Master of Elements

by Sonya Bateman

  “Unable to leave the chaos and hatred that it wrought on our once prosperous land, the Wihtiko unleashed its frustration and hunger upon the only ones it could still hunt — us. And to this day, we of the proud Annukhai village continue to outwit the mighty Wihtiko, living bravely in the shadow of the beast while the Elders hide behind the safety of their barriers. Though we struggle, we will not be beaten, and one day soon, we will all walk beneath the winter sky without fear as equals again.”

  The entire dirt landscape collapsed abruptly, and the audience dissolved into prolonged cheers and applause as the glow faded away from the stage. I found myself clapping and cheering right along with them. But no matter how impressed I was with the show, I couldn’t stop thinking about the story and wondering what the hell we were going to do now.

  Because if the Wihtiko really had slaughtered all the Annukhai adults at once, then Ian and I didn’t have a chance against it alone.

  Chapter 18

  “Okay, do we have any idea what to do about all this?”

  Ian and I sat just outside Malak’s tent with a small fire burning in the stone pit in front of us, watching the last of the Annukhai sort themselves into various huts for the night. Torches burned outside each of the dwellings and pushed back against the darkness of a star-studded sky. I tried not to look up too often, because it made me uneasy — I wasn’t what you’d call an avid stargazer, but even I could tell those stars were in the wrong place.

  “I suppose there is only one option,” Ian said with about as much enthusiasm as a man resigning himself to a four-hour proctology exam. “We must persuade the Alqani to cooperate.”

  I sighed and curled a little closer to the fire, hoping the warmth would do something about the thread of worry winding its way down my spine. “Terrific. So basically, we’re screwed.” We’d only been cut off from our own backup for a day or so and it was already getting to me — I couldn’t begin to imagine how hopeless I’d feel after a few centuries of this feeling. These kids were tougher than they looked.

  Ian snorted and picked up the long stick he’d found in the woodpile to poke at the fire. “The two tribes only succeeded at subduing the Wihtiko in the first place by working together,” he said. “Surely the Alqani must realize that much, at least.”

  “Yeah, but they also have to know the damned thing isn’t sealed up anymore, like they claimed it was.” My jaw clenched at the idea of those polar bear pricks leaving the kids out here defenseless. “Maybe they do know how to fix it, but I don’t think they care.”

  A dark expression flashed across Ian’s face. “Then we will make them care.”

  I was about to ask how the hell we were supposed to do that when I noticed a lone figure approaching us from the village. “I think that’s Malak,” I said. The poor guy looked tired enough to stumble through our campfire without noticing.

  Ian’s glance flickered up, and he grunted under his breath when he saw the young man come closer. “Good. We’ll need to discuss this with him.”

  From the expression on Malak’s face, I wasn’t sure he was up to discussing anything. The kid looked exhausted. I laughed to myself as I caught the irony in that thought — he’d said that he and Pahna were old enough to cross the barrier, which made them at least three hundred. Technically, I was a baby compared to them.

  “Good evening.” Malak stopped on the other side of the fire. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Ian gestured, and the village leader sat down. “Thank you again for your hospitality,” Ian said. “You are a generous host.”

  Malak made a small, derisive sound. “There’s no need to flatter me, Gahiji-an. I know how poor and lacking our village is,” he said wearily. “But I appreciate your tact in the matter.”

  “It does not matter what is given. What matters is the spirit in which it is offered.” Ian gave him a genuine smile. “You have offered what you have in friendship, and I have accepted in kind. This is worth far more to me than rich trinkets and overflowing coffers.”

  “Well, I would still be more satisfied with overflowing coffers to give you. I am glad you’re pleased, though,” Malak said, brightening a bit. “Anyway, I came to talk about the border spell.”

  “What a coincidence. I think we wanted to talk about that, too,” I said.

  Ian nodded. “It seems we will need the Alqani’s help in order to re-cast the spell. I should have realized this sooner, actually,” he said. “The border is a storm, and I would assume the Alqani are a water-based clan.”

  “They are, but I don’t expect them to help us.” Malak spoke in a flat, hopeless tone. “To them, we don’t even exist. They might’ve helped you, Gahiji-an, if you’d come alone. But not now, since they know that your champion is merely a pup.”

  I knew he wasn’t trying to insult me, but I couldn’t help feeling … well, a little insulted.

  “We will make them see reason,” Ian said. “Who holds the title of ray’is? I assume he is among the Alqani.”

  A muscle jumped along Malak’s jaw. “My uncle. Balain.”

  “Oh, that son of a bitch.” I should’ve known it was the djinn who’d claimed to be the ‘representative’ for the Annukhai. “He tried to make me give him the bracelet.”

  “Of course he would. They don’t want any of us having a way into their village,” Malak said. “I’m surprised he didn’t just kill you and take it.”

  I wanted to think he’d refrained because he couldn’t kill me, but that wasn’t likely. Even if the Alqani somehow knew about the tether, it was no longer a guaranteed get-out-of-death-free card. At the time, Balain was just being polite because Meriwa was.

  For all I knew, the bastard who called himself ray’is could kill me and Ian both without breaking a sweat. He looked older than Ian — and usually the older a djinn, the more powerful they were.

  “At any rate, I will deal with Balain, and we will force the Alqani council to listen,” Ian said. “If nothing else, they will act on the border spell to protect their own interests.”

  Malak stared at us across the fire. “Are you planning to live here with us, then?” he said quietly.

  “Uh … no?” I said, glancing at Ian. “We’ve got family waiting for us at home. Once we help you with the Alqani and the giant monster, we have to get back to them.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Malak sighed. “If you restore the border, going home will be impossible for you. From the inside, the border is a recursive spell. It was necessary, to ensure that the Wihtiko could never escape.”

  The look of dismay on Ian’s face worried me. A lot. “What’s a recursive spell?” I said.

  “It is reflective magic that reflects only upon itself,” Ian said hoarsely. “Cast a recursive spell on a mirror, and when you step through, you will arrive at the same place you left.”

  Okay, that sounded really bad. “Are you saying we’re trapped here?”

  “Maybe not. If the spell is as weak as Khanaq claimed, there’s a chance you could go back now,” Malak said, staring at the ground. “But if it’s recast, strengthened again …”

  “Then we will never get out,” Ian finished for him.

  Malak nodded glumly. “My brother may be impulsive and irrational, but I’m afraid he was right about one thing.” He lifted his head, and defeat swam in his eyes. “You can’t help us. No one can.”

  “Bullshit. There has to be another way.” I definitely wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life locked away from Jazz and Cyrus, but I wasn’t willing to walk away from the Annukhai, either. “Come on, Malak. You must’ve thought about this,” I said. “How can we fix this without completely screwing your village?”

  He laughed without humor. “There is another way. Unfortunately, it’s already been tried, and it failed spectacularly.” A shudder worked its way through him. “Kill the Wihtiko, and the border spell is no longer necessary.”

  “Then that is exactly what we’ll do,” Ian practically growled. “And the Alqani will help us do it.�
�

  I knew he’d say that — because I was half a second from saying it myself.

  Malak was already shaking his head. “It’s impossible,” he said. “Even if you could get them to listen, the creature is too powerful. The best of both clans only managed to put it to sleep, and even that didn’t last.”

  “Well, now you’ve got something you didn’t have before,” I said. “Us.”

  “Really.” Malak’s sarcastic eyebrow-arch managed to rival Ian at his snarkiest, making him look far older. “And just how many other legendary creatures have you and Gahiji-an killed?”

  I had to laugh. “Okay, you got me there,” I said. “But the thing about us is, we’re too stubborn to give up.”

  “That is true. Even when one of us knows it would be foolish to continue.”

  “Hey. I’m not the only stubborn idiot around here,” I said in response to Ian’s narrow-eyed look. “The point is that we’re not going to abandon you like everybody else did. We came to help, and that’s what we’re doing, period.”

  Ian nodded in agreement. “But this will not be easy for you, either,” he said to Malak. “In the morning, we will go to the Alqani village to negotiate with them … and you and Pahna must accompany us.”

  “Negotiate?” Malak sputtered. “If you think those bloated kahnzir would even entertain the idea of —”

  “Now, I do not mean to suggest that we go with the intention of extending civility,” Ian said with a dark smile. “The negotiations will undoubtedly be hostile. But one way or another, an accord will be reached.”

  “In that case, I might enjoy your style of negotiating.” Malak actually smiled for a moment. “All right. We’ll come with you,” he said as he stood and brushed himself off. Ian got up too, and I shrugged and followed suit so I wouldn’t be the only one sitting on the ground. “I’d better go and tell Pahna. She won’t be happy about this.”

  Goodnights made the rounds, and Malak headed back down into the village. “Perhaps we should turn in as well,” Ian said as he grabbed the torch mounted on a pole in front of the tent and lit it with the fire. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  “Yeah.” I watched him kick dirt onto the fire to put it out. Or try to, anyway. The ground was too hard-packed to move much with a foot. “Here, I’ll get that,” I said as I crouched and put a hand on the ground.

  “Donatti, wait. You should not —”

  I’d already let the magic loose. There was a minor earthquake as the ground split open beneath the fire, and then waves of dirt rose up and crashed above the flames and red-hot logs, swallowing the stone circle pit along with the rest.

  “Er. Whoops.”

  Ian gave his patented are-you-kidding-me look. “Whoops?”

  “There’s a lot of magic here, or something,” I said with a shrug. “It keeps coming out stronger than I expect.”

  He sighed. “This is why I insist on constant training,” he said. “You must learn to control your abilities, rather than letting them control you.”

  “Uh-huh. So you’re the Sphinx now?”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Never mind. We need to put ‘Mystery Men’ on the list for movie night,” I said. “Look, can we do the training crap tomorrow or something? I’m dead-ass tired, and I know you are too. If I try to focus right now, I’ll just focus on making you shut up so I can get some sleep.”

  Ian chuckled. “Very well. But you will train tomorrow.”

  “Can’t wait,” I muttered.

  We headed into the tent, and I stared at the single bed in the place for a minute. “Okay, I like you and everything, but I’m not sharing a bed with you,” I said. “Maybe we should sleep in shifts.”

  “Honestly, thief.” Ian rolled his eyes, stalked across the tent to grab the top layer of fur from the bedding pile, and spread it on the ground. “I will sleep there. You can have the bed.”

  Great, now I kind of felt bad. “That’ll work, but you take the bed,” I told him. “I’m the one who brought up separate sleeping arrangements.”

  Ian sneered. “If you think I would have slept with you, Donatti, you are out of your mind,” he said. “I will be fine on the ground.”

  “No way. I want the fur. You can have the scratchy stuff.”

  “It is not scratchy! There are several layers of —” Ian cut himself off with a grunt. “Have it your way, then. I am far too tired to argue.”

  I grinned. Being nice to Ian was never a straightforward process, since he didn’t make it easy. But he’d take the nice gesture if it made him contrary to what he thought I wanted. “Goodnight, then,” I said as I settled down on the fur.

  Ian snorted and climbed onto the straw bed, which was actually long enough for his lanky djinn frame. “Goodnight.”

  About five minutes later, I’d finally gotten semi-comfortable when I sensed someone standing just outside the tent. Before I could alert Ian, the tent flap rustled and a small, furry white head poked through.

  “Ian,” I whispered. “We have a visitor.”

  He tensed and rolled over, and the straw rustled as he relaxed. “What a frightening intruder,” he whispered back. “Perhaps we should run for cover.”

  Nylah sniffed the air a few times and walked into the tent slowly, pausing every few steps. When she cleared the flap, she gave a low, contented whuff and scampered across the space, heading straight for Ian. She reared up, planted her paws on his arm, and cocked her head with a questioning look.

  “Hello, qali’zahr,” he said softly. “It is very late. You should be sleeping.”

  Nylah made small, impatient sounds and pawed at him. Then she started to glow.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping, so I wouldn’t scare her. If she’d really stayed permanently in animal form since she was a baby, this was a minor miracle.

  Ian’s eyes glittered as he watched the glow fade from a very small girl with waist-length, snow-white curls, enormous blue eyes and delicate features, dressed in a lacy tunic and loose pants. She didn’t look more than five years old. She grabbed his thumb with a tiny hand, leaned toward him, and whispered, “Can I sleep with you, bala?”

  A vise clamped around my heart. The word she’d called him meant something like ‘father.’

  “Of course you can,” he said thickly, reaching out to lift her onto the bed.

  She snuggled next to him and threw a small arm around his neck, her eyes already fluttering closed. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “You are most welcome, qali’zahr.” His voice cracked as he said it.

  Suddenly, I was glad I’d made him take the bed.

  Chapter 19

  Bright and early the next morning, Ian and I were headed through the woods with Malak and Pahna, preparing to open unfriendly negotiations with the Alqani.

  Malak carried a spear in one hand and a short, curved sword on his belt, and Pahna was armed with a pair of knives. Ian had refused weapons, saying that he was at least going to attempt diplomacy. And if he needed to use force, he had a wolf at his disposal.

  I had my boot knife and another dagger in my pocket, but after last night’s unexpected visitor, I’d dismantled the guns and buried the pieces and the ammo separately. Djinn or human, small children were always curious — and I didn’t want Nylah to get hurt.

  She’d reverted back to polar bear form before anyone else saw her, and Ian had reluctantly left her with the two older girls whose names I finally remembered: Vana and Sabrah. They were the ones who usually kept an eye on her, and they knew she’d gone to the tent. One of them had followed to make sure everything was all right, and left when she knew Ian would take care of Nylah.

  If we somehow made it out of this, leaving that little girl behind was going to break his heart.

  “These woods are very different now,” Malak said as we walked. “They used to be filled with life. Not just the mau-het and the ahsadu, but all manner of birds and beasts.” His features soured. “Now, our hunting parties are luc
ky to return with a single harnaab.”

  The closest I could come to harnaab was rabbit. And even if it was a djinn-sized rabbit, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to feed their whole village. “What happened to the animals?” I said.

  “The border spell. Animals can’t get through the storm.” Malak’s jaw clenched. “It’s yet another issue we have that the Alqani don’t. They may have contained only a portion of the Muhjaad Ocean, but it’s more than enough to keep them supplied with fish.”

  “They wouldn’t even make a trade agreement with us,” Pahna said. “I tried to convince my father, but he’ll never stand up to Meriwa. She’s the real problem.”

  “Is she, now?” Ian said with more than a little interest. “What can you tell me about her?”

  Pahna snorted indelicately. “You mean other than how cold and selfish she is? Well, let me see.” She glanced skyward for a moment. “Meriwa used to be a princess, the princess, ages ago,” she said. “Her mother and father were good leaders, but she was spoiled. And she got angry when the clan decided to expand to a ruling council instead of a single royal family, because it meant she would never have all the power.” Pahna shook her head. “She’s also barren, and she hates children.”

  Ian and I exchanged looks. This could be good news — because if Meriwa really was the biggest problem, the rest of them might actually cooperate.

  Provided we could do something about her.

  “What else do you need to know?” Pahna mused aloud. “She’s very strong, but she hates getting her hands dirty and she’ll only act personally if she’s forced to. She’d rather order everyone else around. Oh, and she will honor very old traditions, no matter how much she hates whoever she’s dealing with — but only because the traditions are violent and humiliating to others.”

  That didn’t sound like good news.

  I was about to ask her what kind of old traditions when I sensed another presence through the ground, someone besides the four of us. They were trailing us, invisible and staying about twenty feet back. For a second I thought it was Nylah, but she was far too young to know anything about stealth. And the mystery djinn behind us was keeping it very quiet.