Elemental Fire (Paranormal Public Series)

by Edwards, Maddy

  Chapter Ten

  I sat alone in my room in Astra. I had never felt so lonely in my life. Not only was Mrs. Swan MIA, possibly even dead, but the first week of this, my fourth semester at Paranormal Public, could not have gone worse. I shook my head. At least the Mirror Arcane was safe. I had tried to play it cool - Lisabelle would have scoffed at the notion that I was attempting coolness - but when I was allowed back into Astra after Ms. Vale made her awful announcement, I had wandered through every room, trying to act casually just in case I was being watched.

  Ms. Vale had explained that we as “young adults” were struggling to find ourselves, to find our identify, and the current climate of Public, the climate of collaboration and of hunting out demons, wasn’t doing us any favors. Change was required. Change was necessary. In order for us to learn and grow, the cord must be cut. Senior paranormals could no longer coddle us and they had to stop acting like nothing was wrong. She had continued in that vein, telling us that what was going to happen this semester was entirely for our own good.

  At one point Lisabelle leaned over to Sip and whispered, “That means there’s going to be bloodshed. Not Vale’s, of course, at least, that’s not her plan.”

  Sip, her purple eyes two hard crystals said, “Who knows. Plans change.”

  The memory of Vale’s words was branded in my mind. The ways in which evil-doers justified their actions were just as crazy as the actions themselves.

  That first time back into Astra I hadn’t touched anything as I wandered around, I just kept moving.

  The ballroom was one of my last stops, and I stayed well away from the glass case, examining the paintings instead. A vivid image of a Fire Whip cracking down on the pristine glass and breaking it kept flashing through my mind.

  I shuddered at the thought. The Mirror Arcane, one of the six objects on the Paranormal Wheel, was in my possession. It had been left in the ballroom of Astra, since it was the object that held elemental magic best. Of course, at one point it must have been the centerpiece of a great collection of elemental powers, but since the elementals had not planned on every last elemental being murdered, and their secret thus being lost, the artifact had been left sitting unguarded in the Astra ballroom for anyone to come along and see.

  But now I knew it was there, and I would protect it until the day I died.

  I got up again. I knew I shouldn’t, but I needed to return to the ballroom. It was the first place I had truly spent any time in at Astra, and I still felt closest to my kinfolk, the elementals who had gone, when I was there.

  Quietly I padded downstairs. I felt sure I was being watched. At Locke, Lisabelle had performed a spell that destroyed listening devices. I still remembered her smug smile when about twenty devices blew up that had been scattered throughout our apartment. Unfortunately, I didn’t have Lisabelle at hand to perform that spell here and now.

  Reaching the Astra Ballroom, I craned my neck to look at the cathedral ceiling, then glanced at the windows that stretched from the floor all the way to the top of the ceiling, revealing Public’s grounds. Interspersed between the windows were sconces that lighted my way in the dark. Silver-edged mirrors hung along the walls, side by side with massive tapestries that depicted elemental successes in battles against the demons and other enemies. I felt better just walking into this room. On top of everything else it reminded me of Keller, and that gave me some comfort.

  I stopped in front of one of the beautiful old gilded mirrors and stared at my reflection. My skin was pale at the best of times, but in the dead of winter I had barely any color at all. My brown hair hung lankly over my shoulders, and my big gray eyes, the eyes that both Ricky and I had gotten from Mom, stared back at me, as wide open as they could be.

  The image of myself essentially imprisoned at Public didn’t help my mood, so I moved on. This time I walked right up to the glass case that held the Mirror Arcane. I needed to see it, touch it, and know that it was real.

  I had been protecting the Mirror since my first semester at Public without even knowing its real importance in the beginning. Keller had brought me into the ballroom to clean the case that held elemental artifacts, and I had lovingly dusted the Mirror along with everything else. But the Mirror had been special from the start, with its silver etching and perfectly reflective glass.

  Now I was reassured that the Mirror Arcane was still safe. I stared at it for only a moment, knowing I must move. I did. I left the ballroom.

  Astra had a small library high in the center tower that made up the bulk of the building. I headed there now. At least there was one good thing about being alone in Astra: it gave me time to think about my mother in peace.

  I didn’t know much about her, but I knew some things. Her name was Grace Lancing. I wasn’t sure if Lancing was her maiden name or my father’s last name, but although I knew that in the depths of the library there was a record of every elemental birth, until now I had been too afraid to check those records. Now I knew I had held off long enough. It was time to find out.

  I smiled as I passed the entrance to the Astra attic. Keller and I had spent some time there as well. But I had only come up to the library once. It had been too difficult to smell the books, all filled with elemental history. We should have a living history too, I thought, carried along through the stories of the generations that came in their turn over the years.

  Carefully I climbed the stairs. They got thinner, narrower, and more dusty with each flight. The stone walls were a dark gray, but they gave way to a creaky wood right before I got to the library. Sometimes when I was returning home to Astra in the evening I would stare up at the small windows of the library and think that I should spend some time in there.

  Now was my chance.

  I carefully pushed the door open. I knew Mrs. Swan never cleaned in the library. She couldn’t have even if she had wanted to, because you could only open the door if you were elemental, so strong were the protections on this room. Risper had once told me that no one had entered the room since the house had been deserted years before.

  Slowly I pushed the door open. I didn’t know what I was afraid of, but I opened it only enough to get through, then quickly shut it behind me. Instead of feeling scared, I felt like I was home. I shuffled my feet to turn around, but at this late hour in the evening I needed light, which I couldn’t get, because we weren’t allowed to use our magic outside class. I looked sadly down at my ring and sighed. Feeling my way to the wall I groped around for a sconce and hoped that there were matches. After only a couple of steps my hand ran into a bookcase, which meant I had gone too far. I decided there must be a light by the door and slowly turned around and inched my way back along the wall.

  Sure enough, I found not only a sconce but also an old set of matches that came to life under my touch, not even needing to be commanded. I just had to hope that it was a small enough amount of magic so that the Fire Whips monitoring our every move wouldn’t notice.

  The fire flared to life and I blinked several times, clearing the spots from my eyes. The Astra library stretched in front of me as far as my eye could see. Rows and rows of old leather bound books lined musty shelves. Every step I took brought up a fresh cloud of dust.

  I sighed happily.

  “Hello, history,” I murmured. “Maybe you can help me.”

  “Maybe we can and maybe we can’t,” said a metallic-sounding voice somewhere in front of me. “Maybe we don’t want to.”

  I yelped and fled back to the door, staring wildly around. I grabbed the handle and tried to leave, yanking as hard as I could, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Oh, no,” said the voice, a little louder now. “You visit what is mine, you stay and talk as long as I wish it. Thus is the way of things.”

  “The way of things is complicated,” I muttered, tugging with all my might. It was no use. “Lots of paranormals think they have the right way of things.”

  “Either no paranormal has the right way of things or they all do,” said the voice
. I stared wildly over my shoulder, but it was no use. The door would not budge. I was trapped in my own attic.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Fine,” I said, turning around. I could only hope that if the thing I was talking to had been inclined to hurt me, it would have done so by now.

  “I will light the other lamps,” said the voice. Before I could protest that I didn’t want the Nocturns who were running Public to see where I was, the lights flicked on.

  “Don’t worry,” said the voice. “The windows have long since been covered.” I did remember seeing heavy velvet drapes over the windows, but since they had been there when I arrived at Public for my first year, I hadn’t thought much about them.

  “Who are you?” I demanded, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “What are you doing here? How dare you enter my library?”

  There was a soft laugh, and something I couldn’t make out came toward me from down one of the rows of books that spiraled endlessly in front of me.

  I tried to focus my eyes, but there was nothing wrong with my eyes. The problem was that whatever I was looking at was not entirely solid.

  Coming toward me was a white, wispy figure, small, as small as a child and much smaller than my little brother. He wore white robes and a large hat. He basically looked like the mages in stories, only on a smaller scale. He had a large nose and spectacles and gave me a bright smile. If he had been green I would have thought he was a pixie.

  I stared open mouthed. “You’re dead,” I said, shocked.

  “Well spotted,” the ghost affirmed. “My name is Sigil.”

  “But, what?” I sputtered. I had no idea how to respond to this, except that it answered the question of why this denizen of the library had never stolen food from the kitchen to live. Sigil watched my face closely. It was hard to tell how old he’d been when he died, but I guessed he had been much older than Risper or Dacer.

  “Ghosts are not respected creatures in the paranormal world,” he explained. “We are considered part of the ‘sixth’ or lesser types of paranormals. I am with your Mrs. Swan and the Slime Dwellers. Now I live here.”

  I shook my head, still too surprised to move. “You must have more of an explanation than that,” I said. “Let’s hear it.”

  Sigil laughed softly again. Strangely, his lips didn’t move when he talked and his belly didn’t shake when he laughed. It was like sounds coming from a hologram.

  “You first, my dear girl. It has been many a year since I’ve had a visitor, though I used to have many. I know, from my last visitors, that elementals were dying. . . .” Despite the lack of movement in Sigil’s face I saw sadness light his eyes. “I wish I had paid more attention.”

  I realized now that Sigil must have been around for the end of the elementals.

  “They let you stay here?” I demanded. “Why?”

  Sigil blinked. “They didn’t let me do anything. The last librarian of this fine library was a friend of mine back in our school days. Once I became a ghost I had nowhere to go. I wandered for many years, lost and alone. I tried to live in several places, with my family, for example, but I couldn’t do it. They kicked me out, chased me away with fire and pitchforks and incantations. They hated me. They were embarrassed by me. Eventually I ran out of places to go, so I came here. I like being among the books. . . .”

  He stretched out his arms to take in the library. I had to admit, the place had a certain charm to it. I could see how he would find comfort here.

  “At first,” Sigil continued, sounding almost giddy at having a chance to talk to another paranormal, “I hid, just as I have for the past few years. I was very afraid that I’d get found out here as well, and then where would I be? I would watch the librarian go about her business, a lovely woman by the name of Mabelle. I thought I had kept well out of the way, but one day she came right up to my hiding place and told me to stop being silly. She had known I was there since the beginning, and as long as I didn’t make a mess, which I most certainly did not, she was happy to have me for as long as I wanted to stay. She quickly noticed that I knew the cataloging system, and since there were several projects she needed help with, I might as well make myself useful. She also missed having someone to talk to. She didn’t mention for a long time that we had been classmates, and that when I died she felt sorry for me when she heard of my plight as a ghost. I used to be respected, you see.” He looked down and bit his lip. I saw now that his thin, frail hands were fidgeting with the fraying edge of his coat. “That’s another story, though.” He looked up quickly. “Do you like stories? I have many. Who are you, anyway? What’s happened?”

  “I’m Charlotte,” I said tentatively. I stepped forward to shake his hand and then realized that there was no point. “It’s nice to meet you, Sigil.”

  He smiled, tipping his hat slightly to me. “You too. I ask again: what’s happened? Mabelle just didn’t come back one day. After that there were a couple of days when they came and looked around, sort of boxed up her things, but not long after that everything went quiet. I hid, of course, and I’ve been glad for the quiet, but it does get lonely.” Sigil looked down, scuffing his booted foot on the ground. No dust rose up from his movements.

  I swallowed hard. “You really don’t know?” I asked softly. “The elementals that were last here, they didn’t talk about it?”

  Sigil looked up at me, hearing the sadness in my voice. “They discussed murders, but I was so afraid they’d make me leave that I stayed as far away as possible. Sometimes I look out the window and see the students walking around, and they look so happy and . . . and alive.” Sigil looked longingly at the covered windows. “I could see that none of them came to Astra until you and your friends showed up: that tall, intimidating-looking girl, the cute blond, and that incredibly handsome young man.”

  I raised my eyebrows as Sigil waggled a finger at me. “I have eyes. I used to be young once. The way he looked at you. . . .”

  I cleared my throat, sure that my face was burning. “So, you’ve been watching me for years?”

  Sigil nodded enthusiastically. “Every once in a while I would venture out at night, of course. Didn’t want to get too cramped. But I had to be careful, avoiding the vampires and such. Horrible creatures.”

  I nodded, deciding to answer his question in as straightforward a manner as possible, just to get it over with. “All the elementals are dead. Murdered. That’s why they stopped coming here and Astra stopped being used. There were no elementals left to use it.”

  Sigil stared at me, his eyes growing to the size of saucers as he sucked air in through his teeth - well, that was the sound he made anyway. Since air technically went through him I was not sure where it was actually going.

  He threw up his hands and started to pace, staring around. “Oh no!” he cried. “How awful. How just awful. So many lovely elementals. I thought they just stopped using Astra, that they had a bigger and better home, maybe that some went into hiding, but I never. . . .”

  He paused in his pacing and stared at the floor. His hat tipped forward, nearly covering his eyes. He shoved it back on his forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, meeting my eyes.

  I was touched by his compassion. “Thank you,” I said. “That means a lot.”

  He took a deep breath and tried to straighten his shoulders. “Get it together, Sigil,” he muttered. “You have a guest and you should be nice. Must be nice. Offer to help. Okay.” He looked at me again. “What did you come here for? Can I help you find something? I’ve read every book here twice. I’ve had some free time, after all.”

  I nodded, grateful for the offer. “I’ve been afraid to come up here,” I said, my voice breaking a little. “I’m the only elemental left, and somehow if I came up here, read about my history, researched my family, somehow. . . .”

  “It would mean they were truly gone,” said Sigil, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. Movements from ghosts were strange, like watching colored air move. “I understand,” he s
aid, waving his hands gleefully. “Sigil understands and I can help.”

  Sigil has spent a little too much time alone, I thought. And as a ghost. I knew nothing of ghosts; I would have to ask Sip later how to help them find peace. I felt sure she’d know all about it.

  “What is it you want to know?” he asked, nearly disappearing down the stacks and then reappearing. Without waiting for my answer he started madly grabbing books. He picked out a purple-bound volume with gold letters, than a green one inscribed with orange. He moved so fast I could barely see him. After a few moments he dashed over to me and started to pile the books in my arms, sputtering off names as he went.

  “An Elemental History of Elementals, and The Last Stand of the Elementals in 1704, Power and Purpose in Elemental Society, How to Get Along with Other Elemental Powers, A Revised Version 1968.”

  I laughed as the pile got large and larger and started to teeter.

  “I’m not sure I need all this,” I murmured, amused.

  “You do,” said Sigil, pausing for only a moment. “If you are the only elemental you are the keeper not only of their future but of their past. I understand it is a large responsibility, but you can manage.” I raised my eyebrows at his confidence in me.

  “I also wanted to find out about my family,” I said tentatively. “I don’t know anything.”

  Sigil paused for only a moment. “When you come back,” he said, nodding. “You tell me the name and I will find the material. Then we can read it together.”

  I tottered away, my back bowed slightly under the weight of all the books. “I’ll get the door,” said Sigil. He rushed forward and somehow - I had no idea how, and I was half tempted to ask him for a book about ghosts - he opened the old door. I heard the rusty hinges creak and saw the dark stairwell in front of me.

  “Do you want to come out and be in the rest of the house?” I asked, not sure I wanted this flappy little ghost around but feeling bad that he’d been up here for years. Sigil’s eyes grew wide again.