Dry dirt and dead corn husks crunched beneath our feet as we made our way down a straight path that led into the cornfield, using only the light from Aiden’s flashlight and the pale crescent moon to guide us.
Moments before, standing on the hood of the truck while Aiden grabbed a crowbar from the bed, I could barely make out the large structure looming just past the fields, where the corn was fresh-planted and the green stalks were low. But here, along the narrow gravel path, the dried, dead corn stalks towered high above our heads, obscuring everything around us. Every rustle – real or imaginary – made me jump. After a handful of embarrassing gasps and stumbles, I finally forced myself to look straight ahead at Aiden’s back, instead of at my sides or behind me, where the pitch-black cornfield seemed to stretch endlessly.
“Hey – just ahead, I think I see something,” Aiden whispered, using the crowbar to point to a dark, shiny patch on the ground about twenty feet out.
“Oh, thank god,” I muttered, half an inch from the back of Aiden’s shoulders. “I was starting to envision gruesome horror stories in my head.”
“Did they include chainsaws and hockey masks?”
“Why would they have chainsaws and hockey masks?”
Aiden stopped abruptly to turn toward me, and I let out a little yelp as I walked right into him.
“Remind me not to add any horror movies to the list of films I need to show you,” he chuckled softly, reaching out to help steady me.
“I actually have strict orders from myself not to watch horror movies,” I muttered, eliciting an odd look from Aiden. “…Er… I’ll explain later.”
“Yes, that’s definitely a story I’d like to hear,” he smiled. “In the meantime, I think we’re here.”
He pointed his flashlight at a yellow fire hydrant just a few yards in front of us. Beside it, a large brown tarp had been tied from its corners to four metal stakes in the ground. After untying the two corners closest to us, we pulled back the tarp the reveal a heavy, square wooden hatch that was resting atop a mound of raised dirt. A large ring pull made of heavy bronze was attached to one side of the door, but when Aiden bent over to give it a hard yank, the door didn’t budge.
I knelt down to inspect the hatch closely while Aiden shone his flashlight on it.
“It must be locked from the inside,” I mused. “Think we can pry it open with the crowbar?”
“I have a better idea,” Aiden said, kneeling down beside me. “Would you mind handing me my lighter, please?”
I dug it out of my pocket and handed it to him. “I have some matches too, if that helps.”
“I keep forgetting you’ve only been aware of your powers for a short time,” Aiden chuckled.
Oh, right.
“It’s very endearing, really,” he added, flicking open the lighter. “Though I am excited to see what happens once you are able to control – and remember – all that raw potential you possess. Still, right now we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
He arranged a few handfuls of dried corn husks on top of the door before holding the flame to the pile, blowing on it the moment they caught. I stared at him incredulously as he fanned the flames that were beginning to blossom across the dried kindling.
“Why not just… shoot a plume of Fire at the door? Won’t that be much faster?”
“It would be much faster,” Aiden agreed. “It would also be sensed by every single Elementalist in that compound, particularly the imprisoned Pyromancers, who might become rather excited at the prospect of a nearby conjured flame.”
“Oh, of course,” I answered, feeling stupid yet again. “Because Elementalists can sense when someone is wielding an Element close by, right?”
“Right – the more power I use, the more acutely they’ll feel it. Even Hydromancers, to some extent, can sense Pyromancy, if it’s strong enough or in close enough proximity to where they are. The next time I use my powers near you, try to see if you can sense it.”
“What would that even feel like?” I asked, watching the flames slowly engulfing the wooden door. Aiden rose to his feet, dusting the dirt off his jeans. I followed suit and we stood side by side, the orange glow from the fire illuminating our somber faces.
“It’s something that I can’t quite explain,” Aiden replied, a pensive expression on his face. “Almost like trying to describe sight or smell. But as you become more acclimated to your own powers and to the powers of others, you’ll begin to sense when an Elementalist is practicing nearby. While I’m quite attuned to Fire, and less so the other Elements, I imagine you’ll be able to sense all five rather easily.”
I nodded thoughtfully as the wood of the door begin to crackle and snap. Suddenly I felt the slightest sensation creeping down my back, as though a trickle of warm liquid was spreading across my skin. I glanced at Aiden, who was looking at me expectantly.
“I might have given the fire the tiniest nudge,” he said, almost guiltily. “Nothing they’ll notice a half-mile away.”
“I felt something, just then,” I said, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck.
Aiden nodded; his eyes looked far away. “It’s so thoughtless, almost naïve, really, putting an emergency exit with a wooden door outside a Pyromantic facility. It’s like… they put all their thought and effort into keeping people in, but the thought never crossed their mind that they’d have to keep people out as well.”
“I guess there’s just not much opposition within the Order,” I remarked. “Everyone seems to view it as some Elementalist utopia. And I suppose if they don’t… well, they end up here.”
“Not many Elementalists end up in these Containment Centers,” Aiden replied, staring into the crackling flames. “The Order spends an exorbitant amount of money to contain a rather insignificant number of offenders. As for the rest of the Community acquiescing without question, I suppose it’s easy to become complacent and comfortable when you’re willfully blind to the things you don’t want to see.”
“And when the Order bribes and seduces you with money, along with whatever else you could ever hope for,” I muttered bitterly.
Before he could reply, the door in the ground suddenly cracked inwardly, making a loud crashing sound as the charbroiled wood collapsed into the deep, square-shaped hole below.
“That’s our cue,” Aiden announced, kicking dirt over a few rogue corn husks on the ground to extinguish them.
My heart racing, we cautiously approached the small mouth of the entrance and looked down at the remains of the door far below, now just a pile of hot coals and ashes scattered about twenty feet down at the bottom of the shaft. I casually directed its coiling plume of smoke away from Aiden’s face with the help of the evening breeze.
“Thank you,” he smiled, bending down to ease himself onto the metal ladder that rose from the tunnel below. “Would you mind?” he asked, handing me the crowbar.
I nodded, taking it from him carefully. Aiden climbed about halfway down, then craned his neck to look down the tunnel.
“It looks like it’s decently lit down there, so that’s a plus.” He hopped down to the ground, holding up his hands to motion me down. “Ready when you are!”
“Heavy metal object coming your way,” I called down to him, wincing as I dropped it. He caught it deftly, then gave me a thumbs-up.
As I hoisted myself onto the ladder to follow him down the metal rungs, I could see that there were indeed some dim electric lights that had been wired alongside the ladder and, ostensibly, throughout the tunnel. I clambered down the ladder awkwardly; I’m not afraid of heights, per se, but climbing down a twenty-foot ladder with sweaty palms, poised just above a pile of smoldering coals – let’s just say it wasn’t exactly a relaxing endeavor. As I reached the bottom of the ladder, I jumped from the last rung, narrowly avoiding the smoldering pile of hot coals with Aiden’s help. As I slumped against him – panting, my arms pinned against his chest – he leaned down to kiss my forehead gently.
“You okay?” He whispered against my skin.
I nodded, glancing nervously down the dimly-lit passageway, which appeared to stretch on indefinitely. Its walls – merely bare, packed dirt – were strung every eight or so feet with dim LED lamps, the high ceiling was reinforced by large metal support beams, and the ground was crisscrossed with narrow tire tracks. Golf carts, perhaps?
“Just remember – if anything goes wrong, run. Don’t wait for me, don’t linger – just get out of there, and take the truck with you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m serious, Aspen,” Aiden said, gripping my arms tightly. “I want you to promise me that if anything happens, you will leave – just fry the lights and go.”
“I promise,” I uttered reflexively, caught off-guard by the urgency in his voice.
He paused, searching my eyes for a moment, then exhaled.
“Thank you,” he said, taking my hand to lead me down the tunnel. “Now – according to the information I found, the service tunnel goes about a half-mile underground, leading to the administrative offices in the basement, which should be unmanned in the evening.”
“And if they’re not?” I asked, walking briskly alongside him. “If there are guards there?”
“Then I’ll handle them – I just need your help finding the roster with my sister’s cell. I can create a diversion while you open her cell door. Once we have her – well, she’s also a Level-Three Pyromancer, even more talented than me.”
My eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wow… Talented family.”
“Pyromancy runs strong in our family, yes. I think my sister and I are the twelfth generation of Pyromancers or something outrageous like that. My dad is somewhat of an oddity, with his secondary Auromantic skills. But both he and my mom were always very proud of our lineage.” He snickered then, almost disdainfully. “My mother was constantly trying to set me up with her friends’ Pyromantic daughters to continue that trend.”
My stomach knotted. I had never realized that I had jealous tendencies, not until meeting Aiden, at least. I frowned inwardly, troubled by the realization.
Aiden glanced at me and chuckled. “Don’t worry – Pyromancers aren’t really my type. I’m finding, more and more as of late, that I seem to have a thing for Pentamancers.”
“Just any old Pentamancer who crosses your path?” I teased.
“Nope – only the ones with raven-black hair and two-toned eyes,” he smiled.
“That seems extraordinarily particular.”
“Well, I have extraordinarily selective taste.”
I blushed, self-consciously tucking my hair behind my ear. We were quiet for some time after that, the only sounds in the tunnel the dull plodding of our feet on the packed dirt, and our quick, shallow breaths from the brisk pace of our walk. The long underground tunnel really did seem as though it would stretch on forever, and though it was probably ten feet wide and at least as tall, I couldn’t help but feel like the walls were inching closer and closer, as though the ceiling might collapse on top of us at any moment…
When we finally approached a black-painted, narrow metal door at the end of the tunnel, Aiden and I stopped just in front of it, eyeing it warily. My heart was thudding inside my chest like a lead mallet. I wanted nothing more than to burst through it and get out of that dark, suffocating place; but it was entirely possible – probable, even – that I’d have to face something much worse than claustrophobia on the other side. I looked around the ceiling above the door, wondering if there was a camera hidden somewhere, if we were already being watched. I didn’t see one – not that that necessarily meant one wasn’t there. Aiden let go of my hand and stepped forward – giving me one last resolute glance as he did so – then turned the knob.