by Lizzy Ford
“You’re so good, going to the gym.”
“Kinda have to.”
Jenna’s gaze went to the scars. Autumn ducked her head, but the pretty girl said nothing about her injuries.
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving next week?” Jenna asked.
“No.”
“I’m not sure if I am or not. Adam says they have a big party here. I thought about staying. Have you …” she leaned forward “you know, figured out this element thing?”
“Not really,” Autumn said.
The same woman who served dinner brought them both huge plates of steaming food: scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and golden pancakes covered with huckleberries. Both Autumn and Jenna were quiet. Autumn shoveled the food into her mouth, hungry after her workout.
“Who was that Beck guy?” Jenna asked.
“I don’t really know,” Autumn admitted. “I met him when we got here. He’s nice. A bit strange like everyone else.”
“Yeah they are weird. Amber sat down with me yesterday. I guess I’m a water element. I don’t understand what that means, though.”
Autumn nodded, thoughts going to Beck’s reaction when she told him about her two elements. Maybe it was bad to have two, and he didn’t want to tell her. In any case, she wanted to play with the elements today, like the orientation book said to. They whispered to her. Maybe, if she sat really quietly, she’d hear them speak actual words.
Jenna talked about Adam, and Autumn half-listened, more interested in her food and the magick. When she finished, she left the dining room and went to the front porch. The morning air was cold, but she didn’t feel like walking up the stairs again for a jacket. Stairs killed her leg, and she didn’t want to deal with Dawn, who had stormed into the room late last night, drunk and screaming about something.
Autumn had huddled under her covers and waited for her roommate to pass out.
Shivering, Autumn made her way down the porch stairs and walked to the edge of the forest again. Sunlight fell in patches through the thick wood. Uncertain why, she was disappointed it was too cold for flowers, like the bluebells she remembered coating the floor.
The nearest tree leaned down to her. She stretched up with a smile, brushing her fingers against the needles. Air whipped through the forest ahead of her, clearing a narrow path through the forest. The trees bowed away.
Autumn hesitated. They wanted her to enter the forest. She glanced at the house. It was too large for her to lose sight of easily. She moved into the tree line. Branches swept by her, closing the path behind her. Pine needles tickled her arms and neck, releasing bursts of fresh scent and warm magick.
The path ended at a downed tree thick enough to reach her waist. She rested her cane against it and hefted herself on top to stretch out on her back. The cone-shaped pine trees almost touched tips in the sky above. The blue was beautiful, clear and bright. The log beneath her grew warm, and she tensed for a moment, uncertain.
Magick, she reminded herself. It was everywhere. The earth was welcoming her, its rumble so faint, she barely heard it. The air was louder, happy and tinkling, chilling her as it danced around her while the earth tried to warm her.
She almost heard the earth grumble at the oblivious air. The air whistled and whirled away, ignoring the earth.
Autumn laughed out loud at the image in her mind of the two arguing.
They are happy you’re here.
She held her breath. Did she hear someone talk to her or was it in her head?
Someone was there. Autumn sat up and looked around. Her gaze settled on the large creature nearby, and she gave a faint cry of surprise. The auburn bigfoot was over seven feet tall with a face ugly enough to be a Halloween mask and thick hair covering his body.
Sam.
Autumn closed her eyes. His name came with the force of a memory that wouldn’t form, as if her mind and her memories were pushing at each other. As usual, her memories didn’t win. But she felt the same sense around Sam as she did Adam. They’d been – or would be? – friends. Good friends.
Maybe. Doubt and headaches followed every partial memory.
“You don’t eat kids do you?” she asked.
The smile that spread across the yeti’s face made it even uglier.
“Your name is Sam.”
Do you know me? he asked in her head.
“No. But I know your name,” she replied, frustrated. “Are you a nice … monster?”
The smile faded, and the song in the air turned mournful.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Don’t be sad.”
You have no reason to be sorry, he replied. I am not always a nice monster.
She shivered. Cold, she pushed herself off the log to lean more of her body against it without losing sight of the creature.
You are hurt. The yeti looked her over.
“No, I’m better,” she said.
Your elements have helped you recover very fast, but your body isn’t healed yet.
She sighed. “I know. But compared to how I was, I’m a lot better.”
You are more than your cane and scars.
“Exactly,” she said firmly. “It’s tiring to be treated different because of how you look.”
Sam’s laugh was a strange sound, like a cross between a yawn and a chortle. Autumn’s face grew hot as she realized what she’d said to the creature who’d never known what it was to be normal.
At least no one tries to hunt you, he said.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Sorry.”
The elements are happy. You make them happy.
“I don’t understand them.”
They do not speak in words. They speak in memories and emotion.
“Why do they talk at all?” she asked, puzzled.
Because you listen. He laughed again.
She didn’t understand his humor but smiled anyway at the horrifying expressions of amusement that crossed his face. The air played with him, too, pushing his hair around the way it did the curls that escaped her bun.
Sit. The earth will talk to us. He motioned to the ground.
Autumn hesitated then lowered herself into a sit, her right leg straight in front of her. It was achy and throbbing in the cold air after her workout, and she was relieved to take the weight off of it. She’d need the brace soon.
Push your leg against the earth, the yeti urged her.
“It doesn’t really move right yet,” she said self-consciously. Was he wondering why? She shifted and bent her good leg until her right leg was stretched on its side against the ground.
At once, the same soothing warmth she felt from Beck traveled through her leg. The achiness and pain dissipated.
“Ooohhh,” she breathed. “Earth magick?”
Sam nodded. You have two elements. Air and earth. Earth is the physical protector, the healer, calm and gentle. Air is the creative, thoughtful element that links the heart and mind. He sounded amused. They are opposites.
“So they were fighting earlier,” she assessed. “I needed this.” She sagged against the log. Earth magick filled her, warming her.
What does it tell you?
She pressed her hands to the ground. Tingling warmth drifted through her. She didn’t hear it say anything. Images were at the back of her mind, like a television playing in the distance. She couldn’t quite make it out.
Draw it into you until it meets the magick in your blood. Earth is the weaker of your two elements. It will only answer you when you are in direct contact with it. It should be easier for you to learn to control it. Air is more high-strung.
Realizing she’d been resisting, Autumn relaxed and let the earth’s magick roam her body, like Beck’s did. It felt weird to let the foreign power have full access to her. The earth pushed at her, and she pushed back. It pulled, and so did she. They played tug of war for a moment, until it became easy to draw and expel the earth magick at will.
The image began to clear. Memories, as Sam said, but not her memories. The earth’s. A t
ime when a river ran through this spot and earth, air and water elements were joined. A tiny tree sprouted in the river bank. The river ran dry as she watched, and the tree grew tall and strong for many years, surviving fires, droughts, avalanches and storms, until it was the oldest in the forest. And then it fell in a violent thunderstorm, landing in the dried up riverbed. The next winter, it was covered by snow. After a few years, a new kind of life sprouted from the tree: bluebells in spring.
“What does this stuff mean?” she asked.
The elements remember everything at all times. You are viewing what memories it wishes to share with you.
“But why?”
Only it knows for sure.
The images stopped, and the magick settled within her. Autumn opened her eyes, dwelling on the memories. The earth’s grumble was calm and quiet, content. She tested the magick and pulled it into her again. The past few weeks gave her a deeper appreciation for her body. She’d learned to listen to herself, to identify what muscle ached or which pain was serious and which was her body complaining. She was able to isolate muscles for workouts and recognize when she favored an injury before she began hurting.
The magick was exploring her wounds with a curiosity that made her uneasy. It moved through her blood like many of the intravenous drugs the doctors had forced into her. It tested her replaced knee and the scar in her neck, traveled along her spine and the tender muscles of her shoulder and arm. It pooled in her chest around the source of her own magick.
“What’s it doing?” she asked at last.
Learning about you. You are strong enough to wield it. You’ll be stronger with air, and the two will balance each other. You must only take care what you ask of them and use their magick for what they were intended: to protect and bring peace.
“Wow,” she murmured. “That’s amazing. I can really do that?”
It is potential only. The magicks can be used for good or evil, Light or Dark, for selfish reasons or to help others. The earth can protect or destroy. The air can obscure or enlighten. It is up to you how you use them.
“The orientation book doesn’t talk like you do. Do you teach at the school?”
I advise those who do, though. His gaze turned concerned. You are tiring.
She nodded, sensing the same from her body. Autumn stood with some difficulty. The pain relief faded and was replaced by a familiar, achy throb.
“How do I feel the magick of the air?” she asked as she reached for her cane. “I can hear it.”
Breathe it in. Let it flow through you.
Autumn took a deep breath. Magick tingled in her chest. The air pushed at her, and she balanced herself against the log, not understanding what it wanted.
Later. Sam’s voice was kind. You may be too tired to focus it right now.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Will I see you again when I come to the forest?”
Sometimes.
The enigmatic response made her roll her eyes. Sam was like everything else at the school: a little bit different.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled. With a shake of her head, she turned to the direction she thought led back to the school. As before, the forest and air cleared a path for her. She limped down it, her skin chilled by the time she reached the road. Her leg was swollen. She made her way back to the main house of the school and inside, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.
With another deep breath, she started up the stairs. It took a long time, as usual, and her leg was throbbing by the time she reached the top. The door to her room was open, and she groaned silently. Dawn had friends over. She heard the voices before she reached the door and braced herself for a miserable morning.
Dawn, Sonya and another girl were on Dawn’s bed, doing their nails. Sonya was nice to her. She smiled. Autumn returned the smile with effort and sat heavily on her bed for a quick rest.
“Dawn,” she said. “I need to hop in the shower. You want in the bathroom first?”
“No.” The blond girl didn’t even look at her.
Autumn looked twice. Dawn had borrowed another sweater. Irritated, Autumn said nothing and hurried into the bathroom before Dawn changed her mind. She took a long shower, until her skin was no longer chilled and the air was filled with steam. Content, she dried herself and stretched her leg. Cringing, she wiped away fog from the mirror.
The dark-haired girl wasn’t there today. Autumn wondered why briefly before deciding she preferred not to see some strange ghost in the mirror.
Dawn beat on the door. “Autumn! Hurry up!”
Autumn bit back a response. She dressed quickly in a shirt and underwear and exited to see Dawn waiting impatiently, her eyes on the streak of blue polish that had missed her nail and ended up on her fingertip. Autumn stepped aside as Dawn pushed into the bathroom before waiting for her to leave.
“How’s your leg?” Sonya asked as Autumn limped to her bed and lowered herself.
“Sore. I had to do my rehab exercises today,” Autumn said.
“Where does it hurt?”
Autumn looked up as Sonya sat on the bed beside her. The gorgeous girl was looking critically at her leg.
“Um, around the knee is the worst,” she replied.
“I learned a trick last week,” Sonya said. She placed her hand on Autumn’s knee. “Let me know if it works.”
Autumn waited. There was a tingle of warm magick, indicating Sonya was an earth element. The swelling eased.
“Yeah, it does,” Autumn said, surprised.
“It doesn’t last long,” Sonya said with a shrug. “But I figured –“
“Sonya, little help,” Dawn called from the bathroom.
“Coming.”
Autumn watched her go then strapped on the brace, cheered that the girl had thought to help her. The pressure helped the ache, and she pulled on pants before glancing over at the third girl. She didn’t remember seeing this girl with Dawn. She was a little older, with bright blue eyes and … different. Autumn cocked her head to the side, curious. There was something faint tracing the girl’s movement, a delayed shadow.
“Alexa, come here!” Dawn barked from the bathroom.
Alexa.
Autumn paused as she pulled on her boots. When the headache pricked her temple, she released the memory. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth the pain. She took her iPad and left the room for the picnic tables in the Square.
It was quiet at the dorms. There were a few teens out in the Square, two at the other picnic table and three around a bonfire. She didn’t know any of them and sat at the other picnic table to read more about the school.
The midmorning turned cloudy quickly. Autumn looked at the sky a couple of times. The fluffy clouds were white with gray bellies, not rain clouds but maybe … snow? She’d never seen snow before.
She shook her head. She hadn’t lived in Idaho her whole life and never seen snow!
Agitated by the sense of not being a part of her world, she starting reading again. The air tickled the back of her neck and settled around her. It felt like it was sitting on her. Uncertain what to do, Autumn took a deep breath, as Sam had told her. This time, magick filled her from the inside out. It moved fast inside her body, unlike the warm creep of the earth.
When she breathed out, a cloud formed. Fascinated, she poked it. It didn’t go the direction she pushed. Instead, it headed in the opposite direction, towards the forest.
Autumn followed curiously. The small cloud led her to the road again, towards the creek. The whispers stopped suddenly, reminding her they’d been there all along. Autumn’s eyes went to the memorial and the forbidden trail.
The cloud ventured into the forest, down the forbidden deer path.
Snow began to fall. Autumn looked up, a smile crossing her face as she took in the fat, lazy flakes tumbling from the sky. They melted on her exposed skin and clung to her clothes. Within minutes, her blue sweater was coated by white.
The cloud was back. It crossed her vision. She swatted at it, a
nd it went again into the forest.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” she told the air.
It pushed her forward. Sam was right. The air was more demanding than the gentle earth magick. With a frown, Autumn steadied herself with her cane and approached the trail. The same snow dusting the trees and road didn’t touch the trail or the trees lining it.
Like it was dead.
She took a step onto the trail, and the world fell silent and still. Outside the dead corridor, it was snowing. Inside, the air conditioner was set too low, and the air didn’t move.
The cloud continued down the silent path. Fear trickled through her, without her understanding why. She trailed the cloud as fast as she could go. Snow fell outside the strange corridor through the forest. The trail ended at a clearing, but the corridor continued, cutting a path through snow.
Her eyes took in the field. She didn’t remember any of this place. It was like Decker- a hole in her mind. If she came to the school before, had she simply never gone this route or met Decker? Or were they blocked, like the trail was from snow?
Across the clearing, the cloud entered another path through the forest, also immune to snow. Her leg began to ache from the cold. Sonya’s pain patch was fading. Autumn slowed without stopping. Her instincts – and the elements – wanted her to go this way. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find. So far, there was nothing unusual, outside of the path where no snow fell.
Crossing the clearing, she entered the forest once more and saw it open to the white-gray sky a short distance away. The dead corridor ended with the woods. Her fluffy guide dissipated where the trail ended. Snow covered the area before her, and she breathed in the cold air, marveling at the view.
The world seemed to fall away at the cliff ahead of her. In the distance, she saw sugar-coated trees on the other side of the massive canyon. She moved forward carefully, afraid to slip in the snow. As soon as she left the corridor, she heard the earth grumbling and the air murmuring. The breeze and snowflakes returned.
She neared the edge of the canyon. Its floor was covered in white. The whole world was white, pure, beautiful.
Her breath hung in front of her. Snow fell silently around her. Air magick’s lonesome wail pushed at her, nudging her away from the cliff. Autumn breathed in deeply, trying to pull it into her again.