Turning Tides (Elements, Book 3)

by Mia Marshall

  The noise shook the island, then everything was muffled, like cotton had been stuffed into my ears. At a distance, I heard screams, the creak of metal as dozens stood as one, chairs flying backwards as half the island ran away and the other half ran toward the water.

  One second the councilwoman stood in the ocean, prepared to read my sentence. The next, pieces of Edith Lake floated alongside the voting table, flames still clinging to her clothes.

  Even as I stared in horror, my fire roared in joy.

  The island’s old ones, the healers, rushed toward her, but it was futile. There was nothing to heal. Though the lower half of her body was still mostly intact, her torso had been obliterated. One arm clung to the body, the tendons and bones exposed for all to see, but the other was in the water. Maybe the old ones could have repaired that, but they could do nothing about the fact she was missing half her head. Even Dr. Frankenstein couldn’t put Edith back together at this point.

  My mother and grandmother stood in the water, and though they remained at least ten feet from where Edith had blown up, body parts bobbed around them in a grotesque tableau. They turned in circles, fear stamped across their features, as they looked for any explanation. Any way they could help.

  When my mother raised her eyes to mine, I only saw panic in their depths.

  All around me, I heard shocked and horrified whispers. The words made no sense. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the carnage in the water and my mother’s terrified face.

  “What is it? What happened?” Michael Bay stood at the water’s edge, lines on his face that hadn’t been there five minutes ago. He sounded like a child, begging the adults to tell him he was only imagining the awful scene before him.

  “She’s dead,” my mother whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” Once again, my mother looked at me, her eyes fierce and desperate.

  She wasn’t the only one. The remaining council members, hell, everyone on the island, stared at me.

  No, not at me. They stared over my shoulder, at Sera.

  Rachel Strait was pale, and her eyes were wide and scared, but when she spoke, her voice did not waver. “Only one person on this island is capable of creating an explosion from thin air,” she announced, in a clear voice that carried to everyone on the beach. “We all witnessed it. That was the work of a fire elemental.”

  Too late, I understood what my mother was trying to tell me.

  She’d been telling me to run.

  Chapter 2

  Chaos would be one description of what happened next. Utter, complete insanity would be closer to the mark. At Rachel Strait’s words, the crowd panicked, pushing against each other and, in some cases, pushing each other over, desperate to flee the homicidal fire in their midst. They knocked over chairs and ran in every possible direction. A few brave souls struggled against the crowd in an effort to get closer to Sera and personally observe the murderous fiend. However, far more ran away, arms wrapped tight around their torsos as if they could prevent her deadly magic from entering their fragile bodies.

  Deborah and Michael stared between me, Sera, and the remains of Edith Lake. Sera’s wild black hair and defiant eyes left little doubt about her heritage. She looked like what she was—an intense, powerful fire used to getting her way in all things.

  At that particular moment, she wouldn’t have wanted my mysterious sentence to be read. We might not have known what it was, but the details weren’t important. When someone talks about making an example out of another person, it’s pretty clear things aren’t going to end well.

  Anyone who knew the first thing about our friendship would know Sera wouldn’t allow me to suffer, not if she could stop it. It wasn’t much of a motive, but considering the lack of any other fires on the island, my best friend looked damn guilty.

  One council member didn’t share the others’ helpless confusion. “Could whatever passes for law enforcement on this island isolate that woman?” Rachel Strait waved in Sera’s direction. Despite the horror she’d just witnessed, she sounded almost bored. She didn’t raise her voice, but her words were enough to catch my relatives’ attention. She was the only one on the island in a suit, a flawlessly tailored white linen outfit that likely originated in Europe. Her hair was cut in a severe bob, her lips outlined in red. I’d seen porcupines who looked softer and more cuddly.

  Having accepted that there was nothing she could do for the dead woman, Grams returned to the beach and stepped toward Rachel, her face deceptively polite. “Why would we have enforcement? We’re a peaceful enclave. There’s no crime here.”

  The internal organs currently drifting out to sea notwithstanding.

  Normally, she was right. The island was pretty damn close to utopia, if your idea of utopia was having all your material needs met and never worrying about violence among a bunch of easy-going waters. If your idea of utopia involved seeing the world and understanding people outside your small circle, you were shit out of luck.

  We didn’t have crime. Like all the old families, we’d been saving money since humans first began minting coins, and we were embarrassingly wealthy. No one lacked for funds, no one could be bothered to hurt others, and if someone wanted a different life, they simply stepped onto a boat or plane with their enormous trust fund and disappeared for a while.

  Rachel curled her lip. “No crime?” She slid her gaze toward a dismembered hand washing up on the shore. “How reassuring. Here I was worried my colleague had been murdered, but now that you’ve told me it’s not possible, I feel quite relieved.”

  More people were drawing closer, wanting to hear the discussion. They might fear Sera and her potentially lethal magic, but this was the most dramatic thing to happen on the island in centuries. No one wanted to miss a moment and be forced to hear about it secondhand.

  “Just to clarify, am I being accused?” Sera’s voice cut through the murmurs. “I’m assuming that’s the case, based on the way everyone’s staring at me, but I’d like it confirmed.”

  Grams sighed heavily and looked upward, as though a skywriter might appear with an answer. She’d met Sera once before, when my fire friend visited the island during sophomore year. My relatives had all liked her well enough, and at the time none seemed to think she was capable of immolating others.

  “Sera, normally I’d say you were under no more suspicion than anyone else present. However, you are the only fire on the island. Unless you have a possible explanation for how this could have happened, I fear you are very much our best suspect.” It was about as fair as one could be, considering the circumstances.

  Unfortunately, Grams wasn’t wrong. I scanned all the remaining faces. Most were familiar, and almost all were water, with the telltale tall, skinny bodies, golden hair, and eyes in varying shades of gray. I thought I picked out a stone in the crowd, but he’d be no more capable of burning someone to a crisp than my relatives.

  Based on the people in attendance, Sera was the only one who could have committed the murder.

  Someday, our lives were going to be peaceful again. We would find ourselves on a beach with umbrella drinks and cabana boys, and there would be no dead bodies in sight. I would surround myself with friends and wake up every day to a calm, stress-free life in which I could enjoy however many sane days I had left.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t look like today was that day.

  “I didn’t do it,” Sera’s voice remained strong, and she met each of her accuser’s eyes in turn.

  Rachel sniffed. “I’m glad to hear it. In that case, we’ll just stick you back on the plane and forget all about this brutal attack on the water elementals’ governing body and the destruction of a woman who, by rights, should have lived for another thousand years. Thank you for saving us the paperwork.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the councilwoman. “No one is saying that. We understand how this looks. But Sera is claiming she is innocent, and she deserves a fair trial. We require time to determine what happened.” Rachel Strait looked unimpress
ed, and she opened her mouth to deliver what was sure to be a snide denial. I rushed to finish. “We’re not barbarians, after all. Or animals.” I smiled pointedly. If they were going to insist on being prejudiced assholes, I was not above using that against them.

  The tone of the crowd’s murmur shifted from fear and excitement to understanding, even agreement. There was only one sentence for murdering another elemental, and I was glad to see no one was in a hurry to order Sera’s death.

  Apparently, if you were going to be accused of murder, the best place to get caught was on an island full of easily-distracted pacifist waters.

  That description didn’t apply to all waters—the councilwoman seemed a notable exception—but she was overpowered by numbers. Rachel gave a curt nod, though I suspected her agreement would only last until she could think of a better option.

  We tried to beat her to it. “Shouldn’t I be tried by my own council?” Sera asked.

  Rachel appeared surprised by the question. “Surely not. You have murdered a water, and we shall decide your fate. I will inform Allison Ash, my equivalent on the fire council, and she can decide if you will have a second trial with your own people. If it proves necessary, that is.”

  “Your equivalent?” I choked out, overlooking the suggestion that, if Sera was dead by the order of the water council, there’d be no need for a second trial.

  “With Edith gone, it becomes the Straits’ turn to lead the council.”

  That’s what I’d been afraid she was going to say. I grasped at my last straw. “But how can we have any trials? With Edith dead, there are only four of you.”

  This time, it was Grams who spoke, her voice resigned. “Four members are considered a quorum, Aidan. If there is a tie, the verdict defaults to innocent. They have enough people to try Sera and decide your sentence.”

  “In the name of efficiency, we will do both at the same time. The fire’s trial will be held three days hence, at which time your sentence will be read before witnesses. You have been granted a seventy-two hour reprieve. Do you have any other questions, Ms. Brook?”

  I wanted to ask how the hell she expected me to find a killer in three days, but somehow I doubted she would share my concern.

  “Good. The fire will need to be kept isolated, and at least one hundred feet from all other elementals.”

  My mother pointed to the west. “We have several guest cottages on the other side of the island. One is unoccupied, and the remaining visitors can be moved while we resolve this issue. Will this suffice?”

  “Guards?”

  Blank stares greeted the question. This wasn’t an island full of people who understand the value of a work ethic, and no one was going to volunteer to stand around all day to make sure a murderous fire didn’t escape her prison.

  “I’ll stay with her,” I said.

  “That is hardly appropriate security, a best friend and convicted traitor to elementals.”

  The woman sure as hell didn’t mince words. I could practically see the collective feathers of the gathered Brook clan ruffle at her words.

  “Regardless, I’m also determined to prove her innocence, which means I won’t want her wandering about the island. If someone else blows up, distance is her best alibi.”

  “If someone dies, are we supposed to take your word that she was in the cottage?” Rachel forced a smile, doing her best to appear the calm water despite her contemptuous words.

  “Sera didn’t do it. This means someone else caused Edith’s death, and they’re still wandering around the island, free to burn any unsuspecting water who pisses them off. My friend will not be responsible for anyone else’s crimes. Sera will stay in the cottage because she wants to prove her innocence even more than I do. We all know that if she wants to escape, she would just burn down a wall, grab a boat, and get the hell out of here. She doesn’t want to spend her life on the run, so she will accept this temporary jail. We can mount a surveillance camera on the porch to prove she doesn’t leave the cottage, if it makes you feel better. If anyone dies, we’ll have proof she wasn’t involved.”

  Rachel’s smile didn’t waver, and when she agreed, it almost sounded like she meant it. “Fine.” She turned to stare at the ocean, no longer interested in discussing Sera’s fate.

  “Another thing. Once the camera’s mounted, I can come and go as I please from the guest cottage. Whatever else I’ve been convicted of, it didn’t involve physically harming other elementals, and I need to be able to move freely about the island. It’s the only way I can prove Sera is innocent.”

  This time, Rachel hesitated, but she knew she was trapped. No one else was volunteering to defend Sera. If the councilwoman didn’t acquiesce to my request, she could be accused of conducting an unfair investigation. “That is acceptable. Now get that woman locked up before she finds another target.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” muttered Sera, too low for anyone but me to hear.

  “Let’s go.” I urged her toward the west side of the island, where the unoccupied cottage waited for its prisoner.

  Umbrella drinks and cabana boys would need to wait a bit longer.

  Chapter 3

  In college, I’d done one or two walks of shame, returning to my dorm room in the previous night’s clothes after a night with a guy I’d been seeing. I’d keep my head low, hoping no one I knew recognized me, and I’d swipe my finger under my eyes over and over, trying to remove the residual mascara. On those mornings, I felt tired and stretched and embarrassed, but I also felt glee, the sort of buoyant happiness that came from pushing the boundaries on my formerly narrow life.

  Those days were long behind me, but the memory of the contradictory feelings had nothing on the torrent of emotions that crashed through me as I walked across the island that had once been my home.

  It was, still and always, one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen, as striking in its own way as Lake Tahoe.

  It rested on the outer ring of the San Juan Islands, far from the more popular tourist spots, and elementals went to great lengths to ensure our small piece of land appeared on no map. Our only pier was well hidden, so any boaters who happened past would find landing difficult. There was enough room for small seaplanes to land, which remained our primary way on and off the island. Boat and plane travel were monitored, and all incoming and outgoing visitors were painstakingly logged.

  Our caution was necessary. From above, the wealth of firs and maples helped disguise the network of canals cut into the entire island, but they’d be visible the moment someone stepped foot on our shores. While one or two waterfalls or fountains might be expected, we had them in every garden. There were even a few houses with moats.

  In short, it was an island custom made for water elementals, and it called to that part of my soul like few other places could. Everywhere I looked, water flowed and bubbled, looking for someone to play with it. I tentatively reached out my magic and greeted it as it coursed through the canal on my left side. It responded instantly, the water exploding in an ecstatic spray. I was a daughter of the island, and it recognized me.

  I’d been raised here. As the island’s only child, I’d been adored and pampered by my family for the first twenty years of my life. Things changed when I came of age. I’d wanted to see the world. My mother wanted to hide me from it. Before long, the island I loved felt as much like a prison as a home, one I longed to escape.

  It appeared I’d come full circle.

  “How long has it been?” Sera asked.

  I was doing my best to pretend half the island wasn’t following us to confirm that the dangerous fire was truly locking herself away. Sera remained focused on me, as she had been since we learned I was a half fire who would likely go crazy some day. I hated it, but I hadn’t figured out a way to change our dynamic yet.

  “Senior year of college. I came home on Christmas vacation. Then…” I stopped. We both knew what happened after that. We’d gotten involved in a series of murders, and the fire magic I’d not kno
wn I possessed helped cause the deaths of several innocent people. I’d gone into hiding for ten years and hadn’t seen anyone. Not my mother, not Sera, not the island. It hadn’t been my finest decade.

  With a head tilt, Sera indicated those who followed us at a careful distance, always remaining outside the reach of Sera’s magic. “I’m thinking there’s something to that whole ‘you can’t go home again’ thing.”

  The words were irreverent, but tension marked her body. Her spine was straight, her shoulders set, her eyes fixed on the path before us. “I didn’t blow her up, either,” I whispered, too low for anyone else to hear. It seemed a point worth clarifying. “I didn’t even know fires could do that.”

  Her gaze flicked to me. “I never thought you did.”

  Half a mile later, we arrived at the western edge of the island. It was less sheltered and prone to higher winds than the rest of the island. It was therefore less populated, with only a handful of stilt houses at the high tide mark. No permanent residents lived in these cottages, and the few visitors were already evacuating the nearby homes, bound for guest quarters where they didn’t need to worry about their neighbor incinerating them in a fit of pique. They cast nervous glances in our direction. I waved cheerfully.

  The gathered crowd stopped behind an invisible line, always keeping their distance. It didn’t matter how close they were, or whether I could still hear their quiet murmurs. In the end, it was just me and Sera. We’d fought plenty of battles already and come out on top, and I had no doubt we’d do it again. I wouldn’t consider any other option.

  I marched up the stairs to the cottage and opened the front door. It wasn’t locked. None of our homes ever were. It was a guest cottage, and so held little in the way of personality, but it was clean and comfortable. For a jail cell, we’d both seen worse.

  I threw my bag on the sofa and performed a quick study of the house, calling back to Sera.

  “You can take the room on the right. Accused murderers get the pastel bedspread. I’m sure I read that somewhere.” I turned to discover I was talking to myself. Sera stood on the threshold, frozen. Her eyes held the closest thing to fear I’d ever seen on her face. “What is it?”