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The place got points for creepy. Light was filtering in from somewhere else and there was no dust, as if someone cleaned regularly. We found ourselves in a large room. There was mishmashed industrial shelving weighed down with boxes full of I-don’t-know-what. The creepy part – aside from the abandonment – was the fact there were paintings everywhere.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, were leaning against walls and shelves and boxes. They were all sorts of sizes and types, oil, acrylic, watercolour, you name it. I wove my way through the maze-like conditions, looking around nervously.
Self-consciously, and unable to shake the feeling like I was being watched, I knelt down to flick through a stack of paintings. It was hard to tell in the lighting if they were old or new. Some had frames, and about ninety percent of them included figures.
There was a crash behind me. I jumped and whirled around. “Keep it down!” I hissed at Fera, who’d been inspecting a stack as well and had sent some sliding down.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
As I was frowning, I saw one of the paintings behind Fera wiggle. No, not wiggle, exactly. The canvas hadn’t moved but something had. Fera, whose back was turned, didn’t notice. I hastily stood and dragged her over to my side. She didn’t complain.
I looked around nervously, trying to figure out what was off. I kept seeing shadows move. My heart was pounding.
Then I saw a figure rise, but it wasn’t a person. It had just appeared in front of a painting, and was shimmering as if insubstantial. I could see right through them. Right through them to the blank hole on the canvas . . .
I screamed. “They’re alive! Oh, gods, Fera, the paintings are moving!” More figures were rising out of their images. I spun around, but everywhere I looked ghostly people were coming into existence. Fera and I clutched each other. I ignored how badly my skin stung.
I stumbled away from the nearest ghosts. They were ghastly things, moving in a terrifying, jerky manner and not making a sound. Then there was a blinding flash and crackling noise. The ground blackened and Fera screamed. “Run!” I yelped.
I picked a direction at random and bolted.
We made it a few paces before something bright streaked in front of us. When I could see again, the countless apparitions were moving in our direction. “Whatdawedo? Whatdawedo!” Fera shrieked at me.
“I don’t know!” I heard a sound and there was a confusing moment as I tried to spin and Fera sent out fire. I saw as it went right through the specters and lit the pictures behind up in flames.
I reacted automatically, whipping out water to douse the blaze. Didn’t need to add a burning building to our list of problems. I slapped the water out, seeing, horrified, that it went straight through the apparitions. “We can’t hurt them,” I muttered. “We can’t fight!”
“What if we run through them?” Fera suggested, her voice panicky.
“I don’t know what they are!” I was scared they’d possess us or something. We were under attack by living paintings!
They were really close now. Fera and I held each other tightly. I realized I was whimpering. The figures were only a few feet away. I squeezed my eyes shut. “We’re dead, aren’t we?” Fera managed. I tried to nod, my throat completely closed up from fear.
“STOP!” a voice yelled. I jerked my eyes open in surprise. Someone was running in front of me and my sister. “Stop, all of you!” To my shock, the apparitions froze and then dissolved into nothing.
I looked around confused, mouth dry. Windows were being opened and light was flooding in, and people were suddenly appearing from hiding places. Standing in front of us was a young man. As he turned, Fera and I scrambled back until we couldn’t go any further. Whoever could command what had happened was clearly someone to be scared of.
A bunch of people began to surround us in a loose ring. “What’s the deal?” someone called.
“It’s a long story, but these two aren’t a threat,” said the stranger, watching us. Something about him was familiar, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
“Those two?” someone else asked.
The stranger nodded. “Yeah. They wandered here by accident, and based on what I’ve seen, we don’t have to worry.”
Fera and I looked at each other. She drew herself up more bravely than I and looked at him. “How do you know us?”
He raked a hand through his tawny hair. “That’s going to take some explaining. Let’s just say, at the moment any enemy of the Wind Tribe is a friend of ours.” I went still. How could he know that?
“What –” Fera seemed at a loss. “You’re . . . what?”
“You’ve been following us,” I breathed, everything falling into place. “Oh gods, you’ve been spying!” Fera glanced at me uncertainly, but I saw his surprise. I’d hit the truth and suddenly I could see everything.
I stepped forward, feeling a rush of anger and disgust. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! You were the guy at the ceremony and on the cart and at the inn! And I’m willing to bet you’re the reason I’ve felt like we’ve been watched for ages! You’ve been stalking us since the beginning! What the hell? Who in Teine’s flames are you? Why do you know about the Wind Tribe? Nobody else does – this is way beyond creepy! You followed us, and now you’ve stopped a – an insane attack and I. Want. Some. ANSWERS!” And I burst into tears.
I didn’t even try to hide it; just stood there and let every wild emotion out in a rush of hot, salty tears. Dimly I was aware of Mister Follower being caught completely off guard and Fera threatening everybody with a fist full of fire. Some woman stepped forward to hold me comfortingly. I didn’t really like it, but didn’t complain.
I couldn’t hear what was being said. I allowed myself to be led away, though where was hard to tell with my blurry eyesight. I was offered a handkerchief, which I took, and directed into a room with what’s-his-name.
I scrubbed at my face, blew my nose, and took a few deeps breath as I heard the door close and a lock turn behind me and Fera.
Stalker Guy kept his back to us for a second, shifting awkwardly. I wiped the last tears off my face as Fera and I automatically gave each other a secret low high five.
“I saw that.” he said as he faced us. I gaped at him. There was no way.
Fera folded her arms, “Great,” she mumbled, “eyes on the back of his head.”
He crossed his arms, putting on a frown. “Nice to know you manipulated me and everyone in there.”
“It wasn’t manipulation,” I argued, “It was . . . playing to natural human empathy.” He raised his eyebrows skeptically. Okay, yeah, they were the same thing but I really didn’t care.
“And how often do you ‘play to natural human empathy’?” he asked.
“That’s not important,” I muttered. The number was a bit higher than I cared to tell this guy.
Fera stepped towards him, flames dancing on her fingertips. “Okay. Answers. Now.”
He looked at us. “Not so fast. You’re the trespassers here. I believe you’ll be the one’s giving answers. In case you didn’t realize, you’re outnumbered and outmatched.”
“So, we’re prisoners,” I surmised.
“Guests,” he corrected, “under a watch.”
I scowled. “Same thing.”
Fera nudged me. “Um, couldn’t he throw us in cells if we’re ‘prisoners’?”
I sighed. “Fera, you’re not helping right now.” She shrugged. Mister Whoever was watching us, an expression it took a minute to read on his face. “Oh, no. You’re not really . . .?”
They put us in separate rooms. Sure, they were nice rooms, but me and Fera were still separate. That completely messed up the way we worked, and it made my heart beat with nerves. They also took my Relic, which meant no water, no weapon, and no defence. I heard the lock tick behind me and swallowed down panic.
The room was simple; a cot with pillow and blankets on the right, and a chair and desk on the left. A high and small paned window let in sunlight, and a cheery lamp hung on the wall. There was a parchment, quill, and ink on the desk. Dumb move, but . . . an idea unfolded in my mind.
They also hadn’t taken my pack. I slung it off my back, wincing, and sat down at the desk. You’re supposed to be the smart one, I thought, so let’s see how clever you can be. Placing my bag on a free spot, I smoothed out a sheet of paper, picked up the quill, wetted it, and started to write.
I was so absorbed in what I was doing, I almost missed hearing the door open a crack.
“Are you sure now –?”
“Yes, now,” said a familiar voice. “I know it’s been a month, but some things take priority.”
I kept writing. The door slammed closed. I flinched and pivoted in my seat to see the guy with the tawny hair. “Hello, Mira.” he said, pleasantly enough.
“Right,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
He ignored the obvious question. “What are you doing?” He stepped closer, intending to look. I waved my hand over the parchment and it turned into an inky smudge.
“Nice try,” I said, giving a brittle smile. “I can do that all day – I’ve kept a lot of things secret that way, even from my sister.”
He looked at me curiously. “How many?”
I shrugged. “Fifty-seven.”
“Impressive.”
“Not really. How come you picked me first? I seem more malleable than Fera?”
He frowned. “How’d you know I came here first?”
“You just told me.” He blinked and I tried not to laugh. “Joking. I knew ‘cause, oh let’s see; there’s been no screams and explosions, which she’d likely have done, and you’re not even the least bit singed. Also, a very short amount of time has elapsed.”
“Right.” He leaned back against the wall. “Time to get down to business. How much do you know about the Arasha Crystal?”
I looked at him blankly. “The what?” It was only a partial act. I tried to dredge up what was on the scroll and what I’d heard the Wind Tribe say.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“I don’t . . . I mean there’s . . .” I was thinking hard. “Why don’t,” I said carefully, “you tell me what you know?”
“That is not how this conversation is going to be,” he told me.
I shrugged. “Well, it’s a bit hard to help you if I don’t know what you need. Of course, you might not need anything since you’ve followed us.”
“I didn’t want to,” he grumbled. “Kinda of had no choice when you two took things on yourself. You weren’t even supposed to know, or recognize me, for that matter.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You did look different,” I admitted. “Not overly, but enough so I didn’t see it before. How? Imported hair dye is too expensive to waste like that, not to mention it wasn’t just your colouring. That shouldn’t be possible.”
“We’re all basically impossible, here.”
“What, demigods or something?”
He shook his head. “Nothing quite so fantastical.”
“Then what?” I demanded. I really hated not knowing things.
For a moment he looked unsure. “I can’t say. You’re an outsider.”
I thought on that. “But what if I guess? That’s not breaking your whatever code, right?”
He opened and closed his mouth. “I guess so . . . but –”
“Great.” I was already thinking, pulling up every little thing I could. “Just hang on a sec – you claim that you’re all impossible but at the same time ordinary, and you have a random building in the middle of nowhere. Therefore, you’re an organization that wants to stay hidden from the general public. You also have quite the awareness of what’s going on, but that’s plausible if you’re underground spies. So far, just a secret group.”
“You’re not doing a very good job,” he said.
“I’m not finished,” I snapped. “You called me an outsider, despite saying I’m not a threat, meaning you have no intention of me joining, meaning there has to be a specific requirement that I don’t have – and it can’t be age or gender, because I just saw a lot of people and it was the same ratios you’d find in the general population. It has to be an ability.” He was getting uncomfortable now. “And it’s not something normal because what I saw is beyond any of the four tribes. However, because you claim it is normal for these people . . . I think I know what this is.”
He looked at me curiously. “Lots of inferences, there,” he said grudgingly. “Alright, what do you think?”
“You’re . . .” I swallowed nervously at the notion. “You’re elementalists. A fifth type of elementalists, though how or what I don’t know.” I expected him to laugh, and I felt stupid for saying it. The notion was insane!
Instead he was looking anywhere but me. I made some sort of squeaking sound. I wanted to run away, except there was nowhere to go and I was paralyzed.
He fiddled with his sleeves. “You are smart,” he admitted. “More so than I thought – it’s actually kind of refreshing.”
I made another squeaking noise. “You mean actually . . . what –”
“Aether,” he filled in. “Our element is aether, or the common name is energy. That’s what we use.”
My mind was reeling. “You use energy. Okay. Still doesn’t explain the walking paintings or how you looked different.”
I was really trying not to lose self-control. I didn’t know if I should scream or cry or just panic. If anything, I wanted to close my eyes until this dreamscape was over. Maybe I’d wake up back in my bed at home the night before the celebration . . . but no. This was reality.
He was thinking and I found myself fiddling nervously with my fingers. “It’s . . . well, to exist, everything is made of a form of matter, right?”
“Right,” I nodded. I got that much. It was very close to elemental abilities one-oh-one.
“So . . . everything is matter. But what allows us to see it, feel it, know it exists is the energy within this matter. No one can actually move things or manipulate it, not like other elementalists, there’s too much to channel, but we can change the energy that people use to perceive things.”
I looked at him curiously, tilting my head. “You mean everything we see is energy, and you change that?”
“Basically,” he said. “You know how you can’t see in the dark? That’s because we need light to see thing, and light is energy –”
“And I know how humans see and basic physics. Move on, please.”
He half shrugged. “Sorry. Anyways, we can make that energy, the light, do what we want, cause it to move and change so it’s seen as something else. Like the moving paintings. It’s a trick to normally scare people off. You saw what we created out of energy. Very insubstantial, but it can be done with anything.”
“Seriously?” I had a hard time believing this.
“Yeah. That chair for example . . .” He got a very concentrated, disconnected expression, and suddenly I was on nothing.
I mean, I was on something, because I didn’t fall and I could feel the shape beneath me. There was just nothing to see; instead, the chair was a few feet away. I felt dizzy from the apparent floating and thought I was going to hurl. “Stop it, please,” I gasped out.
Abruptly the chair was back. I touched the wood tentatively with my hands, to see if it was real. He took a few steps towards me. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” I managed, jerking back. “I’m fine.” I pressed the heel of my palm against my forehead, trying to clear the ache. “What about those other lights?” I asked. “When we were being attacked –” I shot a glare and he had the grace to look embarrassed, “there was something bright that left burn marks. And don’t say it was an illusion. I know it wasn’t.”
“That,” he began uncomfortably. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“Too late,” I told him. “Couldn’t you just tell me, please?”
He looked at me with those hazel-gold eyes, dead serious, and said, “It’s lightning.” I thought I hadn’t heard him right, and it must’ve shown on my face. “It really is lightning – one of the purest forms of aether.”
To my horror, he raised his hand and let electric sparks dance along his fingers. “This is how we fight.” I watched as he sent a bolt from one hand to the other. I could feel the power from across the room and I made a promise to never place myself in a position where he’d attack me.
Understand the threat, I thought quickly, understand the threat. I took a deep breath. “What . . . what’s the source?” I managed, surprised my voice was still working.
It was a basic question. All elemental abilities had to have a source; for me a Relic, for Fera nearly anything as long as there was oxygen.
“Most of the time, life,” he admitted. “At least for electricity. It’s impossible to draw it from another place unless it’s also living or there’s a storm, so we use our life force. Needless to say, not many of us risk it. I don’t have to worry, though.”
He flipped back his sleeve and showed me what he wore on his wrist. I realized that was what he’d been fiddling with. It was a simple, thin silver chain with a tiny teardrop shaped stone of a dark mossy green. “It’s a Relic,” he said, showing me. “Allows me to have a continuous source, just like your Relic.”
“My Relic . . .” I murmured, my gaze hardening, “the one you took from me!”
“Yeah, well, you’re – hang on!” He pushed his sleeve down angrily. “You’re supposed to be the one explaining things and answering questions, not me!”
“Really? Because it didn’t seem like that from this side of the conversation.”
“Then get on the other side of it!”
“Fine!” I stood up, deciding to take a very literally meaning of those words.
He blinked caught off guard. “I didn’t mean – sit back down!” I sat. “I can’t believe you manipulated me into doing what you wanted!”
“If I’d been manipulating you, I’d have been crying.” I said hotly.
“You said that wasn’t manipulating.” he pointed out.
Shoot, I’d been hoping he wouldn’t notice. “There are different ways of going about it,” I growled. “And if I’d really wanted, I’d probably have gotten taken out of this room already! All I did was ask questions!”
“I’m the one asking questions!”
“Well sor-ry,” I growled. “But after everything I’m kind of confused with a lot of questions and I really don’t like unanswered questions!”
“Well now you’ve gotten all your answers!”
“Yeah? What’s your name?”
“That’s not important.”
“Aha! See? That’s the third time I’ve asked – you’re avoiding it!”
“Shut up!” He said it so forcefully I flinched. I hadn’t realized how loudly we’d been yelling, and how close I’d gotten to attacking him with ink. Would’ve been pathetic.
Both of us were frustrated, with thick breathing and a refusal to look directly at one another. What I wouldn’t give for my Relic. Or any water.
He drew a deep breath. “Let’s start this over. How much do you know about the Crystal and the Wind Tribe’s plans?”
“You mean, aside from the obvious take-over-the-Council bit? Not much,” I admitted. “We figured anything that could cause a whole tribe to basically wage war against the government should be kept out of their hands – we don’t even know what it is, really. Something that gives power?”
“Nice try.” He gave me a patronizing smile and I shrugged. “What about what you’ve been following as instructions? A scroll, I believe.”
“A bunch of poems that lead to places, yes,” I said. “But it’s too vague to make sense of.”
“Show me.”
I hesitated. “No.”
He looked at me for a moment and then said, “Fine, then.” He pushed away from the wall and reached for my bag. I yelped and lunged forward, snatching it off the desk and holding it tightly, let out a slight sound as my wolf cuts cracked. He stared at me, something I couldn’t read on his face – pity? Compassion? Mild annoyance?
I sighed. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
I scowled and put the bag down, digging through it to bring the scroll out. I pulled loose the string and unfurled it, holding it open on the desk. He stepped closer and leaned over my shoulder to look. I became acutely aware of the close proximity.
“It’s . . . scribbles,” he said dully.
I ran my eyes over the words. “Fera’s not alone then . . . I can read it. Looks like Kanish.”
“What’s it say?”
I looked up at him and shook my head. “Not telling. Last time I translated it we started this mess.”
He looked disappointed. “Fair enough.”
He moved away and paced a little, thinking. I stood there silently. After a few minutes he stopped and faced me. “Tell me everything; from how you found that up to now.”
I sat down in the chair slowly, balancing on the edge. “It’s a long story,” I told him.
I thought he’d just move on, but to my surprise he sat down on the ground and leaned against the wall, shrugging. “We’ve got time.”
I blinked and took a deep breath. “Okay then.” So I told him everything, or not quite everything. I left out key things like the specifics of the clues and the strange item. He didn’t question or ask about anything. Maybe he didn’t want to interrupt, or maybe he thought it was all in the writing only I could read.
The story took a long time, and by the end my voice was hoarse and cracking. I desperately wanted a drink but was too proud as a water elementalist to ask.
“. . . And then we reached this place. All we know is to head east,” I coughed, trying to get moisture back into my throat. “Though I suppose you knew most of this.”
“Bits and pieces,” he said. “I haven’t been following you two the whole time, and I only did it because I’m trying to help.”
“Help?” I managed to rasp out, staring incredulously. “How is locking me and Fera in separate rooms helpful?”
He focused on the ground. “That’s . . . a precaution. It’s separate from my efforts to help. I’ll explain later, I hope. Just one last thing – do you and your sister still wear those necklaces?”
I fought the instinct to finger the chain. We’d worn them under our clothes since the thieves. In truth we hadn’t bothered getting around to taking them off. “Yes.”
He nodded once and stood up. “I should go.” He turned to the door.
I stood up instantly. “No, wait!” He paused. “Please, I don’t understand. What is it that’s happening? What do you know?” I took a couple steps closer, enough to see his face. He really couldn’t have been that much older than me, but his face was haggard and tired. Like one forced to bear too much responsibility.
“I can’t tell you,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”
He reached out for the handle, but I put a hand out to stop him. “No. It’s our mess, our job to fix it. Whatever you know, tell me.”
“No.” His jaw tightened.
“Why not? Am I too unimportant in whatever your grand scheme is?”
“I’m not saying that!”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He didn’t face me and said, “Won’t.” Well, that answered that. I felt insulted. I opened my mouth to yell but he beat me to it, not even raising his voice. “It’s not safe for you to know, Mira. Not everything. Until I can figure it out – I . . . I’ll just leave now.”
I spun away from him, folding my arms. “Fine,” I said shakily, “go. Just leave me locked up in a room all alone! But why should you care? You have to deal with a secret society of elementalists!” I glared at him over my shoulder.
“Oh for – there’s too much to explain!”
“Of course,” I said sarcastically. “So just go ahead and leave and keep being a big mass of secrets!”
“I give up! You’re impossible!”
“Try my sister!”
“I think I will!” He jerked the door open. “Good bye!” He stormed out.
I took a moment to compose myself. Gods, I hadn’t lost control of my feelings like that for years, at least not around people who weren’t Fera. I hated it, because I wanted to appear capable even if I wasn’t. Focus, I reminded myself, focus and stick to your plan. I had to make sure I did this right and not mess up the timing. It might be the only chance.
Crossing back to the desk, I waved my hand and returned the words to their proper state. Then I turned it over, redipped the quill and started to write out what I’d learnt, and another message beside. Another, very important message.