Water Shaper (World Aflame)

by Messenger, Jon

  The Fire Elemental turned back toward the Fire Warrior, and a jet of flame leapt from its hand. The blaze consumed the young warrior, who screamed in pain before collapsing onto the road. His body smoldered as it continued to burn.

  The Elemental turned back toward Sammy and saw her pained expression. For the first time, Sammy saw the Elemental smile at its reflection.

  “You’re not nearly as in control as you’d like me to believe,” it said. “You may have caught me by surprise before, I’ll admit, but you won’t get that chance again.”

  Sammy frowned. “You can’t do this. What you’re doing is wrong. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll find a way—”

  The Fire Elemental punched forward. Its fist passed through the window, shattering the glass. Shards tinkled onto the sidewalk. The Fire Elemental stepped forward and looked at the pieces scattered across the asphalt. It saw its own reflection staring back at it from a hundred places. It frowned, then smiled, and then raised its hand into the air. The reflections mirrored its movements without any of the pestering intervening images of the host.

  The Elemental felt a dull ache in its chest, but it couldn’t tell if it was residual anger or an artifact of Sammy’s frustration. It reached up and rubbed the exposed skin, trying to push the feeling aside.

  A gentle breeze blew down the street, and the Elemental felt the chill across its skin. It looked past the broken window and into the lobby of the battered skyscraper. Letting its eyes trail upward, it saw the top of the building towering overhead.

  If the Fire Elemental was to rule the world of men as its king, it only made sense that it had a throne. There was no better throne room than one in the tallest tower remaining in the city.

  It stepped over the threshold, ignoring the bite of glass on its bare feet. It walked through the lobby and entered the stairwell on the far side of the room. Step by step, it climbed the stairs toward the penthouse.

  Abraxas lit up the sky with his blazing wings as he soared over the eastern edge of London. Smoke hung heavy in the air, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. He flew on unfazed by the choking smog. The city burned in great swaths, bringing a great joy to the general. Though he reveled in the destruction of another of the human’s capital cities, it wasn’t the burning of London that drew him to the English city. He still felt the tug of the elusive Wind Warrior nearby.

  Though the Fire Elemental had given him instructions on how to follow Xander, it had been difficult to pinpoint their enemy until he grew closer to the island nation. He had felt the pull right away, like a string was tied to his belly button, drawing him into the wake of the fleeing Wind Warrior.

  The draw had been strong when he had been out over the ocean but had grown weaker the closer General Abraxas grew to the edge of London. He knew it meant that Xander had stopped using his powers. All Abraxas could still feel was the residual power still hanging over the city, like an echo. It was fading quickly, which is why Abraxas pushed himself faster as he flew toward the Thames.

  As quickly as the feeling had appeared, the sensation of the Wind Warrior’s power disappeared. Abraxas stopped abruptly and hovered, his flaming wings beating in rhythm with his racing heartbeat.

  The general frowned and scanned the city around him, as though he might catch sight of Xander. He punched his hand in disappointment, but his emotional outburst stopped short of actual anger. He had the Wind Warrior trapped. Xander couldn’t fly or fight without Abraxas sensing his presence. There was nowhere for his young adversary to go that the Fire Warrior General couldn’t follow. Though patience had never been his strongest attribute, Abraxas would find it within himself to wait for Xander to show himself.

  The General scanned the city again, and his eyes fixated on the smoking and burning ruins of the House of Parliament near the river. Unlike Xander, who had avoided the heaviest areas of destruction, Abraxas flew straight toward the still-raging inferno that consumed the building.

  Darting into the smoke, he savored its scent as it enveloped him. He passed through the other side and looked down upon the cracked and brutalized road beyond the smoldering building. Fire Warriors marched through the street, throwing jets of flames into the storefronts as they passed. The soothing sound of humans screaming reached Abraxas’ ears, even as high above them as he was.

  The General swooped up into the air until his face was turned toward the sun. Arching his back, he turned in a loop in the air until he was inverted, facing the street below. He plummeted downward without fear, aiming for the empty street between a patrol of Fire Warriors.

  The ground grew steadily closer. At first, he could only see the warriors as miniscule figures moving along the street, identifiable only by the burning orbs of flames around their bodies. The closer he dropped toward the ground, the more he could see the peeling paint of cars, the rubble strewn across the asphalt, and the twinkling glass of shattered windows.

  As he came dangerously close to the road, he spun again until his feet faced downward and he dissipated his fiery wings. He dropped the last ten feet to the ground, slamming into the road with thunderous weight. The asphalt buckled beneath him, cracking in concentric rings from his body. The impact shook the ground for blocks, knocking some of the less fortunate Fire Warriors from their feet.

  Regaining their composure quickly, they turned toward the uninvited guest. They took in the look of his bald head and dark tribal tattoos that traced his scalp. Flames reignited around their hands as they faced what they saw as a new threat.

  General Abraxas smiled, his eyes smoldering with the Elemental’s power. He bent forward, bringing his arms to his chest. Arching his back suddenly, he threw his arms out wide and the flaming wings burst from his back. Their wingspan brushed the faces of the nearest Fire Warriors, who all stumbled backward from his daunting presence. They looked at one another confusedly as they tried to figure out what to do about the burning man before them.

  “Stand down,” a rumbling voice demanded.

  Abraxas willed his wings to lie tightly against his back and turned toward the commanding voice. He was surprised to see a diminutive Fire Warrior entering the ring of other warriors. The man wore a half cape slung over a shoulder, a sign of his stature as a lord of this Fire Warrior clan. Despite the clear apprehension on the lord’s face, he walked forward, stopping a few feet away from Abraxas.

  The General stared at the man who stood nearly a full head and shoulders shorter than him.

  “Forgive us, General Abraxas,” the lord said. “They didn’t know to expect someone of your position. Had we known, we would have prepared a proper welcome.”

  Abraxas narrowed his eyes. “I was here not long ago, and I don’t recognize you. What is your name?”

  “Lord Cambion,” the man said with a sweeping bow before the General.

  Abraxas stroked his chin thoughtfully. “How is it that you’re now lord of this clan?”

  Cambion flushed a brilliant crimson at the question. “You killed everyone who stood in the way of my ascension to lord last time you were here.”

  “I destroyed all the other lords because they were fools who disobeyed the orders of our Master. Don’t give me reason to do the same to you.”

  Cambion cleared his throat nervously. “Of course not. I’m eternally loyal to the Great Dragon.”

  “Good,” the General said, turning away from the diminutive man.

  “My Lord, please tell me what brings you to London.”

  Abraxas turned back to the lord, seeing the potential in the available army of Fire Warriors. “Our mortal enemy has arrived in your city.”

  “We felt his presence,” Cambion said, nodding.

  “He’s in hiding now, but he’ll eventually be foolish enough to show himself. You and your clan will help me find and kill him in the name of our Master.”

  Lord Cambion clearly brightened at the mission. “Of course, General Abraxas. My clan is at your disposal.”

  General Abraxas flexed his fiery wings and lifte
d into the air. He saw a series of tall buildings not yet destroyed by the Fire Warriors’ wanton destruction of the city.

  “I will make my perch there while we wait,” he said, pointing to the tallest of the remaining buildings. “Join me there.”

  Lord Cambion bowed, but Abraxas didn’t await the man’s response. From the corner of his eye, he could see the lord rushing through the streets as the General flew away.

  Abraxas smiled wickedly. He looked forward to slaughtering Xander and currying more favor with the Fire Elemental.

  Now he had an army to help him.

  The sun was barely filtering through the window when Xander awoke. At first, he felt disoriented. He didn’t realize how exhausted he’d become until his head hit the pillow. He had fallen asleep almost immediately, despite Sean’s obnoxious snoring in the second twin bed in the room. Jessica was in a neighboring bedroom, and her door had been closed by the time Xander went to bed.

  His mind felt foggy as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. He tried to stifle a yawn but it escaped, and he was forced to stretch widely. The sliver of sun creeping through the window caught his eye, and he wondered why he was awake. Despite a good night’s sleep, his body screamed for a dozen more hours of rest.

  As he tried to shake away the cobwebs of slumber, he heard a noise downstairs. His weariness disappeared immediately, and he slid from under the covers. In his exhaustion, he had fallen asleep fully clothed, but it worked to his benefit as he padded across the carpeted floor and gently turned the doorknob.

  The door creaked faintly as he pulled the door open, and Xander cringed at the noise. He hoped the sound didn’t carry in the modern townhouse and that whatever, or whoever, was downstairs wouldn’t be alerted that he was awake. His imagination ran wild, and he envisioned dozens of Fire Warriors sneaking into the house like quiet assassins while they slept.

  As he mused about the potential murderers downstairs, he heard the noise again. It was a grating, like something heavy being scraped across the floor. Even in his weary state, it didn’t take Xander long to figure out what he was hearing. He crept to the top of the stairs and looked down to the foyer below.

  Wilkes strained as he pushed the heavy bench out of the way of the front door. It slid a few inches to the side and he immediately paused and glanced upward, as though trying to see if his small noise had alerted anyone else in the house. Xander slid quickly back behind the half wall at the top of the stairs and hoped the officer hadn’t seen him. A second later, the bench scraped a few more inches and Xander let out a sigh.

  Xander hurried back to the bedroom as he heard a lock turned aside and the front door open. He shook Sean, who grumbled as he rolled away from him and faced the window.

  “Wake up, Sean,” Xander said quietly. Despite hearing the door open, he didn’t want to alert the Leftenant that they were awake.

  “Five more minutes,” Sean muttered.

  Xander punched him in the arm.

  “Ow. What do you want?”

  “Wilkes just snuck out of the house,” Xander said.

  “Fine. Let him go, and let me go back to sleep.”

  Xander punched him again, harder than before. Sean rolled over and glared at his best friend.

  “What is your problem? If he wants to leave, let him go. He’s not our problem.”

  “Yes, he is,” Xander said. “He’s trying to rescue his family, and he’s going to get killed in the process.”

  “Unless we help him, you mean,” Sean said.

  “Unless we help him.”

  “No, you mean unless we get ourselves killed too in the process. Somehow, you always seem to forget that part.”

  “Get up and get dressed,” Xander said, ignoring his friend’s repeated complaints. “I’ll go get Jessica.”

  “No need,” she said from the doorway. “I’m way ahead of you.”

  Xander’s heart leapt in his chest at the sound of her voice. He didn’t realize he was so on edge until she snuck up on him unannounced.

  “Sorry,” Jessica said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard him moving that bench and figured I’d better get up.”

  Xander smiled, glad to have someone on his side. “Get your stuff. We’ll follow him and see if we can keep him out of trouble.”

  “He’s not the one I’m worried about,” Sean said as he pulled on his jeans.

  Outside the townhouse, the sky was still overcast. Sunlight cast a dim glow to the gray sky but offered little other improvements for visibility.

  Xander dusted the ash flakes from his shoulder, leaving behind a smear of white across his T-shirt. His skin felt chalky and dry as the fires continued to burn freely around the neighborhood. Some of the flames seemed closer this morning than they had been the night before. Without a fire department, burning embers floating through the air ignited secondary fires in nearby townhouses.

  The trio crouched low as they moved to the end of the hedgerow in front of the townhouses. The hedges butted up against a waist-high brick wall that bordered the sidewalk and offered a modicum of privacy to the upscale apartments.

  Peering around the edge of the wall, Xander couldn’t see the Leftenant. He had a good head start on the trio and Xander frowned, thinking they’d already lost their opportunity to follow the British officer. As he swore under his breath, Jessica tapped him gently on the shoulder and pointed to the ground in front of him. There, imprinted in the drifting ash, was a set of booted footprints. They faded into the smoke and morning fog, but offered the only trail they had available. Stepping around the corner, Xander hurried after the tracks.

  Wilkes’ movements were sporadic, often moving to the rear of a scorched car before moving in long strides toward a hedgerow on the other side of the street. Xander wondered if they should be moving tactfully like the officer. He felt like he was blundering through the London streets haphazardly, almost inviting a Fire Warrior ambush.

  To his surprise, the streets seemed deserted. There were no overt signs of Fire Warriors, aside from the destruction they’d already caused to the property and vehicles around them. Despite the silence, Xander could practically feel eyes on him, watching his movements.

  The tracks turned sharply as they reached a cross street. The street sign hung at an angle, but the name “Orchard Street” was still visible on the burnt sign. Turning onto Orchard Street was like stepping into an entirely different city. The townhouses disappeared, replaced by towering department stores and restaurant storefronts. Glass display windows stretched down the road with mannequins standing awkwardly—and often headless—in the storefronts. Many of the windows were broken like the car windshields but a surprising few still seemed intact. A few marred tables jutted at odd angles from a restaurant’s storefront, though Xander couldn’t tell if they had been placed there as blockades by the owners or were just part of the wanton destruction.

  The Leftenant’s tracks hurried down Orchard Street; the strides were long and uniform as he ran. Xander couldn’t blame the officer. The new street seemed exactly the type of place where the Fire Warriors would congregate. Glancing down, he noticed that some of the tracks were filled with a light dusting of ash as the wind carried the white powder across the street. Xander felt his stomach lurch at the thought that he could lose the tracks completely if he didn’t hurry.

  The space between the footprints narrowed as they approached the shattered windows of a towering department store. The gray stone of the three-story building glowed in the reds and yellows of nearby fires. Tall windows stretched the height of the building, which sat on a full city block. At the center of the store, an entryway was recessed from the rest of the building and the name Selfridges hung below the tattered remains of what had once been a two-story banner of a male model.

  The footprints continued beyond the shadowed entrance. As Xander looked up, he frowned. The footsteps went only about twenty feet beyond the department store’s entrance before stopping before a shattered window. He knew that following
the Leftenant inside a department store of this size would be virtually impossible.

  As he glanced down again, he noticed the footprints beyond the store’s entrance were misshapen, as though the edges had been smeared by a second pair of boots.

  “What’s wrong?” Sean whispered.

  “It looks like two sets of prints, almost like someone was following him or—”

  The realization struck Xander at the same moment his heart skipped a beat. “—or he doubled back.”

  Wilkes stepped out of the shadows of Selfridges and punched Xander hard in the jaw. Xander’s knees went weak as the world spun around him. He didn’t realize he was falling over until he saw the sidewalk rushing up at him.

  Sean tackled the officer, but Wilkes shifted his weight and sent the heavyset man sliding across the sidewalk. Sean finally came to rest in front of the broken display window, in a pile of broken mannequins pieces and metal clothing rods.

  “I told you to go home,” Wilkes said. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  Xander rotated his jaw as the spots stopped dancing in his vision. He couldn’t remember the last time he’s been punched that hard. Jessica offered him a hand, but Wilkes pushed her aside.

  “No, you don’t get up,” he said, pointing at Xander. His rifle dangled from a sling over his shoulder. “You stay right there and tell me what you think you were doing?”

  “We’re trying to help you,” Xander said as he sat up.

  “I told you last night, and I’ll tell you again. I don’t need your help.”

  Xander felt anger boiling within him. It seemed like every time he offered to help people, it backfired on him. He was growing tired of being pushed around by people who thought themselves superior.