Ally gave a small nod.
“But Ally’s nothing like Dennis,” I said, remembering something. “Director Wells choose three problem children to be combined with elementals. Katie was subject to violent rages. Ally’s issue was that she was incredibly withdrawn and shy. Dennis, on the other hand, was a burgeoning young psychopath.
Jo glared at me. “I brought you twice to reassure Ally, and you only think to mention that now.”
“It’s been a long day for everyone,” Harriet said. “Let’s get some sleep. I’ll give Ally a chance, and start teaching her as soon as I can, see if she can’t learn control.” She looked at me and Jo. “Happy?”
Harriet wasn’t prepared for Jo to fling herself into Harriet’s arms, giving her a big hug as a way of thanks.
Chapter 11
Wednesday 09:00
The flames burnt bright but not hot, and I walked through them without fear.
I stretched my arms to either side, dangling my fingers amidst the forest of tall thin flames that surrounded me. Shades of red and orange dappled my skin. I felt overcome with a serene sense of awe and wonder; never before had I realized the pure beauty of fire.
“Why do you walk inside the Shield?” a voice said.
I spun. “Who are you?” The voice was achingly familiar, though I couldn’t place it.
A pause. “I do not know who I am.” A wondering tone, as if the voice’s owner had never before considered the question.
I marched first one way, then the other, seeking the source of the voice. No matter how far I travelled, I only found more fire. My initial sense of peace dissolved into panic. I began to sprint. I had to find—
Then I was out of the flames, and a woman stood in front of me.
“The fire doesn’t burn you,” she said. Her appearance was as familiar as her voice. However, the knowledge of who she was was denied me.
I glanced behind me at the big wall of flame. “It isn’t real. It contains no heat.”
“It would burn me,” she said. “You must be a creature of fire.”
“No, I’m not.” Or was I? “I don’t think so, at least. How is it a shield?”
“It protects the Oasis.”
“What is the Oasis?”
Her head jerked around. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. I have to go.”
“No, don’t go.” I followed her, but no matter how fast I went, she got further and further away. “I need—”
My eyes opened. I blinked rapidly several times as I reaccustomed myself to reality. I was lying in my bed in Ten-two. My heart beat faster as the knowledge that eluded me in my dream fell heavily upon me. The woman had, of course, been Sash. Not a day had gone by since her death that I didn’t think about her and remember what had happened. And yet I hadn’t recognized her. What had that place been, I wondered. The Oasis.
It was Brimstone, Jerome thought. And it’s getting crowded in your head.
The damn elemental can even see my dreams, I thought in disgust.
I heard that, Jerome thought.
Good. Then something registered with me. Crowded? You mean there’s more than just you and me in my head.
Jerome went silent.
That would mean it was more than a dream. Are you saying that Sash is still alive?
Still no answer.
Jerome, talk to me. Is Sash still alive in some manner?
It was impossible. I had held Sash’s blood-soaked body and watched life bleed from her eyes. And yet, had not many things I’d once thought impossible become possible? Jerome lived in a barbed wire necklace, elementals could possess bodies but leave the original personality still intact to a degree. I had no idea what were the true limits of the magic of Brimstone.
“Damn you, Jerome, talk to me,” I said out loud.
“Rune,” Jo said. “Quiet.”
I sat up and looked around. Jo was dressed and standing, and Ally was still fast asleep in Alex’s bed. “Actually, now you are awake, you should come with me.”
I knew that look. “No,” I said.
“Don’t be silly. I have to show you something.”
I sighed. I’d go with her, but there was absolutely no way I was going to let her drag me into becoming more involved again.
Chapter 12
Wednesday 09:15
After I’d dressed, Jo led me down a level and into a room on the first floor. She sat down at a small desk and clicked open her laptop. I walked past her, looking around. The walls smelled of decay, and lines of black mold curled upward between gaps in the torn wallpaper. Something about the patterns reminded me of the dream I’d just had. I moved closer, drifting my fingers against the coarse texture of the wallpaper, remembering…
“What are you doing?” Jo asked.
I came to a stop, realizing I had done several loops of the room, my mind spinning with thoughts of the fire dream. “Nothing.” I jerked my hand away from the wall. “My head is still mired in sleep.” Sash is dead, I told myself firmly. She is dead, and it was just a dream. “I’ve never been in here before,” I said, looking from the single bed in the corner to the pile of blankets against one wall, then to the small desk where Jo sat.
“This is one of the nicer rooms in the building, and it usually has someone squatting in it,” Jo said. “But Ten-two is rather empty right now. The crowd of artists and transients who usually drift through have moved on to other cities.”
If this was one of the nicer rooms, then I hadn’t explored the bad areas of the house lately. Of course, the attic room had been much worse until Jo, Alex, and I had gone to work on it—first fixing leaks and scrubbing it clean, then painting and decorating it. “So Ten-two is no longer good enough even for those who don’t pay rent? Everyone is leaving.” Just like Tyler had. Just like I was intending to.
“Hard to blame anyone. The everyday people of Lusteer fear being crushed between firedrake terrorism and L-SED retribution.”
“What about you, Jo? You’re an everyday person. You should be more afraid.”
“The golden rule is to act fearlessly upon what one believes to be right.”
“That’s just a dumb quote. This is real, Jo. You must know how close you came to being killed. Ally and I have ways to protect ourselves, and we are harder to kill. One misstep up on the rooftops and—”
“It’s a quote from Gandhi, so it’s not dumb.” Jo reached across and gripped my forearm. “Don’t think I’m not grateful that you saved me again. I am. It’s just that I prefer to repay you by being helpful.” Jo turned her attention back to her laptop, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Multicolored windows flashed across the screen. On Jo’s desk, as well as the laptop, were three cellphones and two shiny black watches. I considered asking what she was doing, then decided I didn’t want to know.
“I’m not looking for gratitude,” I said. “I’m looking for you to stay alive and healthy even when I’m not around. I know Ally is your friend, but everyone recognized you at the hotel. I’ve a feeling you’d be there trying to help out even if Ally hadn’t been.”
Jo shrugged. “I guess.”
“But why. You’re smart enough to know to stay away.”
“It’s not about being smart.” She picked up a phone and began to thumb through the settings.
“Obviously. Because it’s really dumb. Why are you helping the shades in the first place? Yarley—though he’s no longer around—tried to have you possessed. And Harriet Ashley, though she’s helping us at the moment, once led a rival band of shade criminals. You can’t have forgotten the Reds and the Whites, especially after what—”
“You can’t be badmouthing Harriet now that she’s going to help Ally. Plus, I know that she makes sure the shades who follow her commit no crimes,” Jo said. “What Lowndes and the L-SED are doing is horrible.”
“They are shades. Imprisonment’s too good for them.”
Jo glanced up at him. “You don’t believe that.”
I shrugged. “Elementals are body snat
chers. Why should we offer them rights?”
“Possession is a horrible thing to happen to anyone. But after it’s over, it’s not just the elemental in there. We can’t attack the victim.” Jo suddenly gave a quick smile. “Wait, I don’t have to tell you that. You’re messing with me. Here.” Jo handed across a watch. “Put this on.”
I dangled it in front of me. It had a black strap and a white digital clock. “Why are you giving me a watch?”
“It’s a smartwatch. Hand over your mobile.”
“Why?”
“Upgrade.”
“No.” I took a step back. “It’s not because I’m afraid, you know,” I blurted out.
“Sorry, I lost you.” Jo looked up. “You’re afraid of changing your mobile.”
I had jumped a few steps ahead. “You are going to persuade me to escort the mayor.” Noah hadn’t tried too hard, but I doubted Jo would make it so easy to refuse.
“No. I don’t intend to persuade you.”
“You don’t?” I put down the watch. “Then what’s this all about?”
“You said something about being afraid,” Jo said.
“I said I wasn’t afraid.”
“Really?” Jo raised her eyebrows. “It’s okay to admit it if you are. You know how I feel about macho bullshit.”
“It’s not about being macho.” I walked to the door and back again. “If you aren’t trying to persuade me, then I don’t need to explain myself, do I?”
“I guess not,” Jo admitted.
“It’s just.” Once again I walked to the door and back, running a hand through my hair. “It’s just. I’m not afraid in the traditional way of being afraid of enemies, afraid of a fight. That’s not why I’m running away.”
“How are you running away?”
“I’m not. I mean I am running away from my duty. By not helping Harriet and the mayor and the other two fire sentinels—even if the two of them are loopy—when I probably should.” I was beginning to sound loopy myself. “You know?” I finished weakly.
“If you know it’s your duty, and you aren’t afraid, then what’s the problem?”
“I’m explaining badly.”
“Finally, you said something I understand. Now, give me your mobile.” I took it from my pocket and handed it over. She removed the battery, then transferred the sim card into a new phone. “Go on,” she said. “You can’t leave me hanging. You aren’t afraid.”
“In the traditional sense,” I clarified.
“I see.” Jo’s raised eyebrows and the way she drew out the sentence contradicted the meaning of the words.
“Beelzebub, why did I get started?” Because I hadn’t clarified my thoughts inside my own head, I was doing a terrible job explaining myself. “I’m not afraid of fighting shades or of fighting Lowndes or even of dying. I’d prefer not to die, of course, just…” I trailed off to stop myself from rambling. “It’s myself.”
“Yourself what?” Jo snapped the battery back into place on the smartphone and switched it on.
“I’m afraid of myself. Of what I might do.” I paused for a moment, then when Jo didn’t immediately reply, I hurried to continue. “The power within me can summon elementals from Brimstone to devastating effect. Although I can control it—under pressure, I can’t be trusted. Already, well you know about the fire that…” My words tripped over themselves. “The fire that killed your… You also know I summoned the elemental that possessed you, and the ones that are turning the policeman, Duffy, into some kind of, I don’t know what, but Harriet thinks he might be responsible for the firedrakes.” My rate of speech had kept increasing, and now the words came out in an unstoppable torrent. “And even when I controlled the magic, and I didn’t summon elementals, I couldn’t control my decisions. I always do the wrong thing. Every single time. I killed her. I didn’t have to. I could have avoided it, I know it. The power, it doesn’t belong in my hands. I killed her.”
A hand touched the nape of my neck. I looked up, realizing that I had bowed my head and that Jo had reached in for an embrace. My cheeks were damp.
Beelzebub, I try to explain how I wasn’t afraid and end up weeping like a toddler. That damn dream had me all muddled up. I pulled away. “Sorry.” I rubbed a palm down each cheek, half slapping myself in the process. “I’m not crying.”
“Of course you aren’t,” Jo said. “Sentinels are heroes. Everyone knows that. So they don’t cry for no reason. Additionally, they certainly don’t spend weeks moping around in their bedroom.”
Jo’s smile and gentle mocking tone took all the sting out of the words. “Hey. Watch yourself.”
“Put the mobile in your pocket and put on the watch.” She handed them over.
I did as she said.
“Say: ‘Ok Google’, then say ‘Talk’, then a testphrase, then the phrase ‘EndTalk’.”
I lifted the watch to my mouth. “Ok Google. Talk. Testphrase. EndTalk.”
The mobile still on the table vibrated, then a robotic voice said, “Talk message.” After a brief pause, my voice came through saying the word: “Testphrase.”
Jo picked up her mobile, pressed a button, then said: “Talk. You’re an idiot. EndTalk.”
My watch vibrated. “Talk message. You’re an idiot,” it told me.
I rotated my wrist, examining the smartwatch. It was more stylist and less geeky than I would have expected. “How does it know which phone to send the message to?”
“I set it up the application on your end so that it only sends to my phone. ‘Ok Google’ is the command for voice activation on the smartwatch. Then Talk and EndTalk activate the app.”
“What’s the app called?”
“It’s imaginatively titled ‘Talk’.”
“What am I supposed to use this for? We agreed I wasn’t going to take part in the protection detail today.”
“No, we agreed that I wasn’t going to persuade you.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I don’t need to persuade you because you can’t go against your nature.”
“My nature?” I was confused. “You mean being a creature of fire. Trust me, I feel no need to help Persia and Noah just because they are also fire sentinels.”
“No, you’re a protector. You’ll always strive to protect those you care about.”
“A protector?” Something clicked. “Wait. You’re not going, are you?” That was it. “Beelzebub. You’ll put yourself in danger just in the expectation that I’ll help you.”
“No.” Jo shook her head. “You have it wrong.”
“Then how—”
“Wait.” Jo moved to the door, pushed it open and shouted down the stairs. “Pete, you around?”
“I’m always around somewhere!” Pete shouted back. “One of the foibles of existence.”
Jo turned back to me, shaking her head. “I can never tell when he’s trying to be funny.” Then she shouted down the stairs. “Can you come up here? I’m in the box room on the first floor. You know the one?”
“The good room.”
“Exactly. The only one without visible goo on the walls or floor.”
Jo left the door open, then returned to her chair.
“What can Pete tell me that you can’t?” I asked Jo.
Jo didn’t say anything, just picked up a third mobile and removed the battery. When Pete walked in, she held out her hand toward him. “Give me your cell; I need to transfer the sim card.”
“I don’t have a cell,” Pete said.
“Even better.” She snapped the battery back into place and handed the phone across to Pete. “Take this, too.” She handed the watch to him.
“No. Pete, don’t,” I intercepted the watch, snatching it from Jo’s hand.
Pete turned to me. “Dude?”
“Whatever Jo has you doing, don’t.”
“Jo doesn’t have me doing anything. It’s that big blocky guy with the growly voice.”
“Nathan? The bear shifter.”
“Nathan
was… wait, he turns into a bear?” Pete’s smile dropped. “He’s a shade. Aren’t they the enemy?”
“This isn’t your fight, Pete. You don’t have a clue.”
Pete glanced across at Jo, and his smile returned, though hesitantly. “Well, I agreed to drive knowing that I was helping a politician. Shades can’t be worse than them, can they?”
“What’s changed with you? You’ve always been anti-fighting.”
“Anti-war, dude. I’m against the American imperialistic policy of sending troops and weapons to kill brown people in foreign lands. That doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to fight when the need arises. Jo told me about the Sauron creature.”
I glared across at her. “She exaggerates. Uro isn’t anything like Sauron. And even if he was, this isn’t as simple as good versus evil. You don’t know the first thing about elementals or Brimstone. Shades are stronger and faster, and either have magic or the ability to transform. How are you even going to fight?”
“I have a bow and arrow, dude, remember.”
“Seriously? What do you expect to be able to do with that toy?” Pete had a natural clumsiness to his movements; the only person he was likely to hit was himself. “When’s the last time you’ve been in any type of fight? Kindergarten?”
“Think about hobbits, dude. Remember, even the smallest can change the course of the future.”
“First I have Gandhi quoted to me, then Tolkien.” The business of Uro being like Sauron was being taken way too far. “Hobbits and weaker creatures rise to be heroes only in stories. In real battles, script armor doesn’t exist, and the strong smash the weak.”
“The hobbits weren’t the weakest; they were actually the strongest where it mattered,” Pete said. “Galadriel and Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir, the best of the best in Middle Earth, and none of them could trust themselves to bear the one ring without being corrupted.”
“You see yourself as Frodo?” I couldn’t believe I was arguing Lord of the Rings, but perhaps it was the only way to get Pete to see sense. “No wizard anointed you as the chosen one.”
Fire Soldiers Page 8
