“Hey, I’m just trying to figure out who you are. You look familiar.” Zakkery disregarded her visible lack of interest in his charms. “Hmmm… Have we slept together maybe?”
Hope’s mouth dropped open at the blasé question. “No, we haven’t. At all.” Jesus, she’d known this guy for thirty seconds and she was already sick of him. She didn’t want to see him naked besides.
Zakkery’s lips curved at her appalled tone, this time into a more genuine, crooked grin. “Well, if you make it your last request, I’ll see what I can do to remedy that.”
“Thanks, but I think I’d rather just die.”
His head tilted at an almost ninety degree angle. “Huh. Maybe this is gonna work out, after all.”
“What’s going to work?”
Zakkery ignored that and glanced over at Galen. “Kingu wants to know where this girl comes from. Has she told you, yet?”
“No. She refuses to give us any information.” Galen’s eyes stayed fixed on her like a snake. “Not that it matters. She’ll meet the death that Council lackies deserve.”
Yeah… That sounded bad.
“Look, I have no idea what any of this…”
Galen cut her off. “I’m the Enforcer of the Cloudland, now. I oversee our laws. Answer my questions or face the consequences! Did Job send you? Are you part of his vendetta?”
“Job’s… vendetta?”
Job, of the Earth House wasn’t the most popular Phase in the Fire House, either. He liked to lecture them about why arson was bad thing. It never failed to piss Djinn off and incite him to start even more infernos. But even Djinn would laugh at the idea of Job with a vendetta. The guy was like Ned Flanders.
“Job and Council passed judgment on us and now they’re seeking us out to finish what they started and kill us!” Galen hissed.
“I seriously doubt that…”
Galen talked right over her. “Well, this is my kingdom, now. Job has no authority here, human!”
“I’m not a human.” But she was beginning to understand something. “So all you guys were Banished and now you –like-- hang out together?
It kind of made sense. Of course, some of the Banished Phases would have survived the Fall. Who knew how many had been exiled over the centuries? Statistically speaking, of course some of them were immune to the plague. Why had no one ever considered that before?
Zakkery snorted in amusement. “Yeah, we’re like a fraternity.”
“Shut-up.” Galen stabbed a finger at her through the Plexiglas. “Save you lies and mind games. Just tell us who sent you here.”
“No one sent me! I accidently jumped here. I told you that, already.” Hope hesitated and glanced over at Zakkery. “And, when I arrived, I crashed into a man. I didn’t mean to, but I knocked him into a moat of acid.” It had been pretty cool lawn feature, actually. The Fire Palace had a lava moat, so Hope appreciated this new variation on a homey theme. “Do you know if he’s okay?”
Zakkery regarded her through a sweep of dark hair that had fallen over his face, his eyes narrowed in consideration.
“She means Kingu.” Galen explained when Zakkery didn’t respond. “I thought at first she was sent to execute that reptile, but she now claims to be concerned about his health. I’ve told her nothing.” He seemed smug over refusing Hope’s request.
“Kingu’s fine.” Zakkery reported, ignoring Galen’s aggravated glare. He kept his attention on Hope. “He asked me to find out about you, in fact.”
“He did?” Hope’s heart beat faster at that news. She’d been trying not to think of him, because it distracted her from the whole “being-on-death-row” problem, but she just couldn’t resist the bait. “What does he want to know?”
“Well… he’s kinda curious about what species you are.”
Hope’s eager expression fell. That was just insulting. “I’m an Elemental, of course.”
“Where’s the streak in your hair, then?” He gestured to her temple.
“It’s a birth defect. I don’t have any real powers. But, I am still a Phase.”
Mostly.
“What House?”
Hope hesitated. Mentioning her family was sort of a Catch-22, at this point. Anyone who knew the Fire House’s reputation well enough to believe that they’d retaliate horribly for hurting Hope, also knew that they’d retaliate horribly for abducting her, in the first place. She couldn’t really use her family as an effective threat without her captors panicking and getting rid of all the evidence that she’d ever been here, at all.
Including her body.
“Ummm…” She cleared her throat and tried to think of the most innocuous House she could possibly be a heretofore unknown member of. “I’m a… Color Phase.” That was pretty good actually. No one was afraid of the Color House. They were mostly painters.
“Color Phase?” Zakkery scanned her rainbow hued outfit again and nodded as if that made sense. “Alright. That explains why you’re dressed like a nut, then. Sorta.”
Hope’s mouth thinned. Everyone was a fashion critic.
“Why is Kingu asking you about this girl?” Galen demanded. “I saved him from her assassination attempt. He should be asking me.”
“Maybe he just likes me more than you.” Zakkery suggested causally.
“I didn’t try to assassinate anyone.” Hope protested.
Galen’s eyes narrowed at her and then he looked back at Zakkery. “In any case, tell Kingu not to worry about the invader. I’ve already scheduled her match.”
Zakkery’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t have a Match.” Hope interjected.
Except, the man called Kingu looked so much like a monster that she couldn’t help remembering Oberon’s final words to her and it filled her with so much… hope.
Kingu was huge.
That was the first thing she noticed, thanks to her upbringing.
Fire Phases sized up everyone they met, just in case they had to battle them to the death, at a moment’s notice. This man was gigantic. He didn’t carry a weapon, but he certainly wasn’t unarmed. He was a warrior. She could tell just by looking at him. Real warriors didn’t need a sword to win a fight. Oberon had taught her that.
Kingu’s eyes finally got her attention to his face. Hot, and hard, and as beautiful as red flames they’d burned straight through her. He wasn’t a Phase. Truthfully, she had no clue what he was, but his harsh features had transfixed her.
He wasn’t handsome. But then, warriors didn’t have to be, did they? The granite set of his jaw was somehow mesmerizing in its brutal lines, his black hair hitting his wide shoulders. The cruel, feral angles of his face reminded her of a dragon or a minotaur. Something dangerous and wild. Someone the smaller beings scarified their helpless virgins to rather than risk his wrath.
Speaking as a helpless virgin, Hope would absolutely enter Kingu’s labyrinth and take her chances on being devoured. He was spectacular.
Even in a stunningly elegant business suit, he’d looked… out of time. As if he was some prehistoric creature dropped in a modern world. He was like the more primal, fierce version of the people around him. If he’d wanted to, he could have fought anybody and won. Hope knew it and it had every honorary Fire Phase gene in her body standing up and taking notice.
Kingu claimed to be a god. Maybe he was. Hope felt the ancient power he held. The focused endurance of it. She could buy the explanation that he was some kind of primeval deity. Semantics didn’t really matter, though, because whatever else Kingu was, he was definitely a monster.
That was very encouraging.
Hope still didn’t believe she had a Match, but she had absolute faith in Oberon. He’d said to be on the lookout for a monster and she’d found one. It was a promising coincidence, by any standards. Granted, Kingu didn’t seem overcome with tender feelings for her, but he had been soaking in acid the last time they met. He might be a little more pleasant when they were both on solid ground.
She needed to see him, again, so she
could understand what was happening. The sooner the better. Fire Phases, even when they were pretending to be Color Phases, were not great at patience.
“Galen doesn’t mean a romantic kind of Match.” Zakkery informed her before Hope could say anything else. “He’s talking about a death match.”
She stared at him blankly. “A what match?”
“They feed prisoners to gladiators around here.” Zakkery lifted a shoulder in a “what can you do?” shrug. “Cuts way down on recidivism.”
“Gladiators?” Hope’s mind raced. No. Those kind of blood sports had been outlawed in nearly every kingdom centuries before. “You expect me to fight in a gladiator match?”
“Oh, I don’t think anybody’s expecting much of a fight, honey.” Zakkery assured her.
“You will die in the ring.” Galen added as if she still might not be clear. “The battle begins in half an hour. Whatever secrets you keep mean nothing, just you and your Council allies mean nothing. Job will never beat me. This time I will win!” Turning on heel, he marched out of the prison.
“Oh dear.” Hope looked up at Zakkery who was focused on his Union Jack patterned sneakers, apparently lost in thought. “I have to get out of here. For your own good, you need to let me out. You have no idea what my family will do to you if I’m thrown to the lions.”
“Yeah, I’m more worried about Galen’s men, than your fearsome Color House buddies.” Zakkery muttered distractedly. “Listen, nothing can stop the fight, but there’s still hope here.”
“I am Hope.” She snapped. “And I don’t really see any.”
All the Fire Phases were marched out into practice fields, day after day, to drill on battle maneuvers. But, in all her years of mock battle, Hope had never won a fight. Not even against the sawdust dummies. This was going to be a disaster.
She flopped down on the cell’s single cot and sighed.
Maybe she could at least last one or two rounds. That wouldn’t embarrass her family too badly. If she died right away, they’d be so disappointed.
“What are you talking about?” Zakkery asked blankly. “You are hope? What does that mean?”
She ran a hand through her hair and spared him an annoyed look. “For goodness sake, it means I’m Hope, obviously. My name is Hope, of the Fi… Color House.”
Zakkery froze. “Your name is Hope?” He repeated. She could see his mind racing. “Were you were named that because you brought hope to someone?”
“I don’t know. It’s just my name.” She’d never been called anything else.
“Hope” wasn’t a Fire House name, but when Frankie found her, there had been a silver medallion bearing the word tucked into her baby blanket. Shaped like a star, it had a diamond at each of the points and her name in the center. Oberon had attached the charm to her bracelet years before and she instinctively looked down at it. Sure enough “Hope” was spelled out in the formal form of Elemental, the engraving an elaborate series of lines and swirls.
Zakkery grinned at her in diabolical delight. “Ya know what? This is my lucky day.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Well, your fortunes are about to change.” He leaned forward intently. “Okay look, odds are layin’ a hundred to one against you and they haven’t even seen your shoes, yet.”
Hope glanced at her sequined sneakers and frowned defensively. “You people are betting on my execution?”
“Don’t take it personally. We bet on all the fights. We don’t get alotta TV here. My point is, you’re not gonna win without some help.”
Hope’s eyes narrowed. She’d been thinking that, too, but hearing him say it just annoyed her. “I’m not entirely helpless, you know. I’ve had some training with a sword.”
Frankie, of the Heat House was the best swordsman in the realm and he oversaw every step of the Fire Phase’s rigorous weapons instruction. He taught all the greatest warriors, but he always took special care to ensure that the Fire and Heat Houses would be difficult to kill. They were his family. Frankie and Oberon made sure Hope got an exemplary military education.
She just didn’t know quite what to do with it.
“Yeah, you look like a real killer. The point is, I think maybe Kingu might help you.” Zakkery concentrated on dropping his cigarette to the ground and crushing it out with his sneaker. “I mean, I know he’s not someone a girl…”
“Really?” Hope’s mood soared. “Do you think he’ll be at this fight thingie?”
Wow, even more reason she’d have to do well. Super powerful gods would probably not have a lot of respect for weakness. He’d never agree to talk to her if she died.
Zakkery gave her a mystified squint. “Uh… You get that Kingu’s the… ya know,” he held a palm up waaaay over his head, “big guy with the… um…” he hesitated, “face issues, right?”
“The monster.” Hope nodded. “Yes, I know. Do you think he’ll be there?”
“Maybe.” Zakkery allowed warily, like he suddenly suspected she was crazy and he was stalling for a psych evaluation to come back.
Hope ignored his attitude. “Does Kingu have a Match?”
“Not yet. According to him, he’s a god. They don’t have anything as lowly as Match.” The tone was dry as the Heat Kingdom’s desert.
“Really?” This just got better and better. “Do you think if I beat the Spartacus wannabes this afternoon, you could get Kingu to meet with me? I’d like to speak to him.”
“I think that would be a great idea.” Zakkery agreed earnestly. “Just stay alive as long as you can and I’ll do the rest.” He studied her for a beat and then snorted. “Unbelievable.” He gave his head a slight shake. “You really don’t scare easy, do ya?”
“No.” Actually yes, but Hope tried very hard not to show it. That was another fundamental lesson of being a Fire Phase.
Rule number twenty-two: When you’re frightened, just hit harder.
“Good. Remember that and you’ll be fine.” Smoke colored eyes burned into hers. “You aren’t going to die today.” He sounded positive about that. “Just… try not to look too pretty.”
Chapter Four
The most alluring clouds that mount the sky
Owe to a troubled element their forms, their hues to sunset
William Wordsworth- sonnet
“She’s too pretty.” It was an accusation. “We both know that. This entire exercise is a waste of time.”
Kingu had no idea why he’d agreed to this insanity. Zakkery had showed up at the fortress, insisting that Kingu watch the irrelevant, bungling assassin’s execution. And for some reason Kingu didn’t understand, he’d agreed to come along. It was unacceptable. Especially, since the moron seemed convinced that this condemned girl was the woman Kingu had been searching for. Kingu could tell from Zakkery’s incessant babbling about the woman’s charms.
He was automatically predisposed to reject this girl, just because Zakkery was pushing for her so hard. Not to mention the fact she was some unidentified species of lower being, dressed like lunatic who’d robbed a thrift shop, and had undoubtedly come to the Cloudland to kill him.
And she knew he was a monster.
Kingu scowled down at the arena floor. He hated these boring fights. Watching creatures squander their finite lives somehow depressed him. This arena had once been an outdoor theater, but it was now retrofitted to look like something out of ancient Rome. The tacky gold columns gave Kingu a headache.
He was in a bad mood. Worse than usual, even. He had been since the Banished Phases took the woman away. That wasn’t the reason for his aggravation, of course. Kingu would never accept that. No, he just disliked interaction with imbeciles.
Gods, he couldn’t wait until he could get out of this ant farm.
Below him, the woman awaited her fate. Standing in the center of the arena, she turned in a slow circle. A wide plastic cuff encircled her ankle, to keep her from jumping. Very few Phases were strong enough to jump with that much plastic on them, so it chained her to th
e Cloudland.
The weight of her massive steel blade dragged along in the dirt. Phases chanted from the stadium around her, screaming and stomping their feet in anticipation. Even with forty feet separating them, Kingu could read the glazed panic on her soft face. The utter incomprehension that this type of viciousness existed in the universe.
Kingu crossed his arms over his chest.
Shit.
“She’s kinda pretty, yeah. But, not too pretty.” Zakkery stipulated swiftly. “And I found out what she is, like you asked. She’s a nice, normal Phase.”
Kingu scowled. He’d secretly been hoping for another species. Elementals were so… ordinary.
“She’s a Color Phase.” Zakkery continued. “She has a birth defect and doesn’t have any powers, though.”
Kingu’s frown deepened. “Why did she attack me, if she has no powers?” Was she suicidal or just stupid?
“I don’t think she meant to attack you. She says it was an accident.”
Kingu grunted, not convinced.
“The woman is a really good catch for your girlfriend hunt.” Zakkery pressed. “Think about that list you gave me. She isn’t brainless, her voice isn’t shrill…”
Kingu cut him off. “She isn’t plain, though, is she? Or quiet.” Massive understatements on both counts.
“No, but she’s got the body you were looking for.” Zakkery smirked. “Not too thin, in all the right places.”
Bastard.
Kingu seriously considered ripping out both of Zakkery’s eyes, simply to stop the Phase from looking at her. The fact that Zakkery would no doubt see it as a psychological victory kept him still. “She’s not uncomplicated, as I asked, either.”
“No, but she’s sure not boring. Trust me. I talked to her for a while. She’s got something… rare.”
He’d spoken to her for a while?
Kingu didn’t like that. Didn’t like the reluctant admiration in Zakkery’s tone when he spoke of the woman. He firmed his jaw and he cut to the bottom line. “She’s blonde.”
The moonbeam color was very different from Kay’s brassy curls, though. That was something, he supposed. It bounced around the woman’s head in a messy, frizzy ponytail that his mother never would have worn, even while engaging in a blood sport.
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 4) Page 6