Elemental Rising

by Maddy Edwards

  He walked to the front of the room, repeatedly folding his hands in front of him. He looked very nervous.

  “Check your pockets,” he said. There was a rush of movement around the hall as everyone’s hands went to their jeans and jacket pockets. Suddenly in his hands appeared several watches and a couple of other small objects that I couldn’t quite make out.

  Sip was the first to begin clapping frantically. “That is SO impressive,” she breathed. “That’s hard to do, like whoa.”

  Other students followed suit until Lealand, the good looking pixie, had a standing ovation from everyone except a couple of the students he had pickpocketed.

  “Lealand,” said Risper, “join the pixies as a junior.”

  Lealand bobbed his head and sped away. I liked the look of Lealand and thought he might be nice, at least until he chose to sit down at Cale and Camilla’s table. So much for that.

  “Now,” Dove’s voice said, bringing me back to the present and the front of the room. “I would like all of you to understand some simple things. First, we are in charge by Committee, but we are in charge. The word of one is the word of all. Do not come to each of us with the same problem; you will get the same answer. And finally there is one other piece of business that those of you who arrived late might be aware of.”

  He paused, looking around the room slowly.

  “Throughout the day, as students arrived, they were attacked by demons. We thought we’d dealt with the problem this morning” - again his eyes flicked to my table - “but that turns out not to be the case. Therefore, Public’s defensive shield has been raised. Public is surrounded by demons.”

  Nods and worried looks were exchanged. Students had been waiting for him to address this situation.

  “Everyone is safe. The shields are strong,” Dove continued confidently. He didn’t look worried in the slightest.

  “Get her OUT of here,” Camilla yelled, standing up. I was shocked to see that she was pointing at me. “It’s her they want. If she leaves they will leave the rest of us alone.”

  A shocked silence followed Camilla’s outburst.

  All appearance of kindness vanished from Dove. Vampires can be like that, I thought, glancing at Lanca.

  “Sit down,” he hissed at Camilla. “You have no right to speak when you weren’t spoken to. Least of all about matters you couldn’t possibly understand.”

  “So much for her being on the side of the elementals,” Sip muttered, looking with concern in the direction of the blonde pixie.

  “She just needs something to bitch about,” said Lough confidently. “Unfortunately, she sees Charlotte as a bottomless well for that very thing.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just kept sitting there. Dove never looked at me, he just continued to speak.

  “With the activation of the force field around Public, no one will be able to get in or out without the permission of the Committee,” he explained. “So, tread carefully. Classes start tomorrow, and there is to be one new addition to the curriculum. Professor Zervos of Cruor has requested that each student be trained in battle tactics. He commended everyone’s conduct in the battle last semester, but he feels that further steps need to be taken.”

  Dove paused, gazing around the room while he waited for the murmurs of surprise to die down. The notion that Zervos had said something nice about anyone was truly shocking.

  “Therefore, we’re going to spend some time this semester actually learning how to fight demons. This training will be called Tactical. It will take place over three nights during the semester and will be like a battle, with small groups of students fighting towards and against common goals. Everyone will be involved somehow, just like in a real war.”

  Dove smiled at the cries of surprise and delight, then continued, “I have complete faith that the professors will keep you all safe. The safety of the student body is the primary objective at Public. With that said, this will be difficult. As much as battles without rules are more realistic, they are also more dangerous.”

  With that, he swept back to his seat. It took a second for the students to realize they were dismissed.

  “We have to fight each other?” Lough asked me nervously as we stood up with our trays. “Has anyone thought this through? It doesn’t seem like the best use of our time. I’m a dream giver. How do I fight? Look at me. I’m soft around the edges.”

  I shrugged.

  “I don’t think they care what we think is a good idea,” said Lisabelle.

  “I’ll see you all tomorrow, I’m sure,” said Lanca, veering off to rejoin the other vampires.

  “Does she look especially pale to anyone?” Sip asked.

  “Yes,” the three of us chorused, and then smiled at each other. I wanted to tell my friends about the waking dream I had had when Trafton had done his Demonstration, but now that I lived in Astra I wasn’t going to have the chance any time soon. Hopefully it didn’t mean anything. Trafton was just a freshman. What did he know?

  Right before we separated for the night I asked, “How’s it going, you two living together?”

  Instead of either girl answering, Lough said, “I know the girl that lives next to them and she says she’s amazed she hasn’t heard a brawl yet.”

  “It’s going well,” said Sip. “Actually, I’m learning a lot about compromise.”

  Lisabelle started to cough.

  “Yeah?” I asked, wondering what Lisabelle was hiding.

  “Sure,” said Sip. “I tell Lisabelle I don’t like everything she has being black. It clashes with my neons and such, and so she works on that. It’s a lot of fun. Then she tells me that sometimes I talk to myself, like when she’s trying to sleep, so instead I’ve taken to humming.”

  “Lisabelle, you own stuff that isn’t black now?” I asked, not sure where to go with what Sip had just told me.

  “Yeah, I got a blanket that’s midnight blue.”

  “It’s a total improvement,” said Sip, smiling brightly.

  “Girls,” said Lough with confidence, “are complicated.”

  “Maybe it’s just Sip and Lisabelle,” I whispered back to him.

  “Nice try,” he muttered.

  I grinned.

  The next morning, not wanting to stand out, or in fact do anything that would draw attention to myself, I put on a very standard outfit of jeans and a black fleece. I knew Lisabelle would be wearing black, and I could always hope against hope that people would see us together and get us confused. Then they’d really leave me alone.

  I also decided to skip breakfast in the dining hall; I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with the stares of my classmates. Instead I wandered into the Astra kitchen, hoping against hope that Mrs. Swan had something for breakfast. She had said that we would need to talk after the Committee members made their announcements, but there had been no chance the night before. After hearing what the Committee had said, I could only imagine that she wanted to talk about the need for me to stay away from the force field that was hovering at the edges of Public, keeping out the demons who were beating against our defenses, trying to get in.

  I was in luck; she did have a nice breakfast set out. The talk was another thing entirely.

  When she started, I found myself sighing. I had worried that this kind of thing would be coming. There was no way it was going to be fun to be the sole focus of an adult’s attention, particularly one who thought that the fate of all paranormals rested on keeping me alive long enough for other elementals to be discovered.

  Some of my apprehension must have showed on my face, because Mrs. Swan reached a long dark hand across the table to comfort me. “Don’t worry. These are simple things I want you to do to keep yourself safe, that’s all.”

  I nodded, but gloom was still settling over me like the snow settling on the ground outside.

  “As you know, the demons are outside the protections of Public.”

  “Right. . . .”

  “The force field is strong and they should not b
e able to penetrate it, but it’s still a dangerous situation. There should be no cause for you to leave the grounds except on approved breaks, in which case we will be able to protect you, but I must warn you. . . .”

  She paused, frowning, then continued. “No student will be able to go outside the force field unless allowed by a professor. Being near the force field is very dangerous, which is why performing these Tacticals at all is such a risk.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” I said.

  “The force field is meant to keep everyone safe, which includes students coming AND going.”

  “But isn’t that something they’re going to discuss with us?” I asked, still not sure what she was getting at. If the force field wouldn’t let me out, what did I have to worry about?

  She nodded. “Yes, but what they won’t tell you is that there is one student who can get through the force field if she wants.”

  She let that hang there, watching me closely.

  “Do you mean me?” I asked.

  Normally, when adults at Public were talking to me about rule-breaking I could assume they meant Lisabelle. But something in Mrs. Swan’s tone told me that she wasn’t talking about my darkness friend.

  “Yes,” she said, letting a breath out slowly. “Because you’re the only elemental, the force field will recognize you as dominant, and therefore, should you choose, you will be able to interact with it.”

  “Why would you tell me that?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair. “You don’t know me. For all you know I’m the kind of person who will now go say, ‘Hey, yeah, going through the force field is defying authority. YAY for that. And off I go through the force field.’”

  Mrs. Swan smiled at the way I was dramatically waving my arms around to illustrate my potential for rule breaking.

  “We both know you’re not so foolish. I’m telling you because you must know that you can’t rely solely on the force field for your protection this semester. If someone should attack you, try to spirit you away . . . the consequences. . . .

  “You must understand that the force field will know you as something vital. Should it be necessary, you can use that to your advantage.”

  Ah, the light bulb was coming on. “So, if someone kidnapped any other student on campus, the force field would stop the student from being taken off the grounds, but not me. Isn’t that kind of . . . oh, I don’t know, stupid? Given that I’m the only student on campus anyone would try to kidnap?” I demanded.

  “There are many people who would like to get their hands on Lanca, actually,” said Mrs. Swan, swirling a carrot in a bowl of yellow dip. “Of course, were I those people I would do my best to make sure she came to me unconscious.”

  I gave a crooked smile. “She’s almost as bad as Lisabelle, I know. But she’s safe?”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Swan, sounding resigned. “The Committee is going to try and work on this little problem, but until they figure it out, under no circumstances are you to go anywhere near that shield alone.” She cocked her head towards the wall, examining the clock.

  “You should finish getting ready for class,” she said. “Other discussions can wait.”

  I nodded. At least she wasn’t going to try and give me a curfew or anything. I’d had enough of that in high school. Now that I was in college I intended to do just as I wanted. I did realize as I started to walk away that she might not be telling me everything. I wondered if what she said was true, but there was no real way to test it without putting myself in dire peril. I would have to think about it, maybe tell Lisabelle. She always had helpful suggestions when I wanted to break rules and direct orders. If rule-breaking had been a major in college, she’d be getting straight As.

  “Oh, and Ms. Rollins?” Mrs. Swan called before I disappeared back into the hall. I glanced back at my dorm mother. “Yes?”

  “Be careful. Princess Lanca would be a crown jewel were she to be kidnapped, but you would be the crown and the kingdom.”

  I sighed. This semester was getting more and more complicated by the second.

  Chapter Ten

  I had had terrible dreams that my first class would be with Zervos, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was my internship at the Museum of Masks. I hurried to meet Professor Dacer, not wanting to be late on my first day. The Museum was located on the upper floors of the Tower, which meant that I had a lot of stair climbing to do. I had never been there before, having been too preoccupied last semester with things like not getting kicked out of the school, or killed. Now I was preoccupied with learning just what it meant to be elemental. My mother deserved that much, and so did I.

  Just because I knew where the Museum was didn’t mean I was prepared for what I would see once I got there. First, I stepped through a set of opaque double glass doors, which got me into a large entry way. On one side was a desk, with a security guard sitting behind it. He smiled and nodded when he saw me.

  “Go right on in, Ms. Rollins,” he said. “They’re expecting you.”

  He had a soft chin and a rounded nose, with smiling eyes. He looked perfectly at ease, probably not prepared to take down a demon should one try to break into the Museum, but more than capable of scaring away any freshman that might decide to cause some mischief.

  I nodded and smiled at him, my feet making no sound on the white marble floor. Over the door hung an inscription, but I couldn’t read it even though I squinted up at the silver lettering. It was old, very old, far older than the building in which it hung. There was a deep history here, it was clear, a fact that I would need to remember around someone like Dacer, who had dedicated his life to the place.

  Taking a deep breath, I examined the door. But I didn’t want to look like an idiot, just standing there and staring at a large wooden object, so I put my hand on the knob. Instead of a normal door handle it was a large metal ring, its silver surface mimicking the silver lettering above my head.

  I sighed as my fingers touched the cold metal. I would be doing this a lot all semester, so I had better get used to it. I would have to be braver than I felt at that moment.

  I pulled the door open.

  The Museum of Masks was not what I was expecting it to be, to say the very least. I had expected something clean, clear and white, like the rest of the Tower at Public. This was anything but. Oh, there was plenty of light, because one whole side of the massive room that stretched out before me was made up of windows. I was at the very top of the Tower, after all, which meant that the Museum would be laid out in a circle, but it looked like the circle had been subdivided into several rooms. The one I was in was very large.

  The floor was covered by a massive carpet, a mix of deep reds, blues, greens, whites, browns, and blacks: the colors of the paranormals. There didn’t appear to be any pattern; it was as if someone had taken different large cans of paint and simply splashed them around.

  The room was completely silent, but that was fine; the assault on my eyes was overwhelming enough. Had there been noises to take in as well, I might not have been able to handle it.

  I remembered once watching a movie with my mother, some period drama where there was a ball in some fancy hall. All the women wore pretty masks that covered their eyes and cheeks. Many of the men also wore masks, and although those were bigger, they too had covered nothing larger than the men’s faces.

  That’s about what I had pictured the masks in the Museum to look like.

  My imagination was an epic fail.

  Some of the masks were small, about the size of a face, but others were . . . enormous. Like, taller than I was and wider than the doorway I had just walked through. Apparently paranormals of years past had been very large indeed. There was still a lot I had to learn about the world I had so recently joined.

  “Well, don’t just stand there gawking like an idiot, come in,” said a frustrated voice from somewhere in front of me. “I trust you met Jeff?”

  I stared at a man who could only be Dacer. Like most of the other vampires I had seen he was ta
ll and thin, with pale skin and black eyes. Unlike every other vampire at Public, Dacer didn’t limit himself to black clothing. Instead, today he was dressed in a blinding lime green suit, and pink shoes.

  Oh, my.

  When he continued to stare at me as if I had started off as a fascinating specimen under his microscope but was fast becoming dirt beneath his feet, I snapped out of my embarrassing reverie and managed to stammer, “Jeff?”

  Dacer gave a gusty sigh. “The guard at the door?” His foot tapped impatiently and I had the terrible feeling that I was disappointing him.

  “Um, oh yeah, well, I saw him. He said I could come in. I can, can’t I?” I asked, worried now and totally shocked by this colorful vampire in front of me.

  Dacer threw up his hands in one frantic motion. One landed on the top of his maroon, yeah, maroon hair.

  “Well, obviously,” he said, “what good would an internship at the Museum of Masks be if you never actually went inside the Museum of Masks?”

  Before I could answer, he gave me a large wink and turned around. As if he had been shot out of a gun, he sped down the room and towards the corner from around which he had appeared a moment ago.

  He came to a halt, like a train that had put on the brakes but couldn’t stop right away. He had gotten momentum going and was going to power through. Turning to look at me, he raised an imperious hand, which I could now see was well manicured in a light purple color, and said, “Come.”

  Obviously, I went, thinking all the while that Sip was going to love this.

  Lisabelle not so much.

  I liked him already.

  Chapter Eleven

  I followed Professor Dacer into another gallery of the Museum. I shouldn’t have been surprised that this one was even more unusual than the last, but of course I was. Dacer flitted around, which made it even harder for me to take everything in. He knew the room intimately and moved with an assurance that only came with time and mastery of a space. This guy was a vampire? How was that possible? Maroon hair, green suit, purple nails, and of course the pink shoes just topped it all off. How could I never have noticed him around campus before?