The Lightning Conjurer

by Rachel Rener

  “I thought that it would be good for him to hear, you know, that he’s a wonderful and attractive person, but… I think it ended up bothering him more than if I had just lied and said there’s absolutely nothing between us.”

  “So… there is something between you?” I asked.

  “No! I mean… not really. I just… I do love him, Sophia. He’s the older brother I never got to have. And sometimes I guess it’s a little confusing because he’s done so much for me and my family, and objectively, you know, he’s very good looking…” she sighed. “But that’s where it ends. My feelings for him pale in comparison to the love I have for Aiden. So, for me, I’ve always been able to compartmentalize those feelings with no issues. But when I said this to Ori, he…”

  “Heard you professing your undying love for him?” I offered. Aspen nodded. “And so… he kissed you?” She nodded again. “Okay. But to be clear, you just told him that you loved him like a brother and that he’s a nice-looking man… and then he laid one on you?”

  “Yes?” she pulled her hands away from her eyes and looked at me, her wide, bright irises reminding me of a fawn’s.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I still fail to see how any of this is your fault. If Scarlett Johansson knocked on my door and told me that she was madly in love with me, I’d probably say something similar: ‘You’re a very attractive lady and maybe in another life, but my heart belongs to a different blonde-haired angel.’”

  At that, Aspen actually laughed! Whew. At least I wasn’t totally mucking this up.

  “So, how did Aiden find out?” I asked tentatively. “Did Ori tell him, or…?”

  “Oh my God, no!” she gasped. “If it had been Ori who’d told him, I honestly think Aiden would have turned him into toast. Like, really, really burnt toast. No, I told him. As soon as we were alone, I told him everything. I tried to start with the good part, that Ori had literally taken a bullet for me, and how I owed him my life for that. I thought that might soften the blow, or at least make Aiden hesitate before marching over to Ori and letting him have it.”

  Oh. I sighed. “But that just made it worse, didn’t it? Because men like Aiden have an inherent desire to protect the ones they love. And he wasn’t there to do it… but Ori was.”

  “I was so stupid not to think of that at the time,” she moaned into her hands. “Everyone thinks I’m this brilliant empath but I’m really just a bleeding-heart moron who keeps messing everything up.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Oh, it is… and on top of everything, I didn’t realize that my lack of anger towards Ori – well, after he saved my life at least; I could have slugged him at the hotel – would only make Aiden even madder. Like he had to compensate for the both of us.”

  I chuckled. “Eileen accuses me of the same thing. ‘Why don’t you ever get angry, Sophia?’ she always gripes. ‘I always have to be angry for the both of us!’ Now I sort of get it.” I grinned at Aspen mischievously. “So, did you subsequently kick and scream and throw your fist through a wall so Aiden could relax a little bit?”

  Another laugh. “Nope, I messed up even more – I proceeded to make excuses for the guy and told Aiden it was my fault Ori kissed me.”

  I rubbed my forehead with my free hand, then noticed my watch. We’d been gone for more than fifteen minutes. Not that I was complaining about enjoying the fresh air and a glimpse of Paris. But Eileen and the others would worry. Extending a hand to Aspen, I helped her up from the bench. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a martyr?”

  “Once or twice,” she grumbled, straightening her jacket.

  As we started to walk back to the Chapter, I glanced in her direction. She was staring at the ground, her hands shoved in her pockets.

  I put on my best encouraging smile. “Well, now that I understand the situation, I can firmly say that it’s not your fault. Well, it is a little bit your fault. You are very pretty and charming,” I winked. “I’m pretty sure Eileen had a mild crush on you back in the day as well, partially because you kept answering your video calls half-naked.”

  “Oh, God, she told you about that?”

  “Yes,” I laughed. “I got a kick out of it.”

  “Ugh, I’m so mortified,” she moaned. “Those new cell phones were really tricky after living as a hermit for three years in an electricity-free cabin!”

  “At the risk of sounding presumptuous, may I say something?” I asked gently.

  “Always.”

  “The whole thing with Aiden and Savannah…” I began. She immediately stiffened. Okay, so I wasn’t imagining it. “Look, Aiden has no interest in her. I mean it. I might not be an empath but anyone with eyes can see the wincing, the inching away, the forced smiles. You have nothing to worry about there. He’s a chivalrous guy who’s just putting on a good face.”

  Aspen stopped in her tracks and turned to face me. “But she saved his life, Sophia. The most narcissistic woman I’ve ever met saved his life! That has to mean something to him. And they also had that fling all those years ago… Oh God, and they were naked! Right next to each other, in a hot spring! And… And…”

  “And what?” I asked levelly.

  “And… I’ve just got nothing in that department.”

  I cocked my head, puzzled. “What department?”

  She gestured to the front of her jacket. “The… you know…” she mumbled almost inaudibly. “She’s just so… confident. And… and…” her pink face suddenly got redder, if that were possible. “…Bosom-y.”

  It took everything in me not to burst out laughing. “Bosom-y?”

  “Oh, you know what I mean! I mean, it’s like comparing the Taj Mahal to a broom closet. I just could never compete.”

  At that, I really did burst out laughing. I felt terrible, but I couldn’t help it. “Oh, Aspen. Aiden can’t take his eyes off of you. Even when Savannah is nattering in his ear, ample cleavage bulging out in full force, he’s glued to you. He absolutely adores you. So instead of worrying about prominent breasts and horny, boundary-crossing Israelis, why don’t you go take Aiden into a broom closet? There’s one right across the hall from the meeting room.” There, I crossed my arms in satisfaction. That kind of levity is exactly what Eileen would have used to cheer her up… right?

  Except… Aspen was gawking at me wordlessly. My shoulders slumped. Oh, no. I’d offended her, hadn’t I? I bit my lip, trying to come up with a suitable apology.

  She spoke first. “Sophia… that is the best idea I’ve heard all week.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. But are you sure it’s not… I don’t know… completely and wildly inappropriate? I mean, there’s been so much bad news and tragedy lately and—”

  “That’s all the more reason to be close to the ones we love,” I interrupted with a smile. “Even if it means cloistering up with them in a dusty broom closet.”

  With a wide smile on her face and two fresh spots of color splashed on her cheeks, Aspen marched toward the Chapter, this time with a brisk bounce in her step. I nearly had to jog to keep up with her, which was rather difficult in four-inch stilettos. After heading downstairs from the café, I gave her a quick hug before we made our way back to the meeting room, then quietly took my seat. Instead of taking her previous seat beside mine, she strode over to the other side of the table where Savannah was chattering away at a very polite-yet-miserable-looking Aiden, and whispered something in his ear. Puzzled, he stood up, leaving Savannah to talk to empty air, and followed Aspen out the door.

  A moment later, Eileen settled in next to me, handing me a chocolate croissant with a rather large bite taken out of it as she glanced at her watch. “Where’s Aspen?” She looked around the room. “And Aiden, too! Geez, and here I thought I was late!”

  I shrugged one shoulder, doing my very best to appear both puzzled and nonchalant. When Aspen and Aiden finally shuffled through the door about ten minutes later, both looking red-faced and galvanized and more than a little bit disheveled, I bit
back a grin. Eileen, it turned out, wasn’t the only one who could dish out good advice.

  Chapter 17

  ater that day, shortly before Ori and Kaylie would take to the stage, the rest of us made our way to the Paris Chapter’s pride and joy: a brand-new auditorium with enough stadium seating for several thousand people and a mechanized, retractable ceiling that revealed the largest skylight I’d ever seen. It was easily twenty-five feet in diameter, a colossal domed lens that allowed its inhabitants to bask in the light of day. In fact, it was the one room at the Paris Chapter, apart from the apartments and café, that received any natural light at all. I had to force myself not to stare at the blue sky above as we scrambled to find our seats in the overflowing auditorium, an ordeal made even trickier by the fact that Aspen typically garnered a lot of attention. Luckily, a row of seats had been reserved for us near the front, which was roped off from the rest of the crowd. I was once again seated with Eileen on my left and Aspen on my right – except this time, she and Aiden were seated side by side and holding hands. Savannah, who didn’t look particularly happy, sat in the row behind us next to Daichi, Kumiko, and the rest of the Tokyo Chapter heads.

  The minister had returned to the stage to personally greet the European Asterian Community and reiterate some of her earlier remarks, all of which emphasized compassion, patience, and camaraderie in the face of uncertainty. When her eyes settled on us, she smiled and set down her prepared notes.

  “My fellow Asterians, before I relinquish the stage, I must confess something to you. When Barish Hayatcı, the Asterians’ last great Magistrate, was taken too soon from this world by the same rhetoric, the same violence that threatens to infiltrate our Community today, I had no intention of stepping in to take his place. That was never my plan, nor his.”

  Hushed whispers permeated the crowd. Even Eileen and I exchanged confused looks; Mei was always one of Barish’s closest allies.

  “No,” Mei smiled wanly, “it was always the Magistrate’s intention for someone far more extraordinary and capable than I to take his place and usher in a grand new era.” Her eyes settled squarely on Aspen as she spoke those words, inciting hushed whispers and murmurs to overt gasps. “I must confess that I have not been a perfect minister – certainly not the powerful, uniting, and driving force that Barish’s first choice would have been.”

  I glanced at Aspen, who was shrinking in her seat. Aiden had wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, but that didn’t prevent every eye in the auditorium from burning a hole into the back of her head. I wasn’t necessarily surprised that Barish had wanted Aspen to take his place, but why Mei thought it was a good idea to bring that up now, I couldn’t be sure.

  The minister continued, “I have done my best to restructure our new government in a way that benefits its constituents first and foremost, and to put my full effort into serving you, my Community. My family. But I must apologize from my heart for my recent failings: my hesitancy, my restraint, and, perhaps worst of all, my inability to make you feel secure and protected in a world that is growing ever more complex. It is for that reason that I have decided not to run for a second term. You deserve a powerful minister who will serve you with both passion and compassion, who will have the youth and vigor and boldness to protect our Community and the world in which we live.”

  I listened to Mei’s raw speech, mesmerized. She had been one of the most successful figures in recent history, a humble and soft-spoken leader who’d sacrificed herself for the greater good, just as she was doing now. I only wished she could directly say that the Community should vote for Ori and not his opponent. That the very moral fabric of our society depended on the outcome of this election. But there was very little concrete evidence to link Kaylie to the violent crimes that had been committed, and none of the Elementalists in custody blamed her for their actions; she was merely their inspiration. And so, Mei, for the moment, was forced to adhere to ceremony while her own undercover teams worked to expunge the blood that Kaylie’s dangerous philosophies had spilled. It was frustrating and frightening – but without a tangible crime to pin against her potential successor, the minister’s hands were tied.

  “In a few moments,” she continued, “you will hear from two Parliament members, Prime Representatives Ori Levitan and Kaylie Branson, who have dutifully served their communities for the last four and a half years. In a few months, one of these speakers will be chosen as your next minister. While I am unable to endorse one over another, I urge you to listen with great curiosity and open minds, and to vote with your heart and soul, not heightened, transient emotions.”

  “I guess that’s the closest we’re going to get to an endorsement,” Eileen whispered. “And it sounds like the folks in the back disapprove.”

  I stiffened. Were people actually booing? I twisted around in my seat but couldn’t make out the source of the noise.

  “Thank you for entrusting me to lead you in the interim,” Mei said, bowing her head to the audience. “I look forward to witnessing our bright future in the days ahead.”

  Applause erupted in the auditorium, along with raucous shouts and a good number of – yes, this time I clearly heard it – boos. Eileen and I exchanged anxious glances as we clapped, doing our small part to drown out the jeers. As Mei strode off the stage, a moderator emerged to take her place. He placed a second podium beside the one Mei was using as a massive flag unfurled behind him, exposing the five-pointed star of the Asterians. Upon seeing that, the cheering in the auditorium grew louder. Ori and Kaylie stepped onto the stage from opposite sides. He was wearing a tailored black suit and looked rather dapper, albeit nervous. And she – well, she was a sight, that’s for sure. Her short black dress clung to every curve and dip of her body, accentuating her voluptuous frame. And her red hair tumbled down to her shoulders in cascades, fiery and radiant. I hadn’t seen her in person in a long time, but I was struck by the confidence she exuded on that stage. My previous, limited, interactions with her always painted the same picture of a quiet, soft-spoken, yet extremely observant woman. But as she strode to her podium, arms outstretched and basking in the applause, any past perception of shyness or timidity was quickly eradicated from my mind.

  The moderator, a well-groomed Electromancer with tan skin and silver hair, stood between their podiums and waited for the noise to die down. As soon as it was quiet, he snapped his fingers. The house lights dimmed while the stage lights intensified. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he boomed, “please put your hands together for our candidates—”

  “Oh my God, I’m so nervous,” Eileen squeaked before the moderator was halfway through his first sentence. “Aspen, are you nervous?”

  “‘Nervous’ is putting it extremely lightly,” she muttered as she gnawed on a hangnail. “I hope he’ll be okay up there.”

  “Shh!!” Savannah hissed from behind us.

  “—please hold all applause until after the opening remarks are delivered, and then again until the end of the debate. And now, without further ado, Prime Representative Ori Levitan of the Denver Chapter has won the coin toss to speak first!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Moderator,” Ori said, clearing his throat. We all knew how nervous he was, but I thought he was holding himself together admirably. “And thank you to everyone here today, especially those who traveled from far distances.” His eyes fluttered to Aspen, who smiled and nodded at him in encouragement. “Right. Um, before we begin, I’d like to start by expressing my sincere condolences to the non-Elementalists; the thirty-four people, no different in heart or soul from you or me, who lost their lives this week, and to their family members who will never know how or why they died. And I’d also like to vow, here and now, to never let such an atrocity happen again under my watch…”

  “You tell ‘em, Ori,” Eileen whispered.

  I, too, found myself beaming as he gave a powerful elegy that echoed Mei’s: having love for our neighbor, compassion for our fellow humans, and both patience and courage to fix things in due course
, in due time. When he finished speaking, the audience applauded loudly enough to drown out much of the jeering from the back. This time, when I stood with the others to give him a standing ovation, I could make out about three dozen hagglers holding painted signs, all emblazoned with that awful black star. Why were they even allowed in the auditorium with that hate-filled sigil? But when I turned to ask Daichi about it, his seat was already empty, along with Kumiko’s and several others.

  When it was Kaylie’s turn to speak, Eileen took one of my hands while Aspen gripped the other. I couldn’t tell which of the three of us was trembling the worst. What was Kaylie’s response going to be? Restrained and diplomatic or… or something else?

  “I want to thank my opponent for having the courage to stand up here and address all of you,” Kaylie’s voice rang out. She didn’t use her microphone, just a cone of Wind to amplify her voice. “Especially since most of what he has to say poses a direct threat to all of you.”

  “Here we go,” Eileen muttered.

  “No one wants to see blood spilled, least of all me,” Kaylie continued, stepping in front of her podium to face the crowd. “Those of you who know me personally can attest that I am a generous, peace-loving person. But when someone harms me – or worse, harms people I love – I won’t – I can’t – simply stand back and let that happen. The fact of the matter is that Deficients have posed a threat to our very existence since the dawn of time. And while my opponent may stand here and insult all of you by saying ‘we’re all human, so we’re all the same,’ I know that most of you won’t accept such inherently flawed logic. I’m frankly disturbed that Mr. Levitan is also doubling down on the Order’s unofficial motto of ‘Don’t reveal, don’t tell, don’t defend’ – a dangerous and lamentable custom that has plagued our organization for centuries.”