Elemental Light (Paranormal Public Book 9) (21 page)

A woman with white hair swept up and piled in ringlets on top of her head appeared at the opening to the tent, and behind her was Rose, looking harassed. The woman was beautiful, with bright green eyes, perfectly clear skin, and a small button nose. She was much smaller than the oggle, and she held herself with a regal air that reminded me of Lanca at her coronation. She wore a pale lavender dress cut to accentuate her tiny waist.

“My dears,” said the woman, stretching her arms out wide, “at least we meet.”

Gargoile grinned. “This is Elzre,” he said. “She’s a wizard.”

“Actually, I’m a pixie,” Elzre said, graciously including her head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rose flinch.

“I’m here to make you look beautiful,” Elzre declared. “Or rather, more beautiful.”

We spent the better part of the afternoon in Elzre’s care. Her singsong voice became all I heard as she washed, cut, and re-clothed us. It took two washings to get my hair back to reasonable, and I was fairly certain that Elzre wanted Sip to wash in both her human and werewolf form. But my friend refused, and some instinct in Elzre told her not to push, which was good, because Sip was touchy about pixies.

Rose had left soon after we arrived, having had a bath and gotten some of her clothes repaired before running away as quickly as she could.

When it was all over we emerged into the warm late afternoon sun. I felt like I’d been rubbed with sandpaper over every inch of my body. Elzre had also chopped off more of my hair than I was comfortable with. Of course, Sip thought I looked grand, but Sip tightly maintained her own pixie-cut curls come hellhounds or demons.

“I smell like lilacs,” she said as we left the tent. “I know they’re mostly purple and my eyes are purple, but that’s fishy logic. Elzre was also wearing purple. Can she do anything that isn’t related to the color purple, and more specifically lilac?”

“At least you don’t look ridiculous,” I said, tugging at my clothing. Elzre had put me into what could only have been described as a dress, although it wasn’t, really. It was a teal-colored thing, all one piece of clothing, with long flowing pants and a tightly fitted top. On the cuffs were jewels of red, brown, white, and blue, which she claimed were meant to represent the elementals. I thought it was merely something she had found in the back of her closet.

“You look splendid,” said Sip. “It’ll definitely make an impression.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “but which one?”

I knew Sip had a point. If I was going to assert my rights on the paranormal council despite the fact that there were no other elementals, I had to look more like an adult and less like a lost twelve-year-old. I wasn’t totally convinced this was the best way to go about it, but no other way was likely to present itself, so I told myself to stop worrying and get on with my day.

“In other news,” said Sip, “are you really going to wait until the meeting to put on the crown?”

“Yes,” I said, “I want to make the kind of impression that only the element of surprise can provide.”

We went back to my tent to wait. For something to do, I fetched the two halves of the crown and checked to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything else. Eventually Lough came by and found Sip flipping through one of the view books Mrs. Swan had left around, even though she knew she wouldn’t find the cure to Lisabelle’s consuming darkness there.”

You two stalling?” he asked, taking one look at us and sitting down.

“Nooooo,” said Sip. “I’m reading.”

“Amazing how one activity can have two uses, isn’t it?” Lough asked. His red cheeks were ruddier than they’d ever been and his blond hair flopped over his forehead. Elzre had offered him a haircut, but it was all Lough could do not to run away screaming.

“This is big,” I said, “The council is voting on whether or not we’re going to war.”

“Someone should tell them we’re already at war,” said Sip.

“They know we’re at war,” said Lough, “it’s just a question of whether we’ll march on Public. The takeover is still relatively new, and Caid’s position is vulnerable now that Cynthia Malle has double-crossed him.”

“At least Dobrov didn’t give darkness the Key of Light,” I said.

I held up the Key and marveled again that I was holding it. I had thought Dobrov would come back for it, but he hadn’t. I wondered if his actions spoke more than his words ever would.

Lough leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “Can we trust him?” he asked.

“We don’t have to trust him,” said Sip. She glanced at me, a look that wasn’t lost on Lough. “I don’t think we can trust anyone but each other.”

“Can we include Bartholem on the list of paranormals we don’t trust? Because I don’t like cats,” said Lough. Bartholem was a white cat that had taken a liking to Lisabelle, and Lough didn’t like anyone who took a liking to Lisabelle, except himself, and Sip and me, of course. As far as I knew Bartholem was still at Public. I shoved away any thoughts of the demons eating him or skinning him alive.

“You know, I’m the werewolf,” said Sip. “I should really be the one who doesn’t like cats.”

“Get on that then,” said Lough.

“We aren’t including Bartholem,” I said, “but Lisabelle’s right, we shouldn’t trust anyone.”

“Lisabelle?” Lough asked, his head rising in hope.

We hadn’t a chance to tell him about her visit, but I did now.

“I’m glad she was here,” said Lough. “It’s always harder not talking than talking.”

“You look good, by the way,” said Sip, pointing to Lough’s fine grays, sky blues, and accents of silver, the colors that dream givers wear when they were trying to be impressive. Apparently Elzre was full of surprises.

Lough rolled his eyes. “This is one tradition I could live without, but I’m not going to go into it right now, because really, it’s time for us to go.”

Sip sighed and closed her book, while I stood up. Lough came over to me and straightened one of the jewels on my collar. “Now you’re  ready to face them.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” I whispered, tugging on a sleeve.

“Well,” said Sip, “hopefully they don’t know that.”

Chapter
Nineteen

After I tucked the two ends of the crown safely into my teal outfit, we left our tent.

Strangely, we didn’t get very far before Lough pulled us aside. An inky night had already fallen, accented by a million silver stars and the flicker of hundred of torches. The air was cool but not cold, and I found I was wearing ample clothing. The trail was thin and winding and there was no one else around our tent when we left. The dirt under our feet was slightly damp and packed down enough so that we walked silently.

The quiet path was what let us sneak up on whoever was up in front of us, concealed behind a tree. Sip heard the person first with her werewolf senses, and Lough, who was in front, quickly pulled us aside.

One of the voices I didn’t recognize, but it was male and raspy, as if it wasn’t often used. The other voice was definitely Gargoile.

“She doesn’t want them to know anything. They’re all too powerful for us to fight out in the open,” said Gargoile.

“We shouldn’t have them here, and that’s all there is to it,” said the other voice. “They’re a danger and a law unto themselves. Their best friend is the right hand to the Darkness
Premier, for paranormal’s sake!” I glanced at Lough and he leaned close to me, so close that his lips brushed my ear. “Smeer.”

I could see from Sip’s expression that she didn’t have to be so close to hear Lough. We had never heard Mrs. Swan’s lieutenant speak, but apparently Lough had.

“We should never have had this gathering,” said Gargoile. “Any paranormals the demons don’t execute, they gather for the Black Ring Ceremonies. They’re also calling the process a turning, because paranormals’ power is being turned to darkness. We’re just going to be one more bunch gathered onto that list.”

I heard a slap and a cry that made me jump slightly. Smeer must have struck Gargoile, and the three of us exchanged glances. What were they talking about?

Halston’s gossip had been right.

“Don’t talk like that! Do you want to scare all the paranormals?” Smeer hissed. “If they know their friends are being collected for ceremonies, they’ll never fight. They’ll go to their precious houses and hide out, staying as far away from the demons as possible.”

“That might not be so bad,” said Gargoile. Smeer was not a large man, and Gargoile was huge. I didn’t hear our former traveling companion move, but I did hear him say, “And if you ever touch me like that again, I’ll wring your scrawny neck.”

“I’m just saying,” said Smeer, “Public has been turned into a Nocturn factory. It’s as simple as that, and the numbers are only going to increase. The worst idea in the world is sending that foolish elemental there.”

“If they turn her too, she’ll no longer be an elemental. She’ll just wear the Black Ring like the rest of them. I see no problem with that.”

My heart pounded in my chest and I fought to control my temper. They were talking about me and the process the demons used to eliminate paranormal power. It was a lot like what had happened to Lisabelle. She now wore the First
Black Ring, and so far as we knew, that power was not reversible.

“They probably want to be turned,” said Smeer. “Their best friend is now a mutant monster. It isn’t surprising that they’ve been reluctant to join the cause.”

“They’ll join or they’ll go to darkness, but either way is a win for us, because we won’t have to deal with them anymore,” said Gargoile. “The Verlans girl was always beyond hope.”

“Darkness calls to darkness,” said Smeer. “She was always almost all darkness anyway. Now she’s pure evil.”

I felt a tug on my arm; it was Sip’s pale hand, pulling me away. I grabbed Lough and dragged him along with us. The conversation sounded like it was ending anyway, and I had been so shocked at first that I didn’t even know what to say. But Sip, who always kept her wits about her, dragged me away along the path. It was clear that we’d have to go in a different direction from the one where we’d been headed, because I didn’t want Smeer and Gargoile to know we’d been listening. For all we knew they’d murder us and dump our bodies in some spot where they’d never be found.

“Wow,” said Lough as we saw other paranormals gathering for the meeting.

“A Black Ring Ceremony? They don’t mind if we die? They think Lisabelle’s evil? Was there anything they were right about?”

Sip looked grim as we stopped and looked for a place to join the procession. “The Great Turning is real,” she said. “I’ve read about it. I just didn’t realize that’s what was taking place at Public
. . . and that’s . . . bad.”

“You don’t think they got Dacer and the rest and turned them already, do you?” I asked, suddenly feeling panic sweep through my chest. I couldn’t lose Dacer, I just couldn’t.

Sip shook her head. “We would have heard, I think.”

I wasn’t expecting a procession on the grand scale that met us at that point. All the men of Mrs. Swan’s resistance were dressed in dark blue, most held weapons, some held torches.

“They must be in their best clothing,” Sip whispered. “They don’t look like fighters now. That’s just stupid.”

“Elzre must have been busy,” Lough mused. “Crazy pixie. She must be related to Camilla.”

As if to prove Lough’s point, Peds and Jett trailed past us in the procession of oggles. Both boys were in white shirts and britches and looked disgruntled.

I waved to them and Jett rolled his eyes. “As future Iron Chasers, we should wear gray,” he said, “but she didn’t have any gray. She doesn’t like the color gray. She also doesn’t like boys who don’t cut their hair.” He rubbed his hand over his newly shorn head as Peds shook with laughter, enjoying the misery his friend found in looking presentable.

“The point they want to make, that President Caid can no longer be president and that we must retake Public – it’s a big one,” I mused as we fell into line. From behind us Dobrov appeared, dressed all in black, with a high collar and slicked-back hair. I couldn’t get over how clear and unpainful his skin looked.

“You look splendid,” he said, smiling at me. “Really well done.”

“Yeah, I had a lot to do with it,” I muttered. In my left hand I held the two parts of the elemental crown, still wrapped in the cloth my mother had used all those years ago. I couldn’t help but notice that the parts hummed when they got close to each other. It gave me a burst of confidence that reminded me of family and loyalty and of why I fought, and it also gave me the strength to continue in a way that merely hating demons never could.

Dobrov chuckled. “Well, you look amazing. I don’t care why.”

I smiled a thank you to him, but then my eye was drawn back to the procession to the Circle and I knew I had to stay alert and present from this point forward.

Mrs. Swan waited for us on the edge of the clearing. To one side stood Rose; she and the other oggles had all washed their clothing or changed. They looked much cleaner, though still ogglish.

Rose smiled reassuringly as I passed. She had spent a lot of time telling Mrs. Swan what had happened to the oggles, but she had left the meeting unhappy. Mrs. Swan wanted the oggles to fight alongside her against darkness, while Rose said her people didn’t believe in fighting.