Elemental Release (3 page)

I learned that I could change things I didn’t have control over.

I stood abruptly and, before I could change my mind, nearly sprinted back to the dining hall. Gabby wasn’t hard to find. She sat with Liz at a table near the windows, her eyes trained on something outside the glass.

I wavered for a moment, but only a moment. Then I crossed the room and took her hand. She startled when I touched her, but she stood when I pulled her toward me.

“Adam—what—?”

I kissed her, hesitant at first. When she didn’t shove me away with flaming hands—as she had in the past—I felt encouraged to make the embrace a little deeper. Catcalls and applause echoed around me, but I kept myself centered, kept my attention on the way she tasted like strawberries and cheesecake. The way she threaded her fingers through my hair—
I will never cut it
—and the way she sighed when I finally pulled away.

She kept her eyes closed as her chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

“Come on,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. I threaded my fingers through hers and nodded to Liz. “I need to talk to Gabby. Excuse us.”

Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she simply nodded before I towed Gabby out of the dining hall.

I didn’t take Gabby back to my quarters, though I thought about it. Instead, I softened my fingers over hers, allowing her the ability to pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t.

A small smile crept across my lips as we left the Academy and entered the bright noonday sunshine. I wandered down the street, away from school, and cares, and worries. She came with me willingly—and silent, of course.

“How was your morning?” I asked as we entered the shade of a towering oak tree. I released her hand as I sat on the ground, my back resting against the gnarled trunk. I reclaimed her hand after she sat, sandwiching it between both of mine. I didn’t dare look up at her, for now content just to be with her without knowing or seeing how she felt.

“Tiring,” she finally said. “My mentor wants me to do all kinds of things I don’t know how to do.”

I nodded, my hair flopping into my eyes. I smoothed it away. “I know the feeling. Mine wanted me to pull a jet stream from the atmosphere.”

“Wow,” she said. “Can you do that?”

I chuckled. “No, I failed miserably.”

“Hm,” she said, a playful note entering her voice. “I don’t see you as the type of person who fails.”

I finally raised my eyes to hers. Unwilling to intrude on her thoughts, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking just by looking at her face. But I could gaze at her forever. With soft, blonde hair that fell in waves below her shoulders, and eyes the color of mint tea, and those lips that made me ache to touch them.

I leaned forward and kissed her again. It ended quickly, and I looked away. “I fail at a lot of things.”

“Sure,” she said like she didn’t believe me. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I stood abruptly, separating myself from her. Making a conscious choice to do so—to keep this distance between us—felt like another item to add to my list for Airmaster Rusk.

I took a couple of steps away before I turned back just as suddenly as I’d left. “Okay, so my mentor wants me to be at peace in order to manipulate the air. He’s asked me to make a list of things that keep me from this calm, centered state I need to be in.” I took a deep breath and plowed on, despite the surprise on her face.

“And you’re on it. I mean—” I exhaled, noting the disappointment now cascading through Gabby’s eyes. “I mean, this.” I gestured between the two of us. “This is on it. Us. Me and you. See, I really want there to be a me and you. I want to kiss you everyday in the dining hall, and hold your hand all the time, and maybe sleep over in your room when Cat’s in mine.”

Tornadoes
, I thought.
Did I just say what I thought I said?

Gabby gasped, but I’d said too much already.

“That came out wrong. Or maybe it didn’t.” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I just know I want to be with you. All of me, with all of you. And I feel like there’s something between us. My failures—which trust me, I have many. I didn’t save you in Cornish.” My fists clenched at the simple thought of how Felix had touched her.

“I couldn’t protect you from Alex. I let Hanai die….” I trailed off and looked away again. “So don’t say I haven’t failed. I have. Spectacularly, and in a lot of ways. I’ve failed
you
.”

Making another choice, I stepped right into her personal space. “I’ve failed you, and I’m so sorry about it.” I leaned my forehead against hers and closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the range of emotions on her face.

She put her hands on my shoulders. “You didn’t let Hanai die,” she whispered, her voice choked and raspy. “I killed him. And that’s a big difference.”

“Is that what you think? That you killed him?” I put a knuckle of space between us so I could see her reaction. A single tear slithered over her cheek as she nodded.

“Gabby,” I said. “That’s ridiculous. As a chartered Council, you can’t hurt any of us with your fire. You didn’t kill Hanai.”

She shook her head violently, a sob raking its way out of her throat. I wanted to hold her and tell her how beautiful and powerful she was. Make her feel anything but this pain.

“I did,” she said. “I called the fire from the earth to hurt Alex. I couldn’t control it, because it
wasn’t
my fire. I killed him.” She took a shuddering breath and closed off her emotions. I watched her eyes harden, the tears stop, and her shoulders rise. “So you don’t get to blame yourself for that, okay?”

“Gabby—”

“No,” she said. “Cross it off your list. He was my Unmanifested, and I killed him.” Her face softened, her mouth pulled into a tiny smile. “I know you carry a lot for me, Adam.”

I couldn’t remember the last time she’d said my name, only my name, with so much tenderness.

“And for a while there, I needed you to carry it all,” she continued. “But I don’t anymore. You don’t have to be the Firemaker and the Airmaster.”

“I’ll be whatever you want, whatever you need,” I whispered.

She stood on her tiptoes, bringing her lips close to mine. “I know,” she said. “And I love that about you.”

I eliminated the “that about” in that sentence, hoping one day she’d say those three words to me, in the right order.

“But don’t blame yourself for Hanai’s death. I mean it. Cross it off the list, and find the peace by doing so. Become the Airmaster I need you to be.” She withdrew from me, moving to the edge of the shade. She glanced back. “Are you coming? I think afternoon lessons start in a few minutes.”

She held her hand out, waiting for me to take it and go with her.

So I did.

Afternoon lessons, it
turned out, started in Gabby’s apartment. We arrived last, and she quickly dropped my hand before anyone on the Council could see. I tried to stifle the sting of her sudden distance, but I didn’t succeed. The hurt sang through me for a few minutes, long enough for me to take a seat as far from Gabby as possible.

I settled next to Isaiah and crossed my arms. Cat and Liz were engaged in a conversation, which ceased as soon as Davison strode through the door.

Gabby, who had sat on the couch next to Liz, jumped up. “Supremist.” She bowed at the waist while the rest of us found our feet. We all paid the proper homage, and Davison
tsk
ed.

“No need for that,” he said. “Though I suppose some customs will take a while to die.” He bade us to follow him. “Come, your Council lesson today will take place in my conference room.”

I followed Isaiah and Cat out of the room and into the fortress. I’d been in the Supremist’s conference room before, but now it felt different. The air of fear had been stripped from the entire city, and I wasn’t the only one to notice.

The servants moving through the fortress didn’t harbor dodgy eyes or stiff necks. I didn’t feel the need to constantly check over my shoulder to see who might be watching. I’d never been in the fortress without Felix, except for the one night I’d snuck into Alex’s chambers after Isaiah had told me about his suspicions of her gender. Even then, Felix had been there.

I chased away those thoughts, unwilling to remember the strong sense of betrayal I’d felt that night. I felt guilty for causing Gabby to feel the same way because of what I’d done. But I’d had a part to play to ensure her safety—as well as mine.

We joined the crowd already gathered in Davison’s conference room. I didn’t see anyone I knew, though that wasn’t surprising. With so few Elementals left, Tarpulin housed the only operating school, and these people had come from all over the United Territories.

I found an empty chair in the back and offered it to Gabby. Cat sat next to her, and Isaiah stood against the wall behind them. I joined him, and Liz sat on the floor in front of them. Davison made his way to the front of the room, and the buzzing chatter ceased.

“Welcome to the first day of training,” he said, his voice amplified through a device called a microphone. The black plastic looked ancient, and I was actually surprised the fortress was wired with the necessary electricity for the advanced technology.

“Today, I wish to discuss each of your individual roles.” He paced in the small space, though he didn’t seem uncomfortable. “I find it best if every member of the Council understands the other’s roles. That’s why entire Councils are gathered here today. In the future, we may have more meetings like this, but most of your afternoon lessons will be on diplomacy for your specific Elemental ability.”

He nodded to someone, and a screen blazed to life on the wall behind him. His picture became brighter as he continued to speak. “The Firemaker is the Councilman. Ultimately, the decisions are made by the Firemaker, though the Council holds conferences and meetings to come to an agreed-upon solution to whatever problems have arisen.”

Another picture flashed on the wall, and I recognized Jones, Davison’s Airmaster. “The Airmaster serves as the primary advisor to the Firemaker. As the Airmaster is a huge potential threat, his life is usually taken before the Firemaker’s if it comes to combat.” Davison paused to take a drink. “The Firemaker and Airmaster should be one in purpose, and trust one another explicitly. If either party feels like the Council isn’t working because of the other, reassignments can be made.”

I glanced at Gabby, though she had her back to me. In a rare moment of weakness, I found her thoughts and listened.

…Hope Adam doesn’t want to be reassigned
.

The smile that came unbidden to my face felt like it might crack open my skull. I wanted to lean forward and whisper, “Never,” but I didn’t want to admit that I’d eavesdropped. She glanced at me, and I wiped the grin away.

She refocused on the screen quickly, as Davison continued. “The Earthmover plays an important role, acting as lead counsel in matters directional, as Earthmovers have a sixth sense with the flow of the planet. Their abilities are often underestimated, and they can provide additional protection for their Councils, even to the point that, when their powers are combined with a Watermaiden’s, sentries are not needed as bodyguards.”

Davison took another drink. “Therefore, the bond between Earthmovers and Watermaidens is often emphasized as well. The stronger they are together, the more protection they can offer their Councilmen, their city-states, and their citizens.”

Cat turned and grinned at Isaiah, and I knew there weren’t any bonding issues there. I almost rolled my eyes at the lustful look he gave her. Amazing how he could do that and not be able to see her.

“The Unmanifested represents a huge population of people in the United Territories. Their opinions should not be taken lightly. In the past, the Unmanifested Councilmember has functioned in an…unsavory role, carrying out orders the Firemaker did not wish to do himself. It has been our custom to never pit Elementals against Unmanifested citizens. I still believe that to be important, but I am creating a new role for our Unmanifested Councilmembers.”

He scanned the room, letting the tension increase until it found its peak. Someone coughed, and it sounded like gunfire. My eyes flew to the guy, whose face turned bright red.