The Elementalist

by Melissa J. Cunningham

  “This man, Adam, tried to kill you?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “And he succeeded enough to set Alisa free. I’m not sure what it means, or why he did it, but she was supposed to stay inside of me. Stuck. Like a prison. They wanted her out of the way.”

  “Who are they?” He looked into Claire’s eyes, his distress evident, and the way he kept touching her arm… She knew he wanted to pull her into an embrace, to kiss her, to be her boyfriend—as corny as that sounded—but she kept him at a distance like she always had. More out of habit than anything else.

  His expression created an ache inside her, for a connection with someone who cared. Could it be a mistake to keep pushing him away? Should she let their friendship evolve into something more? The temptation was so strong that she leaned into him, and his arms automatically surrounded her. A tear escaped her eye and slid down her freckled cheek, splashing onto his arm. He held her tighter.

  And she held him right back.

  41

  ~Breaking up~

  Brecken

  Alisa returned to Brecken, wearing a smile that radiated like the sun, but it was quickly lost when she saw his face. “Brecken? What’s wrong?” She moved closer, her arms surrounding him.

  His only thought was of losing her again, just when he had gotten her back. It made him ache so thoroughly that he fell onto the bed, not knowing how to answer her. He couldn’t tell her the truth… that she’d be safer far, far away in Elysium. She’d never leave of her own accord. She would stand by his side, fight the demons of hell, and be taken, just like Lilim threatened. He knew firsthand what they would do to her. He’d personally done the torturing once upon a time. He couldn’t risk it. He had to make her leave. He had to make her want to leave, but how? It seemed there was only one way to do that.

  It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but it was a choice between heaven or hell for her. Literally. He did the one thing that would surely tear his beating heart from his chest.

  “I don’t want you here anymore,” he said in the most frustrated tone he could muster, frowning and pacing around his room. “You’re ruining everything.” He had to make her believe his feelings were real. That he didn’t love her, need her, or want her anymore.

  “Brecken?” Her smile fell as though she knew something worse was coming.

  “I’m supposed to get on with my life. I have to go to college, meet someone, get married, and all that. I want to have kids and live in a little house with a white picket fence. You can’t give that to me, can you?” He was rambling, he knew, but he couldn’t seem to get his thoughts straight. His heart pounded in his chest and if he didn’t do this quickly, he’d truly die of heart failure. Or more accurately, heartbreak. “If you stay here, you’ll destroy my chance at redemption.”

  “No…” Alisa looked shocked and didn’t respond quickly. “I thought…”

  “Thought what? What did you think?” He stared at her in annoyance, his eyebrows pulled down, his soul aching. He didn’t want her to get a word in. She’d say something to change his mind or she would start to cry. He had to keep talking, so she couldn’t.

  “I thought we could be together… this way,” she said softly, her arms gesturing to the both of them.

  “In what way? You’re a ghost, and I’m in a body.” He shook his head, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. He didn’t let them fall though, just gritted his teeth and continued. “I have things to do before I can get into heaven. Before I can be redeemed and forgiven. I can’t fail. You have to understand that. You do want me to make it to heaven, right? You don’t want me to rot in hell for all eternity, do you?” His expression, although irritated and angry, begged her to understand. To let him go.

  “Brecken. How could I ever—?”

  “Please, Alisa. I’m sorry, but… I don’t want you.” He glanced at her, holding back the tears that threatened to bloom in his eyes. He’d never let anyone see him cry before. “I’ve decided to… to love Hannah.” That was the last nail in the coffin. He knew it would break whatever they’d had, once and for all.

  This seemed to stop her and instead of tears, she squared her shoulders, her mouth hardening in to a tight, flat line. “You’re being stupid, Brecken. I’m not leaving you.”

  He faced her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, you are.”

  “No. And you can’t make me.”

  “Actually, I can.”

  “Oh, right. Like you’re going to command me to leave as though I’m some evil spirit?” She said it like a joke, but he could hear the trembling in her voice.

  “I can.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “I would.”

  “Why?” she said in a rush, and before he could blink she was before him, her arms thrown around him, her touch making his whole body tingle in misery for what he was doing. He searched her face, so full of pain and rejection. She placed her hand on his arm, and he let all of his emotion wash into her in a wave that would surely be overwhelming. He kept his eyes cold, his expression stony, even though he knew it would tear her apart.

  “This isn’t happening.” She pressed her fist to her chest; the ache in her expression almost making him forget the whole thing. “All right,” she whispered. “I’ll go.” She didn’t cry, but she looked like she wanted to. His heart bled with a yearning so intense that it felt like he was dying all over again.

  “Before I leave,” she said. “You should be aware that something is wrong in Idir Shaol. I’m not sure what, but I’m going to find out. This might be the last time…”

  He couldn’t let her finish. It hurt too much. Looking at her now—her face, her eyes, her lips—ripped him apart. He’d break down if she stayed any longer.

  “Don’t go to Idir Shoal, Alisa. It’s probably not safe. Go back to Elysium. But get out of here and don’t come back. I mean it.”

  Her frown deepened into a scowl of denial. “You know what? It’s none of your business where I go. Live your human life. Have your college experience and get married. Have a ton of kids. I don’t care!” She stared him down, and before he could say anything, Alisa did what she did best.

  She left.

  42

  ~A Room with a View~

  Alisa

  My heart was absolutely breaking, but I couldn’t hold Brecken back from achieving redemption. I couldn’t keep him from progressing just because I wanted to be with him. Letting him love someone else would kill me—figuratively—but after what I’d already been through, what difference would it make? I was already broken. I’d always understood that.

  So, with my broken heart, I sought out Raphael, who had always had the ability to help me gain perspective. This was so terribly hard. Devastating, actually, and I needed counsel.

  Closing my eyes, I pictured the little hamlet in heaven—Idir Shaol. I’d appeared there so many times that it took no effort at all. I wasn’t even aware anything was different at first. Light filled the city, just as it always had. People visited on the street, although in softer tones, and guardians still bustled in and out of the library.

  I didn’t recognize anyone.

  As I walked, armed soldiers appeared on the street corners, bearing swords. I studied their faces, and they watched me with distrust. When I reached Raphael’s building and walked in, everything looked different. The crystal vases that had stood in each corner of the reception area were gone, replaced with ebony monstrosities that contained noxious plant life with wicked thorns. I’d never seen anything like them before.

  The sheer, white curtains that had graced the wide windows were absent, replaced by deep burgundy drapes that hid every ounce of illumination that used to brighten the inside of this edifice. Dark, blood-red carpets hid the white marble flooring. I stopped to stare; it was that shocking.

  “Hello, Alisa. So nice of you to drop in.”

  I turned in surprise.

  Adam? Oh. No.

  Before I could blink away, he grabbed my arm, dragge
d me down the hall, and shoved me into Raphael’s old office. He slammed the door behind us and turned to me, glaring. “You’ve made a massive mistake coming back here, lesser guardian.”

  “I see that. Where’s Raphael?”

  “Not here.”

  “Tell me where he is!”

  “You don’t know? Interesting.” We glowered at one another, and then his face softened into an indulgent smile. “Where are my manners? Would you like anything to drink? To eat?”

  “No.” What an idiot.

  “Well then. You have two options. You can either join our ranks, or be delivered to Soul Prison.” He relished my stunned expression. I felt his glee as though it was wafting from him like body odor.

  I shook my head slowly, trying to stall, to figure out a way of escape. “You’re forcing angels to follow you now?”

  “Number one, you’re not an angel, and two, we don’t force. Everyone still has their free will… more or less,” he said, slipping around the desk to sit in Raphael’s old chair, leaving the way to the door free. He intertwined his fingers over his stomach, reclining in the chair. “Go ahead. Try it,” he said, as though he could read my mind.

  “Fine.” I closed my eyes and pictured my parent’s home. Nothing happened. Adam’s smile deepened, and his grin stoked my feelings of fury and impotence. I tried again.

  Nothing. I was blocked.

  “Having trouble?”

  “Let me go.”

  “No.”

  Rather than argue or wait, I ran for the door, but he was out of his chair and had his arms around me faster than I could have imagined. He lifted me from my feet, tossing me to the couch where I’d visited with Raphael so many times.

  “You can’t keep me here!”

  “Oh, we won’t keep you here. Guards!” Two burly men entered the room. “This guardian would like a nice, warm space inside Gehenna.” They placed black, iron shackles on my wrists—that would keep me from blinking away. I knew they worked since I’d tried—and they were painfully heavy in a strangely spiritual way, pulling me down into sorrow. Not unlike the feelings I had when visiting Soul Prison.

  “You can’t do this!” I screeched when the soldiers grabbed my arms.

  Adam strode up to me—close enough that if I leaned forward an inch, our noses would touch. “I can and I have. Goodbye, Alisa Callahan.”

  ***

  It happened quickly.

  Before I could even argue, we disappeared from Raphael’s office and reappeared at the gates of Soul Prison. The wailing, though distant, slithered toward me, coiling around my legs and torso, the piercing cries of the damned welcoming me.

  “No,” I groaned, my strength slipping away, my knees buckling. I had a basic idea what was in store for me. “Please.”

  The demons stepped through the black gates without hesitation or fear, as though the stickiness and the heat were a familiar comfort. They dragged me between them, because by this time, I was a blubbering idiot and couldn’t even stand.

  There was only one thought in my mind, and that was that I could not come back here, let alone stay as a prisoner. My darkest fears bubbled to the surface—memories of Mr. Roland, and my old roommate, Deedree, who resided here somewhere—struck terror to my center.

  I realized Andras and Lamia were almost certainly waiting for me too, set free as ruling demons. They had to be aware of what was happening and had probably taken command of the hordes that guarded Soul Prison.

  The ache of tears pressed against my eyes, a crippling throb inside my head. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t real… but it was. The strange grass that existed here stabbed at my bare feet as the demon-soldiers pulled me deeper into the bowels of hell. The pain was real. The sorrow here was real. The wailing dead were real. This was happening. I was a prisoner… in Soul Prison.

  All along the path, arms writhed, reaching for us, pleading for release. A release that would never come. The air coated my tongue, my mouth, my throat—the acrid taste of the underworld sapping all hope from my heart, and the tar, ever more glutinous.

  “Please,” I begged again. “I can’t stay here. You don’t understand.”

  “Oh, we understand all right,” the demon on my right answered. “We know exactly what this place will do to you.” He smiled as though the thought brought him unimaginable pleasure. “You know, I once served under Bretariel,” he said.

  His words barely penetrated my mind, but then the connection clicked. Brecken’s old name. Bretariel. I realized that maybe, just maybe, Brecken could help me even though he didn’t realize what was happening.

  “Then I suggest you let me go,” I said, full of false bravado. “He knows I’m here, and he’ll come looking for me!” It wasn’t true, but these idiots didn’t know that. Nor did they know that Brecken had broken up with me and had no interest in what happened to me now. I could hardly believe it myself.

  “That is exactly what we want,” he said, squeezing my arm even tighter.

  “What?” My thoughts were getting foggy, drifting, and I struggled to focus as we wandered deeper into Soul Prison. Everything the demons said slipped from my mind after I heard it, and the dread inside me grew. I was lost. We’d left the tar fields of wailing spirits and entered a building constructed of dark rock. A syrupy soot covered everything. The bottom of my robe grew stained with the sticky substance, and it worked its way up through my robes, penetrating my soul. My hair hung over my face, and the wretchedness of my situation began to sink deeper.

  “I, Folcalor, have the Guardian,” the demon on my right announced to a guard just inside the black fortress. The demon on my left had been silent, but he turned to glance at me, taking a moment to study my face.

  “So, you are the one who has stirred the pot so forcefully that even Bas Iblis has come out of hiding to lead us in rebellion.”

  I looked into his eyes, dark pits of sorrow. Remarkably, there was something in his expression, sadness or regret, which suggested his heart wasn’t completely corrupted. Who was this man, and why did he choose such an evil path? “Who are you?”

  “You don’t know me,” he said. “And I am no one of consequence.”

  “You don’t have a name?” I didn’t really care what his name was, but I was grasping at straws. They were going to leave me here. Nobody knew I’d been kidnapped, and all communication between Idir Shaol had been terminated. Was I so unimportant that heaven would sacrifice me to the underworld?

  With a tired sigh, my demon-guard said, “I am Calvik. You’ll be seeing more of me, as I am in charge of this prison.”

  I regarded him with surprise. “In charge of Soul Prison?”

  “No, Guardian. Just this building. Gehenna.”

  “I… I haven’t heard of it,” I said, trembling at the way he pronounced the strange word. Gehenna.

  Calvik and Focalor pulled me farther into the black castle, this colossal dungeon, where the screams of tortured souls cried without ceasing. I’d thought the first level of Soul Prison was bad, with its acrid air, tarry coatings, and screeching damned, but this place… it was so much darker, so much scarier… and we descended deeper still.

  Moisture seeped in through the walls and along the black bricks like sweat. As we rounded a corner, a drop happened to fall on my head. Like acid, it sizzled where it struck, creating a trail of fire down my neck, the poison spreading over my shoulders.

  Shrieking, I flailed, desperately trying to wipe away the liquid flame, but it covered me, oozing through invisible pores. That one tiny drop consumed me, and I knew in that moment what it truly meant to burn in hell.

  43

  ~Released~

  Brecken

  He couldn’t get his last conversation with Alisa out of his mind. Over and over, he heard her voice, saw her stricken eyes, and the denial in her expression. He had broken her heart. She had no idea how it had killed him to say those things.

  The ache inside him grew, but when he passed this last, final test of mortality, he�
�d find Alisa and make it right. For now, he had to let her go.

  Sitting in his dance class, he wondered what Alisa was doing right now. He would have thought she’d come back just to pester him into changing his mind. He missed her with a desperation he’d never felt before. Not in his past life and certainly not in this one.

  He shoved himself off the chair, needing to release the tension that was building inside him. He stalked over to Hannah, who sat on the bench watching him brood, waiting for her turn to dance.

  A tango was playing. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms, and within seconds, she was moving with him in perfect synchronization. He let the music whisk him away, lost in the swirl of drums and rhythm. He no longer took notice of the four walls that surrounded him, or the row of students that were watching in admiration.

  Hannah was the best dancer in the class, and he used her body as an escape, letting the music wash through his mind like an icy ocean wave, numbing the roiling yearning inside of him. He pulled Hannah closer, feeling the entire length of her body as she clung to him, a rag doll in his arms as he dipped, hooked, and crossed, interlinking his legs with hers—an intimate interchange.

  The dance left him panting and out of breath, and when the song ended, he accidentally released Hannah too abruptly. She stumbled, gazing up at him in stunned surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, and then he hurried from the studio, feeling twenty pairs of eyes boring into his back.

  Hannah followed him, but he didn’t slow his stride until he reached the grove of trees on the other side of the school. He had sat there once with Alisa, visiting on the tree branch. That day seemed so far away now and yet, like yesterday. How awful a day it had been—the misunderstandings, the arguments. How had they ever gotten together? He laughed at the memory, wishing he could go back and relive those moments.

  Hannah said nothing until she was next to him in the shade of the trees. She stared into his eyes and ran her fingers along his brow, brushing his hair back. “Brecken?” Her voice was hushed, and he almost didn’t hear her. “What’s wrong?”