by Wendy Knight
She hadn’t seen a battle yet — not a real one. When she was fourteen, they would let her out. Her and Beck both. Out to fight the Chaos. And the rogue Elementals.
She wasn’t sure what the Chaos actually were. Monsters, probably, with Elemental powers. No one knew, as far as she’d been taught. Either way, she wanted to be ready. If she had to go into battle, she wasn’t going to be weak.
She wanted to be the strongest of all. Then no one could hurt her, and no one would want to get rid of her.
To Beck, their midnight outings were fun. He loved being an Elemental. He loved controlling the water and learning how much he was capable of. It was a game to him.
To Adara, it was everything. But he could never know that.
“This is good,” Beck stopped, breathing hard, but Adara was barely winded. He might be faster, but she had more endurance.
It was the same place they’d stopped the night before. She could see the remnants of their fire, and her fingers itched to bring it to life. Beck stepped back, watching her, idly pulling water droplets out of the river behind them to rain around him. “Start it up.”
He said that every night.
She never could.
“You have to get really angry,” Beck added when she closed her eyes. “Think about that time I stole all your peas at lunch.”
She frowned, eyes still closed. She really liked peas. “Did you do that on purpose so I could use it to start fires?”
She could hear the laughter in his voice. “Of course not.”
Liar.
Peas, though, despite how much she loved them, were not enough to fuel the fire. She tried, concentrating hard, searching for something that felt like fire, but came up empty.
The only thing she had was locked up tight where she wouldn’t go because it hurt too much.
“It’s okay.”
When Adara opened her eyes, Beck stood in front of her, blue eyes worried. He tried to hide it, but she could see it anyway.
She always had.
“We’ll get it. Want to try again?”
She sighed, running a hand through her red and orange curls. Her fingers tangled and she absently tried to free them. “I guess let’s just play. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
Beck nodded, rolling his eyes when she continued to fight with her hair. “Hold still. Don’t move your fingers.”
She froze, holding her breath as he reached for her, his warm hand so close to her face she could feel the heat radiating from him—but one touch would burn like a thousand flames. Anyone else, she would have dodged away, but not Beck.
She trusted Beck.
Even when his fingers barely brushed hers, and the pain shot through both their hands, he continued untangling. “You should braid this mess if you’re going to go tumbling through the weeds,” he said, lips twitching in concentration.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He was beautiful, so close. His skin was pale, his eyes were huge, ringed by lashes so thick and so long he looked like he had mascara on. Of all the water Elementals, he was the only one with the shock of blue running through his white, white hair. Beck was her exact same height, but only since the growth spurt. Before that, she’d been taller and she’d enjoyed it immensely.
She was still waiting for her growth spurt.
“Got it. Ready?”
He moved away and the space around her was cold, despite the warmth of the night. She nodded.
“Okay. Let’s start this thing.” He kicked toward the remnants of their fire from the night before. “Did you bring a lighter?”
Adara hesitated. She’d purposely not brought a lighter, hoping she’d have more motivation to start the fire on her own. “Uh...”
Shaking his head, a small smile playing around his lips, Beck pulled a lighter out of his back pocket. “What would you do without me?”
“Get in trouble a lot less probably,” she said aloud, but in her head, she knew. Without Beck, she would be lost.
“A lot less fun is what you’d have,” Beck muttered, stacking dry, dead sticks in the pit. All it would take was a little bit and she could grow it.
Hopefully.
He tossed her his lighter and stood back, a ridiculous grin across his face. “Get to it, Sparky.”
Adara rolled her eyes, flicking the lighter open. The flame waved in front of her, beckoning, warm and welcome and familiar. “Hello, little friend,” she whispered, blushing when she realized she’d said it aloud and Beck had heard her.
He said nothing though, just watched patiently. Adara raised her hand above the lighter. She could feel the exact moment she caught it — when she had control of the tiny flame. It was like there was an invisible connection from her hand to the fire, one she couldn’t see but could definitely feel. Using that line, she pushed the flame from the lighter to the sticks, spreading her hands as she did so. The fire lit and grew; the wider she spread her hands, the bigger it got.
“Okay, Sparky. I think that’s sufficient.” Laughing, Beck broke her trance, taking the lighter back and shoving it in his pocket. “My turn.”
He turned to the water, pulling it toward him. Because there was such an ample supply — the river was huge and swift, at least thirty feet across — he had a lot to work with. It rose above, hovering in the air in a giant wave, waiting for his command. Waiting to fall.
“Don’t put out my fire,” Adara hissed as droplets hit her flames and sizzled. She spread her hands again, raising the fire, making it bigger so that it rivaled his wave, evaporating the droplets before they could hit.
Fire was a powerful element, as long as it was big. When it was a tiny bonfire, all the other elements could put it out. That was why the first spell Adara had fought to master had been to grow her flames.
To make them more formidable.
To make her more formidable.
Beck laughed, raising his wave higher, pulling more of the river toward him, until the water towered above them both, quivering in the light from Adara’s fire.
She spread her hands again, and her fire roared, growing in height and speed. Devouring the ground beneath it and the air above it. She could feel the heat reaching for her, singeing her hair and eyebrows, but she didn’t feel the pain of it.
Beck did. He yelped, letting the wave crash thunderously back into the river, and dove away. “Adara!”
She pressed her hands closer together, bringing the fire back under control. The ground around them was black and burned.
Everything around her, charred.
Except her.
“You were standing in the fire—” Beck breathed the same time she realized it. “Are you hurt?”
Adara shook her head. “No.” Not a scratch or a burn on her. Even her hair — nothing.
“That’s like a level sixteen spell, Sparky. How’d you learn that?” Even though he didn’t touch her, Beck’s blue, blue eyes scanned every inch of exposed skin, his dark eyebrows creased with worry. “Do you know how dumb it is to try spells like that on your own?”
She waved him away. “I didn’t learn it. It just happened. I was trying to beat your wave.”
He sat back, his lips twitched to the side while he regarded her. “Well, that was rude.”
She laughed. “Sorry?”
“You bet you are. Teach me what you did. I want to try it with the water.”
“I don’t know what I did.” She hesitated, pulling the fire toward her again. Beck backed up, watching closely, mirroring her movements with the river water. “I just—I just kept spreading it and didn’t realize it had spread to me.”
Again, she felt the heat, and when she pulled her gaze from the wave Beck had created, she realized that all around her, in towering walls, was fire.
She stood in the center.
Beyond, there was a crash and a strangled scream and water washed over her, extinguishing the flames and drenching everything in its path. Adara coughed and choked, scrubbing water from her eyes and struggling to
see.
Beck was gone.
She turned in a wild circle, searching the trees for Beck, but it was so dark.
“Beck!” she screamed. “Beck!”
She couldn’t see anything. She ran to the river’s edge, searching the turmoil beyond, but couldn’t see him. If he’d gotten pulled out—
He was a good swimmer. He was learning how to control the water, but he was only twelve. He couldn’t save himself from something that powerful. Not yet.
“Beck!” she screamed again and again, running through the trees. He could have been standing right next to her for how far she could see in the dark. She needed fire, but he’d taken the lighter. She had no way to see him.
There was a weak cry, from somewhere to her left. It was Beck, she was sure of it. Racing back the way she’d come, her eyes straining through the darkness, she searched, sobbing and screaming. But she couldn’t see.
“I need light,” she sobbed aloud. Beck, why did you take your stupid lighter?
Exhausted, she stumbled to a stop, turning again in a circle. Now, not only could she not find Beck, but she was lost and completely turned around. It sounded like... things... were running through the forest toward her. Things she couldn’t see.
Chaos.
What if they found her? She couldn’t fight them. She didn’t even know which way the academy was to run for help.
What if they found Beck?
Panic swallowed her. Panic and desperation and cold, cold fear. She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let them get to Beck.
She couldn’t.
Suddenly, her hand lit in flames like a torch, but there was no pain. She felt heat, but that was all. It dried her clothes and her hair but didn’t hurt.
And she could see.
“Beck!” Adara raised her hand high, searching the shadows. Looking for bright white hair.
“Adara, over here.”
That was not Beck’s voice.
She ran anyway, holding her hand in front of her, following the sounds that had scared her so much before. Now, she had fire. Now, she could fight back.
She could protect Beck.
But he didn’t need protecting. He was sitting up, leaning against a log coughing while a soaked Ms. Aquis pounded him on the back. Mr. Galvan stood next to them, but they were all watching her.
“Beck!” she sobbed, rushing forward. He gave her a weak smile.
“You two are in big trouble,” Ms. Aquis said.
Adara skidded to a halt, the fire dying in her hand, but not gone completely.
“Sneaking out of the academy, practicing spells far beyond your abilities? You’re not even supposed to attempt spells together, especially a water Elemental and a fire Elemental. Do you know what he could do to you, Adara? And Beck, you could have been killed. If we hadn’t been out here—” Her hand waved in front of Beck’s mouth, drawing the water from his lungs.
“It was my fault.” Adara spoke, trying to sound brave, but it was barely above a whisper. “Don’t blame Beck.”
“No—no—” Beck gasped. “Mine.”
Adara shook her head. “I wanted to practice. I wanted to be strong. I did this spell I didn’t know I knew how to do, and Beck was just trying—”
“We saw, Adara.”
Mr. Galvan was Adara’s very favorite grown-up in the whole academy — the whole world, actually. She’d never known her real father, but her heart had chosen Mr. Galvan, with his flaming red hair and kind brown eyes, as her stand-in. To hear the disappointment in his voice was too much.
“I’m sorry. I thought if I was as strong as Beck, you wouldn’t send me away.”
Beck’s eyes widened and both adults sucked in a breath. “If—if you send her away, I’m—I’m going t-too.” Beck choked.
Mr. Galvan laid a hesitant hand on Adara’s shoulder and she cringed under the touch. “Never, no matter how strong you are or how weak you are, will we send you away.”
Adara swallowed. “But if I’m stronger—”
“Then you’re stronger, and when you go to fight, we will be grateful for that strength. But even if you could barely manage a spark, you still have a place here. Always.”
“Me?” Beck asked weakly.
“Both of you,” Ms. Aquis said. “Both of you. Let’s get you inside and warmed up.”
Wordlessly, Adara raised the flame in her hand until it was bigger than her head and held it toward Beck and Ms. Aquis. They shied away, as water Elementals were wont to do, but the water dissipated, leaving them both dry, although still exhausted.
“Where’d you get that?” Beck asked, struggling to his feet. “I drowned your bonfire.”
“She created it,” Mr. Galvan said. “When she knew you needed her.”
“I heard things coming,” Adara said, following Mr. Galvan through the darkness, watching the shadows run from her flames. “They were going to get Beck.”
“Indeed they were,” Ms. Aquis agreed. “We were those things.”
“You knew we were in trouble? We’re so far away from the school.”
Mr. Galvan risked a glance over his shoulder and Ms. Aquis sighed.
“Fine.”
Mr. Galvan smiled. “We send teachers after you every night. You’re never alone out here. Tonight it happened to be our turn.”
Adara’s steps failed and Beck nearly ran into the back of her. “What?” they both squeaked.
Ms. Aquis laughed. “Do you honestly think you’re the only students we’ve ever had who sneak out of the academy?”
Actually, yes. Yes, that was exactly what they had thought.
“Although you are the first two we’ve ever had who sneak out to practice.” Mr. Galvan winked at Adara over his shoulder. “For that, we are at once grateful and horrified.”
“You know it’s not safe to practice these spells on your own. However...” Ms. Aquis trailed off. “Adara, your surround spell was flawless. I’ve never seen a student pull that off without months of training first. I want to move you up to the level fourteens this coming year.”
“Away from Beck?” Horror tore at her throat.
“She’s not ready to fight yet,” Beck objected fiercely, triggering another coughing fit.
“No, no. No fighting. And you don’t train with Beck anyway, Adara. You train with other Pyras. All your free time would still be yours.” Ms. Aquis and Mr. Galvan shared another long glance, seeming to have an entire conversation in their heads. “Furthermore, if you will agree to stop sneaking out at night, we will give you the code to the courtyard for your practices.”
The courtyard was only used for special occasions and assemblies. Students weren’t allowed in there unaccompanied.
Beck grinned, raising his fist. Adara raised hers to meet his, stopping just centimeters from his skin.
“And you started a fire. All it took was me nearly drowning myself.”
CHAPTER 3
FIVE years later
Beck watched the love of his life waft through the halls like she was actually the living embodiment of fire. Her hair seemed to have a mind of its own, tumbling down her back, curling and chaotic. The school wasn’t huge. There were maybe 150 students, total — eight of whom lived there full-time — but every one of them watched her like they’d never seen her before. She was flawless, beautiful, hypnotic, deadly.
Just like the fire she controlled.
There were other fire Elementals at the school. Fewer than the other elements, but she wasn’t alone. Of course, she was the only Firestarter, and that might have been what fascinated some of the others, but mostly, it was her stop-your-heart-in-your-chest, mind-numbing beauty.
And she was his.
She’d always been his. From the time they’d been five, she’d been his.
And he was about to let her go.
“Adara, can I talk to you?”
She froze in front of him, her hair curling around her face and everything in him longed to push it away, to brush his knuckles against her
cheekbone, to trace her skin with his fingertips.
To touch her lips with his lips.
“I was just heading to lunch...” she said slowly. “Are we not doing that today?”
“Yeah. In a minute. But this can’t wait.”
She knew. He could see it in her face — she knew what was coming, but she nodded. “Sure. Lead on, Teardrop.”
He hated that nickname — which was why she insisted on calling him that. After this, it would be far too fitting.
He ducked into an empty classroom, away from prying eyes. The teachers seemed to be everywhere, even when he couldn’t see them, and they had eyes and ears in the least expected places. But it was freezing outside, and she didn’t do well in the cold.
Well, the cold didn’t do well around her.
But it exhausted her, the effort to survive in it. It was hard on all of them, actually. He moved more slowly. Air Elementals struggled with it, as well. Earth wasn’t affected as much, but not one Earth Elemental that Beck knew was fond of it.
Shutting the door behind him, he turned to face her. “We—”
She was biting the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Don’t do this,” she whispered.
He knew all her insecurities. He knew how afraid she was of being left behind. Of being unwanted. Of not being good enough. It was the reason she’d pushed herself so hard — it was the reason a Fire element, the weakest of them all, was the most powerful in the school. It was the reason she still struggled with food and the reason she fought like a banshee when they went out on patrols. It was the reason she never messed up, never said the wrong thing, and never let her guard down.
He knew how much this was going to hurt her, and it killed him.
But he had to.
For her.
“I’m sorry, Adara. I can’t do this to you anymore.”
She didn’t cry. Not once in the twelve years that he’d known her had he seen her cry. She only shook her head again.
He reached for her, but stopped just short of her touch. “I love you more than life, Adara. You know that. You have to know that,” he begged. “Please, please know that.”
