“Lesson?” Hadrian said with raised eyebrows.
“Clearly not,” Amarine said. Her short, tea- blue hair tossed like a choppy ocean as she shook her head.
“That was experimentation,” Hadrian said, clasping his hands to conceal the fading scars on them.
“You nearly electrocuted yourself, stupid,” Tristan said. “You poked a puddle of water with your taser gun set to high, and fired. The voltage traveled up the gun.”
“I thought lightning had struck me,” Hadrian said.
Tristan smoldered. “It goes to show that looks aren’t everything,” he said.
Hadrian put a hand through his long, thick hair. Its windswept look could hardly be tamed, and the same could be said for Samantha’s longing for him from the adjacent table. Hadrian winked at her. She melted a few inches into her chair. Her eyes became unfocused as she daydreamed, which no doubt, involved stripping Hadrian naked.
“What were you saying, Tristan?” Hadrian asked. His smile laughed at him.
Tristan continued to fume. He clenched his narrow jaw. “Anyways, Karena, as I was saying, the storm is something they haven’t seen before. I’ve been personally monitoring the wind strength and direction, and it seems to swirl like a vortex over Archelm,” he said.
Karena nodded, not at all interested in his talk. She looked around for Captain Valmar, but he had yet to appear.
Hadrian nudged her. He said, “Looks like Asher has the hots for you.”
Tristan jerked around to see, bumping his side into the table. He winced from the pain.
She glanced over at Asher, who was making his way to his table and glaring at her as he did so. Embers tumbled off of his shoulders.
She jabbed Hadrian in the side with her elbow. “Haha, very funny, not. Captain Valmar almost gave him basement duty,” Karena said.
Hadrian snorted. “Nothing makes the scientists more nervous than a Fire in there with all of their precious stuff. They would be breathing down his neck worse than a dragon,” he said.
“They pretty much banned you from the basement,” Tristan said, wrestling his way into the conversation.
“I thought it was quite amusing to do a play with the taxidermy animals,” Hadrian said.
“Until one of the heads of a rare specimen rolled off,” Amarine said. She put a hand to her face in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. “Note to self, never get put in the basement with Hadrian again. Though punching Yovanna was worth it.”
“She was asking for it, just like Asher today. I wish Captain Valmar had given him basement duty. That would’ve added insult to injury after the duel a week or so ago,” Karena said.
“I know right,” Amarine said. “That was an incredible win you did. I still can’t get over it.”
“After you tackled him, I’m sure you had to shower a few times to get his smell off of you,” Tristan said.
“Ewww, Tristan, you’re weird, or at least weirder than usual,” Amarine said with a repulsed look. She leaned away from him.
“It wasn’t like skin on skin contact,” Hadrian said, his eyes straying to Samantha, whose uniform top had somehow unbuttoned itself to show her ample cleavage. Her head was propped up on one arm, and her eyes darted back and forth from her table to Hadrian to see if he had noticed.
Hadrian continued, “In case you didn’t know, Tristan, and I can’t blame you if you haven’t had experience in these kinds of things, but it’s usually only when skin rubs against skin when smell transfers due to sweat, natural body odor, or perfume. Not suit to suit.”
Tristan’s thin lips pressed down until they disappeared. His eyes narrowed into slits.
“But lowering his core temperature was genius,” Hadrian said, picking up where they had left off with the original conversation piece.
“I’m sure the other ice elementals will take note of her move, though I’m not sure if they’ll be brave enough to carry it through if they do partake in any duels next year against a Fire elemental,” Amarine said.
Captain Valmar made his entrance, and the noise in the room reduced to a whisper and everyone turned to face him. He stood in the center, where everyone could see him. One of his large hands gripped a stack of folders.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said, turning to each group to look at them.
Everyone chimed a good morning to him.
“Let me start off with saying, it’s raining.”
Hadrian raised his hand.
“No,” Captain Valmar barked, knowing well that Hadrian was going to crack a joke or ask something annoying.
Hadrian lowered his hand with a pout on his face.
“So stock up the trucks and use them. No motorcycles in this weather. All Fires with fire abilities should keep a lighter on hand just in case for defensive purposes. Those with Air abilities, keep an eye on water depth. I don’t want any drownings, so stay in pairs at all times. If you encounter a water creature that is submerged, or has the ability to swim, then let another team get to it, unless you feel you can handle it. I’m restricting all teams that don’t have a Water elemental in them to tackle solidarity, aquatic creatures that are below a level four. Do not attempt anything that could be potentially dangerous. Any questions?”
No one raised their hand. The rain had been ongoing for two days already, so any questions that had occurred to them had already been voiced.
“The Oaksvale Cemetery has flooded in the Earth district due to the Ranarra River breaching its banks. I need several teams to go in there and make short work of the mess. The crypts have flooded, and some of the coffins have even escaped and have been seen floating down the river. Since every last water pump in the city is being used, you will need to remove the water with your abilities. Make sure to return the coffins. A restoration team can dry out the coffins. As far as the skeletons inside, there’s no need to disturb them. I’ll be overseeing this task since it requires oversight. Amarine, I elect your team. Owen, I want your team. And, Priscilla, I would like your team to join us.”
Amarine raised her hand.
“Yes?” Captain Valmar asked.
“But it’s still raining. It’ll keep flooding until it stops raining.”
“It has been predicted that the rain will reduce in intensity in a few hours, and dissipate completely by tomorrow. Parts of the Ranarra River are being diverted as we speak, and if it hasn’t already, it’ll stop flooding its banks within the hour.”
There weren’t any other questions, so Captain Valmar handed them the folders, each containing their assignments, addresses of the afflicted places, and any other notes pertaining to what they would be after. Their folder was grey. Karena glanced over at the map to see the grey string that strung together the different pins. Their route would begin in the Earth district and end in the Air district.
“If there aren’t any questions, then that’s all for today. Amarine, Owen, Priscilla, I’ll meet you at the cemetery.”
“Wow, he’s actually going outside,” Hadrian whispered. “I thought he was joking.”
“That would be the fourth time this year,” Tristan said. He was like a walking and talking encyclopedia and history book.
“You should’ve been an accountant,” Hadrian said. “You have the hair for it too.”
Self-conscious, Tristan raked his fingers across his carefully combed side part.
Amarine went through the folder. When she was done, they got up and left for the garage. Inside the spacious area were rows of motorcycles and trucks lined up, facing the cargo doors. Mechanics with their cups of coffee huddled next to the grease-smeared pieces of a transmission that they had yet to reassemble. In the repair bay, on stilts, was the truck the transmission belonged to. A massive dent had yet to be hammered out from its side where a drake had rammed its head into the truck.
Nonmagical folks, such as the mechanics, had a knack for gearcrafting, which was the art of creating metal parts and assembling them into beasts of transportation or other devices to better their
lives. Long ago, gearcrafting had been outlawed. Even to that day, outside of the Sundarin Nation, it was viewed as demonic possession. But people were beginning to see the value of tesla coil steam generators, so views were improving over time.
Before heading out, they checked and restocked the supplies of their chosen truck. Karena drove, feeling little concern about the puddles or submerged streets because they were in the truck. She plowed through a pool-like puddle. The truck sank its three-foot tires into it and water splashed like a tidal wave across the hood. She pressed the gas pedal harder, and the truck let loose a deep, guttural roar as it accelerated out of the puddle.
“This isn’t a boat, Karena!” Tristan shouted from the backseat.
“Relax, it’s unlikely we’ll drown in two feet of water, that is unless Karena flips the truck,” Hadrian said.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
They splashed their way into the Earth district, leaving behind the city center. Each district had its own unique feel and look to it, therefore, it was easy to tell where one district ended and another one began. Overgrown or barely contained vegetation evoked the feeling that they had stumbled upon a vast village that was being devoured by a wild forest. Vines and trees either strangled the houses, or veiled them from sight. The bushes and grass, if unmowed and untrimmed, made the property look deserted. Horses and livestock often occupied the front and backyards. The ancestral lines with the strongest of Earth elemental blood in them were often to blame for such unkempt appearances. Those with mixed blood, whomever they might be, added much needed gardenship to the Earth district before the vegetation swallowed up the area.
Their truck rumbled down dark and tunneled boulevards. A lot of people were out in the rain to tend to the trees by pruning away wind-snapped branches. The trees were cherished. However, a sadness caused by greed and ignorance in the distant past haunted them. The Earth elementals eagerly awaited the return of the Arboreals, which were moving trees with their own consciousness. But the last time one had been seen was over six hundred years ago. The Arboreals were guardians of the forests, and they had perished with the forests that people had cleared for their settlements, or had fled to uninhabited lands before they could be exterminated like common pests. Like all full-blooded Earth elementals, Hadrian sometimes talked about them and wanting to find them again.
Karena turned onto a gravel road where a pair of centaur statues stood guard on both sides of the road’s entrance. The suspension of the truck rocked them back and forth until the road leveled out. The truck easily sped through the five inches of standing water on the road. To their left and right, the cemetery looked like a pond. Headstones peered above the waters, while statues and obelisks rose out of the deluge in a heavenly fashion. The mausoleums, which were the round, domed buildings, had red tape surrounding them. The entrance to the couch crypts were inside of them.
When the cemetery had run out of space, the Council of the city had elected to build mausoleums and couch crypts in underground vaults beneath the cemetery in order to house the dead. And it was those vaults that would be filled with water, coffins, and whatever else that had gotten in.
“I spot some coffins floating on the water,” Amarine said from the backseat.
“The wood would make them buoyant,” Tristan said. “They obviously rose with the water, and when the water spilled out of the crypts and the mausoleums, so did they. The most that could’ve left each crypt would be between fourteen and sixteen since the crypts are gated off into sections due to certain reasons we all know of.”
“Reasons that are superstitious,” Hadrian corrected him. “The dead don’t rise anymore.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Tristan replied. “I would rather die than witness history repeat itself in such a terrible way.”
Karena parked in what she hoped was a parking spot. She couldn’t see the lines on the asphalt due to the water. In front of the closest mausoleum, fifty feet away, an elderly man holding a yellow umbrella stood by the red tape, looking through the open doors as though waiting for someone, or to be let in.
“What’s he doing out here?” Tristan asked.
“Waiting his turn,” Hadrian said.
Karena gasped. “Hadrian,” she said.
“That was insensitive,” Amarine said, and punched him in the shoulder.
“What? I couldn’t imagine why else he would be standing there.”
“Bad joke,” Karena said.
She yanked on the door handle and kicked open the door. She jumped out. Water flew up onto her pants. The water rolled off, refusing to absorb. She felt the rain soak her head, so she covered herself with her hood. She slammed the door shut, and waded through the water to the mausoleum. The man heard them and turned towards them. Tears welled up in his eyes. The umbrella he held shook, but no wind gusted it.
Amarine said, “Hey, it’s a bit cold out here. It’s not raining as hard as before, but still, you shouldn’t be out here.” She put her arm around the elderly man.
He drew out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes with it. Choked and hoarse, he said, “My wife, her remains, they’re in there. I checked the cemetery, but her coffin didn’t float out and I’ve been watching to make sure it doesn’t. I miss her terribly.”
“We’re here to pump the water out. What section is your wife’s coffin in?”
“Section five, row two, shelf number eleven.”
“We’ll make sure her coffin is in good shape. Where do you live? I can give you a ride home if need be,” Amarine said, and led the elderly man away.
Their job didn’t deal with just cryptids, but people as well. They were trained to feel and display empathy, and keep people safe.
Karena watched the other trucks from headquarters pull in. Each team took a separate mausoleum to attend to. The rain was due to dissipate, so their efforts to drain the crypts wouldn’t be in vain. A groundskeeper floundered over to the trucks to greet Captain Valmar and talk with him.
When Amarine returned, they ducked under the red tape of the mausoleum and went through the open doors.
“They should’ve closed the doors before the flooding happened,” Tristan irritably said.
Karena stepped around him. “Oversight does happen,” Karena said, preferring to be understanding, rather than critical of others.
Taking her turn as encyclopedia, Amarine explained, “A note in our folder about this assignment stated that sometimes these doors open and close without warning due to paranormal influences, and that there isn’t anything that can be done about it. It’s a place for the dead, and consequently, the spiritual world is closer here than other areas. So that could explain why they’re open. The groundskeeper is diligent in his job, and can’t control what sometimes happens outside of it.”
Inside of the mausoleum, a coffin had been placed on the center, waist-high, marble platform. It contained a body from someone who had died in the past couple of days. The lid had been shut, meaning that the grieving process was over and soon it would be moved to one of the shelves recessed into the rounded walls of the mausoleum. After a week there, it would be moved down into the underground crypts to stay forever.
Weak sunlight streamed in from the windows above. Potted plants suspended from the ceiling gave off a pervading, aromatic scent of orchids, even though the flowers were nowhere to be seen yet. Karena glanced at the recesses in the walls; all of them were occupied with coffins.
Amarine trudged to the other side of the center platform and the coffin on it.
“The stairs are here, and a coffin that floated up,” Amarine said.
They went over to look too. The darker shade of water marked where the stairs descended. About eleven feet of water stood between them and the bottom floor. The water hadn’t gone down, but at least it wasn’t gushing out. Amarine directed them to take the coffin on the marble platform outside, so that when she and Tristan got to work pumping out the water, her with her elemental powers, and him with h
is magical spells, they wouldn’t disturb or dislodge it from its perch.
While they were busy with lowering the water level, Karena and Hadrian searched the cemetery for the escaped coffins, and dragged them back. They used rope to tether them to the nearby trees until they could return to the couch crypts. Captain Valmar drifted from mausoleum to mausoleum, overseeing their efforts, helping them, and letting them work without any interference of his.
After an hour of nonstop use of their powers and only a quarter of the water removed, Tristan and Amarine were exhausted. Captain Valmar shooed them away to their next assignment. The afternoon shift team would continue making progress, and then hopefully, they could finish the next day.
As Karena reversed the truck, and put it into forward, Amarine and Tristan argued in the backseat about where they should stop for lunch in a few hours. Karena cruised through the waterlogged driveway. The same elderly man they had seen before was making his way back to the mausoleum to find out if they had finished pumping out the water. She slowed down and started rolling down her window to talk to him.
“He’s determined, isn’t he?” Hadrian said.
“That’s what love will do to you. Death and life might physically separate him and his wife, but not spiritually or emotionally,” Karena said.
They pulled up alongside him, and she informed him that due to the volume of water in the crypts, it might not be until tomorrow when the crypts would be restored to their normal, dry conditions. He nodded, wished them well, and continued his way to the mausoleum to be near where his wife’s remains were kept.
Chapter 4
The next day was yet another day of gray skies. A misty drizzle replaced the rain. It felt like a plush blanket on Karena’s face, though no one else probably thought it was as pleasant.
On their drive back to the Oaksvale Cemetery, the streets were still a mess, despite everyone’s best efforts to clear them now that the brunt of the storm was over. People had taken time off from work to help, and therefore, half of the businesses in the city were closed. This time she eased through the standing water in the streets, rather than plowing through them. She didn’t want to splash water onto the people outside who were assisting in the cleanup process.
Veins of Ice Page 4