by Kara Jaynes
Stella considers this, her nose scrunched, but she then shakes her head. “No, I better stay here, in case Quinn needs me.”
I want to tell her that there’s nothing she can do to help her brother that we elves can’t do better, but I know Stella well enough to understand she’s unreasonably sensitive about the matter.
“Very well,” I reply. “I shall return shortly.”
Stella smiles hesitantly at me, and I swallow hard, my heartbeat picking up speed under her gaze. For someone I once thought plain, Stella is beautiful. “Okay,” she says. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”
I leave the fortress and take my wind plank. It looks similar in build to a human’s skateboard—having wheels—only a wind plank is longer, has magic-imbued quartz to power it, and a bayonet hidden underneath, unleashed at the click of a hidden button. Not to mention a wind plank harnesses the power of flight, which is very unlike a human skateboard. The edge of the plank curls upward, adding a bit of security that as an elf, I don’t really need. The floor of it is rough, giving ample grip for my boots. There used to be straps, but I removed them in my younger, more reckless days. Besides, I never really needed them.
I’ve owned it for several decades, and it’s my favorite landship, despite the fact that it’s in desperate need of a new coat of paint—black, naturally—and the wheels replaced. It’s old and reliable.
I unhook the crystal comm I keep on my belt and call Geldyn, one of the guards. “Meet me at the north ward of Liberty,” I say.
“Understood, sir,” is the reply.
Then I’m up and off. It’s faster to avoid the streets, but I stay low, wheels occasionally making contact with the ground, forcing humans to scramble out of my way. I’m in a sour mood. I haven’t made much romantic progress with Stella—any progress, actually—and the wards are failing. How is that even possible? I helped set them, and I haven’t felt any of them slip. I also haven’t received reports of potential problems from the guards on duty.
A human standing off to the side of the street sticks her tongue out at me and flashes a rude hand gesture. I smirk and wink at her as I fly by. I know I look dashing with my dark hair whipping out behind me, and in my smart elven uniform. Human curse words and gestures are amusing to me and mean nothing.
She does look vaguely familiar, though, and I’m several yards past her before I recall that she’s the woman who was protesting in the streets over a week ago.
Strange that we’d meet again, even if it were only briefly. Embarrassment flushes my face. Why had I winked at her? It was impulsive and immature. Father would have disapproved.
Mother would have laughed.
I miss Mother. It’ll be a disaster if she ever comes to visit—she must not meet Stella—so I should go visit her. She always pouts and complains if I stay away for more than a year. I’m not the talkative sort; a brief check-in every ten years or so feels more than adequate, but I try to visit her every winter solstice. This is the second year I’ve missed that expected date, and last winter, she came to visit me instead.
I make a mental note to see her next week. As much as I love my mother, I have more important things to worry about right now.
Several minutes later, I’m drawing near to the northern edge of the city. I keep my wind plank above the ground now, as the terrain is too bumpy to drive on. Liberty is in terrible disrepair, here. Any buildings that still stand are skeletal structures of burnt out and rusted metal. A few tents dot the wreckage, but if any humans live here, they keep themselves hidden.
There. Before me, is the ward. Invisible to human eyes, it’s a shimmering rope of light that sprouts from the ground and arcs far overhead, disappearing from sight the further it climbs.
Two elves stand guard, though that has always seemed excessive, seeing that there isn’t anything out here that could threaten the ward.
But perhaps that was an incorrect assumption.
I draw closer, powering down my wind plank.
We have at least one traitor in our midst. Someone used dark magic to turn those poor drug-addicted humans into vampires. And I still need to figure out who that is and worry about whether they’ve done anything else that has so far escaped my notice. Has anyone tampered with the wards?
The two elven guards watch my approach, their faces expressionless. If the earthquake or my sudden appearance rattled them, they don’t show it. They both bow their heads in a brief gesture of respect and then they turn their gazes away, keeping watch over the surrounding area. Good men.
I inspect the ward carefully. “Have either of you, or the guards before your round, noticed anything unusual here, or any disturbance of the ward?”
One shakes his head, a younger elf with flaming red hair. The older of the two, a thin elf with narrow shoulders and brown hair, speaks. “No, my prince. We felt the earth shake, but the ward has remained unchanged.”
“Hmm.” I bite my lower lip before I can catch myself, and quickly mask my alarm. The ward is set, hasn’t weakened, and doesn’t appear to be affected in any way.
A humming grows, and looking up, I see Geldyn approach, the elf riding an air skiff. I look down at my wind plank. Maybe I’m getting too old for it. It’s true that it’s usually favored by elves in their early hundred’s. I’m well over two hundred.
Geldyn strides over to stand beside me and looks up at the ward, his face almost pensive. “It looks as new as when we set it,” he murmurs, keeping his voice down so the guards can’t hear him. “Yet it did nothing to protect our city. Why?”
“Perhaps the other wards are damaged,” I mutter back. I very much hope I’ll have answers.
“Continue as normal,” I say to the guards and step onto my wind plank. Activating the crystal’s power, my plank lifts and hovers above the ground.
Geldyn and I continue our flight around the perimeter of Liberty and visit the wards set in the west, south, and east. Nothing seems amiss. Everything appears normal.
But of course it’s not, or we wouldn’t have had an earthquake in a ward-covered city. It doesn’t make sense, and it’s one more thing I need to worry about.
As Geldyn and I fly back to the elven base in the late afternoon, my mind is clouded with worry. I need to keep this city safe. I snort, my hands tightening into fists. I need to keep this world safe. But how can I do that if I can’t even protect Liberty?
I need to find a gaia. A human who can work earth magic. Maybe he or she wouldn’t be strong enough to help. But I have to try.
When we get back to the base, I turn to Geldyn as we land. “I need your assistance in finding more humans with magic.”
He’d been the one to discover and bring in three of the few humans we have that can work enchantment. He’d also helped me set the wards around the city, as well as the base. All elves have a knack for working and sensing magic, but Geldyn more than most.
He nods. “I’ll see what I can do, my prince.” He hesitates, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “The human girl, Stella. I saw magical ability in her, my prince. I assume that is why you keep her around.”
Geldyn and Sol are, as the human saying goes, ’thick as thieves.’ If Geldyn doesn’t know the real reason for Stella living at the fortress, then Sol hasn’t told anyone.
A warm glow settles in my stomach. Maybe Sol is more trustworthy than I’d thought, for all of his jokes and casual demeanor.
“How certain are you of her ability?” I ask.
“Quite,” Geldyn says. “That’s why I brought her to see you, my prince. It was only apparent for a moment, but I saw the weaves of enchantment. And they were coming from her. She has magic.”
“Interesting,” I muse. “I thought I saw something, too, a few days ago.” It was the truth. When I found her huddled in her bed, worrying over her brother, I thought I sensed magic coming from her. But it’d come and gone so quickly. And I’d tested her, using a scrying crystal, and it had not detected magic. It was impossible for her to have it if the crystal said she did not.
Another reason to keep a close watch on her.
I don’t mind.
But as I stride back to my office, my thoughts return to the pressing matter at hand. I must find a gaia. But where? How? My spies have heard no rumors. It’s like the gaias no longer exist. Where else could I search?
Would they be in any historical records?
I pause, reaching my office door, a thrill running up my spine.
Stella knows Earth’s history.
If anyone can help, it will be her.
6
Stella
After checking on Quinn to confirm he is all right, I spend the remainder of the morning wandering the halls. I pass Miska, the elven woman who seems to be Eldaren’s assistant. I couldn’t tell at the time I met her, but eyeballing her as we pass in the hallway, she looks to be a few years older than the prince. Which probably means decades span their age gap. It’s hard to tell, with elves. She’s gorgeous, though, with long, white-blonde hair and a killer figure that makes me feel dreadfully thin and waifish.
She eyes me back, a spark of curiosity in her gaze, but she doesn’t speak and is gone in a moment.
My mind drifts back to the earthquake that hit early this morning. I have vague memories of the quakes that wracked Liberty when I was a small child, but they’d stopped, and we haven’t had a single one for over a decade.
My steps slow. It’s weird that we had an earthquake, but now that I’m really thinking about it . . .
It’s stranger still that we haven’t had one for over ten years. I’ve talked to Liberty newcomers in the past, and they spoke of the smoky air, fetid water, and earthquakes that plagued their homes in the Midwest and South.
Our city was infested with thieves, murderers, and other unsavory people, but our water was mostly drinkable, due to our water catchment systems, and the elves, passing out filters like candy when they’d first arrived. Right before they cracked down on crime, and passed strict laws and regulations. Liberty was used to running itself, and despite the initial help of food and filters, didn’t take kindly to the elven leadership. But we still accepted the free handouts. Naturally.
I smile as I continue on. Eldaren truly cares for the people, even if he hides his feelings under a mask of indifference.
But if the elves hadn’t set up wards until they descended to Earth, five years ago, what explained the lack of quakes for the previous half of the decade?
After the walk, I return to my room, pull out a book on the American Revolution, and begin to read. I lay on my back, the book held up above my face, arms aching slightly from the strain of holding it up.
Aleere, the elf woman who’s been assigned to serve me, comes in a couple of hours later, bringing lunch. I move to the table and eat while I read. For a short time, I feel like I’m living the hardship and trials of my ancestors. “At least I have shoes,” I say with a grimace. The idea of walking in the snow while barefoot makes me cringe, compassion welling in my heart for the colonial soldiers.
“What are you reading?”
I jump at the voice and almost drop my book. Eldaren is standing less than two feet from where I sit, watching me with quiet intensity.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” I grumble. “You scared me half to death.”
“I did not intend to frighten you,” Eldaren says. His long, black hair hangs windswept and wild about his face, and his clothes are disheveled and dusty, giving him a rakish look. But of course, that word doesn’t describe Eldaren. He’s too focused on me to give any other female the time of day. “I merely came in. You humans do not have keen hearing.”
I close my book, but not before Eldaren’s gaze roves over the pages. “You owe me a secret,” he says.
“Oh?” I eye him cautiously. “Refresh my memory.”
“You said you would tell me why you’ve taken such an interest in history, if I took you out in the city,” he says. “And I did. You still haven’t told me why.”
I swallow the lump that’s suddenly risen in my throat. “I love history because my parents did,” I manage. Will I ever see them again? In another life? I’d like to think that someday, I will. Someday, we’ll be together. I miss them so much. “History is something we used to bond over, and it makes me feel closer to them. It’s how I honor their memory.”
Eldaren tilts his head, his gaze sweeping over me. “I see. I am sorry for your loss, Stella, mine. When did they die?”
I shrug a shoulder. “It’s been a long time. Quinn and I have been on our own for years.”
“Your love of history; is it your own, or theirs?”
I blink. I hadn’t considered it. “Mine. Maybe in truth, because it had been so important to them. But I study history because I want to. It helps me understand the world a little better.”
Eldaren nods. “I am glad you enjoy reading, Stella. I respect those who educate themselves without being forced to.”
I smirk at the elven prince. “Math is a different story.”
Eldaren’s eyes widen. “You don’t understand mathematics?”
“I like counting money.” I wink. “Beyond that, I’m not very good at it. My mother was hopeless with it, too.” A smile tugs at my lips, a memory resurfacing. “Dad used to get so frustrated with her when he tried to teach her algebra. Mom always responded that she married him so she wouldn’t have to learn.”
Eldaren’s gray eyes narrow, his expression turning calculating, and I switch the subject before he can get any ideas. “Why did you come to see me?”
He gestures to the book I’m holding. “I came to ask for your help. I’m looking for a magic user, called a gaia.”
I nod. “You told me about them. They can use earth magic, right?” Whatever that is.
“Yes,” Eldaren says. “I believe he or she would be able to soothe any future earthquakes in the city. There’s even the slight chance that he would know what further steps we need to take to heal the earth.” His gaze becomes distant. “Though I imagine it won’t be any different from the other planets we’ve helped. It’s always an improper use of the planet’s resources that causes it to sicken. If we just tip the balance, it should be all right.”
A snort escapes me. “You hardly need my help. You have an entire civilization you rule over.” I scowl. “Wait, make that two civilizations.”
“If you humans weren’t so rotten at governing yourselves,” Eldaren replies, his tone even, “you wouldn’t need us to rule this earth.”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “You’re terrible at asking for help. You haven’t even told me what you need.”
“I need you to locate a gaia.”
My mouth falls open, and I stare at him. It takes several moments for me to fully comprehend his request. “You want me to locate a magic user.”
“Yes.”
“Even though I don’t wield magic.”
A faint line creases his brow. “Yes . . .” he says slowly.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“You know a lot about the history of this world,” he says. “Do you recall reading about gaias in any of your books? Or perhaps some oddity that couldn’t be explained?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I say hesitantly. “I didn’t believe magic was even real until I came here. Even when you guys came down from space, I assumed you were just using technology of some sort.”
“Well, if anyone can discover any hints as to the whereabouts of any gaia, we’ll be better off,” Eldaren says, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes. He was hoping I would recall something that would help them.
“What if the gaia don’t exist?” I ask. “What then?”
Eldaren grimaces. “At best, my people will be able to eventually heal the planet. Worst-case scenario, this earth will die, and we’ll transport as many of your people as we can to a different planet before that happens.”
My mouth is hanging open again, and I close it with a click of my teeth. “You have other planets under your contr
ol?”
“We rule many planets, Stella, my heart.”
“Well, what makes you think we won’t destroy the one you take us to?”
Eldaren smiles, and I don’t like it. It’s cold, derision tugging at his lips to expose perfect white teeth, canines more pronounced than that of a human. “Trust me. They won’t be given that choice.”
I shiver. “I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thank you. You may read the books in my office, and in the main library, if you wish. Just don’t touch any of my papers at my desk. Miska will be most upset if anything is out of order.” He bows politely and turns to leave.
“Eldaren,” I call. “How do we know that gaia are even real? If you haven’t found any, and they aren’t in our history books, how do you know they’re out there?”
“Our people made contact with one, long ago,” the prince replies. “It was before your time on this earth. We lost communications with him, however, and haven’t found him, or any others, since. But conditions have been deteriorating here on this planet, so we must look harder.”
“Do you mean the earthquakes?” I ask.
“That’s part of it, yes.” Frustration tinges his voice. “But do not fear. I will protect you, Stella, no matter what fate befalls this planet.”
I exhale slowly, watching him leave. His words don’t make me feel any better.
7
Wilder
Thirst rages through me. I lay on my back, staring up at the bedsprings, waiting for night to fall. The room is already darkening. Soon. Soon, I shall be free to hunt. To kill.
To drink.
Inhaling shakily, my fingers curl into fists, arms held at my sides. Surely I can keep fighting it. I’ve held out this long.
I already know the answer to that.
My self-control is being held by a fraying thread. I will go mad if I don’t drink.
“I don’t want to feel that way, again.” The words are a hiss. I don’t want to go back to insanity. Been there, done that. And this compulsion for blood is stronger than any dose of star-blood I’ve ever had.
