They took the stairs back down one floor and stopped in front of a door with a silver panel secured to the wall beside it. Christa slapped Doc’s access card over the panel, and with a beep, the door opened. Ridley peered inside at the rows of fridges, chest freezers, and more shelves. “You stay here,” Christa said, “just inside the doorway. Pull some magic so you’re ready in case someone shows up. I’ll find the stone.”
Ridley leaned her shaky body against the doorframe as her fingers scraped at the air, pulling magic from it. She wished she’d swallowed a little more of that sugary drink. She could do with the energy boost. Once she had her mother’s stone, though, she could draw power from it and—
“It’s not here,” Christa said, startling her.
Ridley pushed away from the doorframe. “Are—are you sure? It’s in—”
“This box?” Christa held the familiar box up. “I know. It’s empty.”
Ridley cursed. “Maybe it’s … um … what lab did you say Doc was in? The basement?”
“Ridley.” Christa dropped the box and shook Ridley’s shoulders. “You can’t currently use your own magic to disappear, and there are people with weapons on their way up here right now. Are you willing to die to get hold of this magical stone? Because that’s what’s going to happen. They will catch you, and after Doc’s finished all his experiments and fun, he will kill you. And since I’ll be dead too, I won’t be able to get rid of any Shadow Society assholes. All of this will be a big waste.”
Ridley shoved Christa’s arms away. “If you don’t stop shaking me I’m going to throw up on you. And how about—”
A loud spraying sound came from somewhere above her head. Ridley’s gaze shot up. Equally spaced along the length of the corridor ceiling were what looked like water sprinkler heads, the type generally attached to a fire alarm system. Except there was no fire, and it wasn’t water that accompanied the spraying sound.
Ridley sucked in a breath and held it as Christa groaned. “That’s what I forgot to grab from the storeroom after Doc found us. A gas mask for you.” She gripped Ridley’s arm and pulled her sideways and around a corner. “We don’t have time for a traditional exit. This place will be flooded with arxium gas within minutes.”
They turned into yet another passageway, and straight ahead was the answer to one of the questions Doc had refused to entertain. Through a window, Ridley could see rows and rows of fruit tress, and beyond that, buildings and skyscrapers. They were at the very edge of the city.
“Break it,” Christa said as they ran toward the window, which Ridley could already see wasn’t the type that was meant to be opened. With her lungs beginning to beg for oxygen, she hastily grabbed magic from the air. A conjuration wasn’t necessary. The force of raw magic would do the trick, just as it had knocked out Doc. She threw it forward—and it shattered the entire window pane.
They stopped right in front of it, and Ridley stuck her head out to take a deep lungful of fresh air. She looked down—and gulped another breath of surprise. “This facility is inside the wall? Like, the actual city wall?”
“Yes. Okay, now I have a two conjurations in mind that can get us down to the ground without broken necks. First, you’ll need to create—”
She swung her head back around at the sound of footsteps. Ridley did the same, coughing as she breathed in some of the arxium filling up the interior space. “No time,” she wheezed.
A man in a lab coat rounded the corner and shouted, “I found them!” just as Ridley forced her magic outward. It was almost impossible, and the few bites of sandwich sitting in her stomach definitely wanted to make a reappearance, but she managed to become air and wrap herself around Christa. She almost lost hold of the form—she even saw herself flicker in and out of view—but they were up and over the jagged edge of the broken window—then falling and visible with Christa letting out a yelp—then soaring on the breeze again—then dropping, dropping—
Ridley landed with an oomph that knocked all the air from her chest and sent pain radiating along one side of her body. Beside her, Christa groaned and coughed. “Need to move,” Ridley gasped. They were far too close to the wall and the broken window and whoever might be leaning out of it, possibly aiming a weapon at them. She didn’t bother rolling over to take a look, struggling instead to use her magic again. Come on, I’m supposed to be super powerful! I’m a freaking heir, for goodness’ sake!
Then she was invisible again, wrapping around Christa and speeding away, silently screaming at herself to go, go go, just a little further, just a little further, until she absolutely could not anymore.
She found herself on the ground surrounded by trees, and this time, she did throw up. Christa crawled a few feet away and leaned against a tree trunk as Ridley’s stomach emptied itself. When there was nothing left, she wiped the lab coat sleeve across her mouth, then shuffled on hands and knees to the tree across from the one Christa sat beneath.
“Thanks,” Christa said. “I was a little afraid we might break our necks after all, but you did well, given the circumstances.”
Ridley nodded slowly. “Wasn’t much other option. Figured we were dead if we stayed there. My dad taught me some conjurations that could have shielded us from their attack, but it would have taken too long to pull magic and then do them. It was better to just get out.”
“I agree.”
Ridley filled her lungs with air, then exhaled slowly. She looked through the trees back the way they’d come. “How exactly was that special containment chamber supposed to keep me from getting out? Doc had to know that once I could use my own magic—and if I had the stone as well—I would eventually burn or break my way out.”
Christa sighed. “The containment chamber is underground, beneath the city wall. It’s reinforced with multiple layers of arxium and concrete. Doc figured you’d attempt to burn your way out, but he hoped that before you managed to get through all the layers, you’d either run out of power, or his arxium gas would incapacitate you.”
Ridley shut her eyes for a moment, exhaustion washing over her at the mere thought of battling her way out of something like that. She was relieved she hadn’t been forced to try. She looked up at the leafy branches that formed a canopy overhead. Whatever fruit grew on these trees had already been picked this season and had probably found its way by now into Lumina City’s wealthiest homes and most expensive restaurants. “Do you think they’ll search the area for us?” she asked.
“As far as they know, you’re able to use your magic and we could be anywhere by now, so they probably won’t bother. They wouldn’t know where to start.” Christa straightened and looked around. “I suppose Davenport might insist they search nearby, just in case you weren’t able to get far, so we should keep an eye out. But I think we’re probably okay.”
Ridley tilted her head back against the tree. “It shouldn’t be too long before my system is arxium-free. Then I can get us away from here. I can take you to … I don’t know, wherever it is you’re living these days. Not the bunker, I assume.”
“Not the bunker,” Christa answered shortly. She didn’t add ‘Thanks to you,’ which was probably what she was thinking.
“It’s still a secret, right?” Ridley asked, only thinking now of the implications of the deal Christa had struck with Alastair Davenport. If Christa was no longer there to notify him of any elementals who crossed her path, he had no reason to keep the bunker’s existence hidden.
“I haven’t seen anything about it in the news,” Christa said, “so I assume it’s still a secret. I’m willing to bet Davenport has made himself known to whoever’s in charge now, and that unlucky person is stuck with the same bargain I was stuck with.” She looked at Ridley. “We should stick together. Help me get rid of them. I know some of the members now, and we can—”
Ridley cut Christa off with a weak laugh. “Are you serious? You handed me over to them. Twice. And now you want me to trust you and work with you?”
Christa heaved a sigh. “You
know I had no choice. I never wanted to give you to them.”
“I suppose you did do me the courtesy of dressing my unconscious body in a jacket,” Ridley added with sarcasm. “All should be forgiven, right?”
“Yes, well,” Christa said stiffly. “You seemed a little … indecent lying in that hotel corridor in nothing but your pajamas. I know it doesn’t make up for anything, but I figured I’d at lease cover you in a jacket.”
“Thanks. Much appreciated.”
“Look, Ridley, we’re on the same side. We want the same thing: to get rid of the Shadow Society. We can go our separate ways, which means we probably have less chance of succeeding, or we can work together. I’m not an elemental, so I can’t do all the things you can do, but I’ve discovered things that can help.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for a start, Alastair Davenport never goes anywhere unprotected. And I don’t mean bodyguards—although he does often have several of those hanging around. I mean clothing with arxium cufflinks and buttons, and tiny little devices sewn into collars that he can press to release small amounts of arxium gas.”
It took Ridley a moment to figure out that Christa wasn’t joking. “Are you serious? He’s that paranoid?”
“Yes. So if you’re planning to swoop down and wrap an element around him, like a solid chunk of earth to suffocate him, that won’t work.”
Ridley frowned. “That hadn’t even crossed my mind. Perhaps because my mind doesn’t generally lean toward killing people.” Her frown deepened. “But now that you mention it, I wonder why another elemental hasn’t tried that already.”
“Perhaps they have. Sadly, they would have failed. Or perhaps because, if elementals are even aware of the Shadow Society, they don’t know who’s in it. You didn’t know any of the members until recently, did you? I assume not, since you appeared to trust Archer Davenport.”
Ridley examined Christa, her frown still in place. “So Archer came to you, proclaiming to be on our side, and all the while you knew his father headed up the Shadow Society. You knew Archer was also one of them.”
“Well, Archer always seemed genuine, from what I could tell, so I never questioned him about the Shadow Society. It was possible he didn’t know what his father was involved in. Unlikely, but possible. And I didn’t want him asking how I knew about it, so … saying nothing seemed easier.”
“Of course. Let everyone keep their own secrets.” Ridley sighed, knowing she was including herself in her next statement. “That’s the way we do things.”
“That’s the way we’ve done things,” Christa said, “but we both know where we stand now, so why not stick together?”
Ridley shook her head. “I’m grateful for your help. I honestly am. But I have friends in this city I trust far more than you. That’s where I’m going when I’m ready to leave here.”
23
Ridley felt truly awful by the time she arrived at the Lins’ place. It was directly across the road from Kayne’s Antiques, so she made sure not to reveal herself anywhere outside the building, just in case someone was monitoring her old home for any sign of her. After drifting past the Chinese takeout shop below the Lins’ apartment—where Mr. Lin was behind the counter, taking an order—she floated up to one of the windows on the floor above and slipped inside.
Remembering what she’d told Saoirse about randomly showing up in people’s homes, she moved through the apartment to the front door and released her magic. She slumped against the door and raised one fist to knock against it. Sure, it wasn’t as polite as waiting on the outside of the door and knocking, but the Lins were like family. They would understand.
Her eyes slid shut as she waited. On the way here, she’d pushed her questioning thoughts out to the magic around her, but so far she’d found no one. She tried to keep her panic at bay. They couldn’t all be dead, could they? No. Dad was somewhere in the city, and the city was full of arxium structures, so magic would have a hard time getting around everything to find him. That had to be the reason.
And Saorise, Nathan and all the others … perhaps they were back at their mountain home by now, packing up and moving somewhere else. Maybe they were planning a second attempt at their revolution. Or maybe they’d given up. But they couldn’t all be … dead.
“Oh, Ridley!” Ridley’s eyes sprang open as Mrs. Lin rushed out of the kitchen. She wrapped her skinny arms around Ridley. “Your father will be so relieved.”
Ridley’s heart leaped wildly. “Is he here?”
“He … unfortunately not.” Mrs. Lin stepped back. “He was, but he left.”
“When?” Ridley swayed and put a hand out against the door to steady herself. “Why did he leave?”
“You look like you need to sit,” Mrs. Lin said, taking Ridley’s arm and guiding her into the kitchen and onto one of the chairs that sat around the small table. “Your father arrived late on Sunday afternoon, sometime after the shudders ended.” She took a glass from the drying rack and filled it with cold water from the fridge. “By Monday morning—yesterday—he was gone. We assume he’s looking for you.”
Ridley accepted the glass of water. She took a sip, which turned into a gulp, and then another several gulps until the glass was almost empty. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. “But,” she said, taking a deep breath as she lowered the glass, “where would he go? How would he know where to begin looking for me?”
“He thinks the Shadow Society has you.” Mrs. Lin took the glass and refilled it. “It’s possible he’s gone to confront Alastair Davenport, now that we’re aware he’s the director.”
“He wouldn’t be that stupid. He can’t possibly think that would end well.”
Mrs. Lin shook her head. “We don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s desperate, Ridley. He said … well, that the two of you didn’t part on good terms the last time he saw you. He can’t bear to think that those moments may be the last he ever shares with you.”
Ridley placed the glass on the table and buried her face in her hands. “This is my fault. I was so upset. But … I couldn’t not be upset. And now … ugh, what a mess.”
“He told us about everything. The big plan to change our world. How something must have gone wrong, because everything suddenly stopped. But he couldn’t contact anyone, so he couldn’t find out what happened.”
“So he has a commscreen with him? Do you have the number?”
“Yes, but I’ve tried contacting him and there’s no response.”
“Maybe … maybe the battery died?” Ridley suggested, trying to keep her hopes up.
Mrs. Lin looked doubtful, but she said, “That could be it. Your father is a little on the scatterbrained side. He probably wouldn’t notice if the device turned itself off unless he needed to use it himself.”
“Yes, exactly.” Ridley appreciated Mrs. Lin playing along, even though she was fairly certain this was not the reason Dad wasn’t replying.
“Can I get you anything else? Some food? I have a little more time before I need to join Bo downstairs. And I should probably tell you that—”
“Ridley?” The familiar voice sent Ridley’s blood rushing through her veins. Without thinking about it, she was suddenly standing, looking toward the kitchen doorway.
“I should probably tell you that Shen returned,” Mrs. Lin finished quietly.
Ridley was so surprised that all she could do was stare him. It was Shen who moved first, striding toward her on long legs and wrapping her in a tight hug. Still, Ridley couldn’t bring herself to unfreeze. Shen had lied. He’d murdered. He’d chased after her with a gun through the Wallace Academy library. Well, not her specifically, but that’s what it had felt like. And yet … he was so achingly familiar that she wanted to cry. He had been her friend for so long that this moment—him hugging her in his kitchen—was like coming home and finding that nothing had changed.
Except that things had changed. Everything had changed.
“I’m so sorry,” Shen said, stepping back befor
e Ridley managed to return the hug. “About everything. And I’m so happy you’re safe. I wanted to tell you about all of this so many times. So many times, Rid. You’re my oldest friend, and it was so, so hard having to keep it all from you.”
She nodded, unable to meet his eyes now. Unable to find the right words to say. “I … I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I … it’s just … so much has happened. So much is different now.”
“I know.” He let out a long sigh. “I know I couldn’t explain things, but I wish you’d listened to me about Archer Davenport. You never should have trusted him.”
Ridley’s eyes shot up, ice freezing her veins in an instant. “Yeah? Well you never should have murdered an elemental.”
The look on his face told her she may as well have slapped him. She wasn’t even sure where the words had come from. They’d risen to her tongue without thought. Probably from that deep well of hurt buried within her. She shook her head, feeling sick and guilty. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“No, it’s … I deserved that. I …” Shen turned away, pushing a hand through his straight, sticking-up hair. “I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t know he was an elemental. I mean, he was talking to Archer Davenport. And why was he visible? I was on that roof the whole time Archer and his sister were in your store, and that man was totally visible walking down the street, into the alley, peering through the window by your back door. If he was an elemental sneaking around, he should have been using his magic to make himself invisible. Why didn’t he do that?”
Ridley frowned. She hadn’t considered that before. Perhaps the man had traveled far using his magic and was tired, the way she used to be after too much magic use, before she’d learned to properly let go. It didn’t matter. The fact that he was elemental didn’t matter. It would have been just as much of a tragedy if Shen had killed a non-elemental man.
“I guess it makes no difference,” Shen muttered, probably coming to the same conclusion as Ridley. “I’ve asked myself these questions over and over, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m still left with all this guilt. I tried to outrun it, but it turns out that’s not possible. I just have to live with it instead.”
Elemental Heir (Ridley Kayne Chronicles Book 3) Page 18