Playing With Fire (Power of Four Book 2)

by SF Mazhar

  “Thank God, you’re okay,” Chris said and hugged Aaron. His relieved whisper made Aaron want to hold him tight and never let go.

  “I’m glad you’re okay too,” he said, his words muffled against Chris’s chest.

  Chris gave a little laugh. He pulled back to give Michael a quick but warm brotherly hug.

  “When did you get here?” Michael asked.

  “Ten minutes ago,” Chris replied. “Mandara said you would be here.” His gaze had already picked up Neriah’s presence and turned cold. “But I didn’t know Mandara was a rotten liar. I contacted Scott when I arrived and found no one here. Scott told me Neriah had taken Aaron to find the Blade.” He looked to Kate. “What happened? Why has Neriah brought you back?” He gave Aaron’s empty hands a quick glance. “Without the Blade?”

  Kate shared a look with her brother before holding on to Chris’s arm. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

  She and Michael led Chris into the house, to sit him down before telling him they were ambushed by Lycans. Again.

  ***

  Aaron was sure he wouldn’t be seeing Neriah again for a few days, so it was with great surprise that he spotted him later that same day. He saw him when he opened the front door to welcome Sam and Rose from Salvador. Neriah had personally accompanied them for the trip.

  After exchanging relieved hugs, the twins passed by Aaron to take their things upstairs. Aaron stood where he was, staring at Neriah’s still form at the head of the empty table in the street. He couldn’t stop himself from walking over to him.

  “Neriah?” he called.

  Neriah didn’t move. His eyes remained on the table for another few seconds before he took in a deep breath and turned to look at Aaron. “Hello, Aaron,” he said quietly. “I came to deliver your friends.” He smiled tiredly. “I wouldn’t want you annoyed at me.”

  Aaron smiled. “Thank you.”

  “And I wanted to assure you that I will return soon to accompany you to retrieve your Blade,” Neriah added.

  Aaron shifted from one foot to the other. Judging by the chaos his dad had caused after hearing how their path had crossed with Lycans again, Aaron was pretty sure he wouldn’t be leaving for the Blade of Adams without a major fight.

  But he smiled at Neriah and said, “Sounds good. The sooner I get my Blade, the sooner I can train with it, before Hadrian destroys our realm completely.”

  Neriah shook his head. “Hadrian won’t destroy this realm.”

  “How do you know?” Aaron asked.

  Neriah smiled. He turned to give the table a long look. “Come here,” he said and gestured for Aaron to stand next to him. Aaron stepped forward. “Here.” He took Aaron’s hand and gently laid it flat on the surface of the table.

  Aaron looked at him. “I don’t–”

  “Just relax,” Neriah instructed. “Follow me.”

  Aaron’s surroundings melted as his mind was propelled forward into a memory lifted from the table by Neriah. The day turned to night and Aaron found himself still standing where he was, at the head of the table, but this time it was groaning under the food piled on top. Every chair around the table was occupied. The air was one of jubilation. The mages were definitely celebrating something. Lanterns hovered overhead, giving enough light for Aaron to recognise some faces.

  The first he noticed was actually a young Neriah, seated next to an older, blond-haired man with serious blue eyes. On his other side was a young, handsome, dark-haired man. Across from them was Aaron’s dad. Aaron stared in awe at the young Christopher as he sat laughing with the others, a little blue-eyed baby in his lap. Aaron recognised Ben, his brother. Seated at Chris’s right was Alex.

  Aaron’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at the uncle he never got to know. Alex, looking like the spitting image of Kyran, sat feeding Ben small bits of chicken. From their house came Aaron’s mum, hovering a large platter of grilled lamb chops in front of her.

  “This is the last of it,” she said, settling the dish on the table with difficulty.

  “You outdid yourself, Kate,” said the dark-haired man next to Neriah.

  “The occasion called for it,” Kate replied and sat down. She took Ben from Chris. “We had to mark your brilliance somehow.”

  Laughs of agreement echoed around the table.

  “Don’t encourage him,” the blond-haired man on Neriah’s other side said and the chatter around the table quietened. “What he did wasn’t only dangerous and reckless, but against the rules.”

  Aaron watched as the dark-haired man twisted in his seat to look past Neriah.

  “You know what, James?” he started. “It wouldn’t kill you to pay me a compliment every now and again.”

  James smirked and Aaron was strongly reminded of Skyler. “You would have to do something worth complimenting first.”

  “Whether or not James approves,” Neriah said quickly, seated between both men, “the rest of us agree that you were downright epic today.”

  “I second that,” Chris said.

  “Third,” Alex raised a hand.

  “Fourth it.”

  “Fifth!”

  And so on it went down the table. Aaron watched as the ire melted from the dark-haired man. He grinned. Neriah flashed him a charming smile.

  “Raise your glass,” Neriah said and held up his own, “to Hadrian – the best damn Controller this realm has ever seen.”

  Aaron pulled his hand back and the memory snapped and dissolved before the toast ended. Stunned, Aaron turned to face Neriah. Compared to his younger self, this Neriah looked bone-tired and world-weary. He didn’t speak, but then Aaron didn’t ask him anything.

  They simply stood facing each other until Neriah spoke in a quiet voice. “Sometimes it’s the things we love and were once so proud of that can cause our downfall.” He looked at the table with glistening eyes. “Hadrian knows this realm like no other. He controlled it for most of his life. The last thing he wants is to destroy it.”

  “Then what does he want?” Aaron asked.

  Neriah met his eyes. “He wants to rule it.”

  14

  Pains Of The Past

  The tavern was busy, like most nights. Mages, local and not so local, crowded around rickety tables, laughing and sharing stories. The air was heavy with their chatter, but it was easy enough to ignore if a person really wanted to. The place was dimly lit, with tiny flames burning in the lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

  Sitting at the bar on his own, Kyran idly played with the fire of the lantern in the corner. With a mere twitch of his finger, he pushed the flame to rise up, licking at the glass walls hungrily. Then he shrank it down, pushing it to the brink of extinguishing. He repeated the process, causing a flicker on the wall.

  Getting bored, he stopped and picked up his glass, taking a sip. It had been three weeks since he met Aaron in the City of Hunda, yet his mind still replayed the encounter. He smiled into his glass at the recollection of how Aaron had tried to fight him. If it had been anyone else, Kyran would have knocked them three ways to Sunday for trying to strike him. But when it came to Aaron, Kyran found his antics more amusing than anything else.

  Aaron was obviously angry with him, and Kyran hadn’t expected anything different, but he was thankful that Aaron still listened to him. According to his sources, Aaron had returned to Marwa the very next day after speaking with him. That was all Kyran wanted; Aaron safe, back in Marwa, away from Neriah and his suicidal plans for him.

  His fingers grasped the cool glass, feeling the drops of condensation seep into his skin. The four silver lines across the back of his hand glinted in the dull light. If Aaron remained in Marwa, so would she.

  Kyran lifted the glass and downed the remainder of his drink in one go. He stood up and walked out of the tavern. The cold air of a late-April’s night, whipped at his face and hair. Kyran buried his hands into the pockets of his coat, hunching his shoulders as he headed down the street. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop the
image of her, of her smile, coming into his mind’s eye. Kyran pulled in a breath, willing Rose to leave him alone, to not linger in the corners of his head. It was driving him crazy.

  His footsteps were the only sound in the otherwise empty street. Kyran headed towards Lexi, parked at the end of the footpath. He liked coming here, to the tavern in the small village of Zone J-11. It was perfect for him: quiet and secluded in location, but with enough of a crowd to get lost in. He had needed the break today. If he had spent another minute under the same roof as Layla, he would have killed her with his bare hands, which, as it stood, wasn’t all that difficult for him.

  Kyran grimaced at his own thoughts and shook his head. He was about to pull out his key when he noticed something at the corner of his eye. Kyran turned his head and stilled.

  It was him.

  Standing on the other side of the road, half-hidden in the shadows, was a white-robed Lurker. Kyran narrowed his eyes. Like always, the Lurker had his hood pulled up so his face was hidden. Kyran couldn’t have seen who it was, even if the Lurker didn’t have the cover of the night.

  Kyran’s heart kicked up a gear. He stood motionless, eyes on the Lurker – who in turn was just as still, staring back at him. Ever since Kyran went to Salvador under the guise of being a Hunter, he was certain he had seen this same Lurker on several hunts. Kyran knew all Lurkers wore the same uniform, with the colour of the robes signifying different ranks, so it was very possible he had seen different rank twelve Lurkers. But a strange sense told him it was this same Lurker that he had seen watching him all those times.

  The day Kyran ran into the Abarimons, he had seen a Lurker moments before he spotted the back-footed demon. The Lurker had pointed at the path, the one that no one had noticed because of the thick vegetation. But when Kyran had looked back, the Lurker was gone.

  Sometimes Kyran would catch just a fleeting glimpse of the white-hooded Lurker. But there were moments when the Lurker would stand, like he was now, and just stare at him until Kyran moved. Then he would take off, with Kyran chasing after him.

  It was on such an occasion that Kyran had run after the Lurker, only to lose him through a tear and find himself in the human realm. How Kyran ended up there, in that particular location, he’d never understood. The tear he went through should’ve taken him to different coordinates, but instead he was on a darkened street, standing facing the back of a house, surrounded completely by vamages.

  Kyran forced that memory back, focusing on the Lurker across the street. Slowly, Kyran took one step forward. The Lurker took off like a shot.

  “Hey,” Kyran yelled. “Wait!” Kyran bolted after him.

  The Lurker was running fast, dipping in and out of the shadows.

  “Wait,” Kyran shouted after him.

  The Lurker ran down two streets and then turned the corner. Kyran wasn’t far behind him, but by the time Kyran reached the corner, the Lurker had disappeared from sight. Kyran stood panting, sharp green eyes scanning the street, but it was empty.

  Kyran cursed. What was going on? Why was this Lurker stalking him? More importantly, since the Hunters and Lurkers now knew his true identity, why hadn’t he attacked? Kyran searched his desolate surroundings, watching and waiting for an ambush. Nothing happened. Kyran cursed again. Of course nothing was going to happen. He was in one of his father’s zones. Neriah’s Hunters and Lurkers wouldn’t dare cross their Gate. But then, this Lurker had.

  Kyran gave up and turned, ready to go back. He’d had enough for the night. He took no more than a few steps when he heard it, the faint, distant sound of someone screaming. Kyran looked around. He couldn’t see anything, but he could hear the cries.

  Kyran ran across the street, following the petrified and desperate shouts. It didn’t take long to discover the problem. Vamages, two of them, had a young girl pressed against the wall of a back alley, trying to hold her still so they could sink their fangs into her. The girl didn’t look much older than fifteen, maybe sixteen, but she was putting up a fight. The air swirled around her, kicking up dust and debris, but it wasn’t strong enough to push the demons back. She was screaming herself hoarse, kicking and biting the vamages but she couldn’t get free.

  “We’re the ones that are supposed to do the biting, darlin’,” one of the vamages said, then grabbed her by her blond hair, to hold her still and expose her neck.

  “You know that’s really not fair,” Kyran said.

  The vamages and the girl looked at him, standing at the mouth of the alley.

  “Two against one?” Kyran shook his head. “If you’re that scared of taking on mages, why do you do it?”

  The girl struggled, tears in her eyes. “Please!” she cried. “Help me!”

  The vamages chuckled darkly. “No one’s going to help you, darlin’,” one said. “He’s here to die too.”

  They glowered at Kyran. They were both from a lower rank. They had heard about the Scorcher, but to their misfortune, had never seen him.

  “You wanna make this fair?” the other said to Kyran. “No problem. Come here and even out the numbers.”

  Kyran smirked. “I was hoping you would say that.” He stepped forward, flexing his hands.

  ***

  Being back in the city of Marwa was strange for Aaron. He’d got himself ready for the battle, for the fast approaching war. He had been preparing himself mentally for intense training, for combat, for the fight against Hadrian. Instead, he was back home, helping with the housekeeping, waiting for Neriah to come for him. He had tried asking his uncle Mike if he would help train him, so he could utilise the time. His dad put a stop to it before Aaron could even finish the sentence.

  A few days after Aaron had returned to Marwa, the full moon rendered him, his parents and uncle Mike unable to get out of their beds, as it did all mages each month. Sam and Rose fulfilled the chores for that day and even prepared simple meals for the sick mages. The very next morning, after recovering from the draining effects of the full moon, Kate, Chris and Michael carried on in their quest to make the house habitable again.

  Three weeks had passed like this, but Aaron hadn’t heard anything from Neriah. His parents were acting like everything was perfectly normal, focusing all their time and energy on the house. After it was spotlessly clean, the adults decided to paint and redecorate.

  Chris had healed completely from the Lycan attack, evident by his ease of lifting heavy furniture from one room to the other as they rearranged the rooms. They all worked on the house during the day and sat around the table in their kitchen for dinner at night, instead of joining the rest of Marwa at the communal table outside. They talked about everything but the war.

  It was slowly driving Aaron mad.

  But Aaron’s resolve to stay quiet snapped, when all of them sat down to have breakfast one morning and Aaron noticed the empty chair.

  “Where’s Uncle Mike?” he asked.

  Chris took a moment to answer. “He’s gone.”

  Aaron frowned. “Gone? Gone where?”

  “To meet Neriah,” Chris replied.

  “What for?” Aaron asked.

  “It doesn’t matter, Aaron,” Kate said. “Have some pancakes.”

  Aaron ignored the plate she pushed towards him. “Of course it matters,” he said. “Why is Uncle Mike talking to Neriah? Is it about the war?”

  “Aaron.” Chris turned to him with serious eyes. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “You know it does,” Aaron replied.

  “No,” Chris said. “I don’t care what Neriah says. You’re not fighting. You’re only fourteen, you’re a kid.”

  “Have you had a look around?” Aaron asked. “There are plenty of kids fighting this war.”

  “That doesn’t make it right,” Chris replied.

  “I agree,” Aaron said. “But that’s all that’s left. The adults have either been killed–” He stared at his dad. “Or scared off.”

  Chris looked stunned and somewhat offended. “Aaron!”

&nb
sp; “I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Aaron said. “You got scared because of what happened to uncle Alex and Ben, but losing family doesn’t give us a right to stand back. Others have lost family too, but they’re fighting back. That’s what we should do.”

  Chris leant against the table, his eyes bright with anger. “We will fight,” he said. “I will fight. Your mum, Mike, all of us will fight this war, but you won’t.”

  Aaron’s temper slipped from his grip. “You don’t get to decide that,” he said. “Not any more. You don’t get to order me around.”

  “Excuse me?” Chris asked with narrowed eyes.

  “You can’t keep me from being a part of this world, Dad. Not like you’ve been doing all my life!” Aaron said, his voice rising with his anger.

  “Aaron,” Rose whispered and tugged at his sleeve but Aaron pulled away, ignoring her.

  “I know you’re scared for me,” Aaron continued. “I get that, I really do. But you can’t force your fear on me. I want to fight. I want to stand with the rest of the mages, with the Elementals, and I have that much right. Our family’s Blade can make a big difference to this war and I’m the only one who can use it, so why are you stopping me? We’re Elementals, Dad. We’re meant to help, to protect–”

  Kate shot out of her seat and ran from the kitchen. Her abrupt departure made Aaron stop and stare. Chris rose from his chair, as if about to chase after her, but he didn’t move from the table.

  Aaron took in a deep breath. “All I’m asking is for you to let me make my own decisions,” he said, a little calmer. “To let me do what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Supposed to do?” Chris asked, his brow furrowed with anger.

  “Mages came to this world to fight,” Aaron said. “That’s our purpose. That’s what you’re keeping me from doing.”

  “Your purpose is to live past the age of fourteen,” Chris seethed. “Alright? Leave the war to us.”

  “I can’t,” Aaron said. “I won’t sit back when I know I can bring something to this fight. I’m an Elemental, Dad, a legacy holder. Like it or not, the Blade of Adams is meant for me. I can fight. All I need is some help, some training–”