Chapter 23

Thunder rumbled in the distance as the brilliant blue sky faded to a hazy gray. The wind picked up out of nowhere, slapping Starke and I with its harshness, like it knew exactly what we were up to and wasn’t happy with us.

The gray mist sank from the sky as quick as a boat with a cannonball shot through the bow. It encompassed the cliff, swallowing up Bish and the soldiers with its spidery tendrils. Fear encased me as much as the cloud did the hilltop. I could feel the formidable power emanating from the cloud. From her. How were we supposed to compete with that?

The cloud began to settle, its swirling wisps calming down to a translucent sheet of gray silk. Objects began to appear in the mist. Objects that made my blood run cold and fill my chest with a devastating sense of disappointment. Not only had the mist concealed two morquals, but a large shadow also emerged, filled with crying people that could be heard across the span between us. The wagon. Asha had found the wagon full of villagers and transported it and Kara here with her. Kara’s terrified face stood out, pale in the dark gray as she wobbled her way to Bish and he caught her from falling to her knees. I almost sank to my own knees in despair. I failed. So much for my big idea of leading Asha away. She had her claws tangled in deep with those Starke and I had tried to protect.

She descended from the gray smoke, her gorgeous orange wings spread wide, like some kind of distant goddess wanting to see her people’s devotion up close. As her arms lifted high towards the sky a stillness fell over everything. The villagers in the wagon. The birds in the trees. The wind in the sky. Like nothing dared make a sound and draw her attention.

“What a glorious day.” Her voice echoed in the deafening silence, along with the tinkling laughter that made her seem like a happy-go-lucky little girl instead of some psycho killer. Her arms fell back to her side as her shrewd stare examined the forest spread out below her.

“Starke. Bridjette. Come out, come out, wherever you are. I know you’re there.”

I couldn’t have ignored her, as much as I wanted to, since I felt her probing magic latch on like a sucker fish. Even though Starke was shaking his head an emphatic no, it felt like there were sharp hooks in my belly yanking me forward from the cover of the trees. She was controlling me, just as she did at the prism tower.

Starke followed me. I wasn’t sure if she was in control of him or not, but he stayed by my side as she dragged me across the meadow, my feet stumbling every step of the way as I tried to fight her. Even though I couldn’t move my head, I noticed from the corner of my eye, movement from the woodland. More of her soldiers emerged from the trees, surrounding us on all angles. We had nowhere to run, even if we could. We reached the bottom of the rise she stood on and I staggered when she finally released me from her grasp.A jagged white scar across her beautiful face masqueraded as a smile as she stared down at us.

“There you are. Starke, my boy. And the water elemental. My, my. You two have been awfully busy now haven’t you? Getting into all kinds of mischief. Becoming a real thorn in my side.”

“You should know all about that, right?” I muttered, sarcasm the only form of defiance I had right now.

“What? Sorry? Speak up dear. I can’t hear your pathetic little voice from down there.”

“Let my people go, Asha.” Starke had no gumption about yelling, his demanding voice full of contempt and hatred for her. “They have nothing to do with this.”

“Well of course they do, silly boy. They were my people long before they were your people. But then you hoodwinked them.”

“Hoodwinked?” I sneered, unable to stop my lips from flapping.

Asha shrugged. “Deceived. Duped. Conned. Whatever word you wish to use. Misled them into believing you were the rightful heir to the throne. Left me with egg on my face as half my servants and indentured ran away to join your little brigade of believers.” She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on her forearms and staring coldly down her nose. “Do you know how weak that made me look to my nobles and allies? How soft they thought me to be since I let you slip away with them?”

“Is that why you massacred them?” I asked, even as the claws of fear dug deeper into my stomach. “Because of your stupid pride?”

“Massacred…?” Her well-coiffed head tilted to the side as she tasted the word, like she wasn’t quite sure what I meant. “Oh, you’re referring to me burning down my son’s silly little village. Well, dear, someone had to pay the price for your and Starke’s disobedience, did they not? I told you before, all actions suffer consequences. And I was tired of you two getting in my way. I want the elementals. I need the elementals. The sooner you realize that, water wielder, and come to your senses and join me, the better it will be for everyone involved.”

“I will never help you,” I snapped, anger at her cold dismissal of the lives she had destroyed replacing the fear. How could anyone be that empty and barren of feeling? Starke was nothing like her.

Laughter erupted at my anger. She actually threw back her head and laughed like I just told her the world’s greatest joke.

She glided toward me and just when I thought she was done laughing, she started all over again, wiping at her eyes.

“You say that like you actually think you have a choice. Silly, silly girl.” Stopping a few feet from me, she studied my face. “When will you learn that your life and those of the other elementals already belong to me? Why are you humans so stubborn and dull-witted?” She shrugged. “I really don’t understand why the prism chose such a worthless species to carry the elemental responsibilities. Truly.”

She moved to Starke and he stiffened beside me like he was fighting against himself from reaching out and throttling her. My gaze jumped back and forth between them. They looked so much alike. I hadn’t truly noticed before.

“Why do you bother with such useless creatures, my darling? They are so boring and trivial.” Reaching out with an elegant hand, she pushed his hair from his eyes. Seriously. Like she was some typical soccer mom and not this world’s replica of Hitler. He pulled away from her touch like she repulsed him. “And why do you fight me so? We could be the most powerful duo together. We would rule the multiverse, you and I, yet you still resist.”

“I will resist until the day I die, Asha. You should know me well enough by now.”

“Hmm. Yes, I do know you. Better than you might think, my darling. Now, where is the last elemental? I grow weary of this little game of ours.”

“You know I will never hand the elementals to you. Not while I still have breath in my body.”

She sighed. “Fine. You want to make it difficult. I see that now even though I cannot understand why. You know I will get my way in the end, but we will play your game. Besides, my pets are hungry. What’s that human saying? Kill two birds with one stone?”

She waved a casual hand at her soldiers still on the cliff. They began to move the villagers from the wagon and I almost choked as my heart leaped into my mouth. One young girl started screaming and fighting as the guard yanked her toward a morqual, the creature’s nose rising eagerly into the air at the approach. There was no misunderstanding of what was about to happen, even though my heart refused to believe it.

“Stop,” Bishop’s shriek joined with the girl’s as he leaped at the guard, the branch swiping low. It never connected. I felt Asha’s magic whip by me as it assaulted Bish, jerking him backwards like a giant claw had just hooked his shirt and pulled him straight up in the air. The morqual, pissed that his dinner was being interrupted, lifted off the ground and caught Bish’s leg in a vicious clawed grip. He flew out over the cliff, dangling Bish upside down high above the ragged, rocky drop to the ocean below.

“No!” The scream ripped at my throat. “Don’t hurt him.”

Asha’s eyes jumped back and forth between me and Bish, alit with excited hunger.

“Why little elemental, do you care for this old human?”

“Just don’t hurt him,” I growled.

She clapped her hands. “You do care. Like a stray dog or something, yes? That is just so pathetic.”

She flicked a hand again and the morqual swept back in over the cliff, dropping Bish onto the rocky terrain of the rise. I winced as he hit the ground hard, but at least she hadn’t dropped him to his death.

“See how reasonable I can be, dear?” She smiled at me; her dazzling beauty distracted by the sharp canines. “Now why don’t you try the same? Where is the last elemental?”

Something not right buzzed along my skin. Why did she keep asking about the last elemental? Did she know where the other two were? Did she already have them? Fear coated my tongue wondering if my grandmother’s village had already met the same fate as Starke’s.

I guess my silence offended her since another hand flick resulted in shadows moving over the ground. I watched in horror as Bishop was attacked and entwined with creeping vines that lifted him up to hang in midair. His arms and legs splayed wide like the Vitruvian Man painting, he stared her down in defiance. Before I could beg for his safety again, a tortured wind screamed around us, filled with malignance. Sharpened tree branches appeared from nowhere and whipped through the air like missiles. They flew at Bish, slicing through his spread palms, feet, and side with the ease of a hot knife through butter. His screams as she crucified him right in front of us ripped my own screams from my throat and my heart from my chest. My breath was coming as fast as a frightened rabbit as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I feared I was going to pass out, and I fought against the pressure building in my head. But at least Bishop’s groans of pain floating on the wind told me he was still alive. Asha must have realized the same since the vines crept higher, snaking around his neck and strangling his cries.

“Leave him alone!” I lunged, not thinking straight, just wanting to rip her damn throat out. To keep Bish alive. She sidestepped me easily, her murky magic staining the air around me and lifting me off my feet.

“Enough,” she screamed as her magic wrapped around my neck, cutting off my air supply now. “I’m done with playing. Tell me where the last elemental is.”

Her probing magic sliced at my brain, ripping it apart, trying to find the coordinates. My eyes popped as I struggled to breathe and yet fight her magic with my own. My spell started to charge down my arm, buzzing with magic, even as the black spots swam in front of my eyes. I needed my sai before I passed out.

A sudden intake of breath as I was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. I realized I could breathe again the same moment all hell broke loose. I struggled to my knees, my oxygen deprived brain trying to understand what was happening around me.

The field around us was erupting with bodies. Wiry-haired bodies, rushing at our enemies from the forest. Hundreds of them. Cutting down the soldiers as the sounds of snarls and screams and gunshots echoed through the meadow. Her soldiers fought back, but there were so many of the loping, familiar creatures flooding the area. The mutant wolves Starke and I had encountered on our way to the prism tower. Asha’s own creations coming to our rescue. I wobbled and almost fell to my knees, weeping in relief. Oh my God, thank you, you beautiful beings!

My brain still not functioning properly, I hesitated. I knew I should stand and help fight, but Bishop and the villagers were the only thing on my mind right now. I needed to help them. To protect them from the morquals.

“Go! I’ll keep her off you,” Starke yelled at me as he drew his sword and jumped into the fray, going after Asha.

Decision made, I lurched to my feet and started running up the cliff toward those that needed my help.

The wind started howling around me as I ran. The air was being torn apart by their warring magic. It surrounded me, making my lungs burn and my heart thunder with fear. Not for the first time, I questioned what the hell I was doing here. I wasn’t meant to be a fighter. A hero. I was only meant to start an effin’ prism. I couldn’t do this. But I had to. For Bish and Kara and the villagers. For Starke. I shut a mental steel door over the fear and continued up the hill.

“Kara, get the villagers out of here,” I screamed to her, waving my arms as I ran toward them. I noticed the morqual out of the corner of my eye. His wings spread wide, he lurched into the air and whirled, dive bombing the villagers tumbling from the wagon. Without slowing down or stopping to think, I pulled my sai and threw my magic, creating an ice barrier between the running villagers and the jet of molten fire targeting their backs.

The morqual’s fire collided with my magic with all the force of an atomic explosion. The wagon, caught in the middle, detonated into the air, flaming shards shooting out with deadly force. But my barrier appeared to hold, keeping the villagers from harm as they ran, following Kara down the other side of the cliff.

I kept moving, straight toward Bish. My lungs were on fire, my skin cut up from the flying splinters, but the amount of fury and magic coiling in my gut gave no heed to my injuries. With all the hate I could muster, I focused my burning magic toward the morqual, shooting a whole arsenal of ice bullets its way. The deadly icicles impacted its chest, tearing through the thick scales and the assault sending the monster careening over the cliff to the rocks below.

I didn’t bother to check to see if I killed it. I didn’t bother to check on the battle below me. Grief and fear made my decisions now. I needed to save Bish.

I dropped to my knees as soon as I reached him, pulling his head into my lap.

“Bish,” I screamed, tugging away the vine still wrapped tight around his neck. His face was ashen, his eyes shut. I pressed two fingers to his neck. No pulse. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart in two.

No, no, no.

The denial screamed in my brain, wiping out every other rational thought. I was not losing Bishop too. I couldn’t. Not this way.

My head and heart were a tangled mess of panic. I needed to do something. I needed to pull magic. Healing magic, but I had no freakin’ way of knowing how to do it. I never healed anyone before. Crap!

Wait. Think, Jette, think. Starke had healed me, right? With blood magic. Yes. He said the runes on my sai could do blood magic.

Without considering the consequences, I drove the sharp end of my sai into the fleshy part of my palm, ignoring the pain. My crimson blood oozing, I wrapped my hand around the handle of my sai and the runes trying to activate them, while the other hand I laid on Bish’s chest.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

Nothing happened.

I shook the sai in my hand as if that would help.

“Please,” I rasped, my voice raw with grief. “Please, save him.”

I waited. Still nothing.

Wait. There had been a word. What had Starke whispered over my shoulder when he healed me.

Heligheas.

I muttered the word.

And just like watching a row of floodlights light up a runway, the runes on my sai came to life. My whole body filled with magic. Powerful magic that zipped through my blood, crackling with ancient power. It swelled and expanded through me with an exhilarating rush, like a prisoner just released after a life sentence. It felt…primordial. Omnipresent. Elemental. Like something no person should ever try to contain or master. It had its own mind. Its own presence. Its own agenda, and right now it was pissed at me for trying to control it. I didn’t care. I focused with all I had, willing it into Bish. Willing it to make his heart beat again. To give him life. I demanded of it as a price for its freedom, and it obeyed.

I sobbed with relief as Bish suddenly bucked and gasped, sucking in air. The gasping escalated into coughing as he finally opened his eyes and stared at me in confusion.

“Bish,” I huffed as I cupped his wrinkled cheek in my hand, tears dripping down my face. “You’re okay.”

“Yes, because of the blood magic. Isn’t it delectable?”

The voice froze me in place. I laid Bish’s head gently on the ground, despite his raspy voice calling my name. I couldn’t respond to him. Asha was willing me to stand and I couldn’t refuse her, no matter how much my brain was yelling at me to resist.

“Look at me, Elemental.”

My body turned, under her control. She floated inches of the ground, her wings beating delicately like a bumblebee. Or a murder hornet more like it.

She smiled, her beauty dazzling and not a hair out of place even though she’d just come from the chaos below. From fighting Starke.

Starke!

“Oh, my son is fine,” she said casually like she could read my mind. She flipped her hand toward the battle below and settled lightly on her feet. “He’s a Ryhill after all. It’ll take more than this little skirmish to take him down.”

I wanted to go to his side. Help him fight. Help keep him safe. I couldn’t do any of that. Asha was pacing in front of me, staring at me like she saw me for the first time.

“You used blood magic,” she sounded in awe of that fact. “I’ve never seen someone take to it so effortlessly.”

“Wasn’t that hard,” I responded, not sure where this was headed. I tried to crane my neck, see if Kara had gotten the villagers to safety and out of her reach, but I couldn’t move an inch. She was oppressively powerful.

“Not that hard?” She asked in disbelief, before cracking up at her own words. Her eyes glowed as she stared at me, their brilliant green dancing with excitement and something else. Delight. It was like she’d just discovered the secrets of the universe. That look scared me to death. “I’ve been going about this all wrong, indeed. I’ve been trying to browbeat you into submission, but you are ripe for the picking, my dear.”

Ripe for the picking?

“Ag mo ordú!” She commanded the spell before I had a chance to put up any sort of defense. It struck me right in the chest and I swear I felt it sink into my skin like water on a dry sponge. The spell’s impact hit me immediately and nausea began to brew in my gut. Her magic revolted me. It felt wrong. Invasive. Corrosive. Like it was rotting me from the inside out.

I doubled over, my muscles spasming involuntarily as I tried to suck in air. To fight against whatever she was doing to me, but I was powerless.

“Don’t fight it, Elemental,” she cooed. “Accept it. Use your blood magic. Let it flow. Let it free. Let it become one with you.”

Pain spread in my chest, like my heart was being ripped apart. I fell to my hands and knees, the agony circulating to every part of my body. Like something at my very center was trying to claw its way out.

She’s killing me!

“Allow it in.”

Her voice was in my head now, stabbing at my brain.

“Don’t fight it. Be one with it.”

I wasn’t sure if the pain was weakening me, or she was becoming stronger, but I did just that. I allowed her magic to overtake me. I allowed the pain eating at my body free reign. And just like that it was over. The pain ebbed and faded away. Replaced by a euphoria that no drug could ever hope to reproduce.

The magic slithering through my veins felt different now. Stronger than anything I’d ever felt. It felt more powerful. More intoxicating. It felt alive.

I pushed myself to my feet, the wind caressing my skin and igniting every nerve ending. I’d never been more self-aware. More in tune with the universe. More divine.

My wrist hummed and I held my hand up to my face, noticing the weird shine to my forearm like there were tiny fireflies squirming underneath the skin. I looked closer, and as I watched a rune carved itself into the skin like I was being marked by some invisible sculptor. There was no pain as the mark appeared. Only astonishment as the rune burned its way deep into my flesh.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Asha’s voice cut through the buzzing in my brain.

“Accept it, Elemental. Join me. The power can be ours to share. Just say the spell. Mo chuid fola.”

Deep down I was aware of what was happening. The blood magic was invading every fiber of my being and I was allowing it. Asha was right. It was beautiful. And at this moment in time, I really didn’t understand Starke’s aversion to it.

“No!”

The growl wormed its way past the warm buzzing in my head as Starke came into focus. The burst of magic he slammed into Asha should have taken her off her feet, but she barely staggered.

“Fight her, Jette,” Starke shouted at me over his shoulder. “Don’t let it take hold.”

Fight it? Why would I fight it? It was beautiful and amazing.

Asha retaliated, her magic burst like a kaleidoscope of color as beautiful as she was. Starke evaded, still yelling at me over his shoulder. My mind was confused. Why was he yelling at me? What did I do wrong this time?

“He’s trying to stop you, Elemental. Stop your power. Don’t let him. Help me destroy him. Mo chuid fola. Say it!”

The words blurred in my head. They didn’t make sense. Destroy Starke? But he was a good guy, right? I couldn’t destroy him because…because? There was a good reason why, but darn if I could think of it right now. My wrist flickered again, and I glanced down. Another rune burned bright, joining the first. I stared in fascination. They were so pretty.

“Elemental, destroy him!”

The words shrieked in my head, jolting my senses. Asha’s fury bounced in my skull, demanding I listen. The blood magic vaulted through my veins, demanding I obey. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the immense power building in me. Power that was mine to control. All I had to do was destroy Starke. Say the words.

“Jette.”

The voice came at me, fighting against the darkness and confusion consuming my soul, fighting its way through like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. The voice was gentle and loving. One I recognized.

“I won’t let it have you, Jette, just as I promised.”

Starke’s voice was like a slap to the face. It clawed its way through the dark magic clouding my brain. Asha’s influence was stripped away, allowing my terror at what was happening back in. Oh my God. I allowed Asha to crawl in my head. I allowed blood magic to sway me. What had I done?

I opened my eyes and gasped, now knowing full well why Asha had lost control of me. What I witnessed left me speechless.

Starke in his usual Fae form was breathtaking. Starke as a Fae god was truly terrifying. Horror and beauty mingling together into one celestial being. I wanted to run. I wanted to fall on my knees and worship him.

Shadows moved about him, gilded with gold like they were shadows of gods. His hair wafted about his head lifted by the power emanating from him. The runes on his arms and body shone brilliantly bright, even through his clothes. So bright it hurt to look at him and I squinted into the light, trying to see.

He was protecting me from Asha. I knew that much. Her attacks bounced harmlessly from the shield he had formed around us as he stood between me and her. With every attack from her, his runes burned brighter, along with the fear in my heart. It was too much. He was using too much blood magic.

He turned to me, his beautiful face overtaken by the obsidian eyes. He was losing himself to the dark magic. I could sense it in my heart. In my very soul. I was losing him. He needed to let go now before it was too late. He was not going to sacrifice himself for me. There was no way in hell I was about to let that happen.

“Starke, stop,” I whispered, holding my hand out to him, pleading with him to let go. My heart shattered in denial as his cold, black eyes locked with mine. His lips tilted for a split second as he growled in a voice I no longer recognized, “I’m sorry, little rabbit.”

I never saw the bolt coming. I heard the woosh moments before it struck me in the chest. It knocked me backwards into the blue expanse of sky as I fell into nothingness, the wind howling in my ears and the ocean rushing up to meet me.

# # #

“She’s waking up.”

“Give her some room.”

“Jette, can you hear me?”

The voices jumbled in my head. I couldn’t tell who they belonged to. And I really didn’t care since the pain in my chest took precedent right now. What happened to me? Why did I feel like I just got run over by a Mack truck? The last thing I remembered was falling and water and…

Starke!

I bolted upright, the pain in my body almost making me blackout as everything came flooding back into my head. My gaze flitted around the worried faces surrounding me. Kara, the old villager lady from the wagon, a bandaged Bishop, a couple of the guards. But not the face I wanted to see. Where was he?

“Starke?” I croaked; my throat still raw from vomiting up the seawater after they’d pulled me out of the ocean. I remembered that much. And almost drowning. How ironic, a water elemental almost drowning. Although the irony was lost on me right now.

“Jette, rest—” Bishop began, but I cut him off. I was desperate to know.

“Tell me, Bish,” I rasped, swallowing the glass in my throat.

Bish’s eyes fell even as he took my hand in his. I vaguely noticed the bandages wrapped around his palms. They looked dirty. At least a couple of days old. How long had I been out?

“He is…he is gone, Jette girl.”

“Gone?” I repeated the word as if I didn’t really understand the concept.

“Gone,” Bishop reiterated. “Taken by the blood magic. By Asha’s control. No one knows for sure. What I am sure about is that the Starke who blew you off that cliff is not the Starke we knew. If it wasn’t for the wolves’ help, none of us would have made it out of there alive.”

The memory of the last time I’d seen him came back with a vengeance. The way he’d looked, so dark and ominous. The way the blood magic had turned him, making him unrecognizable. The way I’d been so utterly and completely terrified. But then the other memories squirmed their way in. The way he smiled at me at that last moment. The way he said he was sorry for what he was about to do. The way he called me ‘little rabbit’, and I knew deep down in my heart that Bishop was wrong.

“No. He’s not gone.” I shook my head, ignoring the jolts of pain. “He’s just lost. We need to find him and bring him back.”

Bishop regarded me with sad eyes. “Do not fool yourself, Jette girl. Do not let your heart rule your head. Your Starke no longer exists. The sooner you realize that, the better. The Starke we escaped was a monster. An unholy being. Something we should be very afraid of. He will be a formidable foe and—”

“No, you’re wrong, Bish,” I interrupted, never so sure of anything in my life. “He is not our enemy. He is still Starke, no matter what you think you saw. And he would never give up on any of us, so I’m sure as heck not about to do the same to him. We don’t need to be afraid of him. The only one who needs to be afraid is Asha, ‘cause I’m about to open up a whole new can of whoop-ass. The Fae queen wants a war? She’s about to get one.”