Flame Caller (2 page)

“
You’re not even dressed
yet?” she asked. “We’re going to be late.”

She looked at him, noting the
puffiness around his eyes. With a sad smile, she walked over to the
edge of the bed and sat down beside him. She placed an abnormally
warm hand on his bare shoulder and squeezed gently.

Xander reached up and wiped away the
fresh tears. Sammy leaned forward and kissed him gently on his
forehead. As she leaned back, he stared into her crystal blue eyes.
Flecks of gray pierced the rims of her irises, giving her eyes a
steely appearance.

“
I’m sorry for your loss,”
she said.

Her words were like a knife twisting
in his gut. He cringed and shook his head.

“
Please don’t say that,”
Xander said. “If one more person tells me that they’re sorry my
parents died, I think I’m going to explode.”

Sammy frowned and quickly looked away.
Xander reached out and took her hand.

“
I’m sorry, Sammy. I
didn’t mean to snap at you.” He blinked away the newest wave of
emotion. “It’s just that I miss them so much. And every time I
think about getting dressed and going to their funeral, I get this
wrenching in my gut. It’s like a constant reminder that they’re
dead because of me.”

“
Xander,” Sammy said.
“It’s not your fault they died.”

Xander sat up in the bed so that he
was eye level with Sammy. His eyes smoldered through the tears.
“They died because I’m a Wind Warrior. If I hadn’t become one or if
I hadn’t left them—”

“
Then General Abraxas
would have killed you too,” she finished. “You’re a good man,
Xander, but you don’t understand the type of people you’re dealing
with. Most of the Fire Caste aren’t evil like Abraxas was but men
like him exist and they’ll stop at nothing to see you dead. If you
had been at your parents’ house instead of here with the other Wind
Warriors, then we’d be burying you today too.”

Sammy cradled the side of his head in
her hand. “You lived, Xander. You lived so you can stop the Fire
Caste from killing anyone else.”

Xander reached up and pulled her hand
away. Shifting his weight, he turned his back to her and stared out
the open window. Sea spray settled over the red tiles just outside
the window and rolled off the roof in small rivulets.

“
I’m not trying to pick a
fight but what’s the point? A single Fire Warrior killed my
parents, Bart, and nearly killed my grandfather. One man! If it
hadn’t been for you, he would have killed me too. How could we
possibly stop an entire army of them?”

Sammy laid her head on his exposed
back and listened to his quickened heartbeat. “I don’t
know.”

Startled by her honesty, Xander
glanced over his shoulder.

“
I don’t know how,” Sammy
repeated. “But you’ll find a way. You and the other Wind Warriors
will find a way to save the world, I know it.”

“
I wish I could believe
that.”

Sammy slid off the side of the bed,
taking his hand in the process, and pulling him with her. “We have
time to convince you later. Right now, we have a funeral to attend.
Don’t let survivor’s guilt keep you from honoring their
memory.”

Xander sighed and threw his legs over
the side of the bed. As he placed his feet on the cold floor, he
pulled her into a tight hug. She turned her head to the side and
buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“
All right,” he said, his
voice rumbling against her ear as she lay against his chest. “Let
me get dressed.”

They paused as they left his house.
Sammy reached down to a basket set beside his door and pulled out a
bundle of fresh lavender stalks. The smell was intoxicating,
compared to the normal, overwhelming scent of the ocean. She handed
the stalks to Xander, who took them with a look of
surprise.

“
What are these for?” he
asked.

Sammy smiled sweetly. “I found a patch
growing on the far side of the island. I figured they’d be a nice
gesture to lay on the graves.”

Xander’s smile was mixed with a tinge
of sadness at the mention of the graves. “Thank you. This is really
nice.”

He slipped his hand into hers as they
walked. He squinted against the bright sunlight and felt the first
bead of sweat roll down his back. Despite the thin, loose-fitting
shirt he wore, the sun and humidity was oppressive on the
island.

Xander closed his eyes as he walked
and concentrated on the still air around them. A soft breeze coiled
around his sandaled ankles as he walked and the wind surged into
his body as though being soaked up through his pores. The breeze
whispered to him as it flowed through him, cooling him off. It
spoke in a language that was completely alien, yet strangely
familiar. He didn’t understand the words but the message was
unmistakable.

“
Thank you,” Sammy said
from beside him.

Xander opened his eyes and saw the
same breeze curling lazily around Sammy. Her hair whipped playfully
in the air before settling back onto her shoulders. The slight
flush in her porcelain skin seemed to fade away as the cold air
washed over her.

Despite the sad event, he felt more
alive when he was controlling the wind. It was part of his
birthright, one that he wasn’t willing to give up just because the
Fire Caste was eager to replace the Wind Warriors.

“
How are my aunts and
uncles taking everything?” he asked as the wind faded slightly,
receding until it became just a faint whisper of air that seeped
through their thin clothing.

He felt slightly guilty asking the
question. The other remaining Wind Warriors—his “aunts and
uncles”—were certainly suffering the loss of Bart as surely as he
was suffering the loss of his parents, but he hadn’t bothered to
visit with any of them since returning from White Halls. He had
locked himself in his room instead, seeing only Sammy when she came
to visit.

Sammy shrugged. “I don’t know,
honestly. I mean, they’re obviously sad about what happened, but
only Giovanni and Alicia will actually talk to me. Patrick and Thea
just give me looks like I’m the devil every time I’m around. And
Robert is always in the dome. I guess they’re taking it all in
stride.”

He couldn’t imagine how they must be
feeling. They just lost a friend they had known closely for thirty
or forty years. He wondered if it had become easier for them over
the years, though. His parents were the first people he truly lost
that were close to him. The other Wind Warriors had once been part
of a group that numbered in the hundreds. Surely, other Wind
Warriors had died throughout the years.

“
How are you doing, now
that we’re actually going to the funeral?” she asked.

Xander shook his head. “I don’t know.
I’m kind of numb right now. I’m just trying to hold it all together
but I feel like a puzzle with a few pieces missing.”

She gave his hand a firm squeeze.
“We’re here. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Xander sighed. “As good as I can be.
Let’s go.”

As they rounded the last building, the
stone walkway gave way to lush, green grass. The park before them
stretched to the edge of the island, ending at the wall of sea
spray rising to the sky above. A gentle mist of salt water cascaded
over the pair as they left the protection of the marble
buildings.

Three figures stood at the far end of
the park, flanking three graves. The tops of the graves were
covered with piles of stones, creating makeshift cairns.

Xander froze at the sight. He thought
he’d prepared himself enough for this moment but he was quickly
overwhelmed at the sight of the graves. The one to the far left
concealed the body of Bart. The other two were actually empty
graves; they were symbolic markers for Xander’s parents. Their
bodies were still with the White Halls coroner. Though he had
wanted to retrieve them to give them a proper burial, he knew the
Fire Warriors who had accompanied General Abraxas would be waiting
for him.

Despite knowing the graves were empty,
it didn’t lessen the severe heartache he felt.

Sammy slipped an arm into his, giving
him support as he walked forward. Xander looked quickly away from
the graves and instead stared at the three older Wind Warriors who
stood stoically behind the cairns. Only Patrick, Thea, and Giovanni
were present, another reminder of all they had already lost since
the Fire Caste declared war on them. Bart was gone. His grandfather
had been badly burned and still hadn’t awoken since their return.
Alicia tended to him practically day and night, meaning that
another Wind Warrior was incapable of defending against the Fire
Warrior invasion.

Not that they cared to fight back,
Xander realized sourly as he and Sammy approached the graves. All
the elder Wind Warriors—even the ones that seemed to support him
the most like Giovanni and Alicia—seemed apathetic when it came to
fighting back. It was as though the transition from the wind to the
fire was a foregone conclusion. Xander and Sammy seemed to be the
only ones that were willing to stand up to the advance.

As he caught Patrick’s eye, the Irish
Wind Warrior scowled and opened his mouth to speak. Thea’s quick
elbow to his ribs quickly silenced him and left him cringing. He
didn’t need to speak for Xander to know what he was going to say.
It wasn’t Xander at whom Patrick was scowling. It was Sammy,
walking at his side.

He and Sammy stopped on the far side
of the graves and stared at the others. Despite Patrick’s obvious
displeasure at Sammy’s presence, all the Wind Warriors looked
saddened by the occasion.

“
Would anyone like to say
anything?” Giovanni asked, breaking the awkward silence. “I don’t
really know if any of us are truly qualified to oversee a funeral,
so I thought we could just speak what was on our minds. Assuming
that’s okay with you all, yes?”

So many different thoughts crashed
through Xander’s mind. He tried to think of something meaningful to
say but everything he thought of seemed paltry under the
circumstances. No one cared like he did that his mother was always
compassionate and loving. It seemed insignificant that Xander
always knew the affection his father felt, even when the man was
being a strict disciplinarian. He tried brushing aside the thoughts
of his mother and father lying to him his entire life about the
existence of the Wind Warriors, but even that invasive thought kept
creeping back into the forefront of his memories.

The more he thought of everything they
had been, the more he realized they were gone. Their love and
affection would only be a memory; a shadow of what it had once been
and what it had meant to him. A knot quickly formed in his throat
and he had to swallow hard before the emotion rolled out of
him.

Across the gravesite, Patrick cleared
his throat. Xander could see the same deep emotion in the
Irishman’s eyes as he prepared to speak.

“
Bart was a good man and a
good friend,” he began, his words thick with sadness. He laughed
softly in the way people do when they don’t know what to say in an
uncomfortable situation. “I still remember when we met nearly, God,
thirty years ago now. I was fresh from the Isle and had an accent
thicker than you wouldn’t believe. The poor lad couldn’t even
understand me when I spoke.”

Patrick paused and wiped away a tear.
“We always said we were terrible friends; that it would be
ridiculous for us to grow old together because we never really got
along. We argued like a married couple. But I never in a million
years thought that we
wouldn’t
grow old together, you
know?

“
He deserved better,” he
muttered, as much to himself as the others gathered around the
graves.

The five men and women stood in
silence, lost in their own thoughts and generally avoiding eye
contact with one another. Xander knew the loss he felt but couldn’t
imagine what it must be like to lose a friend like Patrick
had—someone he had known for longer than Xander had even been
alive.

Again, he sought the right words for
his parents’ eulogy but nothing came. His mind became a white
sheet, completely blank.

Giovanni raised his head and made the
sign of the cross over his forehead. Looking toward Xander, he
caught the younger man’s gaze.