Elemental Faith

by L. M. Somerton

  “Get caught in the rain, sir?”

  Evrain scowled at the inane question. “Good guess. I’d like to extend my room booking for two more nights. I’m heading over to Skye for the day and may not be back this evening, but I want to leave our luggage here and come back the following day. Would that be okay?”

  “Let me just check the booking system.” After tapping a few keys and peering at his computer screen the receptionist smiled. “That will be fine. Would you like the room serviced, sir?”

  “No, we’ve hardly used anything, so there’s no need.” He didn’t want anyone poking around their stuff unnecessarily. He intended to leave as soon as he’d dried off and changed his clothes. In his heart he knew that Dominic was long gone. How it could have happened, he had no idea. Dominic had been taken from right next to him, from their bed, and he hadn’t heard a thing. As the elevator took him to the second floor, he allowed himself a sigh of disgust. Despite his vow to keep Dominic safe, he had been caught unprepared. He’d failed, though he got the feeling that he could have chained Dominic to the bed and he still would have disappeared. Forces were in play that were far more powerful than Evrain could ever hope to be. The best he could do would be to face whatever trial was planned as fast as possible in the hope that it would bring Dominic back to him.

  Evrain took a quick shower then packed a small rucksack with a change of clothes for Dominic in case he needed them and a couple of bottles of water. He intended to travel light and move fast. He texted Gregory, giving him a very brief update on developments. His phone rang seconds after the message was delivered.

  “What the heck time is it there? I didn’t mean to wake you,” Evrain said.

  “My lack of sleep is hardly important.” Gregory sounded grumpy. “Things are moving fast. Be careful, Evrain. Guard your temper, stay calm. Provoking you is part of the test.”

  “I can’t reach my power at the moment. How the hell am I going to be able to do anything useful?”

  “It will return, I’m sure. They’ve stolen the love of your life—they don’t want you blazing a trail across Scotland with your warlock histrionics. This is about you and you alone, not exposing our kind to the rest of the world.”

  “I hope you’re right. It’s not a comfortable feeling.”

  “Focus on the practical things you need to do—getting from the hotel to the location on Skye. It’s rough terrain. You won’t be able to get very close in the car, even with a four-wheel drive, so be prepared to hike. The isolation is deliberate, not only for privacy but because there will be limited resources on hand to help you. Dominic won’t be harmed, Evrain. They need him. Taking him this early ensures your compliance.”

  “It’s like somebody has torn a hole in my heart… It hurts.”

  “Your souls are intertwined. You need each other and separation is always difficult.”

  “I need to go.”

  “I’ve got faith in you, Evrain. We both do. Coryn sends his love too. You’ll get through this, I know you will. You’re stronger than you know and I’m not just talking about your power. Call me as soon as you can.”

  “I will.” Evrain ended the call with some reluctance. Even so far away, Gregory provided much-needed support. Alone, Evrain felt uncertain and ill-prepared. After one last look around the room, he left, skirting the edge of reception to avoid conversation with anyone. Once in the car, he programmed the GPS with the coordinates Gregory had given him before the trip then, gripping the steering wheel far too hard, headed toward the Skye Bridge.

  Evrain drove on autopilot, paying just enough attention in the slippery conditions to avoid an accident. The driving rain continued as if there were magnetic attraction between the car and the clouds. In the rear-view mirror, the sky was clear blue. In the distance, the black, towering peaks of cumulonimbus threatened a storm of epic proportions. Unpredictable weather wasn’t unusual in Scotland so no one would bat an eyelid at the sudden changes happening around them, they’d just shrug and either put on or remove their raincoats according to need.

  Grateful that the roads were quiet at such an early hour, Evrain reached the Skye Bridge in good time. He paid the toll then crossed, not even glancing at the waters of Loch Alsh. In the distance the Cuillins loomed, dark and foreboding, wreathed in a mantle of cloud, their jagged tips hidden from view. Only the hardiest hikers would be out and about in such appalling weather—Skye’s mountains were not forgiving to unprepared amateurs. Dominic’s research had revealed that several people had died amid the sheer slopes and crevasses over the years. Evrain repressed a shudder, wondering how many of those fatalities had been warlocks attempting the test. Gregory had refused to tell him how many of their number had failed and perhaps it was better not to know.

  After narrowly avoiding a sodden sheep ambling across the winding road, Evrain gave himself a shake. He didn’t want to run the car into a ditch and not even make it to the grid reference he’d been given. He wouldn’t be much use to Dominic if he was trying to extract himself from the mangled wreckage of a car crash.

  He followed the satnav until tarmac turned to gravel and the final bit of furrowed track ended at the listing, rusted gates of what appeared to be an abandoned quarry. He pulled the car over to one side so that it was partially hidden behind a stand of thick gorse bushes, then turned off the ignition. Listening to the rain pounding on the windscreen got him nowhere, so he pushed his seat back to give himself room to change into sturdier boots than those he was wearing. He wriggled into his waterproof coat, deliberately chosen for its dark gray color. With his black cargoes, his outfit should help him merge with the landscape, which was a blur of slate and granite. There was no phone signal, yet the route-finding app worked, showing him the staccato line of a footpath that wound around the back of the quarry into the mountains. Leaving everything but his phone in the car, Evrain ventured into the rain. Wind sliced through him, dagger-edged and frigid. He tightened the toggles on his hood and snapped shut the collar that came up high enough to cover his mouth. Water beaded on his lashes and the few strands of hair not protected by his hood were instantly plastered to his face. He flexed his fingers, wishing he’d remembered to bring gloves.

  If he’d thought it would do any good, Evrain might have screamed and shouted but he needed every breath for the scramble up the side of an uncooperative mountain. He had to cross one ridge, traverse the valley then find a route through what appeared to be sheer rock. The footpath petered out after a mile or so, by which time his knees were already battered from crawling over the shifting scree. The mountain seemed determined that he should take two steps back for every one forward. There was little grip and his fingertips were raw from grasping at sharp rocks. He fell several times, cursing under his breath at each newly acquired bruise and scrape.

  It had been six hours since he’d discovered Dominic’s disappearance. In that time the forces of nature had conspired to turn him into an exhausted, battered shell. Resting for a moment at the side of a tarn, its ink-black waters churning, he reached for his power once more. To his amazement, the connection had returned and relief overwhelmed him. He dropped to his knees with a sob, dragging in deep, ragged breaths. The thread of energy that connected him to Dominic was there, still strong, meaning Dominic was alive and well. Though Evrain knew deep down that Dominic wouldn’t be harmed, he needed the reassurance of certainty.

  With fresh determination, he pushed on. Scree gave way to jagged, ice-smooth rock, slick with rain. Coarse vegetation ripped at his trousers, finding skin. He brushed water from the screen of his phone, praying it wouldn’t give up on him. The map showed ever narrowing contours, impossible terrain and no way across the next range without a ton of mountain climbing equipment. He squinted into the rain, looking for any clue to where he could go next, but he was faced with sheer rock. Scrambling closer, he skirted massive fallen boulders to take shelter beneath a tangled thorn bush contorted into a twisted shape by the wind. He leaned against its trunk, panting, staring at t
he map on his phone. Then the screen went blank.

  “Fuck!” Shaking it proved fruitless, so he shoved it in his coat pocket. “Think, you idiot. Think.” The grid reference of his final destination seemed to be inside the mountain, which made no sense at all. Gregory had done his test in the open air so Evrain had assumed his would be the same. He was well away from prying eyes—even the sheep steered clear of this inhospitable area. Evrain extended his senses, testing the structure of the rock. He waggled his fingers, trying to ease their cold stiffness, then pushed with a gesture toward the mountain. It seemed solid, no caves or concealed gorges. The cold was dulling his senses so he drew a little stored warmth from the earth.

  “The quarry… Perhaps it’s not a quarry at all, but a mine!” Talking out loud helped clear his thoughts. The excavated ground he had passed through after leaving the car could easily have been the head of a mine. He directed his power at the earth in a different direction, this time probing beneath his feet. He closed his eyes as an image built of passages and larger open spaces. “Yes! It is a mine. But how do I get down there?” He didn’t want to go all the way back to where he’d started. The first two access shafts he identified had been filled in with loose rock and boulders then capped with concrete. With his senses directed below ground, he lost his footing and tripped over a stray branch. He decided sitting was safer. He was already wet through, so a bit more water wouldn’t make much difference. Cross-legged on the ground, he closed his eyes and let his senses wander, tracing the myriad dead ends beneath the earth. He sought traces of metal, hoping to locate a ladder to the surface. The iron of an abandoned tool glowed bright in his mind, small dots could be nails or sheared bolts. The first ladder he found reached only halfway to the surface before meeting a blockage while the second had him crying out his success. He had no idea whether it would be sound enough to use, but if his elemental sight was true, the ladder should grant unimpeded access to the mine workings.

  He scrambled to his feet, maintaining a view of the ladder’s rough location. It wasn’t that far away but he’d never have found it by accident. Concealed beneath vengeful brambles, the shaft was covered by a rusted grid, which lifted clear with an angry, grinding protest. Evrain sucked on a deep scratch on his hand and stared into the darkness. The part of the ladder he could see was red with rust, some of the rungs missing. It was pitch black and he needed light. He couldn’t create fire from nothing so he searched for luminescent material, finding some lichens with potential. He encouraged them to glow, sending silent thanks as a dim light illuminated the shaft.

  He had no more reason to delay so he set boot to rung and began a descent that made his heart pound, afraid that at any moment he would be sent hurtling to a nasty end. His luck held and he breathed a sigh of relief when he reached solid ground. There was barely enough light to see by so he groped his way along the passages, finding that only one route remained clear. Traces of power suggested another warlock had passed this way and Evrain couldn’t avoid the feeling that he was being herded in a direction of someone else’s choosing. If it took him to Dominic, he didn’t care.

  He couldn’t detect the signature of human warmth but another warlock could easily shield people with a simple manipulation of the air. All Evrain could do was follow the path. He guessed more than an hour passed before he felt the whisper of wind on his face and natural light overtook luminescence. He walked into a boulder-strewn clearing surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs but open to the sky. Over time the roof of a mined cavern must have collapsed, leaving behind a landscape that could have been on another planet. In its center, perhaps two hundred yards from where Evrain stood, Dominic lay unmoving on a rock slab, the stone manipulated to form bonds over his wrists and ankles, holding him in place. Evrain ran to his side, overwhelmed by relief that he’d found him but fearing that he’d been hurt. Dominic wasn’t even wet. He was deeply unconscious and protected by a thickened blanket of air.

  “Evrain Brookes, welcome to your testing.” A deep voice echoed around the hollow. Evrain’s eyes were drawn to the rim of the cavern where a hooded figure stood near the edge. The light was behind him, creating a glowing halo around a dark shape. “I hope you’re familiar with fairy tales because I’ve taken my inspiration for your trial from some of them. Your partner is very beautiful, isn’t he? A real sleeping beauty.”

  Evrain shuddered, casting anxious glances around him.

  “Don’t be concerned—he is well, and will remain so if you succeed. If you do not…he won’t suffer.”

  “Leave him alone… It’s me you’re testing.” Evrain’s voice carried without him needing to shout. The acoustics of the exposed cave funneled sound.

  “It is, and it’s time to begin. I suggest you focus.” The mysterious warlock stepped out of sight. Evrain guessed he couldn’t be far away, presumably with his partner, but it didn’t matter. With Dominic unconscious, the playing field was set and Evrain would have to make the best of it.

  Chapter Six

  Evrain reached for Dominic’s arm, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin, but as he did, thorn bushes sprang from the earth. He had to move back or be impaled by the three-inch spikes that covered every gnarled stem. Like Triffids on steroids, the bushes grew until the barrier towered above Evrain’s head. They surrounded him, pressing closer and closer until he had no room to move. Thorns penetrated his clothing, piercing skin. It took the pain to spark him into action. He wouldn’t be any help to Dominic if he turned into a pin cushion.

  Summoning his power, Evrain felt beneath the earth, seeking out the roots of the shrubs. There was too much moisture stored in the stems to stop their growth that way, he had to resort to more extreme measures. He manipulated the structure of the earth, binding granules together, crushing the roots. Earth wasn’t his strongest element but Gregory had made him practice with it the most. Never had Evrain been more grateful for his godfather’s dogged persistence in training him, even when he protested like a spoiled brat. He wondered how much of that persistence had come from knowing about the test to come and how it might play on Evrain’s weakness. He focused, blanking all other thoughts to concentrate on the minerals beneath his feet. A thorn stabbed into his upper arm, driving deep, and for a few seconds he thought he’d failed. He applied more pressure, shifting the earth to his will, pressing the roots to pulp. He raised an arm to protect his eyes. A barb scraped his cheek then slowed, and gradually withdrew. He suppressed a yell as the spike in his arm pulled free, taking ragged breaths in an attempt to calm his racing heart. That had been far too close for comfort—he needed to anticipate better, react quicker. He had been distracted by his fear for Dominic. It had made him sluggish. He couldn’t afford to let it happen again. He suspected the warlock testing him would have no compassion for weakness born out of love.

  Within five minutes it was as if the thorn bushes had never existed. Evrain took a single step toward Dominic and the heavens opened, dousing him not with rain but hail. Using a trick from his nemesis, Evrain thickened the air over his head, gaining some protection from the beating he was taking, until the wind changed direction, hurling pea size pellets of ice into his face. He closed his eyes, grasping with his mind for the threads of the wind, trying to wrest control from the other warlock. To his shame, he channeled, hoping that Dominic wouldn’t be able to feel what he was doing. He needed fine control for what he was trying to achieve, not the wild flashes of power that inevitably resulted when he didn’t use Dominic as his conduit.

  A distant rumbling registered and he realized that the hail had been a distraction. A painful, annoying one but hardly life threatening. He should have grasped that the test was nowhere near severe enough and now he had given the other warlock time to activate his next surprise. The rumbling grew to a thunderous roar then, from behind him, water cascaded over the rim of the crater. The waterfall knocked Evrain from his feet, sweeping him thirty yards or more. His shoulder glanced against a boulder and he gasped as pounding water blinded him.
It was freezing, chilling Evrain to the bone. He struggled to rise, falling twice as water swirled around his knees, rising to thigh level in less than a minute. He had to duck beneath the flood in order to push up with his hands and surfaced, spluttering, as he surged to his feet.

  He couldn’t sense the source of the water to stop it, so the only course of action he could think of was to give it somewhere else to go. He had never forced the full extent of his power into the ground and feared that he might lose consciousness if he did, but he could see no other way. Cursing, he flexed his frozen fingers and brought his will to bear on the earth, rending it apart. A jagged crack opened at his feet, zigzagging its way across the floor of the hollow. The noise of falling water was overtaken by the scream of the earth as it wrenched open, exposing a deep crevasse. Water poured into the hole, disappearing into the depths of the earth, draining away to leave a slick layer of mud.

  Evrain dropped to his knees, his vision swimming. There were no pretty stars or tweeting birds flying in front of his eyes, just a dark red haze that resembled blood-infused fog. He vomited, the acid contents of his stomach mixing with the mud.

  “Fuck.” He spat, attempting to clear the foul taste from his mouth. It was a small mercy that Dominic was unconscious and unable to feel the full force of the channeling Evrain had had to employ. The pain must have been extreme.

  Evrain crawled toward Dominic’s rock bed—it was beginning to resemble a sacrificial altar in his head. There was no change in his condition. He looked serene, peaceful and far too young. Evrain whimpered, missing the strength Dominic lent him. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how much he relied on Dominic’s quiet certainty in his abilities. It was selfish to want him awake, to give encouragement in the calm, low voice he always used when Evrain was emotional, or strung-out on power.