Exile in the Water Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 3)

by Cassandra Gannon

  “I don’t think you’re coming with me this trip.” He whispered.

  “But I want to. Please. Don’t leave me here alone.”

  Hope was terrified at being abandoned and Oberon knew it. His eyes were gentle. “You’re not alone.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m leaving you with our family. With your Match. I saw him. Just now. I picked him out for you myself.”

  He was delirious. “Thank you, Grandfather, but I don’t actually have a Match.” She corrected softly.

  This time his grin was smug. “Not yet. But he’s there. You can save him. You can do anything. You’re a Fire Phase. Remember that.”

  No one had ever needed Hope, but that mistake seemed so trivial compared to the rest of his words. “I’m a Fire Phase.” She agreed, her heart swelling at his praise. “I will never forget that. I promise.”

  “Good girl.” His eyes drifted shut. “You’ll like him, baby. You always did vote for the monsters at the movies. Always did think they just needed love. Well, this one’s your monster. He’s waiting for you to set him free.”

  “My monster?” She repeated blankly.

  “He has a good soul, just like you.” Oberon snorted at some joke only he understood. “He just… needs some help finding it…” He trailed off with a contented sigh, only to open his eyes again and look at her intently. “You take care of Teja and the others.” Urgency entered his voice. “You take care of them for me.”

  He’d gotten that mixed up. The Fire Phases took care of her. “I will.” She said anyway, just to appease him. If she had any control over her powers at all, she’d use them to protect her family.

  He was fading now. “Promise me something else, my star.”

  “Of course. Anything.” She’d do anything in the world for this man.

  “Remember rule one.”

  Her eyebrows compressed. “What…? Grandfather? Grandfather!”

  But Oberon was already gone, off on some new adventure.

  …And Hope was left behind.

  Chapter One

  Two Years Later

  I had cast off all feeling, subdued all anguish to riot in the excess of my despair.

  Evil thenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no choice but to adapt

  my nature to an element I had willingly chosen.

  Mary Shelley- “Frankenstein”

  “They won’t do.” Kingu glared over at Zakkery, of the Smoke House. “None of them are acceptable.” He turned and stalked away from the latest row of stunning woman that the Phase had assembled for him, shaking his head in disgust at how tedious this was becoming.

  Gods but he grew sick of Zakkery’s total incompetence. He should have known that this was beyond the capabilities of an Elemental. The entire species had the collective brainpower of a chicken. Was it really so difficult to find the one small thing he’d asked for? So perplexing a challenge, even for Zakkery’s pathetic mind?

  All he wanted was a simple, solitary woman. Just one. He hadn’t even specified a species, for fuck’s sake. And the Smoke Phase still couldn’t manage to get it right. Idiot. Once he regained his full powers, Kingu should eradicate this entire realm and put all the Elementals out of their misery, once and for all.

  “Come on!” Zakkery marched after him, his face set in lines of frustration. “What the hell’s wrong with this batch, huh?” He waved a hand at the cadre of supermodels. “According to you, that last six were all unworthy because they were –Let’s see,“ he began checking off Kingu’s previous complaints, “boring, stupid, stupid and boring, too shrill, too blonde --Gaia knows you hate blondes-- and what else?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh wait, I remember: Too thin.” He ran hand through his dark hair. “Well, this group is none of those things. I made sure of it. So why can’t you just pick one of these girls and we get this over with?”

  Kingu scowled over at the women and then down at Zakkery. “They’re too pretty.” He declared flatly.

  “What? How can they be too pretty?! How is that even a criteria, now?”

  “Because I just made it one, Elemental.” Kingu loomed over him, not the least bit put-out by Zakkery’s infuriated glare. After so many centuries of being a slave to one of the cruelest, most terrifying beings in creation, some insignificant Phase getting pissy with him didn’t even register. “You and I have a deal. I get a woman of my choosing and you get Kay’s necklace. Are you thinking to change that?”

  Now that his mother was in the coma, only Kingu could remove the pendant from her throat and he didn’t plan on doing that without some quid pro quo. The necklace was just a thin, straight hunk of metal decorated with a barcode of black enamel lines. To most people, it was simply a piece of not-so-attractive jewelry. And it was ugly. But it was also imbued with some serious cosmic powers. In the right hands, the necklace could inflict damage.

  And Kingu had seen enough apocalypses to know what “damage” really meant.

  He had no idea what Zakkery wanted with the pendant specifically, but it didn’t seem worth asking him about the details. The jackass would probably spend several hours explaining them all and none of it would be true anyway.

  Honestly, Kingu couldn’t have cared less about the Phases and their petty plots and schemes. Zakkery was undoubtedly working with someone and they were undoubtedly plotting to attack their enemies with the necklace, but what possible difference did it make which Phases killed the others? They were all equally useless. Kingu might as well take sides in a war between grasshoppers.

  Elementals were beneath his notice.

  “I know what the deal is and I’m not trying to change anything, but you’re being…”

  Kingu cut off Zakkery’s complaint. “Good. Because, until I get my woman, you get nothing from me. I’m immortal. I have time for generations of females to be born and for me to look them over, if that’s the way you want to play it. But, I get the feeling you’re in a bit more of a hurry.”

  “So what the hell do you want me to do, then?” Zakkery demanded. “Bring you every woman in the universe who isn’t pretty?”

  Perpetually dressed in torn jeans and hightops decorated with one of the human flags, Zakkery’s incessant casualness annoyed Kingu. So did the fact that the Phase looked like a matinee idol. It wasn’t that Kingu was envious of some pathetic Elemental, of course. But, it irritated him that someone so obnoxious would be gifted with such uncanny good looks. Especially, since Zakkery didn’t even seem to appreciate what a genetic blessing he’d received. Women loved this asshole. It was dumbfounding.

  The Smoke Phase basically seemed like he rolled out of bed, randomly tossed on whatever semi-clean clothing he scrounged up off the floor, scraped his hands through his too long hair and began a hard day of chain smoking. It aggravated Kingu to be around someone so… chaotic.

  On Zakkery’s right hand, he wore a bicycle chain for a bracelet and sported a Banishment mark. It was seared into the skin on the back of his palm. It took a lot for a Phase to scar, so Zakkery’s House had really made sure that the branding went deep enough to last.

  Hopefully the process had hurt.

  A lot.

  “I want you to listen to what I’m telling you.” Kingu snarled. This whole misadventure had started two weeks before and so far they’d gotten nowhere. Immortal or not, he was losing his patience. “I want one woman. Just one. Who isn’t brainless, grating, high-pitched, skeletal, or blonde. Or breakable.” He tacked on the last one because he worried about accidently hurting a woman. He didn’t want her bones snapping because of his size. And on a related note… “I would also prefer one doesn’t back away when she sees me.”

  “That condition’s gonna be tough.” Zakkery muttered.

  No doubt he was right. In fact, Kingu had yet to meet a woman who didn’t move away when she first spotted him. Not that it mattered. “I don’t give a shit what you have to do.” Kingu said truthfully. “All I want is my woman.”

  “Well, pick one and she’ll be yours.
Christ! Is there really that big a difference for someone like you? Pick the one you most want to fuck and let’s move the hell on.”

  Kingu rolled his eyes. It was impossible to explain to his motivations to a lesser creature. Zakkery wasn’t capable of understanding what it meant to desire a woman for more than just breeding. The Phases were a base species, ruled by their biological impulses. Kingu wasn’t even sure himself why it mattered so much that he find this one specific girl, just that his powers would let him know when he finally located her.

  “Perhaps, interchangeable women are suitable for you. I have higher standards. None of these cookie-cutter Phases you keep offering me are even close to my specifications. I want one plain, uncomplicated, quiet female. Stretch the limits of your capabilities and see if you can complete this herculean task.”

  Zakkery’s eyes narrowed at the sarcasm. “Why don’t we come at this from a different angle?” He suggested tightly. “Tell me something specific. Not what you don’t want this girl to be or this vague crap about how you want someone ‘quiet’ and ‘efficient.’ I want something real.”

  “Efficiency is real.” Kingu insisted. “That’s a vital quality.” He didn’t want someone chaotic. He’d had far too much chaos in his life.

  Zakkery disregarded that. “Give me something concrete to go on. A tangible thing to look for. Like double D’s, or her SAT scores, or how about just one word to describe this impossible girl? What do you want her to give you?”

  “Hope.”

  The word was out before Kingu could censor it and he immediately wished he could call it back. Not just because Zakkery’s usual sardonic expression sagged in utter shock at the uncharacteristically whimsical answer, but because Kingu knew it was such an impossible request.

  He was used to not having hope.

  When you didn’t have a soul, you eventually reached a point where you just accepted what you were and you stopped thinking you could ever be something more. You had to do that, or you went insane. A kind of numbness set in. A deep knowledge that you were completely and totally on your own.

  That was the hardest part to come to grips with. Realizing that even your prayers went unheard. It had taken Kingu millennia to accept that whatever bigger, stronger gods might be out there, they had no interest in a creature they hadn’t had a hand in making. He was outside the natural scope. Beyond their jurisdiction.

  Created, not born.

  When you didn’t have a soul, it also seemed pointless to try and to squeeze your behavior into some bedtime story box of morality. Good and bad meant nothing. How could they? Regardless of the outcome, it wasn’t like there was anything to look forward to on the back-end. You could save the world or end it, and the outcome would be the same when you finally died. No holy white light pulling you upward. No punishing fire dragging you down.

  Nothing but the same kind of funeral a broken chair might finally have, after its owner chopped it to bits and tossed it out for the trash. No one mourned the chair. It wasn’t rewarded or punished for the kind of life it had led. It didn’t go to Chair Heaven or Chair Hell.

  It just… ceased to exist.

  With that kind of happy destiny looming on the horizon, it was little wonder that Kingu always concentrated on the present far more than the future. He’d endured for countless centuries focusing no further than the next afternoon. He lived his life in day long blocks, not really caring what happened.

  Perhaps things would have been different if he’d been allowed to fulfill his actual potential in the universe. Perhaps he would have tried harder to make a difference in the world. Perhaps he could have found some purpose beyond routine survival.

  After all, Kingu was a god.

  He held more energy than any ludicrous Phase could imagine. He wasn’t as powerful as his mother, of course, but few people were. Kay was the primordial Khaos. She controlled all the formless, destructive nothingness in existence, which –sadly-- was so much scarier than it sounded. She’d killed so many weaker, more breakable beings that she’d eventually manufactured Kingu to be her permanent captive audience.

  Literally captive.

  Kingu had been a slave to his mother from the day he’d been created. He was the only one strong enough to withstand her endless torture. She’d made sure of that. Made sure he was immortal and healed quickly from the wounds she loved to inflict. And she made sure that Kingu couldn’t access any of his own powers and that he did every single thing she asked. Made sure she controlled him, inside and out.

  Then Kay’s sister, Tessie, had sent Kay into a coma, and Kingu found that he was suddenly free. Free to do and have what he’d always wanted. Free to find the one tiny spark of hope that always burned in the deepest recess of his being. A tiny flame that represented her.

  A woman of his own.

  She was the only dream he’d been able to retain in captivity, buried deep in the rebellious corners of his mind that Kay couldn’t touch. His future remained a bleak blur of meaningless days, but the idea of this woman calmed him. The horrific memories, and the constant fear that Kay might one day awaken, lessened when he concentrated on the woman.

  He had to find her and the pitiful, brain-dead Phases were going to help him.

  Even if he had to kill them, one by one, to gain their cooperation.

  “You want a woman who will bring you hope?” Zakkery’s tone made it sound like syphilis. His dark brows climbed up his forehead so far that they reached his hairline. “Holy shit. You’re not looking for a quick lay… You’re looking for your Match!”

  Kingu’s eyes narrowed like death. “Elementals have Matches. I’m above that kind of sentimental bullshit, because I’m not one of you amoebas. I am a god.”

  Zakkery gave his head a mystified shake, gray eyes alight with dawning comprehension. “I know you keep saying that you want this one special girl. I just figured this was about you not knowing what the hell you were doing and trying to stall. I mean, obviously you wouldn’t be a ladies’ man.” He waved an all-encompassing hand at Kingu’s face and body. “But, this isn’t about you getting your rocks off, at all.” He grinned. “This really is about you wanting a fucking bride!”

  Kingu regarded him emotionlessly.

  Elementals were pests. Ungrateful and small. Like all insects they served an invisible, if important purpose, of course. Phases balanced the Elements; Water, Air, Time, Stone and all the rest of the endless boring list. The different Houses ensured that that Fires burned and Light shone and that nature herself remained afloat. Without them, the universe would collapse.

  But then, cockroaches surely had some bigger function, too. Some fundamental, indiscernible cog in the Circle of Life that kept the higher species spinning on. You still didn’t want them skiddering around you all the time.

  Kingu stepped closer to Zakkery. He would never allow himself to be goaded by some piss ant Phase, but he certainly wasn’t going to tolerate insubordination, either. Zakkery was supposed to be finding Kingu’s woman. That was the deal they made when Zakkery sought him out. If the Elemental couldn’t do that, there would be one less Smoke Phase in the universe.

  Either way, it was win/win.

  Still, it would be faster to just teach Zakkery a lesson about his place. Perhaps that would serve as motivation for the little shit. Kingu hand whipped out, catching Zakkery by the throat.

  It happened so fast Zakkery didn’t have time to do anything but curse, before he was being tossed fifteen feet across the lawn into one of the distinctive rounded trees. He hit it hard enough to send the damn thing toppled right over.

  That was one of the problems with this accursed realm.

  Everything was so small.

  Kingu nearly rolled his eyes. He hadn’t anticipated the destruction and it annoyed him that Zakkery had now ruined the symmetry of the shaded path. Kingu liked his surroundings neat, balanced and orderly. He snapped his fingers, instantly replacing the broken stump with a new, meticulously shaped, identical puff-ball of a tree
. Better. Still not great, but considering the asinine vegetation he was surrounded by, it would have to do.

  Meanwhile, the assembled women gave shrieks of panic at the unintentional lumberjacking. Or maybe it was at his casual show of powers. Most of the females were Phases, so you couldn’t really expect much backbone. Such a weak species. Not a warrior among them. They dashed out of range, their high heels sinking into the pale pink grass of the park, casting him terrified looks over their shoulders.

  One woman met his gaze and he saw her openly cringe.

  Kingu was used to horrified expressions.

  Kay’s home had been full of mirrors. There’d been no way for Kingu to miss his own face staring back at him every day. Even without the mirrors, though, he could’ve seen his reflection in the reactions of the people around him. The widening of their eyes. Their quick steps back. The indrawn gasps of fright. Most of the time, he didn’t care. He even enjoyed their shock.

  He knew what they saw.

  Kingu didn’t look like his mother, which had no doubt been her intention. Kay went out of her way to ensure that Kingu would never be accepted anywhere else. His face wasn’t normal. Not entirely hideous, but like his features were a mix of a man and a dragon. Black hair hit his shoulders, so dark it shone blue. His crimson eyes had a sinister glow, his jaw was fierce and hard, and the skin of his hands was textured like a snake. Kingu towered over the humans and the Phases, his body built along far more substantial lines. No one in this realm matched his size.

  How could they, given what he was?

  Every century or so, Kay experienced an intermittent period where she decided she liked some small part of human culture. She’d been a great Louisa May Alcott fan back in the nineteenth century, forcing Kingu to read her Little Women at least a dozen times and always squeezing out meaningless tears as Beth died. Then, she’d grown bored with the novel and burned it. Her attention span was fickle and short.