Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2)

by Sundin, Jesikah

  Hanley winked at Coal and breezed out of his office. “You’ll travel to N.E.T. in a week or so. I’ll call you and give you the details once I have them,” Hanley said over his shoulder, then climbed the stairs whilst whistling a merry tune.

  Time stilled as Coal waited for Hanley to disappear. Then, it sped with vengeance as he leapt up the stairs, rushed past Lynden and her tutor, out the French doors, and across the lawn to the waterfront. He took his shoes off and chucked them toward the house, allowing his feet to sink into the cool, graveled sand of the small beach. Tears burned and blurred his vision, and he quickly wiped them away.

  The half-eaten apple turned in his hand, and Coal watched the gold-red colors shift to shades of ivory as his fingers spun the fruit around and around. To deny Leaf, Willow, and Laurel the right to live was not akin to savoring the sweet and sour moments of life. Nor was turning healthy confessions from good, respectable individuals into babbles of delusion and then punishing them for it. Nor allowing one’s wife to tarnish her reputation by incorrectly diagnosing entire families as sick when they were whole.

  The water’s surface glittered with a soothing rhythm. Coal bit into his apple once more. He chewed thoughtfully as sweet and sour danced with delight upon his tongue. The energy billowing in him needed an outlet, and so he swiveled toward the house and marched to the garage, retrieving his shoes along the way.

  Within minutes, Coal had suited up properly. An electric forge sat in the corner, and he programmed the desired temperature. Ideas swirled in his head as he looked at the small copper ingots. His mind drew images of what he could create, the designs flowing to his hands and pouring into each finger. Safety glasses tinted the surroundings yellow, a befitting film through which to see the world as Golden Boy, he internally quipped. Satisfied, he went to work melting iron to pound into forms for the copper he would use. The familiarity washed over him and, for an afternoon, Coal forgot the pain of reality as he thought only of his family, of Leaf and Oaklee, and of his childhood home.

  Sometime later, he turned off the hand-held torch and pulled the visor from his head. Questions and enigmas still burned inside of him, and his mind flirted with confusion. The sun had set, and Coal pivoted toward the thin stream of light from the corner lamp in the garage.

  Why had his mother and father entered New Eden Township?

  Why did they choose to raise a family secluded from the world, and separated further by an entirely different civilization?

  Originally, he had considered his father responsible for the forming faction. But he knew his father would never wrest power from Leaf, especially now that Ember was The Aether’s wife. Not only that, it truly was not in his father’s nature to begin with, a notion he finally could acknowledge with a clearer head.

  Coal removed his gloves and pulled the Cranium from his pocket. He placed it upon his ear and, within a few swipes, pulled up the image of his mother. He stared into her bright blue eyes as if answers might be hidden somewhere in their still-framed depths.

  “Hey, Mr. Awesome. Fangirl?”

  A shadow lined the doorway, and he startled upon spotting Lynden.

  “Hey.” Coal lifted his finger to turn off his Cranium.

  “Let me see her.” Lynden approached and leaned her head against his. “She’s pretty, in an old-fashioned way.”

  “This is my mother, Camilla Leigh Hiddleston Hansen.”

  Lynden lifted her head and studied his face and the image. “I would’ve never guessed.” She flipped the strand of hair falling over his eye and then leaned on him once more. “Mama’s boy?”

  “I never met her, actually. She died right after Ember was born. It was a miracle I survived.”

  “I’m sorry. Wow.”

  Coal turned off his Cranium and nudged Lynden off with a lopsided grin. He wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt. “Is dinner ready?”

  “God, you’re always hungry.” She rolled her eyes. “Selah is determined to introduce you to sushi tonight, even though it’s just us.”

  “I will be there shortly. Thank you.”

  Lynden walked over to the workbench and inspected the scattered bits of his project. “Dad and Mom left an hour ago.”

  “I am sorry to have missed them.”

  “Yeah, I guess your good social skills have a limit. Does the guilt burn yet?”

  “Fiercely.”

  “Poor Coal.”

  He whispered, “Indeed.” The ache of holding in lies hit him once more. He sucked in his bottom lip a few seconds and then attempted a polite smile.

  “So, this is blacksmithing?”

  “In a way.”

  “I always pictured burly shirtless men wielding large hammers. Overcompensating for other deficiencies, of course.” Coal burst into laughter and slid her a sly side-glance. She maintained a bored expression. “I guess you’ll do.”

  His smile widened and her face relaxed as she eyed him curiously, twisting the ring on her thumb. The guise of irritation returned just as quickly as it disappeared. With a flip of her hair, she spun toward the door with cat-like movements, graceful but with marked attitude. The chains on her black skirt and demi-pants clinked with each step. He watched until she faded through the doorway and then focused his attention on tidying up.

  A few minutes later, he walked into the dining room. Selah, the hired cook for the Nichols family––and a human helper no less––rolled up a woven mat with slow precision. Black, glossy hair dangled over her face, and her caramel skin richened under the ambient lighting she preferred when cooking. The tantalizing aroma of unknown, foreign spices and herbs lulled Coal’s senses into a state of bliss.

  “Are we to eat reeds for dinner?” Coal waltzed into the kitchen and gestured toward the mat as he nabbed an orange slice from a platter, promptly tossing it into his mouth.

  Selah looked up with an amused expression and returned attention to her fingers. “If you steal another piece from the platter, I’ll whip you with my towel.”

  “How pleasant,” Coal managed while chewing. With a playful look, he grabbed another orange slice as Selah snapped her hand towel his direction. He dodged and then planted a kiss on her cheek as he sneaked another slice, popping it in his mouth with a charming smile for show. Selah smiled and humorously shook her head.

  Coal’s eyes roamed the kitchen and dining room. Nerves tingled in each limb, and he almost wished he had time for another jog. His stomach, however, had different plans, grumbling with impatience. “And what are we feasting on this night? Lyn mentioned sushi?”

  “Tonight, you will enjoy a traditional meal from Japan, which is both nourishment for your body and for your soul. Sushi is a work of art.” Her dark brown eyes met his as she applied light pressure to the mat. “Ramen noodles in a savory algae broth is first course.”

  “Algae broth?” Coal issued a skeptical look. Selah smiled. It was a subtle look of mirth, both friendly and mysterious. Another ache released a flurry of anxiety as he thought of Ember, which led to worries over Leaf, which conjured images of Oaklee, and his heart could manage no more.

  Lynden walked into the kitchen that moment and arched an eyebrow at Coal, the dull, unimpressed look almost humorous. She slumped into a seat at the dining table and fingered long white sticks, the tips resting atop a narrow, slightly curved piece of pottery. Then, she gathered her hair in a bunch and whipped it into a ball, colors popping haphazardly, and pierced the white sticks through at angles to hold the hair in place. The look was strangely beautiful, and Coal eyed Lynden with appreciation when the ever-defiant chunk of blood-red hair fell across her eye and curled at the tip.

  Selah retrieved another pair of sticks from a drawer and carried them in her palms as she delivered the platter of sushi to the table.

  Lynden accepted the sticks with a tight head nod and said, “Arigatou gozaimasu.”

  “Dou itashimashite,” Selah replied. Then, she brought over two steaming bowls of soup, the broth a bright, lively green hue. The cook
flicked Coal a quick, mischievous look, and walked away. He remained still, back straight as Selah returned with a separate platter, displaying various fruits and raw vegetables.

  “Do you have sake?” Lynden asked.

  “With your parents away—”

  “Whatever. It’s not illegal to drink in your own home. Dad placed it on the menu, right?”

  “Yes, Ms. Nichols.” Selah delivered two small cups and poured a chilled, clear liquid half-way as Lynden gripped the demitasse cup with one hand, supporting the base of the cup with the other. Coal watched and held his cup the same way as Selah served him. “Sake,” she said. “Rice wine.”

  “Thank you,” Coal said.

  Lynden downed the liquid as if mere water. Curious, he brought the cup to his lips and sipped. Sweetness tingled on his tongue and warmed his mouth, and Coal nodded in appreciation, never tasting chilled wine before, much less wine fermented from rice.

  Selah poured Lynden another cup, placed the flask on the table, and said to Coal, “Per tradition, you will pour for Ms. Nichols in my absence.” With a bow, she walked out of the dining area toward the sitting room. After serving meals, she retreated to allow the family to sup in privacy, returning afterward to clean. Although, Coal had ascertained that full family meals were a rare event. Instead, Selah took pride in serving Fillion, Lynden and, more often than not, Mack.

  The intimacy of a shared meal between just he and Lynden intensified the anxiety and nerves Coal experienced after his meeting with Hanley. Meals were always a communal affair in New Eden.

  An understanding had passed between him and Lynden since Saturday night, and he enjoyed the camaraderie of her friendship. She still clung to him in familiar ways, but never for intimate reasons. Rather, he gathered she was a physically affectionate person by nature. To him it was almost childlike, as grown women did not cling to men in such ways in his experience. Here, however, touching was common practice and even encouraged, a reality he was reluctantly accepting.

  The two white sticks balanced elegantly in Lynden’s fingers. With impressive skill, she used them to select several items from both platters and filled her plate. Coal picked up the sticks and watched her fingers, attempting to mimic her movements. But the sticks fell from his grip and clattered onto the table. Lynden did not look up nor acknowledge his struggle. Instead, she dipped the sticks into the algae broth and pulled out a long string of noodle, which she stuffed into her mouth with as much decorum as one could in such a scenario. Coal attempted to use the sticks again and they fell onto the table and rolled to the floor.

  With a sigh, he reached for an item on the sushi platter and Lynden’s gaze collided with his. The dim lighting and exotic hairstyle accentuated her loveliness, and he faltered for a moment. The silence they shared was almost as tortuous and clumsy as trying to eat with sticks. Unsure of etiquette, he took a small bite into the roll and the other half fell apart in his hand. Lynden groaned and rolled her eyes.

  “I guess I’ll save your ass again.” She plucked a roll from the platter, lightly touched it to a green dab of sauce, and extended the food toward him with an open mouth, as if feeding a babe. Irritated, he set his mouth into a straight line. She opened her mouth wider and made a sound of encouragement, and a laugh sputtered out of him despite his annoyance. Lynden seized the opportunity and shoved the roll in its entirety in his mouth. “You have to eat it in one bite, baka. Otherwise it’s considered rude.”

  “What is that sauce? The heat is incredibly delicious.”

  “Wasabi.” She returned to her food with a posture of indifference. “A little goes a long ways.”

  “How am I to eat the noodles?”

  Lynden arched out of her chair and strolled to where he sat. With her own deft fingers, she positioned his on a fresh set of sticks and, after a few direct instructions, he opened and closed them with success. The idea of using sticks as utensils amused Coal, and he beamed at Lynden with pride. She flicked the black and red strands across his eye and sauntered back to her seat, drinking another cup of sake before sitting down. He offered to pour her another, but she waved him off and poured her own, with an admonishment to start eating.

  Coal wasted little time and filled his plate with colorful morsels. The ramen noodles and algae broth surprised him. It was salty, and carried a subtle onion and ginger flavor that appealed to him immediately. Sushi, he decided, was the food of gods.

  “Catch,” Lynden’s voice sang. A strawberry hit him in the face just as he looked up, and she giggled. She drank more sake and sighed, and Coal believed she may have perhaps finished most of the flask. “Come on, Mr. Awesome,” she teased with an easy smile. “You can do better than that.”

  He lifted a corner of his mouth with amusement as she lifted another strawberry and tossed it toward him. Coal opened his mouth and caught the red fruit, chewing appreciatively. As he swallowed, she tossed another and he nearly missed. She laughed, lifting the cup to her lips. He watched her movements and imagined the woman she would be ten years from now, then twenty years from now, and smiled.

  “What?” she asked in teasing tones. In reply, he shook his head, to suggest nothing of importance, and returned attention to the sushi. She rose in fluid movements and sashayed over to him. A light chortle escaped as she jumped onto the table next to his food. Legs swung back and forth as she lifted a single shoulder, a baffling gesture somewhere between a challenge and bashfulness. Lynden picked up a strawberry from his plate and brought it to his mouth, with a thoughtful look. “Close your eyes.”

  “Lyn,” he sighed. “I think you have indulged in too much sake.”

  Giggles spilled out of her. “Seriously. Close your eyes,” she drawled. “These are not like the strawberries in New Eden. When you close your eyes and chew, they transform.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Indeed,” she replied, mimicking a deep voice and way of speech like his. “I am Coal. I am too stoic for transforming strawberries.” Lynden covered her mouth as she laughed, and then grew playfully serious once more. “I would rather hammer metal to overcompensate for my deficiencies.”

  Coal rolled his eyes and quirked a smile. “You dare mock me?”

  “Sensitive about it?”

  Not wishing to flush over her borderline humor, he cleared his throat to announce he was ready, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. Laughter sputtered from Lynden, and he thought perhaps she snorted. This was the first time he had ever seen her drink. She passed up alcohol every time it was presented, and he found her drunken state rather endearing. An object touched his tongue and he slowly bit down, smiling when tasting a piece of sushi flavored with wasabi.

  “OK. Open your eyes!”

  He obeyed, his focus resting on her face, her eyes wide and her bottom lip sucked in as she strained to contain the spirited chuckles he knew would erupt at any moment. To go along with her story, he enriched his speech and asked, “Pray tell, when eyes closed, how doth strawberries transform into the decadent food of mermaids?”

  A hand covered her mouth as she laughed, and she situated her foot on the chair next to his thigh as she leaned forward in merriment. “Are we under the ocean?”

  “Swimming blissfully unaware of the world above us.” Coal sobered with his comment, recalling the aquarium at N.E.T.

  Who was the territorial fish demanding a change in leadership?

  Anxiety bubbled inside of him and he furrowed his brows. By allowing Hanley to accomplish his plan, Coal felt like an accomplice. The aftertaste of dishonor spoiled his desire to eat, and he looked away.

  “Sad Coal is sad,” Lynden said, spurts of laughter seeping between words. Before he could reply, she leaped off the table and into his lap. Arms, bound mummy style in white strips mid-way up her forearms, wrapped around him as she nuzzled her face into his neck. “I’m sorry you’re sad,” she cooed.

  He whispered, “How can I be sad when you have gifted me with your laughter?”

  She lifted her head and studied
his face, the longing for affirmation and approval evident in her eyes. “You like my laugh?”

  “It is melodious and magical, akin to chimes in the wind. Faerie laughter, they call it.”

  A subtle, shy smile touched her lips and she looked down at her lap. “Say my name,” she whispered. “I like the way you sound when you talk.”

  “Lynden,” he said, his voice mellifluous. “‘Under the linden tree, on the heath, where we two had our bed, you might find both beautiful flattened flowers and grass. At the edge of the wood in the valley, tandaradei, the nightingale sang beautifully.’”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth parted in a look of awe, her cheeks turning a rosy hue he found most becoming. “Did ... did you just make that up?”

  “It is the first stanza in the medieval love poem, ‘Under the Linden Tree.’”

  “Oh.” She twisted her thumb ring. “What’s the rest of the poem?”

  This time Coal blushed and he looked away once more. “It is a poem about a man and woman who consummate their love beneath the boughs of a linden tree, told through the eyes of the maiden.”

  She arched her brow. “Linden tree?” A quiet giggle trailed after her words and her face twisted with humor.

  “Aye, My Lady. For centuries lovers have professed their eternal, undying devotion beneath the heart-shaped leaves and perfumed blossoms.” Coal shyly met her eyes. “They seal their pledge by carving their initials into the tree of love and truth.”

  “I’m named after a tree of love? Weird.”

  “I am named after carbonized plant matter.”

  “All right, you win.” She laughed, but it died off after a couple seconds and she placed her hand onto her stomach. “I need to lie down. I never drink this much. Oh god. What the hell was I thinking? Never mind. I know what I was thinking.”

  “Allow me.” Coal scooped her up and stood. “Why did you drink so much?” He walked with her toward the stairway.

  “We’re going to the underground tonight.” She snickered, and he knew it was the alcohol. “I’m a joke, you know. The Ticket Girl who wouldn’t put out during her initiation to become a CCG. That’s why he beat me. I let everyone think it was because I was sloppy trying to ticket someone who wasn’t a noob, instead of...” She laughed again, the sound hollow, and the pain echoed through him. “But that’s not why,” she continued. “I realized what a mistake I had made. It was all to see what my price tag was. To feel essential to somebody, even if it was just for a moment. Dumb, right? I didn’t want to be a CCG. I didn’t want to be a Ticket Girl either. Apparently I have standards, and I almost sold them off. But...” Lynden released a heavy sigh, laced with soft giggles. “I don’t have any friends. Nobody wants to associate with me. They’re too afraid of my dad or star-struck by my brother. I’m freaking out over tonight.”