Elemental Hunger

by Elana Johnson

  I got out of the pool and wrapped the towel around myself. “Okay,” I whispered, and Adam immediately started down the steps again. He appeared only a few seconds later. He kept his eyes on mine, holding the clean pair of pants in front of him like a shield. It might have been funny if I wasn’t naked beneath the thin towel.

  He set them down on a rock a few feet from me, along with a clean T-shirt, a pair of socks and shoes, and the magical cloak. His gaze flickered to where my clothes lay drying and I almost fell backward into the pool. My underclothes…were clearly feminine.

  “Is it hot?” he asked, meeting my eyes again.

  “Hot enough,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to do anything. You know that, right?”

  He walked over to me and cupped my face in his palm. “You’re wrong. Just feel, don’t think.” He trailed his cool fingers down my neck and over my shoulder. Then he turned and bounded up the steps.

  I couldn’t breathe. His touch burned a path as permanent as if he’d branded me—or worse, tattooed himself into my skin.

  I shook away the confusion that came with my mixed-up feelings. Turning back to the pool, I saw another ripple cross the surface.

  I jumped back in and swam to the far side, where the water moved the most. I sucked in a breath and dove under. Feeling with my hands, I located the water bubbling into the pool. Temperature: Ice cold.

  Without thinking, I pulled on my Element and sent a super-heated ball of flames into the bubbly opening.

  I kicked to the surface, gulped in another breath, and dove again. This time when I pressed my fingers to the opening, the water trickling into the pool felt blazing hot.

  I laughed underwater, large air bubbles escaping my mouth. I broke the surface, nearly choking as I inhaled a lungful of half air, half water.

  Sputtering and coughing, I swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out. Wrapped tightly in the towel, I held my burning hands over my underclothes to finish drying them.

  Bonus: I didn’t have to pull on icy underwear.

  Hanai’s breeches were too big, but I cinched them tight, admiring the soft leather. Just as I pulled the cloak over my clothes, Hanai called, “Can we come down now?”

  “Yeah,” I called back. I arranged several stones into a circle and lit a fire.

  Hanai crouched next to me. “What took you so long? Even girls are faster than you.”

  I worked hard to breathe in and out. “I made your pool a hot spring,” I said. “And if you had a fire in the middle of these rocks, your clothes would dry faster. And they’ll be warm when you put them on. I thought that might be nice.”

  Hanai opened his mouth, but Adam cut him off. “Hey, Gabe. Why don’t you go get Chief Tavar? He can bewitch the flames so they’ll never go out. We should be done by the time you get back.”

  I stood up, Hanai copying my every move.

  “That’s what I was going to suggest,” he said. “We’re already on the same mental wavelength. This is so Manifested.” He grinned at Adam and then me.

  Adam smiled. “Do you remember the way, Gabe? Don’t worry if you get lost, just follow the smoke. Take your time.”

  Again, his last three words came out as a command. I didn’t care. Hanai peeled off his shirt and started fumbling with the buttons on his pants.

  Blazing infernos! I bolted for the stairs without looking back, even when Adam laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

  By the time I made it back to the bathing pool with the Chief, Hanai—fully dressed, thankfully—lay stretched out beside the remains of the fire, his long black hair steaming as it dried. The Chief joined him and poked at the glowing embers, stroking them back into flames.

  “They’re talking about you.” Adam spoke in a soft voice as he stepped next to me.

  I didn’t look at him, but kept my eyes on the steaming water. “What’re they saying?”

  “They’re happy you’re here…. Hanai is gushing about the hot spring…. Chief Tavar wants us to stay awhile.”

  I grunted. “Should we? Stay awhile?”

  “I think so,” Adam whispered. “They won’t hurt us, we can regain our strength, go to Gregorio in a month or so. They’ll even teach us some magic.”

  “Don’t you already know magic? I mean, how can you hear them?”

  “The air tells me everything.”

  I shifted, making rustling noises in the forest debris.

  “Like right now you’re scared. Why?”

  Scared wasn’t exactly right. More like nervous. I cleared my throat. “Can they teach me how to read?”

  “You can’t read?”

  “Hot blazes. Scream it, why don’t you? No, I can’t read, all right?”

  Adam took a step back, his eyes searching mine. I put on my best I-dare-you-to-say-another-word face.

  “Sorry, sorry. I can teach you to read. That’s definitely something you need to know. All Firemakers—”

  “Firemaker?” the Chief asked. “Would you like to participate in the bewitching ceremony?”

  “Sure,” I said at the same time I turned around. Relieved I didn’t have to endure Adam’s lecture about what all Firemakers should know how to do, I hurried over to the Chief.

  Adam came up beside me, and the four of us formed a circle around the fire.

  The wind picked up, snaking its way down the collar of my cloak. Adam raised both hands and shoved them forward, palms out. The wind whistled before disappearing into the trees.

  “Impressive, Mr. Gillman,” the Chief said. “Almost as impressive as Mr. Kilpatrick’s hot spring.” His gaze landed on me, and I squirmed under the weight of it. “But let me show you what Spirit-speakers can do.”

  He started chanting, a low sound that originated in his throat and didn’t go much further. I couldn’t understand his language, but the song had a familiar rhythm. As the minutes passed, my heart beat in time with the melody.

  “One,” the Chief intoned without breaking the continuity of the chant.

  I locked eyes with Adam, almost sensing his pulse within my own chest. It fluttered too fast—frantic almost. I smiled, though not all the way. His face relaxed, the crinkles around his eyes creasing as he smiled back. His pulse slowed, matching mine.

  “Two,” the Chief said, his eyes closed now. The chant picked up in tempo; my heart matched it. The curling smoke soothed me, and I wanted to close my eyes and get lost in the woodsy scent of it.

  Forcing myself to keep my eyes open, I glanced at Hanai. He grinned at me like a kid who’d just been chosen for a Council. His pulse thrummed too slowly, and I frowned. He did too, his heartbeat quickening.

  “Three,” the Chief said, the underlying rhythm unbroken. He thrust his hand into the fire, still chanting in the back of his throat.

  My heart stopped completely at the sight of his fist in the flames. He seemed to be stroking them, actually touching them. As he did, they turned colors, first burning green, then purple, then blue.

  I wanted to see Adam’s and Hanai’s reactions, judge them against my own, but I couldn’t look away from the multicolored flames. At last, they blazed orange, and the Chief withdrew his hand, the chant dying in his chest.

  “Eternal flame,” he pronounced. His flesh remained untouched, not a blister or even so much as a smudge of soot on it. “The Firemaker’s flame is truly remarkable. I’ve never had the privilege of enchanting such interesting flames. Delightful.”

  Well, that didn’t even begin to describe what had just happened. I gazed at the ordinary-looking fire. Minus the smoke. So I guess it wasn’t so ordinary.

  The Chief rose in a fluid movement. “Interesting thing, your fire. Those flames had a lot to say.”

  I straightened too, wiping my hands on the cloak. “You can talk to fire?”

  “Spirit-speakers can talk to anything,” he replied. “Your fire was…lovely to converse with.”

  The heat crept into my cheeks, and I turned away. “Yeah, lovely,” I managed to mumble. I hoped I wouldn’t hurl right ther
e. I couldn’t believe my own Element—my own flames—had ratted me out.

  I walked away just as Hanai asked, “Lovely? What does that mean?”

  It means your dad knows I’m a girl! I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip and climbed the stairs. Lovely mocked me inside my own head, even when Adam caught up to me. He asked if I was okay, and I made an excuse about being tired.

  Hanai showed me to his cot inside the one-room cabin and said I could rest as long as I wanted. “I’ll make you something to eat, all right? Do you want me to wake you up when it’s ready?”

  “Sure. Thanks, Hanai.”

  He grinned. “I’m so glad you’re here, Gabe.”

  I couldn’t smile back, but Hanai left without noticing. I glanced around the small cabin, noting a curtain that divided it in half. On the other side stood another cot, presumably for the Chief. I wondered if he would sleep somewhere else, or if we’d be sharing. I almost wanted him nearby, but at the same time, I needed to be alone.

  I lay down on Hanai’s cot, hot tears gathering behind my eyes. Crying was out of the question. If either Adam or Hanai sees me….

  I rolled over and sniffed, swiping at an escaping tear. The cabin door opened, and I said, “Leave me alone.”

  “I heard…I mean, are you okay?” The tenderness in Adam’s voice pulled at my heart.

  “I’m fine.”

  He crossed the cabin and touched my shoulder. “Liar.”

  “Leave me alone, okay? I just need some time.”

  “Time for what?” His breath billowed over my neck, causing something unfamiliar to stir inside.

  To figure out what to do next. What to say to the Chief. How to act like a blazing guy. How I feel about you.

  My thoughts—especially the ones about Adam—surprised me.

  “Just stuff,” I said, glad my voice didn’t sound too nasally.

  “We can trust Hanai with your secret,” he whispered.

  I rolled to look at him. “Can we?”

  “He’s going to be your Unmanifested. You’ll have to tell him sooner or later. I vote for sooner.”

  My breath seemed too heavy for my lungs. “I know. Tomorrow, okay? I have to…find the right words.”

  A grin graced his features and softened his jaw. “Tomorrow.” Then his lips touched my temple. A hot, foreign shiver ran down my spine. A moment later, the cabin door banged closed, drowning out my racing pulse.

  As I lay there, I wondered if the Chief would tell his son before I could, wondered how much more complicated my life could get.

  I woke in the dark, my stomach cramping. I sat up to find someone had covered me with a blanket.

  My cloak, shoes, and socks: Removed.

  My feet: Bound and dressed in white cloth.

  Gasping for breath, I stumbled to the door, causing quite a racket as I went. The night air nipped my lungs as I sucked at it. I sank to my knees, trying to figure out why I felt so panicked—so trapped.

  I’d felt like this at school too. Unable to find somewhere to fit. Powerless, with secrets and lies hidden deep inside. Large hands squirmed inside my chest, finding my heart and squeezing, squeezing the life out.

  I ran my hands over my scalp and took deep, calming breaths. My feet didn’t hurt, and when I removed the dressings I found them completely healed.

  “Gabe?” Hanai crouched next to me. “My father worked his healing magic on your injuries.”

  I nodded, unsure I could speak without crying.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  My stomach twisted with hunger, and I focused on it to clear my emotions. “Yeah, okay. Where’s Adam?” I asked as I followed Hanai over to the fire.

  “In the cabin. He insisted I didn’t wake you up. He went to bed as soon as he ate.”

  “What time is it?”

  Hanai looked to the sky before answering. “Almost four. People will be up soon. You slept forever, man.”

  “Yeah, well,” I said, adopting Adam’s policy of vague answers as I sat next to Hanai. The fire sparked, and I leaned forward, inhaling the smoke. My nerves settled.

  Hanai handed me a metal bowl. “Rabbit stew,” he said. “You’ll like it.”

  I’d like rubbery beans at this point. The stew was rich and hot, nothing like the canned garbage Adam had in the backpack, and certainly nothing like I’d ever been privileged to eat at school. I ate it all in a matter of minutes. Hanai refilled my bowl without asking, also dishing himself seconds.

  He handed me a round piece of flatbread, and I used it to soak up the last of the stew. When I was finished, he took my dishes and set them next to his. “Where’re you from?”

  “Crylon.” I could only maintain so many lies.

  “How’d you meet Adam then?” His question seemed innocent, but it brought up so much I didn’t want to explain.

  I swallowed the last of my bread. “Um, in Forrester.”

  Hanai looked into the fire, the orange glow illuminating half of his face. His eyes reflected trust. Innocence. “But that sentry said they were looking for a girl.”

  I held one hand over the fire, inviting the flames to jump into my palm. “They are.” The fire remained stubbornly in the pit. I gazed at it, imploring it to come. Finally, it leaped and landed in my hand, licking my fingers.

  “But my dad said they’re looking for you, that we need to protect you.” He watched me, firelight chasing the shadows from his face.

  I swallowed hard. His dad had told him about me. “I don’t know who the sentries are looking for, but it’s not me.”

  He simply looked at me. Then he watched the flames in my palm. He smiled, all traces of doubt gone. But he wasn’t stupid, and it was only a matter of time before he’d learn my secret.

  I felt like he knew already. He glanced at me several times, and I was glad for the bulky sweatshirt. Malnourished and overworked, I’d never had much in the way of a chest. I searched for the words that said I’m a girl but couldn’t find any that didn’t sound completely ridiculous inside my head.

  I turned my hand, and the fire scampered around to stay with me. The silence pressed down, filled with my unspoken confession. Why couldn’t I speak?

  I took a deep breath and looked toward Hanai. He was gone. I glanced around, wondering how he could move so stealthily.

  The cabin door banged, and Adam stood there wearing a blue T-shirt and a dark pair of jeans. He rubbed his eyes and tromped through the leaves to sit next to me.

  “Morning,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Fine.” I didn’t look at him.

  Adam acted like nothing had happened. No kiss, no undressing while I slept.

  “So today I thought we’d practice with the knives.”

  “Are we really staying?” I shook the flames from my fingers and into the pit, where they hissed and crackled.

  “We thought staying here for a while might be better. Give the sentries a chance to focus on something else.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Hanai.”

  I swallowed back the sour feelings. Of course Adam would know how long the sentries would keep looking. He’d been one.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” Adam said. “You’re still the lead…man. Hanai and I were just talking last night after you crashed.”

  I nodded, still pretending to admire the gnarled tree trunks a few feet away.

  “He needs to learn how to use a knife too. It’s not a big deal.”

  “No big deal,” I snapped, turning to meet his gaze.

  He didn’t even blink. “All right, then. Let’s eat and get started.”

  “We already ate,” Hanai said, appearing out of nowhere and sitting next to me.

  Adam flinched, and I was glad I wasn’t the only one.

  “Tornadoes, give me a warning, Hanai.”

  “Totally, man,” I said, trying to sound masculine. I knew I’d failed when Adam turned his laugh into a fake cough.

  “Sorry guys.” Han
ai smiled sheepishly. “I forget you’re not Spirit-speakers.”

  “Can they all move like you?” I asked.

  “Most of them, yeah.”

  “Can you hear each other?” I hoped this wasn’t something I should know about Spirit-speakers. I hadn’t been taught much, beyond being told to stay away from them. I was starting to realize that the Supremist didn’t want the competition. See, Spirit-speakers had healing powers, could talk to anything, could move silently, and who knew what else. The complete list of their magical talents could potentially outweigh being able to throw fire.

  “We can feel each other. You know, the soul of a person.”

  My pulse quickened. “Can you feel us?”

  He dished Adam some stew. “Yeah.”

  “But I thought you were Unmanifested.”

  “I am.” Hanai stirred the coals with a stick. “But I still have Spirit-speaker blood. Gifts, you Elementals call them.”

  “But your dad said you didn’t have any gifts.”

  I looked at Adam, who was no help at all. He shoveled another spoonful of stew into his mouth and shrugged, despite the fact that Hanai had just admitted to being able to feel our souls. Did that mean he could tell if someone was lying? Could he read minds too?

  Tension settled in Hanai’s shoulders. “No useful gifts.”

  “Sorry, Hanai. I didn’t—”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He patted my knee. I jerked at the contact. He jumped to his feet. “Sorry. I—I don’t know why I—” He cut off, a frown creasing his eyebrows.

  Adam elbowed me and inclined his head toward Hanai. What he meant: Tell him now.

  I shook my head. The words still weren’t in the right order.

  “Sit, Hanai. Gabe doesn’t bite. Usually.”

  I glared at Adam while Hanai chuckled. Like he would know if I was a biter or not. I’d known him for a day and a half.

  I wondered if the souls of men and women were different. Surely not, otherwise Hanai would already know I was a girl. I got up and headed for the cabin, hoping to find a way to tell Hanai and a way to reason through the disquiet growing in my gut.

  “Relax,” Adam whispered as he joined me.