Wind Warrior (12 page)

Even if it made sense, Xander didn’t believe
that explanation. From the first moment he had looked into her
eyes, he knew that she was someone unique. To lose her meant to
lose his heart forever. He knew that’s why he took her betrayal so
badly. Before him was a woman he wasn’t sure he wanted to live
without, even after knowing her for only a week. Yet her first
instinct when they were alone was to try to burn him, to kill him,
so that her kind could claim their rightful place as the prime
element.

It all sounded so crazy in his mind.
Strangely, the thought that he had a deep spiritual connection with
Sammy was the least crazy thing in his life. The fact that he so
openly thought in terms of ‘prime elements’ and ‘wind fueling fire’
was why he was concerned for his sanity. Never mind the fact that
he was currently flying through the air at an insane speed, all
thanks to the special powers of his geriatric grandfather.

He hadn’t been happy in school, but it had
been a way to put off planning for his future. Now, he would have
given anything to go back to being the oblivious college student,
dating an annoying sorority girl, and hanging out with his geeky
best friend.

Thinking of Sean made him almost as sad as
thinking of his parents. At least his parents would understand why
he had to leave. For Sean, Xander would just be there one day and
be gone the next. He’d hear the stories about a wildfire in the
city park and the rumors of a tornado touching down and he’d make
assumptions, but never really know the truth.

His grandfather tapped him on the shoulder,
pulling him from his revelry. He pointed below them, where the
cloud cover had cleared and the crystal blue ocean sparkled in the
moonlight. He knew the ocean was over six hundred miles away from
White Halls and wondered again just how fast they were flying.

Xander wanted to ask where they were going
but knew the attempt was futile. He would have to be patient, which
clearly wasn’t one of his strongest attributes.

He wasn’t entirely sure if he fell asleep—or
if his mind just began daydreaming to pass the time during the long
flight—but Xander was startled by another impatient tap on his
arm.

He followed his grandfather’s gaze out ahead
of their flight path and his eyes widened in awe and fear.

From the depths of the ocean, a massive
waterspout sprang high into the air. The swirling water was a
cyclone formed over the ocean, sucking up the salty water into a
funnel reaching above the clouds. The power of the waterspout was
remarkable and stole his breath. Had Xander ever bothered with a
bucket list, he would certainly have been able to mark this
experience from the list.

He expected that they would fly past and
continue on the way to their destination. When his grandfather
didn’t veer away from the mile-wide waterspout, Xander began
tapping his shoulder impatiently. His grandfather brushed away his
impertinent complaining and continued forward.

Xander’s tapping quickly became a fervent
shaking, against which his grandfather lashed out and knocked his
hand aside.

The pair sped up as they approached the edge
of the cyclone. Xander could smell the salty air mixed with an
aromatic scent of fresh fish. The sea spray from the waterspout
coated his face and soaked his clothes as they flew even closer. A
much louder and more violent roar of the devastating swirling waves
replaced the roar in his ears from flying—a sound to which he had
grown accustomed.

Xander screamed despite himself as the duo
crashed into the wave. He expected to be buffeted by the spinning
water but was pleasantly surprised when he wasn’t. Daring to open
the eyes he hadn’t even realized he closed, Xander saw a small
bubble of air surrounding them as they passed through the water
unfettered.

The trip through the cyclone was much
quicker than Xander would have estimated. They emerged into the eye
of the storm, a pillar of still air that opened to an incredible
view of the stars above. The sound of the waterspout was greatly
diminished in the eye as was the torrential winds.

The pair slowed considerable in the eye and
began drifting downward. Xander stole a glance past his descending
feet and was stunned by what rose to meet them.

In the eye of the waterspout, hovering above
the choppy sea waves, an island floated in the air. The surface of
the island was unnaturally flat and a giant marble keep rested on
its top. Large pillars rose up to meet sloping rooftops. Ornate
steps led down to flowering gardens. Mosaics were intricately
designed into the walkways connecting the multitude of outlying
buildings.

As they touched down in the center courtyard
of the keep, a group of men and women emerged from the buildings to
meet them. They were all similarly dressed in white shirts, pants,
and sandals that reminded Xander reminiscently of a
modernized-ancient Greek culture.

None of the men and women in the group was
younger than their mid-forties. For once, Xander felt horribly out
of place, like a volunteer in an old folk’s home during Bingo
night.

He smiled sheepishly and waved to them as
they approached.

“
Hi,” he said and was
surprised that he could hear himself within the waterspout. He had
no doubt that this remarkable feat was their doing.

The gathered group smiled broadly at him,
though Xander suspected most of their affection was directed toward
his grandfather. Their gazes told of a great reverence to the old
man.

“
Everyone, I’d like you to
meet my grandson and the newest Wind Warrior, Xander
Sirocco.”

His grandfather turned toward Xander with a
more confident smile than he remembered seeing on the elder man
before.

“
Xander, I’d like to
introduce you to your aunts and uncles. They’re going to teach you
how to be a legend.”

Near the foothills of the Rocky Mountains,
somewhere outside Los Angeles, California, a small crevice led deep
into the earth. No wider than a man, the small chasm belched soot
and foul-smelling sulfur into the air.

Residents who lived nearby had complained to
environmental organizations when the rift appeared a few months
earlier but no one had yet been able to make it far inside. The
heat within the crevice was intense. The residents were told that
it was probably a result of tectonic shifting along a fault line
and that it was a flume leading to an underground magma pocket.

The chasm led further into the earth than
the environmental organizations believed. Beyond the entrance of
the cavern was a dizzying series of natural and unnatural caverns
leading deep into the earth. Natural lava tubes merged into carved
stone tunnels that transitioned into rough chambers filled with a
multitude of stalagmites and stalactites.

Beyond the furthest of these expansive
chambers, the passages all became worked stone. Like the story of
all roads leading to Rome, the carven passages all led to a massive
central chamber. In its depths, lava flowed freely in a blistering
swirl that caused the air throughout the rounded room to dance in
the heat.

Hovering above the lava, suspended by a
latticework of catwalks and support pillars, a gargantuan dark
stone castle rose from its charred island.

Pale-skinned men and women, the only color
on their skin coming from the ashy soot that settled on their
bodies, crossed the catwalks and entered the castle.

In the heart of the castle stood an obsidian
throne, on which sat Lord Balor. The tall man leaned back against
the chair, his dark hair cascading over his shoulders in waves. His
body was draped in crimson and black clothes that clung to him in
the oppressive heat. His body was soaked in sweat, adding to his
sour disposition.

A Fire Warrior stepped through the
throne-room doors and hurried to the Lord’s side. Leaning close, he
whispered into Lord Balor’s ear.

“
My lord, Lady Sammy and
her warriors have returned from their mission.”

“
And?” he asked, his voice
echoing in the long chamber.

The warrior shook his head. Lord Balor
dismissed him with a wave before clenching the arms of his chair in
anger.

“
Send her in,” he ordered.
The warrior with whom he’d been speaking before the messenger
interrupted them stepped to Lord Balor’s side.

Sammy entered with a small entourage of Fire
Warriors behind her. Her silky dress from the spring formal was
gone, replaced by black leather pants and half-jacket. A similarly
short shirt clung to her body beneath the jacket, exposing her
midriff.

The group approached the throne and stopped
at the base of the steps. As a group, they bowed before their
Lord.

“
We’ve returned, Lord
Balor,” Sammy said. Her nervousness was evident in her
tone.

She raised her head and looked at the pair
of intimidating Fire Warriors on the raised throne dais. Lord Balor
towered over the other Fire Warriors. His size and fighting prowess
combined to solidify his place as Lord over their offshoot
clan.

Sammy knew that not all the Fire Caste
agreed with Lord Balor’s plans to assassinate the remaining Wind
Warriors but none dared speak against him for fear a violent
reprisal.

The man beside Lord Balor lacked the
physical stature but scared her far worse. General Abraxas was
virtually unparalleled in his fighting skill and ruthlessness in
battle. Their clan had already lost a number of Fire Warriors just
because of Abraxas’ displeasure.

“
Did you succeed in
locating the new Wind Warrior?” Lord Balor asked. Sammy knew he was
leading her into a verbal trap but she dared not defy him or lie to
him.

“
We did, my
Lord.”

“
And is he dead?” The words
were laced with a barely veiled threat.

“
N-no, my Lord,” Sammy
stuttered. She closed her eyes and tensed in anticipation of his
retribution. “But I have left men in his town. We will
succeed…”

Lord Balor opened his hand and a jet of
searing white flame flew from his palm. The fire engulfed the Fire
Warrior kneeling beside Sammy. The man screamed in anguish but the
yell was short-lived. The heat from the flame turned him to ash
almost instantaneously.

Sammy felt the waves of heat rolling over
her and felt her hair threaten to ignite from the onslaught. She
clenched her jaw tightly and bore the pain the heat caused on her
exposed flesh.

When the punishment was done and the warrior
burned to black ash, Lord Balor dismissed the flame.

“
I won’t accept failure,”
he stated angrily. “Were it not for the fact that you are my
daughter, it would have been you I burned today.”

Sammy nodded. “Yes… Father.”

Lord Balor waved his hand and dismissed the
rest of the Fire Warriors. “I wish to speak to my daughter
alone.”

Sammy looked up as the booted feet of the
other warriors quickly retreated from the chamber. General Abraxas
still stood at his place of honor beside her father.

“
Tell me of this new Wind
Warrior.”

She swallowed hard, her throat parched from
the heat. As much as she loathed lying to her father for fear of
his reprisal, she knew she couldn’t tell him the whole truth. She
couldn’t tell him that she had thought about him every night since
meeting him. She couldn’t tell him that she hated herself for
betraying him. She couldn’t tell him that she had cried herself to
sleep that night after the spring formal and about how she longed
to run back to him that very night and apologize profusely.

Sammy had never been anything other than a
brashly independent woman but the connection she felt with Xander
was far beyond anything she understood.