FACES SWAM IN THE LIGHT. FAMILIAR faces locked in expressions of desperate concern looked down upon Cassidy. Wren. Magnus. Rhythmic pressure on her chest. Warmth on her lips. Wind in her mouth.
A voice in the distance. “She’s gone.”
The pounding on her chest ceased; but a different beat, this one generated from within, picked up the pace. Her skin felt tight and heavy.
A pressure began in her lungs. It spread to her stomach and leaped into her throat. Water gushed from her mouth and nose. She coughed and gasped as the taste of sweet air reached her starved lungs.
More. She needed more. As the water fled her system, she replaced its absence with the invisible life all around her, breathing in the scents she’d grown up with—grass, salt water, sand. Her insides tingled, tiny pinpricks of pain-laced pleasure brought her back to the moment.
I’m alive. Someone, it must have been Magnus, picked her up and cradled her against his soft, grainy skin. He smelled like her grandfather’s cornfield after a summer rain, rich and fertile. Cassidy buried her face against his chest and drank in his scent.
“You’re safe now,” he murmured in her ear and pressed her close.
She had the impression of walls closing about her and, for a split second, every inch of her skin itched like an army of centipedes marched across her body. Her surroundings changed, the familiarity of a moonlit night in her own backyard replaced by a black field of glimmering orange stars. Alarmed, she raised her head, but Magnus pushed it back into place.
“Shshshhhh,” he whispered, dropping his chin to the top of her head, offering some measure of comfort. “It will be over before—”
Another eye blink, another setting change.
Cassidy stared up at a rough stone ceiling adorned with the mismatched peaks of stalactites aglow in a pale white light.
“Can you stand?” Magnus asked.
Cassidy nodded and he set her down, but held her close for support. The warm stone floor soothed her bare feet. They’d brought her to some sort of underground chamber that reminded her of her trip to Carlsbad when she was fourteen. The caverns there were beautiful, but this one put those dank holes to shame.
Three strangers, dressed in odd outfits like a cast from a diverse time-travel movie, stood atop a silver insignia carved into the stone floor. They held back, giving her time to find a measure of comfort in her new surroundings.
The chamber stretched out before her. Midway through, a stream burbled across the floor. It flowed from under the wall on her left to disappear beneath the stone on her right. Spanning that stream was a magnificent bridge made of a black crystalline material that reflected the light from the glowing crystals mounted evenly along the chamber walls. On the far side of the bridge, an opening led further into the rock.
Where is the door I came through? She turned. Against the wall, outlined in glittering gold, shimmered a gateway to…chaos. The setting looked like her backyard, but the wreckage…and her house?
Gone.
Two policemen popped their heads into view.
Her strength fled. She would have fainted, but for the Earth Knight’s support. As she watched, the gateway collapsed, shrinking in on itself until, with a final twinkle, it closed on her past.
This is a mistake. It has to be. How can it all just be gone? Cassidy stared at the blank stone wall, lip quivering, and willed the gateway to open, to show her house and yard and pool and life whole and back to normal.
“I am sorry, Ms. Sinclair.” A deep, sincere male voice broke the silence.
So am I.
Cassidy didn’t want to move, didn’t want to turn from this spot, didn’t want to acknowledge another abrupt change in the course of her life. Hadn’t she been through enough already?
Apparently not. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and slowly spun to face the others in the room. Wet clothes peeled off her skin. She shivered and clasped her arms around her still soaked body.
“Oh, for the sake of…Magnus, could you not get the girl some dry clothes?” A tall, whip-thin woman with waist-length white hair streaked with faint lavender highlights, left the confines of the symbol on the floor. She crossed the distance in a hurry, stripped off her long white cape and draped it across Cassidy’s shoulders. “That will do for now. My name is Cyndralla.” She smiled in welcome, showing long white teeth.
Those eyes…Timeless. Critical. And a sparkling shade of violet.
Cassidy couldn’t help but stare. While the woman was attractive, there was something about her that seemed…off. Maybe it was her face—high cheekbones flared wide then tapered into a thin round chin. Or, it could be her teeth. When she smiled, there seemed to be far too many to fit comfortably in such a narrow mouth. And her voice… The strange lilt and cadence to her speech was musical. She’d never heard anything quite like it. The way Cyndralla extended each syllable, as if savoring the feel of the words on her tongue before releasing them, struck Cassidy as beautiful.
“It’s not polite to stare, dear,” Cyndralla said.
“Oh, sorry.” Cassidy shook her head to erase her lapse in etiquette. “Sorry. And, um, thank you for the cloak. I’ll return it soon.” She pulled it tighter about her. The heavy, sumptuous fabric engulfed her body in its warm embrace.
Beyond Cyndralla, the others waited their turn to greet the newcomer. A swarthy man dressed in baggy trousers and a loose fitting, blue button-down glided forward.
“Dronor, at your service.” The man bowed, clasped Cassidy’s fingers and kissed the back of her hand. “Welcome.” He raised one eyebrow and stroked his moustache down to the tip of his manicured goatee.
Cassidy didn’t like the way he eyed her, and the lecherous echo of his touch made her shiver. She wanted to pull back, but figured it would be impolite and didn’t want to offend. Instead, she offered a polite nod.
A second gentleman, dressed in tight black pants, ruffled shirt and shiny black boots, stepped forward. His long white hair hinted at an age his youthful physique and sparkling eyes contradicted.
“Cassidy Sinclair, I am the Precept of the Knights Elementalis. You may call me Stillman.”
Cassidy sensed his authority without having to touch him. Here stood a man used to giving commands and having them obeyed without question. Under the scrutiny of his measured stare, she stood a little straighter and held her breath.
Stillman’s smile banished the tension and her mounting nerves.
“Be at ease, child. You are welcome to this place, the Cradle of the Elements.” He strode forward and wrapped her in a tight, grandfatherly hug.
At first contact, Cassidy sensed genuine affection, gratitude, and ageless serenity. He stepped back first and held her at arm’s length. “I believe some measure of thanks are in order.”
“For what, sir?”
All heads turned at the scuff of leather on stone from the opening at the other end of the room. Dev stormed in, arms cutting back and forth in time with his steps.
Cassidy overheard Magnus whisper to Wren, “Here it comes.”
Dev thundered across the chamber and stood over one of the triangles in the Order’s seal.
Wow.
He looked great dressed in form-fitting leather pants and sleeveless leather vest, every bit the primitive warrior.
“Another meeting without me?” Dev’s nostrils flared, anger flashed in his crimson-flecked eyes. “I’ve been restricted to the Cradle, not kicked out of the Order. The least you can do is include me in—” His mouth quit flapping the moment he locked eyes with Cassidy and his posture radically changed from one of anger and violence, to one of self-conscious embarrassment.
Cassidy watched the other Knights exchange baffled looks, except for Magnus, who grinned. Wren shifted away, quickly turning the crushed expression compressing her features to the floor. Cassidy had the decency to look away before Wren realized she had seen.
“I…I…I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, I didn’t know you were here.” Dev bowed.
“Cassidy, please, and it’s no problem. Really,” Cassidy said. “How are you feeling?”
“Um, much better, thank you.” Dev took a step back. “I guess I’ll…be…seeing you around. Bye.” With that, he turned on his heel and hustled out of the room.
Stillman cocked a glance at Cassidy then at the retreating Knight of Flame.
“Interesting,” he said. “Magnus will see to your accommodations. Make yourself at home, my dear.” With a nod, he followed Dev, but at a much more leisurely pace, hands clasped behind his back. The other Knights took their cue and filed out after saying their own farewells with a wave or a nod.
Wren slipped away at some point, leaving Magnus alone with Cassidy.
That was weird. Dev looks better though. Amazing.
“Let’s find you a room. I think there’s one over by the Knight of Air.”
“That’s not the creepy guy, is it?”
Magnus chuckled. “Who, Dronor? Nah. He’s the Knight of Water. Cyndralla is the Knight of Air.”
So, she is a Knight.
“She seems nice.” Cassidy said.
“She has her moments.” Magnus led the way.
What does he mean by that?