Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10)

by Maddy Edwards

  “He wasn’t wearing one,” said Spark.

  “So how do we even know he’s paranormal?” someone asked. It took a great deal of effort, but I didn’t roll my eyes. Much.

  By that time we had reached solider ground and my feet weren’t sinking into mud every time I took a step. The grove where they had found me must have been touched by the same storm that touched the city, while we had now made our way out of that mess. In the distance I could see cliffs reaching into the sky, and the river was still snaking along a little way away. I figured we must be heading to the place where they had seen me in the first place, some distance from the clump of trees where I had tried to take shelter.

  “Because he knows who Lisabelle Verlans is,” said Spark.

  “Everyone knows who she is,” said his mother.

  “Yeah, everyone in the paranormal world,” said Spark.

  “What if he’s a dud, just a servant with no real magic?”

  “Then we can kill him,” said Spark. There were ways to discover whether a paranormal had magic and what kind, but they were hard to come by, all the more so since the Nocturn war.

  “We could always try asking him,” said Sparell. “He might just tell us.”

  Spark scoffed at the notion. “We can’t talk to the likes of him. He’s property, he can’t be attacked. Besides, he’d probably lie just to say something, then get us killed.”

  “Like what would he say, do you think?” Sparell asked.

  “I dunno, something crazy,” said Spark. “He’d say he was Lisabelle Verlans’s brother or something.”

  “She doesn’t have a brother,” said Sparell.

  “Okay, he’d say he was someone else’s brother,” said Spark, growing exasperated.

  “You’re right,” I said. “Can’t trust me. I’d be lying.”

  They all bobbed their heads in agreement, as if I’d finally said something halfway smart.

  But now I knew that there was only one thing I could do. When they stopped paying so much attention to me, I’d have to blast my way out. It would be crude and it would draw attention, but there was nothing else for it. The Bounty Hunters already knew where I was, and this ragtag team of hill dwellers had no idea what they had just stepped into the middle of.

  No way was I going to the Black Market.

  My view changed when we reached the cave. First, about twenty children, all scrawny and looking as if they’d been rolling in dirt before we got there, came streaming out of the cave’s dark mouth, clamoring to see what the search party had brought home. Try as they might, their mothers could not get them to go back to sleep.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” said Spew, who was Spark and Sparell’s mother. “These children should be sleeping!” She sounded incredibly irritable.

  “Do you want to try and put them to bed?” one of the younger mothers demanded. “All you’ve had to be doing recently is taking a nice evening stroll, while we’ve been here managing the fort.”

  “You forget I had to take my nice evening stroll with Spark,” said Spew tiredly.

  The younger woman laughed, then grabbed a child by his collar and spun him around, keeping him from tormenting his little brother any further as they dashed around. The child came to a screeching halt and looked up at his mother with wide eyes.

  The children swirled around us as we moved further into the cave. None of them got very close to me, but many of them gave me curious looks. I didn’t look much different from the outcasts who had taken me prisoner, except that despite many months of living in hiding, I still had more meat on my bones. But my hair was long and scraggly; I had let it get that way in hopes that it would keep me from notice a little longer. My eyes were really the problem, my eyes and my ring, but I had been able to deal easily enough with both of them in most of the situations I had run into so far. I had my family’s eyes. We were famous for our large gray eyes and it was the one physical characteristic that could easily be used to identify me.

  Not this one. I looked around the cave and something inside me twisted. This place was home to paranormals who were just scraping by. There were children. Blasting my way out was not an option.

  Spark hit the back of my legs and my knees buckled. I fought to keep my balance and turned around to glare at him. He shrugged. “Sit,” he commanded. “We can’t very well have our meal ticket getting tired.”

  “Can you imagine how much money we’re going to fetch from that one?” Sparell asked. “We’ve only ever been able to sell turnips at the Black Market before,” she explained, looking at me as if I would find all of this just as fascinating as she did. I nodded, hoping she’d say more, because the more I knew the more likely it was that I’d be able to save myself. But before either of us could settle into a conversation, Spark interrupted.

  “Tell me,” he said, sitting across from me on the floor of the cave, “who are you?”

  I eyed him, debating what to say, then chose to say nothing. Spark started toward me, but his mother ordered him to leave me alone. Instead of sitting back down, he disappeared for several moments, and when he came back he was holding a large knife. I eyed the thing with distaste and caution. I couldn’t use much magic, but I was pretty sure I could use enough so that Spark would get a very unpleasant surprise if he came near me with that thing.

  “Don’t like what this looks like, do you?” Spark eyed the knife, trying to be intimidating. If Spark had known who I was, if he had known the true evil, or the truly scary things I had seen, he might have realized that he didn’t have a hope or a prayer of frightening me

  But he didn’t.

  “Your ring,” he said, “is it on you somewhere?”

  I remained impassive, meeting him stare for stare.

  “Fine,” said Spark, “just fine, but you better hope I don’t find out who you are, because if I do,” - here he smiled, for once looking both a little deranged and a little intimidating - “you’ll regret it.”

  “Actually, I think it’s you who will regret holding me here,” I said. I couldn’t help it. I was tired and still devastated from Greta, though being kidnapped had kind of taken my mind off what had happened that morning.

  Then Spark surprised me. He turned serious, and not all threatening serious but more like the kid that he really was. “We’re hungry,” he said. “If selling you feeds my family, then it will be worth it.”

  “It won’t be worth it if you get killed,” I said.

  Spark shrugged. “How could anyone you know possibly find you here?”

  I had a feeling that some of the paranormals, if they wanted to badly enough, could find me anywhere. I had been banking on their not wanting to badly enough, but I knew that wouldn’t last. From the start I had planned on going home eventually, even if I wasn’t really sure what that would look like. Spark and his clan getting in the way wasn’t making the process any easier, nor did having the real Bounty Hunters chasing me help. .

  If only I could wear my ring.

  “Get some rest,” said Spark, pointing to the ground. “We’ll take you to the Appraiser in the morning.” With that he braced his hands on his knees, pushed up, and walked away.

  From my lonely spot in a dim corner, I watched him go. My hands were still bound, and I knew better than to expect Spark to untie me.

  I had missed home a lot as I wandered alone in dangerous times, because being on the run was not what I had thought it would be. I had imagined that if I stayed away long enough, if I could stay anonymous effectively enough, then someday I’d be able to settle down and have a farm and a family.

  That had been a silly dream; I knew it now. I had probably known it all along, but one part of me had to prove it to the other before the knowledge could be operational.

  Until this disastrous day, sleeping hadn’t been hard. Maybe I should have had awful dreams of the last three years. Maybe I should have been upset about the people I had left behind. But instead, until now, I had remained calm, I had locked the worry away and ref
used to think about it. In my most rested moments I had even had some fond memories of home, but I knew deep down that they weren’t real. I was in close enough touch with reality to know that.

  Now, every time I tried to sleep, all I saw was Greta’s shocked brown eyes, frozen at the moment when she died. Breathing was difficult and painful and my eyes shot open every time I tried to close them. As I lay there with just an old rag for a pillow, I listened to this ragtag clan settling the children again and trying to sleep. No one settled very close to me, although there were two rough-looking fellows who were clearly keeping guard. They both looked malnourished, and the light in their eyes when they looked at me made me uncomfortable. I shifted until my shoulders weren’t cutting into the rock and closed my eyes again.

  It was still useless; the image of Greta would not leave me. Opening my eyes again in frustration, I used the dying light of the fire to count the stones above my head, the formations and twists and turns: One solid entity, but still so complicated. I wondered if that’s what my life was like. One me, but many parts. I was less and less sure of where I was supposed to be with every day that went by.

  For the first time since I had set out on the road, all I wanted was to go home.

  Chapter Seven

  I must have slept, because I was awakened by a kick to the sole of my boots. I opened one eye, still lying on my back. Sparell stood there glaring down at me, breathing through her nostrils. “Get up,” she ordered. “We don’t have any food for you, but maybe you have some in your magic bag. Pity, if you open it we’ll kill you.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” I muttered. Sitting up with my hands bound and my body stiff took some time. While I struggled, Sparell walked away.

  With both hands I dragged my bag closer. I had several pieces of rice cake in there, my constant traveling companion, but I wasn’t hungry enough to eat them yet or awake enough to fight with Sparell about it.

  “You dreamed?” The voice startled me, then I realized that one of the nearby heaps was Spew, Spark and Sparell’s mother.

  “No,” I lied.

  She gave me a toothy grin and moved closer. “My son wants to be a famous Bounty Hunter, catch paranormals on the list. He has no idea what that really means. We barely have magical powers. It just keeps lessening and lessening with each generation.” She shook her head sadly. “I do not want my children mixed up in the difficulties of the paranormals.”

  “If they’re paranormals, then they’re mixed up in it by definition,” I said.

  “Said the boy who’s running away,” she said, smiling at me when she saw that she’d hit a nerve. “We do silly things when we’re young. You shall return.”

  “Not if your son has anything to say about it,” I said.

  She shrugged, her eyes suddenly sad. “If you can avoid hurting him, I would very much appreciate it.”

  “How do you know I could hurt him?” I asked.

  We were both keeping our voices low as if we were at least united in not wanting to be overhead. Spew shrugged thin shoulders, her eyes intent on mine.

  “You do not walk like you’re afraid, even when you should be. Even the Bounty Hunters who walk through here move as if they fear something. You swore on the name of the darkness premier. Like. You. Knew.”

  Conscious that it would be very bad if she found out who I was, I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Spew, knowing that her chance was over, nodded sagely. “We’re going to the Black Market today. There they will be able to identify you, and if you make them do it, I promise you, you won’t like the methods they use.”

  I was only passingly surprised that they hadn’t already identified me; I figured it must be because there were very few pictures of me in existence, my friends had made sure of that. What’s more, all the ones that were in circulation were from at least three years ago, when my hair had been shorter and my shoulders weren’t as broad.

  Even so I had spent most of my time covering my head with a hood and keeping my chin to my chest.

  “By the way,” I said to Spew, “my name’s Joice.”

  She smiled. “Sure it is.”

  We moved out not long after that. I was glad enough, because I didn’t want to talk to Spew for much longer. I knew that if I did I would start to feel too sorry for her. This clan on the outskirts of paranormal society was playing with a fire that, little known to them, was raging out of control. I wanted to warn them, I wanted to help them. I hadn’t been able to help Greta, but I still had to try with these paranormals.

  “Look,” I said, trying one last time as we stood in front of the cave, “you want to let me go. If you take me to the Black Market, you aren’t going to like the consequences.”

  “You’re mine,” said Spark, stepping forward and getting in my face. “We aren’t just going to hand you over.”

  I was really tired of this guy’s bravado. I stepped forward, getting in his face in turn. “I am not yours,” I said. “You have women and children to take care of and feed. I get it. Part of taking care of them is not getting them killed, or you either.”

  Spark looked amused, like I’d said something funny.

  “You have no idea what you’re messing with,” I said quietly. “You have no idea who’s after me, or who will come.” I was actually sure of the first part, less sure of the second as time went on, but Spark didn’t have to know that.

  Spark didn’t look impressed. “There are Bounty Hunters after you,” he shrugged. “We can deal with them.”

  I bit down on the inside of my lower lip, forcing myself to keep quiet.

  “You’re going to get them all killed,” I said, inclining my head to the rest of the clan members, who were now shifting with worry. My words were scaring them? Good. They should be scared. They should not be trying to take strange paranormals unawares.

  “Shut UP,” Spark yelled, suddenly shoving me in the chest. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward. Twisting in order to try and catch myself, I failed miserably and ended up sprawled on the ground, my face slamming into the dry earth. I lay there for a second, breathing in dust and trying to catch my breath.

  “Get up,” Spark bellowed, sounding crazed. I sighed and rolled my eyes, pushing myself to my feet. I hoped that made him feel better, but it wasn’t until I was standing that I saw what I had left behind. My inability to further secure my ring meant that it must have been slowly working its way out of my pocket. My heart in my mouth, I saw it there on the ground, half buried in dirt but out in the open so that I surely wasn’t going to be the only one who could see it.

  I tried to fall back down again, but Sparell had already spotted the ring.

  When it was clean, my ring was a rose gold that my sister had chosen for me. The jewel was the color of rainbows, and it made me smile every time I looked at it. My sister had searched through the heap of elemental rings we still had in our possession to find the right one for me, and she had been so excited when she presented it to me that she had cried.

  Now, with the ring lying there on the floor of the cave, all the adults in the clan would know who I was. Sparell darted forward gleefully and snatched it up, her eyes alight.

  “Aha!” she cried. Her thumb worked frantically to clean off the gemstones, but instead of becoming clearer as she looked at it, her face only became more confused.

  “It’s colorful,” she murmured, turning to her brother. “What does that mean?”

  “Um,” said her brother, glaring at the ring and turning it over in his hands. His sister tried to take it back from him, but he wouldn’t let her. The entire clan was watching us, and Spark was bound to do something stupid.

  “It’s not a real paranormal ring. It’s not for one of the types, I’m sure,” said Spark, overconfident as always.

  Luckily, the stone stayed entirely dark as Spark turned it over in his fingertips, but glancing past him, I saw his mother’s expression. Her eyes were on the ring and fear was etched in ever
y line of her face.

  When she turned to look at me directly, I knew she knew what the ring meant, what the colors of the rainbow told her about who I was. It wouldn’t be hard for her to confirm her suspicions if she had seen the list of the most sought-after bounty targets. I had known something like this was a possibility when they finally figured out that I had left my sister’s care and struck out on my own, but I was also impressed with how long my friends had managed to keep it a secret. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been, considering who my friends were.

  Spew raised her eyebrows just a little and I nodded, ever so slightly, once. She licked her lips as her knees buckled a little, and I knew she was near collapse. The devastation that would be visited upon anyone who had me was probably unimaginable for someone like her, but she was trying.

  “Maybe this isn’t the best idea,” she said, sounding strangled.

  Spark stopped dead. Slowly, he handed my ring back to his sister. With his hands on his hips he carefully turned around to glare at his mother.

  “Excuse me?” he whispered. Even Sparell looked surprised. None of the rest of the clan seemed to connect Spew’s sudden reluctance with the appearance of my ring. It was probably just as well, because I didn’t want anyone else to think too hard about it.

  “This is foolish,” she said. “We’re finding rings in his clothing. We don’t even know who he is. We could be walking into all sorts of trouble.”

  “We know he’s a paranormal,” said Spark. “We know we can sell him and make lots of money. That’s all we need to know.”

  “But . . .” Spew started, but it was useless. Spark’s mind was already made up.

  “Mom,” Sparell yelled. “Stop it! You’re old and foolish.”

  Her daughter’s reproach seemed to upset her more than her son’s had. At Sparell’s yelled reproach, Spew stopped dead.