Elemental Heir (Ridley Kayne Chronicles Book 3)

by Rachel Morgan

  The sun was rising as the group returned. Ridley had half fallen asleep with her head tilted back against the wall, but she forced her eyelids open at the sound of voices. Dad, sitting beside her, had properly fallen asleep. Ridley stood, daring to hope that Nathan would deliver good news. But the expression on his face—and the fact that there was no Archer among the group of people who’d just returned—was answer enough.

  Nathan sighed and shook his head. “He wasn’t there.”

  6

  Ridley slipped away a little after dawn. She’d known from the moment Callie told her what happened that she would go after Archer. The only thing that might have stopped her was confirmation that he was no longer alive.

  The supplies Nathan had mentioned to Ridley included not only shelves and shelves of canned food, but a collection of gas masks as well. As Ridley hastily dropped a mask and a few cans into a backpack she’d ‘borrowed’ without permission, she heard Malachi’s voice in her mind: Don’t those things last forever? It had been only a couple of weeks ago, but that conversation felt as if it had taken place in another lifetime. That was the day they’d taken refuge in an old hotel in the wastelands near Lumina City. The day Ridley had finally given herself over to the magic in the elements, desperate to find Archer after he’d vanished. Magic had helped her then and it would help her now. She would find him again.

  Dad would be furious once he realized she was gone, but she doubted he’d be surprised. Hopefully, when he stopped to think about it, he would understand. Nathan, who was turning out to be a bit of a dictator, would be irate too. He had actually used the words ‘I forbid you to leave.’ Ridley and her father had raised equally stunned eyebrows at that. She’d almost responded with ‘You’re not my father,’ and if Dad had been given the chance to say anything before someone else tugged on Nathan’s arm, demanding his attention, he probably would have pointed out the same thing.

  This community of fugitives that Ridley was now part of might make major decisions together, but anyone was free to leave if they wanted to. Free to seek out other elementals hiding in the wastelands. Free to return to whatever city they’d fled or attempt to start over in a different one. There was nothing stopping Ridley from doing the same thing.

  Nathan had promised that someone ‘more experienced’ would go after Archer, but there was no one who knew Lumina City better than Ridley. She’d been sneaking through its streets and inside its buildings for years. Of course, this advantage would mean nothing if Archer had been taken somewhere else by a different Shadow Society chapter, but Ridley had no way of knowing yet if that was the case. Besides, she doubted anyone else felt the same sense of urgency she did. Four bodies had been found when Nathan and his team returned to the reserve, and everyone else was now accounted for. Archer was the only one who’d been taken. It seemed Dad may have been right about him being recognized. It was this that gave Ridley real hope he was still alive.

  Once she was soaring amid the air currents above the mountains, she let herself fragment and gave herself over to the wind, letting it sense the urgency in her heart and the desperate need to go faster, faster, faster. The kind of speed she could never have reached if she had Dad or another non-elemental with her.

  She cast her mind out repeatedly but received no hint of Archer’s whereabouts in return. That in itself was an answer: He was most likely within a city, blocked from magic’s reach by a multitude of arxium-reinforced buildings. Lumina City? Or one of the others? It didn’t matter. All her pacing earlier had given her time to come up with a plan. If she couldn’t sense exactly where Archer was, she would get an answer from a Shadow Society member.

  The only one she knew of was Lumina City’s mayor, but she was nervous to confront him directly, even with a gas mask on. Not just for her own safety, but for the safety of the community she’d left behind. She didn’t plan to give up their location, but the mayor might somehow get it out of her anyway.

  No, the safer option was to get information from a distance and without Mayor Madson knowing about it. If Ridley could remotely access his devices, she could see his calendar, his text messages, his emails. Perhaps she could even listen in on his calls. She didn’t know. But there was someone who did know. Someone who would happily break the law for Archer. Someone who had the kind of influence and contacts that might help her to get valuable information even if the device-hacking plan didn’t work out.

  Lilah Davenport.

  It was twilight when Ridley became aware of Lumina City nearby, but whether it was the first night or the second, she couldn’t be sure. She’d lost all concept of time and place while in her fragmented form, speeding too quickly above the earth to make sense of anything. She hadn’t stopped for rest or food. She hadn’t felt the need for either.

  As easily as the last time she’d done it, she swooped through Aura Tower’s main entrance, up an elevator shaft, and into the apartment below the penthouse. The Davenports’ front door was lined with arxium, but, as Ridley had pointed out to Archer, their floor was not. A conjuration that might possibly have been illegal—even in the days when magic was permitted—easily created a hole for her to access the penthouse.

  No one was home. Invisible, Ridley made her way to Lilah’s bedroom, only wondering now what she would do if Lilah didn’t come home for hours. How long was she willing to wait? Without a clear answer in mind, she slipped into the walk-in closet and allowed herself to become visible. The sudden weight pulling down on her shoulders reminded her of the bag she’d completely forgotten about. Without removing it, she sat on the floor and practiced some of the deep, slow breathing Saoirse had taught her. When she was a little calmer, she pressed her hand over the place where her mother’s pendant lay beneath her clothing. Its presence made her feel a little less alone. I’ll find him, she told herself again. Everything’s going to be okay.

  She thought of the last time she’d hidden inside this closet and how different things were now. She wasn’t here to steal, for one thing, and for another, her view of her own magic had changed. She used to limit herself as much as possible, afraid of the intense headaches that would inevitably come with too much magic use. It seemed silly now that she’d disabled the penthouse security system last time so she could walk around in human form without setting off alarms. It was silly that she’d run and hidden in this bedroom when Lilah returned home earlier than expected. Silly that she’d been afraid to use even a little more magic in case it cost her later when she had to sneak out. The entire operation would have been far less stressful if she’d been air the entire time.

  An indistinct beep reached Ridley’s ears. The front door. Someone was home. She rose silently to her feet, listening intently, wondering if she was too far away to hear the soothing tones of the smart home system’s voice as it greeted—

  “Good evening, Delilah.”

  Adrenaline pushed Ridley’s heart rate higher. The computerized voice was muffled, but she’d definitely heard it. Next came the click, click of hard shoes against the tiled floor, growing louder, then disappearing as Lilah stepped onto the carpeted floor of her bedroom. The sight of her in her perfectly pressed Wallace Academy school uniform almost punched the air from Ridley’s chest. Wallace Academy, Lumina City’s most prestigious private school, was where Ridley herself had been a student until she’d fled the city after accidentally revealing her magic. She ached inside at the thought of everything she’d lost. The future she would never have. Unless …

  Unless we change the world.

  Lilah crossed the room, dumped her designer satchel on the floor, and perched on the edge of her bed as she scrolled through something on her commscreen.

  Archer first, Ridley told herself. Then we can change the world together.

  She slid the closet door open and stepped out. A quiet gasp escaped Lilah as her gaze shot up. Her body tensed briefly, but other than that, she concealed her surprise well. “Ridley,” she said. Without breaking eye contact, she lowered her commscreen to the bed
. “What excellent timing you have.”

  Ridley wasn’t sure what Lilah meant by that, but since she hadn’t had to wait long for her, and Mr. and Mrs. Davenport weren’t home, Ridley considered it good timing too. “I need help,” she said. “Archer needs help.” Now wasn’t the time to explain all the details of elementals and the Shadow Society. That could come later. First, she needed to secure Lilah’s assistance. “He’s been taken. You have to help me find him. Please.”

  Confusion puckered Lilah’s features. Then her gaze turned pitying. “Oh, Ridley,” she said, her tone bordering on patronizing. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

  “You—what?”

  “I warned you not to throw yourself at my brother’s feet like every other pathetic girl who’s ever pined after him.”

  “Um … I don’t you think you did, actually. You told me I was like every other girl who’s ever done that.”

  “Right. Sorry. It was already too late for you. Now you’re the has-been while he moves on to the next girl.”

  “Lilah, that is not what’s happening right now! He’s gone, and we need to find him.”

  “Sure,” Lilah said, slow and sarcastic as she nodded.

  “Lilah! This is not a joke. I know we stopped being friends a long time ago. I know I messed up your fancy celebrity party when I used magic—”

  “Used magic? You didn’t just use magic, Ridley.”

  Ridley’s words caught in her throat before she could get the rest of them out. What had Lilah seen that night? What had she been told? Did she know the magic Ridley had used came from within her own body? Had she seen Ridley vanish, taking Callie with her? Or did she think Ridley was just one more criminal who’d removed her AI2 and pulled magic from the environment?

  Ridley’s pulse throbbed. Her fingers twitched. But she managed to hide the tremor in her voice when she said, “What I did that night doesn’t matter right now.”

  “Of course it does. It’s the only thing that matters now. Because I—” Lilah’s voice faltered. She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was smaller, quieter. “I thought I knew you, Ridley.”

  Ridley stared at the girl who’d once been her best friend. Lilah’s fierce, dark gaze swam with something else now. Hurt? Betrayal? Gently, Ridley said, “I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

  “Exactly.” Lilah shook her head, inhaling deeply through her nose. “I almost wish I didn’t have to do this.” Then she reached swiftly past the lamp on her nightstand and slammed her palm over a small white button on the wall. Ridley tensed, expecting an alarm to blare out. But in the silence that followed, all she heard was Lilah’s voice: “They’re going to catch you.”

  7

  Feeling oddly betrayed, Ridley turned and raced from Lilah’s room. Clearly she had never fully grasped just how much Lilah disliked her. Perhaps her hostility had intensified after she’d seen Ridley’s use of magic at one of her parties. The Davenports had always been big supporters of the anti-magic laws. Ridley told herself it wasn’t personal that Lilah hoped the cops would catch her. Still, that didn’t stop it from feeling as personal as if Lilah had physically attacked Ridley herself.

  She dove around the corner into the open living space and became air before her human form could hit the floor. The siren wail she’d expected was still absent, but Lilah had clearly alerted someone. Aura Tower security, most likely. That button was probably her hotline to the building’s security control room. Emergency in the penthouse! she imagined someone yelling. Fair Delilah is in trouble! All knights to her rescue!

  She would have rolled her nonexistent eyes if not for the sickening lurch somewhere in the region of her nonexistent stomach. Arxium, she thought just as she fell from the air and stumbled into a glass table displaying a small ballerina sculpture and a vase of fresh flowers. The vase wobbled, fell, and shattered. “Dammit,” Ridley hissed, gripping the arm of a couch as her head spun. Mayor Madson must have gifted his good friend Alastair Davenport some of his special ‘air freshener’ and now Ridley was suffering the consequences because her gas mask was sitting useless in her backpack instead of on her face.

  She held her breath as the frightening sensation of her throat beginning to close threatened to overwhelm her. Her thoughts spun wildly. With the precious moments she had left before Aura Tower security arrived, should she get the gas mask out of her bag and put it on, or should she continue holding her breath and see if she could perform a conjuration without passing out?

  Conjuration, she decided, lifting her hands. The quicker she got out of here the better. She clawed hastily at the air, pulling magic from it instead of using her own. As Malachi had discovered in the wastelands after they’d woken on the wrong side of the wall, arxium didn’t affect their ability to pull magic from the environment, probably because that magic didn’t come from within them. Normal conjurations were still possible.

  Still holding her breath, Ridley let go of the couch and slid to the floor beside the broken glass and damp flowers. She began the conjuration. Dizziness made her hands swim oddly in front of her, but she managed to keep her fingers moving correctly. It was a precise and detailed dance through the magic that hung in front of her, a series of movements that required a level of concentration she could barely sustain. But then it was done, and she hadn’t passed out, and she was hurriedly pushing the magic at the floor as her lungs screamed louder and louder for air.

  A crack appeared in the floor. The tiles folded swiftly down and back in on themselves—as did every other layer of material between this apartment and the one below it—creating a roughly square-shaped hole. With lungs threatening to explode, Ridley skidded forward on her butt and dropped into it.

  She hit the floor feet first, then staggered sideways and landed clumsily, painfully, on her right side, narrowly missing the corner of a dining room table. She sucked in a great gasp of fresh air. Well, not fresh, but arxium-free, which felt like the same thing right now. She looked up, her chest heaving. The ceiling unfolded itself and melded back into place, and the last thing Ridley saw of the Aura Tower penthouse was Lilah’s shocked face peering down at her.

  “Crap,” Ridley whispered. She had no time to breathe through her remaining nausea. No time to steady her spinning head. No time to decide on her next move. Lilah was probably racing to tell security which way she’d gone right at this moment. At the very least, though, Ridley had to stop and get the gas mask on. It was useless sitting in her backpack.

  Sick and sweaty and dizzy, she fought with the zip until she managed to get it open and retrieve the mask. With shaking fingers, she pulled it on, fumbling with the straps until she managed to click them together at the back of her head. She took a breath, hoping she’d put the mask on correctly. She pulled the backpack onto her shoulders once more and began the conjuration again.

  By the time she’d dropped down another two floors—terrifying two children in a playroom on one of them—she was feeling steady enough to use her own magic. She let it rise from her skin and managed to become air again. The weight of her backpack and the discomfort of the mask vanished instantly. She swooped away, beneath a door, past an elevator—which had just opened to allow two people out and another three in—through a gap to the stairs no one in their right mind ever used, and then plunging down the center of the stairwell all the way to the ground floor.

  She aimed for the grand entrance and flew straight toward it. She wouldn’t have noticed the people she sped past if some quiet yet insistent voice-that-wasn’t-a-voice hadn’t seemed to say, Look now. Look now, look NOW! She whirled back around, the swirling air in her wake lifting the edge of a man’s coat as he strode past her with a slight limp. It was Mayor Madson.

  Aside from the limp, Jude Madson appeared to have recovered from the injuries he’d sustained a few weeks before when Malachi hurled multiple fireballs at him. Without a second’s hesitation, Ridley followed him. Lilah wasn’t going to help, so she’d have to get a whole lot closer to the m
ayor to discover anything useful. Even if he didn’t personally know Archer’s whereabouts, there was a good chance that he would, at some point, meet up with or contact someone who did. If Ridley followed him for a few hours, she might discover enough to find Archer. Failing that, she could to turn to riskier methods.

  She hovered nearby as the mayor signed in at the security desk—a process Ridley generally skipped, seeing as how she usually entered this building unseen—and then waited as the man behind the desk placed a call. He nodded politely at the mayor, whose grumpy expression didn’t change a fraction as he strode past the desk and through the retractable glass turnstile. Ridley flew over it.

  She followed the mayor into an elevator, her nerves a little on edge once the doors closed and she was inside the small space alone with him. She missed which button he pressed, so she was surprised when the elevator began to move down instead of up. After several painfully slow moments of listening to the mayor’s heavy breathing, the elevator doors slid open again.

  The mayor walked as briskly as his limp would allow, and Ridley followed at a distance of several paces. This was a part of Aura Tower she had never known existed: A maze of passages and office doors and something that might have been the security control room she’d imagined earlier.

  She was trying to imagine who Mayor Madson could possibly be meeting down here when he stopped in front of a closed door with a keypad set into the wall beside it. He poked the numbers aggressively with one pudgy finger. Ridley heard a quiet click, then the mayor turned the handle and pushed the door open. He limped forward, stopped at the head of a large rectangular table, and gripped the back of the chair. The rooms’ occupants—some standing, some sitting—grew quiet. “Where is he?” the mayor growled.