I had a feeling they didn’t want to run into any Cerixian officials.
Glancing down into the streets occasionally, I found myself smiling more than once. We’d already lost them. “Let’s hope Trap manages to dig into these cults,” I said.
“Nalyon will bitch and cry about it,” Raphael replied.
“He can rot in hell, as far as I’m concerned,” I said.
A wide space opened before us. A public square, with ample green space and plenty of manicured trees and hedges. It was too early for it to be crowded, but there were some Cerixians moving about, most likely headed to work. Like every other world we’d seen, people here had to earn their keep. Nothing was given to them freely.
The green spark crossed the town square, headed farther north. Some of the people below noticed it, but it didn’t remain at the center of their attention for too long, given the monstrous smoke pillar coming up from the library. The alarms had stopped ringing, at least, and my eardrums were beyond thankful.
“It’s getting faster,” Amelia concluded, pointing at the tracking spell.
I teleported everyone across the square and briefly looked back. Cultists could be seen emerging from between the buildings, but they didn’t dare move through the market. They were careful, just as I’d suspected.
“Let’s go. I think we’ve finally lost the maniacs,” I said.
We kept running and jumping, moving across the rooftops of Silvergate. We entered a residential area, with artesian-style fountains adorning the central axis of its boulevards. As the green spark continued its chase, I noticed something that Trap had mentioned earlier.
The water gushed from the fountains—higher than before. It looked like a sudden spurt, a pulse that moved up the boulevard. Then, I saw her. Eira. Running along the sidewalk. The fountains swelled as she passed them by. Trap was right when he said to watch the water.
“Over there,” I whispered, coming to a full stop on the edge of a three-story building.
Varga followed my gaze and narrowed his eyes. “Eira,” he said.
“Look at the fountains, how they’re reacting to her presence…” Amelia murmured.
“I guess we know who Eira’s father is, now,” Raphael replied.
The main question was: where was she going? Was Eira on her way to Inalia, as well? Judging by the tracking spell and Eira’s nearly identical trajectory, the answer had to be yes.
“Keep an eye on her,” I said, and resumed my chase of the green spark.
If my assumption was right, Eira was going to get to Inalia shortly before we did. I wondered what she’d be able to do on her own, before we intervened. Eira was a fighter, and a determined Cerixian on top of that. I was actually looking forward to seeing what strategy she’d employ to save Inalia.
At the same time, I was beyond eager to find Inalia, as well. Something weighed heavily in my stomach at the thought of her in any kind of trouble—like lead pulling me down to the bottom of a dark and cold ocean.
Inalia
I woke up sweating. My clothes were drenched, stuck to my skin, and cold, sending shivers down my spine. I rubbed my face and found loose curls stuck to my forehead. Every cell in my body felt sluggish as I forced myself into an upright position.
I hadn’t dreamed my earlier encounter with Nalyon Martell. My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I was still stuck in this room, with the door locked and iron bars on the windows. My skin felt sore where the needle had pricked it. The back of my head hurt, as if I’d been conked with a hammer, repeatedly. That had to be a side effect of whatever they’d injected me with.
Banging on the door was useless. There were armed guards outside, and they were ordered to keep me in here—that much had been made clear, already. But with no sign of Nalyon here, I knew I still had a chance to maybe get myself out of here, somehow.
“But how?” I asked, my voice low and rusty.
My throat was dry. Someone had left a pitcher filled with water and a glass on a nearby side table. I sniffed it first, worried they might’ve put something in it. Then, I gulped down two full glasses, one after the other, as if I’d spent the last couple of days in the desert. A few minutes passed as I tried to wrap my head around this ill predicament.
I knew I couldn’t try my fire ability with the iron bars. I had no control over my powers whatsoever—I’d spent my whole life suppressing this side of me. What did I expect?
The last thing I needed was to cause enough of a ruckus to get the guards back in here and dose me again with… whatever that sleep toxin was. My movements were slow and clumsy as I got up and paced the room a couple of times. Despair crept through me, threatening to take over and force me out of any control I had left. My blood felt hot as it shot through each vein. My temperature was abnormally high.
I’d been through something similar before, but back then, I’d had the fortune and sense to go to a wide and secluded space, where I could let all the fire out. Here, however, I was stuck between four walls and the slope of a roof, surrounded by flammable materials. If I let loose in this room, the entire neighborhood was at risk of burning down.
“That’s what you get for trying to suppress the fire, Inalia,” I mumbled to myself. “You blow up. You fool.”
I should’ve been more like Eira. I should’ve accepted this supernatural side of me. I should’ve gone with the flow. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had so much trouble controlling my fiery instincts. But what was the point of abusing my hindsight like this? I couldn’t change anything! I’d already chosen this path, and I had to deal with it!
My hands started shaking. The tips of my fingers glowed orange, and I knew…
“Oh, no… Not now. Please, not now. Not in such a public area. Not where everyone can see me!” I croaked, tearing up with fear and frustration.
How was I going to get myself out of this mess?
A thud in the hallway made my head turn. Something happened beyond my door. A grunt and a second thud followed. It sounded like a fight, but the silence that followed didn’t tell me much. The brass doorknob jiggled.
My breath was cut short.
Instinctively, I stepped back, fearing another encounter with Nalyon Martell. Then, the doorknob fell to the floor with an eerie clink. I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word as the door creaked open and—
“Eira?” I heard myself murmur.
Her head poked through. A broad smile adorned her face, and my heart swelled with joy and relief at the sight of her. “There you are,” she said.
“What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t believe it. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe the injection was still affecting me, making me hallucinate all kinds of things, including the prospect of salvation. Just to be sure, I pinched myself. I felt the flesh between my fingers. This is real, Inalia.
“I came to get you out. Obviously,” Eira replied, raising an eyebrow at me.
For a moment, fear got the better of me. “You were there when Nalyon had his goons escort me out of my cell. Where have you been? Why am I here?!”
Eira sighed, then came in and pushed the door behind her. It wouldn’t close anymore, but it didn’t seem to matter. She stayed close enough to see if anyone else would come through the hallway, clearly on edge and eager to get out of here.
“Inalia, I had nothing to do with Nalyon’s plan,” she said. “We can talk about this later. Now, let’s get the hell out of here before he comes back.”
“What if you’re lying? What if you’re actually working for him?”
Where were these questions coming from? My inner self wanted to slap me silly for even asking them out loud. And Eira seemed equally annoyed. “Inalia. Get a grip. It’s me. Eira. Your friend. We might not be as tight as we used to be, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you rot here in Nalyon’s custody. Come on. Let’s. Go!”
She motioned for me to follow her as she went outside. Eira was right. This was the wrong time to ask questions, and I had absolutely no right to doubt
her. Sure, she had her sarcastic jabs always ready to sting me whenever we met, but, in the end, we were friends. We’d grown up together, and we knew things about each other that would’ve gotten us both locked up in an attic by Nalyon Martell. Heck, if Eira had wanted to play it safe and didn’t give a damn about me, she would’ve kept quiet and stayed as far away from me as possible.
Instead, she was here. Setting me free.
I followed her outside and stifled a yelp at the sight of two unconscious soldiers slumped on the floor. Their noses were broken and bleeding—Eira’s signature knock-out move, if I remembered correctly. They were looking at a week’s worth of the most painful sneezing ever. But, then again, they’d chosen to work for Nalyon instead of the Armed Forces, so I could keep my pity for someone who actually deserved it.
Looking around, the rest of the house seemed awfully quiet.
“Those can’t be the only ones guarding this place,” I whispered, as Eira leaned over the open corridor’s railing and glanced down, listening for any sound that might signal additional soldier presence.
“There are more downstairs,” Eira replied.
“Wait, how’d you know to find me here?” I asked, trying to focus on her instead of my burning fingertips. The fire inside me was itching to get out, and I needed something to distract me from it, so it would at least temporarily subside.
“I twisted a few arms here and there,” Eira said, smiling. “Listen, we’ll get out through the attic,” she added, pointing at an open ceiling hatch not far from my room. “It’s our best shot.”
“Then what?” I replied.
“We find a place to hide, at least for a few hours, or a day,” she said. “Word is something serious went down on the Landing Bed, not that long ago. Nalyon Martell got his ass handed to him by a swamp witch.”
“Oh… Okay. Never thought I’d hear that phrase, but okay.”
She chuckled softly. “I know, me neither. I always thought I’d be the one to break him, but I guess the swamp witch got to him first.”
Eira went straight to the attic hatch and pulled a folded ladder down. I didn’t even hear the soldier coming up behind me until Eira’s eyes grew wide.
“Get down!” she hissed.
I got knocked to the side. My shoulder hit the wall, and I dropped to one knee. Eira flipped open a flask she carried on her belt at all times. With wiggling fingers, she pulled a small ball of water out of it, which she threw straight at the soldier. It hit him straight in the forehead, with enough strength to knock him out.
He landed on his back, eyes rolling into his head.
I pushed myself back on both feet, rushed to the ladder, and made my way up. Eira followed. Boots thundered up the stairs as more soldiers came after us.
As soon as we reached the attic, Eira dropped the hatch shut, and I dragged the nearest and heaviest trunk I could find on top of it, to stop anyone else from coming up after us. Rolls of dust rose around us, making me cough.
“I still have some friends in the Armed Forces,” Eira said as she went to the attic window. “A message bird will find me with a safe place for us to hide in.”
“What about Nalyon Martell?” I asked. “He’ll want me back. He knows what I am, and he’ll stop at nothing to get me.”
Eira smirked and pushed open the window. The cool morning air slipped through, and I breathed it all in, thankful to be so close to getting out of here and as far away from Nalyon as possible.
“Don’t worry about Nalyon anymore. The swamp witch isn’t done yet. I hear she’s about to bring the entire Cerixian leadership to a halt,” she said, and turned to face me. “Inalia, we won’t let them win. I serve the empire, I’m loyal, and I work hard, but I won’t let any of its agents deprive me or you of our fundamental freedoms. If Nalyon wants to make money off our backs, he can suck it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “I couldn’t agree more.”
A bump against the attic hatch startled me, prompting me to look down. The guards were now trying to push their way up, but the trunk did a decent job of keeping them down—not for long, though. The harder they rammed their shoulders into it, the higher the hatch cracked open, albeit temporarily. I took a few steps back, wondering how long it would take them before they’d defeat that trunk.
“And here we thought you’d need rescuing.” Taeral’s voice shot through the attic, prompting both Eira and me to jump and turn around.
Sitting in the window frame, with the rest of his crew behind him, was the Fire Star’s crown prince. I didn’t think I’d see that handsome face again, and I sure as hell didn’t imagine my heart thudding so hard at the sight of his amber-colored eyes. His mischievous smile made my stomach flutter like a crazed butterfly.
I exhaled, thrilled to see him and his people again. “Taeral… What a surprise.”
He was just about to say something, when the trunk tumbled backward, and six guards spread through the open hatch.
“Ah, turns out they do need rescuing after all,” Raphael said, then bolted through the window.
I moved back, leaving room for him and the others on their team to handle the guards. Eira and I linked hands, watching as Raphael, Varga, Taeral, Eva, and Amelia kicked the soldiers into a deep state of unconsciousness. Part of me wanted to sing with joy—I wasn’t alone anymore.
My fate wasn’t sealed. Nalyon Martell had no influence on me whatsoever.
I was getting out of here!
Amelia
Disabling Cerixian soldiers was a piece of cake, and I was thankful for that. We had our hands full enough as it was. We didn’t need crazy-powerful locals to deal with, as well.
Inalia was beaming at us, even though she was sweating and shaking like a leaf. Eira, on the other hand, was all frowny and scowling at us: “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be in jail.”
“And you’re supposed to be somewhere in hiding, like Trap told you,” Taeral said.
Eira shrugged. “I couldn’t let Inalia stay in here.”
“Speaking of which, I’d really like to get out,” Inalia said, taking deep breaths to calm herself. The glow of her fingertips didn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Raphael asked, staring at her hands.
I nudged him. “Don’t be rude! There’s nothing wrong with her!”
“Um, actually, I think there is,” Inalia replied, her voice wavering. “I… I can’t exactly control myself anymore. The fire… It’s burning, and it wants to get out.”
Without hesitation, Taeral firmly gripped her shoulders, prompting her to look up at him. “Inalia, you’re safe now. Whatever angst you were feeling, let go of it. Abandon the fear. We’re here. And we won’t let anything happen to you.”
Inalia gave him a soft smile, and I could see the glow dimming in her fingers, her skin regaining its natural, pale hue instead. Taeral clearly had a soothing effect on her, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last.
“Thank you,” Inalia whispered.
Taeral’s gaze softened. “You’re more than welcome.”
“We really need to get out of here,” Raphael warned, and Eira nodded in agreement.
“Nalyon wouldn’t have left just a few guards around,” she said. “More will show up eventually.”
Taeral took Inalia’s hand in his. “Come on, let’s go.”
Once we were all connected through touch, he teleported us back into our dark and dusty attic, where Riza and Herakles were waiting. They were both surrounded by open books and unrolled parchments, their eyes wide as they looked up at us.
“Took you long enough,” Herakles said.
“We ran into some cultists, rescued a damsel… You know, the usual,” Raphael said, making me smile.
Inalia giggled. “That felt weird.”
“What, teleporting?” Herakles asked, and she replied with a nod. “Yeah, you get used to it, after a while.”
“Yeah, right,” Eira said. “Like I could ever get used to f
eeling my whole being disintegrate and reassemble somewhere else.”
We settled around the books, and I used the flashlight function on my tablet, which I placed in the middle on the floor, to give us more light. The attic windows faced north, and it would take a while for the sunlight to make it in here properly.
We brought each other up to speed on everything that had happened, sparing absolutely no detail. Eira told us about her initial bid to flee at Trap’s advice, which quickly turned into an attempt to rescue Inalia. Riza and Herakles described their library incident from beginning to end—the cultists’ knowledge of our techniques was worrisome, to say the least.
“I still can’t wrap my head around the red garnet lenses,” I said. “How the hell did they know?”
“Spies in GASP?” Raphael suggested. “It’s not like there’s swamp witch knowledge lying around here on Cerix. We’ve kept the red garnet lens to ourselves, aware that hostiles outside GASP might find them useful, otherwise.”
The thought made my blood curdle. “That’s just… terrifying.”
“We have to consider it,” Varga said. “Raphael is right. We keep stuff like the invisibility and tracking spells secret. The swamp witches don’t divulge this information to the general public, and the triple tome is under lock and key on Mount Zur. Unless you have other suspicions, I think the existence of cult spies within GASP is perfectly reasonable.”
Gripping my tablet, I was eager to prepare another report for Draven. The possibility of spies was at the top of my list of things to share with him, hoping he’d figure out a way to deal with it from Calliope.
“Who would the spies be, though?” I asked. “Other fae?”
Taeral sighed. “Probably, though I hate to be the one to say it. It could lead to discrimination, and our kind has it bad enough already because of these wretched cults.”
A Shade of Vampire 70: A Breed of Elements Page 7
