by Jess Bowen
“Okay, what are you guys talking about?” Phoebe asked.
Ethan frowned for a minute before Lucy nudged him, then he started talking. “Well, look at it this way—you and Kali both liked Dorian from the beginning.” Phoebe’s irritation sparked at the mere mention of Kali’s name and how she felt about Dorian. Ethan held his hands up in defense. “Just hear me out. So, you both liked him, but Kali was overly obnoxious and practically begging Dorian to take her, while you just kind of sat back and waited for him to come to you.”
Cynthia shook her head slowly. “Not making the connection.”
Phoebe nodded in agreement with Cynthia, and wondered if she had to have a Y chromosome to understand this.
Hector sighed. “What he means is, the girl who’s going to throw herself at you isn’t worth it, while the girl that actually requires effort to catch is the one who’s worth it in the end.”
Evan nodded in a satisfied manner. “Exactly.”
Phoebe thought it over. “That’s actually not a bad analysis. Although, what if it’s the other way around?”
Evan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What if the girl you’re looking for thinks you’re the one sitting back and waiting for her to come to you? What if you’re mistaking that girl for the wrong one when she is actually the right one?”
Evan opened his mouth and took a breath to say something, but then snapped it shut, and his frown became more pronounced. “Are you ever wrong about anything?”
Phoebe laughed. “Probably not,” she said sarcastically. “But, even though I’ve completely ruined your logic, I’ll save you a dance.”
Evan’s smile flashed; he got over things rather quickly. “I think you owe me two now.”
“Fine, but you owe me one complaint-free match for your attempt to use me as your test subject.”
Evan frowned again. “Fine,” he grumbled.
Jared was still staring at his brother in disbelief. The band at the end of the room slowly gathered up their instruments again. Ethan and Lucy drifted off, as did Cynthia and Jared. Evan looked around for a few minutes before spotting a girl who was looking around nervously, and he went over to ask her to dance. Phoebe was pretty sure her name was Anna. Hector eyed Phoebe warily.
“I can’t make any promises about my dancing abilities,” he said.
Phoebe smiled. “Well, you should have told me that before I promised you a dance, then. I don’t want to be limping later.”
He laughed his deep, booming laugh. “I didn’t mean I was bad; I meant I might just be too good for you to keep up with, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to tone it down.”
“Well, I’ll try to keep up.”
Hector’s eyes sparkled in amusement. The first few notes of the song started to play, and Hector grabbed hold of Phoebe’s waist while his other hand connected with hers. He was surprisingly gentle, considering he sometimes forgot how easy it was for him to hurt someone. It was strange, for several reasons, to have Hector with his arms around her like this. His body temperature was warm, and although his hold was gentle, it was firm. He actually was a very good dancer, but nothing Phoebe couldn’t handle. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why she didn’t feel entirely comfortable.
His eyes were intense as his forehead wrinkled in concentration.
“I didn’t realize dancing required so much effort for you. Don’t hurt yourself,” she joked.
He shook his head slightly. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
Phoebe watched his eyes carefully, trying to discern what thought process was going on in his closed mind. But even after weeks of friendship, it was nearly impossible to figure out what he was thinking about.
“What, then?” she asked.
“I’m still trying to turn my talent off. If nothing else in the world would make me feel safe, I should at least feel safe with you.”
Her heart thumped unevenly, and heat crept up in her face. “What do you mean?”
He studied her intently before he answered. “You’re the only person in this world who can beat me. If I can’t feel safe with you, then what else is there?”
Phoebe wasn’t even entirely sure if they were still dancing. Her brain seemed to be disconnected from her spinal cord. “I’m not the only one. There are three other Masters and the Shamarian.”
“Dorian has only beaten me once—by chance. You’re the only one who can beat me on a regular basis and by skill.” He was trying to make a point, whether to her or to himself, Phoebe wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know, Hector. I wish I could help you.”
His grip tightened on her hand and waist. She immediately had to channel his talent to counteract his grip before it became too tight and crushed her. She felt the change in her skin as it hardened and resisted his grip. His face turned sheepish.
“I’m sorry. It’s just frustrating. I mean, I think it would be frustrating. I don’t quite remember the finer emotions. It’s just that you being here should be helping me.”
Phoebe let go of his talent as he loosened his grip. “You’ll figure it out. Just like Ethan will eventually discover his talents, even though he doesn’t think he even has any.”
“You have a lot of hope.”
“No, those are just things I know.”
Phoebe may have managed to gain some portion of control over her emotions, and she may have come to terms with the world around her, but she still had no hope.
Phoebe could find no reason to believe that this war would end in anything less than death. No matter which side won, people were going to die. It was only a matter of time. Two more people had just died trying to help others on the outside. People had been upset. But angry? Motivated to act? Not even close. If anything, they had cut themselves off from it even more.
Notes of the song that Hector and Phoebe had been dancing to bridged over into another one. “Dorian’s not back yet. Do you mind if we keep dancing?” he asked.
She frowned and glanced around. It had been over fifteen minutes. How long did it take to get some food? “I guess not,” she said as she glanced around for a glint of silver from Dorian’s hair.
Hector noticed her distraction. “Is something wrong?”
Her pulse picked up, and she felt uneasy. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t he have been back by now?”
Hector chuckled. “Am I that bad of company?”
Phoebe stopped dancing and turned several times as she frantically searched for Dorian. “Something’s wrong.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hector glance around. “Phoebe, what are you talking about? Everything’s fine.”
Her breathing became uneven, and her heart beat painfully. “No, something’s wrong.”
She started shoving her way through couples, with Hector following behind her. She kept pushing through people, ignoring their exclamations of surprise and irritation, as she followed the smell of food. That’s where Dorian should have been. There were so many people packed into the training arena that she couldn’t keep track of the scent of his skin. She strained her ears for the sound of his voice.
In the rational part of her mind, she couldn’t figure out why she was acting so unreasonably. All she knew was that her instincts were telling her something was definitely wrong. Not just telling her—screaming at her.
Phoebe brushed by someone and felt a blazing hot hand on her arm. Cynthia. She pushed past her and Jared, and Hector quickly gave them an explanation for her odd behavior. Evan was dancing with Anna just ahead of her. Upon noticing Phoebe’s peculiar behavior, he apologized to the girl and came to stand in front of his friend.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he looked over Phoebe’s shoulder to those who were following behind her.
“Dorian. Have you seen him?” she asked frantically.
“He went that way a few minutes ago. Why?” Evan pointed to her right.
Phoebe didn’t bother to answer because as soon as she turned her head, she picked up h
is scent. She followed the trail, and as it got stronger, so did her anxiety. She could feel many eyes and hushed whispers following her. She didn’t really care. Finally, she saw the light dance off of the silver of his hair. He had his back to her, but he clearly looked all right. She pushed closer to him as she sighed in relief. Then he turned gracefully, and the two couples blocking her line of sight moved.
Ice slipped down into Phoebe’s stomach.
She froze in place while blood rushed into her ears and the music became muted and far away. Her breaths were shallow and quick, and she felt like a pillow was being pressed over her face. Her lungs were not taking in any oxygen from the air as she stared at the scene before her.
She wanted to run, to scream…to kill. But she couldn’t make her body move.
Hector stepped up behind her, and she felt a solid hand in the small of her back. “Phoebe? What’s wrong? What’s going—”
“What the hell?” Evan exclaimed, cutting Hector off.
“No way,” Cynthia breathed.
“I can’t believe it,” Jared said, and his tone relayed his disbelief.
“What?” Hector asked.
“That’s Kali,” Ethan whispered in horror.
Hector sucked in a breath of comprehension. “Oh.” He had heard the stories, but he had never actually seen Kali before that very moment.
Phoebe wasn’t sure when Ethan and Lucy had joined them. All she knew was that Ethan’s two little words had confirmed exactly what she was seeing. She had desperately hoped that it was an illusion, that maybe she had unknowingly been sucked into one of Kali’s fantasies. Her elixir was due to wear off within the next twelve hours, so it was a plausible explanation. Except for the fact that everyone else could see it too.
“Is she okay?” Phoebe heard Jared ask.
“I don’t know. What should we do?” Cynthia muttered.
They couldn’t do anything. Kali had a blissful smile on her perfect face as she leaned against Dorian’s chest. The two of them were dancing together, lost in their own little world. Dorian twirled her long, curly hair between his fingers as his cheek rested against the top of her head.
Tears stung Phoebe’s eyes.
She felt a small hand squeeze hers. “Phoebe? Phoebe? Come on, let’s get out of here.” The soft melodic voice of Lucy was easy to recognize.
She still couldn’t move. And no matter how much the couple horrified her, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. She couldn’t even tell how she felt about it. Angry? Betrayed? Destroyed…yes, that one seemed fitting. Her heart was shredding into a million painful pieces. She wished someone would take her away, far away. But she couldn’t believe that Dorian would do this to her. He couldn’t. She was sure that something about what she was seeing was all wrong. Hector’s hand clenched into a fist in her back as Evan leaned down to assess her expression.
Evan’s face hardened into angry lines. He glanced up at Hector. “Let’s go,” he muttered.
Hector’s hand left Phoebe’s back, and he brushed past her. Evan turned and moved forward with him as they bore down on Dorian and Kali. Cynthia became hotter and hotter as her anger flared. Lucy went rigid beside Phoebe as she watched Hector and Evan reach Dorian. She wanted to hear what was being said, but the sound of her racing heartbeat and the blood rushing in her ears was too loud.
Hector grabbed Dorian’s arm and flung him back. Dorian winced in pain. Hurt as Phoebe was, she wanted to yell at Hector to stop hurting him. She clamped her mouth shut and felt angry with herself for feeling even the slightest bit of sympathy for the man who had just ripped her to pieces.
Evan didn’t even give Kali the chance to process what was happening. As she glanced around in surprise, he drew back his fist and swung. There was a sickening, but satisfying, crunch as his fist connected with her jaw. Her head snapped back, and she crumpled to the floor. Phoebe’s eyes snapped back to Dorian, and she saw that he was fighting against Hector’s iron grip. His eyes were firmly fixed on the crumpled figure.
Fire burned through Phoebe’s veins, and for the first time, she moved with her hands clenching into fists. Sound burst back into her ears.
“What’s wrong with you?” Hector demanded of Dorian.
“You hurt her. Let me go, now,” Dorian commanded.
Hector snarled and twisted Dorian’s arms behind his back as Evan stepped into his face. “No, you hurt her. Phoebe? Remember her?” Evan growled as he pointed at her.
Dorian’s eyes flashed to Phoebe’s for a fraction of a second. That’s all it took for her to see the emotion there. Pain. But this pain he was feeling for Kali—not her. Phoebe’s hope that there was some other explanation for his behavior vanished. Dorian looked back at Hector and Evan with a fierce expression, so fierce that Phoebe didn’t even attempt to assess his thoughts, scared of what she’d hear.
“Let me go,” Dorian said firmly.
“Let him go, Hector.” It took Phoebe a moment to realize that it was her whispered command that made Hector back off.
Hector and Evan took one look at her before they both backed away from Dorian. He glared at both of them briefly before he knelt beside Kali. The fire faded from Phoebe’s veins and was slowly replaced by ice. Literally. Her blood froze into place, and her heartbeat slowed. The pain was too much. She was trying to numb the ripping, shredding, and gouging pain inside her chest.
Phoebe slowly realized that the music had stopped as people and creatures gathered around to see what was going on. There was noise, noise all around her. Whispering. Idle gossip. Yet another infamous display put on by the Masters of Elements to keep things interesting. Their whispering was as loud as screaming in her ears. She had to get out. She had to get away from the sickening display of concern that was being shown by him for her.
Phoebe couldn’t move. Every fluid in her body was frozen solid. Her heart had stopped beating. She wondered how long it would take for her to die if she stayed frozen like this, her tissue denied a fresh supply of oxygen.
Hector and Evan turned back to her, and Hector’s eyes widened in horror. He reached out and touched Phoebe’s arm but quickly drew back, like he had been burned.
“She’s frozen.” His voice was filled with concern. The others immediately turned to look at her, and each one of them touched her arm to confirm the diagnosis.
“What do we do?” Jared asked.
Hector thought for exactly two seconds. “Cynthia, get your arms around her and get your temperature as hot as you can get it without bursting into flames. Evan, try to reverse the freezing process. If her heart is stopped for too long, she’ll die.”
Cynthia moved into action immediately, and her sizzling hot arms locked around Phoebe. This time, Phoebe could feel the heat. She was sure her skin should have been melting beneath Cynthia’s, because that’s what it felt like. Although, given the choice, Phoebe would choose this physical pain over her broken heart any day.
Evan stared at her intently while his eyes blazed with concentration. Cynthia became hotter and hotter, and if Phoebe had been capable of doing so, she would have been screaming at the top of her lungs. And still, even when she thought it was impossible, Cynthia’s temperature escalated. Surely, if Phoebe’s own frozen body didn’t kill her, then the unbearable pain of the heat would. Suddenly, miraculously, it all faded as her entire body unfroze and her powers blocked out the fire.
Hector breathed a sigh of relief. “Great job, guys. Now, let’s get out of here.”
As Hector moved and unblocked Phoebe’s view, and the original reason behind her frozen body rammed through her chest again. She had almost forgotten, through all the pain, what had led to it in the first place. Why couldn’t they have let her die?
She turned and fled from the room. Running felt good, but she had nowhere left to go. Nowhere that they couldn’t follow her. As she ran, she thought over every possible place she could go. The tunnels—they could follow her and she could only go so far before she ran into people again. Outside—this
appealed to Phoebe, but no matter how much she wanted to fade into blackness, she couldn’t doom all these people to that fate along with her. The garden—too easy to find her.
They weren’t following her, yet.
Then it occurred to her. There was one place inside these walls that only she could go. No one could follow her there. She could be alone. She turned up the next hallway leading to the entrance halls. She ran through both halls, flung open the front doors, and then turned left and ran flat out toward the lake.
The freezing air and calf-deep snow hardly bothered her. She ran to the edge of the lake and jumped into the air. Phoebe’s legs bonded together and erupted in scales as they transformed into a flowing tail. Her dress faded into her skin as scales covered her chest. Gills erupted down her back, in between her ribs, and she dived gracefully into the icy water. She swam down a hundred yards and turned to freeze the surface of the lake behind her. They could get through the ice easily, but it was a sign that she wanted to be left alone.
31. Protect
As soon as Phoebe had fled the ballroom, the tension dissipated and everyone sighed in unison. Nobody—aside from Lucy—paid the slightest bit of attention to Dorian and Kali anymore.
“What do we do now?” Evan had asked. He was perched on the balls of his feet like he was going to go after her.
“Nothing. Not yet anyway. We need to give her some time to cool off. If we go after her now, it will just make her angry.” Ethan was surprised that these words had come from Jared.
“Are you crazy? You know what she’s capable of when she’s upset. We need to start moving before she gets too far!” Ethan exclaimed.
They didn’t have to force themselves on her; they just had to know where she was to make sure she didn’t do anything she would regret later. Ethan felt a prickling sensation on his neck, and it suddenly occurred to him that the entire room was still watching and listening to them. He glanced around at the hundreds of blank expressions directed right at them.
Then he heard the most welcome voice in the world. “Let’s move along, shall we? I am at a loss to understand why our extremely talented band has quit playing their delightful music.”
