“I told you,” Scorch said with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t.”
Elias held out his hand. “Come.” Scorch looked doubtfully at his offered hand before reluctantly accepting it. Elias tugged him close and whispered in his ear. “What if I told you what Vivid was up to last night when you were tossing and turning in bed?”
Scorch tried to move away, but Elias held him tight. “That’s his business, not mine,” he argued, his wrist trapped in Elias’ hot grip.
“He was with me. It doesn’t make your blood boil, thinking of sweet Vivid on his back?”
Scorch was disgusted by Elias’ crudeness. “That’s not true.”
“No? Can’t you picture all that pretty pale skin laid out beneath me? He makes the sweetest sounds.”
Scorch felt his skin sizzle beneath Elias’ touch. A pinprick of sweat dripped from his hairline and he sucked in a lungful of burning air. “I know what you’re trying to do. Make me angry so I’ll lose control.”
“And look at you, fighting it so well. I guess jealousy isn’t a strong enough trigger.”
“Because I’m not jealous,” Scorch claimed, but Elias only laughed and increased the pressure on his wrist. Scorch tried to wrench himself free, but the other man was ready for the attempt, sliding up his arm and rotating it with a quick heave. Scorch cried out and dropped to his knees.
Elias smirked, standing over him with his arm twisted behind his back. “Is it rage that breaks you? Do you think your parents were angry when they were chopped into bits?” He pulled back on Scorch’s arm.
Scorch sobbed in pain. He saw his parents through the leaves. “Elias, stop, please.”
“Did you know a Fire can’t burn unless we’re already dead?” asked Elias casually. “Then we melt and spit and cook just like any ordinary human. Ever smell roasted human flesh? Is that how mom and dad smelled when their bodies burned?”
Scorch’s insides were boiling and his fingertips were as hot as the tears leaking down his face. “Please stop,” he begged.
“ELIAS,” a voice roared, and a second later, the hold on Scorch’s arm released, and he fell to the floor with a grunt. He rolled over, clutching at his sore arm, and saw Vivid standing over him, his dark hair blowing back from his face with an invisible wind.
“I don’t appreciate you interrupting our training session,” Elias said right before he was backhanded across the face.
“Get out,” Vivid snarled. His voice was two thunderclouds colliding.
From his position on the floor, Scorch’s vision was filled with lethal forces. And leather. To his right was Vivid, eyes storming and fingers itching to release the twin daggers from his forearms. To his left was Elias, the air around him hazy with heat.
“Axum asked me to train him,” Elias sneered.
“Let me worry about Axum,” said Vivid. “Get out before I remove you myself.”
Elias licked his lips and Scorch realized his lower lip had split from Vivid’s blow. It was shiny with blood. “Oh, Viv,” he whispered. “Please get rough with me.”
Scorch felt foolish lying on his back while all of this unfolded, but he was also worried that if he made a sudden movement, either Elias or Vivid would strike at him on instinct, so he remained on his back, breathing hard as the two elementals stared at each other with pure venom.
After thirty seconds of competitive glowering, Elias barked a laugh that reminded Scorch—with a rush of nausea—of Ebbins. “Fine, fine. But I’m telling Axum.”
“Good,” said Vivid. “Save me the trip.”
Elias stepped back, glancing down at Scorch with a wink. “I got you on your back,” he laughed, and then he left the training room.
The temperature decreased immediately at his departure and Scorch took several deep breaths to steady his racing heartbeat and cool the too-hot blood swimming through his veins. A cool breeze swept the damp hair from his forehead and he looked up at Vivid.
“Awful drafty in here.”
Predictably, Vivid said nothing, but he was staring down at Scorch with huge eyes. Scorch exhaled slowly and sat up. He rolled his hurt arm and was relieved to find it fine, except for the mild ache. He did not wait for Vivid to offer him a hand, and he did not ask for one. He stood up on his own.
“He wanted me to light the torch.”
“He wanted to humiliate you.”
“He thought if he upset me, I would be able to light it.” Scorch looked down at his boots. They really were a comely shade of red.
“Look at me.”
Scorch made himself meet Vivid’s eyes. They were standing closer than he’d realized, and despite Vivid’s shorter stature, his presence was strong and solid and sure. Vivid held up his hand, palm up, and for a baffling moment, Scorch thought he wanted him to take it. But before he had the chance to humiliate himself, Vivid lifted his hand, curling his fingers into a fist, and a strong wind made Scorch stagger back. Before he could fall, another buffer of wind came at him from behind. An updraft made his hair puff out around his face and, for a moment, his feet didn’t touch the ground.
“Gods,” Scorch whispered. The wind set him gently back on the ground before it died.
The wind had rustled Vivid’s hair, and his eyes were intense, lending him a vaguely feral appearance. “Torture doesn’t compel one to do their best work. Neither does bottling everything up and waiting for it to explode. You will learn to summon your power without the aid of distress, and I will teach you. Do you understand?”
I don’t understand any of this. “But shouldn’t I be taught by another Fire?”
“What happens to a fire that’s been caught by the wind?”
Scorch pictured the desert, when he’d blown a stream of flame from his belly and the wind had spread it far across the sand. A small smile spread his lips. “Air makes fire stronger,” he said. You make me stronger.
“I’ll teach you,” Vivid repeated.
“What about Axum?” Scorch wondered whether Elias was already with the assassin leader. “He was adamant Elias be the one.”
“Because Elias requested you last night,” said Vivid, his voice dipping dangerously low. “And like an idiot, Axum agreed, despite my arguments.”
“Is that where you were all night?” asked Scorch, his heart adopting a quicker rhythm. “Fighting over me?”
Vivid looked bemused by the inquiry. “I doubted Elias’ methods would be conducive to higher learning, considering your extreme ignorance and over-sensitivity.”
“Right. So you were fighting over me?” Scorch was smiling and Vivid was surly, but wasn’t that always the way of it? “You’re going to teach me how to be a big bad elemental, Vivid?” Vivid’s name felt pleasant in his mouth, and he vowed to find more opportunity to use it.
Vivid’s nostrils flared in annoyance. “Yes.”
“Great,” said Scorch. “When do we start?”
“Now, if you ever stop talking.”
In the wake of Elias quitting the room, Vivid tried to teach Scorch how to use his elemental powers. It was so unsuccessful that, by the end of the day, Scorch felt near to tears with exhaustive failure and Vivid’s eyebrows were ragged from an intensive workout of furrowing in dismay at Scorch’s lack of anything pertaining to skill. Without imminent danger or mind-boggling rage, he couldn’t rummage even the smallest of sparks.
When they left the training room, Vivid saw that Scorch ate dinner, and then he marched him to his cot, watching like a hawk until Scorch had chewed his Dream Moss.
Scorch dreamt again, not of mountaintop embraces, but of an unlit wick, desperate to be ignited.
A Study in Wind
14
The next day was not an improvement.
Scorch and Vivid returned to the eastern training room, passing Elias on the way. He wore a wicked smile on his face and winked at Scorch, but said nothing. Vivid had disappeared again the night before, when he thought Scorch was sleeping, and Scorch could only assume he’d gone to see Axum. Since Vivid didn’t me
ntion the particulars, Scorch assumed he had gotten his way. By the look on Elias’ face, Elias had not.
“Sit,” Vivid instructed when they entered the training room.
Scorch took a seat on the hard floor and watched as Vivid gathered a single white candle and placed it between them. He sat across from Scorch, his face a mask of sternness, and Scorch wondered what it would have been like if Vivid had been one of his instructors at the Guild. He probably would have been an apprentice forever, if only because Vivid was so distracting that he’d never absorb his lessons. At present, he tried not to be too distracted by the assassin, but it was hard, because Vivid kept biting at his lower lip and glowering behind a rascally strand of hair.
“Elemental abilities don’t usually present until one has reached pubescence,” Vivid lectured, already sounding bored. “When you presented for the first time, you changed, as is normal, and became Fire in its purest physical form.”
“During my hunting test,” Scorch confirmed.
“A lucky coincidence that you were isolated when it happened,” said Vivid. “After that, how did your powers progress?”
He thought back to that shaky, frightening time, when he had been so afraid of changing back into that thing that he cut himself off from everyone. On the inside, at least. On the outside, he formed his happy, boastful shell. “Slowly,” he told Vivid. “I would feel it swelling up in me, re-gathering, and then it would burst out in tiny, unexpected moments. I set our herbalist’s garden on fire, the Master’s laundry. The occasional spark would set the occasional fire. People thought I was a fire starter.” He laughed and it was bitter. “I guess I was. Am.”
“Yet you managed to refrain from experiencing another outburst blatant enough to get you caught. Difficult for any untrained elemental to do, especially a Fire. How did you do it?”
Scorch couldn’t look at Vivid’s open stare any longer, so he lowered his gaze to the unlit candle between them. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I take deep breaths when I feel it happening, try to cool down.” He could see Vivid’s fingers tapping against his knee.
“How do you feel now?” Vivid asked.
“Well, my life hasn’t been in danger.”
“That you’re aware of,” said Vivid. “How did you feel when you were hunting?”
Scorch was unused to Vivid asking him so many questions, and he couldn’t deny the entire situation had him flustered. “My hunting test?” he asked, trying to think. “I felt a little nervous. But I was confident, the best of my age with a bow. I had no idea what was going to happen.”
“And yet it happened, all the same.” Vivid slid the candle an inch toward Scorch. “Your life wasn’t in danger and it still happened, because one is not linked to the other. You can summon your power just as well right now as you could if I held a dagger to your throat.”
“Yeah,” Scorch laughed anxiously, “because I know you wouldn’t kill me.”
Vivid glared at him. “You’re confident in all the wrong ways.”
Scorch shrugged.
“You can light that candle as easily as I can steal the breath from your lungs,” Vivid said. “The only difference between us is that I have the confidence to do it and you don’t.”
“Bit of a height difference, too, I think.”
Scorch didn’t light the candle that day, nor the day after that, and the only confidence he gained was in his ability to get a cramp in his leg from sitting all day, staring at a candle. But on the fourth day of his training, Vivid walked right past the tunnel leading to the eastern training room. He led them outside instead, and Audrey went with them, a bow slung over her shoulder.
Scorch gulped the fresh air with a smile and a relaxed roll of his shoulders. He had gone far too long without sunlight. The waterfall’s mist made his hair go damp as they navigated down the rocks, Audrey and Vivid on dainty assassin feet, and Scorch slipping only the once, of which he was embarrassingly proud.
“Think the fresh air might improve my confidence?” Scorch asked, enjoying the sights of the forest.
“I think it will improve your smell,” Vivid said. “You’ve not bathed since we arrived.”
Scorch’s face flashed hot. “It’s not like I’ve had time. We’ve been staring at candles all day, every day.”
Vivid swept the hair from his eyes with a hoity huff. “Our schedules have been identical and I have found time every day to clean myself.” Scorch’s mouth hung open stupidly as he imagined Vivid sneaking off to bathe beneath the waterfall, his skin glowing in the moonlight, shimmering with beads of water.
Audrey, who had, up until that point, been listening patiently, lifted her hands in the air and water from the pool began to rise. Scorch watched the mass of droplets float over their heads, and then, before he knew it was happening, she released them in a downpour. Scorch was soaked, Vivid was soaked, and Audrey was soaked.
“Audrey is a Water, by the way,” mumbled Vivid as he shook out his wet hair.
“And she is capable of speaking for herself when the two of you aren’t bickering,” Audrey sniped. “Scorch, since you’re already wet, why don’t you get clean while Vivid dries our clothes. The water’s nice, in case you didn’t notice.”
Scorch frowned, looking at Vivid. “You can air-dry clothes?”
Vivid’s stare was impenetrable.
“There were a few times in the Heartlands when I could have used some air-drying, you know,” Scorch said testily.
“It was tempting to reveal my greatest secret to a perfect stranger but somehow I resisted.”
“So you thought I was perfect?” Scorch asked before stripping off his clothing, which had Vivid turning around to speak with Audrey about something direly important. Scorch smirked, dipping his toe into the pool, and then he jumped in with what he hoped was an obnoxious splash.
The water was crisp and cool and he really should have thought to bathe days ago. What was wrong with him? Had he grown so used to Vivid telling him what to do that, without specific instructions, he’d let himself ruminate in his own musk for a substantial amount of time? He dunked his head and scrubbed at his hair, then let himself bob along the surface, watching Vivid and Audrey conversing in the distance. Scorch squinted. Were they already dry?
He floated around for several enjoyable minutes before getting out, hesitating at the water’s edge as he looked around for his wet clothes. Audrey murmured something to Vivid, whose back was still turned, and, without looking, he tossed Scorch’s clothes over his shoulder. They landed at his feet, dry. Did Vivid have to touch his clothing to dry it? Did he have his hands all over his underthings? Scorch banished the thought and piled his clothes on in a hurry, which proved mildly uncomfortable, considering his skin was still damp.
“Okay, I’m as clean as I’m going to get,” Scorch announced.
Vivid nodded and began walking away from the waterfall. Scorch hurried to catch up, walking in stride beside Audrey. He snuck a look at her; she was staring straight ahead, as Vivid was wont to do. Real personable, these assassins.
“Not that I mind the ravishing company,” Scorch said to her, “but Vivid and I have always done this alone.”
Audrey didn’t turn her head as she walked. “I’m here in case you set anything on fire you’re not supposed to.”
“That’s optimistic.”
After walking for about ten minutes, Vivid stopped and turned to him. “You’re going to catch us our dinner.” He motioned to Audrey, who handed Scorch the bow. He took it, running his fingers along the smooth yew wood.
“Am I meant to shoot flaming arrows or something?” Scorch asked wryly as Audrey passed him the quiver.
“You’re meant to do as I say,” Vivid retorted. “Go. Hunt. But keep within a one mile radius.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
“No,” was Vivid’s answer. “Off you go.”
Scorch secured the quiver to his back and headed into the forest, where streaks of sunlight dappled throug
h the branches and cast an enchanting glow. It had been a while since he wandered on his own, and the bow in his grip lent him courage, confidence. He was far removed from that boy of thirteen.
Scorch did as Vivid instructed and kept within a mile of the great oak they’d stopped beneath. At first, he merely enjoyed the green perfume of the air and the scenery of giant, vine covered trees, and then he began to hush his steps and perk up his ears for animals. He spotted a furry red squirrel in a branch overhead and shot it a smile. It made a chirpy little squirrel sound and threw an acorn at his head. He frowned at the furry creature but moved on. He would not kill for petty revenge, and besides, who wanted to eat squirrel for dinner? Scorch remembered that Vivid was fond of rabbit, so he began searching the forest floor. Within half an hour, he had three hares.
When he returned to the oak, Vivid and Audrey had a fire going. Scorch sat down beside Vivid and handed him his bounty.
“I thought you would want me to start the cooking fire with my powers,” Scorch said, nodding at the flames.
“Maybe, if I had no intention of eating,” Vivid replied, “but I’m hungry.” He took up the hares and walked away from the fire to skin them, a skill at which he was unsurprisingly proficient.
Audrey accepted the skinned hares, skewering them with sharpened sticks and settling them over the fire to roast. Vivid returned to sitting beside him and Scorch was reminded of the night they spent in the cave, with their little fire and the Mountain Flower Whiskey. He felt that same warmth in his stomach, too, only now it wasn’t manufactured by Kio’s deviousness.
The fire crackled as their dinner cooked, and though the three elementals spoke rarely, the silence was not uncomfortable; it was peaceful. After they ate, Scorch was pleasantly full and a little sleepy. It was an unexpected turn of events when Vivid took his hand and pressed something into his palm.
He examined the silver leaves against his skin, the leaves of Dream Moss. “I thought you chewed the stems.”
“The leaves are also edible,” Vivid explained.
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