Lilah’s dead, she reminded herself with a pang.
So maybe Alastair had been constantly making new elementals, losing them every few days as they died and then making more—
No. Ridley remembered him barking an order into his commscreen just before Saoirse showed up and shot him. Something about standby subjects … and she was pretty sure he’d used the word ‘activate.’
Doesn’t matter, she told herself. There was definitely a manmade elemental somewhere close by, and she had to get past him or her and continue burning. She whirled up and then around, hoping to avoid whoever was in her path. But there was another—she changed direction to avoid the presence—and then another.
Furious, Ridley summoned a cyclone wind and sped away from the city, tossing her thoughts out to the magic around her. How many? Where are they? How do I get past them? I thought I was supposed to be incredibly powerful?
The answers came in flashes of knowledge, one tumbling over the next over the next as they filled her mind. There are others, more, everywhere, more, you’re stronger, focus, the stone, alone now but not alone.
Alone now but not alone. It was the sense of comfort Ridley had received from magic before, but it was also telling her … she was alone? What about the others? she asked. She pictured Nathan and Malachi, reaching out for them with her thoughts. They should be nearby, in the ground, forcing cracks through the earth. Her mind filled with the answer, images of their solid earth forms ramming up against other solid earth forms, pushing their way up to the surface, transforming to air, elemental and fake elemental tangling together like two interlocking vortexes.
You have to do it, magic whispered to her, and she understood that it meant she had to do everything. She had to be the earth and cause the quakes and break the wall and burn the panels. Fear filled her at the idea of earth, but at the same time, she understood that she could do everything. That’s what it felt like she was being told. She just needed that darn stone. She needed an extra boost, extra focus, extra strength.
Where is my mother’s stone? she asked, wondering if it might possibly be that easy and if she should have asked days ago. She sensed magic drawing her in a certain direction. Like a game of hot or cold, she followed as best she could, dodging the manmade elementals when she sensed them nearby. At times, the trail seemed to disappear. Or perhaps magic didn’t actually know where the stone was and it was searching, listening, feeling just as intently as Ridley was searching, listening and feeling.
She soared over the city, this way and that, responding to the tug when she felt it, until finally, she figured out where magic was leading her: Aura Tower. The penthouse. Which made sense. Alastair Davenport must have hidden the stone somewhere in his home. Ridley just had to find it.
She swooped down until she found a floor that was low enough to have windows that actually opened. Up at the penthouse, where storm clouds swirled dangerously close and deadly winds sometimes rocketed past, not a single gap could be found anywhere. Ridley made her way swiftly up through the skyscraper until she conjured a hole in the penthouse floor and drifted up through it as air.
Once again, she was in the Davenports’ vast, flawless, magazine-worthy home. Exotic artwork, vases of fresh flowers, glass boxes on marble pedestals displaying priceless artifacts. It was becoming quite familiar to Ridley these days. She moved forward, then stopped, her heart squeezing at the sight of a familiar antique music box. It was made of wood with a flower-shaped mother-of-pearl inlay decorating the lid. She had sold this to Archer and Lilah the evening they’d come looking for a last-minute birthday gift for their mother. It was so soon after Archer had returned to the city that Ridley didn’t even know yet that he was back. The other thing she didn’t know at the time was that he’d come to Kayne’s Antiques that evening specifically to see her.
She took a moment to slow her racing, invisible heart, then continued past the music box. She floated through the open-plan living space, turning a corner to where the grand piano sat in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain pattered quietly against the glass. Her gaze skimmed across statues and painted bowls and furniture she doubted anyone ever sat on, hoping she might spot a large stone pendant on a chain. She couldn’t help feeling a little as if she’d come full circle. The threads of her life had begun to unravel the night she crept in here to steal a gold figurine, and now here she was again, hunting down another ancient artifact inside the Davenports’ home.
“Ridley.”
Ridley spun around at the sound of her name, her heart almost jumping clear of her chest. She vanished a split second later—more of an instinct than anything else—then reappeared, recognizing Lilah’s voice at the same moment her eyes fell on the dark haired girl standing by the piano.
Lilah. Who wasn’t dead.
The last time the two of them had been inside this home, Lilah had filled the place with arxium gas and told Ridley she would be caught. This time, when Lilah’s hand moved, it was to touch the chain that hung around her neck. “You’re looking for this, aren’t you.” She lifted the chain and pulled a large pendant free from beneath her sweater. It was Ridley’s family heirloom stone.
29
“You’re alive,” Ridley breathed. Immense relief seeped through her body, leaving her feeling weak and exhausted and oddly happy, given how cruel Lilah had been to her at times over the past ten years. Ridley found herself almost smiling—and then almost laughing. Hadn’t she thought to herself that it should be impossible for anything to wipe out a force like Delilah Davenport? Turned out she was right.
Lilah took a deep breath and let the pendant rest against her chest. “I was out there,” she said, gesturing vaguely to one of the windows, “just flying aimlessly around, trying to figure out … some things. And I sensed you. I couldn’t tell if you were searching for me, or if you just happened to be nearby. I returned to the top of Aura Tower, and you came inside. I came in through the air cooling ducts from the roof. I sensed you floating around here, and I realized you must be looking for this.”
“Yes. Are you the one who took it? From that store room of samples at the research place. I looked for it when I escaped, but it wasn’t there.”
Lilah nodded. “You told me it would heal me. You were right.”
“I—I did? I was?”
“You may not remember. You were drugged. I struggled to wake you. I think I slapped you a few times. Sorry about that,” she added, sounding genuinely remorseful. “You mumbled something about a stone with healing properties, and even though no one ever told me about this heirloom thing, I’d overheard enough conversations and hacked enough of Doc’s notes to know what you were talking about. Didn’t take me too long to find it.”
“And it actually worked,” Ridley said in amazement. “It healed you.”
“Yes. Well … sort of. Not permanently.”
“What do you mean?”
Lilah’s dark eyes, so similar to Archer’s, traveled Ridley’s face. There was something different about her. This was not the same Lilah who’d hoped Ridley would be caught. This was not the person who’d pointed a shotgun at her own brother and accused him of betraying their family. “If I take it off,” Lilah said carefully, “the symptoms come back. When I put it back on, the symptoms go away. So if I want to keep living, I’m guessing I have to keep wearing it. But …” She paused and bit her lip. “You need it.” She looked toward the window as a faint shudder reverberated through the building. “You’re trying to do what Archer was talking about on his live video. Getting rid of the arxium and returning our world to the way it used to be. And this stone will help you.”
“Yes,” Ridley said simply, a crack slowly splitting her heart. She did need it, but she didn’t want Lilah to die. She knew what she had to do—take the stone by force, if Lilah wouldn’t give it to her—but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it.
“I know my father caused the Cataclysm,” Lilah said, changing the subject out of the blue. “He didn’t tell me—obviou
sly—but thanks to a conversation you recently had with him, and an archive of surveillance footage, I now know what he did. I know that he’s lied to me for years and that he’s the reason magic retaliated and billions of people died.” She walked closer, pulling the chain up and over her head. Her voice shook when she said, “It’s the most horrifying of all the secrets I’ve ever discovered, and it makes me sick—so, so sick—to think that I firmly believed he was right about magic and elementals all these years.” She shook her head and sucked in a deep breath. “My life always felt so trivial, Rid. I wanted so badly to be part of everything my father was doing. To be part of something bigger. I just didn’t realize until now that we were on the wrong side of that something. Archer did, and I wish he’d told me sooner. I wish he’d made me listen to him.” She held the pendant out toward Ridley. “I hope you can change the world.”
Slowly, some part of her wondering if this was a horrible prank, Ridley reached for the necklace. Lilah let her take it. She exhaled slowly and lowered her hand. Ridley’s gaze traveled down as a yellow-gold glow began to pulse through Lilah’s veins, visible just beneath the surface of her skin. Looking up again, she saw the same glow fading in and out of the veins that coursed across Lilah’s face. The same glow in her eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Lilah said, rolling those oddly golden eyes and sounding more like herself. “Like you’re terrified I’m about to drop dead on the spot. I’m not going die immediately. I think it’ll take a bit of time.”
Hope surged in Ridley’s chest. “How long?”
“I don’t know. Just hurry. If you can. I know I’m a grade A bitch who doesn’t actually deserve to survive any of this, but I don’t particularly want to die.”
Ridley managed a small smile. “That’s funny. I kind of feel the same way about you.” She looped the chain over her head. “I’ll get back here as quickly as I can.”
“No. Meet me on top of the Boards24 Building. The building with the rooftop garden. There’s something else I need to do ASAP. In case I don’t …” In case she didn’t make it.
“You’ll be fine,” Ridley insisted. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Thanks.” Lilah took a few steps back, the golden glow intensifying as wisps of yellow magic rose away from her skin. “In case I don’t get to tell you later, this magic thing is actually really cool.”
Ridley grinned. “I know.”
“And Rid? I’m really sorry. About everything.” Then Lilah shut her eyes and disappeared.
Ridley’s next breath left her in a rush of air. She could barely believe any of that had just happened. She looked down at the pendant and pressed one hand over it. “Time to end this,” she whispered.
And that was when she heard a scuffle of footsteps and a grunt. She shifted to air immediately. Spinning away from the piano, she saw Archer dragging his father toward a couch. Alastair’s jacket was off, rolled into a bundle and pressed against the gunshot wound below his shoulder. “Stop fighting me,” Archer groaned. “I’m trying to help you.”
Ridley soared past them. She must have missed the sound of the front door opening while Lilah was talking. The door was still open, in fact. Archer was probably planning to leave soon.
“Get off!” Alastair shouted. “I don’t need your help.” Ridley twisted around near the front door, looking back as Alastair shoved Archer so hard he stumbled into a small table, knocked it over, and sent a giant wooden egg rolling toward the window. It came to rest against the giant glass surface. “Doctor Manly is on his way over. He’ll be far more help than you. Now get out of here. Your mother never wants to see you again and neither do I.”
“Great,” Archer said flatly. “The feeling is mutual. In fact, I should have let you die earlier. You’d probably prefer that over knowing I used magic to keep your torture facility from collapsing on you.”
Alastair, who’d been leaning on the edge of the couch, launched forward and struck Archer across the face. Archer stumbled backward another few feet, then tripped over the fallen table and landed near the wooden egg. Ridley rushed back across the room. “What disgusts me just as much is that you used magic to get us back here,” Alastair said. “What the hell was that? Some primitive transport conjuration?”
As Ridley hovered anxiously nearby, torn between grabbing Archer and leaving versus letting him have it out with his father, Archer climbed to his feet. He scraped at the air, pulling handfuls of magic from it within seconds. “This is not disgusting, Dad!” he yelled, pulling more and more magic. “Look at it. Look at it!” He stepped aside, letting the glowing mass hang between them. “This has never been disgusting!”
Alastair grabbed his jacket from where it had fallen onto the couch. He swung it at the crackling, sparking magic.
There’s arxium in the jacket, Ridley thought the instant before the jacket swiped the magic. She hurled her air form at Archer, becoming a waterfall of water at the same moment the magic exploded outward in a blazing flash, reacting to whatever arxium had touched it.
Ridley’s ears rang, which made her realize she had ears, which made her realize she was in human form again. Lying on a hard floor. Beside a dripping wet Archer who was struggling to sit up. The howl of a gale joined the ringing in her ears. Icy air tore across her wet skin. Not wet from the water form she’d been in moments before. Wet from rain. Rain pelting her skin. Rain gusting in through the enormous hole that had been blasted through the penthouse windows.
“What have you done?” Alastair bellowed. He was across the room on the other side of multiple upturned items of furniture. Not to mention multiple shattered glass boxes, fallen statues, broken vases, and probably a great many priceless artifacts. Perhaps because he’d been the one wielding the arxium jacket—or perhaps because he had other forms of protective clothing—he appeared to have survived the magical blast. “You.” His eyes locked onto Ridley.
Archer was up already. In one swift motion, he tugged Ridley to her feet. Without another thought, she launched toward the gaping hole, taking Archer with her. Together, they fell.
Even with the knowledge that she could shift to air—which she did about a second later—it was terrifying. She thought she heard the wind scream in her ears before she shifted form, but it was probably her own voice.
Ridley sped toward the Boards24 Building and deposited Archer in the middle of the rooftop garden with zero explanation. She’d wasted enough time already. Were Nathan and Malachi still trying to dodge fake elementals? Had they given up? Had they been hurt or … worse?
As she passed the wall and soared over the wastelands, she reached out for Nathan. She found him, further out, and her instinctive question—Is he okay?—was answered immediately: Yes. She could tell Malachi was with him, and along with the vague sense of their location, she felt a hint of … playfulness? No, that wasn’t quite right. But the idea trying to take form in her mind was definitely of some sort of game. She strained harder to understand, and the answer finally hit her in a single thought.
Distraction.
They were drawing the man-made elementals further out, giving Ridley a chance to get close to the wall. They were trusting that she could do it all without them as long as they kept the threat at bay.
Again, like earlier, she felt magic telling her, You have to do it. Meaning: You have to do everything.
I know, she answered. But the idea of diving into solid earth still scared her. Then her fear seemed to drift away as hope swelled inside her and around her. It wasn’t her own. Well, some of it was, but mostly it was the magic out here, taking her tiny kernel of hope and amplifying it and adding its own. She felt encouraged and … lifted. Almost literally. Buoyed up by the currents in the air. And then …
She was catapulted down toward the earth. Fear and determination and excitement collided in every particle of her being as the ground rushed toward her. I can do this. A conversation that seemed like a lifetime ago came to mind. Fall into it, Grandpa had said. So she di
d. She fell into the earth.
It was utterly dark. Terrifying and exhilarating. She hurtled forward the same way she would as air or water or fire, but somehow as a continually moving solid being. She didn’t know how and she didn’t try to direct it. She fragmented and all she knew was crack, shudder, smash, demolish. Except … that wasn’t all she knew. She was scattered, but somehow … focused. Her magic stretched through the ground, reaching further and further, but she was precisely aware of every inch of it.
Break the city wall, she thought. Break. The. Entire. Wall.
Power erupted through the earth and past what remained of the broken, burned arxium machines, and though Ridley couldn’t see it, she knew where it went. It rushed through the ground, circled the city, and struck the entire wall at once. Cracks fractured their way through the structure. Fall outward, she thought as she burst from the ground and became air. Like a shock wave radiating out from a central point, hurricane-speed wind rushed away from the city in all directions, and colossal pieces of the wall fell with it.
Ridley shot downward, shifting to fire, and struck the rubble. With a deep, imaginary exhale, she let herself come apart, sending flames rushing across the ruins. They licked, raced, leaped, blazed, and soon the whole of Lumina City was encircled by flame. Pulling herself back to her contained elemental form, Ridley glided overhead. She couldn’t help imagining someone sitting inside their home staring out at this, possibly thinking the end of the world had come. I’m sorry, she thought. It’ll be over soon. All the arxium will be consumed and then this will be over.
She directed her attention upward to the arxium panels that hovered above the city, unable to help herself from feeling a touch of doubt. There were thousands of panels. The area was so much bigger than the area she and the others had practiced in near the reserve. Lumina City was enormous. And though Ridley was an heir, she was also just one elemental—and she was starting to tire. Could she really burn through everything? Fling all those thousands of burning panels beyond what remained of the wall?
Elemental Heir (Ridley Kayne Chronicles Book 3) Page 23