Elemental Power

by Rachel Morgan

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Ridley said to her. “He’s with us.”

  “So when you said the name ‘Archer’ a minute or two ago, you were talking about this Archer?”

  “I hope so,” Archer said, fixing his dark eyes on Ridley and smiling in that slow, lazy way that instantly made her think of the moment he kissed her last night. Actually, the moment after he kissed her. Their teasing comments, their faces so close together, the way he’d looked at her lips and—

  You’re just like every other girl who’s ever thrown herself at my brother’s feet.

  Lilah’s words were jarring inside Ridley’s head. She tore her eyes from Archer’s magnetic gaze. I’m not, she argued silently. I refuse to be.

  “Anyway, back to the part about me going with you guys,” Malachi said. “If it’s a problem, I could travel a little bit behind you, and we can pretend we’re not together.”

  Dad sighed. “That’s ridiculous. If you’re certain you want to leave, then you may as well come with us.”

  “And he’s coming too?” Callie asked, jerking her head toward Archer.

  “I’m the one who knows where to go,” Archer said. “Well, you could find your way there too, according to the letter you received, so I guess you don’t technically need me. But I’m going anyway, so, as Ridley’s dad said, we may as well travel together.”

  “Oh, you’re Ridley’s dad?” Malachi asked.

  “Yes,” Dad answered.

  Ridley frowned. “Why?”

  “No, nothing. I just didn’t know how this old dude was connected to the rest of us. I mean, no offense, but you are older than the rest of us.”

  Dad let out a weary sigh. “Yes, I’m beginning to feel it.”

  “Okay, so we’re doing this?” Callie asked. “And are we sure we’re not going to be zapped into non-existence by the wild magic out there?”

  “You three will be fine,” Archer told her. “And Mr. Kayne and I should be okay too, as long as we don’t carry any arxium with us. The magic out there does get violent sometimes, but as long as you don’t resist, you’ll be fine. It’s just sort of … testing to see what you’re made of.”

  “Literally,” Ridley muttered.

  “What about food and stuff?” Callie asked.

  “I’ll get food and a few other supplies,” Archer said. “We don’t need much camping gear; there should be abandoned buildings along most of the route. And with the three of you and your, uh, unique magic—” he said that last bit in a lower voice “—we’ll be able to travel much faster. It shouldn’t take us more than a few days.”

  “I can’t do that,” Callie said immediately. “Just so you know. Well, I can to some extent. I did it last night, but it was definitely more instinct than anything else, and I was so scared and confused that I didn’t get too far before I fell out of the air.”

  “I can do it,” Malachi said, “but I’ve never experimented with speed. I don’t know how fast I can go.”

  “Sounds like the wastelands are perfect for all three of you then,” Archer said. “Ridley needs practice too.”

  Ridley remained quiet, grateful he hadn’t said something about her being a basket case of guilt, anxiety and fear.

  “Okay, final question,” Dad said. He looked at Archer. “When is this happening?”

  Archer didn’t speak for several moments. Then he said, “Four days from now? That gives me time to get everything organized. I can also try to find the others whose letters we haven’t delivered yet and pass those on.”

  “Okay.” Dad nodded. “We leave four days from now.”

  16

  Ridley woke with the sky above her. She peeled her heavy eyelids back and squinted at the gathering storm clouds far above. Dark purple rolling into gray, with electric blue zigzagging across the scene. She shifted her body, becoming aware of the hard, uneven surface she was lying on. She blinked a few times as her brain tried to catch up with what she was seeing. But her thoughts were sluggish, half-formed, confused.

  She slowly pushed herself up as she tried to think back—and then saw, with a nauseating jolt, exactly where she was: Outside the city wall. In the wastelands. With rusty vehicles, cracked roads, and the crumbling, overgrown remains of buildings nearby, and Dad, Callie and Malachi lying beside her.

  Her racing heart sent adrenaline shooting through her body, helping to scatter the fog in her mind. She was more awake now, but still horribly confused. How on earth did they get out here? It was tough to judge the exact distance, but they appeared to be several blocks away from the wall, still within the clear zone encircling Lumina City, where some of the ruins had been flattened and cleared while the wall was being built. The decaying remains of civilization began just a stone’s throw behind her.

  Maybe I’m dreaming, was her next thought. I must be dreaming. But her heaving stomach felt all too real. She leaned over as she gagged and almost vomited. Not a dream, she decided. She’d never felt physically ill in a dream.

  As she sat with her hand resting against her stomach, breathing deeply, her brain struggled to rewind. Struggled to figure out the events that had led to this moment. She and the others had finished making plans. Archer had left the bunker, and the rest of them had hung out together before having dinner and going to bed. At least, Ridley had intended to go to bed, but she couldn’t remember that part. Nor could she remember anything since then. Given that she was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes—jeans, a T-shirt, and her favorite jacket with the hood—she’d probably never made it to bed. From the angle of the few rays of sunlight that managed to pierce the clouds, she determined it must be late afternoon. How had she lost almost an entire day?

  “Riddles?” She looked down at the sound of Dad’s voice. He blinked repeatedly as Callie stirred beside him. Then Malachi groaned something unintelligible and slung an arm over his face. “What happened?” Dad mumbled, pushing himself up.

  “I don’t know,” Ridley said. A breeze nudged her hair back from her face. “I just woke up. I can’t remember anything after … dinner? I think?”

  “Yeah, I don’t remember going to bed,” Dad said, squinting past her. “And now, somehow, we’re on the wrong damn side of the wall.”

  “What?” Callie squeaked. She rose to a sitting position, then clutched her stomach. “Ugh, I feel so sick.”

  “Dude,” Malachi mumbled from where he was still lying down. “Someone drugged us.”

  Callie swallowed and whimpered, “Oh my gosh.”

  “You could be right,” Dad said.

  Ridley blinked and inhaled deeply, trying to further clear her senses. “Crap. Do you think they found us? The Shadow Society. Maybe because … because I turned on my commscreen yesterday morning to get your number?” she said to Malachi.

  “You turned it on?” Dad demanded.

  “But that shouldn’t have made a difference,” Callie said. “I asked about that when I first got to the bunker, and Christa said—” Her words cut off abruptly as her body heaved. “Ugh, sorry,” she said when she’d recovered. She sucked in a few shaky breaths and continued, “Christa said it didn’t matter if I left it on. You can’t get a connection unless you’re right up by the entrance.”

  “Besides,” Malachi said, finally pushing himself up and looking around, “if they’d found us in the bunker, wouldn’t they have just killed us there? What are we doing out here?”

  Ridley’s eyes scanned the silvery arxium-plated wall, searching for the gap that led to the canal and the bunker, but she couldn’t find it. “Hopefully this means everyone else in the bunker is still okay. Hopefully Archer’s okay.”

  “Maybe he’s the one who gave us up,” Callie said.

  “That’s definitely not true,” Ridley replied.

  Dad climbed to his feet. “Whatever’s going on, we can’t just sit out here.” He held a hand toward Ridley, and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. “Callie?” Dad said, reaching for her next. As he helped her up, Malachi rose shakily to his fee
t. Ridley looked beyond him into the ruins just as a flash of magic burst out from somewhere amid the collapsed buildings. Callie gasped and ducked her head as the magic shot past them. Ridley turned to watch it rebound off the arxium wall, explode in a burning flash, and disappear.

  “I do not feel safe out here,” Callie said.

  “Magic isn’t supposed to hurt us, right?” Malachi said, though his tone suggested he was far from convinced. At that moment, a particularly strong gust of wind howled past them, as if the elements had heard Malachi and wanted to remind him who was boss.

  “Supposedly,” Ridley said, bracing herself against the wind, which then died down almost instantly. “Dad?” she asked. “We need to go back, right? I know we were going to leave anyway, but Archer’s not with us, and we have no food, no clothes, nothing.”

  “Yes, but we need to be very careful. We should avoid the bunker. Can you get us over the wall as air?”

  “Yes.” Already, she was letting go, watching her hands begin to glow and—

  She doubled over as a fresh wave of nausea twisted her stomach and rocketed up her throat. Dizziness sent the world spinning around her. “I—I can’t—” she gasped, leaning her hands on her knees as she struggled to remain upright.

  “Ridley?” Dad’s hand was on her back.

  She blinked at the ground, vaguely aware of Malachi saying, “I can’t either.”

  “Arxium,” Ridley panted. “I’ve breathed it in before.”

  “Breathed it in?” Malachi repeated. “It’s metal.”

  “Tiny particles. Something like that. They probably put it in … whatever they drugged us with.”

  “Okay, I’m not even trying,” Callie said. “I feel sick and dizzy enough already.”

  “Dammit, they’ve made us useless,” Malachi groaned.

  “It’ll wear off soon,” Ridley told him, still staring at the ground. “Soon-ish. I think. Maybe we can still pull magic from the environment even though we can’t use our own? I don’t know. I didn’t try before. I was feeling too—”

  “Oh, wonderful,” Dad muttered, then added a few more colorful curses Ridley hadn’t heard him use in years.

  “What?” She looked up, and her eyes landed on a handful of people—three men and two women—striding toward them. None in uniforms; all of them armed.

  “Crap,” she said.

  “Okay, I’m gonna try pull,” Malachi said, an edge of panic to his voice. “I don’t know if I know any conjurations that’ll actually help, but—”

  A dazzling flash of magic erupted past Ridley before Malachi could finish speaking. It separated into three blue fireballs, all of which hit the ground just ahead of their pursuers, sending a shock wave through the air that launched the men and women off their feet. Ridley stumbled backward as the pressure change reached them, but the explosion had been far enough away that she managed to regain her balance. Beside her, Dad’s hands were raised, magic wisps swirling around them as he pulled again at the air. His fierce and unflinching gaze, pointed directly at their pursuers, would have scared Ridley if she didn’t know him.

  Crack, ping and smash reached her ears from the ruins behind her, and she realized, just as Dad shouted “Get down!” that bullets were zinging past them. “Close your eyes!” he added as she dropped down to the ground, and she obeyed instantly. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, blinding white light almost seared the inside of her eyelids.

  The next sound she heard was screeching and grinding. The ground beneath her feet and palms vibrated. As the bright light vanished on the other side of her eyelids, she dared a glance at what was going on around her. Rusted vehicles of various sizes were dragging themselves out of the ruins from both sides, skidding forward and crashing together to form a barrier between them and their pursuers.

  “Okay,” Dad said, sounding somewhat breathless as he lowered his hands.

  “Wow,” Malachi breathed. “Whatever the hell that was, I want to learn it.”

  “I’ll show you later,” Dad said, tugging first Ridley and then Callie to their feet. “Right now, we need to run.” They hurried toward the ruins, and Ridley caught Callie’s arm as the older woman almost tripped.

  “Everyone feeling okay?” Dad asked, and Ridley figured the question was probably for all of them.

  “More or less,” she answered, “as long as I don’t try using my own magic.”

  “Feel a little like puking still,” Callie panted as they climbed over a pile of moss-covered rubble that was blocking their way down a broken, cracked road. The overgrown, derelict remains of buildings surrounded them on all sides, the tallest of which had a giant letter K hanging about halfway down.

  They darted past an upturned food cart with vines pushing through it, and Malachi asked, “Do you think they were society members?”

  “Don’t know,” Dad said. “But I’m guessing they thought we’d be knocked out for longer. I’m sure whoever dumped us out here would have made sure we were properly immobilized if they thought we might be able to fight back.”

  “Whoa, stopstopstop!” Ridley cried, pulling Callie to a halt as Dad and Malachi stopped just ahead of them. “What the freaking heck is that?” She pointed to their right between two crumbling buildings, where a dome-shaped metal structure was rising from the ground.

  “Please tell me that’s not a gun on top of that thing,” Callie moaned.

  They hurried back a few paces and ducked behind a bus. But the cylindrical metal shape on top of the dome swiveled away from them and pointed straight up at the stormy sky. A moment later, some form of whitish gray gas spewed into the air. “What on earth?” Callie muttered.

  “I seriously hope that’s not arxium,” Ridley said. “Because it’s about to be blown all over the place, and we won’t—”

  Nausea turned her stomach and sent her head whirling at the exact same moment the weather changed. The clouds darkened and swelled at time-lapse speed, and lightning fractured the sky into dozens of pieces. Thunder cracked and grumbled. The earth shuddered, but Ridley barely had a chance to feel the vibration rushing up into her body before she was knocked clear off her feet by wind stronger than any she’d felt before. She landed hard, her right palm scraping against the ground and pain racing all the way along her right side.

  “You okay?” Dad called, and she rolled over to see that all four of them were down.

  “I can’t breathe properly,” Callie gasped as she pushed herself upright.

  “Damn … arxium,” Malachi hissed.

  “Okay, we need to get inside somewhere,” Dad said. “Away from this stuff.” Wind raged past them, snatching away the end of his words. Ridley blinked through her dizziness and struggled for breath as she looked around.

  “Dad,” she said hoarsely, then tried to shout over the wind. “Dad! There.” She pointed toward a storefront where the large windows on either side of the glass door were both still intact. “I know there’s a hole in the door,” she said as she climbed to her feet, “but we can plug it closed with something.”

  The four of them leaned into the wind as they pushed toward the store with the faded words Walden Shoes across both windows. Ridley fought the urge to throw up. It was almost overwhelming, but they were so close now. Just one more crack in the road, then the crumbling sidewalk, and then—

  And then a car—an entire freaking car—sailed through the air toward them. Dad’s reaction was instant. His hands tugged, spun, and sliced through the air in movements too fast for Ridley to follow. He hurled the magic forward with a guttural cry. The car crumpled in on itself, then exploded in a display of blue fireworks. The sparks fell toward the road, becoming bright blue leaves that were swept away on the wind.

  Malachi launched toward the door and tugged it open. He shoved Callie inside ahead of him, then motioned for Dad and Ridley to follow. Then he rushed inside, banged the door shut and turned to lean against it, covering the hole with his body. For a moment, there was no movement from any of them except for the risin
g and falling of chests. Then Malachi said. “Wow. Wow. Respect.”

  “Yes, well, turns out us ‘old dudes’ are useful for something,” Dad said.

  Callie lowered herself to the floor and hung her head between her knees. “They didn’t teach us conjurations like that at school,” she mumbled.

  “They haven’t taught conjurations like that anywhere in a long time,” Dad said. “Not officially, anyway.” Ridley started pulling her jacket off to plug the hole in the door, but Dad stopped her. “You’ll need that later, and then it’ll be covered in arxium particles. I’m sure a few pairs of socks should do the job.” He moved to the sock display, and Ridley followed him. Dust rose from the fabric as they removed the socks from their cardboard packaging, and Ridley worked hard to keep from coughing. If she started coughing now, she would almost certainly throw up.

  “Okay, you can move,” Dad said, walking toward Malachi with a few rolled-up pairs of socks in his hands. Malachi stepped forward, and Dad stuffed the socks into the hole at the center of the door.

  “Ugh, man, arxium is evil,” Malachi groaned, leaning forward and pressing his palms against his knees. “I feel like I want to hurl out everything inside me.” Ridley watched him reach one hand forward and shakily claw at the air a few times until glowing wisps began to form. “On the plus side,” he said, “pulling magic like any average non-elemental still seems to work. So normal conjurations are still an option.”

  “That’s good,” Ridley said. “At least, it’s good if you’re conscious enough to do it. The first time I breathed this stuff in, it was concentrated enough to knock me out for a little while.”

  “So … can we go back to the part where a car just flew through the air?” Callie mumbled, her face still pointed at the floor. “Was that magic, or are we in the middle of a tornado now?”

  “Magic, I think,” Ridley said, remembering her first time on the wrong side of the wall. “It seems to like grabbing hold of things and throwing them around.”