Call of the Waters (Elemental Realms Book 2)

by H. L. Burke

  Tears sprang in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She slipped both arms around his neck and squeezed. “Oh Brody, be careful.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Did you just call me ‘Brody?’”

  She flushed. “Maybe.”

  “I like it. Not in public, though, all right? Only between us.” He dropped onto the branch and swung down, landing lightly.

  Trea readied her bow, trying to control her breathing. Her stomach twisted as Brode crept from tree to tree before darting out into the clearing in front of the gate.

  She nocked an arrow and scanned the bramble for any sign of movement.

  Trea tried to keep her eyes off Brode. She felt as if part of her were there, exposed, with him. He kept one hand on his knife hilt, his head slightly down. For a few heartbeats, he leaned against the wall outside the gate, then he darted into the courtyard and took off at a run for the Sanctuary.

  With a noise like boulders tumbling down a hill, the ground shifted. Trea’s heart rate spiked. Brode fell to his knees, the courtyard tiles splitting beneath him. She desperately searched the brambles. Nothing. Her gaze flitted to the ruined buildings. There was a shadow, perhaps a man, but she’d only get one shot. If she missed, he’d know she was there and never step out of cover. One shot, one chance. The ground rumbled again. Brode cried out.

  Her throat clenched, and the hand holding the arrows shook. Breathe, Trea, breathe. She focused back to her uncle, teaching her how to shoot when she was little more than Pet’s age. Steady hand, steady eye, steady mind …

  The shadow extended. He stepped around a pile of bricks, hands on his hips, a patch of tanned flesh visible between his heavy coat and his hairline. She drew back and released. The bowstring twanged, and the arrow shot forward. It pierced the man’s neck. He toppled.

  Not waiting to see if he stayed down, Trea scrambled from the tree and bolted across the clearing. Brode picked himself up, then almost fell down when she collided against his chest.

  The ground beside him was split into a furrow, about four feet deep. He glanced down. “I fell in … I’m guessing he would’ve shut it on top of me if you hadn’t got your shot in.” He strode over and knelt beside the body. “He’s gone. We’ll put him in his own hole.”

  Her hands shook. “Where’s Dad?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The ground shook. Karvir wormed his way upright. His head spun, and his extremities felt like cold stone.

  “What was that?” Eanan frowned.

  Another jolt cut through them.

  Karvir’s core flickered, and he sank to the ground.

  “Karvir? You all right?” Eanan’s voice went up a pitch. He pushed with his legs until his shoulder brushed against Karvir’s arm. “Woods and trees, boy, you’re cold. Charred aren’t usually cold, are they?”

  “Please stop calling me that.” Karvir shut his eyes. His insides churned.

  “Sorry, but for practical purposes, it’s what you are. Hang on, all right. Something’s happening out there. Listen.”

  The door creaked open.

  “Dad!” For a moment Karvir thought he’d slipped into a dream. Then Trea’s arms were around him, her head against his chest, and her tears stinging his skin.

  “Trea!” Relief spread through him, and his arms strained against their bonds, fighting to embrace her. “You’re … Thank the Creator.” Footsteps echoed, but he concentrated on his daughter.

  “Dad, are you all right?” She withdrew to stare into his eyes.

  “Now I am.” His voice came out in a rasp.

  “You need fire. How do I get this off you?” She pulled at the bindmetal. Brode entered and turned his attention to Eanan. He sliced through the ropes about the older man's hands.

  “There’s a key,” Karvir said. “Daman, the one who captured me, has it.”

  “I’ll get it,” Brode volunteered.

  “I’ll make sure there’s fire.” Eanan shook off the ropes and hurried after Brode.

  Trea slipped her fingers around Karvir's hand. “It’s all right, Dad. I found you. I’m here. You’re going to be all right.”

  The chill overcame him, and his vision blurred. No, I’m not giving into it now, not when she’s here.

  “Brode, hurry!” Trea shouted.

  “I got it!” A draft blew across Karvir’s face, and fingers fumbled with the locking mechanism. The bindmetal loosened with a click, allowing his being to disintegrate into a fade. His vision remained indistinct, but the fire called to him, the warmth pulling at the particles that made up his vaporous body. It swept him out the door and into the welcome embrace of a small fire. The flames roared when he merged with them. Then blessed energy. His core crackled to life.

  Everything was fire. The heat cleansed him like water and rocked him like a mother’s embrace. Voices murmured at the edge of his consciousness.

  Trea was alive. Brode was alive. The Creator was good.

  Hours passed in a pleasant haze. Then someone tossed a log on the fire. The wood passed through him, causing no more harm than fingers running through his hair might’ve when he still had a human form, but the sparks it stirred roused him from his stupor. Solidifying, he rose from the flames as a pillar of smoke.

  The sun nested just above the horizon. Trea sat before him, her knees against her chest, bow at her side. A smile brightened her face. “Feeling better?”

  “Good as new.” He stepped out of the blaze and drew his heat into his core. When he trusted it was contained enough not to burn her, he settled on the ground and stroked her cheek. “Thank you.”

  She dropped her eyes. “I thought I’d lost you. You looked so … I’ve never seen you that weak.”

  “We cut it close. A few more hours, and I might not have had the strength to get to the fire.” He hardened into his solid form and squeezed her hand. “I’m fine now. Where are Eanan and Brode?”

  “Gathering more firewood. We weren’t sure how long you’d need to be in the fire and … well, I think Brode wanted to get Eanan away from me. He tried to give his side of the story, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to punch him.” She grimaced.

  Karvir laughed. “Believe me, I’ve been there.”

  “How could … I don't know Eanan. Maybe whatever happened between you and him all those years ago was bad enough that he doesn't care if he hurts you. Quill, though … Dad, how could she leave like she did? I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, believe Eanan tricked her or coerced her. If she really went willingly, like Eanan says … what was she thinking? You almost died. Brode almost died!”

  “She didn't ask us to come after her, Trea,” Karvir whispered. “That was my choice.”

  “She had to know you would!” Trea's shoulders shook.

  Karvir sighed. “Eanan says she was afraid she'd harm me. Apparently the Water Elementals keep breaking into her head, making water gravitate towards her. She did it formy safety, just as I came after her for hers. Sometimes when you love people, your desire to protect them causes them more pain than you intend. Don't blame your sister for this.”

  “I think if I see her again, I'll be too relieved to be mad. Seeing you like that, though ...” Trea shuddered.

  She leaned into him, and he partially faded, remaining solid enough that she could still rest against him without falling through, while gaseous enough that he could feel her warmth mingling with his own. He closed his eyes and remembered her as a young girl, sucking her thumb with her head against his chest.

  “You’re so precious, Trey. I’m sorry I put you in danger. I wouldn't have let you come if I'd known we would face these Earth cultists.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I wanted to come.”

  He shook his head. “The Creator granted me two daughters. Putting myself in danger to save Quill is one thing … if I lost you in the process? The heartbreak would be as strong—perhaps worse because I’d have no one to blame but myself.”

  “Eanan says Quill’s all right, though, and we’re
only about a day behind her.” She sat up and grasped his arm. “We can’t give up now.”

  “I know, and I’m not. Still …” He put one hand in the fire and twisted a flame about his fingers before withdrawing. “I think you and Brode should head home.”

  “No.” She crossed her arms. “I can handle this.”

  “Trea, I’m not suggesting it because I don’t trust you. When you went over that cliff, my heart dove after you. If something were to happen to you, it would destroy me.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  She held her hands out to the fire then rubbed them together. “I guess I don’t … When you used to go march with the militia, I remember you wouldn’t tell us you’d come home again.”

  “I didn’t want to make promises fate might prevent me from keeping.” He nodded. “Too many men didn’t come back.”

  “And you can’t keep me safe out here, I know. However, something awful could happen, anytime or anywhere, to me or you: an accident, sickness, a sudden rainstorm. We can’t choose when we die. I’m not going to let that stop me from being there for the ones I love, though. You and Quill need me.” A smile quirked her lips. “A fact clearly demonstrated by how I just saved your crispy skin.”

  He laughed. “Yes, you did.” He touched the tip of her nose, leaving behind a smudge of soot. “You remind me of someone.”

  She tilted her head. “Who?”

  “A young idiot who thought he could save the world and protect his family against impossible odds.” He turned his eyes to the dancing fire. “It took getting burnt to a cinder and nearly losing everything for me to realize I couldn't do this on my own, that it’s all right to need other people. Learn from my mistakes, Trey. You can’t be a brick wall between your loved ones and pain. It’ll break you.”

  She nodded. “I try. It’s hard to have faith, even in you or Brode.”

  Something in the way she said Brode’s name tickled his ears. “You like Brode, don’t you?”

  “More than like.” Her cheeks flushed.

  “That’s good. You two are about the age your mother and I were when we bonded. Cling to him. It’ll make life so much better. When you find something like that, hold onto it for dear life, nurture it, protect it.”

  “I will … though, you know, that young idiot did save the world and keep us all safe.”

  “To an extent, but there was a point where I lost everything. Five years, trapped in the Fire Realm, nothing left but my faith. If I had relied on my own strength and knowledge in that time, I would’ve lost myself to despair and madness. Maybe part of the reason I survived was to help you get to the place I did, without having to go through similar agony.”

  “I’m just glad you came home.” She rested her head on his shoulder once more. “That’s reason enough for me.”

  ***

  “I’m pretty sure we’re being followed.” Gabrin held his hand over his eyes to scan the slope behind them. The setting sun cloaked everything in long shadows; however, they’d climbed above the treeline, and he had a clear view over the last few miles.

  Quill swayed on her feet. “Gabrin … I’m not sure I can walk much farther. Can’t we rest?”

  He fiddled with his compass. His own feet felt like stones, and his head ached, but stopping could allow pursuit to close the gap.

  Quill sighed and stepped closer to him. “We’ve been walking since sunset yesterday and only had a short rest before that. This ground is too steep to travel at night anyway. We’ll risk breaking our necks if we don’t find a place to camp.”

  Gabrin rubbed his temples. She was right. The ravine had led them to an ancient path made of white stone. It was easy to mark though often broken by twisting roots or washed out by centuries of rains—too many chances to twist an ankle or go tumbling down the hill. He traced the path they’d taken. Except for a few patches of sparse pines or clumps of boulders providing cover, he could see their entire day’s journey clear enough to map and no sign of the Earth Speakers.

  “All right, we’ll stop.”

  Quill’s pinched expression melted away.

  Gabrin pocketed his compass. “We’re pretty high up. It’s going to be cold. Let’s try to find some place sheltered enough to hide a fire.”

  “I see a basalt outcropping up ahead. I bet we’ll find some caves there.” She pointed towards a wall of gray-blue stone jutting out of the hillside.

  Gabrin shook his head. “Basalt’s a volcanic rock. Caves are formed by water eating away at softer stone, like sandstone and limestone.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “How do you know that?”

  “It was in one of Eanan’s books. I have a head for facts like that.”

  “Well, your facts contradict my reality. I grew up next to a basalt field with several caves. Come on. Have a little faith.” She left the trail, headed towards the stones. He followed.

  The hill beneath the rock wall was composed mostly of sheets of basalt covered in moss and lichen. Quill stuck to the wall, poking into crevices barely large enough for a nesting bird. Then she gave a triumphant shout and ran to a rounded cave like a huge burrow in the hillside.

  Gabrin touched the stone walls. “I wonder how it formed like this.”

  It was small, the roof low enough that he had to stoop to get in, and the whole cave narrow enough that he could stretch his arms out and touch both sides. It continued for several yards before a wall of piled rocks cut it off, a collapse, probably.

  “Mom had some stories of Elementals digging through the earth. You know, when rock gets hot enough, it turns to liquid. Dad saw a lot of that in the Fire Realm.”

  “I’ve read about volcanoes, mountains spewing fire that hardens to stone. Well, however it formed, I’m grateful for it. We should be safe making a fire in here.”

  They gathered wood and dried grass and soon had a crackling fire. The sun dropped below the horizon. Gabrin stepped out as the stars pricked through the darkening sky. A spot of orange flickered at the treeline below him. They’d left that area a bit before midday, which meant pursuit was no more than half a day behind. At least they’d also stopped.

  Quill placed her hand on his shoulder. “They aren’t trying to hide.”

  “Why should they? It’s a warning. We’re the prey, and they have every advantage.”

  “And Eanan?” Her voice quavered. “Do you think he's with them?”

  His stomach clenched. He’d been so convinced that continuing on would be what the old man would’ve wanted. There was no way Gabrin could take on an Earth Speaker, perhaps multiple Earth Speakers. Trying to rescue Eanan would’ve ended with Gabrin dead and Quill dead or captured. Still, Eanan was his friend, and once again, Gabrin had chosen self-preservation over the honorable option.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Quill. I told you, I’m not a good man. Eanan knows that, more than most. The first time he met me, I was selling stolen books.”

  “You were a child.” Her fingers squeezed into him.

  “In my experience, the substance of a man doesn’t change much.” Gabrin pulled away and went back to the cave. He leaned against the wall.

  She settled across from him. “I may not know much about rocks and mapmaking, but I know people. You’re not a bad man. Just a bit of a coward.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Thanks?”

  “It’s not the worst thing. I’m not particularly brave either, only in a different way.”

  “This is about that canyon-crossing, isn’t it?” He rolled his eyes. “Having common sense about heights and my own inability to fly doesnot make me a coward.”

  “No, what makes you a coward is that when I try to talk directly with you, you deflect with a joke about what happened at the canyon instead of facing the issue.” Her eyebrows drew together. “When you’re empathic, you learn pretty quickly that you will feel pain, that people will hurt you, whether they mean to or not. It’s impossible to avoid. Gabr
in, you dance around connections and convictions. Perhaps because the few times you did stick your neck out for something, you failed, and it’s a lot easier not to feel pain and disappointment if you don’t care.”

  “So I’m a coward because I’m emotionally repressed? You’re such a girl.” He snorted.

  She flushed. “No, because you use not caring as an excuse not to take personal risk. Until you care about something, you’ll never take a stand for anything, and that’s why you’re a coward.”

  Rage flared in his chest. “It must be easy to judge people when everyone else shields you from the hard choices.” He rose and stomped out of the cave. The cold air bit at his skin, but he embraced it, throwing his cloak back to further expose himself.

  Why do I care what she thinks? She’s a naive kid who has barely been off her family farm. What does she know about the world? Or being an adult? Or me? If she’d seen half of what I’ve seen … Somehow she burned into his brain. He could see her face, hear the concern and conviction in her voice, the way she flinched with him when she healed his broken nose, how intensely she took everything. Something in him ached for that, for her. Blast it, I’m not doing this. I’m not letting her get to me. She’s a stupid, spoiled child … who thinks I’m a coward. He pressed his fingers into his eyes and inhaled as much cold air as his lungs could hold.

  “Gabrin?”

  He turned.

  Quill stood, silhouetted in the mouth of the cavern. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have … I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He slipped his hand into his pocket and stroked his compass. “Look, no matter what you think of me or I of you, we have a mission, and we’re going to need to put up with each other for a little longer. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll reach the Evermirror and have some answers.” He forced a smile.

  She nodded. “We should both get some sleep.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Arana harnessed the donkey while Markyl kicked out the last coals of their fire.

  “The beast slows our pace. We’ll never overtake the Water Slave with him plodding behind,” Markyl commented.