Elementary

by Mercedes Lackey

  As much as she felt rooted to the mill, she knew it wasn’t the place that mattered, but the family within it.

  “We’ll go to America,” she said. “We can pack our things and leave tonight. You can help us get through the forest and bypass the town, and we’ll go to the city and find transportation there. There are so many people emigrating, we’ll just be part of the crowd.”

  Frieda glanced at Georg, biting her lip, but she was the first to nod.

  “It won’t be easy,” he said, “but you’re right. I’ll help you pack. We haven’t got much time.”

  Klara turned, hands on her hips, and surveyed the mill house, pondering what to take. Nothing more than what they could carry, she knew. Her possessions, though, weren’t the most important thing.

  She had lost Hermann and Otto, but Frieda and Georg had given her a new family.

  A new chance. An opportunity to live again.

  They called America the land of opportunity.

  Here, their abilities were feared. There, they might find acceptance.

  She smiled. Surely some town there needed a baker whose bread tasted like magic, and her two talented children.

  Secret Friends

  Louisa Swann

  San Francisco always made Nettie feel a little topsy-turvy. Nothing was as it should be. Canvas tents stood side by side with raw-looking buildings and grounded ships that had been turned into shops and hotels. Nettie preferred the mining camp outside where she lived with her adoptive Chinese family. In the mining camp, the gold miners had pitched tents. Ever since the gold rush had started a little over a year ago, it seemed that San Francisco couldn’t decide whether to be a camp or a city.

  Nettie sighed. There were more buildings than tents now, and the streets were busy with horses and wagons and people going about their business. The bay was filled with ships of all sizes—some bringing in new passengers and supplies, some readying for a return voyage, some abandoned at anchor when their crews took off for the gold fields. She was happy to see the roads were better than they had been; the muddiest places had been covered with wood planking. No more sinking up to her ankles in the slimy muck. But more buildings meant more places she had to search.

  The midmorning fog was the same as it always had been, thick and damp and smelling of salty fish. Since it wasn’t quite summer yet, there was a chance the fog would burn off later in the day, but Nettie wasn’t counting on it. Sea lions barked somewhere out in the bay, and gulls squawked far overhead as horse-drawn wagons groaned up the hills.

  She turned away from the world of fog and sea lions and stepped through the door of the dimly lit Palace of the White Tigress. She sang quietly to herself, taking strength from her mother’s old lullaby, the song she’d taught her brother Li when she first came to live with her adoptive family. “In the woods not far away, secret friends come out to play . . .”

  The air inside smelled softly of herbs and incense, overshadowing the damp scent of the bay still clinging to her hair along with droplets of fog. She sighed. The lullaby always worked best when she and Li sang together. But her adoptive brother couldn’t sing with her. He was missing, and no one seemed to care. That was why she was out in the streets, searching all the places she’d thought he could be. She’d finished looking in all the places she’d expected to find him yesterday. Now she was going from building to building, looking for someone, anyone, who’d seen her brother.

  Nobody else, not even her adoptive mother, thought Li was in danger, although the doctor he was supposed to be visiting had died in a recent fire.

  “Li is growing up,” Mama Wu had said. “Do not worry yourself about him. He is trying to find his own way. He will return when he is ready.”

  That had always sounded so mysterious and unattainable—growing up. Nettie was growing up, too. She could feel it as her body rounded out in ways she did not particularly like. She’d been swimming and running every day since the weather warmed up, but the dresses she had made during the winter were already getting too tight. And she had let down her hems twice in the last two months.

  Yes, they were both growing up, but that didn’t mean her brother didn’t need her anymore. Nettie raised her chin and moved farther into the high-ceilinged room, cautiously extending her senses.

  She felt the man’s dark shadow before she saw him—a huge man with deep, slanted eyes and a queue almost as long as his tunic. He stood behind a wooden counter, polishing small crystal glasses and setting them carefully on a shelf. Ignoring the sudden knot in her stomach, she carefully scanned the rest of the room. Crystal lamps of all sizes hung from the ceiling, smaller lamps around the outside of the room, and a large chandelier in the center. Silk paintings draped all four walls, and enormous painted vases stood in the corners. Round tables with chairs were scattered here and there. Other than the man behind the bar, the room was deserted.

  Nettie didn’t feel anything bad here, not like she’d felt at the first place she’d looked after leaving behind what Mama Wu called “the respectable part of town.” That first place had smelled worse than sick blankets and dirty men and dead rats all mixed together. She’d barely gotten through the door when a hand had reached out of the darkness, clawing at her arm. A glimpse of cracked lips spread wide over blackened teeth and a whiff of putrid breath was all she’d needed to know Li wouldn’t be in such a place. She’d stumbled out the door and run across the street into another building, her feet thumping on the wooden planks and her eyes burning so badly tears ran down her cheeks.

  It had been the opium, or so the proprietor of the Spider’s Den had told her. The man had helped her dry her streaming eyes without asking why a girl of twelve years was wandering the streets of San Francisco alone. Mr. Bell was a kindly old man who loved spiders so much he let them run free in his establishment. Nettie wished she had found her brother with Mr. Bell. It was the only place she’d felt at home in San Francisco. The old man was not only friends with the spiders, he had little furry manlike creatures he called monkeys and a talkative parrot. He even claimed to have a bear, though it was on loan to a group of traveling entertainers.

  Nettie took another step into the Palace of the White Tigress. It even looked like a palace from the outside, with tall towers and fancy woodwork. Mr. Bell had told her this was a gentleman’s establishment, though Nettie wasn’t sure what he meant. He said he ran a gentleman’s establishment, too, but his was an honest place.

  Implying, perhaps, that the Palace of the White Tigress was not.

  Nettie gathered her courage and walked over to the big man, putting her hands up on the counter she could barely see over. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Wu Li.”

  The big man tilted his head toward a broad stairway at the back of the room and grunted. Nettie dropped her hands from the counter and hurried to the stairs. She climbed the staircase carefully. A pain started deep in her chest, growing more intense with each step. It wasn’t physical pain, Nettie knew that. She was worried that she wouldn’t find Li waiting upstairs. And terrified that she would.

  A long hall greeted her at the top of the stairway. She followed the ornate rug, quietly moving past a row of closed doors, that led to a room in one of the round towers she’d seen from outside. Thick red curtains draped gracefully along the sides of three enormous windows. The center of the room was taken up by a round table, its dark red surface polished to a shine that reflected the teacup-sized white flowers carefully arranged in a round red-and-white vase. Narrow shelves holding a variety of vases and figurines sat against the slender walls separating the windows. The scent of sandalwood incense was stronger up here, and Nettie stifled a sneeze.

  A young man wearing an embroidered Chinese robe topped with a heavy leather vest stood in front of the center window facing her, hands tucked behind his back. The man’s hair hung loose around his shoulders in a style she had never seen before. A woven band across his forehead held th
e hair back from his face, except for two thin sections allowed to drape over the band on either side of his forehead. The hair on top of his head had been gathered together, tied in a knot, then left to hang loose down his back with the rest of his hair.

  Nettie peered at the man’s face and swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. The hair and the clothes were different, but the face was definitely her brother’s. “Li?”

  “There is no one here by that name.”

  Li’s eyes were always full of light and mischief. This man’s eyes were as flat as his voice.

  She moved closer, step by step, until the only thing standing between them was the polished wooden table. She squinted at the man, studying the way he stood, the way he held his chin. Then she grinned. It was her brother, playing another one of his silly tricks. “You idiot. I was so worried. No one knew where you’d gone.” She started to walk around the table. “Mama Wu’s worried, too, though she says she’s not. She even made strawberry pie.” Mama Wu always said Li would climb mountains and swim oceans for a piece of her strawberry pie. Nettie waited for her brother to break into an impish smile, but Li didn’t move.

  “I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else. Now leave before I have you thrown out.”

  Nettie stopped, her chest tightening as if all the webs in the Spider’s Den had dropped down and wrapped themselves around her heart. She drew in a deep breath. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. “Mama Wu said you were studying with Doctor Low.”

  “Even if I were this ‘Li,’ I would never seek teaching from someone like Low.” Li lifted his chin. “He is only an Earth Mage and not a very good one. The White Tigress”—he nodded at the woman who’d just entered the room—“is a great Fire Master. She can teach me things Doctor Low could only dream of.”

  “Doctor Low’s store burned to the ground two nights ago,” Nettie said quietly. “He couldn’t get out. They found his body in the morning. The neighbors said you were gone, but I didn’t know . . . I thought . . .” The words tied themselves into a knot in her throat.

  The woman glided past her, moving around the table until she stood next to Li. “As you can see, my apprentice is just fine.” Not much taller than Nettie, the woman had glittering, almond-shaped eyes like Mama Wu’s, a beautifully round face, and shiny black hair piled on top of her head in a round bun stuck through with sharp-looking needles. A brilliant red comb with gold chains draped across her brow. Her dark red kimono shimmered in the dim light, and the comb seemed to writhe in her hair. She tapped Li on the arm with a folded red fan. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friend?”

  “I do not have any friends.” Li’s face remained expressionless.

  Nettie swallowed again. She watched Li watching her and cringed at the lack of warmth—of any emotion—in his eyes. Li had been excited every time he’d visited Doctor Low. Now he didn’t seem to care that the doctor was dead. She took a deep breath. This wasn’t the boy she’d grown up with, the boy who had held her when she woke crying in the night from unspeakable nightmares. The boy who had wiped blood from her knee when she had tripped over a log, too busy talking to watch where she was going. The boy who had visited the woodland creatures with her, who sang the lullaby so the creatures of the air and stream would come out and play . . .

  “If she’s not a friend, then why is she here?” The Tigress’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  Fear crept up Nettie’s back, all prickly and tingly, as if a nest of baby mice had suddenly decided to clamber up into her hair. She shrieked as something furry darted through the doorway and ran straight at her, lips drawn back from its teeth in an angry-looking snarl. It took her a moment to recognize the monkey she’d met earlier at the Spider’s Den. Why on earth had it followed her here?

  “Get that beast out of here,” the woman said, her voice so cold Nettie shivered.

  Nettie looked down in surprise as the monkey grabbed her leg. The little creature gazed up at her, lips pursed. Then the lips spread wide, baring sharp teeth, and the monkey grabbed her hand, trying to pull her toward the door.

  “I’m sorry,” Nettie said. “He must’ve followed me.” She pulled back, trying to get her hand free.

  The woman flicked long fingers tipped with vivid red nails, and the flowers on the table in front of Nettie burst into flame. The monkey screeched, dropped Nettie’s hand, and bolted back out the door.

  Nettie froze. Part of her wanted to scream and run like the monkey; the other part was fascinated. She stared as the flowers shriveled in the flames and died. A tiny voice whispered in her mind. Magic.

  Was that why Li was here? Because this woman could teach him magic?

  In the air, a sheet of flame the size of a window crackled to life, sending Nettie back a step. Li stood beyond the flame, one hand stretched out in front of him as if pushing her away. The flame sputtered as he lowered his arm, then blazed to life when he brought his arm back up. “I told you to go.”

  Nettie gazed at her brother as he repeated the motion. He was the one making the flames. But what was he trying to do—show her he’d finally learned some magic, or scare her off?

  Ever since his trip to San Francisco last fall, Li had wanted to learn magic. He’d come home with an armload of books he’d gotten from Doctor Low and had spent most of his spare time reading. He started putting names to the unusual creatures only Nettie and he could see, calling the air creatures sylphs and the water creatures nymphs. He’d been excited about what he was learning and claimed he could do strange new things, but throughout all that learning and doing, he’d stayed her brother. Whatever had happened to Li here in the Palace of the White Tigress had changed him. He had learned how to use magic. But at what cost?

  “Was it you, Li?” she whispered, gesturing at the flames. “Did you set fire to Doctor Low’s store?”

  A puzzled look crossed Li’s face, and the flames vanished from the air. He glanced at the Tigress, his eyes wide and uncertain. Smiling slightly, she patted his arm. The uncertainty disappeared, and the coldness was back. He glared at Nettie.

  “Of course not, you little worm. Now begone.” Li thrust his hand out, palm up. Nettie gasped as a ball of flame gathered between his fingers. He tossed the ball up and caught it again. With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the ball at her.

  Nettie leaped backward. The ball landed on the table, spilling across the wooden surface like a puddle of flaming water. She stared in horror as the puddle shrank in on itself, tighter and tighter until she found herself staring at what appeared to be a salamander made of fire. The salamander hissed, then slithered up into the air, weaving its way back to Li. The Tigress’s dark eyes danced.

  Her brother stepped to the edge of the table, his eyes blazing. “There is no one here named Li. Begone!” He thrust out his hand again.

  Nettie backed up a step, then another. She couldn’t leave him here, but she didn’t know what else to do. “You remember our song, don’t you?” she asked in desperation.

  “We don’t have a song,” Li started, but Nettie didn’t let him finish. She couldn’t let him keep shutting her out. Somehow she had to get through.

  “In the woods not far away,” Nettie sang.

  Another fireball grew in his hand as Li’s eyes narrowed. Nettie felt sick. Her voice quavered, but she didn’t stop singing. “Secret friends come out to play . . .”

  He stared at her with a puzzled frown, the fireball slowly spinning.

  “I remember when you first told me our special friends weren’t spirits, they were nymphs and sylphs,” Nettie said in a quiet voice, relieved that she’d finally gotten through to him. “When you told me you were going to learn magic . . .”

  “I am learning magic,” Li said, cutting her off. “Fire Magic . . .”

  “Time for your little friend to leave,” the White Tigress said. Her lips tilted in a slight smile. “Chung Lo wi
ll take care of her. Come.” She took Li’s arm and led him toward the door.

  “In the woods not far away, secret friends come out to play . . .” Nettie sang again, her voice loud and strong.

  The Tigress whipped around and flicked her fingernails. Nettie gasped and dropped to the floor behind the table as fire streamed over her head. One of the curtains behind her burst into flames.

  “Stop!” Li spun around, his face pale.

  Nettie cautiously stood back up, singing even louder. “They make you laugh. They bring good cheer . . .”

  Li stared at her, his lips slowly moving in time with hers.

  “They wipe away the blood and tears. So don’t you worry, don’t you cry. Your secret friends are still close by . . .”

  Li closed his eyes, mouthing the words. His eyelashes glistened. Hope bloomed thick in Nettie’s chest, so thick she could hardly breathe. She started to walk around the table, to go to her brother. She glanced up in time to see the Tigress flick her fingers again.

  The table exploded as Nettie dove behind a group of shelves. She curled into a ball, arms over her face. Pieces of burning wood rained down around her. Pain seared across her bare forearm and then her cheek. She didn’t move, afraid to look up as she started the next verse, pouring her heart into the words. This time she could hear Li singing along with her:

  “Wind will carry you far and wide, warm your bones by Fire’s side.

  Keep your feet upon the Earth, and dance with Rain in merry mirth.

  And if you’re still afraid, my dear, rest assured I will be near.

  My love for you is strong and clear, just close your eyes and sleep, my dear . . .”

  Flames cackled like a bunch of old women as little fires blazed throughout the room. Nettie slowly uncurled herself. Li gazed around, looking like someone who’d just woken from a strange dream.