The Essential Elements: Boxed Set

by Elle Middaugh

  I took a deep breath, solidified my resolve, and ran for the driver’s side door.

  Suddenly, my senses lit up. It felt like every hair on my body was raised. The fire in my veins stirred with anxious energy.

  A bomb was about to blow—not close, though, somewhere far to the left.

  I grabbed the door handle and hesitated. Should I try to stop that explosion or get this van far away as quickly as possible?

  Too late.

  A thunderous boom tore through the air. From behind a handful of buildings, I saw a giant plume of smoke and cascading wreckage. The ground trembled nervously under my feet.

  Oh god!

  I jumped into the van, but of course, there were no keys. I had no idea how to hotwire a car, and the one person who actually might was lying on a cot in Aunt Marge’s root cellar.

  This is ridiculous! There had to be some way around this mess, some way to outsmart Nicholai and prevent further damage. Elise might know how to hotwire vehicles, but she was busy actually saving lives. I needed to think of this answer myself, and fast.

  Rather than moving the van, I could instead try to dismantle the makeshift bomb. They were literally just bags of fertilizer, right? How hard could it be? During the bomb escapade at Sol and Lune, I’d been able to sense live wires due to their heat signatures; I should be able to do it again.

  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and reached out with my fire energy. It left my body in expanding waves, weakening the farther away it got, until I completely lost range. I didn’t need to reach very far, though. I felt the detonator…right at the bottom of the fertilizer pile.

  Son of a bitch.

  I grit my teeth, trying to come up with my next move. Any further use of my fire element was out of the question; I didn’t want to blow the damn van up myself. There was still water, though. Last time I checked, electronics could easily be destroyed by submerging them. I’d personally killed a number of cellphones that way.

  Tap, tap, tap!

  Sienna was at the window. “What’s taking so long?”

  “No keys,” I said before shooing her off. “Stay back. I’m going to try to kill the detonator, but if I can’t, you’ll want to be pretty far away.”

  She backed up, and I resumed my last-ditch efforts.

  As I willed it, water began pouring from my palm. It filtered between the plastic fertilizer bags and trickled down to the van floor. Hopefully enough of the water would leak into the detonator to short-circuit it. If not, I’d have to flood the whole bottom.

  Out of nowhere, the hairs on my arms stood up. The fire inside me stirred once again and my eyes widened. There would be another explosion, and it would be close this time—very close, as in, right there in that van.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead and spine as a wave of anxiety washed over me. I knew from experience that I wasn’t the greatest at controlling both elements at once, but it seemed the world didn’t give a shit about that. I would have to hold off the explosion with fire while simultaneously upping my water output. Something would have to give. One way or another, I had to make sure the detonator failed.

  Water poured faster from my palm. The carpet on the floor began to get soggy, but the heat signature still thrummed with life. Its intensity climbed higher and higher, setting my nerves on edge, until—click.

  My initial fear was that I’d failed, that I’d soon be blasted into next week and all those people would die. Then I realized, the click I heard? It was the final breath of the detonator. I’d succeeded in disabling it.

  I exhaled a massive sigh of relief, but there was little time to celebrate. There were other vans just waiting to explode.

  “Mark this one so we know it’s safe!” I yelled to Sienna as I started sprinting away. “I’m gonna try to get the others!”

  The closest van was the one by the doctor’s office. I went straight to the rear, threw open the doors, and immediately began dousing the floor. It only took a minute or two for the heat to fade from the detonator.

  I then rushed to the bowling alley and did the same thing. As I was blasting out the water, though, I heard a tiny voice yelling. Immediately, I stopped and listened harder.

  “Help me!” the little voice yelled.

  I ran around to the front of the van and scanned the horizon. One side of the bowling alley had crumbled already as a result of the nearby theater going down. In the rubble, I could see the upper torso of a child clawing at an unmoving slab of concrete. It’d pinned him from the waist down.

  “Help!” he screamed again.

  My feet kicked into action and I was there in seconds, shocked to find that I recognized his sweet little face. Olive skinned with big brown eyes and dark brown hair, he was the little boy from the river, the one I’d unnecessarily tried to save. The tables had certainly turned.

  “Hey buddy,” I said with a warm smile. “Remember me? I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

  He nodded quickly, terror still completely overwhelming him.

  I pulled on the concrete, but it wouldn’t budge. I pulled again, but it was no use.

  I smiled, despite the fear starting to consume me.

  “It’s okay. I have other ideas to try.”

  I quickly stirred a smoky wisp into my palm, watching as it bled into brilliant shades of blue. I pooled some water under the slab then froze it. It expanded, raising the concrete a fraction of an inch. I added more water and froze it too, repeating the process until it was high enough that he could pull his leg out from under it.

  The limb was surprisingly well intact, albeit bruised and a little scratched up. His other leg was wedged under a different piece of concrete.

  “You doing okay?” I asked as I began pooling the water and freezing it again.

  He nodded, though his bottom lip quivered.

  It broke my heart.

  How could Nicholai do this to people? Children, teens, the elderly, men, and women—all sentenced to slaughter in a madman’s quest for power, my grandfather’s quest. The unfairness of it all rattled me with rage.

  Once again, the fire roused in my blood. My senses prickled. I glanced at the van across the street. I hadn’t been able to disable it before rushing to help the boy, and now it was about to blow.

  Shit, shit, shit! I cried in my mind. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but saving the little boy’s life had suddenly become my main goal. With one hand, I jacked the slab higher and higher with ice, and with the other, I kept a finger on the pulse of the detonator. The second it decided to blow, I would have to be ready to smother it.

  The intensity in the wire began to grow.

  I added more water and froze it, lifting the concrete a bit farther. Just a few more rounds of expansion and he would be able to escape.

  The heat signature whined under the pressure. Any second, it would blow.

  I lifted the concrete another fraction of an inch, and finally the boy made some headway. He got his leg to move, but it sent a blood-curdling scream from his lips. I grabbed under his arms and slid him backward. His leg was bloody and strangely rubbery, like the bone had been crushed. I shook my head and looked away as nausea bubbled in my stomach. There was no way he’d be able to walk on it.

  I lifted him into my arms and started running.

  Click.

  This time, the click really did mean detonation.

  The bomb went off, and for a moment terror overcame me. All of my senses failed. It was like my whole body was numb and time was standing still. Then I began to feel the heat of the explosion rushing from yards behind us.

  Gritting my teeth, I pressed my legs harder, running faster.

  I channeled every ounce of energy into containing the blast, pushing against it with all the power I possessed. The explosion pushed back, testing the strength of my will, but I refused to back down. Finally, it halted, and after giving it a few more heavy pushes, it started retreating. I turned around and watched the cloud of fire reverse back into the van before d
isappearing completely.

  Genuine relief spread through me as my fire settled back down, and a disbelieving smile tugged at my lips. I’d done it. I had contained the blast and saved the little boy’s life.

  I could no longer run, though. I could barely even carry him, I felt so weak.

  We rounded the corner and started up the street. My heart fluttered and soared at the scene in front of us—rescue crews had arrived and had set up a mobile clinic at the bottom of the crater. I watched as people were pulled from crumbling buildings and treated with medical supplies.

  I slowed further as we reached the edge of the depression. Carefully, I lowered us into the crater and found the little boy a nurse.

  She quickly gave him a shot of something and eased him onto a gurney. After cleaning his leg wounds, she smiled at him. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “Kendrick,” he muttered, and my heart flew into my throat.

  That name was not exactly common, and I’d already heard it once off my mother’s lips. What were the odds that this boy and Amelia’s other spawn were one and the same? If the probability was as good as I feared, then this tan-skinned sweetheart was actually…my brother.

  The nurse looked over at me. “He’s going to need emergency surgery on this leg.”

  I nodded, completely at a loss for words.

  “Are you the mother?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head dazedly. “But I know her. I’ll tell her right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  I scribbled my cell number down on a chart. “Call me if anything changes.”

  “Of course,” she said with a nod.

  I wandered away, walking absently through the wreckage.

  If I could have Prett blood swimming in my veins and still be a good person, perhaps there was hope for little Kendrick as well. He certainly didn’t seem evil, by any means. He was only a child. The whole world lay before him. He could choose whatever path he wanted.

  And so could I.

  Determination solidified like ice in my blood as I suddenly understood what I needed to do.

  Nicholai had been right about one thing: Modernists, Traditionalists, and Elitists—they were all water under the bridge. The system had failed us. There was nowhere left to go but forward.

  Into ruin and revolution.

  And I would lead the way.

  ELEMENTAL BETRAYAL

  Chapter One

  I was waiting, hiding in the shadows between the shelves until the shopkeeper locked the doors and drove away. Sweat beaded at my hairline. A nervous exhale escaped my lips. I glanced around in the semidarkness, hoping I’d been right in assuming the little specialty store didn’t have any added security.

  Gargoyle and dragon statues guarded the ledges and mantelpieces while frosted potion bottles and crystalline trinkets dotted the shelves amongst the books. There were black cauldrons set out on display, crooked brooms, and pointed hats. Tarot decks and mythological trading cards lined a metal carousel from top to bottom, and crackers and cookies in individual wrappers lined another. The whole place had a stale yet calming aroma, probably thanks to the lavender incense sticks scattered about.

  It seemed pretty clear to me that the owner was an Elemental hiding in plain sight, a Modernist, if I had to guess. Though, if he really did have the book I was hoping to find, it was more likely he was an Elitist posing as a Modernist posing as a human.

  Confusing, I know.

  But that’s why I was sneaking around rather than simply asking the owner for help—if he really was an Elitist, he’d alert my grandfather to my presence in an instant and probably try to hold me hostage until he showed up.

  No thanks. Radford wasn’t that far from Northland, the Elitist home base, and I didn’t feel like taking any chances.

  I scanned the shelves, careful not to touch any of the spines. They were extremely old and dusty, and any contact would be a surefire sign that someone had been there.

  All right, Aunt Marge, I thought to myself. Where’s this book hiding?

  Ever since Chase had thrown a fireball through Cade’s chest three months earlier, Marge and I had been on a secret quest to figure out how the hell it hadn’t killed him. It was like the Earth itself had fed him power and kept him alive—something that should have been impossible. She’d checked all the books in her own library at the cottage but had come up empty. Now it was up to me to find the information we needed. Luckily, I was somewhat tenacious. I would persist until I found it, and if we could figure it out, we might be able to end the Elemental war before it became even more devastating.

  I rounded the corner and gazed at a new row of books. I didn’t have a particular title in mind, was just sort of hoping something would jump out at me—crack! I hissed and rubbed my head, glaring up above me. That damned dragon statue had come out of nowhere.

  Sighing, I grabbed the two books that seemed to hold the most potential: Religions of Nature and Elements of Darkness. I’d give the first one to Aunt Marge to study and keep the second one for myself; I had other, darker questions that needed answers, too.

  Suddenly, my Fire element perked up. Heat signatures drew nearer outside. I swallowed hard as a drop of sweat trickled down my back. It wasn’t just individuals strolling down the nighttime streets but a group of people milling about in front of the store. When I sensed them moving around the sides, I knew I needed to run. If they were trying to surround me, that could only mean one of two things: either the Elitists had found me or the Shadow Sect had. Either way, I would be in deep shit if I were caught.

  Sprinting, I burst through the back door and left it hanging wide open on its hinges. Yes, it would most definitely alert the store owner to my presence the next day, but at this point, I had to deal with threats in a most-likely-to-kill-me order.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I found them sprinting after me, super-fast, in formation, and dressed in black serpentine outfits with no openings but eye slits. The Shadow Sect.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  Wind howled through the darkened trees behind me, snapping branches in frustration. A wave of greedy vines slithered through the undergrowth, chasing but not quite catching me. Spheres of ice and fire tore across the night, though those at least wouldn’t hurt me if they hit. Still, it was pretty terrifying.

  We had a saying about the Sect, now that we knew a little bit more about them: if you’re caught by them, you’re never seen again.

  I had no intention of going out like that.

  As I left the town of Radford behind, I quickly studied the landscape through the dark. A dip in the mountain range lowered the forest into a wide bowl, and hills rolled on all sides. If I remembered correctly from the journey there, a lake should have been tucked into the bottom. If I could get there quick enough, I might be able to sneak off the soldiers’ radar completely.

  I ran downhill almost faster than my legs could carry me, weaving fluidly in and out of the trees as the lake came into view. Without any moonlight, it looked thick and black as tar. I ran to the edge, leapt into the air, and broke through the surface like slipping through feathers.

  Underneath, I could see everything clear as day. Algae-covered rocks paved the bottom with bright green grass peeking through the cracks. Cattails lined the water’s edge, and duckweed floated up above. Pieces of dirt and debris drifted by like dandelions on a breeze.

  As a Water Elemental, underwater eyesight was a definite perk, as was aquatic respiration. I took a deep breath, feeling the heavy weight of water filling my lungs, and began swimming, cutting through the current faster than I ever could have run on land.

  Swimming past a school of metallic-colored fish, I savored the silken feel of my element on my skin and the rejuvenating effects it had on my body. The longer I stayed submerged, the less exhausted I felt. It was as if I was suddenly stronger, more alive, more alert.

  I followed the lake to where it met the mouth of a river then swam upstream for a few miles, meandering around the sh
allow bends and random boulders that poked up above the surface. When I finally emerged, I was plunged back into the darkness of night. I blinked a few times to adjust my vision and glanced across the water behind me.

  The soldiers were nowhere to be found.

  Hopefully I’d lost them. I could no longer sense their body heat, which was a good sign. Even still, I kicked my feet back into a run. I was still a ways from home, and I certainly didn’t want to take any chances.

  An hour or so later, the forest opened up into a broad valley with a small town nestled at the bottom. Buildings and houses dotted the dale, the lights in their windows twinkling like stars in the midnight sky.

  Center Allegheny had been rebuilt from the ground up numerous times, and even Nicholai’s massive bombing hadn’t stopped them from reconstructing the town again. This was not Center Allegheny, though; Modernists had taken over that area. As such, the newly formed Revolutionists, as we liked to be called, had been forced to move one town over: Berwindale.

  I homed in on the illuminated stone steeple of a castle-like cathedral and pushed myself to traverse the last half-mile quickly. Our new house stood directly across the street from the church, and it was an enormous structure with tan siding and gray stone accents. Rushing inside, I shut and locked the door behind me—not that a flimsy metal lock would stop the Shadow Sect, but still.

  When we’d arrived here a few months ago, the whole area had already been abandoned. The previous inhabitants had obviously packed up their valuables and fled to the bigger cities, as most humans had. As such, we had our choice of accommodations. We picked one of the bigger houses in town so Dad, Cade, Xavier, Sienna, Kendrick, and I could all fit neatly into one.

  Yes, I was acutely aware of how odd that dynamic was: me, my best friend, my boyfriend, my boyfriend’s older brother, my father, and my half-brother who wasn’t related to my dad in the slightest. Our mother was apparently too busy being an Elitist to be a mom, and Kendrick’s father hadn’t been lucky enough to survive the bombing. Cade and Xavier’s dad was still balls deep in the Traditionalist campaign, and since the boys had switched sides, they’d also decided to switch houses. Technically, my dad was still a Modernist, but he’d insisted on us sticking together now that he was out of the navy.