Read Elemental Release Page 7


  “Gabby,” I sighed before thinking. My stomach tightened, but Rusk motioned for me to continue. I wasn’t used to talking about my feelings, and I took a moment to clear my throat. “She’s the last thing on my list, sir.”

  “And how are things going?”

  “Okay, I guess,” I said. “She invited me to stay at her place, so that’s good. It’s progress, at least.”

  “Do you trust her?” he asked.

  “Explicitly.”

  “But she doesn’t trust you.”

  My shoulders felt heavy. With all the progress I’d made over the past couple of months, I’d felt lighter in both body and spirit. But this still felt like too much to carry. I shook my head. “No, sir. I don’t think she does.”

  “She will,” he said. “Give it more time.”

  I nodded, knowing he spoke wisely. Still, I felt like I needed to make things right immediately. Let go of what you can’t control, I told myself. I looked up. “Okay, so what’s the task this morning?”

  My mentor grinned, but it held a wicked tilt. “Grip the jet stream, tame it, and break it into pieces.”

  I looked into the sky, wishing the act of completing his request could be done as easily as speaking it.

  I could find the jet stream easily now. It roared like thunder through the atmosphere, on a path only it could find and follow. “That’s not true,” Rusk whispered in my ear. “As an Airmaster, you can make the jet stream follow the path you want it to.”

  I ignored him as I listened to the air in the stream. It loved to soar, wild through the sky. I did too.

  The air sang when it found my presence lurking, and the currents on the ground whipped around my body. I took more time listening to the jet stream, trying to find its core. With my eyes pressed closed, I finally found the absence of sound—the eye of the madly rushing currents.

  I inserted my power there, seizing the calm air as the violent stream flowed by. I pushed the jet stream down, down, down through the atmosphere until I could physically grab it. A shrieking whistling noise filled the space around me; my clothes flapped in the fierce wind.

  But I held on. I felt euphoric—I’d gripped and moved the jet stream!

  I heard Rusk’s voice, soft as a whisper, enter my ears. “Nicely done, Airmaster. Tame it. Listen to it, and coax it into doing what you want it to do. Remember, you’re in control here.”

  I’m in control, I’m in control , I chanted mentally.

  My body bucked as the stream tried to free itself and reinsert itself where it belonged. The air was too powerful to be this close to the earth, and everyone and everything within five miles knew it.

  I squinted into the darkening atmosphere, seeing the almost black rope of the stream as it punctured the blue sky around it. The few late fall plants that hadn’t shriveled yet laid flat against the ground—which was exactly how I felt I should be positioned to work with this jet stream.

  “Tame it,” Rusk said again, this time more urgency in his voice.

  I’m trying! I thought.

  I forced all other thoughts out of my mind. Using the skills I’d gained as I meditated, I cleared the distractions, both physically and mentally.

  The stream weakened, whether by my own calm center or because it simply couldn’t fight forever, I didn’t know. I loosened my hold just a fraction, whispering the soothing words Hanai used to say to an animal after a kill. I didn’t know exactly what they meant, but it didn’t matter. I’d felt my own soul quiet when Hanai chanted.

  The air responded to my words, slithering through my fingers like warm water. I almost heard it respond to me, but the slippery rush of syllables got swallowed by the enormous sound of a landslide.

  My grip slipped.

  The air pulsed, jerking to get free.

  I lost control at the same moment Airmaster Rusk yelled.

  I felt myself falling, falling, falling.

  The stream roared in triumph before everything went still and silent.

  I opened my eyes. Above me, the sky swirled with purple, blue, and black. The bruised affect wasn’t lost of me as I rubbed my elbow, which had struck rock when I’d fallen.

  I regained my feet to find Airmaster Rusk holding the stream with one hand. He smiled at it; his mouth moved. He released the stream and it went happily back to its place high above the clouds.

  “Well done,” he said, but I tightened my jaw and watched the last of the stained sky turn blue again.

  I hadn’t done well, and I didn’t want to hear him say I had. I’d fought with the air, used a method not prescribed in my training, and fallen on my face.

  Two days before Liz was set to leave Rhyss, I completely missed my morning class. I didn’t hear Gabby shower, kiss me, or leave—our now-usual routine. I didn’t move until Rusk put his icy hand on my head.

  “Are you ill?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and moaned. “Tired,” I mumbled. I’d been up for most of the night for the past six weeks. Waiting for Liz’s messages, translating them if necessary, transcribing them, and then going over the data with Gabby had drained me.

  And if I was tired, Gabby was the walking dead. I didn’t know how she kept going. My body simply wouldn’t.

  “I’ll expect you tomorrow,” he said, and I muttered something. I still hadn’t been able to control the jet stream, though I could find it and bring it under my power within seconds now. I didn’t want to get out of bed for at least another day. Especially since winter had hit Tarpulin harder than usual this year, even going so far as sending snow flurries through the city.

  I vaguely heard the door close before I settled deeper into my bed and fell back asleep.

  That night, Liz’s message began with “The weather in Rhyss is windy.”

  “Hold,” I instructed the air as I stood. I’d been sitting with a pencil gripped in my hands, ready to transcribe as quickly as I could. It had become a routine.

  “What?” Gabby asked.

  “That’s her code sentence for ‘I’m worried about something.’” The air current zipped around the room happily, unaware of the potentially upsetting message it was carrying.

  “Continue,” I told it. “Slowly.”

  “Plans to leave the city are in place. We leave at dawn the day after tomorrow. I should be home in two weeks.”

  I glanced at Gabby, who shrugged. Her travel plans going as expected wasn’t concerning news.

  “However, another Airmaster has arrived in the city. We haven’t seen him, but Airmaster Gold can feel him. The Councilman has his sentries looking.”

  The message paused, and my heart rippled in the silence. I didn’t dare breathe in case of I missed Liz’s next words.

  “The consensus is that the Airmaster is Theodore Wellington. Councilman Midstone would like Davison to know immediately.” I held up my hand as someone started for the door. The air message wasn’t finished yet. If it was, it would’ve already left.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you that we’re taking the train to Tarpulin. I’ll see you in two weeks. Hopefully the weather will be good.” The air whistled away, rattling the glass as it left.

  “What does that mean?” Gabby asked. She knew all the weather sentences indicated mood.

  “She’s worried, and so is everyone in Rhyss.” I ran my hands through my hair. “They aren’t taking the train, because that wouldn’t take two weeks. Or maybe they are taking the train…I don’t know.” I swallowed, trying to reason through what her coded message meant. We’d never discussed using the railway as code. But she obviously wouldn’t be taking the train—she’d be home in only a few days if they did that.

  “Someone must’ve been listening to the message,” I muttered to myself. “Maybe it was altered? Maybe she was trying to throw off anyone who intercepted it?” I glanced up at Gabby, who only stared back.

  I headed toward the door. “Let’s go tell Davison.”

  Davison paced in his cavernous office. He hadn’t spoken since we’d arrived and I’d
given him the report from Liz. The hour was getting late, but no one from my Council left. Airmaster Rusk had joined us on the way over to the fortress, somehow knowing everything from the air. I suspected that he could do more than read minds.

  He glanced at me, then inclined his head toward Davison, who was now considering a table-sized map. My mentor’s meaning was clear.

  “Sir?” I stood, and everyone looked at me. Gabby’s stare felt particularly heavy. “Perhaps Airmaster Rusk and I should head to Rhyss tonight.” The thought made my muscles quiver with exhaustion, but I pressed forward. “I believe the situation is more dire than Liz could say.”

  He kept his gaze on the map for a moment longer, then lifted his head slowly. He looked to my right, where Airmaster Rusk had moved silently. I appreciated him standing by me, and as a rush of gratitude filled me, I felt like we presented a united front.

  “Peter?” Davison said.

  “If Airmaster Gillman believes we should go, I trust his instinct.” I didn’t glance at Rusk, but I wanted to gape at him. He’d never addressed me as Airmaster Gillman. It was always Adam or Mr. Gillman.

  Buoyed in my confidence, I refused to look at Gabby who had stepped to my left. “We need to go.”

  “I’ll go too,” Gabby said.

  “No,” I said quickly. I pinned her with my eyes, silently begging her to stay here. I couldn’t stand the thought of her in harm’s way, especially up against someone as powerful as Theo. “We don’t want this to seem like an offensive move. Sending a Firemaker will feel predatory to Theo.”

  “Adam—”

  “Gabby,” I said.

  Davison held up his hand to prevent our argument. “Councilman Kilpatrick, I cannot spare a Firemaker.” He exhaled. “I cannot spare two of my best Airmasters either, for that matter.” He paced away again, his fingers worrying the hair on the back of his head.

  “Sir?” I asked when the silence had stretched so thin I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “You must go,” he said. “Leave as soon as you’re ready.”

  Gabby didn’t say anything back in her apartment. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching me as I tucked my spare set of boots in my pack. I knew she had a lot on her mind, but she wasn’t saying anything out loud.

  “Well,” I said. “I guess that’s it.”

  “I don’t see why you can’t wait until the morning.”

  I sat on the bed with my back to her, looking into the bathroom. “If it was you out there, traveling across the open prairie, I wouldn’t have wasted time to pack. Liz is our Unmanifested, and she’s my friend.” My throat narrowed. “If I can help her, I’m going to.”

  I closed my eyes in a long blink, hoping Airmaster Rusk could get his hands on some hot coffee. I’d been tired before receiving Liz’s message.

  I stood as Gabby scrambled toward me. I saw the fear in her eyes before she flung herself into my arms. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

  “Everything will work out,” I said, something my brother used to say to me.

  “I know that, I do. It’s just that I love you, and I’m so worried something will happen to you out there.”

  I stiffened, though I wanted to hold her forever. I pulled back so I could see her face. “Did—?”

  “Yes, okay?” She laughed at the same time tears spilled from her eyes. “I love you.”

  Though my stomach felt twisted, a smile formed on my face. “I love you too.” I kissed her, wishing she hadn’t confessed her feelings for me only five minutes before I needed to leave.

  Airmaster Rusk interrupted us as he rapped on the balcony door. I could barely see him because of his black robes. I pulled on my set of robes, shouldered my backpack, and kissed Gabby again.

  “I’ll be back soon, okay?” I wiped her tears. “I promise.”

  I sent little currents ahead of us as scouts. They returned every five minutes, bringing nothing sinister. Rusk and I soared over the land, each of us using our own cushion of air. I huddled into myself, my robe pulled as tight as possible to keep the icy air from assaulting my neck and shivering down my back.

  We flew hundreds of feet above the earth so we wouldn’t be detected. I could see for miles and miles, but only darkness blanketed the horizon. Not knowing what lay ahead unsettled me.

  I thought of Gabby, of her glassy eyes. Of the way she pulled on her hair and lifted one hand into a farewell while trying to give me a brave smile. I heard her words over and over. Yes, okay? I love you.

  By the time dawn chased away the night I’d found my center. Fear and worry wouldn’t help anything, and I needed to be strong to help Liz, to get home to Gabby.

  “Airmaster Gillman, I believe you are ready for this,” my mentor said. He nudged his cushion closer and handed me a thick slice of dark bread. Then he produced a cup filled with coffee. It was cold, but I didn’t care. I needed to be awake and alert today.

  “Thank you,” I said. “He will not come without a fight.”

  Rusk considered the sky. “No, probably not. But Rhyss has a Council, and trained sentries.”

  I nodded, but familiar worry gnawed at my insides. Theo could take down Councils and sentries. He had the forces of Mother Nature at his command, and he certainly knew things I didn’t. He knew how to invoke fear, use his power to bind and torture. If anything, Alex only chose those Elementals who had a sinister streak.

  I knew that was why she commanded Isaiah to bury the Academy during his field trials. She wanted to see if he’d do it—and if he liked it. I hadn’t realized the depth of her intelligence, but I knew every one of her Councilmembers had done something as equally appalling as killing thirteen hundred innocent people—just to prove to her that they could, and would.

  Wondering what Theo had done occupied most of the day. By nightfall I glimpsed the city lights of Hesterton to the west, and I knew we were close. My soul ached to return to that mountain city, to find the peace I’d had there during my vacation.

  Airmaster Rusk glanced at me. “Davison will apprentice you in any city you request,” he said.

  I shot him a startled look.

  He folded his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. I should not have read your thoughts. I have been trying not to these last few days.”

  “But you still can,” I said. “Which means I have not mastered my Element.”

  Rusk hummed. “But your thoughts have been dimmer lately. Harder to pluck from the mind.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re calm, in control, centered.” I caught his smile through the last rays of light as night fully descended. “It means you are ready for this final test.”

  I leaned away from his voice, shocked. “This is a test?”

  “All assignments are,” he said. “I have passed many. A few, I have failed.”

  The pitch of his air current changed, deepening as he began to shoot toward the earth. “Come,” he called. “We must sleep tonight.”

  I riddled through what assignments Airmaster Rusk could’ve possibly failed. He never showed emotion beyond encouragement. He always presented himself as the emblem of patience and calm energy, with complete control over himself and the air.

  I touched down next to him, my legs giving out. He wobbled for only a moment before offering me his hand to help me stand. I took it, and we set out walking.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  The half-moon had joined the sky, but the real light emanated from a small village about a mile south of us. “Just north of Quail Run, I’d guess.” I turned my attention north. “Which means Rhyss is only a few hours by train.”

  “And we’ll be on it by midnight,” Rusk promised. “We need to make sure Liz and her company are safely away, and they leave in the morning.”

  “They’re not taking the train,” I said. I’d gone over her message countless times. “It wasn’t a slip. She was planning to be back in Tarpulin in two weeks. The train was a diversion.”

  Airmaster Rusk nodded his appro
val. “I believe you are right, Airmaster Gillman.” He suddenly stopped to listen, holding up his hand for me to do the same. I heard the grumbling of the train as he did.

  “Come,” he said. “Let’s fly.”

  Being on a train, my back pressed into cold metal as Rusk and I shared a meager meal, reminded me of my flight south with Gabby, Hanai, and Isaiah. The fatigue I felt now, though, was only physical. Then, I’d been trying to heal Hanai, trying to keep Gabby with me, trying to figure out how to charter my Council and pacify Alex.

  I’d needed to do both. My life depended on both. I sighed and leaned my head against the vibrating car. Leave the past in the past, Airmaster Rusk had counseled me many times. As I drifted to sleep, I dismissed the thoughts of what I’d done last winter.

  The slowing of the train woke me, and I jostled Rusk awake. We stood and waited near the door for the train to stop. The station at Rhyss was located right next to the road. Though dawn would not arrive for another hour, workers packed the platforms and began working to load wheat into the hoppers.

  Rusk and I slipped from the caboose and into the darkness of the train yard. He sent an air current away with the code word for Airmaster Gold, and after only a few minutes, we received back a location.

  We arrived at the nondescript house just as the sun crested the hills to the south. Rusk knocked four times, paused, and knocked four more times. The door opened and we hurried inside.

  “Adam!” Liz hugged me fiercely, her grip strong, her body wiry. Life in Rhyss had not been as good to her as it had in Tarpulin. When she stepped back, I saw she’d lost some weight in her face. Her hair had been cut like a man’s, and she wore all black. If she didn’t have the softness in her eyes, the slight plumping in her chest, I would’ve thought her a sentry.

  I pulled her to the side, a strong sense of relief singing through me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Things have been escalating though. A tornado touched down outside of town yesterday afternoon. It destroyed a third of the wheat stores.”