ICE (The Benders Series) (22 page)

Realizing his error, the man approached her bed again. Kenna, of course, had turned herself away from him.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his teeth clenched. “You know that I hope as much you do that he is still alive. The last thing I need is more blood on my hands.”

Kenna felt herself going nauseous as she let her head fall backward onto the bed. “He came in after me Dad,” Kenna whispered. “He came in after me, into the fire, knowing that he most likely wouldn’t even make it out. He really loved me.”

Her father sighed as he chose his next words as carefully as possible. “I know he had strong feelings for you, Kenna. But you have to know that I love you too and so does your mother. We want what’s best for you,” he replied as he affectionately touched her arm.

“That’s funny,” Kenna sniffled as she flinched her arm away, “because I didn’t see you running in after me. Where were you? How did you not hear Ray break in?”

Taking another exhale, he quickly admitted, “He didn’t break in. I let him in.”

“You let him in?!” he almost screamed back.

“Kenna, he called me. He said he needed a place to stay for the night. I didn’t think anything of it,” he explained swiftly.

“And then what? You just let him kidnap me? I thought you were a way better fighter than your brother,” she mocked, finding that it was becoming increasingly easy to blame her father for all of the misfortune.

“No, Kenna,” he said quickly. “Please, just let me finish.” The girl glared sharply at him but kept her mouth shut.  “He called me late that night and said he needed a place to stay, just overnight until his car got fixed. I didn’t think anything of it. I waited until he arrived and I opened the door for him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But the moment I had my back turned, a cold, wet rag came over my face from behind. I passed out immediately. When I woke up, I knew something was wrong. I ran upstairs, and you were gone. I called the police and went out searching myself. Eventually, I got a call that you had been brought to the hospital and that there had been a house fire. They said they’d do an investigation, but I already had a good idea about what had transpired.”

“How could he do that? How could Ray do something like that?” Kenna interrogated as he finished his monologue.

Her father shook his head before opening his mouth to answer. “I suppose it was my fault. When I eventually left the flame bending community, I left him with my bad reputation. This was his way of getting back at me and proving himself I’m sure. Only it cost him his life.”

“And Jon’s and probably so many more,” Kenna proclaimed as her anger began to settle just slightly. Her eyes had met her father’s, and she could see the sadness and guilt glistening in them for all to see. “He said that there would be more attacks that night, that many full blooded ice benders were made targets.”

He nodded slowly. “Then I hope the ice benders were able to defend themselves,” he acknowledged. “Flame benders can be vile and ruthless, but ice benders certainly hold their own. I thought Jon might have been able to take me on if I’m totally honest.”

Kenna smiled just slightly. “He was sure that he could take you.”

There was a brief silence before her father spoke again. “Well I suppose I should call your mom and tell her that you are awake,” he said as he strode across the room to retrieve the device.

“I’m sure she’s not that worried,” Kenna added under her breath.

“You underestimate that woman. She hopped on the first flight up here and has been at your bedside just as much as I have. She just went over to our place to clean up a bit. Sometimes she needs to keep busy to distract herself,” her father clarified as he dialed a number.

Kenna waited until he finished the brief conversation before asking her question. “So you really love Mom?”

“Always will,” he said as he placed his phone back on the chair where it previously sat. “I wish I could have been better for her and for you. But she’s happy now, and I’m not going to mess that up for her. She deserves to be happy.”

“And you don’t?” she quickly inquired.

“I’m happy that I have you and get to spend the time with you that I do. I’m happy that I’ve changed and am able to be a bigger part of your life than I was before,” he answered without thought. “That said, do I
deserve
to be happy? Probably not.”

Kenna wasn’t sure how to respond to such a statement so did her best to change the subject and keep the conversation light until her mother arrived fifteen minutes later.

The girl didn’t know how to feel when she finally saw the woman. She’d spent years loathing her for something she’d never done, and years torturing her for an infidelity that never occurred.

But when her mother wrapped her arms around her, Kenna knew that the love her mother felt for her could not be swayed, and she felt the guilt wash away from her. Unfortunately and as much as she wished she linger in the thought of a repaired relationship with her mother, there was only one person on her mind.

Jon Colewell.

And if he could possibly be alive.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Days.

Days passed. And those days turned into weeks. And those weeks turned into months.

Kenna had stayed in Minnesota after finally convincing her mother that it was best.

Kenna asked her father every morning and every night if he’d heard any news. And she’d even sometimes ask in the afternoon. But his response was always the same.

Nothing.

Neither she nor her father had any idea as to what had become of the Colewells.

Though, in her mind, Jon was dead, it was impossible for her to move on without knowing for sure. And as sick as it sounded to her, somehow not knowing was better. At least now, even if it was in her imagination, she could hold on to something, hold on to whatever little childish hopes she had of his survival or even his return.

She avoided grieving at whatever cost. She’d gone into denial to the point that she pretended that that day had never happened, that the awful handprint scar on her leg was received when she was too young to remember, that Jon was simple off learning how to control his powers, that her uncle had actually died in some tragic accident. Kenna did her best to make the senseless make sense.

Part of the denial included forgiving her father. As far as she was concerned, he’d never done anything wrong, he’d never murdered ice benders, he’d never broken her mother’s heart, he’d never put her and Jon in danger with his continued friendship with her uncle. He was crystal clean.

Unfortunately for Kenna, this was a reality that she could only play in for so long.

Whether she’d admit it or not, she was sad. She kept seeing that final image of Jon in her head as her dreams replayed each detail of that night. And he wasn’t breathing. She knew he wasn’t breathing. Bryce knew he wasn’t breathing.

Although she may have been wrong about the flame benders defeating the ice benders, it was difficult to doubt Jon’s death. It was almost impossible to deny what her heart knew was the truth.

She tried the denial. She tried being angry. But nothing helped, and nothing moved her forward.

Kenna felt stuck. She felt lonely and trapped and depressed. She didn’t know how to move on or how to accept where fate had taken her.

Her heart was holding on. And she didn’t know how to let go.

Kenna needed answers, but knew no way to retrieve them.

Finally, Kenna brought herself to visit the park, the place where she and Jon had spent most of their time together. If there was a chance at closure, she knew that the park would be the place to get it.

She went to her mirror. It was July. She was dressed in a casual black tank top and dark blue jean shorts. Where once sat a happy smile, her lips were straight and sad. Where once were twinkling eyes, were dark, gloomy brown holes. Her once sturdy figure seemed more frail and weak, and her long hair had gone dry and lifeless.

But Kenna supposed it was fitting. Feeling depressed and looking depressed would obviously go hand in hand in this case.

With a miserable sigh, she left the bathroom and exited the house. Walking slowly with her shoulders hunched and an overall downtrodden appearance, she made her way to the park.

When she arrived, she couldn’t help but take a moment to stare. She remembered where the ice rink had been, where she’d first seen Jon and where he’d first kissed her. She remembered their first date and his refusal to hold her hand. She remembered his truck and how this was a place that it would so frequently pull up.

She sighed another miserable sigh. The summer had come, and this once-winter-wonderland seemed so dead and different.

She looked beyond the playground and the open spaces of where the hockey rink once sat and saw the several hiking trails that she and Jon had taken. Without thought, Kenna floated to the hiking trails and continued on her gloomy march toward where she hoped she might find closure.

And as she walked, Kenna knew where her feet might take her. In a matter of a few minutes, she’d reached her destination.

She’d reached the old log.

She sat there.

Kenna ran her hands across the log where they’d shared so many memories. She could recall the moments of his rage and the moments he shared with her the secrets of how he’d been conceived. She remembered the rose and all the magic he’d shown her when he revealed the truth of his powers. Kenna even remembered each of their perfect and apparently slightly painful kisses that they’d shared in this small and private clearing.

She took a deep breath and prayed that some answers might come.  And then she heard a faint crackling, and suddenly the bark that clung to the old log broke off and forced her to fall backward over the decrepit tree.

And that was answer enough.

He was gone.

It was over.

There was nothing to hold onto.

Jon Colewell was dead.

EPILOGUE

“Jon Colewell? I knew your mother well.”

The boy didn’t care to respond to the statement. He didn’t want to think about his mother. He didn’t want to think at all.

Several days after the ambush, Jon had come to arrive at the place he’d now call home. On the very northern edge of the great Canadian pines and just touching the beginnings of the arctic tundra sat the academy that Jon was already beginning to feel a slight hostility toward.

Just moments ago, after arriving by means of a rather extended dog sled ride, Jon had set his first steps onto the icy foyer of what he had to assume was a largest and most meticulous ice fortress in existence. Almost immediately he was swept away from his brothers and into the hands of the academy elites, most notably, the Grand Master, who was speaking to him now as he led the Colewell on a quite intimate tour.

Eventually, Jon nodded his head to indicate that the man should continue on with the conversation.

“I think you’ll find that you quite belong here. It has to be one of the most spectacular places on the planet,” the Grand Master boasted as he waved his arm to show that Jon should follow.  The man was clad in light blue robes that were half-sleeved and dangling down near his ankles. Apparently such robes indicated that he sat on top of the hierarchy of ice elementalists.  Or at least that’s what Jon assumed. “As you can see, this is the entry hall. Not much here. A few sculptures and benches. I suppose not a bad place to relax and enjoy the view.”

And quite a view it was. The academy’s entrance faced an open area where one had a perfect view of the sky and all its wintry majesty. The rest of the school was half hidden in the vast pine trees that covered this part of the country. It wasn’t a place that anyone would just happen upon. It was well hidden, its ice almost crystal clear, and its magical appearance somehow almost completely concealed by its matching of the tundra’s landscape.

“But moving along, through these giant doors here, you will come to the Grand Hall. Lots of lounging, sofas, and chairs. There is a lounging area in each of the houses as well,” he explained as he continued to march forward.

“Houses?” Jon interrupted as he glanced around the giant ice room.

“Yes. Or dorms of sorts. Over to your right is the House of Fulls. As a full blooded elementalist, that is where you will make yourself home,” he paused as he pointed to a large building that was connected to the Gran Hall. “And to the left if the House of Halfs. That is where your three brothers will be living. You should be thankful. There are only forty-three students in House of Fulls. Your rooms are much more spacious. Much more private.”

Jon could only nod as his guide continued to walk through the grand room and into a large dining area.

“These tables here are for eating between classes. Instructors and mentors eat first. The full bloods usually sit with their mentor. And speaking of a mentor, you should meet yours!”

Again he nodded as he studied the dining halls. In it sat rows of solid, wooden tables and chairs. They were smooth and detailed as Jon managed to run his hand along the back of one of the many dining chairs.

Before Jon had a chance to further examine the room, he was pulled through several halls, up several staircases, and into a completely different area of the academy.

“This is the training area,” the man said with an unusual glint in his eyes. Jon looked ahead through a large ice window to see several students practicing their bending skills in the room below. “This is where the magic happens.” Jon didn’t know how to describe the way the Grand Master spoke as he rubbed his fingers together. But if he could find a word for it, sinister might have fit. “And here comes your mentor now!”

Walking toward them from the opposite end of the hall was a tall, pale, dark-haired man.

There was something very familiar about the man that Jon could not put his finger on.

As they came face to face, the Colewell grew uneasy and decided that whatever was familiar about the man, was not a good familiar.

“Ah, so you’re Jon,” the man boasted with an arrogant, white smile spread malevolently across his face. “It’s good to finally meet you. Welcome to Glicer.”