Mark of Four (3 page)

Alayne sighed. “It was fine,” she heard herself say. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

S
hadow-Casters chased
Alayne through her dreams that night, brandishing unseen weapons, hurling Casts as she spun to the right, to the left, and back again, panting, panting, running in slow-motion as they gained ground.

Relief flooded her as she blinked at the pearly moist morning, the familiar street outside her window empty of menacing figures. Adrenaline-laced butterflies stirred inside her as she thought of her assessment.

Alayne shook off her nightmares, shoving back her covers and pulling on shorts and a t-shirt. She stared into her oval mirror as she wound her waist-length hair into her normal braid and shook her head. Assessment was a bigger deal than shorts and a t-shirt.

She stripped off her clothes, returning to her closet again. With more thought this time, she selected a pair of black leggings and a long, emerald green top, belting the shirt with a wide black belt. She slid her feet into black strappy platforms and smiled nervously at her reflection. She squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her fingers. “Clayborne, not Andova,” she breathed.

After breakfast, Alayne and her parents would be boating down the main river that threaded through the heart of Skyden for the assessment. She wondered what they would say if she told them what had happened in the marketplace the evening before. Her mom would likely put her foot down and say she couldn’t go. Alayne shrugged uncomfortably. She didn’t like keeping secrets from her parents, but she was equally determined that her mother wouldn’t keep her from her Elemental education because of unspecified dark fears. If she mentioned the marketplace attack, she would be confined to the house. Her mouth twisted.
They’d never let me out.

Of course, she planned to be careful. Her parents worried about her. The Elemental Alliance had taken care of that. Even though the street was void of suspicious-looking Shadow-Casters disguised as pedestrians, that would make no difference to her parents. If Simeon Malachi could Shadow-Cast a bench full of black-robed Justices in his all-consuming search for the Vale, she, a recent Basic School graduate, wouldn’t present much of a challenge. But she couldn’t tell her parents that. She could see the worry pooling in their eyes anytime she left their sight.

Alayne squared her shoulders. This would most likely be the last day she had with her parents for a while, and she was determined to stay positive.

She walked into the kitchen. “Mm, smells good, Mom.” Alayne looked over her mother’s shoulder as Wynn flipped the last hash brown patty onto a serving platter and carried it to the table where the bacon, eggs, and grits already steamed, fragrant and mouth-watering.

“Sit and eat then.” Wynn raised her voice. “Bryan, breakfast!”

“It’s about time.” Alayne’s father hurried through the door. “Thanks, Wynn.” He dropped into his chair and scooped a hash brown patty onto his plate. “We have a present for you, Layne.”

Alayne swallowed the bite of salty bacon she’d just crunched. “You do? For what?”

Wynn sat at her place and forced a smile. “What do you think? A going away present.”

Alayne tugged the water element from her glass across her plate and rinsed her fingers, letting the moisture evaporate into the air. “Let me see!”

Bryan raised an eyebrow as he watched the moisture flow upward. “You really shouldn’t do that; you’re not even assessed yet.”

Wynn hurried to the window, anxiously peering through the glass to the street outside. “Yes, Alayne, you must be careful. You never know who might be watching, and since the news yesterday, I think that—”

“Skies, Mom, haven’t you worried enough? I’m fine. We’re fine. We’re in our house. There are no Shadow-Casters anywhere in the vicinity. It was just a simple element twist. That’s all. Can you let it go?” Alayne’s barrage of statements brought a flush to her mother’s pale cheeks.

Nevertheless, Wynn’s nervous fingers pulled the curtains shut before she returned to her seat. “I’m just being careful, that’s all, Alayne.”

Alayne’s mouth tightened. She took a deep breath, renewing her determination to stay positive. She leaned back in her chair and looked at her dad. “Can I guess what the present is?”

“Knock yourself out.” Bryan shoved an entire stick of bacon in his mouth and crunched with obvious enjoyment.

Alayne pulled the grits close and plopped a glob onto her plate. “New running shoes?”

“Your mother wouldn’t tell me your foot size. But good guess.” Bryan took a swallow of juice. “Guess again.”

“A paper-journal?” Alayne shot a sly glance at her mother. “Just because I know Mom would want to read it if she got a chance.”

Wynn’s cheeks pinked. “I would not snoop in your personal stuff, Alayne.”

“Kidding, Mom.”

Bryan shook his head. “Wrong anyway. Last guess.”

“A dog?” Alayne had pleaded for a dog for years.

Wynn threw her hands in the air. “Where would we keep a dog, Alayne? You couldn’t take it with you to school, and we certainly wouldn’t want one here.”

“It would only be for the four years of school.”

“I hope you’re not serious.” Wynn eyed her daughter as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Bryan, go get Layne’s gifts.”

“Gifts? As in more than one?” Alayne asked as Bryan pushed himself up from the table and disappeared into the other room. When he returned, he carried two small packages wrapped in brown paper and taped shut.

“Here you are, Bug.” He handed them to Alayne, clearing his throat noisily. “We hope you like them.”

Heaviness descended on the table, noticeable in her parents’ expressions. Alayne tried to lighten the mood. “
Two
presents, you guys. You’re going to break the bank.” She picked up the small package first. The tape ripped under her fingernails, and she tore the paper open.

It was a tiny ring box. She lifted the lid and gasped. An ornate silver ring, its metal twisted into intricate detail, sparkled even in the dim light of the room. Alayne touched it. “It’s beautiful. Thanks.”

Bryan plucked it from the box. He grasped Alayne’s hand in his and slid the ring onto the middle finger of her right hand. “Perfect fit.” He smiled at Wynn. “You were worried about that.” He let go of Alayne’s hand, and she held it close to inspect it. “It was your Grandmother Keene’s. It’s supposed to help its wearer recognize true evil; it gets hot when someone intends to harm you.”

“Really?” Alayne was dazzled by the multitude of sparkles that glinted from the ring.

Wynn smiled. “Well, that’s what she always said. I think it’s just a pretty ring, and I hope you’ll take good care of it.”

“Of course.” Alayne held up her hand to admire it better. “Thanks, guys. It’s beautiful.”

She turned her attention to the second package and snapped her fingernails through the tape. As she pushed the paper out of the way, she smoothed her thumb over a small wooden plaque. Across the top in all capitals, the word “ELEMENTAL” was carved in beautiful calligraphy.

An empty gold placard decorated the wood below the word, and beneath the placard, Alayne’s full name and a picture of her family etched the wood. Bryan and Wynn’s captured faces grinned behind a skinny sixteen-year-old Alayne.

She touched the calligraphy with her fingertips. “Wow, this is nice, Mom and Dad. Thanks. But—what’s it for?”

“It’s your ticket into an Elemental instructional facility,” Bryan said.

“Clayborne, with any luck.” Alayne smoothed her hand over the wood grain, the sudden lump in her throat choking her words. “Thanks, guys. This means a lot.”

Wynn’s nearly inaudible sigh hid behind her fragile cup of tea. “Hurry along, Layne. We’ll be late for your assessment.”

A
layne had
vague ideas of how the earth had operated before the Great Deluge, or GD, had nearly destroyed it over two hundred years ago. Mr. Conroy, her Basic School history teacher, had lectured at length about it. Continents had been divided into countries—where Alayne lived had at one time been the eastern ridges of the United States of America. Since the Great Deluge, however, elements had rearranged and separated the major land masses so no Continent retained the exact same geographical—or political—structure.

The people who had made it to high ground were the survivors. Everyone else had been washed away. Spires became the normal skyline decoration; fear of rising water made tall structures preferable.

The world’s first awareness of Elementals, humans with the power to manipulate elements with an ability ungoverned by any known rules of science or logic, had come when four of them, drunk with their newly discovered talents, nearly destroyed the earth in the Great Deluge. Power hungry, they had ripped the world apart in their quest for supremacy over those around them. Volcanoes had erupted, earthquakes had split open the earth, geysers had spewed out boiling water. Tsunamis and tidal waves had wiped out cities miles from the coast; tornadoes and landslides and avalanches had rocked CommonEarth. The world had shuddered under their onslaught.

Eventually, the four power-hungry Elementals had ended up destroying each other, but their legacy had shifted society until it depended on Elementals for even the most basic things: heating systems, water filtration networks, landscaping, air purifiers. Elementals were required to follow strict laws about using their powers these days. The memory of the fate of the four had never been forgotten.

Served them right,
Alayne thought as she followed her parents onto the boat dock two blocks from their house. Boats were a common form of transportation as a result of the Deluge. Even in the intervening two centuries since the destruction, the water table had never returned to its original level.

Alayne’s dad carried one of her bags; the other one weighed down her arm. She squinted at the sunlit water and hitched her bag higher on her hip.
The Shadow-Casters could learn from the four who started the Deluge. Power-hungry people always get what they deserve.

The water taxi rested in the river, rocking gently in the minimal current. The captain stood on the dock as he took the tickets for four other individuals before he grasped the three tickets Wynn offered him.

As she passed the captain, Alayne wondered fleetingly if he had received his education at Clayborne or Andova, and if he had dreaded his assessment, too. He was a Water-Wielder, of course. Since the High Court had banned electricity and other forms of energy in favor of the much safer and more efficient element twists, it was almost impossible for a Natural Human to gain a job that required elements to engineer it.

Captains were almost always Water-Wielders. Pilots for the shuttles that transported thousands over the City Centre every day were almost certainly Air-Masters. Air-Masters also drove the airbuses that clogged roadways. She’d seen them yelling out their windows at each other as they were stuck in traffic jams, sometimes layered five, six airbuses high.

Alayne preferred boat travel, but she’d never been inside a shuttle before. Today would be her first time. She only wondered if it would carry her to Clayborne or Andova. A spark of panic sizzled in her stomach. What if they sent her to Andova?

“Alayne,” Wynn hissed. “Pull your hood up higher. Anyone would be able to recognize you out here; it’s hanging half off your head.” Wynn gave her own jacket hood a tug.

“Mom, more people’ll be watching us
because
we’re the only ones wearing hoods on a sunny, hot morning.”

“Just do as I say,” Wynn commanded in an undertone as they took their seats in the back row of the water taxi.

Alayne dumped her bag on the ground by her feet and adjusted her hood. Her mother was making it more and more difficult to part on good terms. Wynn’s fear shadowed the day’s brilliant sunshine and any anticipation Alayne felt about her upcoming assessment.

Alayne rested against her father’s shoulder, numbness creeping in. Part of her wished to turn the boat and go back to the safety and comfort of home. But then she would be just like her mother. She focused on the captain’s blue-uniformed back and the near-silence of the craft as it cut through the water currents.

The City Centre rose around the boat, spire-like buildings stretching into the clouds. Alayne had only been in the heart of the City Centre a handful of times. She felt no taller than an ant on the pavement.

The boat stopped at the dock, rocking as Alayne and her parents stepped onto the wood planks. The captain tipped his hat and shut the half-door, announcing his next stop to the remaining passengers. He steered the boat downriver, disappearing between the tall buildings.

“I guess my career choices are limited to something I can do with water.” Alayne broke the silence.

“Well, for specialized jobs, I suppose.” Bryan shrugged. “There’re jobs where you wouldn’t need element bending, though it could be a
part
of your job. Teaching or politics.”

“Great.” Alayne rolled her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to be a Justice.”

Bryan picked up both of Alayne’s bags and said seriously, “While you’ve got your sights set so high, you should just try for Leader.”

“Enough, you two,” Wynn hushed them. “Let’s take one day at a time, shall we?”

They walked through crowds that clogged the city streets, heading for a huge silver spire that dwarfed most of the others in the city.

Alayne followed her parents across the cobblestones toward the courtyard entrance, taking the steps through the archway in a single bound. The spire’s entrance arched above them, with “Student Assessments” carved in the marble facade above the doors.

Alayne took a deep breath and opened the glass doors. Her jaw dropped. The lobby had no roof, or none that she could see. She gazed at the distant clouds above and then back at the round lobby.

Bryan steered them to a row of booths. An attendant sat behind each one, filing lists of names that scrolled through the air, shot upward by an MIU at each desk.

A young lady with bright red curls smiled at Bryan. She waved, and the list of names disappeared. “How can I help you today, sir?”

“My daughter is here for her assessment.”

“Ah, yes, this way, please.” She motioned to an archway behind her. Her heels echoed on the marble floor as she led the way.