by Aspose
“Don't quit on my account,” Gale protested. He moved stiffly, and she thought he might've been better off using the staff as a walking stick. He was definitely pushing the recovery.
“It is not only on your account,” he said ruefully. “My son is a hard task master.”
“Ha!” Frost called, but didn’t follow.
“Your family is close,” she observed as they entered the kitchen. Blue glass countertops gleamed and the white-tiled walls reflected neon blue and red lights. The counters held an array of unfamiliar appliances.
“Hm.” He opened the refrigerator, releasing a fog of supercooled air. “Are you in the mood for a hot or cold snack?”
“Hot.”
He removed a blue cube roughly the size of an ice cream bar and bit it, revealing the white filling, then rummaged around for a red cube. He plated the red cube, put it into a box and showed Gale how to slide her fingers across the controls. “We’ll teach you how to read our language later. For now, this symbol will reheat these meal blocks.” The machine chimed and he removed the steaming red block and took it to the stools at the counter.
Gale sat and took a cautious bite. It was as exciting as a frozen TV dinner.
He smiled at her expression and brought her a cup of tea. “Fresh is always better. Blossom always brings something from her cook when she visits, and we’ll have a chef after I’ve recovered.”
She shrugged. “I can always mine the air for energy.”
“A useful skill, but I can do better than that. It would be like a human living off the unprocessed vegetables in her garden. You need better than that.”
“I suppose I have a lot to learn before I can function independently in your society,” she mused. She needed to keep him talking, to learn all she could.
He studied her thoughtfully. “I think it’s the little things that will be your biggest hurdle. I’ve studied humans, and there are definite differences.”
She paid careful attention to the way she cut her food. “Oh? I think we’re the same in many ways. We live, eat, have friends and families. The way you behave with your kids seems familiar.”
He touched her arm without warning, making her jump. She stiffened and watched him warily, and he nodded. “Touch. An air elemental touches often. You have careful boundaries that don’t exist with our kind.”
She eased away. “I don’t understand,” she said, but suddenly frowned as she remembered that Blossom was always hugging and “touch talked” a lot. Frost greeted his father with manly hugs, often squeezing his shoulder. They didn’t mind bumping and never apologized for it. They reminded her of an Asian friend she’d had; it had been startling the first time her friend reached for her hand when they shopped. It simply wasn’t done in America, but Gale knew enough about Asian culture that she hadn’t pulled away. She carried her purse on that side for the rest of the excursion, though, uncomfortable with the affection.
She realized that Frost and Blossom had made many aborted gestures like that toward her, and the few times Blossom did touch her, it was tentative. She was probably a hand holder, too.
Argh.
Nitro nodded as he saw her process her thoughts. “You view touch as a possible danger, except from trusted loved ones. We see it as a personal need and social necessity, and our society is very relaxed as a result. We don’t have many of the stresses human and other elementals carry as a result of being constantly on guard. It makes sense; it’s difficult to assault someone who can be insubstantial in an instant.”
“What about personal space? How can you know if someone is coming on to you without boundaries?” Gale demanded. She wasn’t ready to abandon social cues pounded into her brain since childhood.
He smiled. “Those signs are readily apparent. Flirtation involves many senses, has many cues; eye contact, tone of voice, body language, innuendo, vibrations…”
“Wait, vibrations? What do you mean?” The rest were familiar enough, but she’d never heard of the last, unless he meant “getting a vibe”, or a feeling.
He looked into space, idly holding his tea cup. She thought he wasn’t going to answer, until a sudden wave of something washed over her, making her gasp. She sat up straight as her body came to instant attention, bewildered by the fierce sexual arousal. She grasped for words and found nothing.
He smiled mischievously. “That’s a vibration.”
She gulped as it eased, leaving her hyperaware of him, mere inches away. “That’s…pretty obvious stuff. You’re right; I think I’d notice that.”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. When he wiped away tears of mirth, he gasped, “I’d hope so. I wasn’t being subtle.” As the laughter faded, he looked at her with interest. “What do you think? Am I a good teacher?”
A blind woman would have understood his meaning. It took her a moment to recall why she couldn’t act on the attraction between them. “I think I’d better be careful around you,” she answered honestly, still blindsided by the intoxicating lure of pleasure. “I think you’re full of tricks.”
“You don’t trust me?” the question was mild, his gaze, penetrating.
Gale considered subtlety , but the memory of touching his mind that first day made her hesitate. He’d seen everything, had thousands of years of experience in reading people, of ferreting out intrigue. If she tried evasion, he would know. If she lied even once, she’d fling away every scrap of influence she’d built with him. Saving his life would only go so far; he was perfectly capable of treating her as a valued guest who was carefully watched. He would keep her at a distance and she would have no influence whatsoever. She bit her lip.
“What would you like to say?” he coaxed. His expression said he guessed. Had he realized she’d overheard him outside the dojo?
She took a chance. “I think you would do anything for your family. I’m not family, and our priorities may not match. I would hate to disagree on important things.” He might be nice now, but she wasn’t stupid. This man could kill her with his pinkie. He might be polite, even formal, but he had crushing power. Talking with him was like walking on wet ice; slowly, sliding one foot along to test the footing.
He raised his brows, encouraging her to continue.
“I don’t want to see my friends and family hurt, either.” She was intense, showing him how much it mattered. “I have nothing else left. Not even my body is the same, and I can’t tell you how much that freaks me out.” God have mercy, she couldn’t even bleed properly. She brutally shoved the thought back in its box. “All I have is my mind, my training and my loved ones. My allegiance hasn’t changed.”
His expression shuttered. “I see.”
Gale gripped her cup, afraid she’d made a mistake, but she had good instincts. “My heart is human, but I’m willing to adapt.” She took a deep breath to quell her panic at the thought of her new, alien circumstances. “I’m willing to learn how to be an air elemental…” Her head felt suddenly light, and she realized she was experiencing a panic attack. She shoved her plate away and put her head on the counter so she wouldn’t fall over.
“Breathe,” he advised, rubbing her back soothingly. “It will pass.”
It got worse. What brought this on? Suddenly she flashed on the last moments of her human life, when her very identity had been stripped away. They’d killed her special, to leave a body behind. She’d gotten a look at the white, still form before she’d been sucked out of the plane. She’d been dead. Was she even alive now? What was real?
“Shh.” He did something, regulated the air flowing into her lungs, increasing the oxygen. Despite the panic, her breathing evened out.
“Thanks,” she managed after a moment. Her pulse was still fast, but she wasn’t going to pass out.
Nitro nodded. “The flashbacks will ease with time. I understand it helps to talk about them. It’s best to do this when you feel safe, and the feelings will lose power.”
She blew out a disgruntled breath. Great. On top of everything else, she
had PTSD. “Just shoot me.”
He chuckled. “You’ll survive. I suggest the dojo as an outlet for the adrenaline; it will help.
“Meanwhile, I like your suggestion of special studies. It will keep you focused and do you good. We’ll begin tomorrow.”
He didn’t mention her family and she sensed it wasn’t the time to ask.
Sensing she needed distraction, he added, “I will tell my children not to censor their instinct to touch. You need practice before entering society. I would not have you be the object of pity.”
“Pity?” she demanded, offended. “Why would you say that?”
He collected her plate and disposed of the unwanted leftovers. “An air elemental who cannot handle touch would be presumed to be either damaged at birth or the victim of extraordinary violence. If someone sensed your weakness and tried to bait you, you might become angry and possibly dangerous. We don’t want that.”
Gale couldn’t argue with that. She wasn’t the type to take torment lying down. “It wouldn’t do to appear like a target.”
He smiled. “You’re a smart woman. Why don’t you get some rest? We’ll get started in the morning.”
She was exhausted, and she wasn’t going to make any progress tonight. She’d have plenty of time tomorrow to figure out her strategy. He hadn’t said he’d help her protect her family, but he hadn’t said he’d support those who wanted to hurt them. She had time…but how much?
Chapter 3
“I’ve brought your pictures.”
Gale looked up from the bland breakfast she didn’t want as Frost walked into the kitchen. He handed her a paper thin photo of her cat. She frowned, puzzled.
“She’s never seen a picture gallery before,” Nitro advised, looking up from the air elemental version of a tablet computer.
“Oh! Sorry.” Frost took the photo and spread his arms wide, scattering pictures like a card dealer. They floated in the air in orderly rows, hundreds of holograms of her family and friends. “This is how you manipulate them.” He showed her how to divide and organize the stack.
Gale stared, overwhelmed. “Thank you,” she whispered. She gently touched a Christmas picture of her family, her heart aching. The room seemed to be strangely foggy. Expecting tears, she quickly wiped her eyes. The motion made her realize that her body was steaming. “What’s this?” Alarmed, she tried to brush the steam away.
“It’s to be expected. You’re sad,” Frost explained gently. Nitro watched her, silently sympathetic.
She shook her head and backed away from the table, as if that would help her escape the steam. She couldn’t handle this right now. Looking at pictures of her family while having her nose rubbed in her new, alien nature was beyond her. She shook her head sharply and walked away. She was relieved when no one followed.
Frost looked sideways at his father.
“She will recover,” Nitro said stubbornly. “She will adapt.”
Frost studied the picture that had made her cry. He didn’t look convinced.
Nitro found her walking through the snow, outside his former prison. She must have been leaving, for her shoulders were slumped and her steps dragged. She sat on the ground and rested her arms loosely on her knees, staring over the snow.
He didn’t like that she flinched when he sat beside her. She needed to pay closer attention to her security. Fortunately, she never went anywhere without a wolf wind in discreet attendance. He didn’t think she was aware of her escort. “Having a rough day?”
She shrugged.
“The photos are still in the kitchen when you wish to look at them.”
She began to steam and closed her eyes, pained.
“There is always a reason,” he said gently.
“Always a good reason?” she said thickly. “Because I’m not seeing much good right now.”
He sighed. They sat silently and watched the arctic sunset. After a time, he murmured, “You haven’t eaten.”
“Nothing tastes good.”
“Nevertheless,” he chided. He stood and offered his hand.
She was tired and he was right. While there was life there was hope. She gave him her hand and allowed him to lead her home.
Gale was deep in discussion with Nitro as he demonstrated how to shape light rays. After watching her practice, he said she was talented, but she was determined to be a quick study, too. There had never been a more motivated student, and the things he taught her were beginning lessons normally taught to children. She had far more power than a child and was intellectually developed, so it stood to reason she would breeze past the easy lessons.
Since it had plenty of space, they were working in the living area set up in the throne room. A tray of delicacies Blossom’s fancy chef had prepared sat mostly untouched on the low table beside the couch. Gale knew she was too thin, but the food wasn’t appealing. She despaired that food would ever taste good again, and settled for siphoning what she needed from the air. It kept her alive, and was inoffensively bland. She didn’t have to pretend she enjoyed anything they offered that way, and it made it easier to push aside the memories of meals with her family.
Besides, her stomach was too full of anxiety to eat. Depression had numbed her appetite, and she only remembered to feed when she felt weak. She knew she couldn’t keep that up, but food was the last thing on her mind.
The chime that rolled through the palace made her sit up, her ears vibrating.
Nitro looked at the door. “It seems we have visitors.”
She shot him an anxious look. He was much stronger, but he’d been a wreck only days ago. Was he up to this?
He smiled reassuringly. “It’s all right; I knew I would be discovered soon. This is curiosity; they want to know if the rumors are true.”
“I’m not sure I want to meet anyone yet,” she said warily. She’d been isolated for a while, and an influx of strangers didn’t sound like fun.
“You could pretend to be a servant,” he suggested, amused at her shyness.
Perhaps he wasn’t used to seeing her as the nervous type. She liked that, but she took the suggestion seriously. She wanted to fade into the background until she had the lay of the land. “Good idea. I’ll stand over by that column, shall I? Can you make my clothes less…?” She waved her hand, indicating her finery.
He smiled and in moments, she wore a simple gown with a wide, floating scarf to hide her necklace. “Better?”
She nodded and hurried to the column. “Just don’t order anything but tea or cold drinks; that’s all I know how to make.”
Nitro reclined on the sofa, looking utterly relaxed as he waved a hand to open the palace doors. Three air elementals floated in and alighted before the couch. Gale noticed that air elementals rarely walked when they could float.
The lead male was so astonished he forgot to bow. “So it’s true.”
Nitro’s gaze hooded, prompting the man to remember his manners.
The newcomer bowed slightly. He was dressed conservatively, but it was obvious his tunic and clothes were of quality material. He wore a thick gold chain around his neck with a brilliant sea-green gem. “Lord Seabold, of the Seaswept clan,” he introduced himself. He glanced at the man beside him. “My son, Lord Pillar and his wife, Lady Iceflower, of the clan Northfrost.”
Nitro inclined his head. “What can I do for you?”
Seabold’s ice green gaze swept the chamber, noting and dismissing Gale’s presence. “We’ve come to acquaint ourselves with our new neighbor. I understand you were friends with my father.”
There was a steady stream of visitors over the next few days, and the parlor was a constant hub of activity. Since his privacy was already compromised, Nitro hired servants and a cook to attend to his guests, leaving Gale with a dilemma. She didn’t want to mingle with the strangers, so she prevailed on Frost to open portals so that she could visit her family. He had other duties and couldn’t stay with her, so he left a couple of wolf winds with her until he came for her in the evenings.
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Gale watched when her parents scattered her ashes, pained she couldn’t comfort them. She was there for the Fourth of July celebration, watching as her mother choked up as she watched the children play. The volley ball game lasted until two AM, in keeping with the midnight sun that never set. Gale amused herself by sending puffs of wind to toy with the ball, making it land where she willed, but it was halfhearted. She wanted to join her family.
She dragged home at night, tired and unfulfilled, and zoned out in front of the TV. The last thing she wanted was to socialize with strangers. It was difficult to find her usual optimism when she was invisible to her loved ones.
Nitro was no longer amused by Gale’s absences.
“This isn’t healthy,” Blossom said after the last of her father’s guests left for the day. She often played hostess in Gale’s absence. “She can’t isolate herself forever. She’ll sicken.” Social interaction was a necessity for their kind; the wind needed to mix with other currents or risk stagnation; it was essential if they wished to remain healthy. “I think she’s trying to use her human family to fill her needs.” Sadness made her skin faintly misty. She’d come to like Gale, and she was a gentle breeze at heart.
“It’s not our way to force our will on others,” Nitro said grimly. He was concerned as well. Gale wasn’t adapting. He’d found her by the cave on more than one occasion, staring bleakly over the snowfields. It was obvious she grieved.
“You could help her,” Blossom said, low.
Nitro’s cold look silenced her. He knew what she wanted, but he didn’t want to explore that option. He didn’t want anything to do with humans, still raged over his imprisonment. He’d made a mistake, but centuries of isolation had been too high a price. He was strong, but without the ice preserving his body, he’d have perished of loneliness long ago. “There’s more than one approach to her needs.”
Blossom sniffed and looked away angrily. “What will you do? She spends hours daily with you at her “lessons”, and it has done nothing for her.” Her tone was scornful; she knew Nitro was delaying Gale’s progress to further his own ends. She thought him cold and ungrateful and had said so. The fight had kept her away for days.