Master of Elements

by Sonya Bateman

  Malak shrugged, still uncertain where we were going with this plan. “I suppose so, but I cannot see how it will be of any use to us.”

  “Oh, it’ll help, because we aren’t going out,” I said. “We’re bringing someone in.”

  Chapter 24

  Returning to the Annukhai village was a mixed victory. At least we had something like a plan now, but there was still a long way to go before we fixed anything. The Alqani council had formerly agreed to help, if we could get the blood they needed — and find a way to kill the Wihtiko.

  While Pahna gathered a few of the older ones and brought the packs full of food to the stone platform so everyone could eat, Malak led Ian and me to the log cabin on the western edge of the village. “This was Khanaq’s home,” he said as we reached the place. “His belongings are still here, including his reflecting stone. Nothing’s been touched inside.”

  “Why not?” I said, surprised they’d left a big, solid building and probably a bunch of supplies untouched for centuries. “Wouldn’t it be helpful to use this place?”

  Malak looked offended. “Khanaq was a great scholar and an honored elder. It would be disrespectful to disturb his property.” His face split into a grin. “Besides, there’s no food in there. I checked.”

  I laughed, watching him produce an iron key from a pocket and fit it into the cabin door. “Good idea. Never let respect stand in the way of a full stomach.”

  “A wise, practical saying.” Malak got the door unlocked and pulled it open. “Is it ancient wisdom from one of your human scholars?”

  “Uh, no. Not exactly,” I said. “It’s from a human thief accidentally making sense, about five seconds ago.”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Donatti made it up,” Ian said, almost laughing himself. “But the advice is quite practical, if a bit … coarse.”

  “Gee. Thanks, Dad,” I snorted.

  Malak’s confusion deepened. “Gahiji-an is your father?” he said.

  “Oh, boy. We really need to work on your sarcasm, kid.” I gestured into the cabin. “Why don’t you go in first, since he was your elderly scholar?”

  “All right.” Malak looked from me to Ian, shook his head, and walked inside.

  Behind the door was a large living room with a central fireplace and several stuffed chairs, a writing desk, and a lot of shelves filled with books and scrolls and small, elaborately carved wooden boxes. Despite the apparent centuries of abandonment, the place seemed inviting and alive, as if Khanaq had just popped down to the corner store instead of going on a centuries-long quest to another world.

  There were doors leading to other rooms, making this the only multi-room structure I’d seen in this place besides the Alqani lodge. And against the back wall of the main room was a tall, oblong shape covered with black fabric that must have been the old mystic’s reflecting stone.

  Malak didn’t pause to look around as he crossed the room to the black-draped object. He pulled the fabric off, revealing a thin slab of red-brown stone about the size of a standing mirror, polished to a high gloss. Djinn symbols were carved into the upper right-hand corner, where the blood for a bridge spell was supposed to go.

  Ian walked toward it slowly and traced a thumb over the carved symbols. “I have not seen a proper reflecting portal in a very long time,” he said with a catch in his voice. “The one that stood in my father’s house was black, larger than this. I spent many nights in front of it, talking to Akila, all the while afraid that her father would …” He broke off, face flushing, as if he’d suddenly remembered that he wasn’t alone in the room. “This will do, thank you,” he said curtly.

  I chuckled to myself at his brief flash of unguarded emotion. Both of us were alike in that way — Jazz was the only woman for me, and Akila meant more than the world to my grouchy old partner.

  But his slip had already sparked Malak’s curiosity. “Who is Akila?” he said.

  I figured Ian would just ignore the question. That was his default when he didn’t want to talk about something. Instead, he smiled and said, “She is my wife. And if I am not mistaken, our relationship has much in common with yours and Pahna’s.”

  “You mean she’s from a rival clan, and her father hates you?” Malak said glumly.

  “Precisely.”

  The young djinn gasped. “I didn’t think — really? You’re not being … what is the word you said. Sarcastic?”

  “No. I am quite serious,” Ian said. “My wife is Bahari, and her father is Kemosiri.”

  Malak’s jaw dropped. “Kemosiri the rayan?”

  “He was prince of his clan, long ago,” Ian said with a slightly puzzled frown. “But for quite some time, he has been not only the Bahari leader, but the head of the Great Council.”

  “He is sahiib of the djinn?” Malak whispered. “And you’re married to his daughter?”

  “Yes.” Ian cocked his head. “Malak ... how long has your village been isolated from the realm?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We relocated to this area before I was born, after the Anapi wars, and never concerned ourselves with the intrigues of the high clans. The barrier storm was created when Toklai was still an infant, and the elders decreed all outside communication be stopped. This life is all we’ve known, at least in my village.”

  Ian looked at me, and I shrugged slowly. I had no idea they’d been cut off for so long. Not even Ian had known Kemosiri as anything less than chief of all the ‘important’ djinn, and he was more than seven hundred years old. But Khanaq seemed to have been a wily old wolf. He must have used this reflecting stone from time to time. It was probably how he knew Ian was on Earth, and decided to reach out to him for help.

  “At any rate,” Ian said, giving no indication of his surprise at the revelation. “I wanted you to know that it is not impossible for you and Pahna to be together. Akila and I have managed it for many, many years under circumstances even more trying than your own.” He reached out to lay a comforting hand on Malak’s shoulder. “Do not lose hope, young one — your love for each other will thwart the schemes of any who are too bound by tradition to give you their blessings.”

  Malak smiled. “Thank you, Gahiji-an. I’ll never give up on her.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” he said.

  I let out a breath and joined Ian in front of the reflecting stone. “Okay, so how are we going to contact Nate?” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t really get a look at his mirror.”

  “Nor did I, but I believe I can recall enough of the surroundings to construct an image. It will help that this stone belonged to his ancestor as well. Finding members of a particular clan is far easier with a stone already attuned to them.” Ian closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then reached out and touched the carved symbols. This time they glowed red on contact.

  “Insha no imil, kubri ana bi-sur’u wasta,” he said, and the solid surface of the stone rippled, resolving to the chair and folding table that had been in Nate’s message. Malak gasped in surprise, staring at the humble dwelling of our reluctant shaman’s place like it was the Cave of Wonders.

  I looked at Ian, eyebrow raised in suspicion. “You didn’t use blood.”

  “Of course not. This is a reflecting stone,” he said, like that explained everything. “They are made specifically for bridge spells, and the carvings already contain the magic that we generate through blood.”

  “Well, that’s handy,” I said with a smirk. “Is there a djinn store somewhere that we can pick one of these up for home? Because I kind of want one. It’d be nice not having to cut myself every time I use a mirror.”

  Ian snorted. “An artifact of this level of craftsmanship was not acquired by handing a pouch of gold to a simple merchant, thief,” he said. “Reflecting stones are typically family heirlooms, passed down through generations. They require great skill to create.”

  Of course they were. But what the hell, I had to ask anyway.

  I craned my neck
closer to the image of Nate’s place, hoping he’d wander into view. “Well, obviously Nate isn’t there right now,” I said. “And we can’t go through to get him. So what should we do?”

  Ian gave an impassive shrug. “We wait.”

  “Excuse me,” Malak said from just behind us. “Who is Nate?”

  “Oh. Er … Nohtaikhel,” I said, hoping I’d remembered that long-ass name right. “Khanaq’s scion, the guy who sent us here. We need his blood for the spell.”

  Malak actually looked a little hopeful. “Do you really think this will work?” he said. “That we’ll finally be free of the Wihtiko, and the border spell?”

  “Yeah, I really think it will.” I wanted to sound confident, but I wasn’t sure I’d pulled it off. “Maybe Nate can help us figure out how to kill that damned thing, too.”

  I didn’t actually believe that, so I was surprised when Ian said, “Perhaps he can.”

  “Right. I’m sure he’s a Wihtiko expert.”

  “He may know more than even he is aware of,” Ian said. “All of his people’s stories and legends were passed down directly from Khanaq. If the scholar had any knowledge of the creature, it would have come to Nohtaikhel through ancestral story.”

  “Like the fairy tales your clan told,” I said, nodding along. “It might be mostly bullshit, but there’s got to be a grain of truth in there somewhere.”

  “Exactly.”

  Malak looked even more hopeful now, and I felt terrible about it. If we messed this up, we wouldn’t just be screwing ourselves — we’d pretty much condemn everyone here to a death sentence. Because if things stayed like this, the Annukhai and the Alqani would eventually starve to death or kill each other, if the Wihtiko didn’t eat them all first.

  “I must tell Pahna about this,” Malak said with excitement. “I’ll go and bring some of the food here, so we can eat too. I will return soon.”

  “All right. We’ll wait here,” I said.

  When he left the cabin, I started dragging one of the stuffed chairs from around the fireplace toward the reflecting stone. “Might as well wait in comfort, right?” I said as I positioned the chair and went back for another one. “I don’t think Khanaq will mind if we rearrange his furniture.”

  “True.” Ian took the seat and waited while I got myself settled, staring into the reflection of Nate’s hut like a security guard waiting for a trespasser. “Well, thief,” he said eventually. “I believe this may be the most complex situation we have ever faced.” His gold-ringed eyes glanced briefly at me before he resumed his vigil. “This is very different from merely fighting for our survival. We may not succeed this time.”

  I really wished he hadn’t said that. My own confidence was on shaky ground, and hearing Ian admit the possibility of defeat wasn’t helping. He wasn’t the giving-up type. “We’ll get out of it somehow,” I said, bluffing my ass off. “But, uh … maybe we should call home and check in, while we’ve got this reflective surface here.”

  “We absolutely will not do that,” Ian said, sounding halfway to horrified.

  “Er, okay.” Usually, touching base with Akila was the first thing he wanted to do when we were out somewhere risking our lives. “Why not?”

  He looked at me like I’d asked if I could stab him a few times. “There are few things worse than knowing a loved one is in danger, and being unable to do anything about it,” he said. “I will not place my wife in that position again. For now she believes nothing is amiss, and we will return safely. I have no desire to rob her of that belief and fill her heart with worry. Nor should you wish such a fate upon Jasmine.”

  That hit me square in the gut, and I hated that he was right. “So what happens if we fail, then?” I said. “Do we just leave them wondering what happened forever?”

  Ian shook his head. “If we cannot destroy the Wihtiko, we will have no choice but to strengthen the border spell and keep the beast contained,” he said. “Should this come to pass, we will contact them only once. To say goodbye.”

  The thought of that managed to hurt me more than Ian’s torture had. How the hell was I supposed to live with never seeing Jazz or Cyrus again?

  The only answer I came up with was that I couldn’t.

  A small, selfish part of me wanted to resurrect the idea of getting out of here before it was too late. Before I could give voice to the thought, I sensed someone approaching the cabin. I turned in the chair and watched the door creak open by itself, felt footsteps crossing the room.

  “Is that you, Toklai?” I said.

  The unseen figure froze. After a moment, Toklai shimmered into sight, wearing a scowl. “How do you do that, anyway?” he muttered. “No one else can see invisibility.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret. I can’t, either,” I said. “But I can sense your footsteps through the earth.”

  He sighed. “So I can’t ever sneak up on you?”

  “Nope. Not even once.” At least he hadn’t brought his spear this time, so maybe we were making a little progress. “Does Malak know you’re up here?”

  “It’s none of his business!” he said angrily, and then looked away. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened with the Alqani. I thought …”

  I understood what he was getting at right away. “You thought you’d come up here and listen in, so you could find out what’s going on,” I said, not unkindly. “Is that about right? You were just trying to eavesdrop.”

  He gave a miserable nod. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you. Twice,” he said, and added reluctantly, “Okay, three times. But … thank you for saving me.”

  Three times? I must’ve missed one of his assassination attempts, but I decided not to share that with him. He might figure out which one it was and try again. “You’re welcome,” I said. “Ian, should we tell him what’s going on?”

  Ian picked up on my game. It was one Jazz and I played with Cyrus all the time. “I do not know,” he said with exaggerated doubt. “He may not be responsible enough to hear such important information.”

  “Yeah, maybe he can’t keep secrets,” I said. “I don’t know, do you think we can trust him?”

  “I am not certain that we can.”

  “You can trust me!” Toklai said eagerly. “I swear, I won’t tell anyone. Please?”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance, and then I relented with a smile. “All right. They’re going to help us kill the Wihtiko and undo the border spell.”

  Toklai’s eyes bulged from his head. “Really?” he said, his breath hitching. “The Alqani agreed to help?”

  “They did, eventually.” I wasn’t going to mention what Ian had to do before they would listen. “There’s a few things we have to take care of first, and then we’re all going to work together. Right now, we’re just waiting for someone we need to break the spell.”

  Toklai pointed. “You mean him?”

  I blinked and turned back to the reflecting stone, to see Nate peering into the mirror from his side. “Hello?” he said cautiously, waving a hand in front of the surface. “Is this some kind of trick? I don’t … oh. It’s you.” A frown eased across his lined face. “Well, I guess you’re not dead.”

  “No. We are very much alive.” Ian stood and walked toward the stone with a determined look. “I have found something of great value to your ancestor, Khanaq, and I believe you will find it interesting,” he said. “Place your hand on the mirror, so that I can reveal it to you.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow. “Like this?” he said, reaching toward the surface. His hand kept going until it emerged on our side. “What the —”

  It was all he got out before Ian grabbed his wrist and yanked him the rest of the way through, and the surface of the stone went blank. “Behold,” Ian intoned, with that same mock seriousness he used to taunt me with when we first met. “The ancestral home of Khanaq is now revealed unto you, Nohtaikhel. You are welcome.”

  “What are you doing?” Nate gasped, shivering as he pulled away from Ian. “How … that’s not possible. What is this
place?” He looked around slowly, and then did a double-take when he noticed Toklai. “Who are you? Is this your kid or something?”

  “I apologize for the lack of explanation, but it is a long story that we do not have time to tell,” Ian said. “The ancestors need your help.”

  Nate shook his head and backed up. “No, thanks. I’ve already helped the ancestors,” he said. “I respect the shamans, but I don’t want anything more to do with ancient magic and prophecy and crap like that. I brought you to the storm. My part in this mess is over. So just … bring me home, okay?”

  “We can’t,” I told him. “You’re stuck here now, just like we are. And the only way to get back is to help us kill the Wendigo.”

  Nate stared at me as the color drained from his face. Then his eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor.

  Chapter 25

  “You’re all crazy,” Nate said in passable northern djinn. He’d started speaking the language without realizing it, when everyone else around him kept using it.

  After he came around from fainting, we’d sat him down and given him the short version of the clan conflict, the border spell, and the Wihtiko. He didn’t want to believe any of it. Right now, he sat by the fireplace with Ian and I while Malak and Toklai stood nearby, watching with fascination like they’d never seen a human before. It seemed they’d forgotten I was one too, but Nate was obviously different.

  I had almost-wolf eyes, or at least close enough to pass. Nate looked completely human, and very lost and out of place.

  Malak had come back to the cabin just after Nate passed out. He’d been angry to find his brother here, and then stunned when I’d lobbied for Toklai to stay. But I was starting to warm up to the younger boy. He reminded me a little of another mischievous orphan who lived to break rules when he was a kid.

  I also didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to a spear through my gut.