A Moonrise in the Fire, page 19
part #1 of An Element of Fire Series
“You’re only saying that because you’re halfway in love with him too,” Julius goads, his fiendish eyes agleam.
“You’re the one who got all hot and bothered when he showed you his big dagger,” Saphira retorts with a straight face.
They laugh hysterically and drift away to gather the rest of their belongings, arms slung around each other.
“Good thing you made us carry these metal swords and knives,” Saphira says, patting the leather belt. “Because they couldn’t have been heavier, and this hike could not have been longer…Stormfire.”
Phira smirks at Caelan while treading over spongey decomposing forest matter. The jungle foliage grows denser, so less sky appears through the canopy.
“Stormfire,” Phira and I repeat, giggling.
Caelan chuckles. “Do girls tell each other everything?”
Phira bursts out in coarse laughter. “Talvs, does he know your middle name?”
“Starlily,” I say.
Caelan turns to me with a wicked grin and silently mouths, “Starlily.”
I ignore him. “Grams’ favorite flower. Thanks for ratting me out, Midnight.”
Phira laughs. “Saphira Midnight. When your dad—who was a goth kid—chooses your middle name. Ask Julius what his is,” she says, deflecting.
“Julius Kiyoshi,” Julius says grudgingly, kicking a large seed pod across his path.
“Julius Kiyoshi sounds nice,” I point out, not understanding why he’s sullen about it.
“You didn’t tell them the best part.” Saphira snickers.
“I hate you, Phira.”
“What part? We all told you our embarrassing middle names,” I say.
“I have two middle names,” Jules says as surly as possible.
Saphira can no longer contain herself. “Jupiter! Julius Kiyoshi Jupiter,” she blurts out, unable to contain her glee.
“Jupiter, the gaseous giant in your mortal realm?” Caelan taunts.
“Jupiter, the god,” Julius retorts.
“Hot.” Caelan approves.
Several hours into our rainforest trek, more words materialize on the scroll I hold in my hands as if reading a map. “We’re close,” I announce, showing them the almost-full page, front and back.
The four of us scour the glass displays in the tree trunks.
I point. “There.”
A wide tree contains a bronze statue of a young girl. The statue’s face resembles the little girl we left at the mirror-temple, though a few years older. The display description reads:
Mathilde Jorde, age 10. First Keeper of the Gate and Temple. Door #3 in the House of Mortals #8.
The House of Mortals #8? Does that refer to Starstone, or my realm? Are there at least seven other mortal realms?
And…Door #3? Where are there other doors to the Garden of Lanterns and Keepers of those temples and doors?!
This is huge. A shudder cuts up my spine.
I am part of something unimaginably vast. Not just a tour guide.
My hands shake as I check the scroll. All the words have vanished.
“The statue is holding a scroll,” Caelan says, eyeing the display.
“Do we take it?” I ask.
“How? Break the glass? Is this stealing—will an alarm go off?” Saphira worries.
“I got this.” Julius launches a tumbling rock like a bowling ball into the exhibit. It shakes but doesn’t shatter. Not even a tiny crack.
Caelan snickers. “Too basic.” He throws a turquoise flame against the glass.
Nothing.
Saphira and I giggle.
“This happens more often than you think, Starlily and Midnight,” Caelan quips.
“Try heating the glass to weaken it, Stormfire,” I suggest.
“Then Jupiter will strike the glass at the hottest point,” Saphira says, grinning.
“I’ll reach in and grab the scroll,” I say.
“And I’ll stand by to put out any fire that spreads,” Saphira says, “to protect the scroll and the forest.”
The boys jostle to be the one closest to the display before reluctantly standing together to cast Fire and Earth while I position myself behind them with a hand on each of their shoulders, lending them my Element.
A brilliant blue flame and a booming shockwave later, the glass fractures into two evenly sized pieces and drops onto the soft rainforest floor.
“Telluric energy. Magnetic earth energy,” Phira whispers to me, explaining the power Julius summons. “He’s so hot when he’s that intense.”
I push through between the boys and lift the scroll out of the statue’s hand. When unraveled, the incantation appears in full on both sides.
I replace the scroll with the phantom scroll, and Caelan fuses the glass back together with his bare hands. His flame matches the color of the tropical leaves around us.
We don’t have time to celebrate. From behind a cluster of low palm trees, five red-uniformed guards shift out of the shadows and storm toward us, marching as one unit. Their various appendages—fins, limbs, pincers, furred tails—carry weapons. As they prowl closer, it becomes apparent the guards are taller and heavier than any of us, and we are perhaps outmatched.
“I think we broke the Do Not Touch rule,” Saphira says, backing away, her eyes sliding to me.
“Who dares loot from the Gallery of Infinite Artifacts?” the largest one demands, his tail wielding an axe.
“I am Talvi Jorde, the rightful keeper of Starstone Gate and Temple from which this was taken. The scroll belongs to me.” Okay, that sounded good. But I falter as they continue their approach. “Technically, the Temple owns this, and the words were hidden, so I’m just trying to help my gran…” I ramble because I’m nervous and all eyeballs are on me.
Caelan’s hand casually rests on his sword, and Julius has unsheathed the Midnight Serpent and holds it steady.
“We leave this realm in peace,” Caelan says, stepping forward.
“Fire Element. Peace is a farce for your realm. You take what is not yours.”
“The scroll belongs to the Temple and its Keeper.”
“That is not what we speak of,” says a female with a human body and fish head. She has fins on her back and stalks toward us, spear in hand.
Caelan hesitates.
“What do they mean? What else did we take?” Julius asks.
Saphira stealthily empties her pockets of pretty pebbles and tree nuts she collected along the way.
The stern face of the axe-wielding red guard breaks; he chuckles. “You may keep those, young Water Element.”
The five red guards form a semicircle and advance to surround us.
“The Keeper may leave,” one guard says.
“And the rest of us?” Caelan snarls.
“The scroll was hidden from others who seek to exploit the Keeper and the power of the incantation.”
“I was sent to protect her,” Caelan says coolly, tension plastered across his face. He shifts ever so slightly, casually flanking me—a better angle of attack, I assume, knowing him.
“These are my trusted friends,” I say. “We need the scroll to restore my gran. She’s a Keeper too.”
They consider this for a long moment as two of them discuss options under their breath before turning back to address me.
“One is not to be trusted. But these are not our politics. We are guardians of the trees and the artifacts. Leave, if you believe you can protect the scroll.” The guards fan out to slip back into the trees and vines off the path, sifting into the dense spaces where the shadows of the tree trunks converge.
Stunned silence.
Julius’ dark gaze passes over me—to Caelan.
“One is not to be trusted,” Julius repeats.
Unruffled, Caelan stares ahead, his gaze ice-cold. “I’m not going to defend myself to you. Talvi trusts me. That’s all that matters to me.”
“We need to get back to the lantern.” I link arms with Saphira to pull ahead. Caelan catches up and strides past us, scouting our path, while Julius lingers behind, sweeping the forest behind us with his dark glower.
“Psst. Do you trust him?” Saphira whispers.
“Yes,” I say with certainty.
“Perhaps… You can’t trust someone that attractive?”
On the surface, Saphira teases, but underneath there’s a plea in her tone; she’s asking if I’m letting my feelings get in the way of my intuition.
“Um, we trust him with our lives.” I tip my nose over my shoulder at a dignified Julius striding behind us, his serious face as handsome as ever in the angled afternoon light. Light and warmth—Saphira explained earlier—from cosmic material spiraling into the black hole instead of a sun.
“Yeah, but he’s grouchy all the time. It doesn’t count when he’s basically a responsible, grumpy old man,” Phira says.
“True.”
“Just saying. If you think Caelan’s good inside, I believe you. But if he hurts you, I’m going to drown him so hard.” She leans inward excitedly. “Did I tell you that if Julius makes a rockslide, I can generate a waterfall cascading over it—and a rainbow appears? We have so much more power together.”
“That’s amazing. And adorable. Good talk, Midnight.” I squeeze Phira’s arm gratefully.
“Good talk, Starlily.”
Without the burden of having to search each tree display, Julius figures the return journey to the lantern will only take us half a day.
When Saphira estimates we are about an hour’s trek away from the lantern, Caelan halts, unnaturally still.
“Get down—all of you. On the ground,” he hisses.
His voice is smooth, but he’s already unsheathed both swords, ablaze and scorching hot. He stands ready, piercing the air above us with smoke and flame.
Fear slithers into me.
From the high treetops, flashes of silver rain down.
For a moment I believe a slew of Wind assassin knives fly at me again, but the silver streaks scream and the knives split open. Metal beaks—sharp as daggers—on large black-and-white flying mammals. A flock of flying…badgers? Marmots? Otherworldly creatures that remind me of how far away from home I am.
I have no idea what to do to defend myself from them except to run for my life.
Trying not to panic, I grip the newly found scroll in one hand and fling off my pack with the other to sprint to the largest tree for shelter. But the entire flock of creatures is after me. Just me. I tuck the scroll down my shirt.
“We want the incantation!” they screech in my ears.
“Earth Wights. Draw your swords!” Caelan yells, reminding me to unsheathe my blade. “Their beaks are coated in a mineral from their realm that makes them as sharp as any knife.”
As I slice my sword through the air, Caelan sets it ablaze. I slash at one flying badger, setting its fur on fire, but another one swoops instantly. When I lunge forward to attack, my blade strikes its metallic beak.
Metal on metal clangs, ringing through the trees.
I grasp my sword with both hands this time, keeping my back to a tree, refusing to look as afraid as I feel.
Two more plummet out of the sky, their four clawed feet splayed like a flying squirrel—except far from being cute, they are dangerous and lethal. I wonder for a quick second what they do in their realm when they aren’t on the attack, but I am forced to duck again and again, slashing my blade of fire at them. One poor creature skewers itself but is able to soar up, taking my sword with it. A trail of dark green blood trails behind it as it escapes over the palm fronds, vanishing as it drops into the deep jungle far from the path.
Three Wights split from the screeching flock and nosedive toward Caelan. He’s driven into the vines as he throws fireball after fireball, but their metal beaks swallow the flames.
Saphira and Julius stand back-to-back, combining their Elements to defend themselves from the diving stabs of the flying Wights. Julius hurtles boulders, and Phira’s Water Element, mightier than ever, carries the rocks faster and farther in a great rushing wave, knocking a number of beasts aside as they strike repeatedly.
The remaining creatures hover over me, stabbing with their beaks.
I am forced to run.
They seem frenzied and furious that I injured one of them, and as they swarm around me, I throw smaller knives at them from the strap around my chest. I hit two, but most of the blades are deflected by the creatures’ metal beaks and fall uselessly to the ground. I scan the forest for my friends.
I am alone.
Caelan, Saphira and Julius have been drawn away.
Half the flock of beaked badgers circles up and organizes into a diving formation, but instead of attacking me, they merge into an enormous and terrifying version of itself, growing an even bigger, sharper beak.
The new creature soars in a wide arc before it descends.
Caelan darts out from behind a tree, around which his three attackers lie sprawled, and draws flame as he sprints to me.
His face is dark with fury.
The rest of the flock follows. To my horror, they too combine into a second tremendous creature. Claws out, it dives for Julius and Phira.
Caelan can’t reach me in time. From afar, he shouts, “Defend yourself. Access your powers!”
“I’m trying! I’m just a battery for other Elementals,” I yell back, my palms spread before me in an attempt to wield a power, any Element at all.
“You have everything. I believe in you.”
I stop running and turn to the plummeting metal beak. I focus all my attention on my hand like I’ve seen Caelan or Saphira do to gather their Element, and I envision firing something, anything. But what I come up with…is nothing.
“Nothing’s happening! I’ve got nothing.”
I’m out of knives. Out of choices, out of options, I do the only thing I can to protect the scroll. I use my own body as a shield as the soaring badger tries to snatch it out of my shirt. The only instinct that kicks in isn’t any sort of Elemental power, but the instinct to place myself between danger and what I love. The scroll is the only way to fix my Grams. The scroll is my gran’s life.
That’s everything.
I curl over it. “They want you, but I’m your Keeper, and I’ll protect you,” I whisper to the scroll and to Grams, wherever she is.
The metal beak ascends one last time in preparation for a final dive.
At least it will kill me quick and easy. One big stab instead of many beaks tearing me to pieces.
It’ll give the others a chance to save the scroll and Grams and themselves.
The merged beast plummets into me, and its metal beak skewers my side. There’s a sickening crack as my rib snaps.
I hear myself I scream. I must be in shock, because for a second I feel nothing. Then agony swells through me, wracking my body with violent spasms.
Excruciating pain flows into my entire being as blood spills rapidly from the wound. The salty odor of blood hangs in the back of my throat when I gasp for breath. Tangy, warm, metallic blood.
I coil tightly over the scroll. They can’t have it. It’s my job to protect it. It’s part of the Temple. I am its Keeper.
My hand goes to my side, feeling wet, warm liquid. I panic. Is this how people die? The stench of my own blood fills my nostrils and bubbles into my mouth.
Caelan appears, and I last see his expression of horror twist into a chilly rage before darkness swallows me whole.
Iawaken to piercing pains in my stomach. Groaning, I raise my head, only to find myself on the rainforest floor in a pool of my own blood. My green sweater is tattered, and rolled up off my stomach to reveal the deep puncture in my torso.
Saphira and Julius kneel beside me. Caelan cradles me, attempting to seal the gruesome wound.
“Welcome back. Though it was better when you were unconscious. The puncture went through, front to back.”
“None of your vitals were too badly damaged,” Julius says encouragingly, trying to be upbeat for my benefit. “And your rib has been reset and repaired.” He nods at Caelan. “Someone knows what they’re doing.”
Saphira sweeps the hair off my forehead.
“I already mended the puncture in your back.” Caelan offers his hand for me to grip. “I have to finish sealing up the internal bleeding before I close off the damage on this side. Ready?”
I clench my jaw, glancing away from the dark, oozing hole in my right side where it looks as if someone took an ice-cream scoop and hollowed out a piece of me. The sight of it makes me gag. I nod once, pushing back against the rising nausea spiking through me.
Caelan leans closely, ignoring the spurting blood, and presses a finger into the opening. “Aaaaaaaaah!” I yell out, and the stink of burning flesh almost makes me pass out again. I wish I could pass out.
Every second is like dragging broken glass over my already shredded flesh. I focus all my thoughts on his hand holding mine and squeeze as hard as I can. He doesn’t flinch, but his eyes flick to me, checking to see if it’s too much, if he’s reached beyond the edge of pain I can tolerate.
“Just finish it.” I clench my teeth.
“It’s cut very deep—an artery—and you’re bleeding out.”
I nod, biting my lip.
“Not gonna lie; this will hurt,” he says, his brows lifting apologetically. “I’ll do it as lightly as I can.”
“Do it.”
He grips my waist with one hand around the puncture, and hovers his mouth over the bleeding, exhaling as lightly as possible as if he blows on fading embers to encourage them to light. Though his touch is gentle, it feels like a hundred rusty nails stabbing into my side at once.
This time, I scream.
Saphira winces and looks away, though she keeps a hand on my shoulder as I wail.
Caelan glances up at me and repeats.
The bleeding slows to a gooey, lava-like ooze. He says, “This is the last part. Remember, you saw me doing it to myself.”
I’m brave, I’m brave, be brave. I can’t think of anything else. I steel myself and interlace my fingers in his. He ignites a pinkish flame and draws his fiery finger along the long opening. My breath comes in gasps, and I muffle a long cry into my pressed lips.
