Elemental Thief

by Rachel Morgan

  31

  Ridley’s magic set the three of them down in a quiet street several blocks away from Brex Tower. She checked for passing drones, then pulled her magic back inside herself. The moment they were visible again, she reached for the masquerade mask—the mask that had looked so strangely familiar—and pulled it free, taking the beanie with it. At the sight of those blue eyes she knew almost as well as her own, her heart leaped. “Dad!” She dropped the mask and beanie and flung both arms around him. “You’re okay,” she whispered as tears stung her eyes.

  He hugged her tightly. “We’re both okay. Everything’s okay.”

  “Not yet,” Archer said from behind them. “I need to get to the mayor’s house. Lawrence’s computer needs to be destroyed.”

  “Already done,” Dad said, pulling away from Ridley and looking at Archer.

  “What?” she asked. “You … what were you doing there?”

  “Looking for you. I overhead the mayor’s wife on her commscreen. Fortunately, Lawrence gave away enough information for me to know I needed to destroy his computer. And just before the call went dead, I heard him say your name. So I used a conjuration to crush the computer and all its component bits and pieces, then went straight to Brex Tower.”

  Archer exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. “Thank you, Mr. Kayne. That’s a relief.”

  “But you still need to leave,” Dad added. “Make sure you’re seen somewhere else as soon as possible.” He looked back in the direction of Brex Tower. “You definitely don’t want to be linked to the murder of the mayor’s son.”

  “Right. Of course not. You said you have the flash drive?” Archer asked Ridley. She nodded as she removed it from her pocket and handed it to him. He dropped it onto the sidewalk and ground his heel back and forth into it until it broke apart into numerous tiny pieces. Dad crouched down and did a quick conjuration—a conjuration! Her father was using magic!—that lit the remains of the flash drive on fire.

  “And the envelope?” Archer asked as Dad straightened. “Because if that’s still up there, we should go back for it. It might contain sensitive information.”

  Ridley paused for a fraction of a second before shaking her head. “It burned up.”

  “Oh. Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I managed to get hold of the flash drive, so it was protected when I became fire, but the envelope was on the table and it burned right through. It was nothing but ashes.” She couldn’t quite explain why she kept the truth from him. Perhaps it was that she still didn’t fully trust Archer, or perhaps it was because he already knew too much about her. But whatever was inside her letter, she wanted to be the first to know it.

  “Okay. Well, that’s good. No one else can get hold of it.” He looked over his shoulder, then back at her. “I guess I need to go make sure my face is seen somewhere far from Brex Tower.”

  “Yeah, just make sure you clean the blood up first,” Ridley said. “And maybe get yourself into a bar fight as soon as possible so you have an explanation for your swollen nose. Actually—” She stepped closer to him. “Just come here. I’ll fix it quickly.” And for the second time that day, Ridley weaved her hands through the air in the conjuration that caused magic to fix broken bones. “I hope it’s a broken bone,” she muttered. “If it’s something else—the cartilage?—then this probably won’t help.” She lowered her hands and stepped back when she was done, and only then did she think to look around to see if there was a drone nearby or a person looking out of a window. What was wrong with her? She was usually so careful.

  “It’s okay,” Dad said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

  “Thanks,” Archer said, gesturing to his nose. “And thanks for helping me get the flash drive back. And I’m glad you’re okay, Mr. Kayne.” He glanced at Ridley’s father, then back at Ridley. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” His eyes lingered on her face for several more moments before he turned and jogged away.

  When he’d disappeared around the corner, Ridley took her father’s hands and held them tight. “Dad, you were using magic. You were fighting with magic. Which means … you don’t actually have an AI2?”

  Dad pulled his wedding ring off and showed her where an extra piece of metal had been fused to the inside. “That’s my AI2. I had it removed from my skin a few months after it was first put in. I just …” He inhaled deeply and shook his head. “I needed to know I could protect you if something ever happened. So yes, I know how to use certain offensive conjurations. Some that probably haven’t been used in decades. I hoped I would never have reason to use them, but today I did.”

  Ridley nodded slowly. “Is that what helped you get away from Lawrence’s guys? The ones who came to our apartment?”

  “Yes. And now you’re okay and I’m okay, and anyone who knows what you can do is gone.”

  “Gone?” She swallowed, not sure if she wanted to know exactly what her father was capable of. “So those guys who were in our house …”

  “It was me or them, Riddles.”

  She nodded slowly, trying not to think of the blood on the floor. “And the man and woman on the balcony … did you kill them?”

  “They weren’t planning to let us get away. They wanted to kill you. I did what I had to do.”

  Something in his words made her remember Shen, and the tears that filled her eyes were unstoppable. She shook her head, sucked in a deep breath and managed to say, “It was—him. Dad, it was Shen. He really did—kill that—man.” She sniffed and tried to steady her voice, but it was impossible. “The man in—the alley. Shen killed him.”

  Dad’s hands moved up to her shoulders as his frown deepened. “No, I think you’re confused.”

  She shook her head vigorously and took in another deep breath. “I’m not confused. He was there now on the balcony. He wanted to kill Lawrence and Archer. Last week in the alley—he was trying to hit Archer. But he hit the other guy by accident. And tonight, he was the one who shot Lawrence. And then he just jumped. Over the edge and onto a drone. A big drone. Like he knew it was going to be there.”

  Dad stared at her for what seemed like ages. Eventually, he pulled her into a hug. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, Riddles. I’m just … I don’t know what to say.”

  They stood like that for some time, until eventually Ridley’s tears had stopped falling and her shoulders had stopped shuddering. She stared down at the embellished blue mask sitting on the sidewalk and said, “The masquerade mask? Really?”

  “I was in a rush,” Dad said. “I grabbed the first thing I thought of that would cover my face.”

  Ridley nodded against his shoulder. “Whatever works, I guess.”

  “Yep.” Dad let out a long sigh, then said, “Let’s go home, okay? You can have a shower. Maybe eat something. We can talk about Shen after that.”

  They returned home, and after they’d tidied the living room as best they could, Ridley headed to the shower. She spent far longer than normal beneath the cascade of hot water, letting it ease the numerous aches she’d gathered throughout the day. Her brain replayed everything way too many times, reminding her that she didn’t know nearly as much about the people in her life as she’d always believed: her best friend didn’t lead an innocent, simple life; her father wasn’t the gentle, law-abiding man she needed to take care of; and Archer wasn’t the self-absorbed heir who hated magic as much as the rest of his family. And perhaps she wasn’t the person she thought she was either.

  From what I’m hearing, this is more about bitterness and revenge than about justice. Archer’s words whispered in her mind, and this time, she didn’t shove them away. This time, she recognized that he might be right. Her crimes had definitely helped people, but she’d taken far too much pleasure in stealing from those who’d rejected her and Dad after the Cataclysm. Where did this leave her though? Would she stop stealing? Would she stop trying to help people? Or would she continue doing exactly as she’d always done, but with the knowledge that her motives weren’t as pure as she might lik
e them to be?

  As the water began to lose its heat, she turned it off, pushing aside her guilty thoughts to deal with later. Stepping out of the shower, she heard music from the direction of the living room. One of Mom’s favorite old bands. Ridley almost managed a smile as she wrapped herself in a towel and stood with her eyes closed for a while, listening to the strumming of a guitar and a warm voice singing the words Mom used to sing along with whenever they drove long distances outside the city.

  Ridley thought of the day she’d lost Mom, and she imagined what it would have been like if she’d lost Dad today. She banished the thought immediately because the ache in her chest made it almost impossible to breathe. She pulled the towel tighter around herself and headed for her bedroom.

  Once she was in her pajamas, she sat cross-legged on her bed and pulled the yellow envelope out from beneath her pillow. Part of her was afraid to know what was inside here; part of her wondered if maybe it was a silly, small thing she would end up rolling her eyes at. There was only one way to know.

  She opened the envelope and tipped it upside down. Numerous folded white pages fell out, none with a name on the outside, though each did have a drawing of a tree. She thought the tree design seemed familiar, but it was possible she was imagining that. What had Lawrence said about the names? He’d only noticed them on the letters later on. They’d appeared as if by magic.

  Patches of glowing blue color rose to the surface of Ridley’s skin as she moved her hand over the letters spread in front of her. Slowly, names materialized on each one. Her heart raced a little faster as she spotted hers. She picked it up, remembering how she’d snuck through the mayor’s house and through Lawrence’s bedroom using magic. Was that why the names had appeared on these letters then? Had she come close enough to this envelope that her magic had touched it?

  With fingers that shook the tiniest bit, she opened her letter.

  Dear Ridley,

  * * *

  We’re writing to you in case you don’t know what you are. In case you’ve never known there are others like you. In case you don’t know that your kind has been in danger for centuries.

  * * *

  You are an elemental. The same magic that exists in the elements exists inside you. It has always been feared by some, and so there have always been those who want to hunt down and kill your kind. An organization has existed for centuries. The Shadow Society. Its reach has extended into every country, every city, every sphere of life. You can’t go to the authorities. You can’t trust any of them. Their purpose is to rid the world of us.

  * * *

  We’ve quietly been keeping track of every elemental we know of, but that information has been stolen. The society has some of it now—and they will soon have the rest. They don’t know yet exactly who you are or where you live, but they know how many of you there are in your city. And now that they know, they won’t stop searching for you. It’s only a matter of time before they discover you. You need to get out. If they catch you, they’ll kill you.

  * * *

  Alfie Biyela, Heng Wu, Serena Adams, Mary Woodstock. These are just a few of the elementals who’ve been discovered and killed in recent years. If you know of any of them, you may have heard their deaths were accidental. They were not.

  * * *

  If you stay where you are, you won’t be safe. You’ll be hunted and killed, as they were. Make your way into the wastelands. Look for the signs. Listen to the elements. You will find us.

  * * *

  Your brothers and sisters

  Ridley read the letter four times before finally lowering it. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, and her breath was quick and shallow. So she was an elemental, and there were others just like her. She wasn’t alone. She. Was. Not. Alone! The truth pounded on the inside of her brain, begging to be screamed from the rooftops. Random thoughts bombarded her mind, suddenly making sense in the light of everything she’d just read. Of course the Madsons had an air freshener filled with arxium particles. They knew there were other people like her, and they were protecting themselves. They must be part of this Shadow Society. This organization that wanted to wipe out everyone like Ridley.

  And the information that was stolen? The information that the author of this letter was worried would soon wind up in the society’s possession? That must have been the information on the flash drive. Serena Adams, another elemental, was supposed to fetch it after Archer hid it inside the figurine. She was supposed to keep it from the Shadow Society. Ridley’s guess—that it contained details about the underworld of regular magic-users beneath the Lumina City—had been wrong.

  And Archer had let her believe her own assumption.

  He knew about these elementals. He knew she wasn’t the only one and he lied to her when she asked! And the tree—the tree! Ridley crumpled the edge of the letter in her hand as the memory surfaced abruptly: The tree carving on Dad’s little wooden box that Mom had given him years ago. It looked just like this one. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? No. Her father knew what she was. He knew there were others like her.

  And he’d never told her a thing.

  She climbed off the bed, her face flushed and her hands shaking. She walked to the living room and stood in the doorway, the letter clutched in her hand. Dad was sitting in one of the armchairs, and she waited for him to look up at her before she said, “No more secrets.”

  His brow drew lower. “What are you talking about?”

  She held the letter up so he could see the drawing of the tree. “We need to talk.”

  She expected surprise, at the very least, but Dad’s expression didn’t change. He looked across the room at the person sitting on the couch, partially concealed in shadows. The person Ridley hadn’t noticed until this moment. “Yes,” Dad said. “I think we do.”

  Thank you for reading Elemental Thief!

  * * *

  Ridley’s story continues in the second book of the Ridley Kayne Chronicles. Preorder now if you’d like the ebook to be auto-delivered to your e-reader on release day!

  One heist changed everything for Ridley. Continue the pulse-pounding journey as she uncovers the secrets of her past and races to remain one step ahead of those who hunt her.

  * * *

  PREORDER NOW!

  Author’s Note & Acknowledgments

  Do you ever watch those nature documentaries? You know, like Blue Planet or Planet Earth or the ones made by National Geographic? They’re not the kind of thing I ever watch on my own, but my husband and I enjoy watching them together (and we both agree that falling asleep on the couch on a Sunday afternoon to the sound of David Attenborough’s voice is one of the best things).

  I’m always amazed and awed by the incredible beauty of our world that I see in these documentaries. But many of them end on a sobering note. They highlight a gorgeous part of our world, and then they show the viewer how that portion of our world is being destroyed because of the effect humans are having on it.

  And it’s just so darn sad.

  I didn’t start out the Ridley Kayne Chronicles by wanting to highlight some important issue in the real world. I don’t ever start stories that way. For me, stories start with characters and everything else is built upon that layer by layer. At the end of the day, all I really want is for you to feel all the feels, and come away having had a satisfying escape into another world.

  But I wasn’t too far into Ridley’s story when I realized that the history of her world—the broken, damaged planet with its magic that humans took advantage of for too long—mirrored what we, in real life, are doing to our planet.

  This isn’t a story about saving the environment, and this note isn’t meant to make you depressed. It’s just a small reminder to not take for granted the glorious creation we live in. Enjoy it! Appreciate it! (And maybe think twice next time you’re about to use a plastic straw. ;-))

  * * *

  Thank you: to God for our beautiful world; to Kimberly Belden for editing notes; to
my early readers for leaving reviews and spreading the word about this book; to Kyle for supporting my writing career no matter how many, many hours I spend lost in my fictional worlds; and you, for taking a chance on this first book in a new series!

  * * *

  xx Rachel

  About the Author

  Rachel Morgan spent a good deal of her childhood living in a fantasy land of her own making, crafting endless stories of make-believe and occasionally writing some of them down. After completing a degree in genetics and discovering she still wasn’t grown-up enough for a ‘real’ job, she decided to return to those story worlds still spinning around her imagination. These days she spends much of her time immersed in fantasy land once more, writing fiction for young adults and those young at heart.

  * * *

  Rachel lives in Cape Town with her husband and three miniature dachshunds. She is the author of the bestselling Creepy Hollow series, and also writes sweet contemporary romance under the name Rochelle Morgan.

  * * *

  Find more info on Rachel’s website

  www.rachel-morgan.com

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