The Elementalist

by Melissa J. Cunningham

  Sitting like this, so closely and openly with her mother, made Clare feel transparent, her sins laid out for inspection. Her mother’s judgments might be harsh, and yet Claire knew she had to take this step to start making things right. It was the hardest thing she had ever done… facing her demons this way.

  “Okay,” Claire sighed. “So, you were right a while back when you said practicing Elementalism would take me down a dark path of misery.”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest, but she didn’t say anything.

  Claire rushed to continue. “I was ready to quit and I promised I would. I understand your attitude about it, and I feel the same way now. It’s just… I needed to help someone, but instead I made a mess of it, and now I need your help.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  Tentatively, Claire explained, sure her mother would explode, which was what usually happened when they discussed her mistakes. “I… um… performed a spell this morning… and it, um, someone got hurt.”

  “Oh, Claire.” Angela’s voice filled with emotion, and she shook her head back and forth slowly.

  “Let me finish, Mom. I know I made a mistake. A huge one. You have no idea.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Claire started at the beginning, filling her mom in on all the details about Adam and him trying to choke the life out of her, which ultimately expelled Alisa, the spirit she’d originally called to control. She explained the spell to send Brecken to search for his guardian and how he was now in the hospital.

  At first, Angela stared at Claire, stunned as she revealed each infraction. By the end, disappointment and understanding dawned in Angela’s eyes. She reached out to hold Claire’s hand, which meant more in that moment than Claire ever realized it could. A connection was made that had never been there before on a level that had never existed for them. It was almost as though an electric current passed between them, and they no longer needed words to communicate.

  “Oh, Claire,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too, Mom.”

  “We have to fix this.” Angela walked over to the sink and leaned on the counter, letting the sunlight fall directly on her face. Turning, she gazed at her daughter, a light radiating in her eyes that Claire had never seen before.

  “How?” Claire asked. “We’d need magic.”

  “Oh, it will be magical. Don’t you worry. Not the kind you’re thinking of, but magic all the same.”

  Confused, Claire followed her mother upstairs to the master bedroom. Angela pulled a box from the top of her closet and set it on her bed, carefully opening the lid. Inside, there was only one item. A shawl. But not just any shawl. It was the whitest of white, made of gossamer so thin that Claire could see right through it. It was so delicate that when Angela picked it up, Claire was certain it would burst into a thousand tiny glitters of light.

  Angela reverently placed it over her head and around her shoulders. When she did, she glowed with an ethereal light. Claire had never seen anything so beautiful.

  “Wow, Mom. You look—”

  “Shh,” she said before Claire could finish. “This isn’t about being beautiful. This is about something very special and very sacred. Certain things should not be toyed with, Claire. The power of nature and the Earth for one.” She gazed softly into her daughter’s eyes. There was an intensity there that Claire could not misunderstand.

  “Should we go downstairs so we won’t be interrupted?” Claire asked. All of her activity had taken place in the basement, and if felt natural to do whatever they are about to do down there.

  Angela smiled with understanding, but she shook her head. “What we are about to do is not done in darkness or in secret. Never do things of this nature in darkness, Claire. Do you understand?” She looked deeply into her daughter’s eyes, and the only thing Claire could do was nod, anticipating something wonderful.

  “It is a fine line,” she explained, “playing with things that are not of this world.”

  Claire nodded, and Bas Iblis’ face swam in her mind. She knew exactly what power he used, and it was the same power she’d tapped into to bring Alisa here. A power of darkness. Nothing good could come from using those methods, and that thought stabbed her, the guilt almost overwhelming.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “I do.”

  61

  ~Old Friend~

  Brecken

  The contingent of soldiers double-timed it past both Brecken and Calvik, who hid in the shadowed corner under a cloak. Brecken’s grasp on the demon slackened in utter surprise. Calvik hadn’t exposed him. Why? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Turning the demon around so they were face to face, he gripped Calvik’s lapels tight in his fists.

  “What are you doing?” Brecken growled, his eyes searching for an answer.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “I think you’d better explain.” Brecken continued to hold him, not able to trust.

  “I knew you’d come,” Calvik said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked again.

  “If it were obvious, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?” He kept his voice low, but the feelings roiling just beneath the surface predicted a beating if Calvik didn’t speak up quickly.

  “I’m on your side,” Calvik said, his eyes soft, honest.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “And why should you?”

  “Exactly.”

  They faced each other, Brecken not wanting to relent or back down. “Why?” Brecken asked finally.

  “In case you don’t remember, I used to serve beneath you,” Calvik said.

  “I remember.”

  “You were… my ideal of the perfect soldier. You were fair, pragmatic, and loyal. Honorable,” Calvik explained. “Not the typical demon. It made me want to emulate you every chance I could. I put myself in your shoes, tried to understand your motives, and tried to make the same kinds of choices. So when things started to change… when you started to change, I could see what you were doing when no one else could. Whether you knew it or not, I made it possible for you to accomplish many of your secret assaults.”

  Brecken let go of Calvik and stepped away. “Name one time.” He wanted to believe him, but demons by trade were devious liars and could never be trusted, but he himself had changed, so why not Calvik also? He’d give him the benefit of the doubt… for about three seconds.

  “Well, for one, that time you snuck away to interview with the archangel, Raphael. You’d been meeting with him regularly.” At Brecken’s look of surprise, Calvik smiled. “I followed you, curious to see what you were up to. Bas Iblis himself came looking for you one time to give you an assignment. I told him you were on a mission, possessing a human body, which was why he couldn’t detect you anywhere.”

  Brecken turned away, remembering those clandestine meetings with Raphael. His mind whirled with astonishment. Even back then, Calvik was helping him.

  “What else?”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Not for me.”

  “All right,” Calvik said, thinking. “Okay, how about the time you were escaping for the last time? I knew it was the last time because rumors of a traitor had begun to spread like infernal hellfire. Someone was guilty of espionage, and it was only a matter of time before the evidence pointed to you. I killed the two guards who stopped you at the last gate. They were running to announce your defection. They would have succeeded if I hadn’t been in the way. You never knew about that, did you?” Calvik faced him with no fear in his eyes, nor any deception.

  “Why did you help me?”

  “Because. I feel the same way now that you did so long ago. I want out. I’m done here. I’m tired. My heart has softened. It doesn’t really matter why, does it?”

  Brecken remembered those same feelings c
learly. They were still fresh in his mind. Everything he had gone through since then had been worth it. At times though, he wondered if life would have been easier had he stayed where he was, content to be a senior officiator in the underworld.

  “Then help me get the angels out of here,” he said.

  “I was just waiting for you to ask.”

  ***

  With the keys in Calvik’s hand—because he was the only one who could wield them, having been assigned their keeper—they crept toward Raphael’s cell. All was quiet in this area of the prison. Not even the cries of the damned could be heard echoing through the halls, and for that, Brecken was grateful.

  As they skulked around the last corner, Brecken stopped, thrusting a hand out to warn Calvik. Quietly, he moved backward with a finger pressed to his lips. Calvik mouthed the question why. Brecken shook his head, motioning for him to wait. After a moment, he peeked around the corner again.

  A look of utter frustration appeared on his face. He pushed Calvik farther back into a shadowed corner behind them. When they were a safe distance from Raphael’s corridor, he whispered. “There’s a whole contingent of guards by Raphael’s cell.”

  Calvik gazed at Brecken, but he didn’t seem surprised. “They must know you’re here. Somehow, they know.”

  Brecken studied the demon’s face, his eyes, his expression, searching for deception, but he saw nothing more than honest intentions. He had to trust him. Calvik carried the keys to Alisa’s freedom.

  “It wasn’t me,” Calvik said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I would never.”

  “Then who? Who else could possibly know I’m here?”

  Then, at the very same time, they whispered together, “Bas Iblis.”

  The horror of the situation condensed like dew in Brecken’s mind. “This is bad. How will we get out?”

  “Says the Great Undoer?” Calvik said. “Have ye no faith?” A smile spread across his lips, and Brecken could see the deviousness he knew was there all along. “Watch and learn, little one. Watch, and learn, and give me some credit.”

  Before Brecken could stop him, Calvik strolled around the corner, his voice booming throughout the block. “What are you fiends doing here? Have you no idea there is an intruder?”

  Brecken could only stand and listen. There was nowhere to run. Never had he heard Calvik’s voice sound so authoritative, so fearsome, but he was not surprised, for how could the demon have climbed the ranks otherwise? A lowly footman didn’t get there by being timid or afraid.

  “Go!” he heard. “Secure the prison and Bas Iblis’ quarters at once!”

  The sound of numerous feet marching away was the only thing that reached Brecken’s ears, and after a short time, quiet reigned once again. Calvik leaned around the corner, his smile wide on his scarred and gruesome visage. This demon had seen eons of battle.

  “Come, old friend. All’s clear.”

  Trusting him, Brecken moved on silent feet. Calvik worked the lock on Raphael’s door, a dark, violet power emanating from the keys. Brecken watched, fascinated, as the lock clunked back, the key never having actually turned in the mechanism. Calvik pulled the key back and placed it in his pocket. He pulled open the heavy, creaking cell door.

  Brecken rushed in, placing his arms around his old mentor. “Raphael, it’s me, Bretariel. Can you hear me?” He smoothed back the long, dark strands of hair and tried to wipe the smudges from Raphael’s face.

  The angel lifted his eyes to meet Brecken’s. “Undoer?” he said. “Have you come to undo all the wrong that has come to pass?”

  Brecken nodded. “Of course I have. It’s the least I owe you.”

  With Brecken’s arm around the afflicted angel’s shoulders, he heaved him to a standing position. “Let’s get out of here.”

  But just as they reached the door, it slammed shut. With terror in his eyes, Brecken darted for the door, his fingers wrapping around the bars in dismay. He dropped Raphael in the process. “What are you doing?” he shrieked.

  “Be quiet!” Calvik said with despair in his eyes, and then he disappeared, darting away down the deserted corridor.

  62

  ~Trapped~

  Brecken

  Brecken stood at the locked door, stunned to be trapped inside Gehenna. This couldn’t be happening. He’d trusted Calvik with his life, with Raphael’s life, and most importantly, with Alisa’s life! For the first time, he realized how stupid he had become. No one was coming to his rescue. No one ever would. Never would he have attempted to do something this foolish in the past. Never had he been so careless or reckless. Now all was lost because he was rash.

  In despair, his thoughts traveled to his physical body. More than anything, he wanted to know what had happened back at his house, and if there was any way to reconnect to his physical self. Was there anything that could be done to save his mortal life, which surely hung in the balance? He knew his body was not dead. Somehow, he could sense it, but he could also feel his body teetering on the brink of death. He must get back before it was too late or he would forfeit his chance at redemption. If the good guys were anything, they were sticklers for the rules.

  Pacing, he measured his steps from the door to the far wall, then back again. Raphael sat on the stone bench, too weak to do much of anything. Viscous poison dripped on Brecken’s shoulders every so often, causing searing pain to trail its way through his whole soul. And all the while, his mind ran through scenarios of escape, how to help Alisa, and how to help the rest of the angels imprisoned there.

  In a moment of utter despair, he heard someone in the outside corridor. He hurried to the door to see Calvik on the other side, working with the locking mechanism, and then the door swung open. In a roar of fury, his only desire was to rip out the demon’s throat, or to thrash him at the very least, but then he realized what Calvik was doing.

  A feeling of calm came into his heart, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Calvik hadn’t tricked him. He hadn’t betrayed him. His moment of madness passed and he no longer felt the fury of a moment before. This experience felt like a terrible nightmare, but everything was happening the way it was supposed to, and he remembered that this war was foretold long ago, and that he himself was a key player. Grabbing Raphael, he hurried from that dark pit of despair.

  Calvik led them down a black corridor where no sconces were lit—the darkness as thick as soot and impossible to see through.

  “Is this the way to Alisa’s cell?” Brecken asked, thoroughly lost.

  Calvik glanced at him, started to speak, grimaced, and then hesitated.

  “Calvik?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Then where are we going?” Brecken asked anxiously. “We have to find her. That’s the whole reason I came.”

  “We can’t take her with us.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is the best I can do. She will have to stay until we can come back. It’s too dangerous. We’ll be lucky to make it out alive as it is.”

  Brecken searched Calvik’s face, unable to see him clearly in the dim, shadowy corridor. Only his voice carried in the darkness, but even that was hard to focus on. He became disoriented, and a spark of fear erupted in his heart. Was it possible that Calvik might still be scheming and leading him down a treacherous path?

  “We’ll never come back,” Brecken said. “We’ll never be able to again. This is our only chance. Please help me.” He wouldn’t leave without her. Not after seeing how wretched she’d become. He had to save her or die trying.

  “It’s a suicide mission,” Calvik said. “You must know that. There are more demons between us and her cell than you can count.”

  “Oh, I can count pretty high,” Brecken said, a smile lighting his face. He handed Raphael—who was still very weak—over to Calvik, pulling his swords from his belt. “You just get me there, and I’ll do the rest.”

  With a heavy sigh, Calvik agreed. They made their way to the other side of the prison
, skirting the corridors where soldiers stood at attention.

  “Brecken, stop,” the demon said, a sadness in his eyes. “There is only one way to be successful in this venture.” Calvik gazed at Brecken as though it were for the last time, his mouth in a grim line of resignation. “Here, take him.” He handed Raphael back to Brecken, who wore an astonished expression.

  “I can’t carry him and defend us.”

  “You won’t need to.” Taking his keys from a hidden pocket, Calvik grabbed Brecken by the forearm. A searing pain shot up to his shoulder and elicited a hiss from Brecken. A raised, scarlet, jagged scar appeared on the inside of Brecken’s arm, but Calvik continued to hold onto his arm until the burning subsided.

  “There,” Calvik said. “Now you are the only one who can wield the keys.”

  Brecken stared at his old friend with no words to express his surprise.

  “Soon someone will notice the high angel is no longer in his cell,” Calvin stated with a devilish grin, gesturing to Raphael. “That should cause a stir. Alisa’s corridor will be safe to enter soon. Watch and wait.”

  “Calvik!” Brecken called as the demon turned to jog away. “I don’t understand.”

  “Just covering your back, Commander. Just like always.” And with that, Calvik saluted, and then disappeared down the long passageway.

  63

  ~Rescued~

  Alisa

  Darkness surrounded me. It clung to my mind and heart, to my hair and clothes. I was bathed in it, and nothing felt real. My life was a dream—a landscape of nightmares that I could never escape. I’d lost hope of Brecken ever finding me.

  Until I heard echoes reverberating through the halls. Voices. I tried to ignore them, knowing they weren’t real, or at least of no concern to me, but they seized my attention. It had been ages since there was a disturbance, but not even the desperate screaming could keep my head raised in curiosity for long. I closed my eyes to block it out… the temptation to fall for the ruse almost unbearable.