“Are there vampires here?” I asked. My voice sounded high even to my own ears. Maybe the paranormals who were with us now were trustworthy, but the ones in the crypts might not be. Lanca had warned us that even the Rapiers were untrustworthy.
“There are no vampires in the crypts,” Rake assured me, lumbering over, his large eyes searching my face. I saw nothing but kindness looking back at me and smiled despite my tiredness and my fear.
“Do you need anything?” Rake asked. It took us all a heartbeat to realize that he was talking to Sip. Her eyes widened in surprise before she told him that she was fine.
“Where do the vampires stand now?” I said.
“There are power struggles all the time. Before now there was respect, but after King Daemon’s murder no one trusts anyone else. Lanca’s marriage could have solidified shaky relations with one of the other sects, in fact it would have been a brilliant move on her part, but now. . .” Dobrov explained.
“What happened to everyone else?” I asked softly, scarcely daring to meet my friends’ eyes.
“We’re not sure yet,” said Lisabelle quietly. “We think a lot got out, but . . . we’re just not sure yet.”
“Will Dirr be queen now that Lanca is . . . ?” Lough choked, unable to finish the sentence.
No one answered, but Dobrov just shook his head sadly. Somehow he had managed to avoid any of the blast residue, probably because, as he had explained, he didn’t really care about the coronation and had been standing in the back.
“I think we are past that,” said Dobrov carefully. “The paranormal realm is in chaos. We left before we saw the end result, but it’s entirely possible that the darkness mages, Nocturns, as they’re now styling themselves, are still fighting in the hall. And let me be honest, we have no idea where Dirr is.”
“She must be with Vital,” I murmured. “He wouldn’t leave her if he could help it.”
“He might be dead,” said Lisabelle, rubbing her temples. “We just don’t know.”
“Malle must have a goal.” Dobrov said. “What is it?”
I exchanged looks with my friends, but I wasn’t ready to tell Dobrov that I knew exactly what Malle was after. Besides my death, she wanted the Fang, and she had engineered everything so that she could get it.
“So, what’s the plan?” Rake asked, ignoring Dobrov.
“Rest,” said Keller, coming over. We all turned to look at him. The other paranormals, including Sip’s parents, quieted to listen. He wore respect as easily as most people wore shoes and jackets. It is who he is, I realized. He was raised to lead and he will. I wanted to melt into his arms, but I resisted going to pieces like a love-sick girl. I would never hear the end of it from Lisabelle if I acted that way.
“There’s a paranormal war going on upstairs and one of our - your - best friends was just murdered. And you want to chill in a crypt?” Lisabelle asked, incredulous.
“We have to rest,” Keller repeated, his eyes serious as they flicked to me. When no one said anything Lisabelle took a deep breath, ready to argue, but then Sip stepped in. She looked as tired as I felt.
“Keller is right,” she said. “But are you sure we’re safe down here?” Her pale face filled with worry.
Keller nodded. “Rapier power is strongest here and the Rapiers are on our side. Mostly. Darkness mages would never make it down this far alive.”
“What about, like, pixies?” Lisabelle asked. “They’re not exactly fans of ours, and the little buggers just won’t die.”
“No,” said Keller, “but I don’t think they’ll try it. Not tonight, anyway.”
“Even with Charlotte here?” Lough asked. “We have to keep Charlotte safe.”
I sighed. I didn’t like the fact that that was his goal.
“I should go up,” I said, so tired I was almost swaying. “I don’t know why you brought me down here in the first place.” I glared around at no one in particular.
“Are you joking?” Lisabelle asked incredulously. “Of course we brought you down here. You can’t go back up.”
“I can and I will,” I said, almost frantically. I stared around at my friends, at everyone else who would die protecting me.
“This is not your fight. It’s mine. I can’t have you risking your lives for me. I don’t want to die, but I want you all to die even less.” My voice broke.
Sip shook her head. “Charlotte,” she said, softly coming over, “I’m used to saying this to Lisabelle, but I will say it to you, too. You are totally wrong and missing the point.”
Lisabelle snorted.
“But I will explain it to you,” Sip continued, undaunted. Lisabelle snorted again. Sip ignored her.
“We’re all in this together, trite as that may sound. We always have been, and I have told you that from the beginning. Lanca is dead and she would not want us to sit back idly and watch you die, too. Besides, we have to find out what happened to Dirr and Vital and everyone else.”
My lips quivered. I didn’t want my friends to die, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I hadn’t even touched the loss that was Lanca . . . Lanca . . . gone. The enormity of it was almost overwhelming. My mother’s death was the only time I had ever been sadder.
“They will come to us,” said Keller, rubbing the back of his neck. My fingers itched to rub it for him. “Or tomorrow we will go to them. Either way, tonight we rest and gather our strength. We also have to discuss a plan. It would be easier if we could communicate with Vital, but even without that we have a good idea of what he and Dirr would want.”
“What would they want?” I asked. Keller made it sound like it was obvious, but it was not obvious to me.
Keller’s beautiful blue eyes burned.
“They would want us to kill them all,” he said. “They would expect us to fight.”
“Come on,” Sip cajoled. “Sleep.”
“You really should,” said Professor Zervos, his tone as icy as ever. I stared at my professor. He had a long gash down the side of his cheek and his hair was mussed. His fancy black robes - he was Rapier - were wrinkled and torn; he must have been standing close to the blast that killed his queen, my friend.
Zervos hated me, but I wasn’t thinking about that at the moment. Instead, my heart started to pound.
“Dacer?” It might have been my imagination, but Zervos’ eyes, black pools, softened just a fraction. “Unknown.”
My breath hitched.
“He’s fine,” said Keller, his hand making small circles on my back. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
Others nodded. I knew we had a conversation in front of us; some of the paranormals, faces I didn’t recognize, looked wary of me, or at least of being near me. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised. Instead, I wondered if I would yet be thrown to the demons.
But I decided I wouldn’t think about them right now.
“We don’t know that Dacer is fine,” I said worriedly, forcing air into my lungs as panic threatened to overtake me again.
“We just have to trust that he is,” said Lisabelle. “It’s Dacer, after all. One look at his outfit and the demons wouldn’t know whether to kill him or display him.”
“He’s one of the few people,” said Zervos quietly, “who is just as capable as he seems.”
The conversation turned to other paranormals whose whereabouts were unaccounted for. It was believed that the Committee Members had all left before the worst of the fighting and were headed back to Public, but little information was known about any paranormal who was not already in the crypt.
“We should eat something first anyhow,” said Lough when we had run out of updates to share with each other.
“Who can think of food at a time like this?” Lisabelle muttered. She ate only when she had to. She didn’t have my, or Sip’s, or Lough’s love of food or snacking. She viewed food as fuel and nothing more.
“Who can’t?” Lough demanded, matching the object of his love glare for glare. Lisabelle rolled her eyes and said, “I’m going to
sleep. You guys have fun scavenging for food in crypts.”
Lough wrinkled his nose, having momentarily forgotten where we were. “Maybe I’ll wait until morning.”
Now Saferous, who had apparently joined us when we fled the great hall, came forward. “I’ll find food. I’m not tired, so we’ll have breakfast in the morning.” He never looked at me and it felt intentional, as if he was trying to erase my presence. Still, I was grateful for his offer, and I lay down between Sip and Lisabelle on the hard ground.
A couple of blankets had been found somewhere, but there were no pillows, and as we all lay down the dust whooshed up to fill my nose and mouth. Clearly, sleep was going to be difficult.
I waited for Keller to join me. At Public last semester I had grown used to his spending the nights with me, wrapping his arms around me and helping me forget the world and just focus on what was important - him. Here, he had become protective and concerned for my safety. I thought he had known from the beginning that my life was a series of risks. How could it be otherwise with the last elemental? Then again, how could he have understood that when even I had not?
He didn’t come.
I should have had trouble stopping my mind from spinning, but I quickly fell into a heavy sleep. It would have been better if I could have stayed awake, because I had forgotten that Malle had learned how to enter my dreams, as she did again while I lay safely between Sip and Lisabelle in the crypt.
Her damaged and bruised body stood before me like a challenge.
“So, you got away,” she said, her voice as icy as a river that flows between mountains. “Not for long. You think you’re safe, but you’re not.”
“Who attacked me the other day?” I asked. “Keller and I were locked away. Was it you?”
Malle grinned. “No,” she said. “It wasn’t me. You’re not looking at it from the right perspective. Typical for an elemental not to understand. I shouldn’t expect you to be smart enough to see what is right before your face.”
“Typical for you to lie,” I snapped.
Malle had changed. She had traded her fancy robe for simple black pants and a black turtleneck. It looked like she was trying to cover as much of her body as possible. Her hair was pulled back in the usual severe bun, but it looked grotesque. Clumps were missing, and it was now mostly stringy and gray. I didn’t want to have to look at her for long, but somehow I could not look away.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I said. “You should never have been invited to the coronation.”
“Of course I should have,” she said, shrugging. The motion was slow and jerky, as if her muscles didn’t work properly anymore. I supposed they shouldn’t have, given how much magic she was trying to channel. “It is the only place where I can find what I need.”
We were in the same place as in the last dream, what I thought of as an abandoned library, only this time there were more books strewn on the checkered carpet. I looked down and saw that all around my feet, up to my ankles, were books. Some were old, with bent spines and wear along the covers, while others looked brand new, like they had never been read. Many had pages torn up and crumpled in little piles all around me, and all I could think of was what a waste it was. There was a little more light than last time, and after a while I realized that it was because I was standing directly below a chandelier, the black antlers snaking out like thin arms to hold dying embers aloft.
“You like this place?” Malle asked. “We could go elsewhere. Any number of places to go.”
“If I tell you I like it will you burn it to the ground?” I shot back.
Malle clucked disapprovingly. “No, no, you see, I am not malicious. Merely practical. The paranormals are a disease, therefore you must be wiped out. Sicknesses breed and infect others. I am merely the cure.”
“Yeah,” I shot back. “You look so healthy.”
Malle’s face changed and contorted with my words, but she quickly recovered herself, the lines of fury smoothing out, her eyes subsiding from tempest black to dark pools.
“You are but a child, you do not understand. Sacrifices must be made. I am only too happy to sacrifice if it’s for the good of the whole.”
“You think demons are good for . . . who exactly?” I pretended confusion, trying to buy time. I didn’t think Malle could hurt me here, but I was worried about my body back in the crypt. She must have read the concern on my face, because she smiled, showing rotting teeth.
“I think the demons are already evil, so they can’t do more harm. It’s so sad when a paranormal, a pixie, for example, should be good, and instead only leans toward evil.”
I remembered the story of Malle’s family being murdered after having been tortured, and I understood more clearly than ever that her hatred was ingrained in her, as physical a part of her as the blood in her veins.
There was no reasoning with crazy.
Looking at Malle in this dream space, I tried to remember what had made me so angry in the hall, besides Lanca’s death and Malle’s demand that I die. Finally I remembered.
“You leave Ricky out of this,” I said. There was no point in not mentioning him. She already knew he existed, and she had already threatened his life. “He’s just a kid.”
Malle shook her head. “Sacrifices must be made. I cannot risk it.”
“But my mother was Airlee,” I said desperately. “Airlee is not a threat. Only elemental is.”
“Exactly,” said Malle. “You must remember, parentage is a complicated thing. It’s difficult to know who really sired a child, and as long as the risk is there it is one I refuse to take. As I have said, sacrifices must be made in order for the demons to rule. The paranormals must die.”
My throat worked, but nothing came out. I hated the idea of Ricky being in danger, but I hated even more having to listen to Malle’s crazy rantings.
“Look,” I said, “no offense, but your whole ‘take over the world’ philosophy is getting old. I’m busy trying to stay alive because you have, for no good reason, made it your life mission to kill me. So can you stop wasting my time with your ranting and get to the point?”
For once in my life I had a set goal for an interaction: I was trying to make Malle mad, and boy did it work. It worked a bit too well, in fact, but I consoled myself with the idea that Lisabelle would be proud of me.
Fury lit Malle’s face as the books all around us burst into flames. I heard the crackling of fire and the spark of heat as she ignited every piece of paper in the library. Her face contorted like a wrung out dish cloth as she raised her arms up, drawing the flames higher.
I should have felt fear, but I didn’t. I was past that. Lanca’s death had taken every last bit of emotion out of me. I was pure sensation now, and all my energy was directed at fighting.
“Fine,” she hissed. “I tried to reason with you, to help you understand that we are both actors playing on a stage, and that this is all for the greater good, but you refuse to understand. I wash my hands of you.”
Wasn’t that what she was doing when she tried to kill me? I thought. Then the flames were licking up my legs, and the library disappeared. I awoke with a tiny scream in a dark, cold space. Two bodies, one much closer than the other, were cuddled around me. I looked at my sleeping friends, sweat dripping down the sides of my face, my breathing labored. They looked peaceful, and I wondered if I had looked that way too while I listened to the tale of my own demise.
“Go to sleep,” said Lisabelle, glaring at me in the darkness.
It was hard to go back to sleep when I had no idea what time it was or how much of the night had passed. For all I knew it had been days or minutes. I didn’t like it, but I did what my friend told me to do.
I tossed myself back down on the hard ground.
“Don’t let her take away your rest,” Lisabelle whispered in my ear. “It’s all we have.”
I fell asleep again. This time I didn’t dream.
I woke up to fingers diggings into my shoulder.
�
�Charlotte?” Keller’s voice was in my ear, but I didn’t want to wake up. Normally it was Mrs. Swan who woke me, but she was one of the very few paranormals who had stayed away from the coronation. As she had said, someone had to take care of Public and she wasn’t especially social anyway.
“Go away,” I grumbled.
He chuckled softly. “Say that to the demons.”
I opened my eyes, remembering everything. A shot of anger boiled through my blood at Keller for reminding me of Malle’s demand that I die, but once my eyes landed on his tired face I quieted. The dark circles under his eyes were so pronounced it almost looked like someone had smudged charcoal under them. His lips were pulled tight with tension.
“What’s wrong?” I murmured, putting my hand to the side of his face. He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t look grateful at the touch either, and a seed of hurt planted itself in my belly and stayed there. Keller was my rock. I didn’t have a mother or a father to turn to, and although it was true that I had Sip and Lisabelle, without Keller’s support added to theirs I would be nothing.
“Nothing,” he sighed and broke the contact. The seed of hurt grew. “We don’t have much time.”
I glanced at my friends, still sleeping, and nodded. I pushed the blankets off my legs, grateful to get off the hard floor, and followed Keller. All the other paranormals were still asleep.
Keller led me deeper into the crypt and I tried not to think about what usually lay in the coffins. At least it was not dead paranormals, but it gave me the uncomfortable feeling that my mother was in something like these confined spaces, deep in the ground. I couldn’t reach her, and that would never change. The panic started to well up again at the idea that thousands of paranormals were, at this moment, plotting my murder, and possibly Ricky’s as well.
I reached out and took Keller’s hand.
Elemental Dawn (Paranormal Public) Page 18