Elemental (9 page)

Though I had never known the exact plan for
my escape, it had seemed pretty clear to me that the original
thought had been to just get me to Soltak. Once there, a change of
clothes would have been my biggest problem, but easily handled.
Now, it was obvious this Delsa-Prime guy wasn’t just going to let
some Mamood slave escape. Malik was no longer the ranking officer
aboard this ship.

That left me with few options. And one of
them seemed the only realistic one: I was going to have to turn
myself in. The game had gone on long enough and I was a fool to
think Manoo would just let me go. I was Shadra—his enemy. Manoo
didn’t give

someone that title unless he really meant
it.

A tear slid down my cheek. Could I do this
to Meir? I didn’t care for myself. My life had ceased a long time
ago. It was never right of me to try to reanimate what was already
dead. And as time continued to pass, victims would fall at my feet.
First Meir, now Malik, and I guessed even Pallaton would suffer for
what I’d done. I was the bringer of death, indeed. Better to end it
now before the whole universe came crashing down.

I snickered. So much for being a nobody.

I just didn’t know how to go about doing it.
If I gave Meir and Malik some warning so they could escape, they
would try to stop me. Well, at least Meir would. Malik I still
wasn’t entirely sure about. His honor seemed important to him, but
my declaration of self-sacrifice might very well release him from
any sense of duty. After all,
I
would be the one making the
choice, not him.

That gave me an idea. Perhaps I
could
confide in Malik. I would have to get him alone before they did
anything stupid to try to get me away. He could run off with Meir,
concocting some story about how they had to go on ahead, and then I
could turn myself in to the Delsa-Prime. Meir and Malik would be
safe and no one else would get hurt. I knew Meir would be hurt when
he found out. I couldn’t deny the bond that had formed between us.
He was every bit my father now, and it tore at my heart to think of
crushing him that way. I had to be strong for him, though. It would
be far worse if we stayed together. I wouldn’t allow myself to
think about just how bad it could get.

I let the tears pour down my cheeks and soak
the hard fabric of my cot until I had nothing left. There was no
going back now. Though it hurt every tissue in my body to think
about leaving him, I knew I could be strong—for him.

Freedom.

The thought no longer brought hope, but a
wallowing hole of desolation. It was never to be mine. I had to
accept that now.

I turned my body around to look at my
savior—memorizing every feature on his face. His soft, black eyes
were closed, but I studied the creases along his face. There were
laugh lines and ones of sorrow around his eyes and mouth, creating
darker shadows in his already dark skin. He was black as night and
just as beautiful. His wide nostrils flared with each steady breath
and his wide lips were slightly parted. I thought he might be
asleep, but without the snoring, I couldn’t be sure.

I smiled.

This face, just as it was now, would be in
my mind as I took my last breath. I had been given the chance to
love someone and know what it was to be loved in return. Manoo
could take my life now because I already had everything I’d ever
wanted.

A sharp screeching sound, like metal on
metal, ripped through the hold, and I was sent flying through the
air. The floor was coming up at me fast, but I wasn’t going to hit
it. No, because the hard corner of a metal crate would hit me long
before the floor did. My arms and legs flailed about as if I
actually thought I could fly and escape the coming pain. When I saw
the sharp edge rising up toward me, I reasoned that I should
somehow move, but I instinctively knew that wasn’t going to
happen.

And then my skull came cracking down on the
crate. The corner dug into my temple, ripping the skin wide open.
My cry of pain was cut short as my head snapped back, cutting off
the air through my windpipe. The floor decided to take its turn
then. My legs were below me as I landed and I cringed when the full
weight of my body landed on my right knee. But I didn’t scream
until I heard it pop.

I gritted my teeth and gasped against the
agony. Flames of pain shot up my leg and inside my head, but I knew
I had to be quiet. Somehow, I had to be quiet. It wasn’t time for
me to be discovered. Not yet. Not until Malik and Meir were safely
away. And I knew no “respectable” Tarmean slave would scream from
pain.

Something happened then that made me almost
ninety percent sure I’d lost my mind—right in front of me the air
began to melt.

I didn’t really know how air could melt, but
it was doing it. The crates in front of me shimmered at first like
on a hot day, but almost immediately that description wasn’t even
good enough. The air thumped, pulsing back and forth, warping the
crates, pushing them toward me, and then pulling them away. It was
like everything just a few feet ahead of me was sucked into some
center point.

And then I knew I was crazy—beyond a shadow
of a doubt, head banging against the wall crazy. Where the air had
been twisting and morphing just seconds ago, three men
materialized. And yet, they weren’t really what you could call
“men.” Oh no, they were so much more, like something ripped
straight out of a dream.

They had wings. Huge, bright wings of colors
so vivid, I had to shield my eyes to look at them.

Only one of the winged men faced my
direction, but his gaze rested above me. His ivory face was
shockingly pale against the bright, pulsing blue of his wings, with
waist-length hair only slightly darker than his skin. I stared,
frozen in awe at the overwhelming perfection of the clean lines of
his jaw and cheekbones and in terror at the thought of what someone
so obviously greater than any mortal man was capable of doing to
me.

His wings left trails of blue in the
shivering air as he twisted to face his companions.

The trapped air in my lungs came out in a
silent whoosh. I don’t know how he didn’t see me, but I thanked
whatever deity was out there that he hadn’t. El, Manoo—at this
point, it didn’t matter.

The one who had turned away from me pulled
out some kind of flat-paneled device and stared at it. He tapped it
a couple of times and said in a watery voice, “I’m picking up a
strong radioactive signature, but I can’t lock onto it. Whatever’s
in these crates is messing with the readings. I’m not certain, but
I think she’s in this room.”

She?
Oh, crap.

For a split second, I thought about trying
to crawl my way to the back corner of the cargo hold and hide in
the shadows behind a wall of crates, but as soon as I moved, the
shooting daggers up my leg told me that plan was entirely
impossible—at least as long as I wanted to keep from screaming.

“Fan out and search.” One of the other
winged men spoke, this time with a woodsy, airy voice. I couldn’t
see him, but I guessed by the way he spoke with such authority he
was their leader. “I want her found.”

Two of the men broke off—the long-haired man
was one of them—leaving just the leader to stand so close I
could’ve touched him. I let out a sigh of relief that his back was
to me.

If I had been in any way impressed with
long-haired man’s wings, I now considered them plain and downright
boring compared to what was staring me in the face. Delicate,
velvety, sea-green folds rippled seamlessly out of the leader’s
firm, muscle-toned back. My gaze was drawn to the perfect but
subtle change from green at the base of his shoulder blades to the
deep, twilight blue around the edges. As my eyes absorbed the sheer
beauty of the vivid colors, I was blown away at just how massive
his wings were. From the leader’s shoulder blades, the wings swept
to the floor and high above his head, shielding most of his body
from me. They were without a doubt the most beautiful things I had
ever seen. If I had not been so terrified these strange men would
find me, I would’ve reached out and stroked them. The pull was
almost overwhelming.

“There’s someone over here.” The third man
spoke this time, breaking me out of my trance. His tone was much
deeper than the other two, almost fiery. “A man. And in bad
condition. There’s a lot of blood.”

Meir.

I stifled a gasp.

“He’s unconscious,” the fiery one
continued.

The leader walked a few feet away and
stopped where our cots had been. Meir’s bed had been much closer to
the crates than mine. When I’d flown through the air, he must’ve
been thrown into the crates and knocked unconscious.

I pursed my lips, furious these men were
here and stopping me from going to Meir.

“Stand by him for now,” the leader said.
“Olorun, have you found anything?”

“She’s definitely in this room,” the
long-haired man replied. “I’m picking up her signature
everywhere.”

I glanced his way to see what was happening
and winced when the movement made my head swim.

The leader turned around to face me. I
squeezed my eyelids shut as tightly as they would go, childishly
hoping I’d become invisible to him if I did.

“Ella?” Boots shuffled across the floor as
he rushed over to me.

I sank further to the floor and let the sobs
pour out between my uneven gasps. “Please—please.” I didn’t know
what to say. Don’t hurt me? I didn’t even know why they were here
or how he knew my name. And where was Malik?

The man grabbed me by the shoulder to sit me
up. I screamed as my kneecap ripped further from its socket.

“Oh, no.” The man gasped. “Olorun! Get over
here.”

Another set of boots shuffled over to me. My
fists clenched against the floor.

“Steady her leg.”

Two hands wrapped around my ankle and calf
while another set cradled the top and underside of my knee. I
gritted my teeth, prepared for what was coming next. With a quick
and steady twist of his hands, the leader put my kneecap back into
its proper position. My screams went up an octave for a few short
second; it felt as if hot daggers were ripping my leg apart.

The pain started to seep away. My screaming
died out into whimpers and my body crumpled from exhaustion. I
didn’t even have the strength to fight against the leader as he
pulled me up onto his lap and pressed my head against his shoulder
with his hand on my cheek.

“Shh,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

Safe? I was the furthest thing from safe.
He’d found me, and one of his men was guarding my savior. No one
was going to be able to help me now.

“We should go back before the others wake
and see us.” Olorun stood by the leader’s side now. I stared at the
hem of his grey pants, watched as it slid across the top of his
boots with each movement.

“She needs a few more minutes.” The leader’s
hot breath poured over my scalp and brushed along my face to my
nose. It was sweet and pleasant. I inhaled deeply and imagined it
somehow made me stronger. “We’ve been separated too long. She’s not
strong enough for transporting.”

“You were without her for just as long.”
Olorun started pacing back and forth beside us. “Yet you had no
trouble with the journey.”

The leader’s voice turned gruff—almost a
growl. “Yes, but I wasn’t being starved to death.” The hand against
my face balled into a fist.

The conversation confused me. Somehow I was
connected to the man who now held me and I wasn’t entirely
convinced that was a good thing. I didn’t even want to begin to
wrap my mind around what they meant by “transporting.” Visions of
melting air forced their way to the front of my mind. I shook them
away and focused on a new feeling coursing through my
body—strength. I was growing stronger; I could feel it. Breathing
was suddenly easier for me, though I had never noticed I’d had
difficulty with it. But now it came naturally and smoothly, not
forced between gasps.

My wounds, too, had stopped burning. I felt
wonderful—like the wraith from
Sho’ful
was in the process of
transforming into something with substance. My heart beat steadily,
not the painful stutters of before.

“Hmm…” The man pressed his lips against my
head and inhaled. “I can feel it already. I wasn’t aware of how
weak I’d gotten.” He lifted his head. “Just a few more minutes,
Olorun.”

“We don’t have a few more minutes. That man
over there is almost totally healed and will be waking soon. The
others on the ship are already stirring.”

“Calm down.” He spoke with the firm
authority of a leader. “No one will see us. The secret of the Auri
won’t be revealed.”

There was a long pause where no one said
anything. I felt the man’s limbs grow stiff around me.

Olorun broke the silence. “Sir.” He grumbled
and walked off.

The man holding me relaxed and pressed me
tighter against his chest, resting his cheek against the top of my
head. “How are you feeling?” he breathed.

I bit my lip and froze. Did I want to answer
him? What would happen if I did?

“Ella?” He lifted his head again and grabbed
my chin, forcing me to look up at him. He studied me quietly with
sad, green eyes.

Green eyes.

Flashes of a boy in an open field filled my
mind. I knew those eyes. They were exactly as I remembered
them—crisp jade. The face around them was older, but still the
same—the high cheekbones, the hint of a dimple on his chin, even
the honey hair—my memory come to life.

I wasn’t in any danger. I almost laughed to
think of my earlier foolishness. I was in the best place I could
ever be—in the arms of the one who held the key to my past. How
silly I’d been to ever think they meant me harm, to even dream of
hiding from them.

More of the memory surfaced in my mind.
“Cailen.” I brushed my fingertips against his face, following the
contours of his lips and jaw.