by Paula Lester
The stupid smoke alarm. Her ex-husband had installed it in the bedroom. She’d thought he was crazy at the time—putting smoke alarms in almost every room in the house. Now, she cursed him while rubbing her eyes. As if she’d needed to lose more sleep because the alarm needed a new battery.
But the alarm only beeped when the battery was low, and this was a long, sustained, obnoxious horn sound.
Wait. Was that smell of smoke?
Cas leaped out of bed, fully awake. Shadows danced across the walls and a strange light flickered. The drapes hanging on the window across from the bed were on fire!
She shrieked and stood bolted to the spot, unsure what to do. Then she raced for the door, sprinted ten feet down the hallway to the cupboard there, and dropped to her knees. Where is it? Where is it? Suddenly, the smoke alarm in the hallway added its blaring noise in solidarity with the bedroom one. Smoke filtered out of her room. Cas frantically pulled a pile of sheets out, pawing around the back of the shelf. Nothing. She leaned over as far as she could and peered back into the dark depths of the bottom shelf of the closet, where she spotted a flash of red.
She pulled the fire extinguisher out, sprinted back to her room, and fumbled with the clip until she managed to pull it off. When she pressed the lever, foam shot out of the extinguisher straight at the ceiling. Yelping, she adjusted her aim until it sprayed toward the curtains instead.
The fire was out in less than ten seconds. All that was left was smoke, dripping spray foam, and scorched paint on the ceiling above and the walls on either side of the window.
Cas stared at the damage, trembling. Had she done this? Had she started the fire with her magic? It seemed like the most likely answer. She didn’t feel a magical hot flash at the moment, but she could have had one while she was asleep. Maybe the power had discharged in response to something in a dream, catching the drapes on fire. Was that possible?
Or maybe she was a fire elemental witch. But Auburn had said water witches couldn’t produce fire from nothing. Was that true for witches whose primary element was fire too? She didn’t know, but fear flooded through her at the thought that she could have died if the smoke alarm hadn’t alerted her to the fire when it did.
Setting the fire extinguisher down and squeezing her fists into balls, she forced back the fear, which was not productive.
Cas grabbed her phone and called 9-1-1. Someone needed to make sure there wasn’t still smoldering within the walls that could reignite later. She got dressed and went downstairs to wait for them to arrive.
She made a pot of coffee and scrambled a couple eggs. By the time she was done with the dishes, the firefighters were finished. They told her the blaze was completely out, but they had not been able to determine what started it. They suggested she call an electrician to inspect the house’s wiring, but Cas very much doubted that was necessary.
When Echo came in through the cat flap in the back door, he wrinkled his delicate nose. “What’s that smell?”
“The drapes in my bedroom were on fire when I woke up this morning,” Cas answered. “I put it out with a fire extinguisher. Now I have to get all the damage in my bedroom fixed.”
Somehow, he made his cat face appear troubled. “Did something happen in your sleep?”
She shrugged. “That’s kind of what I figured, but I don’t really know for sure. I had a hot flash yesterday evening, but I didn’t wake up with one or anything.”
“Cascade, you must get this under control.”
She glared at him. “I’m well aware of that, cat. I’m doing the best I can, but no one who knows anything can seem to get a handle on how to help me. No one gave me a manual or anything when my powers got delivered to after a few decades.” She plopped down on the couch, pouting.
“I regret being absent. Today, I’ll go to the council and demand a replacement mentor for you.” He rubbed on her leg with his face. “Until then, it will be best for you to remain at home. Close to my food bowls. Unless you have a better suggestion?”
“I’m tapped out on ideas.” But then she did have a new thought. “Hold on.” She grabbed her phone and checked it. Sure enough, a text from Graham shimmered on the screen. There was a number, an address, and the name Strom Solder.
Taking a deep breath, she tapped the phone number and held the cell to her ear. When a man answered and verified that he was Mr. Solder, she told him Graham had suggested she get in touch with him as a possible mentor.
“I’ve been expecting your call,” he affirmed. “Can you come by my property tomorrow afternoon? I’d be happy to help you discover whether you’re one of the great ones—a fire witch.”
Once they’d agreed on a time, Cas hung up and looked at Echo. “I think this might be the one.”
If the fire in her room that morning was any indication, Strom Solder should may be the answer to her prayers. Or else.
Chapter 13
Cas spent the rest of the day and the following morning sanding down the paint on the walls and ceiling in her bedroom. It turned out to be all the ceiling needed besides paint, but a piece of drywall on each side of the window needed to be torn out and replaced. The tearing out was easy, but she’d need to get to the home improvement store to buy the drywall and some tape, drywall mud, and primer. Luckily, she still had some paint left over from when she’d redone the bedroom.
The curtains were a complete loss. She threw them in the trash along with the old, charred drywall before getting ready to meet Strom.
It felt good to get out of the house and away from the smell of burning fabric and paint. Echo had claimed he’d given the council the riot act and demanded they find a suitable instructor for Cascade. Then he left for the evening and hadn’t found his way home yet. Maybe she should talk to the council about the cat. Not that she wanted him to get into trouble. He wasn’t a good guardian, but he did make good company. At least when he was home. Cas left most of the windows open so the place could air out while she was gone.
When she pulled up to the address Graham had provided, Cas felt uneasy. There were several huge, intimidating, industrial-looking structures around. The property was otherwise quite barren. There wasn’t any grass or trees or shrubs of any kind. Everything was brown dirt and rocks. She stepped out of the car and shaded her eyes to look around. Sun glinted off all the metal buildings.
Then, a movement high up the side of one of the buildings caught her attention. She stared, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. As her eyes adjusted to the sun, she realized someone was climbing the metal structure. The person must have been twenty stories up, and Cas couldn’t help but think of Spider Man. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she hurried forward into the building’s shade for a better view.
The figure climbed a little more and then pushed away from the building and dropped several stories. Cas gasped but realized that it was a rappel maneuver. She stepped back and watched, making out that the climber was a man when he got to within ten feet of the ground.
He landed, creating a puff of dirt, and then fist-pumped the air and whooped. He laughed and unbuckled the harness. “Oh, hallo,” he said with a thick Australian accent. He was handsome, but she could see tobacco packed into his lower lip. “You must be Graham’s Cas. Howdya do?” He stuck out a hand, and she shook it, trying not to feel irritated he’d pegged her as belonging to someone else.
Allowing a mild reproach into her voice, she said, “And you must be Graham’s Strom.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to realize he’d been offensive, but he just grinned and spit juice onto the dirt.
“Well, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I thought I’d get a climb in before you got here but I must have misjudged the time.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m not in a rush.”
“Great, great. Well, come on back, and I’ll show you around.”
He began to move around the giant metal building and Cas followed him. “What is this place?”
“It’s a demolition test site.” As th
ough on cue, a loud explosion rent the air and rocked the ground under their feet. Cas’ hands flew to her ears. Strom ducked into a doorway in the building next to them and returned with two hard hats and safety earmuffs. Handing her one of each, he said, “Here you go. These will help.”
She put them both on, wary of hearing loss or getting harpooned with shrapnel.
“Anyway,” Strom said, slapping his helmet and muffs on. “I’m a demolitions expert, and I help test explosives to bring down buildings, use in mines . . . that sort of thing.” He turned toward her and winked. “I’m also a fire elemental, which I believe will be of more use to you than my regular job.”
He had a dimple when he smiled, and she thought maybe the guy was a little bit charming after all. She still didn’t like being referred to as Graham’s. Their fight last night added to the sting of the title too. But maybe Strom hadn’t meant anything by it.
“So, you like climbing, huh?”
“Oh, I like anything that’s a couple feet over the danger line. Bungee jumping, base diving, spelunking. You name it, I’ve done it.” He puffed out his chest and she wondered for a second if he might pound on it. His shoulder-length, wavy blond hair framed full cheeks. The hair was pushed into the sides of his face by the helmet straps. “I don’t really feel alive unless I’m one breath away from dying.”
Cas thought that was an interesting life philosophy. She’d never been into extreme sports herself, preferring mostly to keep two feet on the ground. The most adventurous she’d gotten was doing some downhill skiing.
She followed Strom past all the buildings onto a flat, desolate dirt field marked only by a few wall-like barricades made of a transparent material. He turned and grinned before spitting tobacco juice on the ground again. “Fire is life,” he said with gusto. So far, he’d said everything with passion, and she wondered if he did anything without it. “All life began with fire.”
Cas chuckled to herself, remembering Primo’s and Kopper’s assertions that life had begun with their preferred elements.
“Without fire, humans would never have evolved past grass chewing hairy-men. Now.” He grinned, reminding her of a young boy getting ready to do something a bit naughty. “Let’s blow something up.” He pulled a matchbook out of his pocket, tore out one match, and held it up for her to see. “All fire elemental witches can turn an orange flame blue. Fire babies do it accidentally before they can talk or walk. It’s just a matter of turning the heat up on the flame an intsy bintsy bit. If you’re a fire witch, you’ll do this easy peasy.”
Strom handed over the match and matchbook. He then crossed to the closest barrier, where he picked up a bronze-colored bowl and a handheld shield, also transparent, from a table behind it. He handed them to Cas too. The bowl contained a small stick.
He leaned in and spoke in a loud whisper. “I put a wee bit of accelerant on the stick to make sure it lights up really quick-like for you. Just get it going, put the shield between you and the bowl—just in case, you understand—and then make the flame turn blue. Easy peasy!” He clapped her on the shoulder too hard and headed off to stand next to the barrier wall.
She narrowed her eyes. Why did he need to be near a protective wall? And for what reason would she need a shield? All she was doing was lighting a small stick on fire and making the flame change color. How could that possibly be dangerous—especially when there was nothing else the least bit flammable in the area?
A flashback of riding a tidal wave of cherry-soda hit Cas. “Listen,” she said, “some really weird things happened when I was tested for the other elements. Things sort of went really loopy.”
“No worries. I love me some loopy. Though, keep that shield handy, love.” Strom waved for her to get on with it.
“Okay, can you tell me exactly how I make the flame turn blue? Should I say a spell or picture it in head or do some hand movement or something?”
Strom shrugged. “Nope, none of that. Do what comes natural. Like I said, babies do this by accident. Set my mum’s kitchen afire when I was still sucking on a binky.”
When Cas stared at him with a blank look, he continued. “Alright, alright. The flame will call to you. Not in a sing-song kind of way, but it’ll take over your senses until you feel like you and it are the same.”
Cas wet her lips, unsure. Fire was dangerous. Her eyebrows were fine right where they were, thankyouverymuch. Despite her reservations, she set the bowl on the ground, lit the match, and dropped it on the stick.
Then she sat cross-legged and held the shield between her and the bowl while, watching the flame take hold of the stick.
Here we go, she thought. The flame will call out to me. The flame will call to me. She repeated it a few times, staring at the burning twig.
After a few seconds, the fire wasn’t doing anything but burning the stick and ignoring her. She continued to stare, but just like when Cas did yoga, her mind drifted. How did Graham know this guy? Graham. Maybe she was just being insecure. But no, he was hiding something. And she’d had enough of that during her marriage. Cas tsked out loud. Men! They were so complicated when things could be easy!
“Hey, are you focusing?” Strom called.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m focusing,” Cas murmured and returned her attention to the stick. “Okay, fire. Speak to me. Turn blue, turn blue, turn blue.” After a few beats, she called out. “Nothing is happening.”
Fragments of disappointment settled into her joints. Another loss. So, what did that leave? Air? Maybe Graham knew an air witch that could be of help. She wondered what he was doing now. Did he really have something going on with that Lumen? The thought made Cas grind her teeth.
The flame popped. Cas had been staring at it unseeing, lost in her thoughts. The sound drew her attention back, and...yes! The flame had grown but it danced and sent tiny sparks over the rim of the bowl.
But everywhere a spark touched earth, the ground rumbled.
“Um, Strom?” She glanced at him. His brow was wrinkled, making him look puzzled.
The flame engulfing the stick extinguished itself with an air-gulping sound. But the ground continued to grumble, a sound that came from deep beneath with the earth.
The ground shuddered once, twice, and then stilled into silence.
Cas let out a whoop of relief and stood up. “Whew, I was scared for a sec—"
The ground erupted. Earthen mounds shot skyward. The noise was almost deafening, even with protective earmuffs on. Cas threw her arms over her head. Strom dove behind the protective wall.
More earth mounds rose from the ground in front of Cas’ shield until there were at least twenty about six feet tall. And then, all at once, their tops all blew off like volcanoes. Cas shrieked and ran for the protective wall.
A yellow pom-pom rolled to a dusty stop in front of Cas. She wheeled to a stop, open-mouthed. Another loud pop drew her attention. The top of the closest little hill closest had blown off and a stream of yellow flew out of the cone-like top. Only it wasn’t lava. It was a bunch of yellow balls of fluff, like a child might use for a craft. Cas dropped her arms and watched as, one by one, the top of each mound blew its top.
The sound of Strom’s bellowing laughter filled her ears. She turned over to see him sitting on the ground, his face red as he cracked up. She was glad the hills weren’t spewing lava but didn’t find it as uproariously funny as the Australian demolition expert seemed to.
Once the hills stopped exploding craft supplies and relative silence reigned again, Strom wiped his eyes and got up. “I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not a fire elemental. That was awesome, though. Made my day.”
“I’m glad I was able to amuse you.”
“Sorry. I’m sure you were hoping fire was your element—who wouldn’t want to have an affinity with the most powerful force on the planet? Plus, you would have had the pleasure of working with me.” He turned his head to spit tobacco juice again, making Cas kind of glad he wouldn’t be her mentor.
Strom walked her back to the Chevy, and she handed him the hard hat and ear muffs. “Thanks for your time today,” she said. “I appreciate you testing me.”
“No problem. Graham’s a decent bloke, and I’m happy to do a favor for him.” He turned and started to walk away as she got into her car, but then he stopped and spun toward her again. “Hey, good luck at the debate tomorrow. Everyone’s quite interested in what you’ll have to say.”
She watched him enter the huge metal building and then got into the car. She’d completely forgotten about the siren debate the next day. The thought of going and talking in front of a huge crowd of witches, shifters, and who know what other types of supernatural people made her stomach do a jig. She pushed the nerves away.
After all, it didn’t really matter whether she was good at public speaking or not—she didn’t have to convince anybody to vote for her.
And she had other things to think about, anyway. Like how to not implode and take the entire town with her.
Chapter 14
Cas checked the clock on the dashboard. She had some time before she needed to meet with Ray’s people. Maybe she’d stop for dessert at her favorite shop. She hadn’t been there in a while and failing three element tests had left her feeling sorry for herself.
But then an image of Sheriff Lloyd accusing her of having something to do with Desi’s death flashed through her thoughts. It was pretty clear he had his mind made up that a water witch had killed the real estate broker, but Auburn Moss had indicated that was not a smart idea. Who was right?
Cas rolled it over in her mind. Water witches used that element to enhance their spell-work. They didn’t create it out of thin air. And there hadn’t been a mess of water in the room to indicate someone used running water to drown Desi.
Lloyd might think a water elemental was the murderer, but Cas had a few suspects of her own. Maybe if she went back out to the lodge and took a look at the room the man had died in, she’d find something the sheriff and his people had missed.
