The Elementalists Read online

  But then he surfaced in the middle with a joyous yelp, and she found her breath again. Nothing had changed about the clearing—it was just as beautiful and inviting as it had been all summer long—and Kirin fit effortlessly against the backdrop.

  “The water is perfect!” he yelled. “You have to come in!”

  Chloe stepped tentatively toward the edge, picturing the way the whole surface had shifted with the unlikely rush of the powerful wave the day before. “The last time I got in, things got less perfect real fast.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked again to the decidedly unthreatening sky.

  She knelt on the rocks, wondering if the water level across the whole pond didn’t seem about a foot lower than it had been. Kirin was watching her as he swam closer. He climbed out on the rocks a few feet away and wrung the dripping water from his cargo shorts before flopping to the grass without any sign of self-consciousness. He had clearly spent a lot of time hanging around without a shirt on, and Chloe could definitely see why. Charlottesville didn’t have too many guys like him, or at least none that she’d encountered. She tried not to stare.

  “I didn’t mean to be pushy, making you come here,” he offered. “I didn’t really think about it before, but I suppose getting struck by lightning was probably pretty traumatic, huh?”

  Chloe shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so,” she mumbled, wondering if he would think she was even more of a freak if she told him what really happened here. “I don’t remember anything after the lightning hit, but the stuff I remember from just before was pretty…weird.”

  “Tell me,” he suggested.

  She glanced over, and her focus flashed from abs to eyes. He smiled. She blushed and cleared her throat. “I was here on Monday night, too, Labor Day, and all the fish were jumping across the pond. Then all these birds started to gather in the trees,” she motioned to the branches hanging above them. “Crows and sparrows and blue jays and a hawk: hundreds of birds that wouldn’t be together, just sitting there, watching the water.”

  Kirin raised an eyebrow, but it was too late to stop now.

  “And then after school yesterday, I was swimming, like you just were, and a storm came out of nowhere. The whole pond moved and a giant bubble of mud came up from below. And then there was a wave that carried me onto the shore, and rain, and lightning everywhere, and a huge fountain of water, and a…roar.”

  Kirin thinned his eyes to look at her. His smile had gone.

  “I don’t know; I can’t explain it. I just felt really small and helpless,” she stammered. “Whatever. Maybe Kendra’s right; maybe I’m just crazy and dangerous.”

  “That’s how I feel,” Kirin said, cutting her off before her defensive pity party could reach full bloom. “All these millions of people, trapped and dying in China—my grandmother, this eighty-year-old woman living by herself—and I can’t do anything to help, nothing to even contact her, just to let her know that I love her.” He glanced back to the pond and hugged his knees to his chest. “I feel useless…inconsequential. We go through all the motions and drama at school, or at home, and in the big scheme of things, none of it matters, you know?”

  Exactly! Chloe looked over and found him looking back, both of them just staring at each other as the breeze rustled the leaves above…

  “Is this where it happened, the lightning?” he asked, breaking the moment of pregnant silence.

  She motioned to the top of the hill. “No, it was up there. I was trying to make it home.”

  He looked over his shoulder at the slope and squinted into the sun. “Show me.”

  Minutes later, they were poking about the roots at the top of the hill, Kirin using his walking stick and Chloe her tattered old running shoes. He had, unfortunately, reclaimed his shirt as well, though Chloe now found it easier to focus on the mystery at hand. She wasn’t sure, but looking back down at the pond, she thought this was around where it had happened.

  “Look at this,” said Kirin, pointing to a deep crack of scorched wood in the tree above them. A major limb dangled to the ground, broken and burned, and the trunk was split almost to the base. He probed the wound with the end of his stick, and charred bark flaked off with every jab. “Good thing it hit this first, huh?”

  It was a sobering observation. The big oak had probably grown here for a hundred years, but it didn’t look long for the world now. Chloe stepped closer with her eyes set and mouth open, and tripped, stumbling straight into Kirin.

  He spun, dropped the staff, and caught her in one swift motion. Chloe scrambled to regain her feet, keenly aware of the feel of his supporting hands on her waist. She noticed her own hand pressed to his chest for balance. Their eyes met for a quick moment, and she stepped away with the tickle of goose bumps.

  “Sorry,” she swallowed.

  “What is that?” asked Kirin, looking over her shoulder.

  She turned back to see two indistinct lumps among the roots. They stepped closer and knelt down on either side of the find. The fabric and mesh were blackened and brittle, and the rubber of the soles had melted in places and fused together in a little puddle. The laces had burned away completely. The two shapes faced the pond, with the shiny “N” of New Balance still discernible on the right lump.

  Chloe must have somehow been blown clear out of them when the lightning had climbed up from the wet ground below. Looking at them and the tree, she could not fathom how she could have possibly survived.

  “My shoes.”

  • • •

  Ancient, sad eyes watched the two young humans as they moved back into the woods in the direction from which they’d come. The irises were the color of glacial ice and flickered with an internal spark. By contrast, the black pits in the center threatened to draw in and consume anything that looked too close. The unblinking gaze registered every subtle movement in the trees: each ant that scurried back and forth in its food-gathering line, every flutter of wing and shake of a tail, but they held focus on the inexplicable girl until she passed from sight beyond the ridge.

  The lids closed over. The watcher needed no eyes to follow. He could hear her thoughts of confusion and excitement from a great distance, having heard her even through water and earth and from beyond the wall of sleep. He did not understand it, but somehow she had drawn him out from the depths, capturing his far-drifting attention with the endless flow of her questioning mind and the hungry rhythm of her heart. She had startled him awake with her fury and strength, summoned him up to the world above with all of its beauty and sorrow. A human.

  He had not let her die as he knew he should when the lightning had come to claim her. He did not know why he had done it—healed her burns and breathed life back into her heart—allowing himself to be seen to take her to the human house of medicine. Though he had stripped her mind of the memory, it was forbidden to interfere on their behalf; it was against the laws of nature and the prophecy of those who had come before… But he could not allow her death, not yet.

  Long ago, other people had occupied this land, and their wise folk, with their smoke and drums, had looked on the mist-covered mountains where he dwelled with bowed heads and prayers. They wove stories of him around their cooking fires and passed them down to the young boys before they underwent the trials of manhood. They had treated the world with respect and honored the mighty Horned Serpents that protected it in their songs. But now, it seemed, he was to be a herald of doom and bringer of war. For the first time in centuries, unease crept into his thoughts.

  It was not in his nature to be afraid, but the world was not as his kind had left it. Beyond the woods, the land and air had become alien and sickly. Grumbling down the tar-stinking snake ways nearby or soaring through the sky overhead, the machines of men always encroached and threatened. He could smell the toxins in the soil and hear the constant buzz of the wires that crisscrossed the globe. It was as the prophecy had stated: the humans would pay for their indiscretion.

  But something had gone terribly wrong. It was still way too
hot; the air did not yet smell of frost and death as was foretold. He opened his lids and stared into the blazing sun through the branches—the alignment was wrong; it was still many days away from the Ascension, which would break the earth and blot the sky. The others remained asleep in their distant prisons, and until they woke, he would be vulnerable and alone.

  The girl had done this. He had to find out how. It was all that he had.

  Chapter 6

  Head Down and Mouth Shut?

  Kirin had neglected to warn Chloe that their new school might have an automated service that would call to notify her mother of her absence. But after seeing the shoes and grasping what could have been her fate, neither her two-week grounding nor Kendra’s continued smear campaign was enough to dampen the realization that Chloe was very lucky. In the weeks that followed, she kept her eyes on the floor as she walked the hallways by day, and she kept her nose in the books at night.

  She read every page of the assigned reading and then researched further on topics that seemed poignant or sparked her interest. She aced her first battery of quizzes, and her short papers in American Civics and English were “insightful” and “concisely argued, A+ work.” Without being showy and rarely raising her hand, Chloe made sure that the teachers took notice.

  She and Kirin continued their playful banter in the back of homeroom and then again deep in the recess of The Cave at lunch, but he, too, had been punished for ditching, and his father turned out to be a lot stricter than Audrey. In addition to the perfect attendance and good grades that Chloe had been tasked with, Kirin was also stripped of phone and car privileges and locked away at home by 4:00 p.m. every day.

  His argument for leniency was not aided by his continued refusal to join the swim team, whereas Chloe had negotiated her willingness to start cross-country practice as a means of two more hours of relative freedom per day. In truth, Audrey was so thrilled that her daughter had skipped school with the “cute senior” and had now joined a bona fide after-school elective that Chloe was pretty sure that she would have been granted a full furlough from her sentence if she’d only asked.

  Though she’d never admit it to Kirin, Chloe was glad for the two-week, semi-forced return to her old ways. The escape into books was reassuring after so much chaos. But thanks to the continued ill-timed exclamations by Stan and his stoner friends and the regular assault of bitchy comments from Kendra, the Lightning Girl nickname had stuck at school. A week after Chloe’s rash declaration of war to Liz, she found the words “For a good time, call Lightning Girl—SHE’S FAST,” along with her home number, scrawled in permanent marker inside the third stall of the girls’ first floor bathroom. Kirin confirmed that it had been repeated in every stall of the boys’ room just down the hall. She’d never even really kissed a boy, and yet now, only two weeks into high school, her name had become synonymous with slut… Awesome!

  At home, she could just be nerdy, overachieving Chloe again. But home had its own set of problems. Chloe had only seen Brent once since the hospital—through her bedroom window, engaged in a heated discussion with her mom in the front seat of his spit-shined cop car. Audrey had been quiet and mopey since, unwilling to talk about it, except to tell Chloe that she and Brent were “taking a break.” Despite the continued hot weather, the mood and feel of the house tended toward frosty.

  Chloe couldn’t help but feel partly responsible for the return of Audrey’s sadness. The same melancholy that had surfaced four times in the last six years at the end of each failed attempt at love—all stemming from the debilitating, year-long pit of depression that had claimed Audrey after Chloe’s dad had left.

  Chloe feared the woman that had taken over her mother then—bitter, distant, crying far more than laughing—and she still carried the anger of that eight-year-old girl, who had been forced to hold on for the emotional roller coaster that followed…

  But despite the minor blips here and there, things had been great between Chloe and her mom for years. This is nothing. There’s no way that Brent could be more than just another blip.

  She figured that as long as she stayed away from the pond, kept up the 4.0, and continued to excel in cross-country, Audrey would be okay. Brent would become nothing but the butt of an inside joke, as he deserved. I survived lightning! I can handle this.

  • • •

  It was two weeks from the day of her and Kirin’s mutual grounding. The solitary confinement would end that night, and Chloe wasn’t sure she was ready for freedom’s return in the morning. Of course, she would also be getting her monthly migraine any day now. Perfectly bad timing, yet again.

  Chloe had spent the better part of those two weeks fantasizing about whether Kirin would ask her to do something again, hoping he might call her as soon as his phone was returned to him. It was bordering on the obsessive. She spotted him at the usual table in the back of The Cave, but slowed her approach around the ferns as she noticed someone else occupying her chair.

  Cynthia Decareaux was a senior, Queen of the Stoners, and one of the few students at Charlottesville High, like Ezra Richardson, who was known to everyone. Why is she sitting across from Kirin?

  She was beautiful, and she used it well. Tall, laid-back, and blonde, she had a long history of storied relationships with now-graduated, older men. She always wore her hair in a loose ponytail, and the tips were dyed blue. Somehow, she actually made it look cool. She laughed as Kirin finished one of his stories and gave her his disarming smile.

  Uh-oh! Chloe’s heart started beating faster. She slowed her approach as she emerged from behind the potted foliage. Kirin waved her over, but Chloe noticed his smile change before she reached the table.

  “Hey, Chloe, this is Cynthia,” he offered as Chloe sat in the chair beside her. She reached out and met Cynthia’s hand for the shake. Her fingers were long and delicate, but her grip was strong. Cynthia eyed her appraisingly.

  “Chloe,” she said, as if testing the name. “Are you the sophomore who was struck by lightning?” she asked, still holding Chloe’s hand.

  Chloe nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  The senior released Chloe’s hand. Her green eyes were piercing and betrayed no emotion. “Is it true that your shoes melted together?”

  Chloe shot Kirin a glance. He responded with a guilty shrug. Cynthia was still waiting for more.

  “Yeah, I guess that when the electricity rose up from the wet ground, I was blown out of my shoes. I got lucky, but they didn’t fare so well.”

  “And you’re totally okay?”

  “Pretty much,” answered Chloe. “I don’t remember it too well, and my fingers and toes still get a little tingly when it rains, but other than that…”

  “That’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard!” Cynthia’s unflappable demeanor split into a gorgeous smile.

  “Thanks.” Chloe felt a little giddy, suddenly wanting this fabled girl to like her.

  “You know, when I was a sophomore, people wrote that I was a slut in the bathrooms, too,” Cynthia admitted. “Only difference is that with me it was true.” She gave Kirin a sly glance that Chloe would think about for days.

  I don’t stand a chance.

  “How do you know Kirin?” Chloe asked, trying to appear uninterested as she unpacked her peanut butter and honey sandwich.

  “AP Biology, we’re lab partners,” Cynthia answered with a casual smirk.

  “Next week we’re dissecting a cat,” added Kirin.

  “And I’m not amped about it,” continued Cynthia.

  “Which is why I’ll handle the surgery, and you’ll have to memorize the names of every stinking muscle and bone in its formaldehyde-soaked body,” finished Kirin with a chuckle.

  The two of them played off each other with an easy repartee that Chloe didn’t like. She nodded and hid behind her sandwich, deciding maybe she didn’t like Cynthia Decareaux after all.

  “Ugh!” Cynthia banged her head gently on the table for dramatic effect. “I’m gonna puke on that cat, I k
now it!” She turned to Chloe. “Honestly, Chloe, could you cut open a cat?”

  “I don’t know; I have a pet cat. But yeah, I guess I’d be kind of interested to see what it looks like inside, you know?” That came out wrong! She was getting flustered. “I mean, if it was already dead, and not my cat, obviously…just a cat in general…for school.”

  Kirin was laughing at her.

  “Jeez, that’s kind of twisted,” Cynthia said, joining in the mirth. “I like her,” she declared to Kirin. “What are you two doing tomorrow after school, or are you still grounded?”

  Chloe tried to exchange a conspiratorial glance with Kirin, but he was looking at Cynthia.

  “Nope, the two weeks are over tonight,” he announced.

  “Me and some friends are going to go hang out at this cool retro diner called Positive Pete’s, if you want to come?” She unbound the elastic on her ponytail and let the blue tips drop forward across her face before flipping her head back with expert grace. She eyed Kirin as she retied it tighter.

  Kirin glanced at Chloe and then back, “Yeah, that could be good.”

  “What about you?” Cynthia asked Chloe. “It’s got a great jukebox and amazing milk shakes…and Stan is going to be there. I think he likes you,” she whispered.

  Chloe felt the heat of a blush bloom across her face. Great!

  “I can’t,” she admitted. “I have cross-country practice until five thirty. We’re running ten miles tomorrow.”

  “Well, you should come by afterward. We usually hang out there for a while,” Cynthia finished, standing from her chair. “It was nice to finally meet you, Chloe—good to put a face to the legendary Lightning Girl.” She smiled again, and the gleam of her teeth could fry an egg. The smile shifted to Kirin. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, Cat Killer.”