Maxon (4 page)

I shoot him a half-smile. For Franklin, this is as close as a declaration of love as I'm ever going to get.

“Thanks, Franklin. You've grown on me, too.” I gesture to the line of trees ahead. “I'm meeting Fisk for battle practice just past that ridge. Alone. I better go.”

“Please be safe, Lianna.” The little frog flies away, his tiny legs bouncing with the movement. Even after years of being an apprentice, that sight makes me smile.

I step through the trees to Ghoul Lake G24. Like all the bodies of water I've seen in the Dark Lands, this place is a single sheet of oily sludge. Time was, Namare would cleanse a lake like this with a wave of her hand. Someday, one of her apprentices will do that instead. My pulse quickens at the thought of rejuvenating ponds and invigorating oceans.

Forget it, Lianna.
Everyone knows you're the last choice for monarkki. Get your head back into battle training and managing you-know-who.

Right, Fisk.

I scan the shoreline. There's no one around.

I cup my hand by my mouth. “Fisk? Where are you?”

Still no one nearby.

I frown in confusion. Fisk is never late.

Beside me, the air turns blue with condensation. I exhale a relieved breath. Fisk's finally arriving in mist form.

Within seconds, the blue haze consolidates into the shape of a man who's tall and lean with long, sinewy muscles—the classic swimmer's build. Like most water elementals, Fisk's eyes are sea green, large, and haunting. His skin is porcelain with a faint hint of blue, the same coloring as his short, spiky hair. Today, he's wearing a black T-shirt with olive cargo pants. He looks in his early twenties, but you never know with elementals.

“Hello, Lianna.”

“Hey, Fisk.”

For a long moment, Fisk stares at me like I'm the most beautiful woman in the after-realms. I can't help it; I adore the attention. It's why I started dating Fisk in the first place. I'm a tall and sporty blonde who's more at home in battle gear than ball gowns. Fisk was the first guy to make me feel lovely.

“You're a vision,” he says in a husky voice.

“I'm wearing jeans, combat boots, and a Hello Kitty T-shirt. You're such a suck-up.”

He winks. “Doesn't make it less true.”

My neck starts to redden and I kinda hate myself for that. Fisk and I broke up for some really good reasons. Am I so isolated that one compliment from a hot guy makes me forget our nasty history?

Why yes, yes I am.

Fisk takes a cautious step closer. He's like a panther stalking his prey. “How's your latest safe house?”

“More of a cabin in the woods. It's safe enough.”

“You there alone?”

No question where this is going.
The first time Fisk and I hooked up, he was staying overnight to ‘protect' me.

“Always,” I murmur. “I can take care of myself.”

Crap.
In my head, that response was supposed to come out more kick-ass sounding. Instead, the delivery was a touch desperate. I hope he didn't catch that.

“You don't have to be alone, you know.” Fisk moves to stand in front of me. “Invite me over tonight.”

Oh, he caught that, all right.

“I can't, Fisk.”

“Come now, Lianna. We both know this break-up of yours won't last. We're meant to be together.” Fisk leans in closer. His breath cascades gently down my neck. “You'll always be my girl.”

And boom—that does it.

All signs of sexy blushing disappear as my hands ball into angry fists. This would be the side of Fisk that bugs the hell out of me. In fact, it's the main reason I broke up with him. The man has no listening skills. After everything I told him, how can he call me by that name?

“You know Silas used to call me his girl. I hate it.”

“Ah, but am I Silas?”

“Let me think.” I tap my boot dramatically. “No.”
No, you're not the Class A demon who kept me locked up as his slave for months.
“But you are a tool.”

“That's beside the point.” He winks in a way that's meant to be endearing. It's not. “I'm not Silas, and you'll always be my girl.”

“Keep calling me ‘your girl' and I'm out of here.”

He half rolls his eyes. “Saying that only reinforces my point.”

“And what's that, exactly?”

“You're threatening to miss out on battle training in order to satisfy a youthful and emotional whim. This is the heart of my argument. You're only twenty years old. That's far too young to know your own mind. You'll come around.”

And here's yet another item for the Why I Dumped Fisk file. He constantly treats me like an endearing doll instead of a grown and rather deadly woman. I take a few pointed steps away from him.

“I'm not coming around, Fisk. We've discussed this many times.”

“Hey, I've done as you asked. We're taking a break from the relationship.”

“It's not a break. We are over. O-V-E-R.”

In reply, Fisk leans back and laughs like I'm the most adorable pile of sweetness that he's ever seen. Time was, that laugh always got me gooey and lovey. Before I knew what was happening, I'd forgive Fisk with a long kiss. That was before. Now, I just want to start battle practice and knock his block off.

Multi-colored lights start flickering from the sinkholes, distracting me from my Fisk issues. I do a double-take in surprise. That can't be right. Maybe I got hit with an enchantment or something. It's happened before.

“Do you see that?” I ask.

Fisk's features turn unreadable. “Yes, those lights are elemental magic.”

“Is it Zephyr?” The last thing I need is that guy chasing me around.

“No, Lianna.” Fisk's eyes widen with sympathy. “It's something else entirely.”

A pang of worry goes through my heart. Fisk hardly ever gives me his sympathy eyes. Bedroom eyes, yes. ‘You're such a child' eyes, sure. But sympathy? Something huge must be going on.

“What's wrong?”

Fisk scrubs his hand over his face. “I don't know where to begin.”

“Just say it. Please.”

With a burst of brightness, the lights change. Instead of multiple colors, everything becomes sapphire blue. It's the hue of water elementals everywhere.

It's the shade of Namare.

My breath catches with a realization. Those lights? In that color? It can mean only one thing. The water elementals who live in the earth are weeping. Their bodies give off a light glow at all times—that's so they can see underground—but when they're grieving, the brightness goes off the charts. There aren't a lot of things that would get them so worked up. Losing a leader is one of them.

Please don't let it be Namare. It's too soon. She can't be dying.
“Is that what I think it is, Fisk?”

“I'm afraid so. You've never seen this phenomenon before?”

I shake my head.

Fisk gestures to the sinkholes. “These lights are shining through every pit in the after-realms. All non-humans will see it.”

“It's really happening, then.”

My Namare.

Memories flicker through my mind. First, I recall the beautiful, snow-capped mountains of my childhood home in Colorado. Our isolated log cabin had no neighbors, no phones, and no one to hear us scream when a Class A demon named Silas killed my parents and abducted me. I served Silas for months before Namare saved me. Next, my heart warms as I picture her plump figure and happy, wrinkled face. My throat tightens with grief. She can't be dying.

“Where's Namare?” I ask softly. “I have to see her.”

“She's finding a safe place to transfer her power to one of her apprentices.”

The words hang in the air, too terrible to be real. “How long until she's ready?”

“A few hours, maybe less. Walker will take you there when the time is right.”

I press my fingertips to my temples and think through this news. Walker's a ghoul who appeared in my life about five years ago. He finds me new safe houses to live and train in, which is no small feat considering that I have a homicidal maniac following me around. I nod once to myself. If Walker's in on this, then I trust the process.

“Okay, I can wait.” In the nearby sinkholes, the brightness intensifies. I need to focus on something else. “Let's start training.”

“As you command.”

Leaning over, Fisk rifles through his satchel and pulls out the Kristalli of Water. My breath catches with awe and excitement. Today, I practice with a sample of elemental power.

“Namare charged this up for you.” Fisk runs his finger along the length of the Kristalli. A pale blue light dances in its depths. “Let's try summoning the stone, shall we?”

I raise my hand and whisper an incantation. The Kristalli instantly flies onto my palm. The stone feels cool against my skin as I toss it from hand to hand.

“Easy peasy, Fisk.”

Go me.
We've been working on that move for months.

“Excellent. Now, let's review the process of transferring the power from the stone to the elemental parts of your soul. First, you—”

I grip the Kristalli tightly and whisper another incantation. Tiny prongs of rock dig into my palm. A rush of power hits my nervous system. As elemental energy enters my body, the stone turns dark.

“Another fine effort.” Fisk scans me from head to toe. I wonder if more bedroom eyes are coming my way. Nope. Instead, Fisk gives me one of his ‘I'm so disappointed in you' looks.

“Out with it, Fisk.”

“You've such strength, Lianna. Yet, you haven't the guts to admit that you're mine.”

“Wow, are you ever a dick.” I move into battle stance and conjure a long icicle in my right hand. It's about the length and width of a short-sword. “Come on and fight me.”

Fisk makes a tsk-tsk noise, which only angers me more.

“You sure you don't want to discuss this?” he asks. Fisk snaps his fingers and the Kristalli disappears. It's gone back to Namare, wherever she is.

“I wasn't done with that Kristalli,” I say slowly.

Okay, I was totally done with it.
I'm just tired of Fisk making decisions for me without asking.

“What a coincidence, I wasn't done with our conversation, either.” Fisk folds his arms over his chest. “Still don't want to talk?”

“Positive.” I toss my ice weapon from hand to hand. “And I said, fight me.”

Fisk keeps staring at me indulgently and not fighting. Every muscle in my body quivers with rage.

“Fine,” I say with a snarl. “You asked for it.”

Time to use my borrowed elemental powers.

I raise my ice-weapon high, pause, and then jam it deep into Fisk's chest.

At last, the guy snaps out of his funk and into instructor mode.

“That was a terrible strike, Lianna. You hit me at an angle.” He points to the top of the icicle sticking out of his sternum. “Now your weapon is cracked and unsuitable if it's required for another volley. You must use frozen instruments only for straight-on impalement.”

“Like this?” I conjure another icicle and stick it right into his belly. This one doesn't crack.

Fisk frowns. “That could sting, you know.”

“Eh, we both know it doesn't. Ice is water. And water can't cause pain to its own element.”

Fisk's mouth hardens into an angry line. He pulls both icicles out of his torso and tosses them into the lake. His flesh instantly closes over. Wish I could do that trick.

“Show me a projectile attack,” orders Fisk.

Some serious battle practice. Finally.

Raising my arms, I conjure a wall of bullets made of boiling-hot water. They hover in the air behind my shoulder for a moment. I grin, enjoying the calm before the strike. Lowering my arms, I send the weapons speeding toward Fisk. Loud zings fill the air.

This time, he's ready for me.

At the last second, Fisk's body changes into mist. The bullets pass harmlessly through him. When he reforms, a gloating look fills his big, sea-green eyes.

“You know what you did wrong back there?”

I punch my thigh in frustration. “Yup. I broadcasted my attack.”

“Precisely. I had time to change from solid form into mist. The same will be true for Zephyr. Remember, non-solid forms are extremely taxing. No one stays in them longer than absolutely necessary. You need to strike quickly and in unexpected ways. Catch Zephyr in his solid state. That's the only way to injure him.”

The word ‘catch' gives me an idea. I scan my internal power reserves. I've drained some of Namare's elemental energy, but enough remains for another attack. With a flick of my fingers, I summon a huge block of ice to entrap Fisk up to his neck.

“Like this, you mean?” I ask.

“Well done, Lianna.” Fisk laughs, then melts the ice into the lake. “Just don't try something like that right after you gain your monarkki powers. The abilities will be too new and you'll lack the finesse needed for a major attack.”

A chill runs through me, and it has nothing to do with the ice I conjured. Namare is dying. Someone will take her powers soon. Fisk guesses my thoughts.

“She could choose you,” says Fisk.

“She won't, Fisk. We both know that. And even if she did, I still need Water Valta magic to be crowned. You may like me well enough, but the rest of the Valta don't agree with you.”

“Not true. My men do like you.”

“They hit on me. There's a difference.”

Fisk frowns. It's like the thought of them actually coming onto me never really occurred to him.

Hell, maybe it didn't.

Fisk purses his lips. “And who did this, exactly?”

“All of them. They think I got my apprenticeship because you pulled strings with Namare.”

Fisk waves his hand dismissively. “That isn't what happened. You earned this apprenticeship.”