Turning Tides (Elements, Book 3)

by Mia Marshall

  My mother stood, and though her spine was stiff and her face set, her hands shook. “I think I would know if my own daughter was a dual magic. If you recall, the reason they were banned was their rampant insanity. Aidan is perfectly sane. If you can cast your mind back a full five minutes, she was the one who solved these horrible murders while the rest of us twiddled our thumbs. That is hardly the sign of an unordered mind.”

  I kept my face still, thinking the sanest, most rational thoughts I could manage. Quadratic equations. Flow charts. Actuarial tables. The whole time, the fire churned through my core, gathering strength.

  Deborah gave no sign she heard my mother. She consulted the notes she’d been given on my case. “Aidan is sixty-five. I seem to recall you took a long vacation six decades ago or so. To Hawaii. I believe I still have a postcard somewhere.” The room hung on her every word. The damn woman had picked one hell of a time to appear lucid again. “Josiah Blais lives in Hawaii, does he not?”

  Loaded looks flew between my mother and my father, between my sister and myself, trying to decide how much we could deny.

  Considering the alternative, I was happy to deny it all. “This is ludicrous. The only reason I learned dual magics exist is because I met Trent.” It was the absolute truth, and I would stick to the truth as much as I could. “I didn’t burn because I’m surrounded by water and I used it to heal my hand when it caught fire.” That part might have been a bit less true.

  “Hmmm. And why, exactly, were you visiting Trent in the first place?”

  Because I’d heard he was a half-water in a mental hospital and I was worried I might be going insane, too. Because Lana told me about him when I visited her, hoping for answers before I knew the truth could kill me. Because it was the only way I could figure out what I was.

  I couldn’t say any of it, and Deborah saw my hesitation. “Light her on fire,” she instructed the room. No one moved. “Very well. I will do it. Someone bring me gasoline.”

  Josiah stepped between us. “This isn’t a witch hunt, Rivers, where we throw the accused into water and watch them drown to prove their innocence. If you light her on fire, she will burn.”

  Deborah scoffed. “As she said, she is surrounded by her element. It will take her mere moments to heal herself. Though Ms. Brook, I do suggest you wait at least a few seconds before doing so. A bit of singed flesh will prove your innocence much faster than this incessant prattling.”

  There was no way out. It was over, and part of me was relieved. The secret had only grown heavier the last several months as I became more and more of a danger to people I loved. I already felt like I’d been living under a death sentence since learning what I was. Making it official felt like the logical next step.

  But there was Mac and Sera. Simon and Miriam. Vivian and the agents, watching the drama unfold with matching expressions of alarm. I wasn’t ready to leave them, or my mother and Grams. Even Josiah might, on occasion, demonstrate a redeeming quality. My exposure as a dual magic would affect him and my mother as well. A century of incarceration for any parent who harbored a dual magic child.

  The way Deborah looked at him now, she had little doubt who my father was.

  There was only one thing for it. I had to run. I had to run before my status was confirmed, before my parents were condemned and all our fates sealed.

  I had no second plan. This wasn’t something I could talk my way out of. I needed to start running and never stop.

  I sought Mac’s eyes and found them, as ever, on me, full of a comfort no one else could offer.

  He reached out his hand, my anchor in the storm. And somehow, in the middle of the worst moment of my life, I knew. I loved this man, with everything I was. It might be my magic that had staked a claim on his body, but he’d possessed me far longer than that. He would go with me, I knew. He would give up his life to run with me, as long as I needed him, and though it was weak and selfish, I’d never been so glad of anything in my life.

  “Let’s go.” I took his hand, prepared to leave. Prepared to find whatever life awaited the condemned and the crazy.

  I overlooked one small detail. I might have been willing to disappear forever, or at least until we came up with a workable plan. My protective parents had a different plan.

  “No.”

  They weren’t the only ones who spoke. Deborah and Lydia, Lana and David, they all wanted me to stay for their own reasons.

  Josiah looked at each person in the room, turning his merciless black eyes on them one at a time. They all tried to hold his gaze, but only Deborah had the years and power to back it up.

  At last, when he was certain everyone waited to hear his next words, he stepped next to me and curled his hand around my arm, the one that wasn’t gripping Mac’s hand. The touch was light, but there was no missing the strength behind it.

  I’d known Josiah was my father for months now. He’d spent most of that time trying, and failing, to convince me he loved me as a daughter. In all that time, he’d never touched me.

  Sera stared at his fingers, wrapped around my elbow, and her eyes turned even blacker than her father’s. That was my only warning for what was about to happen.

  “Aidan Brook is my daughter,” he announced to the room.

  I expected cacophony, screams and noise and an onslaught of question. Instead, everyone was too stunned to speak.

  He continued, unconcerned with the room’s reaction. He spoke with confidence an award-winning actor wouldn’t be able to reproduce. He spoke as one who has walked upon the earth for thousands of years and wielded power most can only dream of. He spoke as a man used to getting his way, and one who expected to get his way this time, as well.

  “She is my daughter, and she is a dual magic, and I will not allow her fate to be decided by an archaic law passed in the middle ages. As Fiona pointed out, she is not insane.”

  The fire unspooling through my body as Josiah sealed my fate was less certain. It was busy thinking this room would look better with flames kissing the wallpaper and carpets, with the door blocked by a thick wall of fire that would prevent anyone from following me. My enemies, all who knew what I was, they could die in that room.

  I felt it detach, as it had before. I felt it stretch and grin, ready to deal death more eagerly than it ever had before. I was a spectator to its thirst for destruction.

  I stared across the room, and the smile forming on my lips stilled. My mother would not survive that. My aunts and grandmother would not.

  And so I pulled it back with a vicious tug. I couldn’t even tell which part of me fought anymore, whether it was the water struggling to reassert itself or my fire hesitating in the face of my loved ones. It didn’t matter. I took it back, controlled it, and beat insanity for one more day.

  Josiah continued to speak, and the room still hung on his every word. No one had seen my lapse. No one except Mac, whose grip on my hand tightened enough that I might have a bruise the next day. It was a silent reminder that, whatever happened in this room, he wasn’t letting me go.

  “We created this law when there were hundreds of dual magics and we possessed few resources to track them. That is hardly the case in our modern world. Trent Pond’s parents practically bought the institution, and it has done an excellent job of preventing him from harming others. We can learn about this condition, rather than eliminate it from fear.”

  Lydia’s expression vacillated between suspicion and an uneasy hope. “That’s why you were researching the dual magics. You weren’t trying to kill them. You were looking for a cure.”

  “I was looking for a solution. You cannot cure someone of their magic. And yet, if the humans can treat schizophrenia and other mental diseases, shouldn’t we be able to do the same to our own? I recognize that we do not like change, but neither do we like being surpassed by humans. We have not needed to face the problems of a dual magic in centuries. Now, we have no choice, and I am telling you we must do so with civility, rather than barbarism.”

  My
family were still stunned, and I couldn’t begin to fathom how many bottles of wine the aunts would demolish that night.

  Lana and Lydia listened to every word. I guessed their thoughts were with a dual magic far to the south, living in a small windowless room in Eureka.

  Deborah looked at no one but Josiah. “Change for its own sake is meaningless, and your argument fails to address the reasons we initially chose barbarism, as you put it. I remember the havoc wreaked by the duals. One thousand years ago, I watched a village burn because a child was denied a toy. I watched an entire island drown under the weight of one man’s unrequited love.”

  “I too remember such events, Deborah. That does not negate the need for—”

  Deborah continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “I also remember you killed one of our own, Josiah Blais. Whatever the circumstances, Rachel’s blood is on your hands. You are not a man whose opinion I will consider. The girl will have a trial, and if she is found guilty, she will die. That is our law, and it will not be broken. Not this day.”

  Josiah nodded, as if coming to a decision. “You are outnumbered by those who wish otherwise.”

  “Is that a threat? There will already be a severe backlash against this island. Two of our number have died on its shores. If Michael and I fail to return, the Brook clan will be known as the family that slaughtered an entire council to protect their girl. Vengeance will be swift, and it will be absolute. Threaten me if it pleases you, but if you act on it, this island will be destroyed. You know what must happen. Lydia has accepted her fate and will die tomorrow. Aidan’s trial will be postponed until a quorum can be assembled. Anything else would be disastrous to the residents of this island.”

  By the time Deborah finished, my aunts were standing, and for the first time since I arrived, there wasn’t a single hint of intoxication in their eyes. My mother and Grams held hands, and I suspected it had less to do with comfort than with merging their magic together. Lana looked back and forth, appearing unsure of pretty much everything. The rest of us, we watched Josiah, waiting to see his reaction.

  “You forget, Deborah. History is written by the winner. There will be no one left to tell your version of the story.” He blinked, and her clothes were on fire.

  The room took a moment to inhale, to accept what we were seeing, to choose a course of action.

  Then battle was joined.

  The fire only lasted a second before Deborah was drenched with water. It was impossible to know if she’d been the one to call it. I didn’t think she had many friends in the room, but Lana rose and stood beside her, and David followed. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I understood they were only following the law. They likely believed they were making the right choice.

  The rest of my mind thought it was a betrayal.

  Josiah didn’t have a chance to strike again before Deborah retaliated, sending a thick stream of water soaring into his nostrils and mouth. He coughed, but she was relentless, filling his lungs with water until he was unable to steal a single breath. It didn’t matter how fast he burned the water off. She had a limitless supply, and her focus never wavered.

  Someone else jumped in, fighting to draw the water from his lungs and allow Josiah time for a breath. Someone powerful enough to neutralize the strongest water in the room. My mother and Grams, hands still locked and all their attention on Deborah, fought to save my father. As each stream of water rushed toward Josiah, they pulled another from his lungs, giving him precious seconds of oxygen.

  I’d only fought one other elemental in earnest, and I’d killed him. I’d hoped to never do so again, but at least this time there was a key difference. This time, I wasn’t alone.

  Josiah now stood in front of me, my very own elemental shield. Mac remained on one side, and Sera moved to the other. They wore matching determined expressions. They would fight for me to the bitter end, if need be.

  I took quick stock. On our side, we had the most powerful fire elemental I’d ever met and my sister, who could more than hold her own. Grams could easily take Michael. My mother and aunts were full waters, and though they were younger than Deborah, there were more of them.

  On their side, they had a loopy half-water, her grudge-bearing stone boyfriend, one full-blooded council member, and possibly the strongest water in existence. By all accounts, they could not win.

  No one had bothered to give them the memo.

  Deborah showed no hint of fatigue as she continued to pour water into Josiah’s lungs. It kept my mother and Grams busy on defense, leaving no one available to help when Deborah split the stream in two and sent the other half toward Sera.

  The water forced its way through the seam of her lips, the pressure too great to withstand. Water flooded her mouth and slid down her windpipe.

  When she looked at me, she wasn’t scared. She was pissed off, the pure anger of a fire. It didn’t call to me. It shouted my name while stamping its foot and waving an enormous red flag.

  I was so close to the edge. If I let the fire loose, I might never come back.

  If I didn’t let the fire loose, I couldn’t battle Deborah.

  I don’t recall making the choice. I only knew the fire rushed through me, filling every cell in my body, ecstatic to be free. It demanded to be fed, and there was a target before me, one who would kill my sister and father if no one stopped her.

  She was one of the oldest and most powerful waters in existence.

  Me, I was a fucking dual magic, capable of harnessing two elements and bending them to my will. Also, I might be nuts.

  The worst thing about battling a crazy person? You never knew what they would do next.

  I didn’t try to light Deborah on fire. Her clothes still bore black marks from Josiah’s effort, but she’d doused the fire too quickly for it to do any real damage.

  Instead, I enclosed her in a circle of flames, and drew them high, blocking her line of vision. She had no choice but to release Sera and Josiah, bringing the water back to herself in an effort to douse the flames.

  I couldn’t let her do it. She was trapped, and she needed to remain that way.

  I sent a silent prayer into the void, that what I was about to do wouldn’t seal my fate. While the fire burnt, I reached for my water magic. It hesitated, its uncertainty almost palpable.

  Once, I’d been unable to use both elements simultaneously. Anger would trigger my fire and block access to the water.

  Then I’d needed to use both, to save Mac, and I’d discovered the secret. All I needed to do was isolate the elements from each other and risk furthering the schism to my psyche.

  Hey, crazy still beat dead.

  I imagined the fire was limited to the right side of my body, and when it resisted, I slammed it into my arm, my leg, my torso, freeing up the left side for the water magic to roam free. As it did, something inside me disconnected. My compassion, or my empathy. Whatever part of me chose not to kill others, that part was silenced as I discovered what it truly meant to be a dual magic.

  All this took a second, perhaps less. The water surged forward, grasping the waves Deborah was drawing toward the fire. I yanked and felt resistance from her magic, her full blood still stronger than my half.

  The water wasn’t enough on its own, so I added the fire magic. It boosted its power, pushing it harder and faster than it could move on its own. It was almost easy to steal Deborah’s stream of water and send it toward my mother and Grams. I trusted they would keep it from her.

  The two elements danced together in my body, more power than I’d have believed my skin and bones and blood could hold, and yet I did not crack. I grew to fit the power, my body expanding and stretching to make room for it all. I was shocked to discover my clothes still fit, my shoes remained on my feet. Based on how I felt, I ought to be nine feet tall.

  This was why. This was why no one ever sought a cure for dual magics. It was why we were a threat to be eliminated.

  We were pure power. We were stronger than the oldest of the old
ones. Compared to Deborah, I should have been a mere speck, easily flicked and forgotten.

  Instead, I was going to destroy her.

  I made the flames spin around her, a deadly promise of the power I wielded, and I smiled.

  Of course, the old ones also might have wanted us dead because dual magics really seemed to enjoy killing people.

  Just one more, I whispered. I would find a way to control myself, but first I needed just one more death.

  There was pressure on my left hand, squeezing so hard I could no longer move my fingers.

  “Aidan, come back. God damn it, Aidan. Answer me.”

  I twisted my neck and was surprised I needed to look up, into brown eyes that told stories and promises I still hoped to hear someday.

  “Your eyes.” The words were low, a horrified whisper. He’d never seen me like this, I remembered. “They’re so dark. Almost slate. Aidan, this isn’t right. I can feel it, too. The water, it’s not stable.”

  “It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.” It just took me this long to realize it.

  I was ready to end this. I tightened the circle of flames around Deborah.

  I yelped, a sharp pain on my right arm demanding my attention. “What the hell?” I turned to see Sera, face set in harsh lines, pinching my arm over and over again, her fingers practically meeting through the walls of skin and muscle.

  “Knock this shit off, H2O.” I sensed her own magic then, reaching for the flames I controlled and trying to push me out of the way.

  She wouldn’t succeed, not unless I chose to let go. I wasn’t ready to do that.

  “Let the fires handle this.” I knew that voice. I knew the certainty and confidence I’d borrowed every day of our friendship. She was right.

  I didn’t want her to be. “No.” I whispered the word, but the force of my refusal was so loud I might as well have shouted it. I held fast to the fire, ready to finish what I’d begun.

  I didn’t get the chance before I found myself on the library floor, struggling under the weight of a well-muscled otter shifter.