Air: The Elementals Book Two

by L. B. Gilbert

The air was full of perfume of either day or night-blooming flowers, depending on when Gia arrived. It was also the ideal temperature. If she were too hot, the breeze cooled her down. If she were cold, the air around her heated until she was warm. It was a small show of favor to one of Her chosen.

  The location was classified, but over the centuries, little clues had escaped the tight wall of secrecy surrounding the island—enough to fuel rumors of Atlantis in this part of the world. However, there was no volcanic threat buried in the heart of this place—only layers of ritual and mystery that had the isle locked up tighter than a drum.

  Gia felt the welcoming caress of the tropical air, but she didn’t relax. Her arrival had been sensed by the wardens, which meant that at this moment, a formal welcoming committee was being assembled in honor of her visit.

  She didn’t have time for it, but over the years, Gia had learned she had to go through the first few steps before she could reasonably excuse herself. Any attempt to skip the preliminaries either gave offense or generated panic about a possible apocalypse among the populace.

  Suppressing a sigh, she squinted at the slow procession assembling on the path above the northern arch, mentally willing them to go faster. Holding her hands behind her back, she counted the number of robes in the party. In her experience, the length of the greeting ceremony was directly proportional to the number of people in modern dress. More robes meant more delay.

  She used to think the prolonged meet and greets were a way of keeping her from getting too comfortable here. Gia was Earth, and this was the ancestral home of Water. She imagined it would be jarring for the elders who governed T’Kaieri if another kind of Elemental decided to make their home here. Despite the fact that some outsiders had found a home here over the years, all members of the assembly were related to a Water Elemental by blood. It had seemed only natural that they might feel threatened when she came around.

  Much later, Gia had come to realize that the ceremonies and rituals were prolonged especially for her. Diana and Logan both had similar greetings, but in a much abbreviated form. But she was the eldest. Therefore, they were showing her the greatest respect by dragging their oldest inhabitants down to the beach to formally welcome her.

  Don’t forget, it’s an honor, she told herself as the motley crew came into view along the beach.

  It got a little easier to remember when she spotted John, Serin’s uncle, in the crowd alongside the assembly. The title was honorific. He was technically only Jordan’s uncle, but most people called him by the title. John was one of the few white men who called T’Kaieri home. He had found the island nearly a century ago and ingratiated himself to the elders. Instead of erasing his memory and sending him on his way, they allowed him to stay. He had eventually married and become a valued member of the community. Years later, he had brought his nephew Jordan here to live with the elder’s blessing. A decade ago, the latter had been bonded with Serin.

  Though she didn’t know Jordan well, Gia did know and like John. She remembered all too well what it had been like before his arrival. His relaxing influence over the elders and warm, avuncular manner smoothed over the inevitable little conflicts that sprang up between Serin and the elders.

  Maybe I can get out of this quicker than I thought, she mused as the procession reached the arch. A tall, elegant figure broke away from the crowd and approached.

  “Greetings Gia, beloved one of Atabey,” Dalasini, Serin’s mother, said with a small inclination of her head.

  Gia bowed with equal formality. “I thank you for your welcome, Dalasini. You and the other elders honor me with your presence.”

  As unnecessary as it is, she thought, remembering to smile as Caimen, Serin’s father, repeated the greeting, and each elder stepped forward in turn to do the same.

  After an interminable amount of time, she came to the end of the line and turned to John. Breaking protocol, he beamed at her and gave her a warm embrace—a move that made most of the elders stiffen. Dalasini’s face tightened at the corners of her mouth, and Gia hid her grin before surreptitiously pinching John’s arm as she moved away from him.

  Caimen came forward to give yet another blessing. Remembering the expression on Logan’s face when they parted made the long-winded speech feel interminable, but Gia knew the drill. Several more blessings would be offered before she was invited to the Mother’s temple to pray with them. If she didn’t do something now, it could be hours before anyone asked her what had brought her to the island.

  Keeping her expression serene, she nodded when appropriate while trying her best to catch John’s eye. When she managed it, he winked at her, all the while appearing to pay close attention to the words being spoken.

  Caimen continued on for another minute before John bent over double with a sudden racking cough. Gia dropped her serene expression and adopted one of concern. She put a hand on his back. “Are you all right, Uncle? May I be of assistance?” she asked.

  John’s smile gleamed as bright as his bald spot. “Oh, excuse me, my dear. I had a sudden tickle in my throat.” He clapped her on the back with just the right amount of chagrin and hapless friendliness. “So poppet, what brings you to the island?”

  Behind him, both Caimen and Dalasini frowned, but Gia leapt at the opening.

  “I need to get to the archives,” she said with a placid nod at the others. “I have a small matter I need to look into for Logan, and I’m afraid time is of the essence.”

  “Oh, well, we understand you can’t sit around all day chewing the fat with us, my dear,” John said with his disarming grin aimed at the elders.

  Dalasini bowed graciously. “Of course, Gia. Why doesn’t John escort you while we continue on to the temple to offer Atabey our prayers?”

  Grateful that Dalasini was too well mannered to show her annoyance, Gia accepted the offer. The elders shuffled up the path toward the temple while John fell in step next to her.

  “Thanks.”

  He passed a hand over his rounded belly and laughed. “You’re quite welcome, my dear. So what brings you here so late?”

  Gia enjoyed visiting T’Kairie during the day. She liked to soak up the sun on the powder-white beach or hike the trails winding around the island. “I really do need to go to the archives.”

  “Oh,” he said, wiping his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m surprised. Little Logan doesn’t normally need a hand with research.”

  That much was true. It was an open secret that the winds carried the voices of the dead, and a few others. The Air Elementals had always been predisposed to hear them. The winds weren’t all knowing, however, which was easy to forget sometimes.

  “She usually doesn’t, but the winds are fickle,” she reminded him absently, scanning the road ahead for the entrance to the archives.

  It was too much to hope that the archivists would have gone home already. The sun had just gone down, and she knew most of them well enough to assume that at least two of them would still be there.

  The scholars were a set of well-meaning men and women charged with preserving Elemental history by the Li family line, Logan’s distant ancestors. For centuries, they had been the record keepers for their family history. But their ancient history preceded that single family, and so the directive had later been expanded to include all Elemental history. The archive had moved several times until it eventually made its way to the island.

  T’Kaieri was founded by the Taino, the indigenous group local to the region during the pre-Columbian era. The population grew from an unexpected source in the following century.

  During the colonial period, a steady trickle of gifted slaves escaped from the Bahamian islands. Many had found refuge here. They had intermixed with the local population, marrying among the gentle Taino clans. Nowadays, most of the islanders resembled these forefathers, although a few were smaller in stature, like their Taino ancestors.

  It was right after this period of upheaval that the archive made a permanent move here.

>   “Are you coming down?” she asked John as they arrived at the nondescript door nested at the base of Siba.

  “No, my dear. It’s not my favorite place. Too damp,” John said, taking out a red kerchief and wiping his forehead. “I’ll leave you here.”

  She smiled at him with genuine affection. “Thanks for the assist.”

  “Anytime, poppet,” he said, giving her a warm hug before walking back up the northern path.

  The plain wooden door led down a winding stone staircase. At the bottom was another door, a much larger one made of stone. It was supposed to be heavy enough that only an Elemental could move it. However, it was left open these days so the archivists who did not possess supernatural strength could go in and out. Behind the massive door was a subterranean network of caves, each filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were even carved stone tablets here and there among the more ephemeral records.

  And there were weapons—short blades, long swords, spears, and shields. Some had been confiscated from enemies. Other had been wielded by Elementals, but most belonged to Elemental family lines that had died out and would be reborn. Until then, their artifacts were held here in trust.

  Organization was rough. At Gia’s request, the caves were in chronological order, with the oldest records deeper in the mountain. But within each cave, the jumbled system could only be deciphered by the archivists—and with a little guidance from the Mother, by her and her sisters.

  Of course, that guidance was sometimes absent these days. The Mother had grown quieter in the last decades. It was disconcerting, but she had experienced these periods of silence before. They had no choice but to muddle through them as best they could.

  Gia didn’t run into an archivist until she was in the third chamber. Luckily for her, Noomi was alone.

  “Daughter of earth,” Noomi, the head archivist greeted her with a formal bow. “May I be of assistance?”

  Unlike the junior members of the staff, Noomi was never surprised to see her. Older than she appeared, the head archivist was rounded and motherly. She had a perpetually cheerful and benevolent expression on her face. But her appearance was deceiving—Noomi’s mind was a steel trap. She remembered everything she had ever read.

  The other archivists always became nervous around her and her sisters. Diana was particularly good at intimidating them, but Gia always tried to put the scholars at ease. She had even granted them interviews so they could record her personal history—the part she was comfortable sharing.

  “Hello, Noomi. I’ve come on an errand for Logan. I need to see records about…well, I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Something relating to the Air Elementals. I’m searching for an artifact made of metal or with a metal piece, possibly a blade.”

  Noomi nodded, unperturbed by the vague request. Over the years, she had been on the receiving end of many bizarre questions and demands.

  “Is there anything you can tell me that would help simplify our search? Any particular century where we should begin?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t even narrow it down that far. I have a feeling that I’ve already seen what I’m looking for, and not recently either.”

  “A record you read during one of your research visits? It’s been some time since you did one of those.”

  Her “research only” visits had stopped before Noomi’s tenure. Gia had long since given up reading their history once it sank in that she was busy making it. But in the early days after inheriting, she had spent long periods of time here, determined to know their background as well as she could. Most Elementals did the same to prepare for whatever this job had in store. In recent memory, only Diana had bucked the trend, but Di had never liked being bogged down with a lot of history.

  “I don’t know when the last one was, but I think it’s from a much earlier trip,” she said.

  “Shall I call the rest of the staff to help you search?”

  It was a tempting offer, but in her experience, too many helping hands didn’t make this sort of thing easier. “Like I said, I don’t even know what I’m looking for. My best shot may be to try and commune with the Mother and ask for her guidance.”

  Noomi’s inclined her head respectfully. “Of course. I can leave you to meditate in private.”

  “Thank you,” she said before the archivist walked away, leaving her alone with thousands of years’ worth of records.

  Gia tried not to lose heart as she stared at the crammed walls and filled shelves. She would pray to the Mother and ask for Her guidance, but she had a very strong suspicion she was going it alone.

  22

  Logan woke up with Connell’s heavy arms wrapped around her.

  Great, she thought, refusing to acknowledge that it felt good to wake up this way. She flashed out of bed and glared at the damn Were curled up in the too-small twin bed. He’d taken his shirt off, but he had at least kept his pants on.

  Thank the Mother for small favors.

  She was going to have to have words with him again. Imagine if someone like the chief or that bitchy ex-girlfriend had come in?

  Logan was a soldier, but she liked a clean fight. She had not signed up for all this hormone-driven drama. Connell was a fling, nothing more.

  At least, that was all he was supposed to be. Somewhere along the line, things had gotten away from her. Pursing her lips, she stared down at him, wondering what the hell she was going to do…

  Who says you have to have all the answers now?

  She was young, and being young meant one could be stupid about men. She didn’t have to know what to do at this very moment. Her focus was, and should be, the case. This other bullshit could wait. If Connell didn’t like it, tough.

  Pivoting, she turned to Sammy and bent over him. His color was better, and his breathing was deep and even, almost as if he was asleep and not in a coma.

  How long would this state last? Did she have to ask the chief to arrange for him to be fed intravenously? He wasn’t a chubby kid. He didn’t have the fat reserves to go very long without food. Weres burned a lot of calories very quickly.

  Exhaling hard, she put a hand on his forehead and was startled when he moved.

  “Five more minutes, Yogi,” he mumbled and turned over.

  Logan snatched back her hand, air exhaling in a whoosh.

  Yes! She threw her hands over her head in a victorious V. She turned around, wanting to cheer and shout, but no one else was awake upstairs.

  Her impulse was to raise a ruckus and wake everyone, but she restrained herself. She decided to take a break outside and wait for Sammy and Connell to wake up on their own. In the next second, Logan was outside, rematerializing to sit on the porch railing to watch the sunrise.

  The cold air felt good filling her lungs. She always liked this hour of the morning. No matter how the night before had gone—if she’d gotten a chance to sleep or not—dawn was special to her. It refreshed her. Cleansed. She felt closer to the Mother at this time, even though she half-suspected that connection was only in her head…

  She hadn’t heard him, but Logan sensed Douglas before she saw him. He was coming back from the woods, on all fours this time. His second form was massive and slightly terrifying.

  His wolf was black as night. For a second, she flashed back to watching The Neverending Story on TV. Douglas reminded her of the big bad wolf in the movie, except that his paws were tipped in silver.

  Even she, a person who could dematerialize at will, found her fight-or-flight switches being flipped on in the presence of the beast.

  Douglas paused at the tree line, those huge, yellow eyes filled with an unnerving intelligence. She nodded at him, and he shook his large head at her in return.

  Was that meant to be a nod back? Because if he’d had a rabbit in his jaws, she’d sooner think he was trying to snap its neck.

  He disappeared behind one of the outbuildings and returned a few minutes later, fully dressed and on two legs this time. She thought he would pass her and go inside the house, bu
t he stopped next to the stairs and leaned on the railing a few feet away.

  “Good hunting?” she asked.

  “No.”

  There was nothing more. After a minute, he pulled out a cigarette from a crumpled pack in his pocket and lit it.

  “So you weren’t out for a morning meal? Were you looking for the perp?”

  He shook his head. “I needed a run. Wolves do that,” he said without inflection.

  She wanted to say something sarcastic about stating the obvious, but she knew why he was being terse with her.

  “You don’t have to like me,” she said.

  He turned to face her, his arms crossed with a face like molded granite. “I don’t dislike you.”

  “But you’re worried because Connell does like me.” She had never been one to beat about the bush.

  He looked away. “I’m more concerned that you like him,” he said, his inflection unchanged.

  Well, that was blunt. But so was she.

  “Doesn’t mean anything.”

  This time, he was surprised enough to turn his head in her direction. “Doesn’t it?”

  She shrugged and decided to be equally candid. “I know about you and Gia and what almost was.”

  Logan hadn’t expected him to crack a smile, but when he did, his resemblance to Connell caught her off guard. “That was before I met Connell’s mother,” was all he said.

  Was he warning her that Connell’s infatuation would pass too?

  “What was she like?” she asked, curious about the woman who had caught someone like Douglas—after Gia, the bar would have been set incredibly high.

  Douglas’ face was uncharacteristically soft as he looked at the distant mountains. “She was…civilizing.”

  Logan waited for more, but it was like pulling teeth. “When did she pass?”

  Douglas’ face closed up. “Seven years ago.”

  She wanted to ask how it had happened, but she didn’t want to push her luck. Instead, she picked at her pant leg. “Marco passed too. Sometime in the eighties.”

  Douglas frowned at her. “Who’s Marco?”