Elemental Release (9 page)

“My Unmanifested is on her way to Rhyss next week.”

Shane watched me for a moment. Then he said, “Davison wouldn’t send her if it wasn’t safe.” He stepped to the balcony. “Come on. Rusk said to take you to the beach for lessons.” He launched himself into the sky, his black mentor robes flapping in the wind. The sharp, whipping sound actually soothed me.

I remembered the peace I’d felt in Hesterton as I’d laid next to the stream. I remembered the release of hatred and anger I’d experienced when facing my brother. I couldn’t control what was happening in Rhyss, a city-state nearly one thousand miles away.

I could control what happened here, in Tarpulin, at the beach with Shane. I could control how I treated Liz and Gabby, how I confided in them, how I advanced my training to help them.

Airmaster Rusk’s words floated through my mind.
You must learn to let go of what you cannot control. Only then will your true power over air be awakened.

I trusted my mentor. I worried for him in Rhyss, but I let it go. I followed Shane to the beach, where he taught me to find miniscule currents among the roaring winds. It was delicate work, and the bones in my hands ached by the time we finished.

“Can you grip the jet stream?” I asked as we flew toward the city.

“Yes,” he said. “It is one of the most difficult tasks an Airmaster can do. Only those with extreme control—and a trusting relationship with the air currents of the earth—can master.” He landed on the balcony and entered Rusk’s office. “Can you do it?”
“No,” I admitted. “It’s what Rusk is trying to get me to do. I have a hard time even finding it.”

Shane smiled. “Yes, I remember. But there is great power in the jet stream. Enough to alter weather patterns, cause severe storms, and inflict great damage.”

I frowned, unsure if I should ask my next question. Rusk encouraged questions, and Shane was my friend, so I spoke. “Then why do we want to use them?” I asked. “I thought Airmasters used their power for good, not destruction.”

“Sometimes destruction is necessary to preserve lives,” Shane said. “I could’ve used a jet stream to dispatch you and save my Council. Rusk could be using one to capture Theo. Sometimes some have to die for many more to live.” He dismissed me, but I took his words with me. They lingered through lunch, though the conversation was somber as Liz explained the situation in Rhyss.

Her assignment hadn’t changed, and our training together had been accelerated. I listened to the inflections of her voice so I’d know when she was puzzled, or surprised, or worried. I memorized codes so I’d be able to translate her more sensitive messages. I wondered how Davison’s new internship program would really work. Would the Airmaster in Rhyss be able to interpret my voice inflections?

When I asked Liz, she said, “Perhaps we should come up with an opening code word. Something that if you start a sentence a particular way, it will indicate the mood of the message.” She glanced up from the table, where she’d been studying a list of her coded alphabets. “You know, so if you’re worried, you’d start the message with ‘It looks like rain today,’ or something.”

“That’s a great idea,” I said, smiling at her. The dinner hour was almost here, and I couldn’t wait to finish lessons. I’d anticipated that this first day back from vacation would be hard, but my mind felt overstuffed, and my hands still ached from the delicate work in the wind this morning.

By the time we went to dinner, we’d established openings for four types of messages: everything is great, things I was worried about, warnings for Liz to consider or take to her mentor in Rhyss, and things that are unclear or that I needed more information on.

Gabby took one look at me, and said, “Go to my apartment. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. I lifted one hand in farewell to Cat and Isaiah, already seated at our table, and dragged myself to Gabby’s couch.

A week later, I stood with my Council in Davison’s office. He wasn’t an elaborate man, but the fortress had been majestically constructed. The room could easily hold my apartment; navy drapes blocked the light from the soaring windows; rich rugs kept the chill of the stones from our feet.

He gestured us to a set of couches near the door, joining us after selecting a file from his desk. “Elizabeth, are you ready for your journey to Rhyss?”

She nodded, the lump in her throat moving as she swallowed.

“The reports I have from your mentor are impressive. You and Mr. Gillman have worked out a remarkable system.” He glanced at me, his eyes steely but a small smile on his mouth. He shut the file. “In fact, I am implementing some of your practices to my other Unmanifested interns. The opening sentence concept is brilliant.”

“Liz came up with that,” I said. I wanted to ask him about Airmaster Rusk, who still hadn’t returned. I’d counseled with Shane, who’d advised me to keep quiet. He’d been in contact with Rusk, but only to say he’d continue training me for another week.

Davison turned his smile toward Liz just as someone knocked on the door. It opened before Davison could invite anyone in, and I instinctively stiffened. But no one else seemed worried, and I cursed my inner sentry.

Three men entered, loaded down with backpacks, bedrolls, cooking equipment, and cloaks. “The away party is ready, sir,” one man said.

“Of course, of course,” Davison said, replacing the file on his desk and returning to us near the door. “Gentlemen, this is Elizabeth Nox. She is a fine Unmanifested, who will be a real asset to our diplomatic team in Rhyss.”

Liz stumbled to her feet as he spoke, a deep blush rising over her neck and cheeks. She bowed slightly to the men, who bowed in return.

Davison introduced them as Hugo, Victor, and Louis. I stalled on Victor’s face, wondering if it could be the same man I’d served with on Alex’s elite sentry squad. Sure enough, the same sloping nose, olive skin, and dark eyes watched me back. I nodded at him, though my sentry radar was clanging loudly in my head.

I stood abruptly and moved closer to the away party. “I’m Adam Gillman, Liz’s Airmaster. She’ll be communicating directly with me.” My voice came out laced with warning, exactly as I’d wanted it to. I shook hands with all three men, listening for their thoughts—especially Victor’s.

It is the same Adam Gillman
, he thought, almost smiling.
What a coincidence.

Nothing else. Nothing sinister, or even remotely worrisome. My anxiety dropped, and I took my place on the couch again. Gabby shot me a questioning glance, but I ignored her.

Liz accepted her own overburdened backpack and we all followed the away team out of the fortress. I stood on the steps and watched them head toward the northern gate, still not sure I trusted Victor.

Gabby took my hand in hers, and I finally tore my gaze from the retreating back of Liz. “What was that?” she asked.

“One of those men, Victor, used to be on my sentry squad.” I pulled her away from the others. “I wanted to make sure he was trustworthy.”

“And?” she asked.

I glanced at the away team just as they turned the corner. “He seems to be.”

“Surely Davison—”

“Surely Davison doesn’t know everything,” I said. I was tired of people acting like Davison couldn’t make a mistake. “Just because he’s an excellent Firemaker and the best Supremist we’ve had in decades, doesn’t mean he’s not human,” I whispered.

Gabby looked like she wanted to argue, but then she closed her mouth. “You’re right. But they’re gone now. We’ll just have to trust that we’ll hear from Liz in two weeks like we’re supposed to.”

I seized onto her words, onto her hope, and let her lead me to lunch.

Airmaster Rusk returned
the following week, with news from Liz. “She’s doing well,” he said. “She carries her own pack, makes her own meals. She keeps up with three grown men. She said to tell you she’s fine, and she’ll arrive in Rhyss on schedule.”

“Where did you see her?” I demanded. I’d been so happy to see Rusk in his office, I’d almost hugged him.

“Just outside of Quail Run,” he said. “She looked older than I remember.” He went into one of his musing trances, turning toward the window as he often did.

“I’m glad you’re back,” I said. “What’s the news in Rhyss?”

“We could not find Theo,” he said. “And between Jones and I, that means he wasn’t there to find.”

I thought so too. But a new worry plagued me. If Theo wasn’t in Rhyss as suspected, where was he? And why had Jones and Rusk been gone so long?

At the scheduled time the following week, I received an air message from Airmaster Gold, the Councilmember overseeing the diplomatic efforts in Rhyss. “The grass is so green here!” the message began, and I breathed a sigh of relief. That was our code sentence for “everything is fine.”

Liz said the trip had drained her, but that she was looking forward to beginning her duties the next morning. She would be reporting to me every third evening, and I would take her notes and present them to my Council for consideration. The Unmanifested internships had been staggered, and Liz was on one of the last rotations. She wouldn’t return until the middle of November, and I could only imagine that trip across the icy plains.

Gabby would present our notes to Davison himself. I didn’t know exactly what he would be doing with the data or findings, but I found I didn’t care.

I wrote Liz’s complete message on a clean page in my Council folder, a smile beaming across my face.
I didn’t care
what Davison would do with the Unmanifested internship data. It
wasn’t my problem.

The release I felt reminded me of being in the dungeon with Felix and realizing I didn’t have to care the weight of hatred and fury. Just like then, I knew now that I didn’t have to bear burdens that weren’t mine to carry.

I couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning so I could tell Airmaster Rusk. I felt lighter on the way to Gabby’s room. I’d given up the pretense of waiting for her to fall asleep. I didn’t even check in my room anymore to see if Cat was there. I wanted to sleep on Gabby’s couch, and she had a blanket and a pillow already out when I arrived.

She wasn’t there, but I felt better simply being in her apartment. It smelled like her, like smoke and the faint whiff of honey. She loved to bring bread back after dinner, laden with butter and honey. She’d told me she never got enough to eat in Crylon, and would often steal burnt bread that had fallen out of the bakeware during service.

She found me on her balcony, which was much larger than the one connected to the living room. “Enjoying the view?” she asked. Her balcony faced the ocean, and I could just make out the thin ribbon of water.

I turned to face her. “I am now.” A smile crept across my face at the sight of her tight tank top. “Too hot outside?”

She crossed her arms, which only added to the volume of her chest. “I’m always too hot.” She turned away and entered her bedroom. She pulled a sweatshirt on, much to my dismay.

“Sorry,” I said. “That isn’t how I want things to be between us.” She was the only thing left on my list. I’d given up my guilt, given away my anger and hatred, given back the responsibilities I didn’t need to carry.