Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5) (11 page)

“What? 
No!”

“Chase
probably hung himself.”  Alder theorized.  He began to absently decorate the
miniature Christmas tree on the desk closest to him with stolen paperclips. 
“Like I said, it was just a matter of time for somebody that far gone.  What
does Chason have to live for now that Parald is dead and Lansing is running the
Reprisal?”  He frowned.  “Hey, we can die from hanging, right?”

Is
that what the new vision meant?  Had Chason killed himself?  He knew the boy
had
considered
it, but Raiden had put so much
effort
into keeping
him alive.  Besides, he’d
seen
Mara returned to Chason.

Somehow.

That
vision had been the first of many changes he’d been sensing recently, but it
had felt like something
good
.  A positive change.  Something that would
help Chason heal.  And it had been so
clear
.  It
had
to come to
pass, didn’t it?  What if the future was already doomed, because he’d
interpreted everything wrong and Chason was gone?

Oh
God, what would happen to Fee?

“He’s
not dead.”  Sullivan scoffed as if reading Raiden’s rapidly escalating
thoughts.  “Jesus, calm down.  One of your freak friends came to pick Hickok up
a few hours ago.  A guy in Union Jack Converse and dressed like a roadie for
the Ramones.  Zach or something.”

Alder’s
head came around with a snap.  “Zakkery?  Zakkery, of the Smoke House was here? 
Shit, Kingu’s looking for that guy!  That means the whole
family’s
looking for him.  How could you let him get away, Sullivan?”

“Huh?”

The
Fire Phases probably hadn’t even explained to Sullivan that he was “family”
yet, but that didn’t stop Alder from scowling at the baffled human like this
was all his fault.  “You know he stole Kingu’s necklace, right?”

Sullivan
looked defensive.  “Well, if you don’t report a theft, how am I supposed to
know about it?  And who the hell is Kingu?  That name isn’t on any of my watch
lists.”

“You’re
keeping lists on us?”  That distracted Alder from his irritation.  “Am I on
any?”

“You
have your own
folder.
”

Alder
seemed pleased about that.  “Oh.  Okay then.  It’s not
totally
your
fault you let Zakkery escape, I guess.  You can’t be expected to know as much
as a
real
Fire Phase, yet.  You’re just a human.  Don’t worry.  I’ll
find Zakk
and
our necklace.”

“What
an incredible load off my mind.”  Sullivan deadpanned.

“I
know.”  Alder gave him a patronizing nod.  “Anyway, Kingu’s my cousin-in-law.  Or
maybe my uncle. 
Our
cousin-in-law or maybe uncle, if you wanna get
technical.”

“How
in God’s name could this Kingu guy be related to
me?
”

“Because
he’s Matched to Hope, and she’s me and Teja’s cousin.  Actually she might be my
aunt.  See Oberon, my great-grandfather, adopted Hope back in…”

Sullivan
cut him off.  “What are you
talking
about?”

“God,
you’re an idiot.”  Alder rolled his eyes and gave up on his genealogy lesson. 
“I try, but it’s like teaching geometry to a squirrel.”

Raiden
ignored them.  “Human, did you let a Smoke Phase take Chason?”

He
had no idea who Zakkery was specifically, but it didn’t matter.  He hadn’t seen
the guy in any of his visions and that wasn’t good.  He should see
all
the
important variables.  Things were changing too fast.

“Let
him?”  Sullivan repeated.  “Hey, his majesty was eager to leave with that guy.  They
had some kinda business deal in the works.”  He made a disgusted face. 
“Probably marijuana.  Damn laws say I can’t arrest people until the actually
commit
the crime.  Otherwise, I’d have locked ‘em both up preemptively.”

“A
business deal with that scumbag Zakkery?”  Alder snorted.  “You have to be Fire
Phase smart to get through any kind of ‘deal’ with that bastard.  Chase shoulda
just hung himself.”

Raiden
ignored that assessment.  A business deal?  Why would Chason go anywhere with a
Smoke Phase to negotiate a
business deal?
  Chason didn’t care about
business.  The Magnet King no longer cared about anything…

…Except
Mara.

Raiden’s
eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“You
guys gonna tell me what this is all about?”  Sullivan asked.

“Hell
no.”  Alder returned to his paperclips.  “It’s way above your head, human.”

Sullivan
sighed in a sort of resigned apathy.  “Whatever.  I’ll just wait and read about
it in your next arrest reports.  And, by the way, it’s ‘hanged,’ not ‘hung.’ 
‘Hung’” is for pictures, ‘hanged’ is for people.”

“Says
who?
”

“I
don’t know.  Books?  Teachers?  Everyone?”

“The
fuck you say.  Why would it be
hanged
?  It’s a fucking irregular verb!” 
Alder scowled, personally offended by the rules of English.  “Shit, there’s
like a million other languages that you could use around here, but
noooooooooooo. 
Your
town has to use the one that makes the least damn
sense.”

“Well,
at least you’ve picked up on the profanities quick enough.”  Sullivan
retorted.  “And feel free to
leave
my town, if you feel like the grammar
is getting too much for you.”

Raiden
ignored their bickering.

How
had everything gotten out of control?  What had changed on the timeline?  What
would cause Raiden to fail?

He
checked his aviator style watch.  A red countdown clock was spinning through
the seconds at a pitiless rate.

He
was running out of time.

Whatever
was happening, he had to fix it.

Now
.

“I
must find Chason.”  Raiden stepped back from the desk and pinned Sullivan with
a deadly look.  “If anything happens to him because you failed to ensure his
safety, the repercussions will be beyond measure.  That boy is vital to our
world.”

“Yeah. 
Sure.  Vital.”  Sullivan gave a humoring sort of nod.  “I totally picked up on
that when he was humming at the light bulb.”

Her whole
power and influence should be used to aid him in gaining ascendency over

these
lower elements of his nature….  If there is a spark of true manhood left, or
even

the memory
of true love, it will thus be rekindled.

Henry
C. Wright- “Marriage and Parentage”

The
woman who claimed to be Mara was asleep in his bed.

Chason
sat on the floor with his back against the connecting door between their bedrooms,
his legs bent at the knee and his boots flat on the ground.  He methodically
folded the note she’d given him, first in half, then in quarters, then in
eights, concentrating on lining up the edges of the page perfectly.  It was
difficult with his hands shaking so much.

Mara
is real.

The
words disappeared as the paper shrunk down in ever decreasing squares.  Only
they weren’t gone.  No matter how small he made the note, he could still see
the simple sentenced burned into his brain.

“Real.”

What
the fuck did that even mean to someone who was crazy?  Reality might as well
have a dragon in one of those adventure books he’d secretly read as a child. 
The ones with the gallant knights rescuing princesses.  The ones that his
father had banned from the library as pointless wastes of time.  You could look
at the pictures of the dragons, the same way you could sort of view “reality”
from a distance.  Frightening sure, but something long since defeated.

Only
this “reality” didn’t seem so gone.

After
he’d calmed down from their earlier confrontation, Chason had returned to
Mara’s room, panicked that she would be gone.  Delusion or imposter or…
whatever she was, he didn’t want her to go.  He’d been frantic, thinking that
she’d vanish the minute he left her alone.

But
she hadn’t.

Instead,
he’d found the woman sleeping face down beside the bed Mara died in.  She’d
pulled the linens onto the floor, as if she just couldn’t bear to lie on the mattress. 
It was only mid-afternoon, but she must have been exhausted, because she was
dressed for bed.  Her black hair had been spread to dry on the pillow and she
wore a familiar orchid nightgown, covered with a thick quilt Mara’s cousin
Tonia had made.

Chason
had let out a shaky sigh.

It
had been like a thousand other times that he’d stood in her room.  Every night
he’d check on her, at least once.  Mara had never slept beside him, but Chason
often had the overwhelming urge to see her during in the night.  He’d gotten
used to waking up and ensuring that she was still safe.

Seeing
her like that again was like going back in time.

Her
face had been turned towards the window, her hand tucked under her chin.  Mara
had always slept like that.  Long ebony lashes were swept down over her cheeks,
her lips parted in a rosy pout.  She’d looked so innocent.  So peaceful.

So
like his Match.

Chason
had just gazed at her for a long time, before it occurred to him that it was… cold. 
He didn’t really notice physical discomfort anymore, but suddenly he’d felt the
draft seeping through the stones.  It was too cold for the woman to sleep on
the floor.  Obviously, she hadn’t wanted to be in Mara’s bed, but she needed to
be moved somewhere.

Chason
had reluctantly scooped her up into his arms and got to his feet, debating
where he should put her.  The Reprisal soldiers had occupied various rooms when
they lived in the Magnetland.  Until Lansing, of the Dust House had revolted
and led them all away, anyhow.  At least one of their mattresses must’ve been semi-clean. 
But, he hadn’t liked the idea of putting her in another Phase’s bed.  It didn’t
seem… right.

There
were sofas downstairs that were long enough to sleep on.  But, the common rooms
had seemed so exposed.  What if someone came for her in the night and stole
her, again?  Every alternative he thought of was completely unacceptable.  In
the end, only one option had seemed tolerable.

Chason
had carried her into his own room.

Mara
had rarely entered his bedroom, so it didn’t feel like a betrayal of her memory
to allow this woman in there.  Besides this way he could watch her and make
sure she didn’t escape.  It really was the only logical choice.

Chason’s
room was decorated in dark grey and maroon, with a gigantic four poster bed in
the center.  It had looked like that for as long as he could remember.  Only
now it was dustier and the bed was never made.  He’d used to make the bed every
morning, even though the Magnet Fortress had employed dozens of servants.  His
father had insisted on it and it had been part of Chason’s highly organized
routine.

Structure
and discipline are the cornerstones of greatness.

More
lies he’d been raised to believe.

His
whole life had been a death march through structure and discipline and doing
pointless shit that meant
nothing
.  It just stole time from the only thing
that really mattered.

One
morning, about three weeks after Mara died, Chason had dragged himself to his feet
after a sleepless night and started to automatically make his bed…  Only to realize
that two minutes out of every day were wasted on this task.  Two minutes a day
multiplied the sixty-seven years he’d been Matched with Mara was nearly 50,000
minutes.  That was thirty-four days.  More than a month.

A
month of time he
could’ve
spent with his Match, but
didn’t
because he’d been making his fucking bed for no fucking reason, at all.

The
idea of that much wasted time had left him in a state of near catatonia for
days.  Since then, he took grim satisfaction in leaving all the blankets in a
wrinkled disarray.  If he’d been able to summon the interest, he would have
destroyed everything in the once neat and tidy room, just because he hated any
reminders of his old life.

The
woman had made a small sound as he carried her towards the bed.  Black eyes
fluttered open in distress, as if she hadn’t been sure what was happening.  He’d
felt her preparing to start struggling against his hold.

“It’s
alright.”  He’d murmured, although he had no idea why he was comforting her. 
“I have you.”

He’d
felt the tension leave her body at the sound of his voice.  “Chason.”  She’d
buried her head against his shoulder and exhaled heavily.  “I thought that…” 
Her arms came up to grip his neck and he’d felt her shivering.  “I just had
this flash of someone…
taking
me somewhere and I couldn’t scream or
fight or…”

He’d
made a soothing noise, cutting off her fragmented rush of words.  “It’s
alright.”  He’d repeated.  “No one will take you from here.” 
From me
. 
Chason had placed her on the bed and gently smoothed her hair back from her
cheek.  “You’re safe.”  She must have taken a shower, because she smelled like
Mara’s jasmine shampoo.  The scent of it had made his whole body throb.

She’d
looked around, blinking.  “You’re letting me sleep in your room?”

He
had no idea why that seemed to surprise her.

Mara
could have slept in his room from the day she turned ninety-three, if she
wanted.  Hell, looking back, she could’ve slept there from the first day they
met.  He wouldn’t have Phazed with her when she was so young, but it would’ve
caused him far less stress if she stayed by his side every minute of every day.

She
was his Match.  A Magnet Phase.  And yet he’d spent decades knowing that she
was out of reach in the Light Kingdom for vast portions of the year.  Every
time Kahn would come to the Magnetland to take her away, again, Chason had felt
like someone was hacking off a piece of his body.  Mara belonged with
him
. 
She always had.

Why
was he the only one who ever believed that?

“Go
to sleep.”  He’d said tiredly and pulled the blankets up around her.  He
stepped back from bed.  “I’ll be over there if…”

“No.” 
Her hand had come over to grasp his wrist and the energy jumped between them,
different than it had been with Mara.  Bigger and messier and hotter.  He
didn’t understand it, but it was there.  “Don’t leave me.”  She’d whispered. 
“Please.  I know it’s an imposition, but I’m scared to be alone.”

Chason
had exhaled heavily, telling himself that it was all a trick and a lie and that
he should just leave.

“Please,
Chason.”

His
defenses had crumbled at the soft plea.  He’d very slowly sat down on the very
edge of the mattress, his feet still on the floor.

Mara
had never slept in his bed.  He’d always wanted her to, but it would’ve been a
complete change of custom for both of them and he’d never been able to come up
with a practical reason to suggest the switch.  Except for he just… wanted it.

That
argument had always sounded selfish and weak in his head.  Mara wouldn’t have
accepted it, obviously, so he’d never even proposed the idea.  She’d been such
a refined lady.  What kind of brutish Match would pressure her to do something
outside her comfort zone?

So,
why did this identical woman look so
right
laying there on his sheets? 
Why did the sound of his name on her lips send desire rushing through him?  He
hadn’t felt desire for anyone since Mara died.  He’d thought that had been
ripped out of him.

Chason
had swallowed and looked down at the ground, casting around for something else
to focus on.  “Do… uh… do you remember how you came to be in the Smoke
Kingdom?”

“No.” 
She’d shifted closer to him.  But, since he’d left a good foot a space between
them, and stayed above the blankets, that still didn’t bring them even close to
touching.  “
You
didn’t leave me there, did you?”  The question had been
hesitant, like she didn’t really want an answer.

“Leave
you…?  Leave your
body
, you mean? 
No
.”  How could she even have asked
that?  “Of course not!  Someone stole Mara from her tomb a couple months ago. 
Since then, I have been doing everything I could think of to find her.  I would
never
have left my Match in that swamp.  You were here in the Magnetland
–with me-- ever since you died.  Mara would
know
that.”

She’d
relaxed, again.  “I’m sorry.”  Rolling onto her side, she’d tucked one hand up
under her pillow and gazed up at him.  “Why would someone steal my body?”

He’d
tried not to look at her, because she was hypnotically beautiful and it just
made everything more confusing.  “Because I’ve made a lot of enemies since Mara
died and they knew it was the best way to hurt me.”

“So
bringing me back was about punishing you?”

A
humorless laugh had escaped him.  “
Punishing
me?  Jesus, I would do anything
to have Mara back.”  He’d run a hand through his hair.  “Die, kill, pay, beg…
Anything
.” 
He’d reluctantly glanced over at her angelic face.  “If someone could return my
Match to me, they’d own me, body and soul.  She’s the only thing I want and I
would give
anything
for her.  Every Phase in the universe knows that.”

She’d
watched him for a long moment, black eyes damp and bright.  “You missed me,
then?”  She’d asked softly.  “Really?”

Missed
her?  Chason’s vision had filmed with tears, unable to even speak for fear his
voice would break.  No, he hadn’t
missed
her.  That was like calling a whiteout
blizzard a snow flurry.  There were no words for the loneliness he felt without
Mara.  He would have “missed” his goddamn lungs less.

Silence
had stretched as he struggled not break down.

Finally,
the woman had sighed.  “Well, do you have any idea why one of your enemies took
my body, just to bring me back to life?  And since when do you even
have
enemies?  Everyone loves you.  You were named Elemental of the Year for three
consecutive decades.”

“That
was a different time.”  Emotionally drained, Chason had pushed himself further
onto the bed, staying as close to the edge as possible.  He’d leaned back
against the headboard and propped his feet up on the mattress, ignoring the
fact that he’d still had boots on.  “And a very different me.”

“There’s
only one you, Chason.”

She
had no idea how wrong she was.  The Chasons before and after the Fall were two
completely different people.  Mara’s death had fragmented him into nothing. 
She wouldn’t even know him, now.  All the gentleness and chivalry had been
burned from him and he could never get it back.  How could a lady –a princess--
have ever accepted all that he’d done?  The real Mara would have hated him.

Chason
had closed his eyes, tired to the depths of his soul.

Tired
of constantly struggling.

Tired
of being alone.

Just
tired.

His
father would have called him weak for not throwing the charlatan out of the
fortress.  He probably would have been right.  But, at that moment, Chason
hadn’t had it in him to care.  He had just wanted to lie beside her and… rest.