Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5) (16 page)

Or
had she been anchoring him this entire time?

Freya
said
something
was keeping Chason from giving up.  What if it
hadn’t
been his vengeance?  What if he’d still felt her spirit trapped in that tomb
and was somehow… waiting for her?  When her body was taken, it would have sent
him into a free fall.

“Did
your Match ever
go
to the human realm?”  Raiden asked.  “I thought you
told me…?”

“Shhhh!”  
Chason held the ticket up to his eye as if he needed to microscopically examine
each dot of faded ink.  “Be very quiet.  I need to concentrate.”

In
front of them, Lansing, of the Dust House paced back and forth, looking
frustrated.  Mara instantly didn’t like him.  Then he started talking and, for
the first time in her life, Mara realized she was fully capable of downright
hating
someone.

“We
should be finishing off the Air Phases now that the barriers are down, Raiden. 
We don’t have time for…
this
.”  Lansing waved a disgusted hand at Chason.

Once
he’d blindly followed Mara’s Match, cheering his words, but now Lansing wanted
him dead.  She quickly saw that the Dust Phase desired the power of the
Reprisal for himself and Chason was standing in his path.  Or, more precisely,
Raiden was.

The
Radiation Phase impassively watched Lansing pace and said nothing.

“He
isn’t the same commander he was before.”  Lansing pressed as if Chason wasn’t
even in the room.  Not that it mattered.  Chason wasn’t paying any attention to
him.

“Chason
is ten times the man you are, you little toad.”  Mara snapped anyway.

“He
isn’t capable of leading us to victory.”  Lansing made an impassioned gesture
with his fist.  “You see it, too, Raiden.  I know you do.  Since Parald died,
the Chason we knew is gone.”

“I’ve
seen that he needs his Match back.”  Raiden regarded Lansing with a glowing
chartreuse gaze.  “I’ve also seen that Chason’s life is vital to the universe. 
If Chason dies, we all die.”

Mara’s
eyes widened.  What did
that
mean?

“I
don’t believe you.”  Lansing spat.  “You’re saying that because you know he’s weak. 
A broken leader can’t stay in power.”

“Chason
will stay
exactly
where he is, no matter who else has to die.”  Raiden
delivered the threat with flat certainty.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

Mara
absolutely believed him.  “Thank you.”  She told Raiden from the bottom of her
heart.  “Thank you for protecting him for me.”

Lansing
glared up at Raiden in impotent fury, knowing that his plan to usurp Chason was
stymied for the time being.  He apparently gained control of the Reprisal at
some point, but he didn’t harm her Match to do it.

…Because,
he couldn’t get through Chason’s gigantic bodyguard.

Raiden
arched a brow at Lansing.  “Were you leaving?”

Lansing’s
mouth thinned.  Apparently unwilling to stand against one of the most dangerous
assassins in the realm, he turned and went marching out of the room.  The
Radiation Phase stared after Lansing for a beat and Mara saw that Raiden
wanted
to kill him.

Why
wasn’t he?

“Lansing’s
right, you know.”  Chason said abruptly, not looking up from his ticket stubs. 
“I am losing my mind.”

Raiden
looked back at him.  “I know.”

“You
should go, too.  I’ll die soon and I don’t want to take you with me.”

“You’re
not going to die.”  Mara wouldn’t allow it and she had a feeling Raiden
wouldn’t, either.

She
studied the Radiation Phases as he studied her Match, trying to read his
expression.  Raiden didn’t look at Chason with pity or annoyance.  It was more
like exasperated compassion.

“When
the time comes, only one of us will die.”  Raiden crossed back over to the
desk.  “Forget about Lansing.  What he does next can’t be changed and we have
an appointment in the Agora.  We’re supposed be meeting with Raj, of the Color
House.”

Chason
gave a twitchy sort of frown.  “Who?”  His eyes were getting foggy again.

“The
man painting that portrait of your Match?  For the Fall memorial that the
Council commissioned?  Remember?”

Apparently,
he didn’t.  “That what…?  No, no, no, no, no, no.”  Chason started to run a
hand through his hair and ended up just scratching at his scalp in a kind of
mindless frenzy.  “No. No, I can’t do that today.”

“You
don’t have to do anything except choose the painting that you want to represent
her.  You and Khan are supposed to meet with Raj today and decide.”  Raiden
paused meaningfully.  “It’s for the memorial in the Agora, Chason.  It will be
there forever.”

Chason
cringed.  His eyes darted from side to side, like he was trying to think of a
way out of it and coming up empty.  “Alright.”  He finally whispered.  “But, I
don’t want to
look
at the pictures.”

“You
might have to, if you’re going to choose one.”

“I
can’t look at my Match!”  Chason screamed.  “I
won’t
.  Not until I save
her from the grave robbers.”

But
who would save Chason?

The
memory fast-forwarded a bit and Mara found herself standing in front of a long
wall in the Agora.  Kahn and Chason stood side by side, both of them looking
like hell, while Raj, of the Color House explained the placement of Mara’s
memorial portrait.

“It’ll
be here by the flowerbed on the left of the…”

“It
should be in the center of the wall.”  Chason interrupted.

Raj
faltered.  “Well, the Council decided that the dates would go in the middle of
the…”

“Mara
should be in the center.”  Kahn snapped, agreeing with Chason for possibly the
first time ever.

“Let’s
choose the portrait first and then debate placement.”  Raiden suggested calmly
from behind them.  “Raj, you said you brought several choices?”

Mara
was really beginning to like the Radiation Phase.

“Yes,
uh…”  Raj moved to pick up his sketch book.  “I made a few studies from
photographs.”  Chason looked away, so Raj held it up for Kahn’s opinion.  “There’s
this one.”

He
held up a lovely drawing of Mara, if she did say so herself.  After watching so
many memories where she was crying, being buried, hurting her Match’s feelings
or watching men plot to kill him, this was a welcomed change.  “Oh, I
like
that!  I’m in that purple dress I wore to the…”

“No.” 
Kahn intoned.

She
scowled over at him.

Raj
quickly turned the page, not willing to argue the artistic merits of his work
with an armed Light Phase warrior.  “This one?”

“That
one’s nice, too.”  Mara nodded.  “I like my hair up like that.”

“Did
you ever fucking
see
Mara?”  Kahn demanded.  “She looked nothing like
that.”

Mara
rolled her eyes.  “I look exactly like that, Kahny.”

Raj
began to look hunted.  “Well, I have this final one.”  He held it up.  “I can
make some changes, if you like, but I think it’s probably the closest to the
photographs.”

Mara
blinked.  “Oh, yes.”  She breathed.  It looked like a more beautiful version of
her, smiling and dressed for Phazing Day.  That had been her happiest moment. 
Of
course
, it was how she wanted to be remembered.  Especially, since
Raj had thoughtfully made her lips more symmetrical and her nose smaller.  “Kahn,
that’s
definitely
it.”

Khan
studied the portrait for a long moment.  “Alright.”  He finally muttered. 
“That one’s a
little
better.”

Chason
had made it very clear he didn’t want to see any pictures of her, but he still
couldn’t resist a quick sideways peek at the sketchpad.  After that, he
couldn’t seem to look away.  “Oh for God’s sake!”  He snapped, sounding
insulted.  “That is
not
my Match.”

Raj
looked crushed.

“It
looks a lot like the pictures
I
saw of her…”  Raiden began neutrally.

“No,
it
doesn’t
.”  Chason insisted.  “My Match was
perfect
.  Every single
thing about her was
perfect
.”  He pointed at the drawing.  “
That
is not perfect.”

Mara
made an aggravated sound.  “I’m not perfect, Chason!”

Why
did he keep saying things like that?  Whatever Mara he’d created in his head,
she was obviously prettier, smarter and more worthy than the
real
Mara
had ever been.  To hear him talk, the woman had never done anything wrong.

It
was annoying.

Like
he had replaced her in his memory with some fake, flawless version of herself.  No
wonder he kept denying her identity.  Why would he want the real Mara, when he
had someone
perfect?

Kahn
glared at Chason.  “I knew my cousin all her life. 
That
looks like
Mara.”  He pointed at the drawing.  “That’s the one we’re going with.”

“No.” 
Chason shook his head emphatically.  “It’s not good enough.”

Raj
swallowed.  “Well, I can try, again…”

Chason
cut him off.  “It won’t matter. 
Nothing
could be worthy of her.”

“Such
a shame you weren’t this passionate about Mari’s memory
before
.”  Kahn
muttered.  “Like –say-- two weeks ago when someone stole her body right out
from under you.”

Chason’s
head snapped around, his eyes swirling with madness.  “For all I know,
you
took her.”  He snarled.

Mara
winced, knowing what was about to happen.

Sure
enough, Kahn’s temper went off like a rocket.  “
You’re
the one who stole
her!  If you’d let her return to the Light Kingdom to be buried, no one
would’ve had a chance to steal her body!  But you refused to let her come home
and now she’s
gone
.”

“Kahn,
no.”  Mara held up her hands, trying to mediate even though they had no idea
she was there.  “Chason didn’t steal me.  His kingdom
is
my home.”

Had
she ever realized that before?

“I
won’t be separated from my Match even in death!”  Chason shouted back.

“Stop.” 
Raiden stepped between them, before there was bloodshed.  “Would she want you
two doing this?  Especially,
here?
”

“Fucking
hell.”  Kahn hissed, again.  He backed down but not before shooting one more
glare at Chason.  “You could never just do what she wanted, could you?”

Chason’s
expression changed.  The rage faded into unbearable grief.  “I tried.”  He said
quietly.  “I just didn’t know how.”

Mara’s
heart broke.  “All I
ever
wanted you to do was love me.”

And
there was still time.

Her
mind went back to her ever present notebook and the list of regrets she’d been
painstakingly writing before she died.  All the things that she’d been so
desperate to have another shot at.  Everything that had remained undone and
unsaid in her first life.  The very last thing she’d written was the most
important:

Convince
Chason to fall in love.

Mara
looked at this disreputable, slightly crazy, more passionate man that Chason had
become.  The world might have changed, but her goals hadn’t.

For
whatever reason, she’d been reborn.  Given another chance to correct her
mistakes.  Whatever else happened, she couldn’t go back to the Mara she’d been before. 
Couldn’t be the flawless vision of herself that Chason seemed to remember.  Couldn’t
be perfect.

But,
she could be
better
.

[
She was] cast
in so slight and exquisite a mould; so mild and gentle; so pure and beautiful;

that the
earth seemed not her element, nor its rough creatures her rough companions.

Charles
Dickens- “Oliver Twist”

Comfort,
of the Color House didn’t take offense at his tone.  Color Phases were
notoriously easy to get along with.  She’d always been affable, despite
Raiden’s deadly reputation and the duel broadswords crisscrossing his back. 
Then again, she knew better than anyone that he wasn’t there to harm anybody. 
Raiden would die before he allowed anything to happen to this colorful,
impractical little cottage.

In
fact, he was going to.

“Hi,
Raiden.”  She stepped back from the door, gesturing for him to come inside.  He
hadn’t been passed the threshold in two years, but she acted as if she’d been
expecting him.  “She’s in the garden.”

Raiden
ducked through the doorway, unaccountably nervous.  “Is she… well?”

“Of
course.  I would’ve called you if she wasn’t.”  Comfort smiled as if the
question was endearing somehow.  “Or I would have told you when
you
called yesterday.  Or this morning.”

He
did call to check on things a lot.  How could he not?  It would’ve been wrong
to hover –Wrong to infringe on her childhood-- but he needed to make sure she
was okay.  Even though he
knew
she was safe, it was like a compulsion.

Especially
now with the future so uncertain.

“Good.” 
He had to tilt his head so he wouldn’t crack it against the ceiling as he moved
through the living area.  Color Phases tended to be small and he was one of the
largest Phases in any House.

Raiden
glanced around.  Toys were piled all over the delicate looking furniture. 
Dolls without heads, and Hot Wheels, and an entire zoo of rubber snakes and
tarantulas.  Everything was haphazardly scattered like it had been abandoned in
mid-play.  He could smell cookies baking, see crayon pictures tacked to the
wall… and he knew that he’d chosen an ideal guardian.

After
losing her own children and grandchildren in the Fall, Comfort was doubly
protective of her new charge and at least three times as doting.  That was what
Raiden had wanted.  Someone who would love openly and unconditionally.

And
who knew the kind of hell he would rain down if the girl experienced even one
second of unhappiness.

“Are
you
well?”  Comfort asked.  “It’s not like you to just show up.”

No,
it wasn’t.

Raiden
checked watch, his jaw tightening as the countdown numbers continued to
dwindle.  He should have been continuing his search for Zakkery.  He’d spent
all night scouring the Smoke Kingdom and come up with nothing, so it was
imperative that he find that bastard soon.  Taking time to come here was
irresponsible.

But
this would be his only chance to see her.

He
needed
to see her.

“I’m
fine.”  He lied.  “Where is she?”

It
was a rhetorical question.  He could feel her presence like an electrical
charge in the air and it drew him.  He didn’t even wait for a response, just
instinctively headed towards the back of the cottage.

“It’s
the door on the left, Raiden.”  Comfort still sounded amused.

He
didn’t need the directions.  Raiden knew this house as well as she did.  He
never would have left the child anywhere where he wasn’t assured she was
protected.  Leaving her anywhere
at all
frustrated him, even when he
knew there was no other option.

He
stepped out into the courtyard, struck by the beauty of this kingdom.  Most
kingdoms in the Elemental realm were lovely, but the Colorlands stood as one of
the most awe-inspiring places in the universe.  Before the Fall, Color Phases
had done a nice tourist trade with the other Elementals who wanted to visit
their beautiful kingdom.  Sometimes troubled Phases still came here, seeking
moments of refuge amidst the tranquil scenery.  Only the Color Phases didn’t
charge their visitors, anymore.  There didn’t seem much of a point, with so few
of them left.

The
flowers and trees and even the sky were a constantly changing mosaic of hues. 
Everything seemed white, except… it wasn’t.  A multitude of brilliant Colors
shifted and morphed like an
aurora borealis
,
giving the entire world a magical glow. 
Raiden felt completely
out of place in this
kaleidoscope-like paradise, but
he’d
walk into hell itself to see his Match.

Gladly.

“Fee.” 
Comfort called following him out into the courtyard.  “It seems you have a
visitor.”

A
rustle of some berry covered bushes.  A laugh.  And then she appeared, covered
in dirt and carrying a jar filled with skittering bugs.  Not just in a picture
Comfort had sent, but live and in person and… adorable.

Raiden
felt his knees give way and he sank to the ground in front of her.

She
was adorable.

Over
the centuries, he’d become inured to the isolation and lack of companionship. 
Hell, he even encouraged it.  People feared him and he feared himself even
more.  His mass
ive size, shaved head, and the unnatural
green glow of his eyes, all worked to keep people away and he’d grown used to
that.  He accepted that there was no place in the universe that he truly
belonged.

Until
now.

“Ellow.” 
His Match chirped, gazing up at him with no trace of fear, despite his
appearance.  “Wanna beetle?”  She hefted the jar in his direction, a welcoming
smile on her cherubic face.

At
last
.

After
three and a half centuries,
at last
he was exactly where he belonged.

“A
beetle?”  He whispered, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.  He’d
never resented the ruined sound of it more than he did at that moment.  To such
a small child, he must have seemed like a monster.

Except,
she didn’t seem particularly scared by the rough cadence of his words or the
jagged scar across his throat.  Then again, the girl was holding a dozen
squirming insects like they were diamonds, so she must have had a high
tolerance for the macabre.

“Beetles
is fun!  This one is da the best one.”  She moved closer to him, tilting the
jar and pointing to an indistinguishable crawling dot.  “I name him Melwissa!”  Everything
she said was said at maximum volume.

Raiden
felt his mouth curve, resisting the urge to smooth down the wild curls escaping
her braids.  He’d never been around a child before, especially a female one. 
Despite her zeal, she was even more delicate than he’d imagined she’d be.

Sandy
blonde hair was fastened into two messy pigtails, covered in a pair of Mickey
Mouse ears.  Her small body was dressed in a bizarre mishmash of clothes: a
t-shirt with the
Punisher
logo, pink overalls with star shaped patches
at the knees, glittery rubber bracelets up to her elbows, and a ballerina tutu.

She
might as well have been an alien to him.

“What
makes Melissa the best?”  He asked, at a loss for what else to say.

“Is
the biggest.”  Topaz eyes blinked like that should be obvious.  “Biggest is
best.”

“Under
different circumstances, I’d be very happy to hear you say that.”  God knew,
he’d been called a giant enough times.  It would have been nice if his Match
could tolerate his size.  Raiden cleared the tightness in his throat and tried
to go back to the words he’d practiced a hundred thousand times.  “I’m sorry to
just come here like this.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  And then, because he
couldn’t help himself, he reiterated.  “I would
never
hurt you.”

“’Kay.” 
She agreed distractedly.  “Wanna play bugs?”

Yes. 
He really did.

Raiden
would give anything in the universe if he could sit in the grass and play with
her for an afternoon.  “No, baby, I can’t.”  He pressed on with his speech,
because he didn’t have another choice.  “I know you don’t know who I am, but… I
just needed to see you.”

Just
once.

Her
head tilted.  “I know you.”  She said decisively, deviating from his mental
script.

“You…
do?”  Raiden frowned, suddenly fearful of the stories she might have heard
about him.  He didn’t want her to remember him the way others did.  “Who am I?”

Her
mouseketeer hat slid over one eye and she pushed it back.  “Rway, silly.”  She
giggled like she thought he told a joke.

Raiden
didn’t know what that meant.  “Rway?”

“She
means ‘Ray.’”  Comfort said softly from behind him.  “It’s what she calls you.”

Raiden
hadn’t anticipated that.  He looked over at Comfort.  “I told you not to tell
her about me.”

She
shouldn’t
have
to know about him.  Even coming here today was selfish
and wrong.  He should never have gotten this close to her, but he couldn’t stop
himself.  A lifetime of discipline meant nothing compared to seeing the
ballerina entomologist who should have grown up to be his.

“I
didn’t
have
to tell her about you.”  Comfort shrugged.  “She’s always known
you were out there.”  No one else would have trusted him in with six city
blocks of a baby, but Comfort strolled back into the house leaving them
completely alone.  “Really, Raiden, you know about her energy.”  She called as
she strolled away.  “What did you expect?”

Fucking
hell.

The
child was already connecting to him.

How
could she
possibly
be that powerful?

He’d
known from the second she was born that his Match was special.  Not just because
she was a rare and beautiful gift to the world, but because this little girl in
the mismatched tennis shoes was one of the most powerful Elemental alive.

Most
Elementals grew more powerful as they aged, but Raiden’s Match had been born
with her energy already topping out all known charts.  Gaia only knew how much
stronger she would get.

He’d
kept her hidden as best he could, fearful of what might happen if others knew
she existed.  Because of who he was and who she might grow-up to be, she’d be a
target.  Even if she wasn’t part of a House known for its love of war, or even
its particularly useful powers, she’d still be valuable to far too many people.

The
only one he’d allowed to monitor her was Freya, the Elemental’s foremost
medical expert.  She’d reported back to Raiden with the results of Fee’s
various check-ups and all of them pointed to a child unlike any other.  The
words “incredibly advanced for her age,” “precocious on every testable level,”
and “EXTREMELY powerful” had filled the thick folders she sent.

Also
“spoiled,” “stubborn” and “
very
assertive.”

Raiden
considered those good things.

He
didn’t care that his Match had the language and developmental skills of a child
three times her age.  Or possessed powers that could conceivably change the
world.  All that mattered was that she felt safe enough to act spoiled,
stubborn, and
very
assertive.

That
was why he’d brought her to this small cottage to be raised by the kindest,
most grandmotherly woman he could think of.  As a child, Raiden had tried to
stay invisible for fear of being beaten or used for his abilities.  Until he
was large enough to defend himself, he’d hidden in the shadows as much as
possible.  Dreading any footsteps coming near him, growing to hate his House
and distrust everyone in the universe, from God on down.

His
Match would never,
ever
know that kind of fear.  He wanted her to feel
nothing but security.  To expect nothing but love.  To know nothing but joy.

Even
if he wouldn’t be there to share it with her.

Raiden
had always known that he could never be with his Match.  He’d tried to accept
his fate and not ache for what should have been.  He’d told himself that her
safety was all that mattered.  That she’d grow-up happy, with no knowledge of
him and that it would be for the best.  He’d told himself that he wouldn’t be
bitter that their time was so short, he’d just be grateful that he’d lived to
meet her, at all.

He’d
told himself that it would be enough to have this one visit to say good-bye.

Convincing
himself of all those justifications had been easy.  Raiden wanted to see her,
so much. 
Needed
to see her.  Nothing could have kept him from coming
here today.  But, he’d thought the pain would be his to bear alone.  He hadn’t
known that she was so powerful, she’d already felt their connection.

Even
as this tiny baby, she’d
felt
him.

Raiden
closed his eyes.  Gaia, what was she going to do tomorrow, when he was gone? 
How would she ever understand?  What kind of life would she have with her Match
dead?