Mark of Four

by Tamara Shoemaker

  Daymon and Manders had taken advantage of Malachi’s distraction, to throw a constant storm of wind and water his way.

  Alayne checked the grounds. They were still in mass confusion, and no one had recognized Malachi.

  Alayne had just decided to try lightning, though she hadn’t had any practice with it before, when Malachi pulled a massive, swirling geyser from one of the spire’s main underground waterlines. It fountained hundreds of yards, and then pounded downward in a huge javelin of water that drilled into the ground at his feet.

  Daymon, Manders, and Alayne all froze in surprise. What was he doing?

  With a laugh of glee, Malachi flung the water away, dropped into the hole he’d made, and emerged a moment later on a swelling bubble of water.

  Marysa struggled in his arms.

  “M—Marysa!” Alayne shouted.

  Terror froze her friend’s eyes. Malachi’s arm hugged her neck, keeping her body pressed against his as he backed toward the river.

  Alayne, Daymon, and Manders stopped throwing elements, terrified of hitting Marysa.

  The chaos across the grounds hadn’t abated; no one noticed Malachi or his hostage.

  Marysa’s hands glowed as she struggled to break Malachi’s hold, burning his arm, but his arm crusted over with ice, and even the heat from her hands couldn’t break through.

  “Come and get ‘er, Quadriweave!” Malachi shouted. He backed along the riverbank step by step. Daymon battered him with wind, but Malachi threw up ice shields each time. He began launching ice javelins at the three of them again.

  Alayne ducked a javelin, sucking at Malachi’s boots with mud, but he freed himself. She wanted to slam him with all the elements at once, but Marysa’s wan, welted face and her terror-lit eyes kept her from it. She and Daymon and Manders watched helplessly as Malachi backed into the water, dragging Marysa with him.

  “Congratulations, Quadriweave!” he shouted. “You won today, but I’m gonna beat you tomorrow. Better watch your back; you don’t know when I’ll be comin’ for you.”

  Fury sizzled through Alayne, so hot that it exploded from her fingertips, quaking through the elements, shredding the ground on both sides of the river, swirling the water around Malachi and Marysa.

  A wall of water stretched high above Malachi’s head, flattening until it was paper thin and razor sharp all the way across.

  So fast that no one had time to move or think, Alayne brought it down with all the force she could muster between Malachi and Marysa.

  The edge caught part of Malachi’s face, flaying his cheek and severing his nose. The ice melted into water in a split second, and Malachi screamed, throwing his hands over his face.

  Marysa lurched forward while Malachi fell backward. A severed chunk of Marysa’s black hair swirled on the surface of the water between them.

  Sobbing, Marysa crawled toward the bank. Alayne splashed into the water to help her.

  Malachi disappeared under the water, and Manders sprinted after the churning, writhing man as he swam downriver.

  Daymon met Alayne and Marysa at the edge of the water, hefting Marysa up the bank to sit on the grass.

  Marysa and Alayne were both sobbing. Marysa grabbed Alayne in a stranglehold, and neither could talk through their tears. Daymon stood behind them, staring along the riverbank. Manders had disappeared along with Malachi.

  After a few minutes, Alayne pulled back, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Is he coming yet?”

  Daymon shook his head tersely, his jaw hard.

  “Go after him; we’re all right here.”

  Daymon glanced back at the school. The Continental Guard had doused nearly all the fire-walkers. At this distance, it looked as though only three more pockets of them remained, and water geysers liberally swirled in the air around them. It wouldn’t be long until the fire-walkers were gone.

  “Sure you’re all right?”

  “Go.” Alayne waved him away.

  Daymon started to run along the riverbank, but stopped almost right away as Manders’s figure appeared through a copse of trees.

  As he approached, he shook his head wearily. “The filthy spawn escaped.” He squatted next to the girls, his gray eyes not quite meeting Alayne’s. “I’m sorry.” A ragged tear in Manders’s shirt seeped blood. “He caught me with an ice-javelin. He got away.”

  Alayne didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Anger, shock, hatred, and revenge all struggled for first place, and then none of them won. Weariness took over.

  “Thanks,” she managed.

  Daymon stood behind his uncle, his arms crossed.

  “You, too, Daymon.” She reached over and gently touched Manders’s shoulder. Relief flickered across the man’s face as the pain drained away. Alayne glanced once again at Daymon. Approval darkened his eyes.

  For some reason, Alayne flushed.

  Marysa leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

  * * *

  The students huddled in small groups in the common room, shock and daze coating most of their expressions. The Continental Guard still wove through the spire, searching for any hidden fire-walkers or Shadow-Casters. Sprynge had holed himself up in one of the classrooms with the Guard commanders to discuss the situation, and Manders wearily sipped tea on a couch across from Alayne and Marysa. Daymon rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as he stared at the floor.

  They were all scarred from the day. Not physically—Marysa’s welts and burns had healed as soon as she’d hugged Alayne, and her skin was smooth and clear once again. Daymon had changed into clean jeans and didn’t even walk with a limp after his deep wound that Alayne had healed earlier that day. Manders had also changed and showed no after-effects from the javelin he’d taken to his shoulder.

  But all of them struggled with inward turmoil. Alayne played over and over again the expression on Jayme’s face as the knife thudded into his chest, followed by his slow fall over the edge.

  Manders cleared his throat and set the tea on the table.

  “How long were you in that room, Marysa?”

  She shook her head. “Not long. I was at Cliffsides most of the time. Walters, Pepper, and Foy hid me in one of the caves and notched the elements out of reach. They only moved me to that room a couple of days ago.”

  Alayne glanced at Manders. “But wouldn’t High Court Elementals be good enough to sense when the elements were out of reach? They combed the cliffs all semester.”

  Manders nodded. “If she had been in that area. They took her several miles to the north. It was still in the same network of tunnels and caves, but far removed from the kidnapping. Once the Elementals had to expand their search, finding Marysa’s location was like searching for a single piece of paper in a paper factory.”

  Alayne’s eyes slid shut.

  Marysa said, “The Three were Casted stooges of the Elemental Alliance, and they’d come in and have long talks with me, trying to get information, I guess. I don’t think I gave much away, but I did get a little information from them.”

  Manders leaned forward with interest. “What kind of information?”

  Marysa blushed. “Well, nothing huge. I found out that Dorner had gotten caught in the crossfire between the Shadow-Casters who were roaming the area around the same time as the field-study. A group of High Court spies had come to meet with Dorner, because he’s—”

  “A spy for the High Court, I know,” Manders finished.

  Alayne’s eyes widened. “Dorner was a spy?”

  Manders nodded. “The High Court, at this point anyway, still opposes segregation between Naturals and Elementals, and they’d appointed him as a spy at Clayborne, reasoning, I assume, that Clayborne is a big hub of Elemental influence with all the students, parents, and professors involved.”

  “Makes sense.” Alayne felt sorry for the Chairman—and guilty that she’d ever mistrusted him, even a little.

  “The Alliance has also been building a collect
ion of Casted individuals taken from various places around the Continent and kept goodness knows where.” Manders shook his head ruefully. “The Last Order spies weren’t able to collect that information.”

  “The Last Order?” Alayne looked at Marysa. “We found an ‘LO’ pin on Dorner—”

  “Yes, that’s the one,” Manders nodded. “Chairman Dorner was a member of the Last Order, though he answered to Justices in the High Court, so not many knew he served the secret group.” He sighed and clapped Daymon on the shoulder. “Anyway, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. It doesn’t all end now. Malachi’s escaped, there’s a collection of Shadow-Casted people that the Alliance may be building into an army—”

  “What happened to The Three? Walters, Pepper, and Foy?” Marysa interrupted.

  Manders twisted on the couch, motioning to a group of chairs near the chute. People stood in a cluster, talking to the individuals in the chairs, and Alayne recognized the shadowed faces of the ex-professors. They looked disoriented.

  “They’ll be returned to their families for some rest,” Manders said. “Being Shadow-Casted, especially for long periods of time, will take its toll. They may never again regain the personality they once had. Bringing feeling and emotion back into a body so long void of it may break them permanently. Rest is the best thing for them. They may never return to teach here, though they may surprise us.”

  Alayne wanted to go to bed. Weariness and long-delayed shock clogged her brain.

  Manders wasn’t yet ready to release her, though. “Daymon said you had the Vale, Alayne. Where exactly is it?”

  Alayne glanced at Daymon who watched her wordlessly. Slowly, she lifted her shirt and showed them the small scar, explaining in a few words her conclusion. “It—it heals, though. The Vale, Professor. Why would I still have a scar if it’s inside me and heals everything else that happens to me?”

  Manders raised an eyebrow. “I’m not certain, Alayne. My best guess is that the Vale has its own power, and since it was placed in your body at that location, it left a scar that goes far beyond other physical injuries. If that’s the case, you’ll never be rid of it.” He leaned forward. “The night you got that, Alayne, is a night I will never forget.”

  He started to rise, but Alayne had a final question. “Sir, I’ve gone over that scene a million times in the cave, and I still can’t figure out who casted the Three. Did they ever find the other Shadow-Casters in Malachi’s group?”

  A bleak smile crossed Manders’ face. “I hate to say this, but I don’t know, Alayne. Yes, Malachi’s Casters have made their appearance here and there, but there’s no sure connection between them and the Three that held Marysa captive.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “All evidence seems to suggest, Alayne, that there is a Caster inside the walls of Clayborne.”

  “Who?” Alayne sounded like an owl.

  “Of course, we have several that we suspect, but nothing that will help us until we find some positive proof.” Manders stood. “I’m sorry to trouble you with that, Alayne. Do be careful, and best of luck,” he murmured. “The secret’s out now. Your best protection as a Quadriweave was the fact that very few people knew. I’m afraid the entire school knows now.”

  Alayne’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, sir?”

  Manders shook his head. “Stanwick Jones himself has flown out here to talk to you. I’ve turned him away, but he and his crew are out there right now reporting about you, the Vale, and the connection you have with it.”

  Alayne’s fingers trembled. She shot a nervous glance at Daymon, who hadn’t contributed to the conversation, but now boldly watched Alayne.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” Manders said as he picked up his tea cup, “that we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

  * * *

  Alayne accompanied Marysa to their dorm room. Marysa winded easily, so their progress was slow, but Alayne was so thankful to have her friend with her again, she didn’t mind in the least.

  Marysa hadn’t lost her ability to talk, even after her months of captivity. She chattered to Alayne for four flights of stairs before she stopped to rest. Leaning against the rail, she said, “You haven’t talked to Kyle since all the chaos, have you? When we passed him downstairs, he looked really worried.”

  Something inside Alayne snapped. Too much had happened today, way too much to care that Kyle might get his feelings hurt.

  “He can get over it,” she bit out.

  “Layne.” Marysa’s voice, rarely reproving, was quite sharp this time. Alayne jerked her head up to stare at her friend.

  Marysa’s icy blue eyes flashed. “I get what you’re going through, okay? Yeah, I’ve never lost a boyfriend the way you have, but I have watched my best friend from childhood slowly die of some stupid disease no one’s ever found a cure for, and she passed away a month before I came to Clayborne. I’d known her since I was a baby. Did I want to curl up in a fetal position and let life pass me by? You betcha. Did I want to lash out at my family? Definitely. Did I want to go scream at the doctor that refused to give her the meds she needed to be able to prevent her pain? Absolutely.”

  Marysa shakily pushed herself from the railing and began her slow progress up the next flight of stairs. Alayne was stung into silence.

  “I didn’t do any of those things. Do you know why? Because it was pointless. People depended on me, so I put my selfish little rant aside and became cheerful, sometimes-not-all-with-it Marysa again, and the world got better. Not overnight, but as each day passed, it was easier to put one foot out of bed onto the floor, and then the other. I could push the numbness away.” Marysa’s pale face turned to Alayne at the next landing. She jerked her thumb down the stairs. “Now, you have friends out there who love you. You have Kyle, who has stood by your side through a lot more than any friend should ever have to, and he deserves a fighting chance. You have Daymon—”

  She slapped her hand irritably against the stair railing at Alayne’s unladylike snort.

  “Did he not save your life today? Or did I misunderstand the story? You have Daymon,” Marysa ranted on without waiting for an answer, “to thank for saving your rear and protecting the lives of most of the people at this school. Sure, he’s been a jerk most of the year, but he still deserves some recognition for his hard work.” She folded her arms and stared at Alayne.

  Alayne’s eyes misted with affection for her friend. “You’re right, Mary. Thanks.”

  Marysa’s eyes softened. She squeezed Alayne’s upper arm. “It’ll be okay, Alayne. Trust me.”

  Alayne smiled tremulously back.

  Chapter 31

  Alayne found Daymon in one of the weight rooms in the gymnasium. He pushed himself up off the bench, his bare chest gleaming with sweat. He pulled a towel off a nearby rack and wiped his face. When he saw Alayne, he grimaced.

  “What do you want?”

  Quick anger flared inside Alayne. “Okay, look, hotshot. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. You don’t need to act like I’m the plague just because I’m in the same room as you.”

  Daymon looked her over. “I only did what I had to do.” He turned his back on her, snatching his t-shirt from the rack.

  Alayne studied his tattoo as he pushed his arms through his shirt. The material clung to his sweaty back. “What did Malachi mean when he called you ‘Guardian’ on the mountain?”

  Daymon glanced over his shoulder and then sat down on the bench. He sighed. “I’m surprised you have to ask.”

  “Maybe I don’t,” Alayne murmured. “I just don’t know all the pieces to the story.”

  “There’s not much story.” Daymon shrugged. “My family are the Guardians of the Vale. We have been for centuries. After the original possessor of the Vale performed his blood ceremony, his descendents were bound to fulfill his oath. We’re required to carve the symbol of the Vale on our backs as a sign that we’ll never forget our duty.”

  Awe crept through Alayne’s voice. “Did anyone
forget?”

  “Nope.” Daymon shook his head. “Once the mark is carved, the Vale transfers some of its power to the Guardian. We can be skilled with the elements, but if one of us should betray the Vale, we immediately die.” He shrugged. “That’s what my tattoo means. If I were to allow harm to come to the Vale, I would die as payment.”

  “Why were you such a jerk to me the whole first part of the year, then? If I possess the Vale, and you’re supposed to be a Guardian of the Vale—”

  “I didn’t know, okay?” Daymon snapped. “I—we didn’t know. My mother was the thief who stole the Vale from the temple and kept it hidden for four years until she passed it off to you. The Guardians had been searching frantically for it, and we thought it may have ended up with your family. I had no idea you were the owner until Christmas. And of course, by my oath, I had to protect you.”

  “You avoided me.”

  Daymon rubbed a hand over his short hair. “Alayne, I was bitter. I admit it. What would you do if you were born into something and had no choice in the matter? If you were ordered to spend your entire life for one solitary cause and if you didn’t, you’d die?” He shrugged. “Not saying I’m not still bitter, but I’m learning to deal with my lot in life.” He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I know it’s not an apology for how I treated you this year, but it’s as close to one as you’re going to get.” His lips thinned into the shadow of a smile.

  Alayne leaned against an elliptical machine, folding her arms along the handrail. She studied his profile as he bent to tighten his shoelaces. “You know what I think?”

  “No, what do you think?” Daymon straightened and set the water bottle on the bench beside him.

  “I think that somewhere deep down inside you is a decent guy who would be a lot of fun to be friends with. But the layers of bitterness are piled up so high that no one can even get past those to see who the real Daymon is.”