The Elementalists Page 13

  “Okay,” Audrey said, backing off, “but you know you can talk to me about anything.”

  Yeah, wanna bet? “I know it, Mom. I love you.”

  “Good night, honey,” said Audrey as she snuggled back into the cushions and shut her eyes again.

  Chloe dropped off the mug in the sink and downed a big glass of water before retreating to her room as quickly as she could. Though she wanted to block out that last heartbreaking image of Kirin and pretend that the disastrous party had never happened, she was equally determined to hold on to every subtle detail of her dreamy encounter with the…dragon? For some reason, in that moment, she felt like her life depended on it.

  The Iron King

  A solid ball of iron the size of the moon spins at the center of the world. Over time, iron crystals form and melt at its edges, pulled from and returning to the molten ring of metal that surrounds it. Swimming in that ring, in an eternal spiral dance that helps to govern the magnetic fields above, is mighty Ogun.

  He had carried many names and visages throughout his eleven thousand years, but some of the people of West Africa and the islands of the Caribbean still called him Ogun and made offerings in his honor. This was the name he liked best. Even from miles below he heard them chant; he smelled the cigars they lit for him and could almost taste the rum they spit over the clay and shell statues they’d made. It pleased him to know their continued respect, and sometimes he still blessed them with the power of his will in their bodies, making them invulnerable to pain as long as they danced and writhed to the thundering beat of his heart.

  He almost felt bad that they, too, had to die, but he longed to climb up from this elemental prison and reclaim the iron that their kind had leached from the land. He would collect all that rightly belonged to him, take back from their buildings and bridges so that he might finally build a nest worthy of his presence above. For centuries, he’d been designing it in his dreams.

  Perhaps he’d keep some of the devoted to work in his mines and sing his songs. Perhaps he would make all those who stood in his path slave in the smiths of the Master of Metal. He would claim their greatest city and build a house the likes of which the world had never seen, and no dragon, man, or beast would dare pass through the domain of mighty Ogun without his consent or wrath.

  A deep, rolling laugh billowed out from his gut as bubbles of boiling metal rose toward the mineral ceiling, working their heat and pressure through the cracks and fissures that fed the pools of magma above. Soon all the people of the land would know his name, and all would cower before the coming of his fury.

  Chapter 11

  Getting Schooled

  Chloe felt like death the next morning, but managed to play it off until Audrey left for her first of two back-to-back shifts at Positive Pete’s. For once, Chloe was glad that her mom wasn’t around. After popping three Advil and chugging two glasses of water, Chloe rattled off a quick text apology to Ezra, and another checking in to make sure that Stan was neither dead nor in jail. Then she tossed her phone in the laundry basket with the intent to shut herself off completely from the outside world. She claimed her mom’s vacated spot on the sofa, got a huge bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, and settled in for a day of vapid channel surfing. It didn’t work.

  What little sleep she’d finally found in the early morning hours had offered some distance from the previous night’s trial. Again, the whole thing was beginning to seem increasingly foggy and dreamlike, and she reminded herself that drugs and alcohol had been at the heart of the freak events that had occurred… But this time, real or not, the terror and exhilaration of facing off with a legendary creature had left a mark that did not so easily fade. She couldn’t shake the last image of its towering, perfected form, the touch of its surprisingly smooth scales, or the disturbing sensation of its presence in her mind. She felt privileged and violated at the same time.

  And she remembered now that she’d seen it before, had even researched the surprisingly universal mythology that fit the beast’s description. She recalled the bone-quivering sound of its roar, the absurdity of the Tipping Point Prophecy, and the strange man that had been watching through the hail storm. It didn’t make sense. How could I have forgotten any of it?

  Later that afternoon, she would give up on television and pace the house like a caged animal, glancing out the windows at every chance and trying not to read some paranoid connection between the coming of the dragon and the constant string of world atrocities that occupied every news channel she flipped by. Kilimanjaro was about to erupt, threatening the lives of hundreds of thousands of already starving refugees along the border of Tanzania. The floods across the American Midwest had begun to reach epic proportions as day seventeen of active “Disaster Zone” status was blazoned across the screen with dramatic red highlights. And the ongoing relief efforts in Xining, China had taken a further hit when a powerful aftershock leveled the makeshift hospital that had been set up by the Red Cross in city center.

  And those were just the new, big, and sexy stories; there was no more mention of the chronic mudslides in Brazil, the ongoing toxic leak in the Gulf of Mexico, or the water riots that had consumed large swaths of Africa and Southern Asia. War and tragedy had become so commonplace that after a week or so, no one bothered to talk about it any more. Someplace, far away from here, people are fighting and dying—the end… In other news: NATURE WANTS TO KILL YOU!

  But Chloe couldn’t accept that. Try as she might, she couldn’t bury her head in MTV, video games, or online like she was supposed to. She couldn’t make herself feel better by shopping or eating something fattening, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to be drinking or trying drugs again anytime soon.

  Against all reason or understanding, she’d seen a dragon, and it had saved her life—twice. If this wasn’t the end of the world, it was at least the end of the world as she knew it. She needed to know more.

  • • •

  The libraries at the University of Virginia comprise one of the oldest and most comprehensive collections of research material held by any state institution in the nation. In addition to active students, faculty, and alumni, the stacks are available to a select group of community representatives from greater Charlottesville. Only a lucky few have been awarded a magnetic-coded picture ID after demonstrating a consistent devotion to scholarly pursuit. Community reps have full access to reading materials seven days a week before 7:30 p.m., if older than the age of sixteen or accompanied by a qualified adult. Throughout the history of the university, there have been only a few exceptions to this rule.

  Chloe McClellan had been given her own unaccompanied full-access pass at the age of thirteen. On the Sunday after the party, she took two buses and then walked the rest of the way to the main library branch with a hurried step. She had made this journey at least once a week for two years and had only been awarded the privilege after the countless times she had written pleading letters and then stubbornly shown up without permission in the years prior. All the library staff and security personnel, as well as a handful of deans and the school president, knew her name.

  “Hey, Chloe, having a good Sunday?” called Maurice, the security guard, as she swung open the front door of the main branch.

  “Pretty good, I’ve got some reading to do.” She unzipped the pocket of her backpack to retrieve her pass.

  “Haven’t seen you as much since you started high school.” He put down his Sudoku book and pen.

  “Yeah, I joined the cross-country team, but term paper season is coming up,” she answered with a hint of genuine glee.

  Maurice chuckled as Chloe swiped the card over the scanner and the little plastic gate swung open. “How’s Shipwreck doing?” he asked, as always, since the initial consultation on the cat’s rehab.

  “He’s getting fat, but he’s still a terror.”

  “Well, you tell him I said hi,” he said with a nod. “And remember, don’t take any wooden nickels.”

  “I’ll never forget,” she said
over her shoulder.

  Chloe beelined it to the information desk. Yvette was staring at a computer screen behind the counter while typing at a breakneck pace. Chloe stepped up to the desk. “How’s the book coming?”

  Yvette looked over while her fingers finished banging out a last few words. “Page 262; this stuff writes itself.”

  “Getting good?” asked Chloe.

  “Oh, yeah, it’s hot, getting real steamy now.”

  “What title did you decide on?” asked Chloe.

  “I got a new one. What do you think of, Sux in the City?” she asked with big eyes and a sheepish smile. “It says it all, right? Exclusive coven of four sexy vampire girls living in an after-hours world of high fashion and hot blood in the big city… What’s not to like?”

  “It’ll be a scorcher,” Chloe said with a smile.

  Yvette swiveled over to face another monitor. “What’ll it be today?”

  Chloe swallowed. “Chinese mythology, actually.”

  Yvette started typing. A second later, she said, “There’s a lot. Do you just want all the general anthologies or do you have anything more specific?”

  Chloe thought for a moment, nervous to proceed. “Dragons,” she mumbled. “How about Chinese dragons…and prophecies.”

  “Interesting.” Yvette’s fingers flew across the keys again. “Okay, that’s better. There’re still a lot of titles here, but only a few really specialize.” She clicked the mouse and her brow furrowed. “Oh, but it looks like those are pretty much all checked out,” she noticed. “Sorry about that.” She clicked again. “A few of them are also available online if you want to wait for a computer,” she suggested, motioning to the crowded bank of computers in the center of the room. Every station was occupied by a student, and there was a waiting line beside the sign-up sheet already seven students long.

  Chloe’s face sank.

  Yvette leaned across the desk. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but they’re all checked out by the same guy,” she whispered. “He’s an adjunct professor here—Dr. Edward Liou.”

  “What does he teach?”

  “Asian Studies or something; he’s in the anthropology department. Nice guy. I hear he’s really good.” She glanced back at the computer with a conspiratorial little smirk. “And he’s got office hours right now, if you’re interested?”

  • • •

  Chloe knew the way to the anthropology department without needing to ask. She’d spent the better part of the previous spring lingering around the Brooks Hall building during her stint as an amateur collector of Native American arrowheads and pottery shards, which she’d had an uncanny ability to uncover in her explorations of the local woods.

  Liz had been along for part of that adventure, though she’d never shown a real knack for the pursuit so much as being caught up in Chloe’s contagious enthusiasm. Of course, by the end of that May, Liz had begun to distance herself from Chloe’s shifting passions altogether, and by June, their failed anthropological quest had, for Chloe, become the symbol of their dying friendship.

  Chloe allowed herself only a moment of nostalgic regret before she bounded up the front stairs and entered the Victorian Gothic structure. A skinny guy with a lazy beard and glasses sat behind a little counter, reading a book. His eyes flitted up and tracked her as Chloe waved and tried to keep going. “Can I help you?” he asked with more authority than necessary.

  Chloe stopped and turned back with her best smile. She flashed her ID. “Sorry, I used to come here a lot and I forgot…”

  The pinch-faced grad student just looked at her.

  “Is Ms. Shaw here?” Chloe asked hopefully, knowing that Ms. Shaw would vouch for her presence.

  “I don’t know who Ms. Shaw is,” he said unhelpfully. “Are you a student here?”

  “No, I go to Charlottesville High School.” She pointed in the general direction of school. “I just come here sometimes to use the libraries and do research. I have a community access pass.”

  He kept looking at her but seemed to be too bored to respond.

  “I’m here to see one of the professors?” she suggested.

  “Which one?” he barked.

  “Dr. Edward Liou?”

  “Yeah, he’s here; I’m one of his TAs,” he declared proudly.

  “Cool,” she said… “Does that mean I can go see him?”

  “Is he expecting you?” he challenged.

  “Uh, no, I was just hoping to stop by for his office hours…”

  “Okay. But you’re going have to sign in,” he finally said as he swung around a ledger and clicked a ballpoint pen.

  Chloe stepped back to the counter and reached her hand out for the pen, half afraid that he might snap at her fingers like an unpredictable little dog. She signed her name in the book and scribbled the coded number of her ID beside it, taking note of the other two names in the ledger above hers.

  Chet Swanburg: #123637 9:14 a.m.

  Dr. Edward Liou +1: #288362 10:02 a.m.

  “Thanks, Chet,” she said as politely as she could before turning away and heading for the stairs.

  “Sure,” he looked at the ledger, “Chloe.” He said her name with a nasally whine while wondering why he had to waste his precious time and intellect dealing with immature little girls. “Up the stairs, end of the hallway, fourth door on the left.”

  Chloe walked up the stairs, rolling her eyes. She wondered if all the students at college were so rude, or if the world would even be around long enough for her to find out. She crested the stairs and strolled down the hallway, trying to plan her approach to the next conversation. She stopped at the fourth open door on the left and peeked in.

  An attractive Chinese man in his forties sat behind a desk laden with books. He wore black-framed glasses that made him look smart and stylish at once. The beginning of distinguished grey was peppered through his hair. Chloe’s eye immediately fell on a gold dragon banner that hung on the wall behind him. He did not look up from his book until she rapped gently on the door.

  “Hello there,” he said with an instant smile. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Usually no one stops by for my office hours, especially on Sunday morning.” He sat up and closed the book. “Let me guess, either you didn’t like the grade I gave you on the midterm, or you have to drop the class due to an unforeseen scheduling conflict?”

  Chloe gripped the straps of her backpack tightly and stepped into the room, unsure how to begin. “No, I just wanted to ask you a couple questions about…ancient Chinese mythology?”

  His brow furrowed. “Are you in my class?”

  “No, I don’t actually go to school here yet. I’m still in high school. I’m just interested in the topic and wanted to find out some things I hadn’t been able to find in the books or online,” Chloe offered hesitantly.

  “That has got to be the most refreshing thing I’ve heard in a long time!” His easy smile returned, and for a moment, something about it seemed oddly familiar. “I’m Edward,” he offered, along with his hand.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Chloe,” she responded with a curt little handshake.

  “Take a seat,” he suggested, motioning to the chair across from him. “Ask away, Chloe, and we’ll see if I’m worth my salt as a professor here.”

  Chloe sat and swallowed, afraid he was going to think she was a crackpot. “Well, have you ever heard of something called the Tipping Point Prophecy?”

  His eyes bulged in surprise, and then he burst into a raucous laugh.

  Chloe sank lower in the chair as he pounded his fist on the desk with an echoing hoot. She wondered if she should get up and go.

  “Who put you up to this? Professor Jones? Or was it Amanda Freed?” he demanded, still laughing. “Very well-played.”

  Chloe was profoundly uncomfortable. “No, I just read a brief mention about it online and wondered if you might know more,” she said meekly. “I tried to look it up at the library, but all the books were checked out.”

  He stopped laughing gr
adually and wiped his eyes. “Oh… You’re serious? Really, you’re here on your own?”

  Chloe nodded.

  “That’s remarkable! I’m sorry; it’s just that the Tipping Point Prophecy is a fairly obscure Chinese text that I happen to be writing an article on for Anthropological Quarterly—maybe even a book. A number of my colleagues have already offered some rather harsh criticism of my efforts,” he admitted. “I’m not laughing at you at all. In fact, I’m a little bit amazed that you’re here. I haven’t been able to find anyone else who actually cares.”

  “So it’s a real thing?” Chloe persisted, realizing then how much she wished that it wasn’t. “The bronze cauldron where the prophecy was inscribed is an actual artifact?”

  Dr. Liou looked impressed. “You’ve come to the right place. Oh, yes, it’s very real,” he said excitedly before scrambling through the papers on his desk and uncovering a series of photographic scans that showed a round-bellied, three-legged cauldron. He spread them out across his desk for Chloe to see. The bronze had turned a sickly green/black with age and was covered with complex Chinese calligraphy interwoven with sinuous engravings of spiraling, interconnected dragons. The cauldron legs ended in savage, clawed feet that reminded Chloe of what she’d seen tearing through the street only a couple nights before.

  “These photos were taken in 1978, but the cauldron still exists in a private collection today,” Dr. Liou said. “It’s called the Tianlong Cauldron, or Cauldron of the Celestial Dragons, and it carbon dates back to around 850 BCE, which would place it in early Western Zhou Dynasty. It’s a fairly typical example of a bronze Ding cauldron for that period, but there is nothing typical about what it says.” Dr. Liou glanced at the photos the way a father might stare at his newborn baby. “No one knows who made it, but it was found in a sealed cave by a Belgian Archaeologist in 1956.”