Elemental Dawn (Paranormal Public)

by Edwards, Maddy

  “Are you ready?” Dobrov materialized out of nowhere, right next to the wall.

  “Are you going to blast us out?” I asked. “I don’t see a door here.”

  Dobrov turned to the wall and reached out with one hand, lightly running his fingers along the jagged edges. While we waited, Lisabelle turned to me.

  “Are you and Keller going to be okay?” Lisabelle whispered to me, glancing back toward where the meeting was taking place.

  I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Are you and Lough?”

  “What does that mean?” Lisabelle demanded. Before I could tell her that it meant Lough was going to be furious with us - especially Lisabelle, with whom he was not so secretly in love - for leaving him behind, Dobrov turned around.

  “Let’s go,” he said. Even the back of his neck was red and burned. His hand still rested on solid rock. He didn’t appear to have done anything at all.

  “Maybe you don’t realize how this works,” said Sip. “Understandable, you are just a Starter and probably didn’t have Inanimate Moving Magic yet.”

  “Have you?” Lisabelle interjected with amusement.

  Sip shrugged. “Details. I borrowed Micky’s book when he took it and read along with him for fun.”

  “You should put fun in quotation marks when you say that,” said Lisabelle.

  “Ladies,” said Dobrov, “as much as I enjoy your banter, we really must be going.”

  Both my friends looked at him with surprise. I felt sure no one had ever called Lisabelle a lady before. At least not without getting punched.

  “Put your hand over mine,” he told me. I started forward, but Lisabelle’s arm in my chest stopped me.

  “No, no,” said Lisabelle, her eyes cold. “She’s not doing that.”

  “I know our classmates think my touch is poisonous,” said Dobrov softly, “but surely you don’t think they’re right.” He was doing his best not to show it, but I could tell the idea hurt.

  Lisabelle did her best eye roll. “No, I know better. I just mean that Charlotte isn’t going first. I am.”

  Understanding dawned on Dobrov’s scared face. “You don’t trust me.”

  “I only trust two people,” said Lisabelle. “They are to my left and my right.”

  “Actually, I’m behind you,” said Sip, standing up on her tiptoes.

  “Bless the darkness WHATEVER,” said Lisabelle with exasperation.

  “Put your hand over mine,” said Dobrov, Lisabelle’s insult not ruffling him in the least. “We don’t have much time.”

  He was right. The sound of voices behind me was dying down and I wondered how long it would be before Keller or Lough came looking for us.

  Lisabelle didn’t hesitate. I had to stifle a gasp. She disappeared into nothingness.

  “Now you,” said Dobrov, nodding to me. “She’s fine. I promise.”

  “We know,” said Sip, moving to stand next to me. “You would already be dead, otherwise.”

  Sip and I quickly followed our friend. We found ourselves in a dark passageway, but we didn’t have any time to take in the details because Dobrov immediately set a punishing pace.

  “Just don’t look to your left or right,” he advised as we moved. “They’ll know we’re gone soon enough anyway.”

  “Why?” Sip asked, but the question quickly answered itself. Strewn along the dark hallway were bodies. Every type of paranormal was represented, except that there were few pixies. My stomach rolled and lurched. I hadn’t realized how many were dead.

  “Don’t look at the faces,” said Dobrov quickly from over his shoulder. “I think they tried to get down here to attack you. At least some of them. Others were probably killed by darkness mages.”

  “No problem,” Sip muttered, covering her mouth and nose. The stench as we passed each body made my stomach turn.

  “What if one is Dacer?” I asked, almost too weak to speak. “I should find him.”

  “It’s not,” said Dobrov. “If Professor Dacer were dead we would have heard about it.”

  “Dacer probably would have told us himself,” said Lisabelle, walking in front of us next to Dobrov. “Complete with a list of floral arrangements he wanted at his funeral.”

  “Where are we going, anyway?” Sip asked me. Dobrov seemed to already know.

  “Lanca’s father’s study,” I said grimly. “If there are clues to where the Fang is, they will be there.”

  “Oh, good,” said Sip. “I was worried that we’d be looking for a secret room that no one knew the location of.”

  “I know how to get there,” said Lisabelle. “Lanca knew I’d be able to find my way back. Remember that the next time you hide my Tattoos For Beautiful People Magazine.”

  “It really should read, Tattoos for Beautiful People And Lisabelle,” said Sip, and then giggled uncontrollably at her own joke until we passed the next body. That sobered her.

  “See what I have to deal with?” I asked Dobrov jokingly. The hybrid’s shoulders shook with laughter. “I don’t envy you.”

  It didn’t take Lisabelle long to get us to King Daemon’s study. The entrance was hidden in much the same way as the door Dobrov had taken us through to get out of the crypt.

  “Do you think they’ve noticed that we left?” I said, thinking of how furious Keller would be when he realized I had put myself at risk this way. I imagined his blue eyes blazing and his lips in a thin white line. I felt awful causing him any pain, but it was necessary.

  “Yup,” said Lisabelle with satisfaction. “Fireworks will shortly follow.”

  Lisabelle went through the hidden doorway first. Dobrov seemed to know how to break us through solid walls. Once again he didn’t hesitate, helping Sip and me through next. The minute I was in King Daemon’s study, though, I knew there was something wrong.

  “Lisabelle,” I said in the darkness. “This is bad.” The air felt stuffy and I could smell sweat and the tangy aroma of dirt, as if unwashed bodies had spent too long as time in this space. I turned my head back and forth, trying to catch any light, but there was none. I couldn’t see my three companions or anything else.

  Then I felt the press of metal to the sensitive part of the skin under my chin.

  “What tipped you off?” Lisabelle asked, her voice soft, as if she was trying not to move. “The knife at your throat?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Lisabelle?” Vital’s voice came out of the darkness. “Of course you would. Don’t you understand the concept of privacy?” He sounded more exasperated than angry.

  “Just her own,” said Sip, dryly. “Can whoever has a knife at my throat please, you know, not? Unless you are trying to kill us, in which case I am afraid I’m going to have to beat you up.”

  “Oh, goodness, I am so sorry,” came another voice, somehow feminine yet still male.

  “Dacer!” I cried. Ignoring my own captor, I flung myself in the direction of my mentor’s voice. As I tumbled through the air the lights came on to illuminate King Daemon’s study, but I didn’t bother looking around. Instead I simply buried my face in Dacer’s shoulder.

  The knife he was holding fell to the floor with a hard clatter and Dacer wrapped his arms around me, murmuring incoherently in my ear.

  “Of course you’re okay,” he said, laughing while he nearly cried. “Thank the day.”

  I pulled back to look at him. “How are you so clean?” I asked in wonder. His clothing was perfectly pressed and there wasn’t a spot of dirt on him anywhere. He no longer wore the vampire ceremonial robes, but had somehow found the time to change into a plain white shirt. His pants still held color, though: sunbursts and lilies against a blue sky.

  “Is that really a fighting outfit?” Sip asked, raising one nearly white eyebrow skeptically.

  Dacer looked down his long nose at her. “I’m always ready to fight, young werewolf. Appearances can be deceiving. If only others had followed my lead.” He eyed Vital critically.

  “Some of us were busy,” said Vital. The v
ampire bodyguard looked tired, but his eyes still burned. There were cuts on his hands and arms and a bruise the size of a fist had formed on his jaw. His black hair was coming loose from his ponytail and his shirt had a reddish streak drying on it. I had a feeling I knew what it was. I quickly looked away.

  “Dacer stashed a change of clothes here a long time ago. He was ready for this eventuality.” The quiet voice came from King Daemon’s chair. I turned in surprise as the chair spun around, having thought that Vital and Dacer were alone in the study.

  Queen Lanca stared back at me out of a pale face. The lines around her eyes were pinched and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her white dress was covered in blast residue and ripped to reveal the white silk pants she wore underneath. There was not a scratch on her, but she had the same telltale signs of blood on her dress that Vital had, as if she had cradled a dying paranormal..

  “Queen Lanca.” Dobrov, quiet until that moment, gave a deep bow of respect.

  “Dobrov,” she murmured, inclining her head. “Thank you for bringing my friends to me.”

  “Of course,” said Dobrov. “I would say it is my pleasure, but it is a mixture of that and duty.”

  “I understand,” said Lanca, still in that quiet and restrained voice. There was a slight rasp, as if she had been crying - or screaming. “I respect the sacrifices you are making.” Dobrov nodded once, and I wondered what exactly she was talking about. But more than that, I wondered if she was real. I had no idea what was going on, but Lisabelle did.

  “So, Dirr died?” Lisabelle asked, her eyes filled with sadness and something that looked remarkably like sympathy.

  Lanca’s lower lip trembled slightly and Vital gave Lisabelle a ferocious glare.

  “We have to know,” said Lisabelle. “We have to find the Fang and we have to get out of here.”

  “Dirr died,” Lanca confirmed, “protecting me. She didn’t understand that I was the one who . . . who . . . was supposed to protect her.” I now saw Lanca as a puzzle, very delicately held together and as if the least little wind or bump could shatter her into a thousand pieces.

  Sip moved fast. Vital didn’t stop her. The werewolf wrapped her tiny arms around Lanca and held on. After a brief struggle the queen let her friend hold her, but she still didn’t cry. Vital looked away. I had the distinct feeling that Sip was doing something that he desperately wanted to do himself but could not.

  “Oh, Lanca,” I breathed.

  “She was always trying to protect everyone,” said Lanca, shaking her head angrily. “I told her we could take care of ourselves. Even you . . .” She pointed toward me and I started.

  “What do you mean? When did she protect me?” I asked.

  “She locked you and Keller in the basement,” Lanca explained, dabbing at her eyes with a black handkerchief. “She only told me right before the coronation. I was going to tell you afterward. She felt bad about it and didn’t really think it through, but she was hoping you would be stuck down there for days. I told her that you had paranormals protecting you and that drawing you away from them was actually dangerous. But she was so stubborn, it was hard to make her listen. She also stopped at Sip’s on the way back to Locke after dad died, just to check on the three of you. She said she gave you all a fright, but she was too shy to come forward. Little idiot.”

  “I wondered about that,” said Lisabelle thoughtfully. “I had thought that if Charlotte were in danger she would have been hurt, but she wasn’t. Sip’s house also makes sense. The presence I sensed was not hostile.”

  “It was Dirr,” said Lanca. Her eyes moist. “Trying to help. Always trying to help.” She choked on a sob and buried her face in Sip’s shoulder. Vital started forward, then stopped, looking on helplessly.

  “Dacer,” I murmured. “Did Faci kill Dirr?”

  Dacer nodded soberly. “He was aiming for Lanca, of course, but Dirr saw the danger and stepped in front. Little idiot. Faci, or Castov, also killed King Daemon or at least tipped the demons off so that they could kill him. It is the only explanation.”

  “She should have let me do it,” Vital growled. “We saw Faci at the same moment. She shoved me out of the way. She had no right to protect my life. My life is worth nothing in comparison.”

  “Wouldn’t she just have become queen?” I asked. “Sacrificing one princess for another?”

  “She didn’t think herself fit to rule,” said Lanca. “You have to make hard choices as queen, take hard lines and have a backbone of steel. At least that’s how my dad raised us. But that wasn’t Dirr. At heart, Dirr was sweet and good.”

  “What happened to Dove and Oliva and Keller’s aunt?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they be with you?” I had thought maybe they had stayed to fight after all.

  As Dobrov had said, most of the senior paranormals had left at the time of the battle, but the halls made it clear that many paranormals hadn’t escaped. While we had been safely in the crypt, a massacre had taken place at Locke. I wasn’t sure I would ever forget the stench of rotting flesh.

  “They went back to Public,” Dacer confirmed. “They wanted to get the school ready in case. . . .”

  “In case it is attacked?”

  “If you die it will be attacked,” said Dacer, his eyes serious. “If you live it is less likely.”

  “Then you would think they would be here trying to protect me,” I said dryly.

  “Paranormals can only do so much,” said Dacer, running his fingers through his hair. “They didn’t know where you were, and the thought was that a large group isn’t always optimal. You’re a bigger target when you move around with many. When it’s just the trio, or as I have started to call you the triumvirate, it’s easier. Also, Professor Erikson thought that surely her nephew, your boyfriend, would convince you to do the safe thing and leave. She knows nothing of the objects of the wheel.”

  “I shouldn’t have involved you in that,” said Lanca, her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. The Fang is mine to protect. I think that’s partly what Dirr was thinking. She knew that I knew where the Fang was, and that I could protect it. She didn’t have the same confidence in herself.”

  “That has all worked out so well,” said Lisabelle. “If only Charlotte weren’t so hard-headed.” Before Sip could say anything Lisabelle waved a hand at her. “I know, I know. You blame me. What else is new.”

  “Not much,” said Sip, straight-faced.

  “So, you have the Fang?” I asked Lanca, intense relief flooding me. I had had visions of a quest through Locke, tripping over bodies and avoiding the paranormals Malle had sent to kill me, and all of it a waste of time because Malle had already found the Fang.

  “I know where it is,” said Lanca, nodding. “It is safe.”

  “So, we can all go home,” said Sip, clapping her hands together. “Wonderful.”

  “No,” said Lanca. “We can’t go home until Faci is dead.”

  “Yeah, that’s right, why are you hiding here?”

  “Because Castov has turned the Rapiers against me. The only way I can get their respect back is to challenge Faci and win,” Lanca explained. “I am queen. Now I have to earn it.”

  “Couldn’t one of us kill him for you?” Lisabelle offered. “I would rather enjoy that.”

  Lanca shook her head. “Normally it isn’t the queen’s duty. She would appoint a surrogate.” Her eyes flicked to Vital, but she didn’t say anything. “However, he killed my sister. There is no forgiving that.”

  “Alright,” I said. “The Fang is safe. Let’s go.”

  “Oh, no,” said Lanca. “This is not your fight. Faci might have tried to kill me to gain power, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you. President Malle should never have been here. I should never have allowed her at Locke. You’ve spent enough time with your life at risk. You should go to Public and start the semester.”

  “No way,” I said firmly. “I’m seeing this through. Dirr was my friend too and I need to show the darkness mages and the Rapiers who have gone
over to their side that I’m not afraid of them.”

  “Big words,” said Lisabelle, rubbing her hands together. “I like it. Let’s go fight.”

  It wasn’t hard to find Faci and the Rapiers who followed him. He was still at the top of Locke, no doubt plotting how to kill Lanca, since she wouldn’t marry him. To say that he was surprised to see us was an understatement.

  “This might not have been such a good idea,” said Sip, looking around. There were at least thirty vampires, not to mention a couple of other paranormals who could only be darkness mages. I saw one pixie, but she was trying to hide.

  “Sorry, we’re not going to talk about this,” said Lanca as Faci came forward with a smirk. Without another second’s warning, Lanca raised her arms. Faci shouldn’t have waited until after she was crowned to kill her. She now had the full weight of the Rapiers’ ancient royal powers behind her.

  Faci wore a black hat over his bald head and his clothes were unwrinkled. He had even taken the time to shower at some point since he had heartlessly murdered Lanca’s sister. He stood with his feet apart and his hands at his sides, confident and relaxed. His sunken eyes were alight with triumph.

  Lanca grew before my eyes. Her arms lengthened and she grew taller and more imposing. Her eyes, almost black, widened until there were no pupils left.

  Faci paused for a split second.

  It was a mistake, but I could no longer watch. Other vampires and darkness mages were coming after us.

  The battle would be a bloodbath. Lisabelle and Sip closed in on either side of me, while Dacer came forward.

  Vital looked to his queen.

  “Vital,” Lanca said, never taking her cold eyes away from Faci. “Don’t worry about me. It is not my day to die.”

  I hadn’t realized how many darkness mages had stayed to fight, but now that they all stood together, black power emanating from them, their wands raised in readiness, I saw that we were hopelessly outnumbered. There were only seven of us; there were at least fifty of them. I looked for a familiar face, but the only one I recognized was Daisy. She lounged toward the back, looking extremely bored. Just like her brother, she had kept her clothing spotless. I felt sure she hadn’t spent the night sleeping on the cold ground. I also recognized Doblan, the fallen angel who had tried to get us killed on the car ride to Locke. He was the first fallen angel to turn to the Nocturns, but with a sinking feeling in my heart I knew he would not be the last.