A Time to Die (Elemental Rage Book 2)

by Jeanette Raleigh

  Aunt Bertha felt the Earth welcome her grand-nieces into her arms. Amy said she’d passed the gift of Time on, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe she still carried it. Aunt Bertha was tired, exhausted. She had to get out of bed before the Death Keeper rang the doorbell. There was no law that said she had to answer the door, but she didn’t relish the idea of a Death Keeper thinking he might have an empty house.

  Groaning, Aunt Bertha lifted her head from the pillow. Her hands trembled. That was when Bertha first felt truly old, not just that she was on her way to old, but ancient. Her hands trembled. She steeled herself for that first jolt when she pushed off from the bed with a grunt. The cane kept her upright.

  The way she wobbled, Bertha knew it wouldn’t be too long now that she’d be bedridden. She hated to do that to Amy and the girls. Maybe next week she should check into the nursing home in town. Bertha dreaded the moment when she entered a facility like that.

  She was halfway down the hall when the doorbell rang, “Just a moment,” Bertha called.

  Aunt Bertha was too tired to talk to her Elements. She had a vague notion that Harold waited for her at the door. Not her favorite Death Keeper in the world, but at least he understood old age. Maybe he wouldn’t keep her too long.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, she tottered down the hall, certain at any moment that she would step too far in one direction or the other and break a hip, although the prevailing notion now was that old folks broke their hips first and then fell. Aunt Bertha wasn’t up to trying either method, thank you very much.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Hold onto your whiskers. I’m coming,” Aunt Bertha groused.

  The house must have been a kilometer long. Opening the door, Aunt Bertha wasn’t a bit surprised to see Harold. But she sure could act, “Harold! What brings you so far out this way?”

  Bertha didn’t invite Harold in. That urban legend about not inviting vampires applied to other creatures as well. It didn’t do to open the door to any old thing, especially a Death Keeper who was an enemy, even if a polite one.

  Harold stepped by Bertha anyway. So he wasn’t a vampire or a creature held back by lack of invitation. Not that Bertha was shocked, but it would have been easier to keep him out if he had been.

  Harold said, “Bertha, you’re not here all alone, are you? Where are the girls? I heard about your misfortune and wanted to see if you needed anything. I can’t imagine they would leave you here alone.”

  Misfortune covers a lot of ground, a nice general term that could apply to Amy going missing or ‘visiting relatives’ as the story went, Raven’s hospitalization, or Bertha supposed, her own illness, although she had been very discrete. No one in town should know a thing.

  Bertha decided to be vague in her own way, “I’m afraid the girls are all out. I’m quite fine on my own as you can see.”

  Harold was halfway into the living room now. Bertha stayed right there next to the door because it would have been rude to enter a person’s house too deeply when the person you are visiting is right at the door. She figured a perch by the door would keep Harold tethered.

  She figured wrong.

  Instead of standing near Bertha, Harold wandered the living room. Seeing her chair, he said, “Would you feel more comfortable in your arm chair or in bed.”

  Bertha was so tired she could hardly take another step, but she sure wasn’t going to admit that to Harold, much less give him leave to walk the house. She said, “No. Sir. I’m as fit as a fiddle, fine as a violin.”

  Harold swung by the couch in his pacing and back to the door where Bertha was leaning, pretending a strength she lost with the cancer. She could just imagine telling the girls, “Yes. Harold outstood me to death. I told him I was fine and then bam, he treated me like a nice guest talking to me for hours. No one was more surprised than me when I collapsed..”

  No one was more surprised than Bertha when Harold held his arm out to Bertha and said, “I know better than anyone what is happening to you. I’ll walk you back to bed and let myself out. This isn’t the time for a visit, ey?”

  Harold showed no sign of leaving. Bertha realized that it would be better just to let him see the hall and see her room. She didn’t have anything wonderful or magical stored in there. All of her artifacts had long ago been passed down or destroyed. With a sigh, she took his arm.

  Bertha allowed herself to be led to the bedroom. She was savvy enough to know that Harold was up to something. It gave her a giggle. What would she do to stop anyone from tossing the house, stealing the jewelry, and breaking the furniture? Aunt Bertha was lucky she had an escort back to bed. Just walking down the hall had taken its toll. Bertha sighed. When had she gotten so weak? When had she gotten so old?

  Harold waited while she sat on the edge of the bed, even helped her lift her feet. It was a comfortable feeling, her head hitting the pillow. Seeing Harold hovering over her bed sure wasn’t.

  “I know you’re not here to check on me. What do you really want?” Bertha wasn’t one to dance around a subject.

  Bertha heard a sinister glee in Harold’s reply. That was when she knew she was in trouble. “I heard you were out here alone and just wanted to check on you,” Harold said. He grabbed a pillow from the bottom of the bed, “I think I should call your nieces. You’re looking peaked.”

  Bertha smiled. It was a smile of tired acceptance, an acknowledgement that he had won something from her. Perhaps he would check them all for the Gift, perhaps he would even find it, but she was an Elemental, true in her heart, and even dying of cancer with her enemy at her bedside, Bertha refused to be cowed, refused to show fear.

  Instead, warmth embraced her. Not an Element this time, which surprised Bertha. What was this strange feeling?

  Her glasses were on the bedside table. What she wouldn’t give to see Harold’s expression right now. His voice slithered with darkness and she was so tired that the idea of fighting him did not appeal. His machinations could beat against Diana’s will only so far. They were mortal, one and all. Bertha would fear nothing, not on her deathbed. She certainly would not fear Harold.

  So he thought she should call her ‘girls’. Bertha answered, “You’re as bad as they are, wanting to hire a babysitter for me. I’m just fine on my own. When it comes to needing help, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, the kids are busy doing their own thing. They don’t need an old lady like me ruining their fun.”

  “Fun,” Harold snorted. He stepped toward the bed. “You don’t even know where they are, do you? Your nieces broke Amy free. Of course, they needed a little help. Petrodus. Remember him? Greatest enemy of the Elementals. Serial killer. Rapist. All around ‘good guy’.” He practically spit the last words.”

  “Petrodus?” Aunt Bertha stared into the vague fuzzy form of her enemy.

  “You wouldn’t come to me for help. You wouldn’t trust me to set her free. Instead you go to one of the great evils.”

  Oh, that’s why he’s here. Bertha thought. As she turned his words over in her head, Bertha realized that she really shouldn’t have been involved in advising the girls. Her pain had urged her with an anxiousness that overrode commonsense. She lied to protect the two hiding even now in the bowels of Earth’s heart.

  She said, “You’re right. I have no idea where they went or why. Ever since I told them I was dying they treat me like an invalid. Do you know? Are they safe?” She hoped the question sounded sincere. Bertha knew her girls were safe. She only hoped Mindy and Claire stayed hidden. Even if the Death Keepers were sure she had the Gift of Time, eventually they’d be on the hunt again.

  Best to keep the girls far away from men like Harold.

  “Yes. They are safe. For now.” Harold stepped forward.

  The blurred face became clear. Harold stared at her, holding the pillow in both hands. It was the first time Bertha got the slightest inkling of what Harold had in mind. He continued, “You, however, are in serious danger.”

  Bertha felt the pillow press against her face.
The pillow carried the scent of lavender. The smell she loved choked her. Even as she was suffocating, she thought, With my cancer and being eighty, I would have expected this to go a little faster.

  She wasn’t afraid. She thought she would be. Bertha had been terrified when she found out about the cancer, terrified at the thought of that final journey, but right now, in this moment, even though her hands were clutching Harold’s wrists, even while she weakly fought to remove the pillow from her face, she knew that it was time. The air grew increasingly thin with each passing moment. Dizzy, her head hurt and stars danced across her vision.

  She heard the Universe speak to her, Bertha, come.

  She let go, and then she was somewhere else.

  “Oh, I know you.” Bertha said to the fine young man who met her in the light. He had gray at his temples. He had been at the ceremony where she supposedly gave up her power.

  Zach’s father nodded, “I think you do. Matt, from the oath meeting. Are you ready?”

  Bertha took his hand. She said, “You know this death isn’t natural. Harold just murdered me. I’m not sure why. It’s not as if I agreed to pass my power to him directly. I could see the greed in his soul. I was too careful to do it any other way.”

  Matt didn’t smooth over his startled look in time. It was too bad Bertha couldn’t tell Jade. It would be nice to declare to the Gray family that Zach’s father had definitely not been involved in Harold’s evil, even if he was a Death Keeper, that he was surprised at Harold’s hand in her death.

  It was time to say goodbye. Her family, long dead, were waiting. Bertha released Matt’s hand and walked into the light where her sister waited.

  ~~ Mindy ~~

  Earth rumbled.

  Water streamed tears through the mud, crying for the lost Elemental.

  Water and Earth blocked Mindy and Claire, an attempt to prevent them from seeing the evil that killed their aunt.

  But Mindy saw anyway. Time would have it no other way.

  Horrified, Mindy witnessed the pillow coming down over Bertha’s head, her fingers wrapped around Harold’s wrist.

  “Claire. Claire. Claire. Claire.” Mindy whispered into Earth’s embrace, trying to find her sister in all that Water.

  “Shhhhh…” The water gurgled.

  Mindy cried.

  She didn’t have the words to tell the story.

  Still, she felt the loss.

  Aunt Bertha.

  Gone.

  “Help me,” Mindy whispered. She was begging for someone to stop Harold, to save Aunt Bertha before it was too late. Mindy struggled to push her energy into Earth, to force the rocks to swallow Aunt Bertha and Harold and save her the way she had with the vampires.

  If only she hadn’t used so much power last night with Raven. Mindy didn’t have the words for all of this. She only knew that her struggles to save Aunt Bertha were fruitless.

  She didn’t understand death, only that Aunt Bertha was no longer at home with herself

  The only answer she got back was, It was her Time.

  “Noooooo.” Mindy cried out.

  Claire’s voice came through Water. “What’s wrong?”

  “Bert” Mindy said. Sometimes she didn’t bother with Bertha’s whole name, especially when she was upset.

  Claire was still water and her voice echoed and splashed because at that moment she was more Element than human. “Mindy, what is it? Water? Show me.”

  Water knew better. Harold was still in the house. He was tearing books out of bookshelves, pulling sheets off of beds, dumping the potted plant on the sill on the floor, screaming his rage at the trick Bertha had played on him. Not a single strand of power, not an Element added to his power or knowledge upon her death. She wasn’t the first he had taken. He knew the sweet taste of power pulled from a dying Elemental.

  Water hushed Claire. We must stay hidden.

  “Why? What is happening?” Claire asked, splashing water all over Earth’s walls. The cave was big enough for Mindy and Claire, but it felt small now that Claire was upset.

  Mindy knew. How could Claire not see it?

  Harold hurt Aunt Bertha. That was the first thing. Mindy tried to make Earth roar, tried to make him stop, but Earth held her tight and said, No, Mindy. We’ll fight after you’ve rested. He’ll kill you.

  “Help me,” Mindy cried. She knew that with Earth and Water’s help she could have saved Aunt Bertha. Her heart hurt that Earth would fight so hard to stop her.

  Earth was ancient and wise in her millennium. Even if they shook Harold to pieces, Bertha had been too weak. She died before Mindy started watching. Harold was holding the pillow over Bertha’s head, but Bertha was no longer there. Her spirit already fled. Earth knew this even if Mindy thought there was hope.

  Mindy watched as Harold smashed the television, yanking the cords out of the wall and throwing it against the coffee table. He opened the cupboards and smashed every breakable dish they had, leaving the kitchen floor a glittering minefield of shards.

  She hated him when he picked up Pebbles. Earth held her, Stop watching.

  But Earth wasn’t that strong, not compared to some, not compared to Time.

  Mindy watched until Harold left, her own rage so strong that she was shaking with it even while the tears that filled her eyes refused to fall.

  ~~ Claire ~~

  Claire couldn’t see anything, and Mindy wasn’t sharing. Water wouldn’t tell her what was happening either, only that the Death Keepers were in the house. Claire splashed through the house and out to the pond. As she dribbled down the bank, a thought occurred to her. She would ask Diana.

  Diana gave the power to the Elementals and intelligence to the Elements. If anyone could tell Claire why Earth and Water stopped helping, it would be Diana. Of course, Claire had never asked, and she wasn’t sure of her reception. It was a bit like walking up to a king and expecting him to give you directions to the mall.

  But Diana smiled on the Elementals. That was where the power came from, so maybe she would listen, maybe she would help.

  Claire asked, speaking to the Demigod who created Elements and Elementals, who drew Earth’s fire to the surface and poured heat over the coldest mountains, who touched the clouds and threaded water in a tapestry of rain and snow to cover the Earth in a veil of life, who blew the gentle breezes that teased the blades of grass or tossed trees with the force of a gale. She brazenly asked for what she needed. She was an Elemental.

  Claire said, “Diana, I know you’re busy. We’ve been going through a lot here what with the vampires, and Mom being kidnapped and all. Can you tell me why Water won’t let me see inside the house? Tell me what is happening with all of this.”

  Perhaps her request was too broad. Perhaps she asked for too much. Diana answered. When Diana answered, it was like a movie playing in her head, clearly and cleanly.

  Claire saw a woman who looked like she belonged to the Gray family with her black hair, but her eyes were brown and her tan Mediterranean. Claire watched the love this woman had for the Earth, for Fire, for Air, for Emptiness, for Gravity. Diana’s favorite, the nymph lived and loved in a quiet world untouched by evil, sheltered in a quiet place apart from the battles of the world, protected from the evils that men can do.

  Until Petrodus.

  Claire was too young. No parent nor guardian would ever allow her to see the events that unfolded upon this poor woman, but the Gods are not censors nor parents, and Claire watched the event as it unfolded, seeing an attack on Diana’s chosen that made her weep.

  The woman lived in a quiet house apart from the village with her two young daughters and a beloved husband whose heart was broken by the evil that dragged her into an early grave.

  Petrodus did things to her, things that hurt Claire’s mind. The woman saw him use powers that the Death Keepers hid in the modern age, the wolf change, the ability to move through time and space. For that, Claire’s ancestor was raped and murdered, her body chopped to bits and buried in a dozen grav
es in an attempt to hold the powers she commanded at bay. Feeling sick to her soul, Claire watched while Petrodus passed his power of the Wolf to other Death Keepers. Harold was among them, but it was at least a thousand years ago.

  When Harold’s change from wolf to human was complete, the vision changed and Claire watched while Harold murdered Wayne, a man she had a crush on for a little while. Claire tried to splash away from Diana, to run from the vision that held her in its grip, but the vision didn’t stop. Not yet.

  Tears mingled with Water when Claire saw Harold murder Bertha. She thought maybe she could still save her, but Diana said with a booming voice in her mind, “No. She’s already gone.”

  “Stop!” Claire begged, “Please stop.”

  But Diana wasn’t done.

  She said, “Watch.”

  Harold drove to his house in town. Petrodus was waiting. Claire felt an alien emotion akin to anger, but so much more bitter and so much bigger than she had ever felt before. It belonged to Diana. The gods don’t always forgive. They don’t always forget. And Diana was angry over an injustice never repaid in full.

  Diana admonished Claire, “Pay attention.”

  Claire focused on listening to what Harold and Petrodus said. Petrodus asked, “Did the witch have it?”

  Harold shook his head, “No, the old woman lied. We didn’t have to kill Wayne.”

  It sounded almost like an accusation. Petrodus turned, lifted an eyebrow, and in that feral stare, Claire could believe that he would kill Harold at the slightest turn.

  “Could it have gone to someone else?” Petrodus pressed.

  “I’m next in line after Wayne. The gift should have passed to you as the greatest among the Death Keepers, but if not you, then me. I don’t think she ever had it. We were tricked.”