A Moonrise in the Fire, page 8
part #1 of An Element of Fire Series
His breath snags, surprised for only an instant before he delves deeper into me, taking my mouth, devouring and wanting.
The untethered power surfaces, engulfing me in fiery heat and strength. It spreads into my face, my neck, down into my breasts. The prickling burn hollows my stomach… He keeps his hands to himself, but in a reckless flare of bewildering desire, I wish he didn’t.
I nearly groan, savoring his warmth.
I manage to catch my breath and release him, staggering back. There’s a pulse of silence between us. He leans forward and presses his forehead against mine, his eyes shut. By the rosy flush of his cheeks, I know I’ve awakened the same wild craving in him.
“Aren’t you a gorgeous nightmare. I meant on the cheek, but that was good too.” He’s unable to contain his wolfish grin, the grin of someone who’s won a prize from a contest he was never supposed to have entered.
My body and mind reel, disastrous and heady. Am I actually attracted to him, or perhaps I’m a little addicted to the power of his Fire Element that courses through me when we touch?
Maybe both.
Before I can reply, he tilts his head back and gulps the contents of the teacup. He chokes and curls over, coughing smoke.
He falls onto his knees, still gagging, and crumples onto the straw mats of the tearoom’s floor, corpse-still.
“Caelan!”
No! He was wrong? What the hell?! I drop down to his side, the blood draining from my face so quickly, it leaves me lightheaded.
From within his coiled body on the floor, his hand limply releases the teacup. It spins in place once before rolling across the mats.
I try to lift him upright, but he’s too heavy. If we leave the mirror-temple, could we start over?
No, we’re out of the time loop already. The note said poisoned—dead—Elemental or not.
“Is he dead?” the small girl asks flatly.
Caelan is still motionless.
I heave him onto his back and place an ear to his chest, listening for a pulse, a breath—any damn sound other than hopeless stillness from him.
“C’mon. You were sure this was the answer!” I slap his face irrationally, as if he’d fallen into a lazy nap. My eyes dart furiously around the room. Maybe there is a hidden antidote, something else I’m supposed to figure out. I rise off my knees and sprint to the kitchen. Even if it is useless to force down water to flush out the poison, I have to try—
I race back with a glass of water. With trembling hands, I tilt his head back and pour water into his loose, open mouth. It spills out over his cheeks.
How do you get a collapsed person to swallow water?
He sputters once, spitting out water, followed by silvery wisps of smoke.
Startled, I fall back onto my heels.
“That…was…the worst thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. Even worse than my Pyre Lyguanas’ food.” He looks up at me through his ash brown lashes. “Whew, whatever the tea was, it was strong enough to knock me out for a bit. Was I out long? You’re still looking appalled and haven’t buried me yet—so not long, I gather.” He rolls onto his back and lifts his head, blinking up at me, his wildfire irises brilliant and swirling.
“You’re okay?” I pull him up by his arm.
“If I say no, can I get another kiss? Though you do not want to taste what I just had. My taste buds will never be the same.”
I let go, so he drops back onto the mat. Ugh, so dramatic. If he can make jokes, he’s fine. I sigh a breath of relief but snark back at him. “I’m sure your personal chefs can cook up something to your liking when you get home.”
“You think I’m a high-maintenance spoiled brat, don’t you?”
“You scared me.”
“It’s not every day I do something for someone other than myself. We came up with the right answer, though! Did anything happen? Where’s the kid?”
From down the hallway, the girl hollers, “The front door opens! Come on, we can leave the Temple! Look at this.”
The mirror version of the Temple doesn’t have a cemetery like my Starstone. Instead of a dense thicket and the graveyard, old stone lanterns cover the entire courtyard to the left and beyond. That’s why no trees were visible from the window. The large cypresses are missing, though a few young maples and silver birches spring up here and there.
The stone lanterns are tiered and lit by fire, common in traditional gardens and older shrines. The entry to the garden of lanterns is under an arched bronze trellis hanging with wisteria and bordered by low hedges.
“A Thousand Shadows of a Thousand Realms,” Caelan says, stopping before the last stone step to scan the garden lawn crammed full of ancient lanterns. “Impossible.”
“The book? Of Elemental Mythology? Where the lanterns are portals… I wasn’t into it, but Saphira likes that kind of thing. I always preferred Greek or Norse myths.”
Caelan is as excited as I’ve seen him yet. “It’s real—I can’t believe it actually exists! The lanterns are doorways to realms, all in one location. Not all True Elementals can winnow in between realms, but here, anyone can go anywhere…” His lashes sweep down as his exuberant expression sobers. “Could be trouble if the wrong person has access to all these realms,” he concludes.
“Are there really a thousand lanterns?”
“There are a thousand realms. Give or take.”
“Not possible,” I whisper.
“I already said that.”
“Rian could be anywhere in a thousand realms? How are we—?” I stop, not wanting to say impossible again, so I fall into stunned silence.
The little girl races toward the nearest lantern, taking a leap over the hedge border, but falls backward as if she’s hit an invisible wall. “Ow! Oh, crumbs.” She rubs her bare, skinny shins.
“You okay?” I ask. “My gran also says oh crumbs when she stubs her toes.”
“We might have to enter through the gate after all.” Caelan toes his boot along the length of the unseen wall. “It goes all the way around, presumably.”
The low bronze gate is stuck slightly open, exactly like my version of the Temple, but when we turn sideways to slip through, a gravelly voice announces, “Oh, look. We finally have guests, Kyr.”
“I told you if we propped the gate open, someone would come through,” Kyr replies in a voice deeper and more methodic than the first.
“Who’s speaking?” I ask, running my fingers over the carved archaic lettering on the half-door. Same as on the graveyard gate on my side.
A stone Sea Dragon head coils under the archway, rustling through the purple wisteria to sway inches from my nose. He seems more curious than threatening, so I stand still and let him stare.
“Kyr, look! She has the scar, the aura. She must be a queen,” the Sea Dragon’s head says.
From the other side of the gate comes, “Nytryx, she’s a guide. Guide Queen, answer our question before we answer yours.”
“I’m not a queen of anything.”
“But the door must have chosen you.”
“I’m Talvi Jorde.”
“Yes, yes. Only those with the right Element may answer our question,” Kyr’s deep voice says.
Kyr is another dragon’s head, a Land Dragon, based on the lack of gills and pebbled lizard skin carved into the moving stone. Kyr peers under the top of the gateway, slinking downward to scrutinize me. I can’t tell if he is a second creature or if the two of them share a body on the other side. I suspect the latter by the way they bicker with each other, like siblings stuck in a shared bedroom.
“Shh! Give her our riddle. You must answer if you want to come in,” Nytryx beseeches.
“Does everyone enter if I answer correctly?” I ask. The right element, as in the right characteristic or attitude? I may have a chance yet. But if he meant Element, I would never pass.
“Yes, yes,” they say together.
“But if you do not answer correctly, you will return to your side of the door and the game is over. You will not return here,” the Land Dragon says ominously.
“This riddle is only for you,” the Sea Dragon head says.
“How did you know I was going to be here?” I’m filled with a mix of suspicion and confusion. It’s hard to believe I haven’t fallen into a fevered dream.
“It was time for you to enter,” they both say at the same time. “All the requirements were met.”
“You control the door by the altar?” I ask, incredulous.
“Together…we are Kyr and Nytryx. We receive bits and pieces from all across time and space. Sometimes when it looks like we’re asleep, we’re actually elsewhere in space and time. But it’s difficult to place. We don’t get the full picture in order; time and space are neither linear nor organized. It’s almost useless. And we don’t each have the same information.” Kyr says.
“Two heads, you see,” Nytryx says.
They slither their heads around to the front of the trellis. Like cobras, they sway hypnotically and snap at each other with serrated teeth. When they clash, they rumble like an avalanche of rocks.
“Focus, Nytryx,” Kyr says, shaking it off.
“Oh right, our riddle.
A pair of these is two, and 20 you’ve got a score.
12, you’ve got a dozen, while a gross is 144.
You can have a trio, or you can have many,
but if you’ve only a single one, you actually do not have any.”
“Why is it for me?” I ask.
They cease to respond. Kyr chews his whiskered lips, and Nytryx pretends to glance at the sky, checking for weather.
“Any idea?” Caelan looks at me expectantly.
“Okay, okay. What do I have one of in my life, which means I actually have none? One Rian, but now he’s gone…” I mutter, becoming more anxious at the thought. Think faster. “One family member? One life, one job. No one else can take care of the Temple. One chance to get this right…”
“You’re downward-spiraling,” Caelan says plainly.
“I have no idea. Oh, wait! Options! Choices! I have no choices when I only have one choice.”
Caelan glances at me curiously, the smugness of watching me struggle wiped off his face. He’s impressed. But there’s more. “One choice, huh,” he mumbles, nodding as if he can relate to my answer. He softens, and I give him a victorious smile.
“Guide Queen is smart,” Kyr says.
“I approve. You may enter the Garden of Lanterns.” Nytryx slinks sideways through the gate.
The little girl races into the garden, off toward the far corners to explore the lanterns.
“Don’t touch the lantern’s shadows!” the stone dragons warn simultaneously.
I pass through the low garden gate after the girl. I was right about Kyr. The dragons are one short body, like a scarf that ends in two heads. They weave around the top of the trellis.
“What are you?” I ask.
Kyr, the Land Dragon, answers. “We are groundskeepers. Nytryx, here—” he says, flaring his nostrils at the Sea Dragon, “—spurts water to wash the lanterns, and I breathe fire to light them. But some have extinguished recently, and I cannot reignite them. I do not know why.”
“What is this place?”
“A Thousand Shadows of a Thousand Realms,” says Kyr. “A space between realms, with access to all other realms.”
“I knew it!” Caelan says.
“Like the ancient mythology?” I ask.
“Yes, but it is not myth at all. If you studied the stories, if you’ve read the book, you should have more answers than us. We do not read. Reading is for those made of material other than stone,” Nytryx says.
“Rocks don’t read,” Kyr says.
“Are we rocks? Don’t say that. We are more than that.”
“You look like a rock to me,” Kyr insists.
Fangs flash and they snap at each other again.
“I was supposed to read it last year for school but haven’t gotten to it yet. Saphira and Julius are always discussing where they’d go in A Thousand Shadows of a Thousand Realms…” I turn to Caelan. “Did you study it?”
“Briefly, as a kid. Mythology wasn’t interesting to me. Not like Weaponry,” he says, “or War Strategy.”
“I should call them. They always have an answer.” I chew my lower lip, my thoughts unraveling. “Could others come in, Nytryx?”
“Your friends are welcome if you summon them here.” Nytryx sways, snaking through the trellis with a toothy grin. Clearly they haven’t had guests in a long time and they’re delighted at the unusual entertainment.
“How? Can I leave and come back with them?”
“Then you will forget and will need to pass the test again,” Kyr says.
“But they can come if I summon them? How?”
“This is your temple, your gate. You’re the guide, Guide Queen.”
“Does this place connect all the realms?” I ask.
“Like a thousand-legged spider,” Nytryx says. “Connecting a thousand realms.”
Caelan scans the Garden, as perplexed as I, given his lack of a jaunty retort. “I don’t remember much from A Thousand Shadows. I can’t believe the legends were real,” he murmurs. “If you think your friends can help…”
Saphira and Julius. I need them now.
I huff out a breath. Should I draw my friends into this insanity? I need to decide. “Do I summon them through one of the lanterns?”
“I have an incantation you can use.” Kyr motions with his head to approach him, and as I do, he ducks down and whispers in my ear.
“Repeat it in your head and then say your friends’ names three times,” he says.
Okay, so I’m supposed to do magic? This has to be a weird nightmare. Maybe I ate too much Halloween candy before going to bed. I feel absurd as I close my eyes and repeat the words in my head while calling out “Saphira and Julius” three times out loud.
I open my eyes and nothing happens. “Does it take a long time?”
“You did not do it right. Try again,” Kyr says.
I do, but nothing happens.
“Did you say all of it correctly in your head?” Caelan asks.
“Yes, of course.” I give him a dirty look.
I try one more time. It’s getting awkward. I know deep down it’s because I have no powers, and I worry that Kyr will kick me out if he finds out I have no Element and perhaps do not even belong here in the first place.
Nytryx interrupts my thoughts. “Tsk. Just help the Guide Queen, Kyr. I want to see what happens next.”
Kyr is motionless. A stone statue.
Nytryx frowns. “Kyr! Don’t pretend you’ve left the premises and are elsewhere in time. I can see your whiskers moving.”
Kyr sighs loudly. “Your friends are at the door,” he announces abruptly.
Did he bring them there? How would they know to come here? Did Kyr help me out of pity? Like letting a child win at a game when you see them struggling and failing?
Oh heck, I don’t care—they’re here! They’ll know what to do.
I race back into the long, dark hallway of the mirror-temple and find Saphira and Julius peering through the door.
“Talvi? Thank god you’re okay. This is new, right?” Saphira asks. “When you didn’t show up to school and there was a rumor Rian’s car was abandoned in the woods, we went to your house and then came here, searching for you.”
“What’s going on?” Julius asks.
I fling my arms around tall Saphira’s waist, gripping her tight. My insides shake with relief.
Julius is next. His face remains characteristically stoic, but he locks me in a close and prolonged embrace as if he knows I need it.
“I need your help. Both of you,” I say.
I lead them through the mirror-temple into the garden of lanterns, where Caelan awaits, and explain in one long breath how Rian was kidnapped, how we were attacked by a squid monster, that we’re in some In-Between gateway, possibly A Thousand Shadows.
Saphira’s eyes widen at the mention of her favorite book of mythology. I end with how Caelan and I escaped the time loop. At the mention of his name, Phira and Jules turn to the Fire Elemental.
From under his inky black hair, Julius’ deep brown eyes dart from me to Caelan. His distinctive stony, blank expression is marred by a twitch in his jaw, conveying his suspicions. Restrained and steady, he demands, “How do we find Rian?” It’s more of an accusation or a command for someone, anyone, to conjure up his buddy.
“Caelan believes the events are all related somehow,” I explain.
Julius pivots, his eyes flashing, squaring up to Caelan despite being outmatched physically by the Fire Elemental. He jabs a slender finger at Caelan’s exquisite face. “Caitlyn, huh. If you were sent to watch Rian, how did he get taken?”
“CAEL-lan,” Caelan articulates, dangerously calm. “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about; what we’re up against. I was sent to protect Talvi too, and I’ve done fine with that.”
Me? He was sent to protect me too? I don’t have time to react—
Shadowy smoke gathers over his head, forming a jagged crown.
“Have you? She’s bruised and beaten,” Julius says, an accusing finger indicating the gash on my forehead and my bandaged wrist. I always admired his predisposition for loyalty and protectiveness, but in this moment my ears redden.
I delicately rearrange my bangs to cover my forehead, suspecting the bump there will give me at least one black eye, if it isn’t already happening. “Jules, it’s all right, I was almost thrown off into the ravine. Caelan saved me.”
“Did he? I don’t trust him. From what I gather, he shows up and suddenly everything goes wrong?” Julius’ steely gaze pierces Caelan’s rising darkness of smoke.
The smoke smolders into a solid tangle of barbs and branches over Caelan’s head, expanding into the shadow of stag horns. A massive crown of smoke and bone.
He is terrifyingly beautiful.
“Would’ve been worse if I wasn’t here.” His regal antlers expand, curving above them, and when he says “I,” the stag’s horns ignite into blue flame, lashing out in all directions. He towers dangerously over Julius, who refuses to be intimidated and stands his ground, fists clenched.
