you,” and placed her hand on Cyndralla’s arm. If she could, she’d transfer all her good feelings and well wishes into the Knight of Air to help her out.
No sooner had the words lef
t her mouth than a tingle started in her gut and raced across her breast, down her arm and out through her fingertips across to Cyndralla.
The Knight of Air shuddered then blinked her eyes several times while her expression brightened. Gone was the defeat and despair, replaced with the spark of hope.
“What did you—?” Cyndralla turned back to the table and grabbed the vial with the glimmering blue liquid. She held it before her lips and muttered a word below Cassidy’s range of hearing. The liquid hissed and bubbled as Cyndralla poured it over the murky swirls within the magic shield.
Shiny blue met inky black with a crackling flash. Cyndralla’s elixir washed the shadow in flares of miniature lightning strikes. At first the shadow seemed to falter, beaten back by the light, but that soon dimmed and the darkness prevailed.
“We’re close…so close.” Cyndralla bent to her task and Cassidy left the room.
She crept along the corridor and turned at the first intersection. Out of sight of the lab, she leaned against the wall and scratched her arms and legs. The itch had stopped once she had left the lab, but the vigorous action made her feel better.
What the hell was that?
Chapter 49
THE LAST TIME THE KNIGHTS STOOD proud and confident upon the seal of the Order, Wren and Dronor still lived and Dev, amped up and envious, had patted his friends on the back and sent them off in high spirits. This time, though, no one sat on the sideline.
Magnus, dressed for battle in a loose-fitting Quinsteele mail shirt over battle-worn leathers, spun the head of his axe behind his head as it rode his shoulder. The tightly woven links of his armor obscured the mountain-scape symbol of his element upon his breast. With his long blonde hair and beard, Dev thought he looked every part the Viking chieftain.
Cassidy squirmed on his right, decked out in leather so new and tight it squeaked when she moved. Her fingers absently traced the grooves and openings in the basket hilt of the elemental cutlass that hung from the navy blue sash at her hip. She could have been a warrior goddess fresh from the storybooks if it weren’t for the neon white Nike’s on her feet.