by Jenn Nixon
His mouth dipped. “Those of us who shared an element would clasp each other’s hands and evoke our power. Whoever held on the longest was stronger. You share fire, so you’ll feel heat.”
“Energy is cool, tingly?” Cyndra asked abruptly.
“Yes,” Zorin answered as his wings twitched.
And the others?
“Water and air are similar, it’s like pins and needles under your skin, and earth is like shockwaves I’m told.”
Eh, how strong does it get?
“Can it do real damage?” Cyndra frowned.
“In truth, I’ve never known adults to do it. We outgrew the game as teenagers.”
Cyndra gazed down at the triangle on her palm and traced it, making the heat surge through her hand. She needed to do things as if she were a kid. Deep down, she felt like one and had twenty plus years of training to catch up on if she wanted any semblance of control. She turned to a hopeful Rune, who was ready to take the risk and play a silly caster game to see who was stronger.
We both know it’s you anyway, with the fire, Rune projected with a grin as if reading her mind. I got you beat when it comes to earthcasting.
“Very true.” She smirked, relaxing and giving him a nod. Rune winked at her, rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, and flexed his hand. Cyndra playfully shook her head and stretched out her hand. He clasped her fingers. She gripped harder and sighed. Ready?
Rune nodded.
Cyndra tried to evoke the fire and realized she had no idea how. Yet the moment Rune’s hand grew warmer, her fingers sparked with heat. When she tried to tug her hand back, Rune squeezed and furrowed his brow.
What?
Flames sparked to life, covering their collective fist. Rune jerked backward and fell off the bench. Cyndra jumped to her feet and shook her hand. “Shit.”
Flecks of fire floated through the air.
Easy, Cyndra.
“Trying.” The flames grew bigger, out of her control again, just when she thought she was making progress.
The boat slowed.
Zorin’s energy swelled from behind sending shivers up her back. “Focus on the flames, caster, you’re in control.”
“I’m not,” she whispered as sweat soaked the rim of her hat and trickled down the back of her neck. “It just happened…”
He grumbled and clasped her left hand, instantly cooling her entire body and extinguishing the flames. Zorin stared at her again. The sensations that followed made her stomach flop. “When your hand caught fire in the woods, chasing after Rune, do you remember how it happened?”
“Sort of, I was angry, scared.”
Zorin released her hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You wanted to help him, protect him.”
“Of course, yes.”
“That is the ultimate power of the crystals, protection. We learn to control the elements to protect ourselves, others, the planet we draw our power from.”
“I don’t…”
“Rune, when you made the tea this morning, what…were you thinking, how did you do it?”
I, um, you really want to hear this?
Cyndra nodded, hoping to shake off the odd vibe Zorin emanated.
I was walking around the lighthouse wishing I had something to offer for breakfast. I knew you were going to give me more food, Rune said, shrugging. I saw this patch of grass and thought about trying to make something easy, like the dandelion, but edible. I focused on the dirt, grass, and knew what I wanted to grow there and…the tea plant just started to grow. All I wanted to do next was nourish it, make sure it was large enough to make leaves so I could share it with you.
“The crystal reacts to what you want when you focus your thoughts not feelings,” Zorin said and continued. “Controlling our emotions is paramount, and it’s not always easy.”
“No shit,” Cyndra said, plopping back down on the bench. “This isn’t working. I know you’re both trying. It’s my fault. I’m—”
“Casters are meant to be taught by their elders, starting at a young age. Elemental control is passed down through specific lineages since most families have their own methods. This is not your fault.”
Are Cyndra and I related?
“Unlikely, but possible,” Zorin said before returning to the boat controls.
Cyndra stared down at her hand, repeating Rune’s story in her head. Could it be that easy? She cleared everything from her mind while directing the heat to her fingers. Nothing happened. She tried recalling the sensations she felt when it started to form. That didn’t work either. Curling her fingers into a fist and commanding it to light on fire, although a long shot, was the last thing she could think to try until Rune’s earlier words replayed in her mind.
The boat began moving again. Cool, fresh air filled her lungs. Cyndra relaxed her body completely and then thought about what she wanted. More than anything, she wanted to understand how to use the power inside of her. She wanted to control the flames, use them to protect herself and her friends.
Her fingertips heated. Fire flickered to life and spread down her hand. Cyndra felt the connection this time. Instead of spreading her fingers to increase the flame, she focused on the size and imagined it bigger. It stayed the same for a moment, then sputtered and grew. She played with the size of the flame, understanding a little more with each moment that passed.
When she slowly crunched her fingers into a fist, the fire went out and Rune’s infectious grin made her chuckle. “I think I’m starting to get it.”
The journal will help. I really believe it.
“I hope you’re right, we need a major cram session to learn everything,” she said, trying to gaze casually toward the front of the boat. Zorin looked more like a gargoyle standing frozen at the controls, barely shifting the steering wheel as he guided the boat closer to the shore.
They had at least another hour to go, so Cyndra pulled out the full bottle of water from her pack, and took a healthy drink, needing it after creating that little bit of fire. Rune happily drank next and when he offered it back, she motioned to Zorin. Rune rolled his eyes, but got up and went to the front of the boat. Zorin thanked him with sign and accepted the bottle.
This power inside was getting stronger. Finding out the truth about everything else was still at the top of her list, but learning how to control and use it became her new priority.
When Zorin and Rune started chatting about boats again, Cyndra set her head down on her pack and clutched the crystal in her hand. She didn’t normally pray to a gods or goddesses or a spiritual creator, but as she shut her eyes for a quick nap, she more than hoped her grandmother’s journal had some answers.
Zorin sat on the back of the boat watching the casters disappear into the woods leading to Baltimore. After agreeing to stay behind to guard the boat in exchange for bio-diesel should they find any, he felt slightly guilty making the bargain now that they were gone.
He didn’t want to go into another town and risk a soulless seeing him or chance scaring Cyndra’s cousin or another caster. Staying away from the humans who couldn’t see him had become second nature. His time off the island didn’t change anything. He was still invisible to the world. He hoped the casters found everything they needed in town, including Pristy’s place of residence, otherwise, he’d have to offer his hunting skills to find her.
Forty minutes later, the soft rustling of leaves filtered through the woods. Zorin jumped to the bow of the boat, honing his gaze and senses in the direction of the sound. Rune exited the woods first, holding his cloak in one arm and a faded red gas can in the other. Cyndra appeared wearing a flattering new hat and a bright smile. Zorin swallowed and turned away. After catching her excitement on the boat when siphoning her power, he had pushed it from his mind and refused to acknowledge the yearning he experienced in return. It was growing more difficult with each passing hour.
We found someone selling fuel, Rune projected excitedly as he approached the boat.
“I bought everything that
had seeds, salted venison, a few veggies, and a couple rationbars, even have some dollars left over.” Cyndra jumped in and set the half-full basket of food in the corner of the deck. “More importantly, I know where my cousin is.”
“I’m surprised it was that easy,” Zorin replied, eyeing the basket as she emptied the contents and placed them in her overstuffed backpack.
“Anyone who earns or buys a government trailer is on the town or village roster unless they go off grid illegally,” she said as a frown fell to her face.
What’s wrong? Rune asked.
Cyndra shook her head. “Just thinking about the kids who come to my trade shop. They’re going to wonder where I am when I don’t open up tomorrow.”
Zorin said there are postmasters who send messages.
“I don’t want anyone to worry.”
Zorin never stopped to think about what she left behind. From the little he’d overheard and she told him, Cyndra had been on her own for quite some time despite her grandfather’s recent passing. Surviving on trade and government rations her entire life seemed a terrible way to live. “Tell them you’re visiting your cousin. It’s the truth.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, zipping her pack shut. “The clerk said we can go through town or around, end up the same place.”
“Take the shorter path. I’ll go around, watch from above,” he offered, thinking distance may help the tangible awkwardness.
I’d rather go around, together.
“Me too. Not a fan of this town, never understood Pristy’s fascination,” Cyndra said, hefting the bag from the deck.
Zorin reached out his hand. “I’ll carry the pack.”
Defiant Cyndra shook her head. “I got it.”
“Carrying twenty-five extra pounds of weight will slow your pace and tire you out faster than me,” he said using logic when he should have simply offered to help.
“Probably thirty-five by now,” she replied and glanced over to Rune who once more acted as a buffer and smiled. Cyndra mumbled as she lifted the bag without meeting his eyes. Zorin took the heavy bag and swung it over his right shoulder. “Thanks.”
Zorin nodded, staying a few steps behind allowed the casters to exit the boat and head down the dock first. He followed them across the sandy grass and into the woods, growing slightly concern when the sounds of the town filled the otherwise silent afternoon.
He only relaxed when they altered direction before the road to the main town became visible, and soon began to wonder how far the woods went. The casters remained silent or spoke privately for half an hour before Rune turned back.
Did you ask Mergan about the soulless?
“No, I never got the chance. If she visits me in my dreams again, I will get as much information as possible.”
“Your dreams?” Cyndra’s voice pitched.
“Yes. That’s how she normally talks to me.”
Cyndra stopped.
Zorin almost bumped into her. The blank expression on her face when he glanced down froze his veins. “What is it?”
“Grandma Evie…” she whispered, lifting her hand to her mouth.
Cyndra?
“It’s fuzzy, ugh…but I think she said something about visiting her in dreamland,” Cyndra shut her eyes and bunched her hand into a fist. The temperature increased instantly.
Instinctually, Zorin stepped between her and Rune in case she flared and gently sent his thoughts to her mind. Cyndra, look at me.
Her lids snapped back, revealing hard, angry eyes. The caster was ready to ignite. I’m tired of not knowing, understanding, being so out of fucking control.
Breathe, Zorin said. When she did, he opened the siphon and drew down her power, hoping it helped her find control despite the temptation to take more. Focus on the flame, not what you’re feeling.
After another deep breath, the heat subsided and the look in the caster’s eyes changed to surprise and confusion. Her cheeks flushed. She tried masking it by tucking the hair from her forehead back under the painter’s cap and turned her attention to Rune who asked if she was okay.
“I don’t really know anymore,” she said, sighing as she walked toward the concerned caster. “We should keep moving. I’d like to get there before the sun gets too hot.”
Rune nodded and led the way down the path. Taking his cue from the mute caster, Zorin remained silent, trapping his thoughts at the back of his mind, and focusing on one task: safely getting the casters to Pristy’s residence. With no way of guiding Cyndra and Rune in his present form, Evelyn’s journal was their only option. Although he worried the weight her words may carry, and the fate he’d suffer if Cyndra learned of his deeds during the war, Zorin needed her to see the monster he truly was instead of whatever she saw when she looked at him with her inquisitively intense eyes.
The woods ended but the walk did not. Another mile along the perimeter of town brought them to a crossroads with five directions to go. Three of them were marked with old country route numbers.
Twenty-two, Rune said, pointing to the northmost road, which looked mostly paved from his vantage point.
“Three miles down we take the path leading west and her trailer should be a mile in. We’re far enough from town not to attract much attention,” Cyndra added for his benefit, perhaps subconsciously knowing he was desperate to stretch his wings.
“I’ll find a secure place nearby and keep watch,” Zorin said, tightening his grip on the strap of her backpack. “Do you want the box?”
Cyndra shook her head. “Not yet. You keep it safe. I…haven’t seen her in about five years and don’t want to overwhelm her. Still trying to figure out what to say, how to begin.”
Your grandfather is the common thread, it’s the perfect starting point.
“Thanks, Rune, I honestly didn’t think of that,” Cyndra said. She rubbed her cheek and pulled the rim of her hat down to shield her eyes. From the sun or his curious gaze, Zorin didn’t know, but the last thing he wanted to do was make the situation more complicated. Having her trust guarding the journal was already more than he expected.
A thick ghostwood trunk caught his eye. Without lingering or seeking permission, he darted for the tree, jumped onto the stump, landed on a sturdy branch next, and climbed high enough to catch the wind.
Once in the air, his mind cleared and his muscles relaxed. Constantly being near casters was a test all its own. He’d quickly become spoiled by their power, distracted by their company, enticed by the look in Cyndra’s eyes.
Focusing on finding the cousin’s trailer, Zorin soared in the direction supplied, opening his senses to search for a new power riding on the air. Expecting to pick up something the nearer he came and sensing nothing, he quickened his descent and landed in a patch of overgrown bushes one hundred yards from a group of small trailers in the middle of an enormous clearing.
A large farm of various crops and a chest high mismatched fence surrounded the former truck containers. Two humans guarded the only entrance. Knowing he should warn Rune and Cyndra, he opted for the former, unsure he was ready to hear her voice in his mind again. Zorin turned his thoughts to Rune, sent the warning, and waited for his reply.
We’re almost there, thanks, we’ll be careful.
Aware there was nothing more to do but wait, Zorin put the heavy backpack on the ground, setting it against his leg and crouched between the bushes, looking for the clearest view possible. Until they wanted or needed his presence, he’d stay hidden and protect Rune, Cyndra, and her belongings.
The extra weirdness she felt around Zorin didn’t seem one sided anymore. Even though he said he wasn’t in her head, it often felt that way. He always seemed to know what to do to calm her down or help her focus regardless if she wanted his help or not. Cyndra figured it was part of the reason he warned Rune and not her about Pristy’s gated community.
She didn’t see any issue with her cousin living in an enclosed and guarded place. Everyone did what they needed to do to protect themselves. That w
as the only way to survive these days. While Cyndra had the safety of the marketplace and village ZoneGuards, outlying farms and communes and the like often had to fend off criminals and wild animals alone.
Rune, much more excited to meet another caster than anything else, slowed his pace as they neared the outer fencing, which Zorin didn’t mention. She glanced at the contraption securing the gate and furrowed her brow. It wasn’t manual.
“Who are you?” a crackly voice echoed through the air. Cyndra spun to the noise, spotting a gray and black speaker nestled between two bushes near the gate. “What do you want?”
“My name is Cyndra, I’m here to see my cousin, Pristy Raine, in trailer four,” Cyndra said, leaning over the speaker.
Do you think they will let us in?
Shrugging, Cyndra glanced through the gate, unable to see the trailers due to the bend in the path and all the new trees thickening the woods. After a couple more minutes, footsteps scraped along the ground, catching Rune’s attention as well.
Pristy’s tiny frame rounded a large tree and appeared on the path. Her bright brown eyes and warm smile were unexpected but not overly suspicious. Normally they had the same color hair, but her cousin always loved red and somehow had hers dyed a deep burgundy.
Cyndra lifted her unbranded hand in greeting. “Pleasant afternoon, Pristy.”
“Same to you, cousin,” she replied. As she approached the gate, a soft click echoed in the air. Pristy grabbed the handle and pulled it back. “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you. Welcome to Portertown.”
“Thanks. This is my friend, Rune,” she said.
Rune smiled and signed hello as he walked in.
Pristy slid one palm over the other then tapped her fists together and pointed to Rune.
Cyndra blinked. “You know sign?”
“Yeah, derp, I had a hearing impaired friend when I was a kid, remember?”
“No, who?”
Pristy’s brow furrowed then she waved her hand. “Who remembers names from back then, right? It was ages ago.”
