Elemental Hunger
Author: Elana Johnson
Date: 2014-06-09 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Young Adult; Dystopia; Science Fiction; Epic Fantasy
Description: The second installment in the Elemental series, a new futuristic fantasy for young adults and new adults from acclaimed author Elana Johnson, ELEMENTAL HUNGER is a full-length novel that continues the story that began in ELEMENTAL RUSH, an Elemental novella. Sixteen-year-old Gabriella Kilpatrick can shoot fire from her hands, which would be great if she didn’t get blamed for a blazing inferno that kills 17 schoolmates. When Gabby is commanded to Manifest her Element, everyone knows what she is: a genetic abnormality. Not to mention guilty. So she does two logical things to survive. 1. She runs
Publisher: AEJ Creative Works

Other Books by Elana Johnson

YA dystopian romance:

0.5: Resist (free)

1.0: Possession

1.5: Regret

2.0: Surrender

3.0: Abandon

YA/NA dystopian fantasy - Elemental series:

0.5: Elemental Rush

1.0: Elemental Hunger

1.5: Elemental Release

YA contemporary romance:

Elevated

Something About Love

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Gold sparks twirled in the air, putting on a show. They blinked and escaped the oven, shooting high above my head. I envied them. See, in Crylon, my life consisted of cooking, cooking, and more cooking.

Unless I could get chosen for a Council. Of course, to do that I’d have to masquerade as an Unmanifested, but that would be better than—

“Gabriella.”

At the sound of the cook’s voice, I pulled my attention from the flames and said, “You can go ahead. I can finish here.” The chime had sounded ten minutes ago; the selection ceremony would begin soon. If the cook left, I could use my Element to get this job done blazing fast. He watched me; I stared steadily back.

“Just make sure you bank the fires well.” His sausage-like fingers worked at the knot of his apron. He removed it, revealing pristine jeans underneath. Mine were similarly protected; at least I wouldn’t have to change before the ceremony.

If the cook would just go already. He seemed to take forever to turn and step into the night. When the darkness swallowed him, and his footsteps faded outside, I allowed myself a quick breath before turning to the task at hand.

Hunger gnawed at my stomach as I hurried to add wood to the long row of ovens in the kitchen.

The rest of the kitchen staff had already gone, which made my trips to the woodpile and back easier. If darting fifty feet out into wintery air, grabbing two logs that weighed more than I did, and sprinting back could be considered easy.

I oscillated from holy hot to holy cold and back again. The other oven workers complained about the unbearable heat. I didn’t mind it so much. I even paused to inhale the savory smoke and admire the bark-crackling and sap-popping.

Such a friendly sound. I almost smiled—the loud banging of footsteps brought me to my senses. The cook stood in the doorway, watching me with an edge in his eyes I couldn’t decipher and holding an armful of wood. I gave him a grateful half-smile, ducked my head, and continued my work. No sense in attracting more attention to myself—especially since I’d never interacted with the head cook more than necessary, and I never showed any interest in the fires beyond making sure they stayed lit.

But I was.

My little secret: I adored everything about fire. That was actually a big secret—one I had to keep no matter what.

In the second to last oven, a roll had fallen from the bakeware sometime during dinner service. Small and mostly black, the bread should’ve been thrown away. My mouth watered, desperate for anything besides air and saliva. I stuffed the roll in my apron pocket.

Please don’t start yet, please don’t start yet. I’d promised myself I’d attend the ceremony, because this mid-winter Council selection signaled the end of my eligibility.

After tonight, I’d have to pick an educational track—if I didn’t get selected for a Council. My breath came faster as I ran to the woodpile one more time, imagining what it would be like if I were the one up on the stage. The one choosing a Council. The way Firemakers did.

I should’ve been eating with the Elementals, not serving them. I should’ve been up there with Jarvis and the rest of the Firemakers.

Instead, I was here, tossing the last log into the end oven and watching the cook disappear into the night.

I swallowed back the taste of bitterness and counted. 1, 2, 3…. The cook didn’t return. All lay still.

Satisfied I was alone in the kitchen, I urged my power into smoke and then flame. I started at the first oven and poured, poured fire from my hands. Ten seconds later, a job that took others twenty minutes was finished.

What’s more, I knew the flames wouldn’t die by morning—which was exactly why I worked the dinner shift every blazing night.

If I sprinted, I might make it to the ceremony before it began. I stuffed the mostly burnt lump of bread in my mouth and tossed my soiled apron in the direction of the laundry chute before racing outside.

As I ran toward the southern barracks, I wouldn’t allow myself to want a Council position. See, if I didn’t expect it, then I couldn’t be let down when it didn’t happen.

Another dirty little secret: I wanted a Council position. Almost as much as I yearned to spark and dance and fly, I ached to belong to a group of Elementals. Because then others would know I was Elemental.

My breath steamed before me in the absolute cold. Yet I didn’t really feel it. Elemental benefit—one of many. Elementals lived on the top tier of society. They didn’t perform physical labor, didn’t serve others, didn’t do anything but hone their powers and study politics. See, Elementals kept our cities peaceful and protected; they didn’t have time to clean, or cook, or wash their robes.

Once in my dorm room, I hurried to wash my face. I twisted the hot water faucet, cringed at the icy liquid that shot out, and smoothed my wet hands over my hair in a desperate attempt to get it to magically transform into someone else’s. It didn’t.

I scrubbed the ash out of my teeth and seriously reconsidered my outfit. Everyone else at the ceremony would be dressed according to their rank—meaning they’d have had fittings, and scrubbed skin against which their expensive fabrics would be resting. Even the Unmanifested would be wearing their finest suits. The chosen Elementals would leave the ceremony wearing brightly colored silk robes over their tuxes and dresses.

Another bell rang, and I whispered, “Blazes,” before leaving my dorm room. Outside, snow drifted down, the flakes adding to the enormous piles already covering campus.

Cheery yellow light spilled from the gaping doorways in the fortress. With the doors still open and the reverberation of the chime still hanging in the air, I knew the ceremony hadn’t started yet. All the same, I increased my speed, hoping to have a few minutes to scope out the scene and take my place in the Unmanifested row.

My hopes were dashed when Jarvis stepped out of the shadows lining the entrance. I slowed my pace and ran my hands over my hair again. See, Jarvis Manning possessed some wicked firemaking ability.

“Running late again, Gabby?” he asked, slow and easy. His hands rested deep in the pockets of his suit pants. He wore a starched white shirt, complete with silver cufflinks. His necktie—yellow, probably the color of his future Council—hung loosely around his neck.

I shifted uncomfortably next to him in those clothes, so different from his usual black school uniform. I felt every inch of his Elemental high ranking, even though we were best friends. “Yes, no thanks to you.”

“Hey, I ate as fast as I could.” He brushed his dark hair off his forehead, half a smile on his face.

I swept up the last of the steps and into his personal space. As a Firemaker, he gave off a lot of heat. And I needed to pretend like I was seriously cold.

“Sure, sure,” I said, rubbing my hands together like they needed the friction. “Why are you out here?” I tried to look past him into the chamber where the ceremony would take place.

“Waiting for you. For a minute there, I thought you weren’t going to show.”

I exhaled, feeling the weight of my life settle on my shoulders. I didn’t have to continue attending these ceremonies. I didn’t have to put my name in as a potential Councilmember—again. Candidates could enter their name as many times as they wished to be considered for a Council. The selection ceremonies happened four times a year, and a person was eligible until the winter semester of their junior year. If they weren’t chosen by then, well, students needed to gain a skill so they could contribute to society in another way.

I’d entered as often as possible, and the ceremonies had grown stale over the course of the last two years. Yet every time I’d considered skipping the event I found I couldn’t. If I didn’t get chosen tonight, I could work in the kitchens of Crylon forever, a task that held little hope and even less glory. I thought of the head cook, how he could take a hot pan right from the fire without protective gloves, how he noticed everything in the kitchen. I didn’t want to end up like him. I supposed I could find a baking apprenticeship beyond the school, in the greater common of Crylon, but I just didn’t feel right about cooking for my entire life.

Aside from that, I had the option of enrolling in the Educator track. I’d tested onto the track, because I had an excellent memory. Those who weren’t as fortunate didn’t get to attend classes; instead, they were assigned a vocational track like leatherworking, glass-blowing, cabinetry, or another useful trade.

Those of us who’d tested into the Educator track stayed at school and took classes for half the day. I’d had a few math courses, some basic history, an astronomy class, art, government, and nature studies. I didn’t learn much about geography, reading, or writing. Those were coveted courses only those who’d declared their desire to become Educators got to take.

Elementals were instructed in everything, but especially politics and government—and reading and writing.

On the Educator track, I’d learn how to read and write, which appealed to me. But the thought of teaching didn’t settle well in my stomach. Some people were made for teaching—but I wasn’t one of them. I’d be under constant scrutiny during my training and an even tighter microscope afterward. The Councilman oversaw all education in Crylon, and the last thing I needed was the highest authority in our government breathing down my neck. My secrets would become impossible to keep if he had his attention focused on me for too long.

Becoming part of a Council offered the most promise. Councilmembers held power, and not just their own. A magical bond accompanied a chartering ceremony, one that linked the powers of all four Elementals in a Council. Of course I’d never experienced it, had never even witnessed a Council chartering. But everyone knew of the enhanced abilities of chartered Councilmembers. They enjoyed increased protection and increased powers. I’d have neither of those without a Council, Educator track or not.

I shivered, though far from cold. I swallowed another wave of disappointment and silenced another string of I should be’s.

“Let’s go.” When I tried to step past Jarvis, he put his hand on my elbow. Not in a grab. Not a clutch.

Just a touch, with a hint of heat even I could feel.

“Gabby, I—”

The darkness prevented me from truly seeing his expression. But it didn’t matter. I heard the sorrow between the syllables. So much had already been said. I couldn’t rehash it again. He didn’t want to hear it anyway.

I clung to the hope that he’d pick me for his Council. The possibility seemed unreachable, yet painfully within my grasp at the same time.

So I reached out and tied his necktie, adjusting it under his collar and fiddling needlessly with the buttons on his shirt. Something strange clogged my throat. I ground it away and said, “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

I entered the chamber first, Jarvis’s silence trailing behind me like an unwelcome friend.

I sat alone, brooding over the forthcoming loss of my best friend. Jarvis scanned the crowd, unable or unwilling to let his gaze settle on me.

The chamber chattered with voices, bounced with laughter. I smoothed my hair again, very aware that I was the most underdressed for this event.

The Watermaiden row consisted of girls of the drop-dead gorgeous variety with their hair all tea tree’ed up, satin dresses, and minty white teeth. I couldn’t compete with them, and I didn’t want to.

My feet itched to be outside, to be running through the forest with nothing but wind and silence as companions. With Jarvis at my side, as we’d done so many times before.

But we might never do that again. See, he and his newly-selected Council would be too busy for anyone or anything but learning about the powers they each possessed, and how those had been enhanced through the chartering. In four months, they’d travel south to Tarpulin—the capital city of the United Territories—for diplomacy training. Four measly months, and he’d leave me the same way Cat and Isaiah had.

Would Jarvis write? I had thought Cat would, but no. I hadn’t heard from her or Isaiah in a very long time. I definitely wouldn’t get a letter from Jarvis.

Unless he picks you as his Unmanifested.

My pulse quickened at the thought. The exquisitely tuxedoed guys in the Earthmover and Airmaster rows joked as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They probably didn’t. If they didn’t get chosen tonight, there was always next term, another selection ceremony. And if they never got chosen, they were still treated as royalty. They’d join the training center staff and groom future Earthmovers and Airmasters.

I swallowed hard. If I didn’t get chosen tonight, I would return to my confined life of say this, don’t say that, do this, don’t do that, serve him, move faster, fetch more wood, get out of the way.

I’d felt this level of nervousness at several of the previous selection ceremonies. I’d seen the desperate Unmanifested candidates go unnoticed in ceremony after ceremony. I’d heard their muffled sobs no matter how they tried to hide them. With every ceremony where I got passed over, my anxiety grew and pulsed upward, choking me.

After each ceremony, my friend Cat had waited for me in my dorm. She’d comfort me and braid my hair, weaving magical stories of the Council I’d be a part of with the threads of hair.

She’d taught me a few tricks to get my hair to ripple smoothly down my back. “Gabby, honey, put tea tree oil in your bathwater,” she’d always said. With a friend like Cat, I never wanted for a hot, scented bath after a hard night in the kitchens.

Her heart belonged to Isaiah, but I liked to think she’d carved a place for me too. Even with her Elemental status, she never looked down at me, never sought friends with more power or rank.

“You’ll have to learn to read,” she said a few weeks before she left for diplomacy training. “Because I’m going to write to you every day.”

I’d stood behind her, brushing out her hair into ribbons of black silk. “You won’t have time to write every day,” I said, but inside I was secretly pleased. Maybe she’d miss me as much as I was going to miss her. I wasn’t sure how I’d endure the selection ceremonies without her to help me afterward. I hadn’t coped well, that much I knew.

“Every chance I get,” she’d insisted. “Promise me you’ll learn to read.” She turned, and I found an odd sense of urgency in her face.

“As soon as I get the approval,” I said.

Her full lips curved up, and she stood. “Your turn.”

I took her place in the chair and let her comb through my hair. She hadn’t done four strokes before she said, “Gabby, honey, I have an oil you should try,” just like she always did.

I wrenched my thoughts away from Cat. I hadn’t received a single letter in the year since she’d left for Tarpulin and her Council training. I swallowed back my disappointment, still lost in my memories of the numerous selection ceremonies I’d witnessed.

I’d seen one Unmanifested break down, first crying and then screaming for another chance. She’d worked on the grounds crew, and I used to see her on the way to my first class every day.

After that ceremony—her last chance—I never saw her again. Her section of the south quadrant was reassigned to an Unmanifested boy who’d never been selected either. He wore the green tunic of a groundskeeper, keeping the sidewalks clear of snow in the winter and hedging the bushes in the summer.

He seemed fine with his assignment. He didn’t seem caged, like if he didn’t get beyond these walls he’d combust. Of course, he never looked anyone in the eye, the way I’d been trained to avert my gaze as I served the Elementals in the mess hall. So maybe the groundskeeper did feel trapped, enclosed by the towering bushes and walls of snow that edged his life.

Sometimes my fingers twitched and my feet bounced, all in anticipation of getting outside the gates and running free. With a Council position, I could feel that freedom. I could find a place in this world, I could belong without worrying that one wrong step would lead to my disappearance.

I ran through the unsettling thoughts of vanishing in the night, never to be seen in the kitchens again. Would the person who tended the fires next to me notice my absence? Would she mourn my loss, wondering where I’d gone and what had become of me?

No one knew exactly where those who disappeared went, but I’d heard rumors. Stories that included mass graves, or worse, exile. Without the protection of a city or a Councilman, survival was rare. I didn’t know how many more cities existed beyond the forests of Crylon, but I understood that an isolated life on the endless plains could kill me. Children in Crylon were taught that lesson first.

I couldn’t even leave the school grounds without repercussions. The gate kept us contained, away from the citizens the forest hedged in.

I shoved thoughts of exile and death to the back of my mind, focusing instead on the small crowd that had gathered in the Unmanifested section for tonight’s ceremony. Only a handful of girls had shown up—including me—for the last and lowest Council position. My best girl friend, Elizabeth Nox, slid into the seat next to me. I didn’t think it possible to be any later than me, but Liz worked the late shift in the Laundromat. Maybe it had been a rough night, getting the Council robes ready for the ceremony and pressing so many seams into straight, neat rows.

“Gabby,” she said, out of breath and straightening her shirt. “Your hair looks great.”

“Thanks, so does yours,” I muttered, still trying to pin Jarvis with my gaze. He wouldn’t look at me. A minute later, the ceremony started.

The senior Firemakers chose in turns. I should be up there. The thought came unbidden, yet coated my throat with sourness. I coughed to clear it away as the Airmasters stood.

I didn’t know Jarvis’s choice for Airmaster, and I squirmed in my seat, wishing time would move already. He predictably chose his best male friend for his Earthmover. A smile slipped across my lips. I could see myself working with the crew Jarvis was slowly assembling.

Something pricked at my gut. Something that hurt. Something like losing more than a best friend. More like losing an opportunity I should have been guaranteed.

A girl from Cat’s old dorm became his Watermaiden. Her hair hung in glorious ringlets of gold down to her waist. My hair, about two shades darker and a million times less curly, would never compare.

But it didn’t matter. The Unmanifested round had started.

My name wasn’t uttered by the first Firemaker. Or the second. Or the third. Tension settled across my shoulders. Jarvis still wouldn’t look at me. He knew how much I wanted to be on a Council. To feel that bond, that camaraderie. We’d talked about it so many times. He’d told me I’d make a good Educator. I said he’d make an excellent Councilman. My meaning was clear. I wanted to serve as his Unmanifested Councilmember.

His silence had made his meaning clear. I felt it deep inside. Still, I hoped. Jarvis was my best friend. Surely he’d pick me.

On his turn, his gaze finally settled into mine. We breathed in together; exhaled. Fire smoked under my skin. He didn’t look away as he said, “Elizabeth Nox,” in a strong, sure voice.

Her name, and not mine, sounded like betrayal.

The wind welcomed me to the forest. It danced through the treetops, almost producing a tinkling sound to accompany the pounding of my feet.

Pain and loss and hurt and rage seeped, seeped into every step. The darkness inked the horizon, the glowing lights of the school a mere memory now.

Leaving campus was against the rules, but I didn’t care. As soon as Jarvis had said her name—not mine, hers—I’d fled. I didn’t stop at my dorm for my running shoes, for my brown hooded sweatshirt, for anything.

Maybe if I ran fast enough, I could escape the awful sound of her name—hers, not mine—echoing in the chamber, echoing in my head.

Steam rose from my skin, my blood boiled, and before I could contain it, fire dripped from my fingers the same way the tears slid from my eyes.

I couldn’t outrun that part of myself.

But I wanted to. Holy hot blazes, I wanted to.

See, girl + Firemaker = genetic freak = a secret that could kill me if it wasn’t kept.

“Gabby, you’re on service tonight.”

Cold dread filled my stomach with the cook’s words. Service meant face-to-face contact with Councilmembers. Possibly with Jarvis—and now Liz.

I’d managed to avoid service duties for the past three months. I just couldn’t face my former friends. Not here, not in the dorms. Not ever would be fine by me.

I made my eyes glaze over as I gathered plates, bumped through the door, and served the Elementals in the dining chamber. Gather, bump, serve. Gather, bump, serve.

Colored silks blended together. Blue, violet, orange, white, black. No yellow. Thank the sparks.

“Table twelve,” the cook said, dishing up my last service for the evening. Gather, bump—

The Councilmembers sitting at table twelve all wore yellow.

“Hi, Gabby,” Liz bubbled at me as I placed her food in front of her. Warring emotions battled inside. Guilt because of my resentment of her appointment. I should’ve been happy for her. Her life had improved dramatically over the past few months.

As an Unmanifested Councilmember, she didn’t have to work in the Laundromat anymore. Her hands—once red and chapped—were porcelain and shiny, her nails perfectly polished. She’d been busy learning to read and write. I could tell, because she held her fork with less awkwardness, like the Elementals did who’d learned to hold a quill as children.

Her hair was plaited into a crown, something she definitely hadn’t done. Her face had been painted by delicate hands. All the work of a servant. Liz probably hadn’t lifted a finger to do more than feed herself in three months.

Jealousy raged through me, though I wished it wouldn’t. Now that she was part of a Council, she enjoyed the same treatment Elementals received from birth. This was why the Unmanifested pool of candidates was the biggest at every selection ceremony. Anyone would want the lifestyle of an Elemental, even if the role of the Unmanifested was the most unsavory: Administering the judgments of the Councilman.

Along with the guilt and jealousy came a wave of anger I couldn’t contain. The plate in my hand absorbed the heat from my Element, but the Airmaster I served didn’t seem to notice.

I practically dropped Jarvis’s plate in front of him and turned to leave.

“Gabby,” he said.

“Don’t,” I clipped out. It hurt, hurt to walk away without talking to him.

Again, his silence followed me as if it was all he had left to give.

After work, after curfew, after the school and the city of Crylon slept, I dressed in my only pair of jeans, my running T-shirt, and my brown hooded sweatshirt.

I heated the bars in the gate, wrenched them apart, and set my feet loose in the forests beyond.

Jarvis had introduced me to the freedom behind the fence surrounding the school. Last fall, when my Element was only a few weeks old, Jarvis and I wove through the trees during one of many illegal jaunts through the forest. The leaves crinkled beneath our feet, glorious reds and golds against the damp earth.

He chatted about his courses; I told him about the tilted axis of the earth and how it created the seasons. He filled me in on the politics of the selection ceremony; I complained to him about my work in the kitchens.

I desperately wanted to ask him about his Element. I danced closer and closer to the subject, asking him things like “What happened after you Manifested your Element?” or “What kinds of things can Firemakers do?”

His feet kept crunching the undergrowth, but he shot me a glance out of the corner of his eye. He stepped; I stepped. Our fingers brushed.

He didn’t pull away; neither did I. It felt clumsy and awkward, but then my fingers settled between his—and I couldn’t detect a temperature difference. I wondered if he could. Part of me had wanted him to know what I was. The other—louder—part wanted to yank my hand away.

But still another, larger part simply wanted to hold hands with Jarvis Manning. So I did that.

“Firemakers can do all sorts of things,” he said, his voice low, conspiratorial. “There’s the whole fire thing, of course.” He smiled at the ground where his eyes were trained, but somehow I felt that his smile belonged only to me. “Sometimes we can heat without flame. Some Firemakers can control flames that aren’t theirs. Some can tell which type of wood is burning simply by the smell of the smoke. You know, things like that.”

“More,” I breathed. “Tell me more.”

And he did. He said that some Firemakers could sense the firemaking ability in others. They could feel the Element inside, tell how far away the other person was, how strong of a Firemaker they were.

“Can you do that?” I asked.

He didn’t answer for several minutes. We crunched through the leaves, hand in hand, the wind adding to the symphony of sound in the forest.

“Not all Firemakers can sense the fire in others. But all Elementals can summon,” he said. “And that’s sort of like detection.”

“Really? I thought summoning simply meant the person had to prove their Element.”

“Exactly. And then you’ll know their power, right?” He cast me another sideways smile and squeezed my hand.

Sudden panic seized in my stomach. What if he could sense my firemaking ability? I stewed and fretted over that, noting that he hadn’t answered my question, for the rest of the walk. As I tried to smother my spark deep inside, my contributions to the conversation became clipped two-word sentences, but Jarvis didn’t seem alarmed.

When he kissed me just before we returned to the school grounds, I forgot about keeping the fire dormant. His touch caused such heat to explode inside of me, no matter how much I wanted to push it back.

Sometimes Jarvis came running with me, but in the three months since he hadn’t chosen me, I’d gone alone. Always alone.

Now I pounded my frustration and loneliness into each footstep late at night. I ran and ran and ran, hoping to leave behind the memories of Jarvis. I finally succeeded by switching my thoughts to the advanced history lessons I’d been enduring since declaring my interest in the Educator track. The boring topics cooled my fire enough to return to the school.

I smelled the smoke before the grounds came into view. The intoxicating scent swirled in my senses, awakening that part of me I hadn’t quite learned to control, even after trying to outrun it. I slipped through the gap I’d made in the fence and fixed it before sprinting toward the corner of the southern barracks.

The orange glow of fire painted the sky, exciting me even as dread seeped into my awareness. I peered around the corner, the delicious flames filling my view. I took two steps before pulling back. Fire meant danger. Even I recognized that.

“Blazes,” I cursed. Thick smoke curled around the northern barracks, forming clouds that shaded the moon.

I pulled my hood over my hair and shrank into the shadows. My skin tingled with the dancing flames. My breath came out in white puffs as I watched the other students clustered together in the absolute cold. I wasn’t welcome in any group, not now, not ever.

Much as I tried, I couldn’t help how the sight of the leaping flames relaxed me. Chaos raged as smoke poured from the second floor windows. Round-faced girls in ash-covered nightdresses stood in a circle around the burning building, singing.

Watermaidens.

I wished I could hate them. But most were as nice as they were beautiful.

Water gushed from the ground. The Watermaidens raised their hands, focusing their Element to quench the wild flames.

I swallowed my disappointment at seeing the fire die.

Liz stood with her new friends. Her Council. I looked away, bitter disappointment coursing through me. My emotional wounds hadn’t healed, even after three months. Seeing her twice in one night didn’t help.

“Gabby.”

I sensed the fire in Jarvis before he emerged from the alcove in front of me. “Jarvis.” I kept my emotion from infusing my voice. He didn’t need to know how much I wanted to talk to him, how much I loathed him, how much I missed him.

He wore all black, his usual everyday uniform. He smiled, revealing his white teeth. “Kilpatrick, you’ve always been so Unmanifested.” Jarvis’s dark eyes harbored an edge of amusement.

“So have you,” I replied, playing this familiar game, aching from the three long months of separation. He’d be leaving in just one month. I was almost used to life without him. Almost.

With a snap of his fingers, a whirlwind of fire snaked from his wrist to his fingertip. The light made his dark eyes seem endless. He leaned in and examined me more closely. “You been running again?”

I pulled back. Someone without firemaking power shouldn’t be able to tolerate flames so close. Besides, he already knew the answer to his question, so I asked, “How’s Liz?” I barely got the name out; my throat felt tight, tight.

“She’s fine.”

And with that, we’d exhausted our conversation topics. Funny how we used to walk together several times a week and had never hit a lull of awkward silence.

Jarvis blocked my view of the fire and refused to look anywhere but in my eyes. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I finally met his gaze. “To what do I owe this honor, Firemaker?” I almost bowed, the way non-Elementals often did with their superiors.

He blinked at my formality, then his eyes softened. “You’re in trouble.”

The air filled with dirt and fire and smoke. I couldn’t breathe. Did he know?

“Gabby?” So many questions hid behind my name.

“I didn’t do anything.” I glared at him, chest to chest. I stood almost as tall as him, despite being a year younger.

Jarvis pointed behind him, toward the fire. “Someone said they saw you.”

I clenched my fists to keep the fire—and anger—inside. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. Someone was seen in the corridor after curfew. Wearing a brown hooded sweatshirt.” His gaze slid over my incriminating clothes and back to my face.

“So no one else in this school has a brown sweatshirt?”

“No,” he said simply. “No one else breaks curfew.”

“You do.”

“Gabby, someone was seen in the northern barracks. And now they’re on fire.” The way his voice lowered, the river of concern it carried, lit a flicker of fear deep inside.

“No,” I whispered. “I don’t—I mean, I’m Unmanifested.” Even as I spoke, the fire danced inside my body.

“The advisor of the northern barracks sent for you. People are looking everywhere.”

No matter how hard I tried to push it back, the Element burned upward, licking my stomach with a fiery tongue. Inside my jeans pockets, my fingertips smoldered.

“The northern barracks are stone,” I said, desperation lining my voice. “I couldn’t have lit them on fire, even if I was Elemental. Which I’m not.”

He tilted his head. “Gabby—”

“Why?” The question just burst out. “Why’d you pick her when you could’ve picked me?”

Jarvis raised his fingers to my cheek. I yearned to lean into his touch, but I kept my back ramrod straight. He looked at me, really looked. Through my defenses, through the three month separation, straight to my core.

“A Council can’t have two Firemakers,” he whispered.

I backed up as two weights flattened against my chest and pressed, pressed against my ribs. “No. You don’t—”

“I can sense the fire in you, Gabby. I felt it in January too. Felt it last fall when you Manifested. I wanted to choose you—”

“Stop,” I choked. That resentment had already been dammed. I couldn’t re-live it, couldn’t harbor any more anger than three months’ worth.

“If I didn’t pick her, she’d end up working in that laundry until she died,” he whispered. “You—you have a chance at something else.”

Again, shame raged with guilt inside. Jarvis was right; Liz had a chance at life because he’d chosen her for his Council. I’d tested into the Educator track—I could do that. It just felt like living someone else’s life.

“No.” I shook my head. His version of “something else” didn’t match up with mine. All I could envision were city walls and the threat of exile. No way Councilman Ferguson—the only authority in Crylon that could approve a new Council—would allow me such a thing. I’d heard enough rumors to know that genetic freaks didn’t get to choose what happened to them.

“Gabby, please,” he pleaded. “I can feel your fire.”

“Only boys are Firemakers,” I whispered, as much agony in my voice as he held in his.

A wry smile decorated his mouth. “Manifest.”

My power jumped, ready to explode out. I squeezed my eyes closed and bit down hard. But the Elemental power I possessed had been summoned by a Firemaker, a Councilman. The fire roared in my head, and I pulled my hands out of my pockets so I wouldn’t incinerate my only pair of jeans.

In the next moment, my fists erupted in hot flames. The rush ended, and I opened my smoking hands to reveal a burning ball of embers resting in each palm. Jarvis’s long fingers encircled my wrists. Only another Firemaker could touch me so soon after an Elemental release.

His black eyes glinted in the tangerine light of my Element. “Run.”

I didn’t look away from Jarvis. Fat snowflakes landed on my nose and eyelashes, sizzling on my skin. Inhaling through my nose, I examined my options.

I couldn’t stay in school—not with people looking for me and the accusation that I’d lit the northern barracks on fire. I couldn’t stay in Crylon. No one would accept me. See, freaks were dealt with quietly, even though we all knew where they were sent—outside the walls.

Jarvis and I knew an even greater significance to his declaration to run. On one of our walks through the forest, we’d discussed a particular Firemaker he’d learned about in his Elemental training. He’d never told me much of his studies, claiming it was against the rules. I believed him, because my Educators had been adamant about keeping my lessons secret too. The Councilman wanted to control all information in Crylon, and that meant keeping it fragmented.

But Jarvis had told me about this Firemaker, because she was accused of killing a man and taking his ability for her own.

“It makes no sense,” Jarvis had said. “You can’t gain another’s power. They’re genetic.”

“Right,” I’d said, nodding. “So what happened to her?” I’d been beyond interested in learning more about this person, but I hadn’t wanted Jarvis to notice. My heart pounded too hard for the leisurely walk, and I had to work hard to keep the sparks from raining from my fingertips.

“She claimed her firemaking Manifested, just like a man’s does. Councilman Harley didn’t believe her. Condemned her to death.” He paused, his eyes focused on the ground, and frown lines forming between his eyes. When he spoke again, I could barely hear him.

“She should’ve run away,” he said. “No one should have to die because of something they can’t control.”

That was the first time I thought I could confide in Jarvis about my Element. Yet somehow, my lips stayed tightly closed. We walked in silence, letting the wind sing its song through the treetops.

Just before we returned to the school, I asked, “So was she guilty of killing another Firemaker?”

“I don’t know,” Jarvis said. “But if she was a Firemaker, she didn’t become one by stealing another’s power. That just isn’t how it works.” He shook his head, his dark eyes sparking with lightning. “She should’ve run away.”

I heard those words again in my head now, as the snow drifted down, as I looked into Jarvis’s intense eyes.

“Jarvis, please,” I said, hating myself for how childish I sounded. I shivered from the biting wind snaking down my collar.

“We’ve talked about this before,” Jarvis said. “Your only choice is to go. I was sent to find you and bring you to Advisor Kingston.”

“What will happen to you?”

“I’ll just say I couldn’t find you.” He drew me into a hug, not our first, but it felt like it all over again. “You’ve got maybe five minutes, okay? Run fast, Gabby.”

Shoving aside my intense desire to stay with Jarvis and letting my memory of the other female Firemaker take over, I turned and ran. To the right, the practice pools for the Watermaidens lay black and still. I hurried down the path, ignoring the rich earth on my left, where Earthmovers spent their days honing their Elemental gifts. I’d never had that chance. Part of me winced as I realized what I was becoming. A fugitive.

And see, that was at least as bad as a genetic freak.

The south gate beckoned, glossy with snow. I focused on my Element, desperate for the flames to obey. A moment passed, then two. Frustration turned into a strangled sob. “Come on. Please.”

Finally, my hands erupted in hot, blue flames. I gripped two bars and held them while the fire kissed the metal.

Summoning all the strength in my wiry body, I yanked. The softened iron widened enough for me to slip my head through. Twisting sideways, my shoulders and hips cleared the narrow gap.

I shoved the bars back together and ducked into the safety of the forest. I’d traveled a similar path every night for the past three months, and my feet found their rhythm after a few steps.

Whispers followed me. I’d never been afraid in the forest before, but now my heart thumped with every noise as I moved through the undergrowth. I had the distinct feeling that I was being followed.

Hunted.

By the time the pale winter sun woke, my once-long stride had shortened considerably and my calves were cramping. My right knee screamed with pain every time I stepped and hadn’t been cooperating for a couple of hours now. I’d find my feet covered with blisters too, if the aches there told me anything.

I leaned against a tree at the edge of the woods, a sudden drop looming a few yards away. Below me, a valley stretched into an ancient city skyline. Having lived for sixteen years in the confines of Crylon, I had no idea another city was so close—or so big. After the Manifestation, the population had been contained in cities for protection. See, the first person to Manifest was a Firemaker—that was why Firemakers led Councils—and he wasn’t a very nice person.

Jarvis thought perhaps he just hadn’t learned how to control his power, but the lessons I’d endured said he was cruel unless people obeyed his every whim. When other Elementals began Manifesting, a wise woman who could call water from the ground suggested they form a governing Council to ensure the survival and protection of the human race.

Some cities were enormous metropolises, while some were simple villages. Councils were assigned cities or entire regions, depending on the size of the population.

The Supreme Elemental and his Council resided in Tarpulin and ran the United Territories through the city Councilmen. Only wilderness existed between cities, and food and shelter were hard to come by. This forced people to stay under the safety of their Councilman in established cities. My best option was to find an inhabited city and somehow get inside its gates. Hope flared in my chest at the sight of the abandoned city below me; I could hide among the many buildings puncturing the sky and maybe find something to sustain me until I reached a functioning city.

But my Element burned as I realized I wouldn’t be safe in this abandoned city. “Because tall buildings are too dangerous.” My voice scraped through the silence. Earthmovers could send a building to the ground in seconds. People lived in single-story houses simply so they wouldn’t have as much rubble to dig through if the Councilman ordered his Earthmover to raze a neighborhood.

“You shouldn’t stand out in the open either,” I reprimanded myself. As soon as I said it, a thump shook the tree trunk next to me. A blade quivered there, mere inches from skewering me. In a knee-jerk reaction, a shower of flames pulsed from my hands. I aimed them toward the trees where the knife had come from. Saturated with snow, the wet wood caused a cloud of hot mist to form.

I wrenched the knife—a sentry’s blade—from the trunk and ran toward the drop-off. Rocky and slippery, I slid down, half on my back and half on my butt. At the bottom, snow melted through my shoes, sapping my warmth. The mist settled around me, mixed with the soothing aroma of leftover smoke. I couldn’t see more than ten feet in any direction. So I ran again, heading in the general direction of the city.

The few trees I hurried past seemed to have eyes. When I spotted a stream, I dodged behind a lone pine, hopefully out of view of any passing sentries. See, Unmanifested boys who weren’t chosen for a Council were often trained as sentries—and the spark of life got sucked out of their eyes by the end of the first week. Sentries were skilled assassins, and they did the bidding of their Councilman, no matter the risk or cost. They were physically fit, logical, and armed. I had no chance against a sentry.

I forced back the fear escalating through my system and stuck my hands in the water, stung by the chill. I pulled back, my cupped hands dripping liquid ice. I pulled on my firepower, but it recoiled. Hot tears gathered behind my eyes, and I seized on their warmth.

Flames erupted from my fingertips, heating the water in my hands past the holy-freezing-c-c-cold point in a few seconds. I drank and washed my face. The glassy water provided a mottled mirror, and I actually thought about what Cat would say regarding the condition of my hair.

“Gabby, honey….” She wouldn’t actually have the words. Enough tea tree oil didn’t exist to tame the mess I had sprouting from my head.

I ran my wet hands over my hair, dismissing the thoughts of Cat. They hurt too much, and I already had enough physical pain raging through my body. I couldn’t deal with memories of lost friends too.

Half jogging and half limping, I followed the stream, only leaving it to roam the outskirts of the city. I stepped up to a mound of metal and ran my fingers over the rusty surface. I thought it was a car. The first course of my Educator training had been history. Before the Manifestation, everyone drove cars. And they lived in multiple-story buildings with elevators, machines that took them up and down. And they shopped in malls. And communicated with handheld devices called phones. Now only sentries used motorized transportation and could talk over long distances.

I hadn’t asked why. I’d learned quickly that asking questions wasn’t tolerated.

I walked down the street, staying close to the buildings where the snow couldn’t record my footsteps. Buildings had weathered; debris crumbled into piles. But only the windows on the lower levels were broken. I surmised that by the time the Elementals arrived, the Unmanifested had fled.

Metal poles poked through snow banks with strange writing I didn’t understand.

They must be letters, I thought. Before the Manifestation, everyone knew how to read and write. Now, only Elementals and the Unmanifested on a Council or the Educator track learned to read. Since I’d only recently chosen my track, my approval still hadn’t come from the Supreme Elemental. And Educator Ostrund wouldn’t teach me to read until it did.

“Stupid man,” I muttered along with the grumbling of my belly.

After wandering aimlessly for what felt like forever, I leaned against the side of a building in the heart of the city. The bricks shifted, crumbling under my weight. I stumbled backward and fell through the wall.

I grunted as the bricks landed on my stomach and legs. Tossing them off, I got up and brushed the mortar from my jeans. The building kept the biting wind at bay, but it made me feel trapped. Closed in.

A row of identical machines took up the space nearest me. Each station had a black conveyor belt and a blank screen. Numbers identified each location, with racks separating the belts.

Something sat on the shelves. I strode forward, vowing to burn the racks if I didn’t find food. What I found: Empty boxes covered in a thick layer of dust.

My fingertips tingled with fire. I took a deep breath, which I found was not the best idea in an old building. Coughing, I turned my attention to the rest of the space. It had been sectioned into long corridors, open at both ends. As I walked, the empty metal shelves on both sides repeated my footsteps.

I wandered up and down the aisles, desperation growing into a hard coal in my gut. At length, I found several bottles. They smelled like the infirmary—sterile and sharp—like death. Inedible. I thought briefly about pouring the liquid on my feet, which throbbed with every step.

As I rounded the end of an aisle in the corner of the building, the distinct rhythm of a second set of footsteps filled the silence.

The steps landed heavy and even—a sentry’s gait. I imagined the black boots and ground my teeth together to keep calm.

Problem #1: The hole I’d created in the brick wall loomed two hundred feet away.

Problem #2: A shadow waltzed in front of it. Another sentry.

Solution: A black door lay several feet to my right. I sprinted toward it, cringing with the hollow thump of my fist on the plastic.

Footsteps ran behind me. A man shouted. Behind the plastic door, darkness stretched. With only seconds to hide, I lit one finger and dove toward the first door I saw. It swung open easily, but I cursed silently at the sight of so much wood. I could torch this place simply by sneezing.

A closet stood open in the corner and I crawled inside, extinguishing the flame in my hand and pulling the door closed. It drifted open again, revealing two silhouettes in the gray rectangle of the doorway. I slid to the back of the closet, silently adjusting some low-hanging fabrics in front of me. The muscles in my legs knotted and unknotted, spasming from the quick sprint on top of the punishing all-night run.

The sentries turned, and the sound of their footsteps faded. I waited, still as stone, barely breathing. Hours might have passed. My legs grew stiff and tight, but still I didn’t dare move. I felt a pressing sense of hopelessness. Two sentries are hunting me.

“She’s not here,” a harsh voice said, interrupting my hyperventilating thoughts.

“Yes, she is. You heard the door,” a younger man replied, coming closer.

“Yes, but she could’ve opened that door with a blast of smoke and gone out the front while we’ve been piddling around back here.”

Blazes, I wish I’d been able to attend Firemaker training. See, I didn’t know I could control smoke.

“Let’s split up,” the younger sentry said. Something in his voice nagged at my memory.

“Right. So you can kill her as soon as you spot her? Don’t think so.”

“My orders are to bring her back to Crylon. Councilman Ferguson didn’t specify dead or alive.”

“The Supreme Elemental wants her alive—and in Tarpulin. If she dies, so do you.”

My blood ran cold. What did the Supremist want with me? And in Tarpulin? See, people didn’t return from “visiting” the Supreme Elemental.

He made sure of that. And if he wanted me, my survival rate plummeted. He always got what he wanted.

I remembered what my favorite teacher, Educator Graham, had said. “Supremist Pederson keeps all Elemental records.” Her voice had sounded as old as she looked. “Every Elemental must send documentation of their Manifestation to Tarpulin. This is how the Supremist keeps track of the talent in the United Territories. He watches for the most talented Elementals to train at his personal academy. He assigns cities to Councils he deems worthy. He is an extremely powerful man. Dangerous, but essential to our survival.”

At the time, I hadn’t yet Manifested my Element, and already I hoped for a Council. Because Councils had servants. Friends. Each other.

They belonged.

“Take care to serve your Councilman well, Gabriella.” Educator Graham had said, looking deep into my eyes. “You do not want to deal with the Supremist if you can avoid it.”

I’d believed my teacher. The urgent way her eyes sparkled, the breathless trepidation in her voice, said more than her words.

That intense terror settled in the silence now surrounding me, because I wasn’t obeying my Councilman very well.

“I think she’s here,” the younger sentry said, jerking me out of the fear-filled cloud in my head. “I want my knife back. I say we wait.”

“You’re the Unmanifested who missed when you had the chance. Wait if you want, boy. I’m done here. She’s long gone—and we’re wasting time. The only thing we’ve got on our side is this infernal weather.”

“What does that mean?”
“Come on, boy. Don’t they teach you anything at that school? Firemakers need heat. It’s a good thing this winter has been so cold—and so long. Now let’s go. This freak is fast, and my boss is impatient.” The Tarpulin sentry’s voice faded as he moved away.

After a moment, the Crylon sentry followed, whacking the plastic door as he went.

I waited until I was sure they’d gone, thinking about how the temperature affected me. I’d never noticed it before, but I could summon and control my fire more easily when it was warm.

I couldn’t shake the fact that two sentries were hunting me. And just thinking about Tarpulin made my hands shake as I pushed myself up, waiting for the feeling to come back into my legs. They felt like they’d never forgive me for pushing them to run all night. Each step proved painful, as the blisters on my feet rubbed against my shoes.

I discovered I’d been hiding behind a long coat hanging in the corner of the closet. I pulled it down and found gloves in one pocket. And in the other, something crinkled when I touched it.

I paused at the noise. Minutes passed, and no one showed up.

I pulled out the object, ignited one finger, and looked at the slim bar. The brown wrapper had writing I couldn’t read and made a lot of noise when I ripped it off. The bar inside was brown, crisscrossed with grayish lines.

I sniffed it, but smelled nothing. When I bit into it, the insides broke into little pieces. I found it disgusting—and gritty—but, hey, food was food.

I searched the closet for more to eat but came away empty. After slipping my arms into the too-big coat, I hobbled out into the room. The floorboards creaked. I froze with one foot hanging in midair. But no one came back.

Not daring to light more than a single finger, I searched the room. The desk drawer held more gritty bars, and I shoved all five of them in the front pocket of my hoodie.

I crept away from the plastic door, listening for the sentries. I heard nothing. After igniting both palms, I looked around. I stood at the mouth of a warehouse. Cracks ran in weaving patterns over the cement. Towering steel shelves held weeping cardboard boxes.

Cautiously, I moved forward, snuffed out the fire in one hand and pulled the nearest box toward me. A scratching sound scraped through the silence.

Status: Empty.

All the boxes on the lower shelf had been emptied. Maybe the city hadn’t been abandoned as fast as I’d supposed. I extinguished my other hand and let my eyes adjust to the dark.

After a few minutes, I could see well enough to hoist myself onto the shelf in front of me. Boxes: Barren.

I climbed up another shelf. Status: Dusty.

Then another. The top shelf held boxes that hadn’t been opened. I slashed through the tape with the sentry knife and pulled out two cans.

They had pop-top lids that grated on my nerves when I peeled them off. The smell wafting from the cans made my mouth water. I drained them both, balking a little at the chunks of meat. At least I thought it was supposed to be meat. Either way, the stew would provide enough energy to keep me going.

I had to travel light, so I only took four cans of stew, shoving one in each of my pockets, glad my jeans were of the cargo variety. The last two cans went in my coat pockets.

I jumped down from the tower of shelves just as lights buzzed on overhead. I crouched, squinting in the bright light. I’d only heard stories about electricity, the man-made light people used before the Manifestation.

“I knew you weren’t gone. Stand up, I already see you.” The young voice, still so familiar, sliced through the emptiness in the warehouse.

I straightened slowly. The Crylon sentry stood just inside the plastic door, a knife in one hand, and the other positioned in front of his body for balance.

His attack stance.

My own hands hung limply at my sides, the stolen knife tucked in my waistband. Without moving my head, I glanced around. What I saw: Shelves and more shelves.

“Gabriella Kilpatrick, you’re under arrest. You killed seventeen Elemental students in the northern barracks at the training school in the city of Crylon.”

“I did not,” I murmured, though it sounded like a shout in the spacious warehouse.

The sentry’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward. Without warning, he launched the knife. I dodged to the left and raised my hand. The blade skimmed my coat before embedding in the door behind me.

The ping! of metal on metal registered in my brain as I threw a plume of fire down the aisle. A couple of empty boxes caught the flames, and the soothing smell of smoke filled my head.

“You killed Harriett,” he said, stamping his steaming boots to extinguish the fire.

“A Watermaiden ought to be able to quench the flames,” I shot back.

“So it’s her fault?”

I shrugged. I hated Harriet Thornton, but that didn’t mean I’d torched her barracks. “I’m not saying that. I didn’t set that blazing fire.”

“When did your Element Manifest?”

I didn’t see why he cared, but I couldn’t think of a reason not to tell him. “Last fall.”

“Why didn’t you report it?”

Hot infernos. “I—”

“Do you know what the Supreme Elemental does to liars?”

“You don’t work for him.”

“Everyone works for him.” The scorn in his voice nagged at me again.

I hadn’t been paying attention, and the sentry had moved halfway down the aisle. “Don’t come any closer.” I raised my hands into my own attack stance, which was way less impressive than his.

“Why? You afraid you’ll recognize me? I’m surprised you haven’t yet.”

I studied his face. His square jaw sloped up into hollow cheeks. His brown eyes and brown hair weren’t extraordinary, except for a white spot of hair above his right ear.

“Patches,” I breathed out. I didn’t know which emotion ran hotter: Relief or rage.

Patches grinned, a gesture without happiness. “You do remember.”

“How could I forget? We lived together until you turned twelve. You—” I took a step forward, but he drew another knife. The motion was fluid, unrushed, and precise.

“Gabby—”

“Don’t you dare,” I said, the sound floating across the space between us. I recalled my stocky twelve-year-old best friend who threw rotten apples into the kitchen wastebasket with exactness. The cook had spotted his talent and reported it. He’d gone to train with the sentries the next day. He’d missed twice with his knives—on purpose.

He wouldn’t miss a third time.

His eyes glittered in the artificial light, true sentry’s eyes. Friendless. Emotionless.

“You should do something about your hair.” He threw his blade at the same moment I ducked and sent flames sliding along the cement. Another metallic clang behind me confirmed the door there.

As I straightened, Patches jumped to the lowest shelf, his pant leg flaming. I pulled one can from my pocket and flung it at him. I’d had plenty of practice in the kitchens too.

The can struck him in the middle of his forehead. He groaned, a sad, strangled sound, and sagged to the floor. Blood crawled over his forehead, covered his ear, stained his white patch of hair.

Horror and disbelief tore at my stomach. Sickened at what I’d done to my childhood friend, I gathered both blades from the door and fled the warehouse.

Bright sunlight blinded me, but a deafening alarm shrieked from the gaping door. Wherever the Tarpulin sentry was, he’d hear that siren. I seriously doubted a can of beef stew would stop him. Nothing could stop the will of the Supreme Elemental—and he’d sent his sentry for me. Surely his best sentry.

I stumbled down an alley slick with melting snow, attempting to put as much distance between me and Patches as possible.

I made it to the street before vomiting.

I melted a handful of snow to clean my face. The memory of Patches’s blood coating his white hair filled my mind. Remembering his words, I pulled up my hood to hide my incriminating hair and glanced behind me. Still no sentry. Now only the sickness knotting my stomach remained. Sure, I had the power to defend myself, but I’d never used it like that before. I’d thought about it—dreamed about it even—but never done it. And Patches was never the person on the receiving end.

I ran away from the alarm. I kept my eye on the sun and steered my course toward the southwest, no final destination in mind. Gradually, the high-rises became single-story homes with spots of yellow grass showing through the snow.

After a couple of hours, maybe more, I turned toward a house and scampered to the back door.

Drifting snow blocked the entryway, matting down organic debris and creating a sloppy, muddy mess. Upturned furniture littered the space, and all the cupboards had been thrown open. The air smelled of rotting leaves and wet wood.

A stove—I’d seen pictures in my classes—sat in one corner. This had to be a kitchen, but it wasn’t big enough. At school, we cooked for hundreds. I didn’t miss my work there, not a little bit. I’d just never considered that my future held a life somewhere else.

I searched the cupboards and came away with nothing. I explored the other rooms, finding a rusted toilet, bare mattresses, and what I thought was a television. Nothing happened when I pushed the buttons.

Even though the sun shone, the house felt cold and disturbingly empty. It reminded me of the communes, of myself.

I’d been born in the communes—like all children in Crylon—and moved to the school when I turned three. I’d returned to the communes only once—to see if I wanted to become a Communal Mother. My tour guide led me down a narrow path with tents on either side.

“Elemental men come to visit the Communal Mothers,” she said, a smile painted in place.

I heard the words that went unsaid. Men visited the communes with one goal: To produce more Elementals.

In front of us, a man with flushed cheeks and wearing a flowing emerald robe stepped out of a tent. A moment later, a beautiful girl, not much older than me, followed. “Sir. You forgot your gloves.”

She didn’t even know his name. He didn’t smile or thank her. He simply took his gloves and marched away. And she held her hands over her stomach like he’d just done her a huge favor.

I made my decision right then, though I finished my visit to the Communes. But the life of child-bearing, cooking, cleaning, and farming repulsed me. I’d rather die first, but I couldn’t blame the Unmanifested girls who chose Communal Motherhood over menial labor at the school or Councilman’s fortress. Death at a young age was hard to look straight in the face.

Life wasn’t much better for Unmanifested boys. If they couldn’t hack it in the brutal sentry courses, they lived in agricultural communities, separate from the Communal Mothers.

Since I’d vetoed the communes, my remaining choices became Educator or servant. But I didn’t choose. I drifted, somehow hoping something else would happen.

Like getting selected for a Council.

That prospect dominated my thoughts—until I Manifested my Element.

I worried my life would end if my firemaking ability was revealed, and I felt I’d die if it wasn’t. I didn’t want to personally experience the same fate as that female Firemaker who was executed, but living without being a Firemaker felt too caging, too unfair. See, Unmanifested girls were only good for repopulating the world or serving Elementals.

Elementals didn’t serve other Elementals. Watermaidens couldn’t sustain a pregnancy—their offspring drown in the womb—and therefore had to be selected for a Council. If they weren’t, they could become mentors, and that was all.

I remembered Cat’s anguish from last year. At the time, the Watermaiden courses offered at the school had been sparse, and no new mentors were being taken. If Cat didn’t get chosen for a Council, her only remaining option was exile. I’d spent the time before the selection ceremony trying to convince her that Isaiah would never leave her to wander the wilderness alone.

“You guys will always be together,” I had soothed, tucking a stray lock of Cat’s black hair behind her ear. “You’ll get chosen together.”

Tears had filled her wide eyes and rolled down her porcelain cheeks. “You think so?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer, because Isaiah had knocked on the door. I opened it while Cat composed herself.

Isaiah glanced at me briefly. “Gabbers,” he murmured.

I threw my arms around him, suddenly very aware that this might be the last time I saw him. He’d held me in his strong arms, and I’d leaned against his cocoa-colored skin, inhaling the scent of moss and earth.

“How is she?” he murmured.

I pulled away and watched him smooth his large hands over his bald head. “She’s okay.”

When Cat turned, I could tell she’d been crying. Isaiah could too. He strode over to her and took her in his arms. When they started kissing, I left.

And then they’d left me.

Exhaustion seeped into my bones and cramped in my calves as I shuffled down the hall. I leaned against the wall for support. In the first bedroom, I settled on the bare mattress and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to find my core warmth. Trying to get the sight of Patches falling to the ground out of my head. Trying to find a way to simply take one more breath.

I peeled off my shoes and socks using only my fingertips. My feet bore cracked and bleeding blisters. I hobbled into the bathroom and rinsed the blood from my socks with spurting orange water, leaving them to dry on the side of the sink.

I found nothing with which to cover my feet in the bathroom, so I limped back to the bedroom. I rifled through the closet, finding two T-shirts wadded up behind an old stringed instrument, a set of speakers, and a couple of empty plastic tubs. On a high shelf behind a rusty birdcage, I found a stocking cap, which I pulled over my head.

I used one of the T-shirts to clean away the ooze on my feet, and then I wrapped them in the cool cloth. I sighed as I lay back, pulling the hat lower over my eyes. I was tired enough to fall asleep despite the pain.

When I woke up, my stomach was clawing itself inside out. I popped the lid on a can of soup, infused it with heat, and slurped it down.

A window sat near the ceiling and sent fading light into the room. It reminded me of my dorm, of school. A pang of loneliness welled in my heart, along with a memory of Liz. But I couldn’t go there. I hadn’t been able to think about her in three months, and now wasn’t a good time to start.

I stood, testing my weight on my feet and legs. My knee didn’t hurt, and my muscles unknotted as I moved. I went into the bathroom and put on my socks and shoes with minimal pain. I looked at myself in a dirty mirror. With the hat, the weathered T-shirts, the hoodie, and the long coat, no one would mistake me for Gabriella Kilpatrick.

Yet my hair still streamed over my shoulders—a dead give-away that I wasn’t a boy.

Somehow, I wanted to find a way to live as both a Firemaker and a girl. And be unashamed of it. “You want a different reality,” I said to my reflection.

A crushing fist punched, punched against my chest. My lungs couldn’t expand properly. The walls of the house created a temporary prison. I squeezed my eyes shut against the blazing memories of my life in Crylon, trying to erase the hurt, the longing, the solitude I’d endured.

Resentment filled the empty places inside, rising and overflowing until my throat constricted. I didn’t need Jarvis to save me, to select me for his Council. I would find the Elementals I needed and charter my own. I would experience the magic that would bind me to other Elementals. I would ensure my own survival and protection.

To do all that, I had to lose the hair. I had to become someone else.

After yanking off the knitted cap, I hacked at my hair with a stolen knife. The evidence of my transformation fell into the sink. When I finished, only half an inch of dirty-blonde fuzz remained on my head.

I poured rusty water over my scalp, washing any stray hairs off my neck so it wouldn’t itch. Then I tucked the knife in the waistband of my jeans and pulled the hat and then my hood over my new masculine hairdo. I’d never been very feminine, but losing my hair seemed so final. Like I wasn’t really me anymore.

Come to think of it, though, I hadn’t been me for a long time. Manifesting my firemaking Element had changed me, yet I’d continued pretending I was the Unmanifested Gabriella Kilpatrick who worked in the kitchens, serving dinner to Elementals.

At least that burden had been lifted. But a new one had descended in its place.

I had to learn to survive in an unknown world, beyond the security of Crylon’s walls. I had to learn how to act like I knew exactly what to do in any situation. See, Firemakers always did. Men always did.

If I wanted to live, I had to pretend to be both.

I pulled on the gloves as I left through the broken back door. Crouching at the corner of the house, I looked both ways into the dark silence.

Despite the thumping of my heart inside a too-tight chest, I strode into the street and headed south. I trudged down the middle of a long-forgotten highway with half-melted snow and weathered signs.

I wrapped one of the T-shirts around my neck to keep out the unrelenting wind. Even with the collar on the coat turned up, icy tendrils of air found their way down my back.

It rained on and off for most of the next day. Bonus: The water cleared the snow from the asphalt. Double bonus: My lessons had been correct. The wilderness between cities was desolate, with only dilapidated buildings and miles of horizon. I hadn’t been allowed to take geography yet, and therefore had no idea how far I needed to go to find another city. I trudged on, determined to do what Educator Ostrund said couldn’t be done in the wilderness. Survive.

When I felt like I couldn’t take another step, I ate one of the crunchy bars and melted a handful of snow to drink. I passed the occasional broken-down building every now and then. If they weren’t too far off the road, I searched them for food. I always came away empty-handed.

As the sun dipped lower, I scanned the horizon for a place to spend the night. Only the black highway snaked in front of me. Snow banked the sides.

Finally, a brown brick building came into view. It looked like it might stay standing for one more night. Maybe. The way the wind howled, maybe not.

As soon as I stepped off the highway, my leg sunk into the half-melted snow. A burst of cold infused my bones. The sun dipped below the horizon after only four agonizing steps. Shivering and wet, I stood in chilly shadows.

I cursed with every squelching step, vowing to burn the building to the ground if it was locked.

Then the door opened.

I hit the ground before blinking. My breath felt hot against my nose and cheek, shallow as it was. The snow was even wetter from all the rain, and icy water seeped into my clothes. I’d never felt so cold. I couldn’t even feel the spark of fire inside.

“…lost her? And you’re just now reporting it? …no, I haven’t seen her, but I doubt she could have caught up to me. I’m thirty miles south of Crylon.” The sentry’s harsh voice faded, and a faint clang trembled in the night sky as the door closed.

I crept back to the highway, got up, and ran. My clothes froze to my body, but I didn’t dare stop. After a while, I didn’t think I could suck in another breath without my lungs freezing together. My legs and feet were screaming their protests at the running.

I spotted a boulder a few yards off the road. The wind whipped around me. My Element lay curled inside my chest. I pulled on it and held my hand out, palm down.

Nothing happened.

Scared and freezing, I thought I might die. I inhaled sharply, the frigid air blossoming into barbs in my chest. I called on my fire again. This time, the flames dripped from my fingers, sizzling as they met the snow. I cleared a path to the rock and curved my body into a hollow spot. With chattering teeth, I pressed my palms to the stone beside me and willed my fire into flames.

The rock drank the warmth greedily, and soon enough, echoed it back to me. The ice melted from my clothes, and I swallowed a handful of melted snow. I ate another bar, noting that I only had three bars and two cans of soup left.

To distract myself, I thought of the last time I’d seen Cat. I’d stood, waiting, staring out the narrow window in my dorm room. She’d knocked—much lighter than Liz.

I didn’t answer, but she came in anyway. The scent of lilacs accompanied her. They grew next to the western barracks, where she lived. Cat loved purple lilacs.

“Gabby, honey, you can’t stay in your room forever.”

“I know.” But I wanted to. My room signified my life—closed in by four walls.

“Jarvis keeps asking about you.”

“I saw him yesterday,” I said. “Nice try.”

“At least you’re smiling now,” she said.

She was right. A smile had formed on my face. “I assume Isaiah’s waiting for you.”

A pained look crept through her eyes. “He’s in the hall. He can’t stand good-bye’s.”

“Cat—”

“We won’t be in diplomacy training forever. And who knows? Maybe you’ll come to Tarpulin next year—with Jarvis.” Her smile accentuated her natural beauty.

See, Cat knew what I longed for. She had wanted the same things, just in a different way. She loved Isaiah; she wanted to marry him.

I didn’t want to marry Jarvis. I just didn’t want him to desert me too. I didn’t want to be alone. But I didn’t really have any other choices.

When I’d Manifested, though, I had a fourth “opportunity.” Wife. By law, all Watermaidens must marry a Councilmember. All female Councilmembers must marry, I amended in my head.

The whirring fans of a hovercraft wiped away the last cobwebs of sleep. The sound vibrated in my senses, coating them with fear. See, only sentries used vehicles.

The buzzing faded, moving back toward the abandoned city. I watched until I couldn’t see the vehicle anymore. Then I turned and ran the other direction. At least I tried. Yesterday’s rain had frozen overnight, leaving the black pavement shiny with ice. I fell more than once, but refused to stop. On the plus side: No snow meant no trail for a sentry to follow.

I drank a handful of water every hour or so. By nightfall, pale yellow lamps winked in the distance.

A city.

I passed my hands over my boyish haircut. I needed more time to prepare my cover story, so I walked as close to the cheery light as I dared and stopped. With the assistance of the half-moon, the city wall glared down at me.

A grove of trees a hundred yards off the road provided decent shelter from the wind. I hunkered down next to a thick trunk and tried to sleep.

Problem #1: The cold seeped into my very soul.

Problem #2: My stomach wasn’t happy with my dietary choices.

Problem #3: My feet twinged with pain. I felt sure I’d rubbed off my partially-healed blisters.

Problem #4: I couldn’t turn off my mind.

I need a boy’s name.

A boy’s voice.

A way through the city gates.

After a few hours, I gave up trying to sleep.

I gripped a can of soup, wanting my hands to smolder without bursting into fire. Bright flames erupted, and I cursed as I tried to shut off the power before someone saw, or I went blind.

Finally, the flames burned out. I shook my hands, thinking I desperately needed training to control my Element. At least my mistake had warmed the soup. I ate it quickly and snuck to the gate. With walls this short, and no forest to stand guard, I assumed this city was more of a village. I wondered if Councilman Ferguson controlled this region, or only the city of Crylon. I realized that I knew very little about the United Territories—in fact, only what my Councilman allowed me to know.

I did see the patchwork of fields along both sides of the highway I’d walked on. Surely Unmanifested workers had to leave the city to tame the fields. With my back pressed to stone, I waited. Hopefully, no one would pay attention to another person in rags.

The sky lightened by degrees until finally the gate opened. I shrank back as the door widened.

Footsteps sounded.

I slunk to the edge of the door.

No one glanced up.

I slipped toward the entrance. Just a few more feet….

“Hey!”

I jumped but kept moving. A man with arms the size of tree trunks strode toward me. “You there!”

Automatically, I dropped my gaze to the ground. The guard came closer. I kept moving toward the open street beyond the city wall.

He stepped. I stepped.

“Your shovel,” he said. He held something toward a man in line.

I ran the last few steps into the city and found refuge in the shadows along the wall.

This city was much more primitive than Crylon, and I knew instantly that it had to house only Unmanifested people. Elementals would never live in the conditions I saw before me.

The roads were dirt—okay, more like mud with the unrelenting weather—and the houses patched together with poles and leaves. People wore mismatched clothes; their hair and faces looked dirty and pinched.

I stared as the guards closed the gate and continued down the street. I watched as the few people who were out moved with purpose, accomplishing their tasks quickly and without commotion. They looked driven, but happy. I’d never heard of a city—okay, village—where only Unmanifested people lived. I wondered what the Supreme Elemental gained by letting them live apart from the rest of society.

Maybe they don’t, I thought, throwing a look over my shoulder as if I’d find a Firemaker there, his eyes blazing with angry flames. The alley lay empty, but I still speculated that the Supreme Elemental would never allow Unmanifested people to congregate and govern themselves.

While our current Supremist wasn’t as cruel as the first Firemaker, he still ruled the United Territories with fear and the promise of death if his laws weren’t obeyed. Yet these Unmanifested people didn’t appear afraid. I watched a mother lead her two children through the driest part of the road, a basket of apples tucked against her side. She smiled at one boy, and slipped her hand around the shoulders of the other. Poor, sure. Without powers, yes. But unafraid.

I stuck to the shadows as I crept along the alley. When I spied a trash bin, I rummaged inside and found some crusts of bread and half an apple. I tucked them into my coat pockets and darted behind a shack. A stand of trees stretched along this side of the village.

I walked under bare branches until I came to a small clearing. Trails etched patterns in the snow, creating crisscrossing paths across the open space. I paused, enjoying the cozy silence which allowed me to feel unafraid for the first time since I’d Manifested.

After eating my meager meal, I leaned against a tree and closed my eyes, intending to rest for just a minute.

I woke up when I heard bells ringing, a signal for the field workers to return to the city before the gate closed. I sat up and looked toward the sound. I rubbed my hands together, igniting them just long enough to feel the warmth.

The wind increased, and I pulled my hood over my hat to keep the air off my neck. But this was a different wind—not full of icy fury.

No, this wind felt Elemental.

I scanned the clearing, seeing no one. What if the Airmaster had seen me warming my hands? Flaming fingertips were hard to explain. I scooted around the tree trunk as the snow across from me crunched under heavy footsteps.

The intruder wore filthy black pants with a green jacket. He had the pinched, unhealthy look of someone who hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days. He swirled his hand, and the wind raced into the trees, sending down a shower of nuts.

My stomach roared with hunger, and it took all my willpower to stay still. Another Elemental. And he was eating.

The wind danced around him, tousling his sandy curls. He looked to be a few years older than me, maybe nineteen or twenty. His eyes darted around the clearing, almost as if he knew I was hiding there, watching him.

Then the wind surrounding him died. He flattened himself into a snow bank just as a chicken strutted toward an exposed patch of earth under a tree. A moment later, the guy shot to his feet, his hands held in front of him. The bird squawked once before the air flattened it to the ground. The animal suffocated in a few seconds, and the guy chose a meandering path toward it.

Holy hot infernos, I thought. Horrified—and a little awed—I stepped from behind the tree. The boy bent over to retrieve his kill. I moved into the open, scuffing my feet against the snow-packed ground.

The Airmaster spun, hiding the dead chicken behind his back. “Who are you?”

“I thought maybe we could share,” I said, sauntering down a path that ran parallel to him in what I hoped could pass for a masculine gait. “Considering how you killed that chicken, it’s only fair.”

With his secret revealed, his face paled. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“How were you planning to cook it?” My voice sounded too casual, and the boy’s eyes narrowed.

“Why? You know something I don’t?”

“Undoubtedly.” I stopped a few yards away from him. “How do you usually eat it?”

“Raw,” he said, his voice laced with warning. “Fire is hard to come by in villages like this.”

I considered his blue eyes. His sloping nose. How he stood feet shoulder-width apart without any tension in his neck. With him, I’d be on my way to a Council of my own. That sealed the deal.

“Not really.” I snapped my fingers. A flame erupted in my palm.

He took a step back, his eyes locking on mine.

“We can share.” I licked my lips, the taste of that chicken already in my mouth.

He moved forward, creating his own haphazard path in the snow, and pumped my unburning hand twice. “Deal. My name’s Adam. And you are…?”

I swallowed my girl name. “Gabe. You got someplace to crash? Or am I gonna have to melt a bunch of this snow to make a fire?”

He smiled, and by the looks of his teeth, he’d had a nice home at one time. “Got a cave a coupla miles to the east.”

“Great. Rocks hold heat for a long time.” I grinned back, hoping it didn’t look too girly.

He tromped off, and I extinguished the fire in my hand before following. I breathed a sigh of relief before catching up to Airmaster Adam.

He’d believed I was a boy.

Hunger clawed at my belly. I wasn’t sure I’d survive the two-mile walk to Adam’s cave. We emerged on the main road as the city gates cranked shut for the evening. Weary workers turned in their tools and shuffled into side streets. Some moved toward a single-story hut with a torch burning brightly above the door.

Relief filled my weary body when the gate closed all the way—it would be morning before the sentries could enter.

Adam and I made it to the end of the street before the bells rang. He turned back, frowning.

The gates slowly moved apart, and the hovercraft slipped in through the gap. The Tarpulin sentry jumped down, already scanning the townspeople frozen in the street. Patches joined him, wearing a white bandage on his forehead. I hadn’t killed him, and the relief flooding me weakened my knees.

But he still wanted to kill me, so I didn’t spend any time rejoicing.

Fighting the urge to run, I ducked between two buildings and then into the shadows behind a shed. I was surprised when Adam joined me.

“This is bad,” he breathed, his mouth not moving.

“No kidding.” I struggled to keep my voice masculine.

“Shh. Listen.”

The Tarpulin sentry had started talking. His booming voice easily carried to us. “…burned to the ground. Though Forrester is an Unmanifested village, if you see this girl—or any Elemental—we need to know.”

I sucked in a breath on the word girl. Next to me, Adam was practically hyperventilating.

“What’s happening?” I tried to peer around him, but he turned and shoved me away from the main street, toward the trees littering the landscape.

“We gotta go.” He ran past me into the grove. My mind had no complaints about leaving the sentries behind, so I followed. My feet, however, throbbed with pain, and I had a hard time keeping up.

Especially since Adam could literally fly. He wove through trees, doubled back, climbed a hill when we could’ve gone around. We definitely covered more than two miles with the winding route he took to the cave.

When we finally made it, I collapsed in the dirt, thoroughly lost, dizzy, and on the verge of passing out. Chest heaving from the thirty-minute sprint, I closed my eyes and ignored the painful clenching in my gut, the ache in my knee, and the bloody mess I’d find in my socks.

“Sorry,” Adam panted. “Didn’t…want to be…followed.”

“I could barely…keep up with you.”

Some scuffling sounded next to me and then Adam’s footsteps echoed off the walls.

I sat up, and my head started to spin again. I groaned. “See anything?”

He stood in the cave entrance, a silent silhouette. I ignited one hand.

“Put that out!” he hissed, dragging something in front of the opening. “Tornadoes, Gabe, are you stupid?”

I extinguished my hand before he finished pulling the lattice of branches and leaves into place, drenching the cave in darkness. A lump formed in my throat at the sudden rush of adrenaline I felt. He’d trapped me in this cave.

“Now light us up,” he said.

“You got firewood?” I asked, forcing down the panic and trying to act cool.

“Yeah, hang on a sec.”

He moved behind me, then dumped some kindling at my feet. He was so close, his body heat melted into mine. I itched to move away from his foreign warmth. Instead, I clapped once, sending droplets of fire splashing to the ground. I held one hand over the wood as it caught fire. Adam teased it with a playful breeze. Within minutes, the flames chased away the shadows and the chill of the stones.

Adam began plucking the chicken. I watched, memorizing his movements so I could copy him later. He piled the feathers neatly, then scooped them up and took them to the corner of the cave. He pulled out a sack half the size of a pillow and stuffed the feathers inside. When he came back, he held a stick that had been carved into a crude knife.

Everything he did happened in a calm manner, reminding me of Isaiah. Everything about Isaiah screamed cool! He’d invented a clever nickname for everyone he met. Mine was Gabbers. It made me feel important to him. Special.

Everyone thought they were something special to Isaiah. And maybe they were. He just had that oozing charisma that drew people to him.

Since Cat and I spent a fair amount of time together, Isaiah and I became great friends. He didn’t say much, but when he spoke, I listened. One time he said, “Don’t underestimate yourself, Gabbers.”

The end. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t drone on the way Educator Ostrund did. He didn’t appraise me with loathing the way the cook did. He wasn’t looking for me to do anything, say something, be someone.

And I loved him for it.

Along with that cool, charming side came strength. Power poured from his broad shoulders. He kept his head shaved almost completely bald, and with his dark skin and nearly black eyes, more than one girl followed his movements in the dining hall.

But he entered every room hand in hand with Cat. They’d leave the same way. Everyone knew whose he was.

His hands were large, nearly double mine, and when I came home from work broken, they held me as I sobbed into his shoulder. They rubbed the knots out of my back and erased the worry from my feet.

“Gabbers, you gotta get outta that place,” he’d say, adding water to his precious earth and making a mud treatment for my neck. “When are you gonna pick your track?”

Even with my body screaming for a release from the kitchens, I couldn’t choose. I didn’t tell Isaiah why.

But he knew: I was waiting for a Council.

Watching Adam work, I thought that a Council might just be possible for me. He moved a few feet away to a stained, flat stone and placed the chicken on it. When he looked at me, a hard look pulled at the corners of his eyes.

I almost laughed. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Sometimes I can’t get the head off the first time.”

“You’re going to cut it with that stick? No way.” I suddenly understood why the steel had come into his eyes.

“You got a better idea?”

“Yeah, use this.” I pulled a knife from my belt and tossed it on the ground.

He slowly lowered his makeshift weapon and stared at the silver blade gleaming in the firelight. He didn’t pick it up. “Where’d you get that?”

I looked anywhere but at him. “Found it.”

A moment passed in silence. When I finally tore my eyes away from the dancing fire, Adam was staring at me. “I don’t believe you. That’s a sentry’s blade. They don’t get lost.” He crossed his arms. “Who are you, anyway? Where you from?”

I stood up and fingered the other two knives under my hoodie. “I’m Gabe Kilpatrick. I’m from Crylon.”

Adam straightened too. He had a couple of inches on me. “Crylon burned to the ground. You…you did that.”

“No, I didn’t,” I said. “Crylon was still standing when I left. Besides, that sentry said a girl did it.” There had been Watermaidens on the scene. I’d watched the fire die. How—and when?—had the whole city of Crylon burned to the ground? The sky had been clear when I walked down the highway, away from Crylon, away from the hair that made me Gabby, away from the only life I knew.

Adam’s jaw unclenched, and he crouched again. I dropped my hands, grateful I didn’t have to reveal the other two knives. He wouldn’t believe any story I invented for having three sentry knives. I didn’t even believe what had happened.

“Why’d you leave?” he asked. With the knife, the chicken’s head came off easily, and Adam skewered the bird and placed it over the fire. He wiped the blood from the knife and balanced it in his hand.

I swallowed, finding my throat too dry. Adam had experience with knives—just the way he held it testified of that.

“Well?” he asked. “Sit down, you’re making me nervous. Why’d you leave Crylon? I’ve been trying to get there for months.”

“Get there?”

“Yeah, the Elemental training facility. Didn’t you go to school?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Uh, I finished school, that’s why I left.”

“You finished?” He spun the knife over and around the back of his hand, catching the hilt at the last moment. He stared into the flames, but then he looked at me, a knowing glint in his eye.

I shrugged and looked away. See, no one “finishes” school in mid-March. And no one leaves their city unless they were being taken to Tarpulin for diplomacy training.

After a few minutes, he said, “I don’t believe you, you know. No one leaves their city without a Council. And since you’re a Firemaker, you’d be the Councilman, have your choice of Elementals. It’s pretty weird, you showing up on the same day as two sentries.”

“Just coincidence.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t care what you think, Airmaster.” I glared at him, ready to draw the other two knives despite the fact that I had no idea how to use them.

He shook his curls out of his face. “I think you’re the Firemaker who torched Crylon. So that means…you’re also a girl.”

He’d said the dirty word: Girl.

I jumped to my feet, a knife clenched in each hand. I backed away as he stood to face me. He gaped at the two knives. I wished my hands weren’t shaking. Even so, Adam looked petrified.

He held the knife in his right hand as the fear slid from his face. His knuckles weren’t white like mine. The blade shone with firelight—and it looked like it belonged in his palm. He made a tiny adjustment in his grip, turning the point toward my chin. “Am I right?” he asked, the sound barely louder than the crackling fire.

“N-no,” I stammered. “I didn’t burn Crylon.”

He cocked his head to one side. “But you are the Firemaker those sentries are after.”

“Maybe.” I swallowed against the nervous lurch in my gut. What would he do now? I was starving and exhausted, and I already knew I couldn’t use the knives. The image of Patches falling to the ground still haunted me.

Adam spun his knife at the same time he lunged at me. I cried out as he pinned my arms to my sides in one swift movement and we stumbled backward together. He righted me and stood behind me now, one arm wrapped around me and the other still spinning that blazing knife.

“What’s your real name?” His breath washed over my neck, causing me to flinch at his nearness.

“Gabriella Kilpatrick. Gabby.” I gritted my teeth, ready for the disgust to replace the mild interest in his voice.

Adam nodded slowly, the motion rocking my body slightly. “I’m Adam Gillman.” His words didn’t carry any disgust, but I couldn’t see his face to be sure.

“I didn’t burn Crylon.” I shifted my feet, hoping he’d release me.

“Drop the knives before you hurt yourself. I believe you.”

I did as he said, flinching with the clatter of steel on packed dirt. I didn’t move, even after Adam let me go and stabbed his knife in the soil as he sat down. Relief flooded me at the distance he put between us. I didn’t want him touching me again. He rotated the chicken, which had charred as we’d gone through our version of formal introductions.

“You got something else on your mind?” he asked, flicking his fingers against the burnt meat.

“You don’t care that I’m a…a girl?” I said it like it was a horrible thing to be.

He rotated the chicken again, carefully avoiding my gaze. “What I care about,” he said, standing again, “is that you’re honest with me.”

The fire popped as the fat from the chicken dripped. I noticed that he didn’t answer my question. I narrowed my eyes, the smell of food clouding my ability to think. He stood there, unwavering.

“Okay,” I said. “Honesty policy.”

Adam didn’t smile. I bristled at his demeaning glare. “The policy works both ways. You totally care that I’m a girl. Have you ever met a female Firemaker before?”

His eyes traveled from my feet to the top of my head. “You don’t look like a girl.”

Again, he didn’t answer my question. I opened my mouth to tell him where to go, but he said, “Look, I’ll just say it. I need you to survive. Together, we might be able to charter a Council. I’m no saint, I’ll admit, but the last thing I want is to go back to Tarpulin.”

“So that’s why you ran,” I said. “You recognized that sentry. He’s wearing—”

“The Tarpulin seal, yeah. I know him. That’s Alex’s personal sentry, Felix Gillman. He’s my mentor—and my brother.”

The silence stretched as I struggled to make sense of his words. “Mentor? As in…you were training to be a sentry? Isn’t there an Elemental school in Tarpulin?”

“Not anymore,” Adam said, his voice flat. “Alex buried the Academy under a mountain a year ago. That’s why I left. All the schools in the southern regions have been destroyed. I’m only alive because Alex doesn’t know I’m Elemental. I’d been on the sentry track for twelve years.”

My thoughts went straight to Cat and Isaiah. If the school in Tarpulin was buried, where had they been for the past year? Were they all right?

“All the schools in the Southern region?” I asked.

“Yup. I’ve been hopping from school to school, managing to escape before the flood or the earthquake. Crylon was the last school in the whole Union—and now it’s burned.”

“I didn’t do it,” I said automatically.

“I know. Felix did. How do you think he got here so fast? All the way from Tarpulin?”

I didn’t know how far Tarpulin was, but I kept that to myself. “But he’s not Elemental.”

“He can strike a match.”

“But why?”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t know much about Alex, do you?”

Anger burned through my veins. And why did he keep calling the Supremist by his first name? Talk about disrespectful.

“I didn’t get to attend Firemaker lessons. In case you haven’t figured it out, no one knew I was Elemental either. But I know who Supremist Pederson is. Everyone in the United Territories is afraid of him. He’s quick to punish the littlest offense.”

“He’s also a girl,” Adam said, staring at me fully now.

I couldn’t get enough air. My heart squeezed, squeezed. “Wh—What?”

“Alex is a woman.” Adam enunciated each word carefully. “And she possesses all four Elements.”

I stared at him as he peeled the blackened skin off the chicken. All four Elements? No one could control all four Elements—they couldn’t be learned, and Jarvis said they couldn’t be taken. “No way.”

“Way, man…uh, I mean….” He stuffed some burnt chicken in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to finish that sentence.

“I don’t believe you.” I couldn’t believe him. I mean, had she pretended to be a man her whole blazing life? Would I have to do that?

“You can believe whatever you want. It’s the truth. I served her for six months. And girls have some…telling parts.” He passed me some meat, and the silence settled thick and heavy as we ate. But even ash tasted better with protein.

“So if you know the Supreme Elemental is a woman, how come I didn’t know?”

“You’re only told what your Councilman wants you to know.” He scanned my shorn hair. “Besides, she wears her hair like you and has a specially made vest to…cover herself. If you saw her in Crylon, she’d look like a man.”

My fire roared in my head. Smoke trickled from my fingertips, and I inhaled it deeply, letting it curl in my lungs, soothe my rising fear. The Manifestation happened a couple hundred years ago, and a new Supremist was appointed every fifteen years. Our current leader was only five years into his—oops, her—appointment. Men ruled everything. Men were sentries. Men were Firemakers, Airmasters, Earthmovers. Most Councilmen chose men as their Unmanifested as well, because of the nature of the position. The Unmanifested had to ensure the Councilman’s orders were carried out, whether that was a punishment they enforced personally, or if they decided to send sentries to resolve a problem.

Women served Elementals, or taught, or carried babies. The only societal position of power was that of Watermaiden, but even that was tamed by marriage to another Councilmember. If anyone, anywhere, found out Supremist Pederson was a woman, chaos would descend.

“So she hides her gender,” I mused, more to myself than to Adam. “Because she doesn’t want a—”

“Revolution.”

I sucked in a breath, desperate for the smoke to calm my nerves as it usually did. It only served to make my thoughts race faster. I reflected back on a time when Jarvis and I walked side-by-side. I wouldn’t Manifest my Element for another two months, and the silence hung easily in the late summer air.

“Rumor has it the Supremist journeyed clear up to Newton.” He didn’t look up from the ground. His mouth had barely moved.

As Elemental royalty, he always heard news faster than I did. “Really? Why? And where’s Newton?”

“It’s one of the smaller cities north of us. There was an uprising,” he’d whispered. “Crylon took in three new Firemakers, one Watermaiden and two Airmasters.”

“No Earthmovers?”

“All dead.”

A twig snapped, and Jarvis spun, one hand cocked back as if to throw something.

The trees fluttered with a gentle breeze. No one could be seen. He lowered his hand, glanced at me, and nodded me off the path. Once we’d made it deeper into the woods, he sat against a large oak tree.

“Did the Supremist close the school?” I asked.

“Burned it.” Jarvis plucked at a bit of bark. “Rumor is he said he didn’t want any of their ‘traitorous blood’ in the gene pool. The new Firemaker in my year hasn’t spoken a word. Won’t come out of his dorm.”

I settled next to him, cross-legged, and listened to the wind whisper secrets to the leaves. I’d always known the Supremist was cruel, but burning an Elemental school?

I couldn’t fathom the Supremist executing Elementals. “Sounds like a major uprising,” I said, my voice a tight fit in my throat.

“That’s just it,” Jarvis said. “The Airmaster said it was just a misunderstanding between the Councilman and one of the female Educators.”

I’d thought of Educator Graham. Of our discussions.

“You need to be careful, Gabby.” Jarvis placed his hand—shockingly hot at the time—over mine. “Isn’t your Educator a woman?”

“Yeah.” And I loved her, but she would never do anything that would remotely resemble a misunderstanding.

Jarvis had squeezed my fingers and let go. He hadn’t said anything else.

But now that conversation mingled with the one about the female Firemaker that had been accused of stealing another’s power. It couldn’t be the Supremist, but if exposed, she would lose her control over the United Territories. She would definitely end up dead. And she had clearly done everything required to make sure no one discovered her secret. She’d killed Elementals, buried schools. She wouldn’t hesitate to kill me, or anyone else, if that meant she could keep pretending to be a male Firemaker.

I glanced at Adam as he ate and gazed into the fire. I didn’t trust him. What kind of guy lunges at a girl and pins her arms to her sides? He hadn’t quite held the knife to my neck, but almost.

“For the record, I don’t think female Elementals are all that different than males,” Adam said, turning toward me. “But the laws stem from the Manifestation.” He sounded sincere, even with that distinct edge of steel in his voice.

“Hard to overcome two centuries of time,” I murmured, still trying to sort through my conversations with Jarvis and what a female Supremist meant for me.

Adam left me next to the fire, thinking through what a revolution would do to the United Territories. Where I would end up when everything settled.

His long silence caught my attention, and I turned around. He stood with his back to me, revealing a large black tattoo—a swirling mass of intricate lines arcing around an orange circle—sweeping between his shoulder blades. His muscles were tight and developed, and I stared much too long.

I’d only seen a mark like that one other time. On Patches’s back last fall, two weeks before I’d Manifested my Element. His tears of pain were still bleeding over his face when he’d dragged himself into my dorm room.

He’d lain on his stomach while I tended to the angry flesh between his shoulder blades. The coiling lines and orange rotating disc had looked remarkably sinister in the candlelight. “Patches…what?” I’d asked. “Is this electronic?”

“The orange eye is,” he’d said. “It collects data and transmits information. Our individual assignments are uploaded to our personal eye.”

I’d pressed my lips into a thin line. “Can it be removed?”

“The mark of a sentry never goes away,” he’d wept.

We didn’t leave the room for three days. Liz brought medication and food. Patches spoke only eleven more words. And they were, “I can’t see you anymore, Gabby. You know, sentries and girls….”

The weight on my chest increased, pushing, pushing the air out of my life. I’d nodded, a hole widening inside. After he’d gone, I filled it with anger. With resentment. Those things never abandoned me. Never said I wasn’t good enough. Never wanted me to be more or less than what I already was.

Adam pulled a T-shirt over his sentry mark, and I ducked my head. I tossed our chicken bones in the glowing embers and super-heated them. He dragged his bedroll across the cave and sat next to me. Close enough to be friendly, but not so close as to get stabbed.

I reminded myself that he’s spent twelve years training to kill people.

I remembered a lecture about sentries and Councilmen from Educator Graham. Her wizened face had held extra lines that day. “Gabriella, you question too much.”

“But if we have a Councilman who can control fire, why does he need sentries?” I’d been thinking about Patches. About his tattoo.

“Sentries are appointed as bodyguards.”

I noted the way her mouth drooped when she’d said it. Her sign of a lie. “They kill people,” I said.

Educator Graham closed her book, sighing. “Yes. Because their Councilman tells them to. The Councilman is the public figure, Gabriella. It’s his face everyone knows. It’s his charm that wins him cities, followers. He cannot simply burn everything to the ground when he’s displeased.”

I considered her words. “So they send sentries to let the people know their…displeasure?”

“Yes. Besides the Unmanifested member of a Council, sentries are the highest rank of the Unmanifested.” She placed one wrinkled hand over mine. “Your friend is fortunate to have been marked so early.”

Fortunate rattled in my head. That tattoo with its winking electronic eye hadn’t looked fortunate.

“The sentry system is another way Supremist Pederson keeps the Unmanifested from revolting.” Her words had tickled my curiosity, as she knew they would. She spoke them in a voice barely heard over the thrum of my pulse, but they ignited loud questions.

“How?”

Educator Graham let a bitter smile skate over her face. “He sends one Unmanifested to kill another. That way it’s not Elemental against Unmanifested, is it?”

“Is that why girls can’t be sentries?”

She shook her head. “Girls cannot be sentries because the Supremist has declared them unfit.”

“He’s declared them unfit for everything,” I’d complained.

Educator Graham cast a glance toward the locked door. “Women control the water. There has never been a male Watermaiden.”

I laughed then, the sound real and carefree, as I imagined a man wearing a ruffled dress and singing soprano. “I’d like to see that.”

She’d chuckled with me before the silence settled again. She always let me think until I had another question. But she spoke first this time.

“Besides, Gabriella, most women are content with their lives.”

Cat’s face flashed through my mind. She’d been so scared she wouldn’t get selected for a Council. Not only because she loved Isaiah, but because she knew what would happen if she didn’t get chosen at all. She didn’t mind being a wife, though that didn’t make Educator Graham’s words any less cutting.

“Really?” I asked. “They’re satisfied being breeders? Or wives first and Watermaidens second? That’s if they get chosen to be Councilmembers at all. Otherwise they become servants, or are banished to die on the plains.”

Educator Graham stood, her eyes focused on the door. My voice had increased in both pitch and volume. She switched her gaze to me, and I saw something truly frightening in her eyes.

Fear.

“Watermaidens use their power to serve their Councilmen.” Her voice did not waver.

“But they can control water,” I argued, thinking of Cat and how I’d seen her call the moisture from the ground with a single note. “Why settle?”

I didn’t remember what Educator Graham’s answer was. I only remember she did not show up for class the following day.

My new Educator became Educator Ostrund. He had slick black hair and olive skin. His first rule: “Ask no questions.”

And I knew. Just as Jarvis had hinted, Councilman Ferguson had sent his sentry to take care of Educator Graham. Unmanifested against Unmanifested.

And I was alone again. With my endless guilt. My widening anger.

“I don’t have anything for you to sleep on,” Adam said, interrupting the increasing wave of resentment. His tattoo screamed at me not to trust him. I reminded myself of Patches. We’d been best friends, roommates. He’d come to me when they marked him, then he’d cut me out of his life as completely as if I didn’t exist. He threw knives at me. Well, I didn’t need him either.

I didn’t need anybody.

“It doesn’t matter,” I answered. “This cave should hold the heat well enough.” The blackness swallowed the ceiling, leaving me to wonder how far it stretched.

“We’ll have to leave in the morning,” he said. “Head south again. It’s too bad. Nobody in Forrester misses a chicken here and there. Tornadoes, I hate being hungry.”

I glanced at him as he poked around in the coals with a stick. I hesitated. His shirt hid the incriminating tattoo, but not the fact that he hadn’t answered any of my questions.

“I have some stuff,” I finally said.

I unloaded my pockets and laid the three crunchy bars and the last can of soup on the ground. My gloves, the T-shirts, the coat, and the stocking cap joined the pile. “We can share. I…I—well, honesty policy. I need you too.”

He rifled through my stuff before looking at me. “Your shoes look good, you’ve already got layers on. Gloves will be useful…where’re those knives?”

I didn’t tell him about the pitiful condition of my feet, despite how good my shoes looked. I reached to my waistband. “You promise?”

Adam didn’t blink or smile. He cleared his throat a couple of times. He could’ve been blushing, but he suddenly had something fascinating to watch in the fire, which painted his cheeks with a red glow. “You’re my Councilman, my Firemaker. From now on, I go where you go.”

He didn’t look at me, and the cave filled with awkward silence. Making a decision I hoped I wouldn’t regret, I placed both knives in the pile. “Okay, Airmaster. You think you can take directions from a girl?”

His gaze raked over my hair, his eyes locked on mine. “All I see is a Firemaker.”

I held his gaze, waiting for something that wasn’t a non-answer. I wanted to trust Adam, but it would be foolish. I mean, he was a trained sentry—already marked.

“Besides,” he said, pushing around some coals. “Your hair looks nothing like girls I’ve seen.”

I raised my eyebrows. A moment later he laughed, deep and clear. He would never listen to me, even if I did become a Councilman. “Really classy,” I said.

The happiness in his gaze faded. “I’ve already pledged to serve on your Elemental Council, what else do you need?”

“I saw your tattoo,” I blurted out. His eyes gleamed in the firelight, the way Patches’s had under those electric lights. Emotionless. Unyielding.

He blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they held sadness. “I won’t hurt you. We’ll keep pretending you’re a boy. That’s the best way to survive until we charter our Council.”

Another answer-that-wasn’t-really-an-answer, but I decided I didn’t care. With him, I was one step closer to the magical bond of chartering. “Sure, okay.”

A smile brushed his lips. He picked up the knife and ran his thumb along the hilt. “We’ll head to Gregorio in the morning. I’ve heard rumors of an Unmanifested revolution there. Their Councilman doesn’t like Alex’s new educational policies very much, and he’s actually encouraging his Unmanifested to fight.”

“You think he’ll charter my—our—Council?”

He straightened his blanket before lying down and folding the denim over himself. “I don’t know. He’s unconventional, so he’s our best bet. We’ll talk strategy in the morning. Night…Gabe.”

“Yeah, night,” I said, preoccupied with my own thoughts. Adam seemed willing to accept me as his Firemaker—his Councilman even—but I didn’t truly believe anyone else would.

I sighed and spread my coat on the ground directly across from Adam. Before closing my eyes, I gave the fire a final blast of flame. I slept facing Adam. I dreamt of sentries, their spiraling tattoos, and raging tornadoes.

And a world where women could be blazing talented Firemakers.

Rough hands shook my shoulders, much the same way the cook in Crylon used to. “Get up. The sentries are here. We have to go out the top.” Adam’s urgent voice chased away any thoughts of my past service in the kitchens.

I scrambled to my feet, pulled on the coat, and covered my head with my hood. Panicked, I patted the ground for the rest of my gear. Gone. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Adam. I shouldn’t have unloaded everything I’d found, shouldn’t have shared, shouldn’t have fallen asleep at all.

The guy was a trained sentry. He’d physically assaulted me once, and now he’d left me abandoned in a cave in the middle of an Unmanifested village—with his sentry brother on my tail. Anger clawed through me with the desperation as I turned uselessly in a circle, trying to see something in the absolute darkness.

“Come on!” Adam hissed, sending a river of relief through my veins.

I sprinted in the direction of his voice, my tired muscles groaning and my injured feet bursting with pain. I hadn’t had the time or the means to dress them properly before falling asleep.

Adam pushed me in front of him. “Climb.”

Easier said than done. See, I didn’t dare light my fingertips, and I didn’t think darkness could be this, well, dark. The stone had small divots in it, a far cry from stairs. I had to balance on tiny footholds and dig my fingertips into the unyielding rock.

Adam never spoke, but his breath came hot and close. Every step felt like needles in my feet. My fingers flinched with each touch against rock. I moved too slow, like I was underwater, but the thought of plummeting to my death forced me to check and double-check each hold before I leaned my body weight into it. The chill in the cavern pulsed against my exposed face and made the pain in my fingertips more pronounced.

Eventually the passage narrowed, and I stopped, unable to continue. “What now?” I adjusted my feet to hold my weight and shook the stiffness out of my hands.

“Here, let me go first. Hold this.” The rough canvas of a pack met my frozen fingers as he shoved it at me. I grunted under the weight, then sucked in a breath as Adam put both hands on my waist and somehow squeezed past me using invisible footholds. He released me quickly, apologizing, and took the pack again.

I heard him brush his hand across the rock. He mumbled something to himself. He finally released the breath he’d been holding. “There it is. Step here,” he whispered, fumbling for my hand and placing it on a ledge in the stone. “Feel with your feet, it’s like a ladder.”

“Step where?” The rock felt slippery, with no ridges for even so much as a fingertip.

“Hold on with your hands. There’re rungs carved in the stone for your feet.”

Shouts echoed below me, but I didn’t look down. Adam and I cursed at the same time, and then he stepped, climbing straight up.

He moved above me, but I never touched his shoes, never caught up to him. He used a blast of wind to blow open a hole, and a beam of moonlight brightened the passage.

Then his gloved hand found mine, and he hauled me out of the hole. Thankful to be surrounded by fresh air again, I bent over and took several deep breaths.

“Let’s go.” Adam started down the hill, and I jogged to keep up. I wanted to ask him what time it was, how those sentries had found us, how many miles to Gregorio.

I said nothing.

We passed through the trees, paused, and ducked into an alley. Then to a house. Building by building, we crept toward the towering city wall. And the closed gate, the one separating us from freedom.

Adam moved with the precision of a trained sentry, something that didn’t bring me comfort.

He darted into the shadows next to the wall. I followed and asked, “And now?”

“There’s a burrow around here somewhere. Goes right under this wall.” He stomped the ground next to the stones, moved a few feet to the right, and stomped again. I kept glancing behind me, expecting to see looming shadows in the shape of sentries.

Finally, on one of Adam’s stomps, the ground echoed. He dropped to his knees. He scooped away the earth and sent a blast of wind into the hole.

“Follow me. Push this through.” He removed the pack and slithered in on his back, head first and pushing himself through with his feet. As he disappeared, a slight tremor of panic shook my body.

No way the bulky pack could fit through that hole. I didn’t know how Adam managed to fold his broad shoulders into it. I couldn’t contort myself like that.

The faint barking of dogs filtered into my ears. My pulse quickened. Contortionist or not, I knelt and shoved the pack into the opening. I followed head-first on my stomach so I could use my legs to push.

Just as I knew it would, the blazing pack jammed. I rammed it with my shoulder, bracing myself against the frozen ground. Adam called for me to push while he pulled.

Status: Stuck.

I lay half inside the tunnel, half outside. The barking grew louder, and a faint rumble disturbed the earth. We tried again, Adam pulling while I pushed. The pack maybe moved an inch. Maybe.

“Can’t you use air pressure?” I growled, nowhere near loud enough for him to hear.

“Wrong direction.” His answer came faintly through the tunnel.

Barking: Increasing.

Earth: Full-on shaking.

Sentries: Yelling. Close by.

“Adam, let’s leave it. Push it back so I can get through.”

He pushed. I pulled. The bag stayed.

I thought about climbing out and torching anything that moved. But unless I killed both sentries, that wouldn’t solve my problem.

“Adam! Unpack it! Hurry—pull out whatever you can.” I dug in my feet and pushed. My shoulders burned after a few seconds, but the bag inched forward. I couldn’t tell if Adam was doing anything, if he was even still there. He could’ve run off as soon as he realized the backpack was truly stuck.

The barking settled upon me. I expected a sharp set of teeth to clamp down on my ankle at any moment. With a whoosh of noise, the bag unjammed, and I fell flat on my face.

Tasting blood, I scrambled into the tunnel just as an ice-cold hand gripped my right calf. “Gotcha,” the Tarpulin sentry said.

I cried out and sent my Element to my right foot. It burst into flames, igniting the blisters into raging infernos of pain, but the fingers released me.

“Adam!” I yelled, the hollow sound mixing with the smell of melted rubber. He didn’t answer as I clawed away from the sentries.

“Get this gate open!” the sentry bellowed. Cursing followed. Pounding feet thundered above me.

I scurried through the tunnel, my heart battering my ribs at the thought of emerging on the other side alone. It wouldn’t take long to open the gate, and I had no supplies with which to survive on in the wilderness.

Desperation and anger spurred me forward and when Adam pulled me out, the bag already repacked and on his back, I didn’t wait for instructions.

Lip bleeding, and with my right shoe missing, I ran.

“I thought you’d left me.” My breath stuck in the winter sky as white clouds. I balled one hand into a fist and held the other in front of me, pouring fire to erase the snow. Adam didn’t reprimand me, even though I was broadcasting our position with shooting flames and a cleared path. He also didn’t answer.

It didn’t take long to open the gate, and we’d barely crossed the first field when the buzz of the hovercraft sounded.

I vaulted a limp wire fence and cleared a path down into a ditch. I shot a plume of fire to the right and then the left, melting the snow for a hundred feet in each direction. My feet should’ve been screaming in pain, but I couldn’t feel them. I didn’t know which sensation was worse.

“Left,” Adam hissed, splashing down next to me.

“I’ll catch up,” I said, turning right. Sloshing through the calf-high water, I shot another fireball, clearing more of the ditch. I ducked and turned back the way I’d come.

“Good idea,” Adam whispered when I caught up to him. He motioned for me to go first, and we crept, almost on our knees, toward the snow bank still frozen in the ditch. I held my hand over it, melting it in a much subtler manner.

“Culvert ahead,” Adam breathed behind me. “Crawl in, don’t come out the other side.”

The metal cylinder ran under a snow-covered road. I scooted inside and turned to see Adam refreezing the ice over the ditch. The last of his frigid wind died as he joined me in the culvert. I hunched over to squeeze inside, pulled my knees to my chest, and massaged some heat back into my shoeless foot. The metal bit through my jeans with an unrelenting chill, and my foot stung with newly-realized pain.

Mere moments later, Patches’s high voice carried across the frozen darkness.

“Melted in both directions.” A pause and then, “Okay, but if you kill her, I’ll kill you. She’s mine.” The steel in Patches’s voice made my blood run cold.

“Wow,” Adam whispered. “He really hates you. Sentries don’t normally care how the hunted dies.”

I cringed at the word dies.

“I sense a story I haven’t heard,” Adam pressed.

“I’m sure you have some as well,” I shot back. “I’ll tell you when we’re not minutes from dying.”

“Great. I’ll never hear it then.” Adam’s smile carried in his voice. He rummaged through his backpack and pressed a knife into my hand. “I think I might be better with these, so I’ll keep two. That okay?”

“Fine by me.” I gripped the knife, repulsed just from holding it. My stomach filled with fire.

“I can’t,” I choked out.

“Can’t what?”

I dropped the knife in an ear-splitting clatter of metal on metal. An excited shout rang out, and Adam cursed.

“Come on,” he hissed as he stumbled over me inside the culvert. His boot scraped along my thigh. As if I didn’t have enough physical pain already coursing through my body.

He clambered through the culvert toward the other side. I maneuvered around and had almost gained the opening when a light shone behind me. I turned to look, getting blinded by the beam.

“Get out!” Adam yelled, pulling on my legs. I fell to the ground as Adam unleashed a gale-force wind through the tunnel. Scrambling up, I saw all three knives in Adam’s belt.

He lowered his hands, straightened, and looked at me. “We need to work on your stealth. I bought us maybe five minutes. Come on.”

Then he ran.

I caught up to him, melting the snow so we could move faster. “I’m sorry.”

He grunted and increased his pace.

“Adam—”

“Not now,” he huffed. “We’ll talk later.”

“I can’t kill someone.”

“It’s you or them.”

“No, it’s not,” I panted. “That’s just what they tell you in sentry training. It’s not real life.”

“Oh, yeah? It is now.”

And of course, the blazing Airmaster was right. My fear increased with every footstep, realizing it had been “me or them” for a long time. The anger bloomed inside, ever-present, never-abandoning. I pounded the rage into my footsteps despite my injuries, hoping to drive out the fury so I could allow something else—something better—into my life.

I’d never found that path in Crylon. I’d started running to break the mold I’d been folded into. My new teacher, Educator Ostrund, wouldn’t allow questions. He looked down his nose at me, sneering. “Supremist Pederson has written me concerning your education.”

I didn’t answer. He stayed his hand when I kept quiet.

“He is most worried about the future of Crylon.”

Still, I held my tongue, tucking that vocal part of myself into a tight spot in my chest. The part that refused to mold to reality.

“Shall I assure him you are on target to complete your education with honors?”

What he really meant: Are you going to accept your position in society?

I swallowed hard, quieting the thoughts of Educator Graham and how she’d never asked me to do that. She’d never wanted me to be anyone but myself.

Educator Ostrund rapped my knuckles with his wicked stick. “Well?”

Tears stung my eyes. I balled my fists, now protected in my lap, before nodding. “If I’m not chosen for Council, yes absolutely.”

“Excellent,” Educator Ostrund said, making another note on his infernal clipboard.

That afternoon, with the leafy trees on fire with reds and oranges, I ran. The next day, Jarvis had joined me. He didn’t come every day; he didn’t have time because of his Elemental studies.

Which was just fine, because a week later, I had fire pouring from my fingertips—and Jarvis didn’t need to know about that. I’d wanted to tell him. Blazes, how I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I’d kept secrets from him, just as he did from me. Would there never be room for anything besides pain, betrayal, and loneliness? Nothing but the emptiness that existed without Cat and Isaiah? Nothing besides the hole in my heart Jarvis had produced? Or the gulf that opened when Patches received his mark and became my enemy? Or the fissure created when Educator Graham was murdered?

I didn’t know. I didn’t trust Adam, but at the moment I had no other options. Running next to me, he pointed to the right. A stream bubbled nearby, the banks pocked with frozen footprints. We ducked into a bank of trees when the hovercraft buzzed behind us.

“Stay next to me. Don’t talk—Gabe.” He caught my eye before moving into the trees, where the canopy had blocked the snow from reaching the ground. Thankful we wouldn’t be leaving behind footprints, I followed Adam as he muttered to himself, went a few feet, pivoted to the right and paced off a few more steps. This pattern continued until I became hopelessly lost.

“Ah, here.” Adam reached up and clasped his hand around nothing. As he lowered his fist, two cloaks materialized out of the pine needles. Mottled brown and green and made from some shimmery fabric, they looked warm and inviting. He handed me one and put on the other. “Hold still.”

“Where did you get these?” I asked. The folds of the cloak hung in large ribbons, even over the already-too-big coat. I pulled the hood over my head, drowning my face in cloth. I smoothed down the front and looked up, still waiting for Adam’s answer.

He was gone.

I turned in a circle, the long cloak pooling on the ground. Everything looked exactly the same.

Trees.

Leaves.

Rocks.

I took a few hesitant steps in one direction, but it didn’t look familiar.

Nothing looked familiar.

My breath came too fast, especially when the buzz of the hovercraft pressed in around me. I inched closer to a nearby tree, pulling the cloak tighter. I cursed Adam and his stupid command to hold still. My flight had gotten considerably more dangerous since meeting him. And now he’d disappeared again, leaving me alone in the forest with his sentry brother. If I ever saw him again, I’d have a few choice words for him.

Somewhere on my right, the hovercraft stopped. Minutes passed, my heart thumping as loud as a drum. A slight scuffling to my left ignited a wisp of fear in my chest. I wanted to send the forest up in flames, but Adam had said, “Hold still.” I didn’t move, feeling as trapped as I had in Crylon.

I remembered a time when I realized Jarvis had been folded into a mold too. We’d gone walking just before the end-of-year festivities, and he hadn’t held my hand the way he sometimes did.

“Gabby, I wish you a prosperous new year,” he’d said. So formal.

I couldn’t say it back. I’d said everything already. “Jarvis, you—”

He put one finger to my lips and held it there for too long. “I’ll be choosing my Council next month.”

“You’ll make a great Councilman,” I whispered.

What I meant: I’d love to serve as your Unmanifested.

Jarvis understood. He smiled. “I won’t be leaving until April for diplomacy training in Tarpulin. And it will be years before I get a city.”

I doubted it, despite the mandated ten-year apprenticeship that all new Councils served under existing Councils. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

He’d hugged me. Then he’d turned and walked slowly toward the west barracks, his head down.

After nightfall, as I had done many times since Manifesting, I turned my back on the city of Crylon, on the Elemental school, and ran. My feet pounded the forest floor, breaking free from the oppressive mold I’d been caged in all day. When those boundaries broke, I had nothing left for protection. Holes widened inside as reality spilled out. So much had been taken.

I ran longer than I had before. Hours, maybe, simply trying to leave the resentment behind. When I stopped, I leaned against a weathered pine tree, attempting to calm my breath.

But it only became more labored. I felt the agony rise. Though I tried to force it back down, back into the tiny square that had become my heart, it would not go.

And I cracked. Fissures erupted in my carefully crafted armor, and I cried until I had nothing left inside.

And then, like an old friend, the anger came slithering back. It sealed the cracks and morphed into resentment stronger than I’d experienced before. That feeling filled the empty holes and overflowed, overflowed until I couldn’t cry anymore.

I could only hate this new person I’d become—someone who didn’t trust. Didn’t believe. Didn’t let anyone in.

Standing in the forest under that cloak, I used the familiar anger to keep the tears at bay. I didn’t believe Adam would stick with me, a female Firemaker. His disappearance only added fuel to those distrustful thoughts.

A cough sounded like a gunshot in the silence, drawing me out of my own mind. I flinched, though I tried not to. Black boots thudded on the ground, and Felix sauntered right in front of me. I froze, my hands clenched, my body ready for a blade to bury itself into my heart.

Felix looked left, then right. He wiped a hand over his eyes, which opened bleary and blood-shot.

Then he looked right at me.

He glanced away after only a moment, as if he hadn’t seen me. I breathed in…then out, expecting death any second.

In…and out. Again, and then again. See, breathing proved I was still alive.

Felix crouched and touched the dirt, smelled it, and rubbed his fingers together. Apparently satisfied, he leaned against a tree trunk, maybe fifteen feet from me.

My muscles jumped, my skin itched, but I stood stone-still, my eyes never leaving Felix.

He looked a lot like Adam—blue eyes with sandy hair. Felix wore his super-short, like mine was now. His face didn’t hold the innocence Adam’s did, and Felix’s jaw was more defined. His nose didn’t look aligned, like maybe it’d been broken and not quite healed properly.

He coughed again, but it did little to decrease his menacing demeanor. The black uniform didn’t help either.

The undergrowth rustled as Patches approached Felix. “Nothing. The Outcasts haven’t seen anyone in days. Certainly not anyone in the past half hour.” He sank next to Felix, and I felt his weariness. He looked like my old friend when he wasn’t hunting me.

“Did you—?”

“I did all you would have done. I am a sentry too.” Patches’s voice sounded hard, laced with warning.

“Well, they can’t simply disappear.”

I swallowed the gasp as it tried to escape. The cloaks….

I had disappeared.

Which meant Adam stood right here somewhere. Surprise mingled with relief that he hadn’t abandoned me. My legs felt spongy, my hands trembled, and hot tears sprang to my eyes.

“…Supremist Pederson can’t do that.” Patches’s words snapped me out of my near-blubbering.

“You don’t know what Alex can do,” Felix growled. They lapsed into a silence only broken by Felix’s intermittent coughing.

My chest could barely rise and fall. How long would they remain here?

“Will we find them?” Patches asked, his face reminding me of the newly-marked sentry I’d known in Crylon.

“As soon as her prints are uploaded into the system, which should be by this afternoon. Don’t worry, we won’t fail. Are you sure Gabriella set the fire?”

I tensed and pushed back the rising flames. With my dying breath, I would deny setting that fire.

“Of course she didn’t.” Patches glanced at Felix. “You did.”

Felix held his gaze without emotion. “No, I didn’t.”

Patches frowned. “Well, if you didn’t…and Gabby—”

“Gabriella. She’s not your friend anymore. Don’t get attached.”

“I’m not attached. If you didn’t and Gabriella didn’t…who did?”

Both sentries looked up into the brightening sky, for once their faces showing some emotion. Patches broadcasted terror, while Felix looked thoughtful. Just as I was starting to feel bad for them, Felix stood up.

“Let’s go. If they didn’t join the Outcasts, Adam’ll head south. They can get lost in a city the size of Gregorio, and there are a half dozen Unmanifested villages between here and there. Alex desires that freak of a fire girl, and the Elemental Council in Gregorio is encouraging open rebellion.” He brushed his hands on his pants and walked within five feet of where I stood.

Patches followed and a minute later, the hovercraft whirred to life. Even after the sound faded into silence, I remained still.

“Gabby?” Barely a whisper, Adam’s voice came from my left.

He lowered his hood, his head appearing out of nothing as his mysterious cloak concealed the rest of his body. “Gabby?” He glanced from left to right, concern etched in the lines in his forehead.

“You could have warned me,” I said, lowering my own hood.

His face broke into a grin. “I told you to hold still.”

I fingered the material of my cloak. “What is this stuff?” It felt silky, yet thick like canvas. Light over my shoulders, but warm and comforting.

He moved toward me. I still couldn’t see his body, but a disturbance in the landscape—like a ripple on water—indicated his movement.

“Outcast weaving. I think it’s wool.”

He thought wrong. Wool felt heavy and scratchy—the exact opposite of the cloak. But I didn’t correct him.

“Chief Tavar leaves them out for those who know how to find them,” he said, adjusting his cloak and moving too close for me to be comfortable.

“So you’ve been here before.” I wasn’t asking. I side-stepped away from him. The memory of him pinning my arms to my sides felt too fresh. And he’d abandoned me three times now—at least I thought he had.

“You’ll love the Outcasts.”

“Who are the Outcasts?”

He smiled again. “Only my favorite people. Society has deemed them insane, but they’re just Spirit-speakers.”

I laughed at Adam, truly surprised. “Spirit-speakers? You’re joking, right?”

He wasn’t. He reached out, his hand appearing as it emerged from the sleeve. “Pull your hood back on and hold my hand. You can see for yourself.”

I thought he might be the one who was insane. First, if he believed Spirit-speakers really existed. Second, if he thought I would hold his hand just because he told me to…. I glared at him.

“It doesn’t mean anything. Just so we don’t lose each other.” His hand hovered in the air, and I looked at it, then back to him.

“O-kay.”

He laughed as he covered his head again. I pulled on my hood and took his hand. He adjusted the sleeves so they covered our hands, and it was freaky to watch my own flesh disappear. He tugged in the direction he wanted to go.

I followed, stepping carefully over fallen logs, patches of muddy snow, and piles of rotting leaves.

“I’ve never met a girl as quiet as you,” Adam whispered. “Most of them never shut up.” I couldn’t tell if he thought my silence was a good thing or not. I kept my mouth shut and dug my fingernails through his glove and into the back of his hand.

“Ow! I meant it as a compliment. Jeesh.” He stopped walking, and I felt the weight of his eyes. I stared at the spot where I thought he might be. I still didn’t speak.

He squeezed my hand and pulled me forward again. I thought I heard him apologize, but I wasn’t sure.

See, I already knew I was different. Regular Elemental girls Manifested as Watermaidens—like Cat. And she was so opposite of me. My voice scratched on the way out, I’d never owned a dress, and curves avoided my body at all costs.

She spent time outside in the fresh air. She was pampered when she wasn’t infusing bath water with jasmine or strolling through the fields imparting life-giving water to crops. And yet I loved her.

Wrapped up in my thoughts about my lost friendship, I didn’t realize Adam had stopped until he dropped my hand.

I looked up, inhaled the smoke, and tried to locate the fire. I couldn’t—and that scared me.

“What do you see?” His question sounded like a dare.

I wished I could see something that would erase the mocking from his voice. But I only saw the same trees and leaves and rocks—and the smoke.

Felix had said Firemakers could control smoke. My heart sped up. Could there be another Firemaker here?

Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes. The smoke came from a hard wood, maybe alder. I didn’t know how I knew that, but it was true.

Adam shifted next to me, his hand finding mine again and squeezing. “Um, Gabe?”

“Hmm?” I didn’t open my eyes because the smoke painted my senses with rich lather. My head swam with the sweet scent.

The pressure on my hand increased until I thought he’d squeeze it off. I finally opened my eyes. Adam had lowered his hood, his quiet amusement gone.

“What?” I asked.

He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head toward something in front of him. A wall of smoke hovered in front of me, obscuring the landscape behind it. Pearly and gray, it wafted into the treetops, held back by an invisible barrier.

“What did you do?” Adam hissed.
I moved forward and stretched out my hand. I could almost feel the energy keeping the smoke from me. I ached to feel it brush my skin, to breathe it into my lungs.

“Don’t,” Adam whispered, coming up beside me. “We haven’t been invited yet.”

I swept my hand across my body, and the smoke screen slid to the right.

Three men stood there, their skin dark. Their golden eyes were rimmed in a darker brown that matched their hair. They looked identical, down to their stance with feet shoulder-width apart and arms folded. They wore breeches, but no shoes or shirts. Living outside obviously required effort, because these guys had more muscles in their arms than I possessed in my whole body.

I looked away, embarrassed by their nakedness. Adam was now kneeling, his head bowed. I quickly copied him, though I wasn’t sure why.

“Chief Tavar. We come seeking refuge among the Outcasts.” Adam spoke in a deeper voice. One with more authority, more years behind it.

“Mr. Gillman, you may enter,” one of the men said, his voice grating as though he didn’t use it much. “Who is he?”

I didn’t look up, thinking it best not to offend the Chief.

“My Firemaker, Gabe Kilpatrick. I only go where he goes. The sentry who visited earlier is searching for him. Gabe is accused of a crime he didn’t commit. We need safety, beds, food. We have nothing to offer in return.”

A long pause followed, during which I studied the forest floor to avoid eye contact.

“The same arrangement between us exists,” the Chief said. “If your Firemaker agrees to the terms, he may also enter.”

Adam stood, and I joined him. I wanted to cower behind him, or hold his hand, but I thought both of those options would be unfitting for a guy. Not to mention a Firemaker. So I stood next to him, exchanging a nervous glance before looking back at the Chief.

“We bring no ill feelings into the settlement,” the Chief said. “We are loyal to each other. I help you with what I can; you provide whatever you can for us. We show respect and kindness while we co-exist on this earth together.” His voice lulled me into a safe place, and I blinked to maintain my attention.

“Can you agree to do these things?” the Chief asked.

“Yes,” I managed to force through my lips.

“Then you Elementals may enter.”

We moved through the barrier, and a tingle slithered over my body. Maybe Adam was right about these people being Spirit-speakers, but I vowed never to admit it out loud. See, Spirit-speakers were supposed to be a magical race, loving the earth and her resources, and using their religious beliefs to separate themselves from regular society. They’d become outcasts, deemed insane and dangerous by the Supremist, and I’d been warned against associating with them.

“You found the cloaks,” the Chief said, his voice more playful. I glanced at him, trying to make the image of him match up with what I’d been told about Spirit-speakers. His serious expression didn’t look particularly crazy or dangerous.

“Yes, my memory served me well. As did the cloaks. We barely had them on before the sentries arrived.” Adam spoke to the Chief like they were old friends.

I reminded myself that I barely knew Adam, that I couldn’t trust him, that he’d never given me a straight answer, that sharing sleeping quarters with him would be wrong. Besides, I didn’t want him so close to me. The guy didn’t seem to understand personal boundaries.

“…right, Gabe?”

I looked up at my new name. Somehow Chief Tavar had maneuvered between me and Adam. He watched me without blinking. He looked even more terrifying close up. I’d never seen skin so dark or hair so long—at least not on a man.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you’re going to need an Unmanifested on your Council. Or do you already have someone in mind?”

I forced myself to look at the Chief’s eyes, swallowing my fear. “Um, no, I don’t have anyone in mind. See, Adam and me…. Well, I mean, we’re not really a Council, we’re just—”

“Yes, we are,” Adam interrupted. “We just got separated from the others in Gregorio.”

I stared at him in disbelief. His words sounded so natural, so easy. He didn’t give away the lie on his face either. My doubts about him resurfaced. If he could look and sound so convincing while lying, how would I know when he was telling me the truth?

Chief Tavar looked at Adam and then to me. I forced a laugh that sounded, well, forced. “Yeah, separated. We do need an Unmanifested, though.”

The Chief smiled. “I might have someone for you. A boy—almost a man—fifteen years of age. He has not Manifested any gifts.”

“Gifts?” I asked.

“Of the spirit,” the Chief replied. “He’s been talking of leaving the settlement. This might be a perfect arrangement.”

I glanced at Adam again, but he didn’t look at me. See, I doubted a “perfect arrangement” existed.

I knew I was right when we entered the village amidst a chorus of silence.

Men, women, and children with skin just as dark as the Chief’s cowered in tent flaps. They watched me pass with wide, golden eyes. Whispers reached my ears, but I couldn’t understand the language.

“Here he is. Mr. Kilpatrick—my son, Hanai ‘Silent Soul’ Tavar. He is Unmanifested, and seeking a place on your Council.”

A guy stood in the doorway of the only permanent structure—a well-built log cabin. More the color of molasses than honey, his eyes searched me from head to toe.

I likewise sized him up. Already taller than me, he was also twice as wide. He wore a cream-colored shirt with leather breeches. His long, dark hair had been pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He didn’t have shoes, but he stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, like guys do. I shifted my feet, which had been touching.

Hanai dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Father. My Firemaker.”

I deliberately didn’t look at Adam so I wouldn’t appear like I knew nothing.

“Nice to see you, Hanai,” Adam said, saving me from what would’ve been an embarrassing exchange.

“Adam,” Hanai said, rising with a grin. He clapped Adam on the back in a one-armed embrace. “You weren’t lying. I guess I was wrong.” He kept his gaze on me.

I smiled and stepped forward too. “Hey, man.” It sounded so, so fake. “I’m Gabe.”

Hanai’s smile remained in place, extending into his eyes. “You took our smoke. That was so Manifested. My dad nearly choked.”

I found myself at a loss for words, so I kept the smile cemented in place and shrugged with only my right shoulder. I’d seen Jarvis do that—very masculine.

“So…now what? Baths? You two stink,” Hanai said.

My heart thumped in an uneven pattern as I caught Adam’s eye. He shook his head just as Hanai looked at him. Then his face broke into an instant grin. “Yeah, sure, baths. But let’s have Gabe go first. Maybe he can heat that iceberg you call a pool.” He slapped Hanai on the shoulder.

“Good idea. I haven’t had a warm bath in six months.” Hanai ducked back into the cabin, leaving me alone with Adam.

“Heat the pool? Can I do that?” I asked without moving my lips.

“’Course, man. Didn’t you see what you did with that smoke? You could probably turn their pool into a hot spring.”

“What? What did I—?”

“Here’s some soap. A towel.” Hanai shoved some stuff into my hands. “Follow me, I’ll show you where the pool is.”

I held Adam’s gaze for a moment before following him into the trees. Thankfully, Hanai led me away from the main village, away from the fire, away from everything. With each step, my anxiety grew. Hanai didn’t seem stupid, and he’d notice certain things at the pool that would blow my cover.

After ten minutes, Hanai stopped. He pointed down a faint trail. “Down there, a couple hundred feet. You can wash the clothes you’re wearing and change into your dry ones.” He looked at me, then Adam. “Do you have dry clothes?”

“Adam has some,” I said. “I’ve got some tops—um, shirts—but no jeans.”

“I can find you something,” Hanai said. “You look about the size—”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. “They’re not that dirty.” When I looked at my pants, I cringed. Not only were they crusted with mud, bloodstains trailed down one leg.

“You’ll need shoes too,” Hanai said. “I can’t wait to hear the story of how you lost that one.” He grinned at my bare right foot, and then at me. “C’mon, Adam. We’ll be back in a couple of minutes, Gabe.” He walked off, Adam right behind him.

I watched them go, my mind racing. Twenty minutes. Ten there, ten back. I had no clean pants. Panic welled up, almost covering my fire.

A breeze washed over my face. “Just go, I’ll help you,” it whispered, sounding very much like Adam.

I took a deep breath and turned toward the trail. Steps had been cut into the slope, reinforced with branches and rocks. At the foot of the staircase lay a pool of clear water. Brown and white stones littered the bottom, and a slight ripple disturbed the surface.

I plunged both hands into the pool, meeting liquid ice. My breath came in ragged gasps as I f-f-forced fire into the water.

A mist arose as the hot water steamed in the frigid March air. Perfect cover. I undressed quickly, tossing my clothes into the pool. The hot water unknotted my muscles and screamed through my injured feet. After a moment, they settled into the heat as the steam cleared my head. I only allowed myself a short minute of relief. Then I scrubbed my skin and clothes with soap. It smelled faintly of pine needles and ashes—a soft, soothing scent. I wrung out my clothes, heated some rocks and laid my clothes on them to dry. Just as I was rinsing my hair, Adam’s loud voice drifted down the staircase.

“…take them down. Gabe sort of has a temper…don’t want to interrupt. You stay here.”

A small smile curved my mouth. His last three words sounded like a command. My smile vanished as I remembered how clear the water was. And the fog had dissipated into the chilly air.

“Wait!” I cried out. The scuffling of Adam’s steps stopped.

“Gabe?” Hanai called.

I groaned inwardly. “I’m fine,” I called back. “Just need another a minute. Adam,” I added as an afterthought.

I got out of the pool and wrapped the towel around myself. “Okay,” I whispered, and Adam immediately started down the steps again. He appeared only a few seconds later. He kept his eyes on mine, holding the clean pair of pants in front of him like a shield. It might have been funny if I wasn’t naked beneath the thin towel.

He set them down on a rock a few feet from me, along with a clean T-shirt, a pair of socks and shoes, and the magical cloak. His gaze flickered to where my clothes lay drying and I almost fell backward into the pool. My underclothes…were clearly feminine.

“Is it hot?” he asked, meeting my eyes again.

“Hot enough,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to do anything. You know that, right?”

He walked over to me and cupped my face in his palm. “You’re wrong. Just feel, don’t think.” He trailed his cool fingers down my neck and over my shoulder. Then he turned and bounded up the steps.

I couldn’t breathe. His touch burned a path as permanent as if he’d branded me—or worse, tattooed himself into my skin.

I shook away the confusion that came with my mixed-up feelings. Turning back to the pool, I saw another ripple cross the surface.

I jumped back in and swam to the far side, where the water moved the most. I sucked in a breath and dove under. Feeling with my hands, I located the water bubbling into the pool. Temperature: Ice cold.

Without thinking, I pulled on my Element and sent a super-heated ball of flames into the bubbly opening.

I kicked to the surface, gulped in another breath, and dove again. This time when I pressed my fingers to the opening, the water trickling into the pool felt blazing hot.

I laughed underwater, large air bubbles escaping my mouth. I broke the surface, nearly choking as I inhaled a lungful of half air, half water.

Sputtering and coughing, I swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out. Wrapped tightly in the towel, I held my burning hands over my underclothes to finish drying them.

Bonus: I didn’t have to pull on icy underwear.

Hanai’s breeches were too big, but I cinched them tight, admiring the soft leather. Just as I pulled the cloak over my clothes, Hanai called, “Can we come down now?”

“Yeah,” I called back. I arranged several stones into a circle and lit a fire.

Hanai crouched next to me. “What took you so long? Even girls are faster than you.”

I worked hard to breathe in and out. “I made your pool a hot spring,” I said. “And if you had a fire in the middle of these rocks, your clothes would dry faster. And they’ll be warm when you put them on. I thought that might be nice.”

Hanai opened his mouth, but Adam cut him off. “Hey, Gabe. Why don’t you go get Chief Tavar? He can bewitch the flames so they’ll never go out. We should be done by the time you get back.”

I stood up, Hanai copying my every move.

“That’s what I was going to suggest,” he said. “We’re already on the same mental wavelength. This is so Manifested.” He grinned at Adam and then me.

Adam smiled. “Do you remember the way, Gabe? Don’t worry if you get lost, just follow the smoke. Take your time.”

Again, his last three words came out as a command. I didn’t care. Hanai peeled off his shirt and started fumbling with the buttons on his pants.

Blazing infernos! I bolted for the stairs without looking back, even when Adam laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

By the time I made it back to the bathing pool with the Chief, Hanai—fully dressed, thankfully—lay stretched out beside the remains of the fire, his long black hair steaming as it dried. The Chief joined him and poked at the glowing embers, stroking them back into flames.

“They’re talking about you.” Adam spoke in a soft voice as he stepped next to me.

I didn’t look at him, but kept my eyes on the steaming water. “What’re they saying?”

“They’re happy you’re here…. Hanai is gushing about the hot spring…. Chief Tavar wants us to stay awhile.”

I grunted. “Should we? Stay awhile?”

“I think so,” Adam whispered. “They won’t hurt us, we can regain our strength, go to Gregorio in a month or so. They’ll even teach us some magic.”

“Don’t you already know magic? I mean, how can you hear them?”

“The air tells me everything.”

I shifted, making rustling noises in the forest debris.

“Like right now you’re scared. Why?”

Scared wasn’t exactly right. More like nervous. I cleared my throat. “Can they teach me how to read?”

“You can’t read?”

“Hot blazes. Scream it, why don’t you? No, I can’t read, all right?”

Adam took a step back, his eyes searching mine. I put on my best I-dare-you-to-say-another-word face.

“Sorry, sorry. I can teach you to read. That’s definitely something you need to know. All Firemakers—”

“Firemaker?” the Chief asked. “Would you like to participate in the bewitching ceremony?”

“Sure,” I said at the same time I turned around. Relieved I didn’t have to endure Adam’s lecture about what all Firemakers should know how to do, I hurried over to the Chief.

Adam came up beside me, and the four of us formed a circle around the fire.

The wind picked up, snaking its way down the collar of my cloak. Adam raised both hands and shoved them forward, palms out. The wind whistled before disappearing into the trees.

“Impressive, Mr. Gillman,” the Chief said. “Almost as impressive as Mr. Kilpatrick’s hot spring.” His gaze landed on me, and I squirmed under the weight of it. “But let me show you what Spirit-speakers can do.”

He started chanting, a low sound that originated in his throat and didn’t go much further. I couldn’t understand his language, but the song had a familiar rhythm. As the minutes passed, my heart beat in time with the melody.

“One,” the Chief intoned without breaking the continuity of the chant.

I locked eyes with Adam, almost sensing his pulse within my own chest. It fluttered too fast—frantic almost. I smiled, though not all the way. His face relaxed, the crinkles around his eyes creasing as he smiled back. His pulse slowed, matching mine.

“Two,” the Chief said, his eyes closed now. The chant picked up in tempo; my heart matched it. The curling smoke soothed me, and I wanted to close my eyes and get lost in the woodsy scent of it.

Forcing myself to keep my eyes open, I glanced at Hanai. He grinned at me like a kid who’d just been chosen for a Council. His pulse thrummed too slowly, and I frowned. He did too, his heartbeat quickening.

“Three,” the Chief said, the underlying rhythm unbroken. He thrust his hand into the fire, still chanting in the back of his throat.

My heart stopped completely at the sight of his fist in the flames. He seemed to be stroking them, actually touching them. As he did, they turned colors, first burning green, then purple, then blue.

I wanted to see Adam’s and Hanai’s reactions, judge them against my own, but I couldn’t look away from the multicolored flames. At last, they blazed orange, and the Chief withdrew his hand, the chant dying in his chest.

“Eternal flame,” he pronounced. His flesh remained untouched, not a blister or even so much as a smudge of soot on it. “The Firemaker’s flame is truly remarkable. I’ve never had the privilege of enchanting such interesting flames. Delightful.”

Well, that didn’t even begin to describe what had just happened. I gazed at the ordinary-looking fire. Minus the smoke. So I guess it wasn’t so ordinary.

The Chief rose in a fluid movement. “Interesting thing, your fire. Those flames had a lot to say.”

I straightened too, wiping my hands on the cloak. “You can talk to fire?”

“Spirit-speakers can talk to anything,” he replied. “Your fire was…lovely to converse with.”

The heat crept into my cheeks, and I turned away. “Yeah, lovely,” I managed to mumble. I hoped I wouldn’t hurl right there. I couldn’t believe my own Element—my own flames—had ratted me out.

I walked away just as Hanai asked, “Lovely? What does that mean?”

It means your dad knows I’m a girl! I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip and climbed the stairs. Lovely mocked me inside my own head, even when Adam caught up to me. He asked if I was okay, and I made an excuse about being tired.

Hanai showed me to his cot inside the one-room cabin and said I could rest as long as I wanted. “I’ll make you something to eat, all right? Do you want me to wake you up when it’s ready?”

“Sure. Thanks, Hanai.”

He grinned. “I’m so glad you’re here, Gabe.”

I couldn’t smile back, but Hanai left without noticing. I glanced around the small cabin, noting a curtain that divided it in half. On the other side stood another cot, presumably for the Chief. I wondered if he would sleep somewhere else, or if we’d be sharing. I almost wanted him nearby, but at the same time, I needed to be alone.

I lay down on Hanai’s cot, hot tears gathering behind my eyes. Crying was out of the question. If either Adam or Hanai sees me….

I rolled over and sniffed, swiping at an escaping tear. The cabin door opened, and I said, “Leave me alone.”

“I heard…I mean, are you okay?” The tenderness in Adam’s voice pulled at my heart.

“I’m fine.”

He crossed the cabin and touched my shoulder. “Liar.”

“Leave me alone, okay? I just need some time.”

“Time for what?” His breath billowed over my neck, causing something unfamiliar to stir inside.

To figure out what to do next. What to say to the Chief. How to act like a blazing guy. How I feel about you.

My thoughts—especially the ones about Adam—surprised me.

“Just stuff,” I said, glad my voice didn’t sound too nasally.

“We can trust Hanai with your secret,” he whispered.

I rolled to look at him. “Can we?”

“He’s going to be your Unmanifested. You’ll have to tell him sooner or later. I vote for sooner.”

My breath seemed too heavy for my lungs. “I know. Tomorrow, okay? I have to…find the right words.”

A grin graced his features and softened his jaw. “Tomorrow.” Then his lips touched my temple. A hot, foreign shiver ran down my spine. A moment later, the cabin door banged closed, drowning out my racing pulse.

As I lay there, I wondered if the Chief would tell his son before I could, wondered how much more complicated my life could get.

I woke in the dark, my stomach cramping. I sat up to find someone had covered me with a blanket.

My cloak, shoes, and socks: Removed.

My feet: Bound and dressed in white cloth.

Gasping for breath, I stumbled to the door, causing quite a racket as I went. The night air nipped my lungs as I sucked at it. I sank to my knees, trying to figure out why I felt so panicked—so trapped.

I’d felt like this at school too. Unable to find somewhere to fit. Powerless, with secrets and lies hidden deep inside. Large hands squirmed inside my chest, finding my heart and squeezing, squeezing the life out.

I ran my hands over my scalp and took deep, calming breaths. My feet didn’t hurt, and when I removed the dressings I found them completely healed.

“Gabe?” Hanai crouched next to me. “My father worked his healing magic on your injuries.”

I nodded, unsure I could speak without crying.

“You hungry?” he asked.

My stomach twisted with hunger, and I focused on it to clear my emotions. “Yeah, okay. Where’s Adam?” I asked as I followed Hanai over to the fire.

“In the cabin. He insisted I didn’t wake you up. He went to bed as soon as he ate.”

“What time is it?”

Hanai looked to the sky before answering. “Almost four. People will be up soon. You slept forever, man.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, adopting Adam’s policy of vague answers as I sat next to Hanai. The fire sparked, and I leaned forward, inhaling the smoke. My nerves settled.

Hanai handed me a metal bowl. “Rabbit stew,” he said. “You’ll like it.”

I’d like rubbery beans at this point. The stew was rich and hot, nothing like the canned garbage Adam had in the backpack, and certainly nothing like I’d ever been privileged to eat at school. I ate it all in a matter of minutes. Hanai refilled my bowl without asking, also dishing himself seconds.

He handed me a round piece of flatbread, and I used it to soak up the last of the stew. When I was finished, he took my dishes and set them next to his. “Where’re you from?”

“Crylon.” I could only maintain so many lies.

“How’d you meet Adam then?” His question seemed innocent, but it brought up so much I didn’t want to explain.

I swallowed the last of my bread. “Um, in Forrester.”

Hanai looked into the fire, the orange glow illuminating half of his face. His eyes reflected trust. Innocence. “But that sentry said they were looking for a girl.”

I held one hand over the fire, inviting the flames to jump into my palm. “They are.” The fire remained stubbornly in the pit. I gazed at it, imploring it to come. Finally, it leaped and landed in my hand, licking my fingers.

“But my dad said they’re looking for you, that we need to protect you.” He watched me, firelight chasing the shadows from his face.

I swallowed hard. His dad had told him about me. “I don’t know who the sentries are looking for, but it’s not me.”

He simply looked at me. Then he watched the flames in my palm. He smiled, all traces of doubt gone. But he wasn’t stupid, and it was only a matter of time before he’d learn my secret.

I felt like he knew already. He glanced at me several times, and I was glad for the bulky sweatshirt. Malnourished and overworked, I’d never had much in the way of a chest. I searched for the words that said I’m a girl but couldn’t find any that didn’t sound completely ridiculous inside my head.

I turned my hand, and the fire scampered around to stay with me. The silence pressed down, filled with my unspoken confession. Why couldn’t I speak?

I took a deep breath and looked toward Hanai. He was gone. I glanced around, wondering how he could move so stealthily.

The cabin door banged, and Adam stood there wearing a blue T-shirt and a dark pair of jeans. He rubbed his eyes and tromped through the leaves to sit next to me.

“Morning,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine.” I didn’t look at him.

Adam acted like nothing had happened. No kiss, no undressing while I slept.

“So today I thought we’d practice with the knives.”

“Are we really staying?” I shook the flames from my fingers and into the pit, where they hissed and crackled.

“We thought staying here for a while might be better. Give the sentries a chance to focus on something else.”

“We?”

“Me and Hanai.”

I swallowed back the sour feelings. Of course Adam would know how long the sentries would keep looking. He’d been one.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Adam said. “You’re still the lead…man. Hanai and I were just talking last night after you crashed.”

I nodded, still pretending to admire the gnarled tree trunks a few feet away.

“He needs to learn how to use a knife too. It’s not a big deal.”

“No big deal,” I snapped, turning to meet his gaze.

He didn’t even blink. “All right, then. Let’s eat and get started.”

“We already ate,” Hanai said, appearing out of nowhere and sitting next to me.

Adam flinched, and I was glad I wasn’t the only one.

“Tornadoes, give me a warning, Hanai.”

“Totally, man,” I said, trying to sound masculine. I knew I’d failed when Adam turned his laugh into a fake cough.

“Sorry guys.” Hanai smiled sheepishly. “I forget you’re not Spirit-speakers.”

“Can they all move like you?” I asked.

“Most of them, yeah.”

“Can you hear each other?” I hoped this wasn’t something I should know about Spirit-speakers. I hadn’t been taught much, beyond being told to stay away from them. I was starting to realize that the Supremist didn’t want the competition. See, Spirit-speakers had healing powers, could talk to anything, could move silently, and who knew what else. The complete list of their magical talents could potentially outweigh being able to throw fire.

“We can feel each other. You know, the soul of a person.”

My pulse quickened. “Can you feel us?”

He dished Adam some stew. “Yeah.”

“But I thought you were Unmanifested.”

“I am.” Hanai stirred the coals with a stick. “But I still have Spirit-speaker blood. Gifts, you Elementals call them.”

“But your dad said you didn’t have any gifts.”

I looked at Adam, who was no help at all. He shoveled another spoonful of stew into his mouth and shrugged, despite the fact that Hanai had just admitted to being able to feel our souls. Did that mean he could tell if someone was lying? Could he read minds too?

Tension settled in Hanai’s shoulders. “No useful gifts.”

“Sorry, Hanai. I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t matter.” He patted my knee. I jerked at the contact. He jumped to his feet. “Sorry. I—I don’t know why I—” He cut off, a frown creasing his eyebrows.

Adam elbowed me and inclined his head toward Hanai. What he meant: Tell him now.

I shook my head. The words still weren’t in the right order.

“Sit, Hanai. Gabe doesn’t bite. Usually.”

I glared at Adam while Hanai chuckled. Like he would know if I was a biter or not. I’d known him for a day and a half.

I wondered if the souls of men and women were different. Surely not, otherwise Hanai would already know I was a girl. I got up and headed for the cabin, hoping to find a way to tell Hanai and a way to reason through the disquiet growing in my gut.

“Relax,” Adam whispered as he joined me.

I didn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”

The door banged closed, and Adam locked it, sealing us in the cabin together. “You’re too tense. If I can feel it, you can bet Hanai can. Just tell him.”

“I’m working on it. You don’t understand. This is a major secret.”

Adam folded his arms. “I don’t understand?” He stripped off his T-shirt and turned his back. “What kind of secret is this?”

I gaped at the tattoo cascading over his back and swallowed hard. “That’s a pretty big secret too.”

“What does it look like today?”

The circular lines of his tattoo had straightened slightly. The ones near the orange, electronic eye were still wound tight, but the outer edges had expanded. The black lines covered almost half of his back now.

“Well?”

“The eye is dim.” I stepped closer. “The lines shift from circular in the center to more boxy ones along the edge.” Without thinking, I reached toward the thicker lines running over his shoulder blade.

He lurched forward. “Don’t touch me.” He pulled on his T-shirt in a swift movement. I studied the floor, trying to understand what I’d done wrong.

“You know what the tattoo means?” His voice foamed with danger.

“It means you’re an active sentry.”

His teeth flashed white in a brief smile. “Exactly. So if you touch me….”

“They’ll know where we are,” I whispered.

Adam was only inches away. “So don’t touch me.”

“But you’ve touched me….” I trailed off, thinking of his warm lips on my forehead, his hand in mine, the way he’d brushed his fingers across my bare shoulder at the bathing pool.

“Yeah, but if I initiate the contact, I can choose to transmit the location or not. I haven’t reported in for months and months, yet I’m still active. You know I’m electronically connected to the tattoo?”

I nodded, unable to look away from his penetrating gaze. Noticeable redness hugged the area around his eyes, almost like a mask.

“My first alert in eight months is that your prints are now in the system, and that I should bring you to Tarpulin should I happen to find you.”

I stepped backward and sat on Hanai’s cot while Adam pulled on his green jacket. “When did the alert come in?”

“Middle of the night.” He tucked all three knives into his belt loops. “You keep my secret, I’ll keep yours. Until we’re ready to tell.”

“Already done,” I said.

He stepped in front of me, took my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Slowly, deliberately, he cupped my face in his palm. He closed his eyes and sighed. His body shook from shoulder to foot and back again. Adam moaned, and his face twisted in pain.

“Adam?”

“Shh.” Several moments later, he opened his eyes, and they shone with something I couldn’t identify. “I can do this. They’ll never find you—not because of me.”

I was about to ask him what he meant by “do this” when he leaned down and kissed me.

At first, I was too surprised to move. Just like last night, his lips burned. They pressed nicely against mine. Without thinking, I laced my fingers through his curls. He slipped his hands to my back, pulling me closer.

Something coursed through my body. Something I’d never felt before—not even with Jarvis. A strange sense of belonging accompanied it.

Just as suddenly as he started, he stopped. “Holy tornadoes, Gabriella.” He stepped away, breathing hard. “Sorry.”

Then he left, the cabin door swinging closed in my face. I sat back down, staring at nothing. His ashy scent lingered, and I breathed it in. I relived the kiss—the pressure of his mouth, the gentle firmness of his hands.

I hadn’t even seen it coming.

Status: Confused.

“Let’s go, Gabe.” Adam’s voice cut through the illusion, hard and tough, not the husky tone I’d just heard say my girl name. I shook my head to dislodge the spongy feeling in my brain.

Outside the cabin, Adam stood with a knife extended toward me. I took it without speaking. He turned around and said to Hanai, “Lead the way, man. We’ve got heaps to do to get you jokers knife-worthy.”

Hanai grinned before striding into the forest. I glanced at the knife, semi-repulsed from holding it, and sighed before following them into the trees.

After twenty minutes of meandering, Hanai stopped in a clearing. The ground had a generous covering of snow that I managed to melt before Adam could bark the command.

I kept my eyes down, still pondering what had happened in the cabin. Somehow he’d blocked the transmission. But why did he kiss me afterward? I wished I hadn’t liked it so much.

With the ground clear, Adam demonstrated how to hold a knife. “They’re weighted. Can you feel it?” He stopped in front of Hanai and adjusted his hold on the handle. “Too high. Down here. Feel the difference?”

Hanai nodded as Adam moved over to me. “You too. Scoot it down.” He didn’t touch me as I moved my hand lower on the handle.

The knife did feel different, almost like I could balance it on my thumb. A patch of tiny bumps ran under the joint of my first finger.

“Okay. Now, keeping your knife is important. If your opponent can disarm you, you’re dead. Gabe, you’re up first.”

I took my position—feet a manly shoulder-width apart—across from Adam while Hanai loitered several feet away.

“Keep your knife,” Adam said. Like that was an adequate instruction.

I gripped it tighter. Adam lunged forward, and I stepped sideways to avoid him. He elbowed me from behind, the blow landing on my triceps. The force traveled down my arm and the knife slipped from my fingers. The cool metal of his blade kissed my neck.

“You’re dead,” he said.

Time: Three blazing seconds.

I twisted out of his grip and glared at him. I didn’t look away as I bent to pick up the knife.

“Hanai,” Adam said, ignoring my hostility.

I leaned against a tree while Adam disarmed Hanai with his bare hands. At least Hanai wasn’t very good at this either.

Adam disarmed me again and again. And again. After half an hour, I wanted to punch him. Instead, I watched him start in on Hanai again. He led with his right foot, but the blow came from his left hand. He rocked back on his heels before using his body weight to deliver the disarming blow. Hanai’s knife landed several feet away. All that after only five seconds.

Adam wasn’t even breathing hard. I gripped the knife and spread my feet the way I’d just seen him do. I looked into his eyes for only a second before focusing on his feet.

This time he led with his left foot, but it was a smaller step. I jumped backward, forcing him to commit. He placed his full weight on his right foot. I shuffled left, narrowly escaping the blow that swept in from his left hand.

He adjusted his body and rocked back. I held up one hand and spewed fire as he lunged. He spun to avoid the flames, but I stepped right through them. I held the knife to his throat before he could regain his footing.

His breath washed over my hand as he laughed. “Nice one. All’s fair in war, especially Elements.”

He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help smiling back. I took off my sweatshirt and tossed it toward the tree I’d been leaning against.

“But I don’t have an Element,” Hanai complained.

“Use what you do have,” Adam said. “With your stealth, you may never come into a hand-to-hand battle. But Gabe here is as clumsy and loud as an ox.”

Hanai laughed with Adam.

“Funny,” I said, folding my arms.

“Just a joke,” Adam said.

“Really witty.”

Adam shrugged and disarmed Hanai in record time. When it was my turn again, he said, “Attacking. You stand different to attack. Last time you copied my feet, which worked. But you really should have a wider stance to attack. You can balance your weight better and have more freedom of direction.”

“Freedom of direction?”

“Just get set up.”

I spread my feet again, my left one about a foot in front of my right. Adam stepped over and put both hands on my shoulders.

“A little lower,” he said, pressing down. “See how that centers you more? Yeah, spread your feet…move the right one back.” He pushed my thigh back.

My heart hammered out of control. Adam affected me in such an unfamiliar way. I didn’t know how to classify the feelings battling inside. I felt strange, and hot, and out of control. I blinked and pushed down the fire threatening to explode out.

A trace of a smile lingered in his eyes. “Okay, disarm me this time.” He scanned me from head to toe.

I shuffle-stepped with my left foot. Adam mirrored me with a step to his right.

I stepped forward with my right foot and pushed off hard, leaping into the air.

He expected the blow to come from my left—his right. He moved just as I swung around in a complete circle. My right foot connected with his elbow, knocking the knife to the ground.

Adam grunted as I landed in a crouching position, my own knife still raised. He kicked up, and I blocked his boot with my left hand.

I straightened, swinging my blade in a wide arc from right to left. Adam gasped and clutched his chin. Time slowed down as I finished the attack.

A slash of red discolored the knife. I dropped it, stumbling backward. He groaned, the sound mixed with pain and disbelief.

“Blazes!” I stepped forward. Blood dripped through Adam’s fingers. I pulled off my T-shirt. “Lie down.”

He obeyed and I dabbed his chin with my shirt. Hanai joined me, pouring water from a skein. When I saw the tiny cut, I giggled because of my nerves. It sounded so girly.

“Just a little scrape,” Hanai said. “I’ll bandage it.”

Adam closed his eyes. His breath was shallow. His face whitened.

“Adam?” I reached out but pulled back before I touched him.

He swallowed and shook his head. Hanai returned and taped a square of cloth over Adam’s chin. “You’re going to live.”

Adam remained on the ground, his chest heaving. I looked at Hanai. “Could you give us a minute?”

Hanai nodded and gathered his medical supplies before retreating. Keeping my bare hand covered with wet fabric, I washed Adam’s bloody hands as well as the smears on his neck.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes.

“Can’t stand the sight of blood, huh?” I asked.

He sat up slowly. “Now you know why I’m a terrible sentry.”

I rocked back on my heels, holding my soiled T-shirt. “At least you’re not as clumsy and loud as an ox.”

He managed to laugh. Then his gaze raked over my body. “Did Hanai see you like that?”

I looked down at my cream-colored camisole. Skin-tight, it left very little to the imagination, even if what I had was very little. I gasped. Adam eyes were glued to my chest. He licked his lips.

I clutched the bloodied T-shirt over myself.

“Yeah, I saw her.” Hanai appeared next to Adam silently, as if he’d been hovering there the entire time.

“At least my father’s ‘lovely fire’ comment makes sense now,” Hanai said. “And why Adam’s—”

“Shut up,” Adam warned.

Still clutching the soiled T-shirt to my traitorous chest, my mind raced with how I could cover up without giving them another eyeful. I spun on the balls of my feet until I was crouching with my back to them. I started to pull the blood-soaked shirt over my head without lifting my arms too much.

“Don’t Gabby,” Adam said. “That’s sick. Here.” He retrieved my discarded sweatshirt and handed it to me over my shoulder.

I quickly put it on, picked up my knife, and stood. I took a deep breath and turned around.

Hanai and Adam both stared at me, with different expressions on their faces. Hanai’s eyes blazed with anger, and Adam had a look I couldn’t place. He wasn’t mad, or satisfied, or anything I would’ve understood.

“Gabby, huh?” Hanai spat.

I blinked in response, surprised by the snap in his voice.

“She’s cool,” Adam said. “We just weren’t sure how you’d react.”

“So you lied.”

“Firemakers aren’t supposed to be girls,” I said, hating the weakness in my words.

“Councilmen—or women—aren’t supposed to lie to their Council.” Hanai took a step forward. His eyes never left mine.

I wanted to tell him where to get off, but I thought he might rip me limb from limb. “We should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve. Did you think I’d never find out?”

“We wanted to tell you last night, but Gabby was just too tired.” The lie rolled smoothly off Adam’s tongue. It sounded so true.

“You guys slept together,” Hanai said. He looked half hopeful, half shocked.

“No, we didn’t,” I said a little too loud.

Adam grinned and clapped Hanai on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. You can sleep with her tonight. I’ve already warned you about how clumsy she is. Talks in her sleep too.”

“Infernos.” I turned and stomped through the trees.

“Let her go,” I heard Adam say. “You and I need to talk.”

I located the smoke and purposefully turned away from the Outcast settlement. I didn’t want to hear their Unmanifested conversation about my girliness. Surely that’s what Adam would lecture Hanai about.

She’s really not that bad. It’s okay she’s a girl.

Or maybe, She’s not like other girls. Sure, she knows nothing and well, hasn’t been trained, but I think we should stick with her.

Like Hanai would believe him.

I suddenly felt like I should stop. I silenced the imaginary conversation so I could listen to the forest. I looked up and then down. After a fifteen-foot drop, the forest floor continued unbroken. I scurried down the embankment and stood in front of a square door.

The earth had buried a building.

I bent over and brushed away the leaves at my feet. Cement.

The door felt like metal. When I lifted it, a loud squeal came from the moving parts, and rotting splinters fell from the wooden beams above. A horrible smell of decay burst from the garage. Boxes littered the left side. Darkness filled the remaining space.

I charred the cement at my feet. Some of the leaves caught the fire. I let them burn, inhaling the smoke. Now I’d be able to find my way back, preferably with Adam and Hanai. They were probably wondering where I was, but as I turned to leave, something glinted in the corner. A doorknob.

I crossed the garage and examined the door. Material: Pine. Status: Stuck.

I twisted the knob and leaned my whole weight into the door. It swung open with a deafening screech. A damp, moldy smell emanated from the dark hallway.

I lit both hands and threw a ball of flames down the corridor. I may not have had formal training, but I knew enough to check for danger before entering an unknown area.

I saw crumbling walls, a low ceiling, and more debris on the floor. No bones, no bodies, no traps. I pulled the flames back to my body before they made friends with the walls and ignited into a lasting relationship.

I stepped into the hall, holding my hands out for light. Whoever had lived here had left in a hurry. Family pictures still hung on the walls. Some of them had a glass covering, the portraits obscured by decades of grime. White plaster littered the carpeted floor. This dwelling was ancient. See, carpet had been discontinued immediately following the Manifestation. Too flammable.

The hallway turned left before ending in a small room with a single bed, a cushy chair, and a sink in the corner. Another door led from the room, but when I opened it, I found the ceiling had collapsed, filling the space with soil and rocks.

I turned back to the bedroom. By the faint glow of my hands, I searched the three cupboards surrounding the sink. A few cans of food stood on the shelves. A couple boxes too. I pulled it all out and set it on the counter. We could come get it later.

Dirt disfigured the bedspread. The chair had once been blue. When I touched the crusty upholstery, dust filled the air. I coughed before I noticed another door behind the chair.

Several coats hung in the closet. When I pushed them aside, my hand brushed something silky. Sparkly things glittered on the navy blue fabric. But the top part of the dress was missing. Thin straps connected the front panel to the back, just like my camisole.

Next to the dress hung an assortment of T-shirts. Several pairs of boots lay scattered on the floor. I had the sudden thought that perhaps this place shouldn’t be disturbed, so I turned to leave empty handed.

I had just pulled down the garage door when I heard voices.

“Are you sure she’s over here? Why would she come this way?” Adam’s words came out in annoyed bursts.

“Look, can you feel her spirit? She’s way less hyper than you. Shut up. I need to concentrate.”

“I am not hyper.”

“Whatever. Are you going to tell her, or should I?”

Their footsteps—Adam’s at least—came closer. I wondered what he needed to tell me.

“I’ll tell her. We can’t have any more secrets.” He stopped moving. “But you keep your big mouth shut about my soul…yearning for hers, got it?”

Hanai laughed. “You just said no secrets.”

“That doesn’t affect our Council. I’m working through it.” The leaves rustled again as he resumed walking.

“You keep saying that like you’re solving a problem. Gabby is not a problem. Did you see—?”

“Shut up.”

Silence. Neither one of them moved or spoke. I worked hard to keep breathing in and out. See, I wanted to let them in, both of them. Right into my life, to share my deepest, darkest secrets. But I’d been hurt too many times before.

I dug my fingertips into the frozen earth and rebuilt the wall around my heart. It flopped against the confining barrier, but I thought of Jarvis and then Patches. They’d both chosen other things over me. So had Cat and Isaiah, even if their something better was a Council.

I couldn’t bear it if Hanai and Adam did the same thing.

“Trust me. My,” Adam cleared his throat, “feelings for her are a problem.”

“Because why?”

“They just are.”

“If you say so. There she is. Told ya,” Hanai said, emerging from the trees right behind Adam.

“Gabby, are you okay?” Adam crossed the leaf-strewn cement and scrutinized me.

“Hyper,” Hanai whispered.

Concern and anger simultaneously burned through Adam’s eyes. I did my best to smile, but the action stretched my skin too tight. “I’m fine. Look, I found a building.” I pointed behind me. “There’s food, shoes, coats. Maybe we can come back before we leave for Gregorio.”

“You went in there alone?” Adam eyed the closed door like it had done me wrong.

“Yeah, why not? Are you scared of the dark, Airmaster? Or you think girls can’t—”

“Chill, Gabby,” he interrupted. “I was just worried about you when we made it back to the settlement and you weren’t there. Okay?”

I bent under the weight of his glare. “Yeah, okay.” He hadn’t denied being afraid of the dark. “You want to go see?”

“No, I’ve been there before.” Adam put his arm around my shoulders and turned me away from the garage. “Let’s get back. Hanai, lead the way.”

Hanai disappeared into the trees, leaving me alone with Adam. He didn’t remove his arm, and I actually liked how it felt across my shoulders.

“Listen, Gabby, don’t go off on your own again. I—we were really worried. You’re our Firemaker, our Councilman. We’re nothing without you.”

“We?” I asked. “Or just you?”

Adam pulled me into a hug. I inhaled his lemony, ashy scent as I closed my eyes.

“Me. I was worried. I…I like you Gabby, in case you haven’t figured that out.”

The wall shuddered. My heart battered it, desperate to be free. To be Adam’s.

“There you go, clamming up again,” he teased.

I studied the ground. Then I slid my hand into Adam’s. Hanai was either long gone or hidden, so I searched for the smoke to guide us back to the settlement.

Hanai acted weird all day. He kept glancing at me while raking his eyes over my body or muttering under his breath. I spent a long time in the hot spring by myself, and the rest of the time I stayed close to Adam.

As soon as Adam and Hanai got back from their bath, I headed toward the cabin. I shot Adam a knowing look along the way. He followed, catching the door before it closed.

I sat on Hanai’s cot while Adam stretched out on a blanket on the floor. “What’s up?”

“I need you to teach me to read.”

“Oh, that. Sure, let me get Hanai.” He got up and moved toward the door.

“Wait. I didn’t know it was going to be a group lesson.”

“He needs to learn too, Gabby. If I’m teaching you, he might as well join us.”

“Okay…but just a minute.” Yet I stood there, mute.

Adam moved closer. “What is it?” He smelled like hot water and spicy soap. And that heavenly smoke. I submerged my erratic feelings and tried to find the right words.

“I—I—” My thoughts blurred. How did I tell him how important he was to me without coming across as needy? Emotional?

Broken.

“Blazes,” I swore. “Thanks.”

His face remained unreadable. “Thanks? For what?”

“For…you know. Everything.” I leaned forward, trying to make him see that I’d let him in, just a little. That I appreciated him accepting me for what I was. That I accepted him for who he was.

He blinked, and something weird happened to his eyes. Was he crying?

“Adam?” I reached toward him, hesitating. I couldn’t initiate the contact.

He took my hand and placed it on his cheek. He was gorgeous and peaceful in the flickering firelight. I gingerly ran my fingers through his hair. Status: Silky and still a little damp.

“Things are so messed up,” he whispered. “It isn’t supposed to be this way.”

Confused, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Did he mean I was screwed up? Didn’t he like me? And I had no idea what wasn’t supposed to be what way.

“Please say something,” Adam said.

“What’s messed up?”

“Just everything.”

A non-answer. Typical. “Tell me.”

The cabin door creaked, and I spun around. Hanai stood there, a half-smile on his face. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“’Course not,” I said too fast. “Adam was just coming to get you for a reading lesson.” I turned around as Adam sat.

Tears: Gone—if they were ever there.

Honesty policy: Evaporated.

“Let’s do the alphabet first. Hanai, come sit by Gabby. Move over, girl.” Adam had disappeared behind his tough-guy mask. Even his voice sounded different. Lower. Sentry-trained.

As I slid over, I realized the real Adam was the scared guy. The one who allowed himself to like me enough to kiss me. To cry with me. Not the sentry who knew how to handle a knife or survive in the wilderness.

And, well, I wanted to carve a place for each of them inside my heart.

“You two are on one tonight,” Hanai said as he sat down. “Totally hyper.”

“Shut up,” Adam growled as I asked, “What does that mean?”

Hanai chuckled. “Could mean one thing for Adam and something totally different for you. All I feel is the pulsing energy coming from both of you.”

I took a couple of deep breaths and kept my gaze on the ground.

Adam leaned over to write in the dirt. “These are letters. There are twenty-six of them. They make words.”

Hanai and Adam sat too close, pressing in on either side of me. At least they’d taken baths. They smelled ashy, and I pushed down my fire as it leaped inside.

I smiled at Hanai, and he placed his hand on my thigh. We both looked at it. His warmth emanated through the leather, infusing my bloodstream with a steady heat. Time seemed to slow. My head felt too heavy when I glanced up. Hanai met my eye, a graceful smile dancing across his lips.

“Are you ready?” Adam’s voice accelerated time.

Hanai removed his hand, and the world turned cold again. I shivered with the loss, and Adam’s glare added to the chill.

“I’m ready,” Hanai said.

We listened to Adam, who had drawn a box around five of the letters and called them vowels. He taught us what sounds the letters made. Then he randomly pointed to one and made us repeat the sound. After a while, the lantern flickered.

“All right, that’s enough for tonight. I’m exhausted.” Adam started to get up.

“Wait.” I pulled on his arm. He cried out, sort of a strangled groan mixed with pain. A lot of pain. His eyes squeezed shut, and his jaw clenched. He fell back without catching himself, his head making a sickening thump on the packed dirt.

“What happened?” Hanai asked, jumping up to help Adam..

“I just…touched him.” My voice trailed into nothing with the realization.

Hanai felt his neck for a pulse, and then ran his fingers across his forehead. “I think he’s seizing.”

Helpless tears splashed my face. “No, he’ll be okay. He said he could do this. Adam, open your eyes.”

He didn’t. Now his shoulders shook, the tremor running down his back where a faint orange light flashed once.

“Take off his shirt,” I commanded.

Hanai’s eyes widened. “Gabby, come on. I know you guys like each other, but—”

“Just take it off, Hanai. I can’t touch him.”

“Do. It,” Adam growled through clenched teeth.

“Whatever you say.” Hanai lifted Adam’s T-shirt over his head.

The tattoo discolored his back, stained both shoulders. A few thin lines snaked over his collarbone and down his chest.

“The tattoo is growing, Adam. It’s covering your whole body.” The lines expanded, flowing under the waistband of his jeans—I jerked my eyes back to his face.

“Water,” Adam panted. “And you gotta leave, Gabby.”

I sprang up and handed Hanai the basin from the table by the door. “Get my father,” he said. Adam murmured instructions, but I left without waiting to see what happened next.

Full dark blanketed the camp. I wiped angrily at the tears flowing down my face. I couldn’t believe how blazing stupid I’d been.

I mean, really. I’d touched him. Idiot.

I thought of Patches and how he’d said we couldn’t see each other anymore. While I’d nursed his tender flesh, he’d told me that he received a neurological message of the new target, and the lines of the tattoo held data and changed every time the sentry transmitted the information they’d gathered.

His had only moved once, and he’d screamed and screamed. The ghosts of his agonizing wails filled my ears as I walked.

The Chief stepped into my path. “What’s happened?” His voice sounded so parental, so kind. My tears renewed themselves.

I gestured back toward the cabin. “Adam needs help.”

The Chief placed one hand on my shoulder for a long moment before striding toward the camp. I continued through the forest, forcing myself to take deep breaths to get the tears to stop.

A few minutes later, I found myself at the hot spring. I lay next to the eternal flame, longing for the soothing comfort of smoke. But the eternal flame brought no such relief. I tried to think of something else, but all I saw were the expanding lines on Adam’s back. Engulfing him. Crushing him.

The tattoo created one mass of black. Two hands grew out of the darkness and pushed, pushed on my chest.

I couldn’t breathe. I felt like someone had bound me in Elemental cancellers, forcing my firepower to slowly ebb into nothing.

What remained: Adam’s tattoo.

“You awake?”

My eyes flew open with Hanai’s question. I sat up, trying to distinguish reality from what existed in my head.

Hanai watched me with thoughtful lines around his mouth. In that moment, I felt like he genuinely cared about me, and the walls around my heart crumbled a little.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Is Adam okay?”

Hanai sat down and brushed a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. “I think he’ll be all right. My father is with him. What really happened?”

I invited the eternal flames to dance in my palm, which they did eagerly. “Well, I touched him.” I glanced at him. “What did he tell you?”

“He said you’d spill his secret.”

“He said that?”

“Look, I’m pissed you guys both have so many secrets. So just tell me already.”

“Oh, please. You’re not mad.” I bumped him with my shoulder. “Besides I overheard you and Adam talking, and he said he had something to tell me, and I still don’t know what that’s all about.”

“Nothing, really. That Adam might know some Elementals for our Council.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s nothing.”

“Not like learning your Councilman is really a woman.” He sounded on the outer edge of frustration.

“That’s nothing too,” I said, trying to force a measure of playfulness into my tone.

He grinned, though it looked like he was trying to hold it back. “You serious? Finding out you’re a girl? That was rough. At least I got to see—”

“Okay, okay. I’m the Firemaker from Cyrlon the sentries are looking for. But I swear I didn’t set that fire. Adam’s a trained and active sentry, and my print has been uploaded to his tattoo. He has to initiate all contact between us in order to cancel the transmission.”

“Active?”

“Yes. For the Supreme Elemental. So, was he able to stop the transmission?”

Hanai sputtered like he’d just realized he needed oxygen to live. “The Supreme Elemental?”

“That’s what I said.” A dull ache radiated forward from the back of my skull.

“Active?”

“Did you see that tattoo? You think that’s a beauty mark?”

Hanai opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “Did he stop the transmission or not?”

He took a deep breath. “This is heavy. He told me he ran away last year. I think he’s telling the truth there. But to still be an active sentry? That’s against the agreement he has with my father. He’s going to be livid.”

“But did Adam stop the transmission? ‘Cause if we need to run, we should go.”

“He thinks he stopped it. He didn’t explain anything but he kept saying ‘I think I did it. Tell Gabby I think I did it.’”

I nodded and focused on the glassy surface of the hot spring. Hanai gently placed his fingers on my face and forced me to look at him. “What now?”

The air entering my lungs lightened. Hanai’s dark eyes held mine, searching. Again, I felt as if the spinning of the Earth had paused.

“Adam said there’s an Unmanifested rebellion in Gregorio that’s supported by the Councilman.” My meaning was clear. We needed a Council, and our best bet was to find Adam’s friends and hope the Councilman of Gregorio would charter it.

He dropped his hand, and the tangled mess of my life snapped back into motion. Surely he’d used one of his Spirit-speaker gifts on me, but I didn’t care. I liked feeling as if time didn’t matter, that everything was warm and right with the world, that Hanai and I—

I stalled the thought there, unsure about what might complete it. Terrified to destroy the walls surrounding my heart, release the pent-up resentment, and let him in.

“So, uh, Gabby,” he said, my girl name foreign in his mouth. “Are you seriously considering leading a Council when you can’t even touch one of your own members?”

“I don’t need to touch Adam. Why would I need to do that to run a Council?”

“Well if…you’re kissing him. How would that work?” Hanai’s voice faded. “And where would that leave me?”

Ah, so there we sat. “Hanai, you don’t have to worry about anything. I need you on the Council as much as I need Adam. No more, no less. I’m, well…working through some confusing things.”

Hanai chuckled. “You sound just like him.” His playful smile faded. “I can’t believe he’s an active sentry.”

I looked down at the fire leaping in my hands. “We shouldn’t trust him.”

“No, we shouldn’t.” He pinned me with a pointed look. The flames shone in his dark eyes.

“Hanai, what would you do if you were me?”

He leaned closer. “Adam has skills. Contacts. Knowledge.”

I studied him, hearing the meaning concealed in the words. I needed to use Adam.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“It sucks all around.” Hanai put his hand on my knee and looked at it like he couldn’t figure out how it got there. “But—” He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away. “Let’s learn as much from him as we can before we do anything stupid.”

Like getting involved, I thought.

Hanai stood up and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m beat.”

“You were acting weird today,” I said as we climbed the steps.

“Yeah, well, I was working through some of my own confusing things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled from behind.

Back at the cabin, I paused with my hand on the door. I spun, finding Hanai immediately behind me. His hand fumbled along my arm as I stumbled over his feet.

“Sorry. You okay?” He let his hand linger on my elbow.

A tiny shuffle step put more space between us. I swallowed hard at the soft curve of his lips. “Uh, yeah. Look, where are you sleeping? Councils should stick together.”

“Way ahead of you, girl. I—” He cut off, probably because of my murderous glare.

“Girl?”

He tilted his head. “You really hate being a girl that much.” He wasn’t asking.

“Is that what Adam said?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“He said you thought no one would accept you. But you’re wrong. I don’t care that you’re a girl. I….” He stepped closer. “I made myself a bed in the corner.” But he didn’t move.

“You should take your cot back.”

His gaze flickered to my chest and back. “It’s okay. I don’t—”

“If I were a guy would you let me keep your bed?” I folded my arms over my incriminating evidence.

He sighed.

“Exactly. I’ll be fine on the ground.” I turned and entered the cabin. Like I was going to let him get away with chivalry.

The lantern had been trimmed so only a faint ember glowed. I waited until my eyes adjusted, then I located the bed Hanai had prepared on the floor.

Placement: Diagonal from Adam.

I crossed the cabin and lay down. I looked at Adam and choked back a scream so I wouldn’t disturb the Chief, who I could hear chanting softly on the other side of the curtain. The black tattoo ran in thick, coiling stains over his neck and face. His eyes were closed, and a staining redness of broken blood vessels covered his forehead. The mottled cloak covered his body.

“He’s okay,” Hanai whispered from the cot. “He just looks bad.”

“Looks bad?” I almost shouted. “Those lines are thicker and blacker…. What did I do?” The useless tears welled up again.

Hanai knelt in front of me. “Hey, it’ll recede.”

“You don’t know that.” I tore my eyes off Adam’s garish face and looked at Hanai. “Do you?”

He smiled and wiped my tears away. “No, I don’t know that. But don’t cry, Firemaker. He’s not dead yet.” Hanai squeezed my shoulder and retreated to his cot. I stole another look at Adam’s disfigured face before rolling over and closing my eyes. The covering tattoo stained the back of my eyelids, and sleep took a long time to come.

When I woke up, the cabin was empty. I locked the door and changed my clothes. Adam’s sleeping area was clean and orderly. I copied him, folding the blanket and leaving it on top of my clothes before I went outside.

The seats around the smoldering fire lay vacant. I glanced down the main thoroughfare. Status: Abandoned.

Determined not to panic, I strode over to the fire. I thought Adam had left me before, but he never had. Hanai and I had decided to stay, so I held my hands over the dying flames, trying to work out the stiffness in my knuckles.

I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. The smoke painted my senses. I stretched, reached, and extended my power into the forest. I sensed the charred leaves in the garage…the eternal flame at the hot spring…and that was all.

I opened my eyes. The sun had already come up, but there were no breakfast dishes. No people. No noise.

A breeze rippled through the trees. “Hide,” it whispered. The single word carried desperation.

Without hesitating, I ran. As I ducked through the trees, I felt for the knife at my waistband. I wove through the forest, keeping the wind at my back and a tight grip on the knife.

I paused at the edge of the clearing, panting, and zeroed in on the garage. Everything seemed peaceful. No wind. No movement. Nothing.

As a precaution, I reached for the smoke back at camp. I watched it fill the clearing, fill my very soul. I dashed through the cover and yanked the garage door up. It rose silently. My nervous radar screamed, Problem!

I spun and crouched, scooting around the side of the garage and behind a boulder. The smoke drifted into the trees, slowly revealing the clearing.

Vacant.

“Come out, Gabriella.”

I couldn’t locate Felix, because his voice echoed everywhere.

My heart pounded so loud I couldn’t think.

Everything turned still again. Not even the twitter of a bird broke the silence.

Then Hanai stumbled out of the thicket. Blood trickled down his cheek, and he fell to his knees before landing face-down in the snow. Felix followed him, wiping his knife on the sleeve of his black shirt.

“Come on out,” Felix called, glancing around. “Before someone else gets hurt.”

I swiped at the tears blurring my view of Felix. Like Hanai had said, I’m not dead yet.

But I wanted to die when Adam emerged from the trees wearing his black—

—sentry—

—uniform.

The unsightly tattoo still disfigured his face and neck. It snaked out from under his short sleeves, covering both arms and marring both hands.

The blazing traitor! He’d truly switched sides this time. He hadn’t in the cave, at the wall, or in the forest. I thought he had, but he’d shown up with the perfect explanation. But now…. Now he wore the wrong clothes and carried the wrong knife.

The small part of me that wasn’t pulsing with anger said, He warned you, told you to hide.

Adam bent over something in the snow, twirling a knife in his right hand. A tremor rumbled through my body. I thought my terror had leaked out. But when another vibration shook me, I realized it came from the ground.

An Earthmover.

Well, he’d have a nice little party in the meadow with Hanai, Felix, and Adam. I wasn’t planning on sticking around for the festivities.

“We have the settlement surrounded,” Felix called, looking toward some bushes to my left.

“You ready?”

I almost screamed at the whisper behind me. I spun, knife raised.

“Whoa, Gabby. It’s me, Hanai.”

I wanted to light him on fire for sneaking up on me. I hadn’t seen him move from the clearing, and I was sure Felix hadn’t either. I watched Hanai wipe the blood off his neck—no wound—and exhaled too loudly, cutting off the hiss as Felix looked my way.

Hanai slid his hand into mine. “We only have a few seconds to get in the garage. Watch Adam.”

Adam sauntered over to Felix, about twenty yards away from Hanai and I. Adam leaned in close and said something. He flicked his hand behind his back, and Hanai yanked me forward. “Now! Run!”

An explosion of dirt and snow shot out of the ground between us and Adam. Hanai shoved me into the garage, but Adam’s startled shout caught my attention. I turned just in time to see him plunge something into Felix’s neck. Then he ran toward the garage and a tall, black man covered in the inner workings of the earth. He tapped the man’s shoulder as he passed. The black guy sprinted after Adam, barely moving out of the way as a second underground explosion soared skyward.

Something strange, a burning coal, melted its way through my brain. I hadn’t felt this sensation since leaving Jarvis in Crylon.

Another Firemaker.

In the clearing stood a man. Scratch that—a woman. I knew her from my lessons—the Supreme Elemental.

She dusted the dirt from her shoulders and sent a parade of flames after Adam and the black man.

I pulled the fire toward me, consuming it until only a trail of smoke remained. Her fire burned as hot as mine, igniting my suppressed anger. I glared at the Supremist, ready if she threw more flames. She didn’t.

Adam barreled closer, saying something to the Earthmover as they reached the garage. When he grabbed my hand, Adam nearly wrenched my shoulder out of the socket. “Time to go. Isaiah, fill it in. Hanai, lead the way.”

I ground to a halt as Hanai sprinted down the hallway. “Isaiah?”

“No time,” Adam said. “Let’s go.” He dragged me after Hanai, with Isaiah bringing up the rear. The sunlight petered out as the Earthmover— is it really Isaiah?—filled the hall with dirt.

Adam whistled and said, “Left, four steps.”

Isaiah turned, counted off the steps and followed us left down the second passage.

“Fill it, man,” Adam said, still towing me behind him. I stumbled along, trying to walk forward while watching Isaiah behind me. He pressed his hands down against an invisible counter, each movement accented with a grunt. The earth obeyed, plunging from the ceiling above, sealing the passage.

I couldn’t quite tell if it was my Isaiah—my friend from Crylon. His skin was the same cocoa color, but why was Adam verbally counting off his steps?

We clustered in the tiny bedroom. Hanai was already loading food into the backpack while Adam opened the closet door.

“Two steps, stop, Isaiah. By the way, this is the Firemaker I told you about, Gabriella. Gabby, I think you already know Isaiah Hawking, Earthmover.”

The Earthmover wore clothes that could have been any color, but were so matted in soil it was impossible to tell. He was completely bald, and he only held his eyes open halfway.

“Gabbers,” Isaiah said, reaching for me. He didn’t even get close to where I stood.

“Isaiah?” I whispered. He looked so different. Tired. Worried.

Adam poked his head out of the closet. “Coat, Isaiah? Hurricanes, Gabby, shake the man’s hand.”

I stepped forward and took Isaiah’s outstretched hand between both of mine. Isaiah’s hand. The ones that used to hold me tight and lightly trace Cat’s face.

“I need a coat,” Hanai said from across the room.

“Me too,” Isaiah added.

“Okay, two coats. Shoes?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, bring ‘em,” Hanai said. “I’ve got the two cloaks.”

“No shoes for me,” Isaiah said. The ground shook, and one of the ancient pictures fell off the wall. “We better split.”

“Tornadoes, Gabby, look at this.” Adam held up the blue half-dress. He was staring at it like he could envision me in it. Well, that was as close as he was going to get.

Hanai rolled his eyes and tapped Isaiah on the right arm. “Five steps, door. I’ve got the backpack, Adam. What else?”

“We’re bringing this.” Adam rolled up the dress. “Give Gabby a cloak. I need one too. I can’t be seen until this tattoo fades.”

Isaiah opened the door to the caved-in hall. The ground swayed, and I lurched toward him. He caught me before I fell, though I didn’t know how. He was blind.

Sudden sadness swept through me. He’d had his sight when he’d left for diplomacy training last year. Fear struck my heart. “Where’s Cat?” I asked. “What happened to you?”

“We have to leave now,” Isaiah said.

“You heard the man,” Adam said. “Hanai, you’re first. Gabby, come on.”

I hurried to fasten the cloak as Hanai maneuvered into the passage. Adam followed, gripping my hand again. Isaiah inhaled sharply through his nose and lifted both hands. The debris blocking our escape exploded upward.

“I’m not wearing that dress,” I hissed to Adam as we moved down the hall.

He grinned, making his tattooed face even more sinister. “We’ll see.”

Just then an explosion sounded behind us. I turned at the same time Adam did.

The Supremist stood with Felix, who sported a bandage on the side of his neck. The fire nestled in her palm illuminated her slate-colored eyes and sharp cheekbones. She wore a devilish smile.

She sent a jet of flames that Isaiah buried under a landslide. I shot two fireballs from my hands at the same time Adam launched a spinning current of air. Alex and Felix ducked out of the doorway.

“Be sure to report in, brother,” Felix taunted.

“Torch it, Gabbers,” Isaiah said. “I’ll seal us in.”

I stepped in front of him, pouring fire from my outstretched hands. Someone screamed and it sounded horribly like Patches. The wail tore the air—and my heart.

“Move,” Isaiah barked, and I ducked behind him, my fists clenched. He blocked the passage from floor to ceiling with thick, damp earth.

“You’re quick,” he said as he turned around. “I can’t believe you’re a Firemaker, girl.”

“Yeah, well, you’re blind.”

“Stories, stories,” Adam said. “Later, okay?”

“Where’s C—?”

“Later!” Adam yelled as a violent tremor shook the earth, and more of the ceiling fell.

“Fine, later,” I growled, following him into the darkness.

Isaiah joined Hanai, clearing the tunnel based on the Spirit-speaker’s directions. I walked behind Adam, my palms blazing, my mind dancing.

He glanced back at me several times, unspoken questions glinting in his eyes. Now that he wore the sentry clothes, my nightmare was complete. He seemed to be on my side, but—

“What are you thinking?” he asked as Hanai turned right and instructed Isaiah to clear the way.

My jaw clenched. “Nothing.”

Adam scoffed. “Right. Seems like you’d have some stuff to get off your…chest.”

Classy. I folded my arms. “Okay, where’d you find Isaiah? Did you know he’s from Crylon? That he’s my friend? Why’d you leave me in the cabin? How did your backpack suddenly get in that garage? Were you and Hanai planning to leave me? What’s with the tattoo?” I glanced at his traitorous sentry uniform. “And your clothes?”

I gulped the thin oxygen. “Are you still with me?”

Silence filled the tunnel as the three of them—including the blind guy—stared at me.

Then Adam laughed. “And I’m more hyper than her?” He hooked his thumb at me while he looked at Hanai. “I don’t believe that. Breathe, Gabby.” He chuckled again. “I know Isaiah from Tarpulin. So I sent him a message through the air the night I found out you were a girl. I knew he needed a Council, and when he heard it was you, he came immediately.”

I glanced at Isaiah, with his dark skin and half-open eyes. His grin was the same, his voice, his hands. A sharp pain tore through me at how much he was the same, but also at how very changed.

Adam followed my gaze, and then looked at me again. “Hanai thought you could use the sleep, so he let you rest. We brought the backpack to the garage to check out what you’d found. That’s when all hell broke loose. Isaiah had been burrowing underground for a while, trying to lose Alex. Felix and Patches crossed the border into the Outcast settlement—uninvited. Chief Tavar was livid. We went to help.”

I waited, expecting more. Adam stared back, the lines on his face unforgiving.

Hanai stepped toward me, his eyes pleading. “Adam pretended like he was turning me in. He changed his clothes and told them he knew where you were.”

“Then I sent you a message and well…you saw the rest,” Adam said. “What else did you ask?”

“Tattoo,” Isaiah answered for me.

“Oh, right. Obviously I’m fine, and obviously I couldn’t stop the transmission. I fought hard though, that’s why this raging thing covered me. And I told you, you’re my Firemaker.”

“And mine,” Hanai and Isaiah said together.

A smiled pulled at Adam’s mouth. “So relax, okay? We’re headed to Gregorio—if that’s okay with you. The chaos there will benefit us. Keeps the attention away from us, maybe long enough to gain the protection from a chartering.”

“Yeah, okay,” I mumbled. Their pledge touched me. I didn’t want to admit how much it meant. How much they meant to me.

Hanai ran his fingers over the wall. “Here, Isaiah. This is south.”

Isaiah worked his Element, clearing the tunnel. They moved into the new passageway.

“We cool?” Adam’s breath slid across my neck.

I shivered. “Yeah. We’re cool.” I turned to follow Hanai, suddenly feeling way too hot.

Adam lightly touched my elbow. I froze.

“It’s not your fault. This tattoo thing. Okay? It’s mine. I messed up.”

“What does that mean?”

Warring emotions spread across Adam’s face. Fear, maybe. Something like annoyance. A hint of anger.

“Hey, we need the light,” Hanai called back.

“Forget it.” I hurried toward Hanai and Isaiah.

“I think we can go above ground soon,” Hanai said. “I can’t feel Alex, or anyone else.”

“Good, I’m exhausted,” Isaiah said, sagging to the ground.

I sat next to him while Hanai passed around a box of stale crackers.

Adam waved away the food and drew letters in the dirt instead. He glanced at me, half-sentry in the way he scrutinized me, half-normal in the way he seemed genuinely interested. “What did you want to know last night?”

I brushed crumbs from my hands. “How to spell my name. And yours and Hanai’s, and now Isaiah’s too.”

Adam smiled, but not at me. At Hanai. “I told you.”

Hanai shrugged. “Whatever.”

I looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to decide if I cared about their secret argument. Maybe.

But a burning sensation coated the back of my mind, which indicated another Firemaker. The Supremist. I desperately hoped she couldn’t sense my Element as part of her ability. Jarvis had said not every Firemaker could do it.

“Guys,” I said. “We should hide out here until dark. We’ll blend easier at night.”

“I’m for that,” Isaiah said. “Burrowing with Alex on my butt drained me.” He closed his cloudy eyes and settled against the wall.

I closed my eyes too, stiffening when the Supremist moved closer. Concentrating, I smothered my spark, forcing it back inside myself. Someone complained about the darkness, but I ignored him. Cat’s lovely face swam behind my closed eyes before sleep took me.

Adam’s voice haunted me. It started out concerned. Grew into panic. I tried to soothe him. He wouldn’t stop saying my name long enough to listen. He shook my shoulder, still calling for me to wake up. Which annoyed me. I was already awake.

He slowly reached toward my face. He stroked my cheekbone, and I sat up straight.

My eyes were open, but blackness blanketed me on every side. I inhaled, trying to coax my Element to life. Adam’s touch sent a flash of fire into my stomach.

I blinked, and then I could see. Isaiah lay across from me, his body registering a wicked orange in my vision. Hanai knelt over him, and he was so hot, he burned red.

I turned, and Adam’s rugged face filled my view. He lurched back, his mouth dropping open. “Raging hurricanes.” He moved a little closer, his eyes searching mine.

“What?” Hanai turned and emitted a strangled yelp. “Magic alive,” he breathed. “Gabby has therma-vision.”

“Therma-vision?” I repeated.

“Your eyes are glowing like hot coals,” Adam said. “You really freaked me out. I couldn’t wake you up.”

I frowned. I’d heard him though. Saw him.

“I still can’t wake Isaiah,” Hanai said. “Do you think it has anything to do with the Supremist?”

“I don’t see how,” Adam said, crawling over to Hanai.

My head hurt. The chill from the ground filtered through my jeans. My Element felt strange. Weaker.

While I’d been asleep, my fire had leaked further away. Maybe that was why I couldn’t wake up. Now Isaiah—

“We gotta wake him up.” I slid across the passage and put my hand on his head.

His body temperature registered in the normal range. His breathing came evenly, as if he were asleep.

I snapped my fingers at the same time I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I groaned. The therma-vision was still on, but now I held dancing flames in my palm.

And I’d nearly blinded myself.

Blazes, I looked like a girl who couldn’t even control her own Element.

I snapped my eyes shut.

“Gabby?” Hanai asked.

“I’m trying to turn off the vision thing.”

Both Adam and Hanai shifted. Surely they were rolling their eyes too.

I ignited my other hand. The fire burned, casting flickering light through my eyelids.

The therma-vision had turned off.

I released a breath and met Hanai’s eyes. He grinned and clapped his hand on my shoulder.

I refused to look at Adam.

“Isaiah, wake up,” I commanded. “I need you, Earthmover. Your Firemaker summons your Element.” I thought I sounded stupid, using the formal Council speech, but nobody snickered.

The only noise in the tunnel came from the hiss of my fire. After a few seconds, Isaiah moved, but it could’ve been a normal shift as he slept.

“Summon him.” I looked at Hanai and then Adam. “I’ll try again, then you try, Adam. Then Hanai.”

I turned back to Isaiah. He snored softly. I placed both hands on his chest. “Isaiah Hawking, I command you to Manifest your Element. Your Firemaker demands it.”

Adam repeated the same words. As he did, Isaiah started to shake. By the time Hanai finished, Isaiah opened his eyes. The earth trembled beneath us, and dirt fell from the ceiling.

“Whoa,” he said, finally coming to consciousness. “That was so weird. I heard you calling, but I couldn’t answer.” He sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “Thanks, Gabbers.”

I smiled at the old nickname. Blazes, I’d missed Isaiah more than I’d realized. “Sure.” I watched him pick up a handful of earth and rub it between his fingers. I knew how he felt. See, I kept my hands burning just to renew my power.

Adam settled against the wall. “Now that we’re all awake, maybe we could do a reading lesson until it’s dark enough to travel.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Great. Hanai, I’ll work with you. Isaiah, can you teach Gabby how to spell her name?” Adam cleared his throat and avoided my narrowed eyes. I guess he didn’t want to “mess up” again.

He moved to the other side of Hanai to write in the dirt. The tattoo only extended halfway up his face now. Even as I watched, the topmost line faded from across the bridge of his nose.

He looked up and caught me staring. He smiled and inside, my stomach melted.

“Blazes,” I murmured under my breath. I looked away, burning the sight of his twinkling eyes and playful grin in my memory.

“You ready?” Isaiah asked. “Your name is G-A-B-B-Y. Here.” He took my un-burning hand with his dark fingers and guided me as he wrote the letters. “The first letter is a G. Guh.” As always, his fingers on mine felt like security.

“What happened to you, Isaiah? Where’s Cat?”

“She had to leave Tarpulin.” His voice came out as a mere whisper. His grip on my hand tightened. “I was forced to stay and audition for a new Council.”

“What Council? Where did Cat go?”

“She’s in Gregorio. The Unmanifested rebellion has allowed her to hide. The Supremist is exterminating excess Elementals, and they know they’re next if they don’t do something. Most Councilmen disagree with Alex, but she’s powerful and has a slew of faithful supporters, so….”

My breath caught. “Is Cat—?”

“I heard from her last week. She’s hiding her Element, waiting for me to come.”

“What happened?”

“The Supremist wanted me to demonstrate my earthmoving abilities to be on her Council. She dismissed Cat.” He said it like those few words would explain everything. But they didn’t.

“And your eyes…?”

He squeezed them shut as if they still hurt.

“I’m sorry, Isaiah. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” He squeezed my fingers. “Can we talk about it later?”

I cleared my throat to cover up my embarrassment. “Sure.”

Isaiah didn’t harbor any tension in his face. He helped me with the rest of the letters in my name, and then the alphabet. He never mentioned Cat, or his blindness, again.

An hour later, I couldn’t feel the spark of another Firemaker. So Isaiah blasted a hole in the ground and created a soil staircase to the surface. A few stars winked a greeting from the navy blue sky. I was secretly glad to be above ground again. Tunneling wasn’t my idea of fun.

My teeth chattered as I breathed in the icy air. We hadn’t even left yet, and already exhaustion consumed me. See, sleeping out in the open didn’t appeal to me. At least I wasn’t alone anymore—at least physically. The walls around my heart had lowered, but hadn’t completely dissolved.

I kept my eyes down, navigating through the snow by stepping in Isaiah’s footprints. No one spoke for the first couple of hours, and I simply existed inside my own skin. For once, I didn’t wish I was someone else, existing somewhere else, doing something else.

The only resistance I met was the complaining of my stomach. Adam wore the backpack under his cloak, and he never passed anything forward.

Then Isaiah started singing. He had a deep voice that carried easily in the midnight silence. He sang in a different language, but the words wrapped me in comfort.

We trudged on until the darkness turned charcoal, and then gray. Isaiah quieted and cleared an underground cave. He left a hole the size of my fist in the ceiling for air. I crawled to a corner, intending to sleep forever.

Until Adam popped the top of a can. “Some light, Gabby, please.”

I held out one hand, illuminating the small space.

Frost coated Hanai’s eyebrows, and Isaiah’s shoulders shook with chilly tremors. I scooted closer, urging both hands to fill with jumping flames.

Even Adam’s face shone bright pink, stained from the chilly wind. Hanai held his stiff fingers over my fire, groaning as they warmed.

“What does this say?” Adam turned the can so I could see.

I studied the letters. “No idea.”

“Beef jerky,” Adam said.

“Okay, beef jerky. Sounds great.” My stomach growled.

Adam took three strips of meat from the can and passed it around to the rest of us.

I took mine and smelled it. Lots of salt. I bit off a large piece and chewed. Lots of salt was the understatement of the century. More like more salt than beef. I didn’t care, though, and almost inhaled my three pieces. Even so, I finished last.

Adam removed his cloak. He spread it on the ground, splaying it wide enough for all of us to lie on. He slid to the far edge and lay down. “Isaiah,” he said. “Sleep.”

Isaiah settled next to him, and Hanai looked at me pointedly. I also removed my cloak before lying next to Isaiah. Hanai spread the second cloak over all of us and wriggled underneath. The cloak on the bottom made the ground pillow soft, and the top cloak kept me plenty warm.

The air pressed down. Blazes, I felt trapped again. Sandwiched between two boys. Even though one of them was an old friend, my heart hammered. Hanai touched my shoulder and whispered, “Settle, Gabby. It’s okay.”

But it so wasn’t.

My tension bled out as Hanai pressed gently into my shoulder. I took several calming breaths and rolled onto my side.

Hanai rolled too, and now he faced me. “I’m cold.”

“We all are,” Adam growled. “Except the Firemaker.”

A spark of irritation flared inside. Like it was my fault I didn’t feel the cold the way he did. I traced my fingertip along the hem of the magic cloak. It smoked but didn’t catch the flame. My heat infused it, turning the cloak into a heated blanket.

“Thank you, Gabbers,” Isaiah said, his voice heavy with sleep.

I smiled in the dark as Hanai sighed.

So there, I couldn’t help thinking, wishing Adam could hear my thoughts.

His soft chuckle lingered in my ears as I fell asleep.

When I woke up, my face was pressed into Isaiah’s chest. He held me like a lover, his breath cascading over my neck. Hanai was nestled right up behind me, his left arm draped around my waist.

I stiffened as I sucked in a breath.

Adam chuckled. “Looks cozy.”

I couldn’t move, though I desperately wanted to. Isaiah’s arm weighed as much as my whole body. As I struggled, Hanai snuggled closer.

“I’ll help,” Adam said. “Hanai, wake up, man. Time to go.” He nudged Hanai with his boot. Hanai groaned and mumbled something rude. His grip on my body tightened.

“Sorry, I tried.” Adam laughed again, moving away.

I maneuvered my hands up to Isaiah’s chest. I pushed as hard as I could, infusing my hands with heat. He moaned and rolled onto his back. That allowed me to slip out from under his arm. As I did, I felt the cloak. Ice cold. No wonder they had latched onto me.

I poured more heat into it and found Adam in the corner, stuffing cans into his backpack. He shifted away from me as I sat next to him, blowing on his fingers, his breath fogging in front of us.

“I can help.” I traced my pointer finger down the zipper of his coat. The metal blazed with warmth. Though I didn’t see Adam smile, I felt the heat of it in my face.

I didn’t think I could survive another night of trudging through the snow. When I told Adam, he agreed.

“Plus, we’re leaving tracks,” I said. “Felix and Alex won’t have any trouble finding us.”

“They’re not looking.”

“What?”

“They’ll just head to Gregorio. They know that’s where we’ll go. They know that’s where the rogue Elementals are hiding.”

“How do they know that?”

“They downloaded everything I knew. It’s not like I wanted to tell them.” His voice carried that annoying sentry tone.

“Of course not.” Mine sounded forced. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

Adam exhaled, and I couldn’t read his eyes in the fading twilight. “Well, we need your friend Cat. Real bad. With her, we’ll have a full Council. Alex won’t be able to touch us without major consequences if we complete the chartering.”

“Alex is crazy,” I said. “No way she’ll approve our Council.” I didn’t like the way the words sounded coming out, but I knew they were true.

“Doesn’t matter,” Adam said. “She doesn’t get to approve the magical bond. She might never give us an apprenticeship or a city, but at least we’ll be alive.”

“We’ll have each other,” I murmured.

“We can protect each other,” Adam added.

I studied him and found as much earnest desperation in his expression as I felt coursing through my body. “So we try to get Councilman Davison to charter the Council.”

“With things as politically unstable as they are in Gregorio, anything is possible,” Adam said. “Maybe we can sneak in and complete the charter without anyone knowing.”

I thought about that for a minute, wanting to act my part but not knowing how. “Yeah, but Alex and Felix are probably already there, telling Davison how awful I am.” A flicker of fear made my breath catch. “Or looking for Cat.” I hoped she was still alive, that we’d find her in Gregorio first. She was smart; she’d know how to lie low until Isaiah came for her.

“Nah. Gregorio is far,” Adam said. “At least a couple of days by vehicle. It took me nine days to get to the Outcast settlement on foot.”

“I knew you’d been there before,” I said, interested in hearing the story of how he found the Outcast settlement.

Adam laughed softly. He fumbled for my hand. He wore gloves, protecting his skin from mine. I was surprised at the snag of disappointment I felt that I couldn’t press my skin to his. I shifted closer to him as he moved toward me.

“Yeah, I was almost dead the first time Chief Tavar found me. I hadn’t eaten for three days.”

“Really? Three days?” My stomach recoiled at the thought.

“Yeah. What about you? You said you’d tell me how you ended up in Forrester when we weren’t seconds from dying. I think we’ve got a couple of hours at least.”

I sighed. The selection ceremony, the fire, Jarvis, the escape, the knives, hiding in the warehouse, and cutting my hair were unhappy memories. Things I’d rather forget.

Adam inhaled the scent of my hair. “You don’t have to tell me,” he murmured.

With those words, I wanted him to know. So I told him about the fire I was accused of setting in Crylon. How Jarvis had known about my Element. About throwing the can of soup at Patches, stealing his knives, and vomiting in the street.

As I spoke, the weight of my life lightened, and Adam now shared some of my burden. With a start, I realized he’d already carved a place in my life—whether I liked it or not.

He rubbed his thumb along my wrist, silent. Then he said, “You’re brave. I’m glad you found me in that clearing.” He placed his hand on my cheek. Slowly and carefully, he pulled me closer. The armor guarding his emotions cracked. His eyes filled with warmth. With pleading. With an edge of fear. He kissed me like his life depended on having his mouth on mine.

He pulled away too soon. “So you are my girl,” he whispered. “I was worried when I saw you in Isaiah’s arms.”

I smiled despite the fire raging just beneath my skin. I brushed my fingers through his hair, trying to find the courage to speak. For the blazes, I couldn’t.

He chuckled, sending a vibration through my chest. “You never tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” I said. At least nothing I could say out loud. To a guy.

“Right.” Adam trailed one gloved finger over my jaw. “Here’s something I’m thinking: Kissing you hurts like hell. But it’s sure worth it.”

I giggled, mortified at the girly sound coming from my mouth. But it sounded better than anything I could’ve said. Sudden worry seized me. What if I wasn’t good at kissing?

Halfway through my analysis of how Adam pressed his lips to mine, how they moved, he squeezed my shoulder. “Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I choked on a breath, trying to reel my thoughts into normalcy again. “Um, I’m sorry it hurts. I like—” I clamped my mouth shut, thankful for the deepening darkness that hid the blush creeping into my cheeks.

Adam rubbed my upper arm. “Don’t worry about it. If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t.”

So maybe I was doing it right. He certainly was.

The silence sounded loud, the memory of his lips on mine still fresh. His steady breathing next to me, the pressure of his fingers on my bicep, reminded me how close we were. I wanted to kiss him again, yet it terrified me at the same time.

Isaiah yelled in his sleep, and Adam slid away. I leaned against the wall with my eyes closed.

“Sorry.” The weight of Adam’s gaze penetrated the near-darkness. He moved close enough that I smelled the warmth of his skin. “I’ve never felt anything like what I feel with you. The rush—or the pain. When I’m with you, when I touch you, it hurts. When I’m not, I feel like I’m dying.” We were so close, I heard him swallow. “I’m yours, as long as you want me.”

A million emotions exploded inside. First: Relief. He wanted me. He was mine. To kiss, to consult with, to charter a Council with.

Second: Happiness. He wanted me.

I leaned forward, touching my mouth to his. My blood turned to lava. Especially when he moaned, “Gabby—”

“Boulders and landslides,” Isaiah swore. “I’m glad I’m blind. Are you guys decent? Hanai?”

“He’s out cold,” Adam said, standing up. “And we’re more than decent.”

The fire inside died with his distance. Still, a smile stole across my face. Interrupted or not, kissing Adam was amazing.

“Hanai wasn’t kidding when he said you had it bad for her.”

“Can it, Isaiah,” Adam said.

Isaiah sat up and stretched. He made an inhuman noise that echoed through the underground cavern. He looked like he was yawning but he sounded like he was dying a slow and painful death. I clapped my hand over my ears as the sound intensified in pitch.

Adam started chewing Isaiah out for being so obnoxious, but I couldn’t look away from Hanai.

He hadn’t moved, even with the ruckus around him. I knelt at his side, pressing my fingers to his neck. His pulse felt thready and weak. I closed my eyes and willed my therma-vision to kick in. What I got: A miracle.

When I scanned Hanai, his body temperature registered way too low. I pulled off the useless cloak and placed both hands flat against his chest. I engulfed him with heat until his body glowed bright red.

“Adam,” I called over my shoulder. “He’s freezing and barely breathing.”

“I don’t have any medicine,” Adam said, kneeling next to me. “Isaiah, do you?”

“Nope.”

I met Adam’s worried gaze before I shook Hanai. “Wake up, Hanai. I need you.” My voice cracked on the last word.

The last of the daylight disappeared as I struggled to keep the tears from falling. Adam shook Hanai a little harder. Just then, I sensed the smoke. It was hot, hot, hot, filling my entire being with foggy goodness.

Status: Moving fast.

“Guys,” I said. “I’ve got an idea, but we gotta move. Adam, try to wake him up. Isaiah, help me pack.”

Adam rolled Hanai off the cloak and threw it to Isaiah. “What’s up, Gabby?”

“A train,” I said. “Heading south—and fast. We need to be on it.” I shoved the other cloak in the backpack and helped Isaiah put it on. He widened the hole in the ceiling and rode a wave of earth to the surface.

He brought me up next, and it was strange to feel something so solid shift underneath me. I steadied myself on my hands and knees, willing myself not to throw up. By the time I had control of my stomach, Hanai was moaning next to me.

“Hanai?” I put my hand to his forehead in a motherly action.

“He’s barely awake,” Adam said.

“Right. You two help him. This way.” I strode toward a vast expanse of flat land. Adam kept a stream of encouragement going. Hanai coughed several times and then groaned.

I scanned for the train. The smoke teased my soul, but I couldn’t see it.

“There,” Isaiah said, pointing to the right. It was freaky that a blind guy could spot the train before me.

But there it was. The black steam engine crested a gentle rise in the plain, the puffs of smoke pouring into the chilly night air.

“Come on, guys. It’s not stopping for us.”

“It’s moving fast,” Isaiah said. “How are you planning to get on?”

I grabbed his hand. “Run and jump. You’re with me. Adam, can you manage with Hanai?”

“Gabby, I don’t—”

I spun around, my Element shooting to my fingertips. Hanai, pale and panting, leaned heavily on Adam. Neither one of them looked like they could run, let alone hop on a moving train.

“This is the fastest way to Gregorio. I’m not tromping through the snow eating salty garbage for the next nine days. Let’s go. Now.” Without waiting for an answer, I turned and started running, thankful Chief Tavar had healed my feet.

Isaiah matched my pace, and the footsteps of Adam and Hanai pounded behind me.

“I’ll tell you when to jump, okay?”

“Most excellent.”

“Just straight,” I said. The train barreled closer. It stretched on and on, the coal-colored cars streaking into the night.

“Gabbers—”

“Keep going,” I shouted. “Straight.”

The engine roared by us, and we were still at least fifty yards away. I ran faster, sending steam to clear a path in the snow.

“Adam?”

“Right behind you,” he answered.

Problem: The car doors were all shut. I scanned the train, desperation choking me at all the closed cars. Finally, I saw a rusty boxcar with the side open.

“Slight right.” I changed my straight course so we could intercept the open car at full speed. “Twenty feet,” I gasped out.

Isaiah flung his arm out, and a series of steps formed in the earth. We took them side-by-side, two at a time, and I screamed, “Jump!” I pushed off with my right foot at the same time Isaiah launched himself off his left.

I might as well have been blind.

See, I’d timed the jump wrong.

All—

—wrong.

I envisioned myself falling under the train.

The deadly kiss of steel.

The crushing pain as my ribs snapped.

A blazing inferno ripping through my muscles as my Element leaked into oblivion.

Then a strong wind—an Elemental wind—slammed into me, propelling me forward. I lost my grip on Isaiah’s hand as we crashed onto the floor of the boxcar.

I rolled, hitting my elbow and head on the far wall. I sat up just as Adam landed silently on his feet inside the compartment. He sent his wind away as he lowered Hanai to the floor and bent over him.

“Elementals,” someone whispered.

I jumped to my feet, straightening my clothes to cover all the offending parts. Isaiah stood, and we edged closer to Adam and Hanai. It smelled like moldy straw and rotting flesh. I inhaled through my mouth to calm my stomach.

I wanted to light my hands to see how many strangers we were dealing with, but I didn’t.

“Elementals. Help,” another voice said.

Adam stood up. “We’ll help anyone we can. But first we need some medicine for our…Firemaker. Does anyone happen to have aspirin?”

I stared at him, too shocked to speak. Inside I was screaming I’m the Firemaker! Adam looked everywhere but at me.

“I do,” a raspy voice said. As Adam moved past me he hissed, “Play along.” He collected the medicine and knelt next to Hanai.

“We need a corner for him to rest,” Adam said. “Like I said, we’ll help you, but he needs a few minutes to recover.”

Some scuffling followed, and we moved into the corner of the car with the door immediately to our left. The confining steel walls constricted the air entering my lungs, and I wished Adam would call on his Element again to save me. He’d done a brilliant job of guiding us into the train with his air.

“Firemaker?” I hissed without moving my lips as Adam laid Hanai in my lap.

“If I said he was our Unmanifested, we wouldn’t have gotten the medicine,” Adam whispered. “They’d let him die, hoping we’d choose one of them instead. Trust me, it’s better if they think he’s our lead man.”

“Adam’s right,” Isaiah murmured.

Adam was always right. I stroked Hanai’s hair, pleading silently for him to wake up. By the time he stirred, my butt was numb and my bones felt spongy from the constant vibrating of the train.

“Give him this,” Adam said, shoving a bottle into my hands. Isaiah helped me prop Hanai up. He moaned as I poured the water into his mouth. I pressed one hand to his forehead.

Status: Too hot. I absorbed the fever, relishing his familiar heat.

A minute later, he said, “Why’s it so dark?”

Adam exhaled, and my relief-filled sigh joined his.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Isaiah murmured.

“Gabe helped you,” Adam whispered, his mouth barely moving.

I cleared my throat. Boys did that, right?

“Thanks,” Hanai said, playing along. He slipped his hand into mine, squeezing as I helped him sit up.

Adam broke the tense silence by unzipping the backpack and passing around a package of crackers. After we’d each had several, Adam moved around the boxcar. I sat in the darkness with my hand in Hanai’s, afraid to let go. So un-guy like. But Hanai didn’t pull away either.

“There are seven others here.” Adam leaned down to whisper in my ear. “They’re cold. Act sick, but warm it up in here. I took some items from that house that we can distribute so we can gain their trust. See if we can get them to talk to us.”

I didn’t know what he’d taken, but I stood up and took a second to find my balance, hoping that would be enough to fool the passengers into thinking I’d been the one who was sick. Once in the center of the car, I ignited both hands. But I let the sparks filter out, hoping to appear weak. It wasn’t that big of an act. See, I felt like throwing up. The rotten smell, the lurching car, Hanai’s illness….

I swallowed, thinking the smell wouldn’t be improved if I spewed crackers everywhere.

Two people moved forward and pulled on my pant leg. I crouched down and found they had brought a steel box with them.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“Burlap sacks,” a man answered.

“Do they burn?”

No one spoke. Stupid, stupid question, I thought. See, a trained Firemaker should know the flammability of all materials. Seemed like Jarvis had mentioned that he’d learned such things once.

“I’ve never tried burlap,” I said, my voice shaky. “Now cotton, that smokes a lot. As for denim—”

“Just try it, man,” Adam said as he joined me. “I’m freezing.”

I clapped over the box, dripping flames into the brown bags. They caught fire quickly, sparking and smoking. One deep lungful was all I needed to settle my nerves.

“Let’s move it away from the door,” I suggested. “We don’t want to alert anyone.”

Adam helped the two men drag the burning bags over to our end of the boxcar. I settled in between Hanai and Isaiah, desperate to grab Hanai’s hand again, needing his comforting energy. But with the firelight, I couldn’t. The other seven passengers left their places and settled around the fire.

Most of them looked how I imagined we did. Dirty, pinched faces with hollow eyes and sunken cheeks. Two women huddled with one of the men who’d helped with the sacks. The other stowaways seemed to be traveling alone.

Instead of sitting with us, Adam sat by an older gentleman whose rotten teeth made me grimace. He spoke with Adam for a few minutes, his gravelly voice buzzing above the crackling flames. Adam smiled, his face radiant in the firelight. “Guys, this man needs one of our coats.”

I fished out a blue jacket from our backpack and handed it to the man. A trickle of tears leaked over his face as he pulled it on. “Thank you,” he said. I could only smile in return.

Adam slid over and began talking with another man. I joined him, hoping I wouldn’t actually have to say anything. This guy already owned a coat—and a hat. He looked clean-cut. Well-fed. Adam asked him where he was from.

He eyed us warily for a moment before Adam said, “We’re just here to help.”

The man relaxed as he exhaled. “I came from Winston. There’s been some unrest there.” He leaned forward, his eyes bright in the firelight. “Unmanifested unrest. The Supremist burned Crylon to the ground, and most people in Winston think we might be next, our Councilman being the same and all.”

I still didn’t know when the Supremist had set Crylon on fire. I had never seen a stitch of smoke on my trek across the wilderness. I knew my mouth hung open and my eyes were too wide, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know Councilman Ferguson ruled Unmanifested villages.

“I left to find work,” the man continued. “My wife and twin sons are hiding underground until I come back.”

“I think we’ve got something that’ll help your family,” Adam said, gesturing for me to get something from our pack. His expression was friendly, but I recognized the current of unease just beneath the surface. I understood where it stemmed from: the Unmanifested rebellion in Winston.

I returned to the backpack and dug around in the front pocket. I found gold chains and rings with blood red stones. I pulled out a heavy chain with a brilliant blue jewel hanging from it. When I handed it to the man, he simply stared.

Adam clapped him on the shoulder, and we turned toward the man and two women. They looked like sisters, but the man didn’t look like either one of them. Adam asked them where they were from, and the man answered, “We escaped Crylon.”
“Ah, not far then,” Adam said without missing a beat. I, however, struggled to keep from choking on my own breath.

He looked at Adam and then me. “The Supremist came,” the man whispered, as if simply saying her title might summon her to the train. “She buried the Elemental school under a mountain before setting the communes and agricultural center on fire. We’re some of the lucky ones. There are a few more in the cars behind us.”

“She?” I blurted out.

The man nodded, his expression somber. “The Supremist is a woman. The United Territories might fall.”

“How do you know she’s a woman?” I asked.

“Councilman Ferguson told us,” he said simply, as if Councilmen couldn’t lie.

“Why do you think the Territories might fall?” Adam asked, shifting so that his elbow bumped my arm. Translation: Drop it.

The man exchanged a glance with one of the women. She nodded at him, a clear encouragement for him to confess all. “Councilman Ferguson said the Supremist has instated new educational laws that prevent everyone from learning to read except Firemakers. She’s also been refusing to approve Councils for diplomacy training in Tarpulin. When he discovered she was destroying schools, he said several Councilmen withdrew their political support, him included.”

I frowned; I hadn’t heard any rumors of the Supremist’s new educational laws. Of course, I’d put in my petition to learn to read and write three months ago, and it still hadn’t been approved.

“In his last address to us before the fire started, he said that she’d be coming to destroy the city. He urged us all to go underground, or get out of the city if we could. He said she wouldn’t allow the Councilmen to unite, that if they did, their combined Elemental powers would be strong enough to overthrow her. He said she’d never allow a Councilman revolt, that she’d never let them get strong enough to overrule her decisions and take her power.”

The man stared into the flames, where the dancing light caught on a single tear as it slid down his face. “Councilman Ferguson said he was going to try. That he was going to leave Crylon and gather with several Councilmen in the northern region. They were going to try to stand against the Supremist.”

He looked up, and now his face held fierceness. “He left, and we haven’t heard from him again. A day later, the fields were on fire. A week after that, we fled.” He reached for the women’s hands and they linked their fingers through his.

“What can we do to help?” Adam asked.

The man met Adam’s gaze. “Nothing. We gathered food and supplies before we left. We’ll be all right until we reach Gregorio. Our Councilman said there’s a man named Davison there who is leading the revolution against the Supremist. Who knows? Maybe Councilman Ferguson has gone to Gregorio too.”

The woman closest to him stared at me, the lines around her eyes creased with fear. I smiled and followed Adam to the next passenger. He prattled on about the train. It had twelve hoppers in the back, carrying wheat to Gregorio. I gave him a necklace too, thanking him for the medicine he’d given us.

The last man took a pair of shoes after he pointed to the boxes stacked on the opposite end of the boxcar. He said they were filled with food.

I moved across the car with Adam and lit my fingertips. The man from Crylon joined us in the corner. “There’s beans and corn and some stew, I think.”

“Then how come you’re all starving?” I asked, staring at the glinting tin as my fire reflected off it.

“We can’t open the cans.”

Well, what a simple thing to fix. I reached for the knife at my waist.

“Let me,” Adam said, his real message masked beneath the words. You’ll kill yourself with that thing.

He pulled out his sentry knife and sliced off the top of the can. He handed it to the man and opened another. After everyone had a can of beans, Adam tucked two in his jacket pockets. We spent the next several minutes opening the rest of the boxes. They held more burlap sacks. I left everything but the food.

I sat between Hanai and Isaiah again. Hanai lightly touched my knee, a faint smile on his face. We exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. I felt a strange sense of security near him. Adam opened four cans of stew and passed them to me. I heated them and handed them around the circle.

After eating, I felt much better. I leaned my head against the cold steel of the boxcar and closed my eyes, wondering how long a person could survive on salty, canned garbage.

My mind raced around what the man from Crylon had said. His story fit with a string of lessons on uprisings Educator Ostrund had taught me. The Supremist rarely left his—well, her—fortress. No, she sent diplomats first. Sentries, second. If she had to come, the situation was dire.

“So why did the Supremist burn Newton?” Educator Ostrund had sauntered from one side of the chamber to the other.

“Um.” I rubbed my forehead, wishing I could switch places with someone, anyone. “The Councilman wanted to appoint his daughter to….” I tried to remember his lecture from last week.

“Unmanifested,” Educator Ostrund said, frowning. “He wanted his daughter to be his Unmanifested Councilmember.”

“Yes. Unmanifested.”

“And why didn’t the diplomacy work?”

“You didn’t detail the diplomacy, sir.”

“The sentries?” His voice hinted at excitement.

I frowned, thinking back to our last session. “There was no mention of sentries.”

“Sir,” he added.

“There was no mention of sentries, sir.” I glanced up to find him loitering only a few inches away. I flinched away from his discolored teeth and rancid breath.

“And what can we learn from this, Gabriella?”

I couldn’t remember my answer. What I learned: The Supremist could do whatever he wanted. Whenever he wanted. Diplomacy be burned.

And right now, the Supremist wanted me dead, Elementals uneducated, and Councilmen to be submissive. I could only hope that the Councilmen had managed to combine their powers, that they could do something together to overthrow the Supremist that they couldn’t do alone. Suddenly, the fragmentation of information and the distance between cities in the United Territories made much more sense.

Segregating everyone and allowing Elementals to function as royalty gave the Supremist power over everyone. She controlled what they knew, where they lived, who they came in contact with. And none of them could combine what they knew or what they could do so they could get more power than her.

But now that they have…. I didn’t finish the thought, because I didn’t know how. I couldn’t predict what might happen next.

My back ached and my tailbone throbbed from the continual grinding of the train and the constant reminder that I wasn’t safe. Adam and Hanai had gone to sleep. Isaiah seemed content with the silence, so I suffered with my own thoughts. They ran in circles, around and around my situation. Around how I would ever find Cat in a city of thousands. Around how I was going to survive with the Supremist tracking me. Around what I might find in Gregorio.

Two days and three nights passed before the train slowed. Hanai had recovered from his sickness. The gray light of dawn streaked the sky when the rhythm of the train changed.

I glanced at Adam as he stood. After tapping Isaiah on the shoulder, I got up too. My legs and back were stiff, but the rest had been good for them.

Adam pulled on his gloves and shouldered the backpack. Hanai’s hand brushed mine for a brief moment, a mere whisper of touch. At least he was as nervous as I was. The other stowaways moved toward the open side of the boxcar, jumping out one by one until they had all evacuated.

“Are we jumping too?” I asked, eyeing the opening. My feet itched to flee before we got caught.

Before any of us could move, the train shuddered to a stop. We slid behind the cardboard boxes as shouts and metallic gongs echoed just beyond the open door of the boxcar.

“We’ll have to go up,” Adam whispered as two heads poked into our car. He shoved Hanai toward the sliding door on our side, but held up his hand for him to wait.

“Nothing but supplies,” a voice said.

Adam motioned for Hanai to open the door. He moved it enough to squeeze his body through, and then looked left and right.

Every second I stayed in the boxcar felt like it would suffocate me. Each breath became an opportunity for Felix to leap into the car and hold a knife to my throat. Just beyond my sight, I heard two male voices asking questions. My blood ran cold at the words.

“…Elementals. Have you seen any?”

A long pause followed. I exchanged a glance with Adam, who had heard the question too. I held my breath and balled my fingers into fists. I didn’t know who was being questioned, or what they might say. Finally a man spoke. “No, sir. We were the last on and saw no one Elemental.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as the guard moved on to another, non-Elemental question.

“We’ll have to slide to the end. There’s a ladder,” Hanai whispered, poking his head back inside. “There’s a track the door slides on.” He swung himself out of the boxcar and disappeared.

Adam motioned for me to go next. Through the gap, I saw nothing but fields. We’d stopped outside the city, and to my left, a long warehouse stretched toward the wall. A few guards—sentries?—hurried toward it.

“This way,” Hanai hissed, drawing my attention back to the task at hand. The track he’d mentioned was only two inches wide and didn’t extend all the way to the ladder. Hanai clung to a rung halfway up, leaning toward me with his hand outstretched.

I edged out of the boxcar and adjusted my foot along the track. I pressed into the boxcar, clinging to the slats to keep myself from falling. I inched along, aware that Adam and Isaiah were waiting for me. With only two feet to go, I slipped.

My heart leaped to my throat, and I stifled a curse. My fingers scrabbled for hold and found it on a crooked corner of wood. I paused, breathing hard and leaning into the car as much as possible.

“Just a little further,” Hanai said.

The track beneath my feet shifted as someone joined me. I didn’t turn my head to look, pressed as I was into the boxcar. I shuffled, shuffled and then threw my hand toward Hanai’s. He grabbed me, providing some steadiness, and I jumped toward the ladder.

“I hate this,” I muttered to myself as Hanai pulled his legs onto the roof. I followed him up the ladder, and only had to jump a few inches to reach the top, where I hauled myself up.

Breathing hard, I managed to calm my pulse as I flattened myself next to Hanai, whose normally bronze face had turned pale. “I’m not feeling as good as I thought,” he said. I knew exactly what he meant, and I hadn’t been sick for days.

When Adam and Isaiah joined us, we slithered toward the end of the car. Hanai balanced on the balls of his feet and stepped across the gap between boxcars. I followed him, lying down and shimmying forward again.

The steel beneath my hands felt like ice, cold and slippery. I tried to keep my breath from billowing out in white clouds, but it was impossible.

We formed a single-file line, stomach-crawling and then stepping across gaps until the train lurched forward again. I fell hard, tasting blood when my chin hit the metal. I stifled a whimper and a curse and kept moving as the train eased into the warehouse. I followed Hanai across three more boxcars, feeling a sense of dread the further into the building we went.

“No more cars,” Adam said.

I peered over his shoulder. The next car had no roof. Instead, a heaping pile of wheat filled the hopper.

“In we go,” Adam said, sounding every bit as tired as I felt. “Wheat, Isaiah. Go through, man.” He stepped into the grain and started to wade across the car. He pushed the kernels to the sides with his arms, literally swimming through.

Isaiah stepped off next, sinking to his waist as the kernels slid to the side to make room for him. When he was halfway across, Hanai muttered, “Magic alive,” and plunged into the hopper. He struggled there for a few heartbeats before gaining forward momentum, scooping the wheat out of his way with cupped hands.

I perched on the lip of the car, placing my feet on the kernels to test stability. They shifted, but held. Instead of jumping in with both feet—like a blazing boy—I knelt, slowly. The grain groaned, but didn’t swallow me up to my waist.

I looked up to see Adam watching me, a strange glint—respect, maybe?—in his eyes. I crawled across the sea of gold without getting so much as a single kernel in my shoes.

“Atta girl,” Adam murmured. He turned. “Crawl, Isaiah. Then we don’t have to swim.”

“Most excellent, Gabbers.”

We must’ve looked like ants crawling over a golden picnic blanket. Still, after seven hoppers, I’d had enough.

“Can’t we get down?” I asked, eyeing the ladder on the end of the car.

“Too many eyes,” Adam whispered, following Hanai and Isaiah into yet another mass of wheat.

“Where are we going anyway?” My arms burned and my eyes felt like I’d rubbed sand in them.

Adam turned back to answer, but someone spoke before he could.

“She’s here. Alex can feel the girl’s power.”

“I don’t see how, Felix,” a man argued. “The guards said none of the passengers reported anything. All the cars were searched. There was no one Elemental.”

I flattened myself on top of the wheat, alone with only the pounding of my pulse.

“Search the boxcars again. Unload this wheat while I find the foreman. She’s here,” Felix said. Heavy footsteps moved away, and I was thankful Felix would never lower himself enough to unload a train.

A beep sounded and a mechanical voice said, “Backing up.” In the next moment, the train lurched into motion.

“More…a little more,” the man said, his voice coming from directly behind me now. The train stopped, but I didn’t dare move. A loud clanking noise echoed through the murky building. I clapped my hands over my ears and still the screeching didn’t fade.

More footsteps. Another clanking shriek. This time, I heard a faint rushing, like water falling over a slope.

More footsteps, then another metallic banshee was released. The noise grew louder, more pronounced. I heard the pinging of the wheat on something metal. I figured out what was happening just as the footsteps stopped.

I reached for the lip of the hopper as the deafening clank sounded. I missed the edge and slid further into the wheat. It buried me as it rushed out of the bottom of the car.

Life inside the hopper: No air, no sound, no time. Only darkness and wheat—tons and tons of wheat.

In my ears.

My shirt.

My nose.

I broke the surface of the wheat, gasping for breath. Sand-like particles filled my lungs and stung my eyes. I scrambled, desperate to go up instead of down. The walls of the car sloped inward. The kernels rushed down, taking me with them. They banked in the center of the hopper, sliding away quicker on the two ends. I determined that there were two slots, maybe long enough to fit someone my height. No way Isaiah would fit his broad shoulders through either one.

I grappled my way through the kernels to the front of the hopper. I had no way of knowing what lay beneath the train, or where the others were, or if Felix had returned with the foreman.

The pinging grew louder. The wheat flowed faster. I covered my face with my hands as the slot became visible.

I banged my elbow as I fell through the bottom of the car. My feet jammed on the middle bar and my shoulders landed on the grate beneath the train as I exited head first. I tasted my own blood again and looked beyond the slats in the grate to find an endless sea of grain in a warehouse under the train tracks.

Wheat rained down on me as I pulled my feet through. I rolled away from the side of the train where Felix had been talking. At least I tried. The flaps of the hopper blocked me and I had to scoot to the middle to slide around them.

Under the train, I could barely lift my head off the metal grate. All I could see: Cement.

I breathed through my nose, the chaff from the wheat lodging in the back of my throat. I gagged and hit my back on the rough underbelly of the train.

I tried to hold back the surge of panic. My fire crept upward in response to my fear. A beep sounded, seemingly next to me. I sucked in a breath and held it.

“I’m just closing the chutes now. Be there in a minute.” The man cranked something, and I clapped my hands over my ears as the deafening squeal of metal on metal screamed six inches above my head.

The flaps clanked shut, and the man moved to the next car. I couldn’t stay under the train forever; it would move soon. Still, I hesitated. What if Felix waited on this side of the train? What if the foreman had an office over here? When the chutes on the next hopper cranked, I rolled out from under the train.

A small table stood nearby, with an empty chair next to it. Beyond that stretched a vacant warehouse. I didn’t see anyone, so I stumbled past the table, heading for a dark doorway to my left. I ducked into the shadows and pressed my back against the wall.

Breathing hard, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Just as I was about to get up, someone called, “Twelve hoppers unloaded, sir.”

“Good,” Felix said. “Search the cars again.” He sounded so bossy, like I’d find him sitting in a chair, delivering commands and expecting them to be followed.

“Hello, Felix,” another man said, his footsteps growing louder and louder.

I dodged behind a desk as he came in. When I sensed the firemaking Element in him, I buried my own spark deep inside, praying he didn’t have the ability to sense it. He moved to the desk and picked something up.

“Rev, you see anyone new in line today?” Felix asked, following the man into the room. The nearness of his voice made me freeze.

“Nobody special,” Rev responded. “You looking for someone specific?”

“A Firemaker. You see one, you send them to me.”

“And you’ll be….”

“Available via radio. Call me immediately if you find a Firemaker—or any Elemental.” Felix marched out, leaving no room for negotiation. Above me, papers rustled and then Rev left the room.

I couldn’t move. The train pulled out, and still I cowered under the desk. Finally, I crept toward the door. The sun had fully risen, and the front of the building blazed with natural light. The rest of the warehouse appeared abandoned, the empty train track running down the center. I strode toward the light, thinking if I could just make it there, I could find somewhere to hide, somewhere to make a plan to find the others. Just as I stepped into the sunlight, someone spoke.

“Are you here for day work?” The voice: Felix’s.

I stopped, nearly tripping over the air. Without turning around I said, “Yes, sir.” The sound scratched in my throat. I suppressed the cough threatening to explode out. I pulled my hood up.

He stepped in front of me, the weight of his stare heavy. I didn’t dare move around him, but I didn’t want him scrutinizing me either. I kept my eyes trained on the ground. Finally, he said, “Go to your left and around the orchard until you see a man wearing a blue hat. Hurry up, or the jobs will be gone.”

I didn’t give him any more time to discover who I was. “Thank you, sir.” I forced myself to walk to the corner of the building.

Then I ran. I didn’t go around the orchard, but directly into it. See, I needed to find my Council. My stomach rumbled. Finding food and staying alive also topped my list.

Once in the thick of the orchard, I felt safe enough to stop. I climbed a tree, plucking an unripe apple on the way up. As I gnawed through it, I scanned my surroundings. The man in the blue hat stood on the edge of the trees. Every few seconds he’d point into the orchard and two people would tromp forward. By the time I finished my almost-apple, the line of day-workers had dwindled. I hadn’t seen anyone from my Council.

Beyond the orchard, a dirt road led into the city. Buildings towered. Houses squatted. Smoke rose from chimneys. The street leading into Gregorio lay empty. Morning sunlight highlighted the dust particles hanging in the air.

My presence on the road would be noticed.

Best thing to do: Wait for quitting time and join the day workers when they headed back into the city. Beyond that, I couldn’t think. If Hanai and Isaiah had stayed with Adam, he’d find them somewhere safe to lay low. I had no idea where Cat might be, if she was still here in Gregorio or not.

I leaned into the branches of the apple tree. I closed my eyes as my thoughts chased each other, over and around the conversations on the train, who might’ve started the fire at school, where Cat might be, and what Felix meant by Alex can feel the girl.

I could only come up with one explanation: She knew. The Supremist could sense Firemakers and she knew I was a female Firemaker. I wondered how long she’d known. Long enough to frame me for arson? How far would she go to exterminate me? How much time did she have before a revolution began?

A haunting melody floated on the wind, interrupting my circulating questions. The music called on the water, urging it to douse the leaves in the trees.

I smiled. Such a beautiful song. I opened my eyes just as a spray of liquid rained down. I sputtered, wiping the Elemental-influenced water out of my eyes.

The song began again, just to my left. I almost fell out of the tree when I saw the singer. Her once-golden hair hung in strings. Her once-full cheeks looked waxy and pale. Her blue eyes had lost their life, but beauty still clung to her eyelashes, to her cheekbones, to her delicate footfalls. She wore little more than rags, her once-purple dress mangy and ripped.

A Watermaiden. Not Cat, but maybe she could tell me where to find my friend.

At the sound of her voice, water bubbled from the ground, flooding around the trunk of the tree. She smiled as she sang, and a microburst of droplets exploded in the budding branches.

Halfway through her next melody, I dropped to the ground. She cut off mid-note and turned to look at me.

I deliberately stood with my feet shoulder-width apart, trying to remember what Adam did with his hands. How Hanai radiated that power from his shoulders. Nothing came. Being a boy was blazing hard work.

The Watermaiden stood with both feet tucked neatly together—the way I usually did—and a glint of fear in her expression.

I held up both hands so she’d know I meant her no harm, then offered her a green apple. She eyed it with the gaze of someone who hadn’t eaten for a while. She licked her full lips before looking back at me.

“You’re not supposed to pick the fruit,” she said.

“Well, you’re not supposed to use your Element for profit.”

Her rosy cheeks paled. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “What are you going to do about it?”

I took a step forward. “Nothing.”

She studied me, a thoughtful expression on her face. I smiled, trying to ease the fear out of her eyes. “I need your help,” I said.

She folded her arms. “My help?”

“Yes.” I snapped my fingers, and a tiny flame erupted along my thumb and forefinger. “I’m looking for a Watermaiden. A girl by the name of Cat.”

“Cat?”

The way she said the name with so much familiarity made my heart jump. I held out the apple, positively grinning. “Yes, Cat. Do you know her?”

The girl looked over her shoulder, as if Cat might materialize right there in the orchard. I glanced around too, suddenly realizing that indeed, Cat might be here.

“How do you know her?” the Watermaiden asked.

“She’s a friend of mine from Crylon.”

That seemed to erase any doubts the Watermaiden had. “She’s here somewhere. Sometimes we get assigned the same section, but I was late today.”

“But she’s here. In this orchard.” I studied the fruit trees surrounding me, desperate to hear Cat’s voice, see her face.

“She’s here,” the Watermaiden confirmed.

“Thank you,” I said, barely refraining from hugging the girl. I didn’t think a boy would do that to a complete stranger. I started down a line of trees.

“This is a big orchard,” the girl called. “You might not find her.”

“I’ll find her,” I said over my shoulder, determination landing in every footstep.

Hours later, I hadn’t found her. The lunch bell had rung a long time ago, and the sun was dipping lower with every step I took. I couldn’t decide if I’d searched this part of the orchard yet, and with Cat moving too, I had no way of locating her.

I’d encountered only four people in my search, and none of them knew a Cat. I didn’t dare reveal that she was a Watermaiden, and I’d moved on quickly after each visit.

I’d climbed at least a dozen trees, searching for people from above. I set my hands and feet on another trunk and balanced in the branches as I looked for any movement.

Nothing.

Tired and hungry, I slumped in the nook where branch met trunk and pressed my eyes closed. My chest shuddered with the first inklings of my desperation. But I would not allow myself to dissolve into tears.

I dropped to the ground and brushed off my pants. I looked up into the eyes of a tall man. “Hello,” I said.

“Hello,” he said.

“I’m looking for someone,” I said, edging around the tree as the man stepped closer. He blinked, causing me to focus on his eyes. Something wasn’t right with them. The brown color felt too light, and hinted at a shade of unnatural orange.

“Someone who?” he asked, bending over and rustling through the undergrowth in the orchard. I flinched when he brought his arm up, only to find him holding a hose. Water drizzled from the end and he held it closer to the tree.

“A girl,” I said.

“Seen lots of girls.” The man stepped to the next tree, stretching the hose as he went.

I breathed easier with him a few paces away. “This one will be wearing a dress. Long, dark hair.”

He didn’t look at me as he worked. “Seen someone like her in the north tenth.”

“Which way is north?” I asked.

He pointed over his shoulder, back in the direction I’d come. “Thank you,” I said as I sprinted away. The man said something I didn’t hear, but I didn’t care.

As I ran, people moved in front of me, all heading toward the center of the orchard. It must be time to go home. I pushed my legs faster, hoping to arrive before Cat joined the crowd and got lost again.

Several yards in front of me, a girl passed through the trees. Her long, dark hair streamed from a ponytail. Her clothes hung in tatters, her once-green dress dirty and torn along the shoulder. She wore no shoes and no coat. She must have been freezing.

“Cat!” I called.

Miraculously, the girl stalled, swinging her head toward me. Her round cheeks and penetrating brown eyes held beauty that I knew matched the loveliness of her voice. I stopped a few feet from her, my chest heaving and a smile stretching my face.

“Cat,” I repeated. My heart leaped to my throat at the sight of her.

She glanced around, nothing but naked fear residing in her eyes. She shook her head and backed away slowly.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She stopped, her eyes filled with tears. “How do you know my name?”

“You know my name too,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. After careful scrutiny of my face and body, her eyes widened. “No.” She pressed one hand over her mouth.

“Yes.” I held my hand up, palm forward and let my fire race between my fingers.

Her eyes grew wider. “Gabby?”

Somehow, the hole she’d left inside had been instantly filled when she spoke my name. I nodded, tears filling my own eyes.

She flung herself at me and gripped me in a fierce hug. “What are you doing here?” She stepped back and ran her hands over my head. “What happened to your hair? And how are you a Firemaker?”

I shrugged, unable to explain my genetic abnormality.

“Where’s Jarvis?” she asked.

“Where’s Isaiah?” I countered.

Cat smiled, but it held a sadness I’d felt before. The kind that lingered in my soul when Educator Graham disappeared. When Patches cut me out of his life. When Jarvis kissed me but didn’t choose me for his Council.

A fountain of water bubbled in her palm. “I wrote to Isaiah in Tarpulin last week. I haven’t heard from him yet. I hope he survived.”

“Survived?”

She flipped her hand over, and water cascaded to the ground. “Word in the underground is that Davison sent for any willing Councilmen to come to Gregorio. They were going to hold a council to find out what they could do with their combined powers, what manpower they each could provide for an attack on Tarpulin, and to discuss new policies going forward.” She sighed in a very defeated way.

“About a week ago, Councilman Davison declared open war on Tarpulin. He sent sentries to evict Alex. No one’s seen him or heard from him since.”

The way she spat out the Supremist’s name didn’t go unnoticed. I studied her round face. “What about the other Councilmen? Are they still here?”

“I haven’t seen anyone. The streets are overrun with thugs. The only sentries that are visible are from Tarpulin—and they’re best avoided.” She wandered a few feet away, looking through the orchard. “It’s like they’ve deserted us.”

“But surely they haven’t,” I said. “Maybe they’ve just gone underground.”

“Maybe,” Cat conceded. “Alex is ruthless. She’ll stop at nothing to protect herself and keep her appointment.” Cat brushed her hands together, as if she were dusting off the unpleasant topic. “So you’ve seen Isaiah? Talked to him?”

“Yeah, he’s here.” I frowned. “But I thought he was on that Council with you. Why did he have to try out for another Council?”

“Alex ordered the execution of our entire Council when our Firemaker wouldn’t use his Element to murder innocent Unmanifested government leaders. Rebellions have been springing up in the near villages for the past fifteen months. She sends sentries or goes herself to eliminate the dissenters. Did you know she’s a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Word is spreading all over the Territories.” Cat focused on her hands, wringing them around each other. “She’s killed a lot of people,” Cat finally continued. “She sent sentries to kill our Firemaker, but the rest of us were spared. One of the negotiated points was that we all had to register for the Supremist’s Council openings. It’s better to have a Council than to be a rogue Elemental.”

I nodded, taking her hands and squeezing them. “He’s blind, Cat. Did you know?”

“Of course. The Supremist has quite the temper.”

Disgust clawed at my stomach. My fire burned cold.

“Isaiah said it was an accident, but we know it wasn’t. Somehow, Alex took his sight during his trial. I wasn’t there when it happened, as I’d already fled to Cornish.”

My brain needed time to process everything she’d said. First: I wondered how the Supremist could take someone’s sight. That didn’t mesh with any stories or rumors I’d heard.

Second: Cat was an extremely experienced Watermaiden. If she didn’t make it…what kind of talent did the Supremist have at her disposal?

“When I heard of the Elemental uprising in Gregorio, I came here,” Cat said. “Cornish is an Unmanifested village, and I thought maybe the Councilman here would offer sanctuary for displaced Elementals, but I haven’t been able to get in to see him.”

I brushed her hair off her forehead. “I’m so glad I found you. I have a Council. Well, almost. Isaiah found me, and I have an Airmaster and an Unmanifested. With you, we can be a Council. We can charter.” I said it like it was true, but I still didn’t know if it could be. Adam had said Davison might be able to help us charter until the political and civil unrest settled down, but if Cat hadn’t been able to see him…. Maybe not.

She smiled, that glorious smile that could erase time and distance and pain. “Sounds good, Gabby. Sentries from Tarpulin have been pouring into the city to deal with the increasing Elemental unrest, but I haven’t seen Alex yet. The Unmanifested are either underground, have already fled, or are neutral. It’s dangerous.”

“They’re looking for me,” I said. “You know, because I’m a female Firemaker.” I conveniently left out the fire I’d been accused of setting in Crylon. “But if we have a chartered Council, we’ll have that bond that comes from our powers. We can protect each other.”

“We have to find Councilman Davison first. Or someone with Council authority.”

“Right.” We needed to find Adam, Isaiah, and Hanai too. Moments passed with only the wind sighing in the trees. I tried not to feel like the situation was hopeless, but it felt like getting the sky to crack would be easier than finding a Councilman who didn’t want to be found.

“Okay.” I wiped my hand on my disgusting jeans, suddenly feeling the twelve silent months we’d been apart. “My Unmanifested can feel souls. Let’s see if we can help him find us.”

We both stood there like statues. See, I had no blazing clue how to channel my soul into the universe.

“I have to report back or I won’t get my tokens.” Cat stepped to an unwatered tree. I followed along, lost in the peace of Cat’s voice. But it couldn’t completely erase the uneasiness inside. I needed to find some measure of safety before the air would stop suffocating me. Maybe we’d never find Adam, Hanai, or Isaiah. Maybe we should head for another city, and sneak a charter in under Alex’s nose while she was busy dealing with the uprisings here in Gregorio. I swallowed the doubt about whether chartering would happen at all.

I pulled up my hood when Cat led me back to the man in the blue hat. When I buried my Element, I felt the biting wind for the first time that day.

“Any debris?” the man asked. I recognized the voice as that of the foreman, Rev.

Cat shook her head and held out her hand. Rev dropped three tokens into her palm.

I kept my eyes on the ground as I opened my hand. I gasped at the shock of hot metal when the coins landed in my palm.

I looked up, right into another Firemaker’s eyes.

“Cold today,” he said, seeming to gaze into my soul.

“Yeah,” I answered, trying to sound cold and masculine at the same time.

“Be back tomorrow?”

I shrugged, shifting my feet so they weren’t so close together.

Rev stepped closer. It took everything I had not to reach for the knife at my belt.

“Come back tomorrow, Firemaker. I’ll make sure you get the best section.” His eyes burned golden with his Element. “Maybe an extra token for you and your girlfriend.”

I nodded and swallowed hard.

“Have you registered?”

I laughed nervously—it almost escaped as a giggle. I pulled in a deep breath to gain my composure. “Of course I’ve registered.” I watched Cat round the corner without looking back. I wanted to run to catch her. I couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not again.

Rev nodded, and I forced myself to shuffle forward without lifting my feet all the way.

I half-expected a flaming hand to drop on my shoulder and an order to go to some dungeon office where Felix would be waiting with Elemental cancellers. When nothing happened, I shoved the tokens in my pocket and hurried to catch up to Cat. “Hey,” I hissed as I matched her stride. “That was close.”

Cat gripped my forearm, her fingernails digging into my skin. “Did he sense your Element?”

“Yes.” Her tone and wide eyes didn’t offer comfort. “I told him I’d already registered. What does that mean?”

“You ‘register’ with a man named Felix and he says he’s taking names to protect the Elementals. He’s really a—”

“Sentry,” we said together. She gaped at me.

“I’ve met him,” I said. “He works for the—for Alex and his job is to find me.” Saying Alex’s name out loud sounded strange in my mouth.

Cat and I walked along the dirt road until it turned to cement. Dark, industrial buildings crowded close to the street, standing as silent guards.

“Wild tsunamis,” Cat whispered. She gripped my hand as we approached a group of men loitering in a pool of orange light at the corner. Cat held her head high and forced her eyes straight ahead.

“Gotcher self a boyfriend, sugar?” one of them called. I stepped closer to Cat and glared at the man. Two men stood up and moved into the street behind us. I walked faster, but two more blocked the road in front of us.

“You know you can’t pass without paying the toll,” a man said. Greenish bags sagged under his eyes. The man next to him grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

“What’s the toll?” I asked.

“Your tokens…or your body,” Yellow Teeth answered.

I glanced at Cat. No wonder she was so hungry.

“How about you get the blazes out of the way?” I said with as much masculine force as I could muster.

Laughter echoed off the dark buildings. My fire jumped, licking its way along my throat.

“Are you gonna make us?” someone asked. “I think I can take you by myself.”

I thought so too. My heart thumping, I pulled the knife from my waistband. I balanced it the way Adam had taught me as I raised it. The sight of the knife cut off their laughter.

“Move,” I said. “Now. We’re keeping our tokens, and I’m reporting you to Councilman Davison.”

Yellow Teeth and Baggy Eyes backed off the road, their eyes sharp. Cat and I edged by them. When we were safely away, I lowered the knife, grabbed Cat’s hand, and ran.

“Where’d you get that knife?” Cat asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

A whistle sounded behind us, signaling that we were in serious trouble. Everyone recognized the blade of a sentry, and it wasn’t hard to tell I wasn’t sentry material.

Cat cut down an alley between two tall buildings, and I followed. We ducked behind an overflowing dumpster as the most terrifying sound buzzed in my ears.

A sentry vehicle.

“We can’t outrun them,” I panted. “And we’ve gotta change our clothes, and—”

“Psst,” someone hissed from the shadows across the alley. “Get in here.”

I didn’t recognize the hushed voice, and the way Cat whimpered indicated she didn’t either. I edged a little further behind the dumpster, hardly shielding her with my skinny frame.

“Hurry up, Gabbers.”

Severe relief pulled through me as I stood and took Cat with me as I darted across the alley and into a dark doorway. I squeezed my eyes shut, blanketing my senses in absolute blackness. A faint humming filled my head as my therma-vision clicked on. I opened my eyes and saw Isaiah leaning against the doorframe. “Isaiah!” I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

“Hmm, you’re warm,” he whispered. “Who’s with you?”

I stepped back. “I found—”

“Isaiah.” Cat’s voice only shook on the first syllable.

“Cattails,” he breathed. He swept her off her feet, his strong arms engulfing her petite frame.

As I watched him carefully touch her face, feeling every tiny crease, an ember of loneliness swelled inside. He handled her with such gentleness. It made me smile and long for that sweet touch. Educator Graham used to touch my hand that way. I missed her now, as deeply as I ever had.

“Come on, Hanai is upstairs,” Isaiah said. “He sent me down when he felt your soul. Said you were scared. He’s still not doing so great.” He kept hold of Cat and brought her along behind him. A dilapidated room with upturned tables and chairs loomed before me, all in shades of gray. Somehow Isaiah navigated through the mess without stumbling, heading for the stairs behind the bar.

“Where’s Adam?” I asked as we climbed the stairs.

Isaiah hesitated for a half-beat. “He’s not here.”

“Not here?” I echoed, my voice sounding as strange as my head felt. This couldn’t be happening. I had just found Cat, just completed our Council.

“Hanai slept all day, and I didn’t dare leave him to find you or Adam.”

I shuffled down a hallway, unseeing and working hard to keep breathing. Adam was gone. Gone. Not here. In the room, a weak fire burned in the corner with Hanai lying close to the flames.

Isaiah helped Cat to a warm spot by the fire, where she handed him her tokens. “These will get us food. Gabby has some too.”

He took her tokens and collected mine from me. “Where?”

As Cat explained how to find the ration stands, I knelt next to Hanai. I felt strangely protective of him. At the same time, I wanted him to protect me, wrap me in his arms and whisper assurances that we’d be able to charter, that he’d never leave me. Surprised by the strength of my feelings for him, I put a little distance between us.

After Isaiah left, I opened a can of stew, infused it with heat, and forced Cat to eat. She seemed weaker in the firelight. Exhausted. Hanai didn’t look so healthy either. I worried about Cat, but I felt true fear about losing Hanai. For some reason, I couldn’t stomach the thought of being without him.

“Lay down with him,” I told Cat. She didn’t protest. She slid under the cloak and closed her eyes.

With both of them asleep, I felt very alone. The weight of the situation pressed in on me, stealing my ability to breathe. My heart squeezed, squeezed to get the blood to my fingertips.

My stomach growled, and I opened the second to last can of stew. Isaiah could eat the rations he brought back. I finished my meal and leaned against the wall.

My only thought: [  ]

I woke with a start, something burning in my chest. I inhaled deeply, trying to cool the fire. But it refused to die. It screamed Danger!

I sat up and shook Hanai. “Wake up! We gotta go!”

He sat straight up. “What?”

“Fire. Hot. Bad. Wake Cat up and put the cloak on her. I’ll get the backpack.” I pulled the remaining flames from the makeshift fireplace into my body. Just as I heaved the pack on, the door downstairs banged open. Voices shouted—and they didn’t sound like cries of delight.

“Window,” Hanai called, brushing by me with Cat right behind. He pulled her in front of him, and she climbed on the windowsill. “Jump!”

Cat leaped without a sound. Blazing infernos, she had more guts than me. Hanai motioned me forward, but I waved at him to go next. “I’ll buy us some time!”

Heavy footsteps thundered on the stairs. Summoning the hottest fire I possessed, I engulfed the doorway in licking blue flames.

The screams of the men in the hallway sent a ripple of sickness through me. Fighting a wave of nausea, I stepped onto the windowsill and looked down. Only darkness existed, but the raging fire behind me disabled my therma-vision.

I stared into the nothing. No way I could jump. No blazing way.

A lovely melody filled the spaces between the crackling flames. The sentries had brought a Watermaiden.

I took a deep breath and held it. Then I stepped off the ledge. I bit back a scream as the night swallowed me.

The ground never came. Only two stories up, the drop shouldn’t have taken so long.

“Ready?” Adam hovered—yes, hovered—in the air above me. The sight of him made a hysterical laugh burst from my mouth. He was here—he hadn’t defected, hadn’t ran back to his brother. I cried and laughed at the same time, all while Adam looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Ready for—?” I choked as he sailed down the alley, pulling me behind him with some invisible air tether. I’d never been so freaked out. Not even the first day my fingertips exploded into flames. See, floating above the ground with nothing underneath me was completely, totally, one-hundred percent life-altering.

Dark buildings flashed by. Adam towed me further and further into the city. Windows glowed in the blackness, and people walked in the streets below. A few minutes later, I sailed down a dark alley and descended to the ground.

I landed clumsily, stumbling forward into Isaiah’s arms. “Gabbers.”

I leaned on him, my legs shaking so bad they couldn’t hold my weight. I breathed deeply, trying not to throw up, but the fresh air didn’t help.

“Sorry,” Adam said, landing lightly next to Isaiah. “I forget flight isn’t for everyone.”

“Isn’t for everyone?” Hanai croaked. He bent over, his hands on his knees. He retched and groaned. “Don’t ever do that again. I’ll walk.”

“They had the exits blocked,” Adam said.

Still gasping for air, I sank to my knees. I agreed with Hanai. Death might have been better than the swirling, rocking motion of the earth.

“Let me have the backpack,” Isaiah said. He took it without an argument from me. Cat stood behind him, twisting her hands, her eyes on Adam.

I could barely breathe. A moan escaped as I put my head in my hands. Flight was definitely not for me, and my stomach clenched painfully. The smell of Hanai’s sickness didn’t help.

What I did next: Threw up.

“Are you okay?” Adam’s voice echoed in my head, but I knew he wasn’t talking to me.

“Yes,” Isaiah answered. “Why are they so sick?” His voice soothed my nerves, and I turned toward him.

“Air travel can do that.”

“We’re in the open here,” Isaiah said. “What’s the plan, Gillman?”

I was half annoyed that Isaiah was already calling Adam by his last name like they were best pals. I was definitely ticked that he was asking Gillman for the plan, but mostly I felt deliriously happy at finally having everyone together. I tried to stand up. That didn’t work. My knees met the concrete again, adding more pain to my nausea.

“Cat,” I whispered. “Sing…sing me a song.”

Her calming voice began a melody, but not a water song. My fire leaped at the pureness in her voice. My head cleared, and the cramping in my gut stopped. Icy hands helped me lie down. Adam’s familiar gloved fingers stroked my cheek and my shorn hair. I kept my eyes closed, completely entranced in the music.

The last note faded away. “Thank you,” I said. “How’s Hanai?”

“Better,” he said. “Good call on the singing.”

I sat up and blinked on my therma-vision. Cat cried out, but Adam chuckled. “And Gabby thinks riding the air is weird.”

I glared at him. Even in the yellows and oranges of my vision, he was so sexy my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m freezing,” he said. “Come warm me up.”

I walked past Isaiah and stepped into Adam’s welcoming embrace, laying my head against his chest. The tension I’d held in my shoulders for days faded. He allowed himself to relax into my arms for just a moment before stiffening again.

“Adam, this is Cat,” I said, pushing away from him and gesturing toward her.

“It’s dark,” he said. “We don’t all have freaky vision.”

“All right, simmer down,” I said.

“Light us up already. I can hear the poor girl’s teeth chattering.”

I ignited my hands as I closed my eyes. Tangerine flickers of light danced against my eyelids. The hum of the therma-vision faded, leaving a dull ache in my head. I opened my eyes.

Adam’s smile in the firelight was beautiful. It slid off his face at the same time Cat screeched.

Terrified, she backed away. She clawed at the wall behind her, her mouth moving with no sound. Tears streamed down her face.

“Cat, it’s okay,” I said over her wails. “This is our Airmaster, Adam Gillman.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes, her lovely features painted with sheer fright.

Adam’s expression was impossible to read. He’d lost his normal confidence, and he swallowed several times. His shoulders drooped as his gaze settled on the ground. He looked ashamed.

“What’s the deal?” I asked.

“She—I—we’ve met,” he whispered to the cement.

Hot blazes, I thought. Under what circumstances could Adam and Cat have met?

Isaiah stepped in front of her, smoothing her hair off her forehead and whispering to her.

I left Adam’s side and joined them. “Isaiah?” I whispered.

He shook his head, his mouth set in a determined line. “Cattails? Stop crying, all right? It’s okay.”

But tears continued slithering from her eyes. “He killed Reggie, Isaiah. Alex sent him to kill us.”

My internal fire melted into a cold river. Adam said there were things he’d done that he wasn’t proud of. But murder?

I turned back to Adam, a dozen emotions teeming inside. I couldn’t order the words, couldn’t find the questions I needed to ask. I strode forward, my heart keeping double-time.

“Gabby.” Adam stopped me with that one agonizing word. I faced him, remembering how easily the lies rolled off his tongue, how true they burned in my ears. I pulled him further away from the others, so we could have some privacy to discuss this new development.

“I didn’t—dammit! I was a sentry, my brother’s protégé. I told you I’d done a lot of bad things.”

Was that a confession? I inhaled, wishing there was some smoke nearby to help me calm down. I needed Cat to charter the Council, just as much as I needed Adam. An inferno of indecision raged inside.

He ran his hands over his face. “Please say something. Tell me what to do.”

I studied him for a moment. Grief streaked the lines around his eyes. His voice carried his torment. I didn’t think he could fake that. I reached toward his face, stopping before touching him. He grazed my fingers with two of his. A slight tremor ran through his body.

“Don’t run,” I said. “It’ll work out. Cat just needs some time.” I stretched up and kissed his unyielding mouth. “Don’t run.”

He caught my hand as I turned to leave. “How did you know I was thinking of leaving?”

“That’s what I would’ve been thinking.”

He smiled, though it was just a movement and not a declaration of his happiness. Isaiah joined us just as Adam said, “I can get us in to see Davison.”

I returned the smile, but it felt breakable, like an empty eggshell. “When?”

Isaiah stepped closer to me. “Cat is done for the night,” he murmured. “Let’s find somewhere to crash. We can find Davison and ask about a charter in the morning.”

Adam’s smile vanished. He slid a gloved hand into mine. “Okay, look, I know you’re the lead guy—or girl or whatever—and I don’t want to step on your toes, but we don’t have until morning. I’m barely hanging on here as it is.”

I frowned and struggled to understand. “Hanging on to what?”

“The transmission. There are forty-two sentries here, Gabby. Forty-two. Their signals call to mine, almost like the command to Manifest an Element. All of you are now uploaded as suspects. We need to get in to see Davison. He can deactivate my sentry status, I think. I don’t know. But I do know I won’t survive the night. Or rather, you guys won’t.”

“Adam—”

“The only other alternative I have is to run. Leave you guys and join my brother.”

“Then let’s go see Davison right now.”

Adam shifted his feet. “Well, it’s not going to be that easy.” He glanced at the building over his shoulder. “He’s trapped on the top floor. Has been for about a week. My sources say he sequestered himself as the sentries poured in from Tarpulin, but now he can’t get out.”

I exhaled in a defeated way. “Blazing infernos,” I swore. “So now what? Can we ride the wind to the top floor? Burrow under the building?”

“Let’s go down,” Isaiah said. “I’m not trying to hold back a sentry transmission.” He spoke with finality. When neither Adam nor I argued, he said, “I’ll go tell the others,” and retreated into the darkness.

I turned to follow him, but Adam’s hands snaked around my waist, pulled me closer. “About earlier….”

“Earlier?” I tried to keep the thrill of his touch from infusing my voice.

“You…kissed me.”

My face suddenly felt hotter than usual. “I didn’t want you to leave.”

His fingers trailed over my jaw. “Can we try that again?”

Our breath mingled. A sweet Elemental breeze coated my skin. My heart pumped into overdrive. I waited, eyes closed.

Finally, his lips brushed mine, barely long enough to feel. Then they pressed gently, long enough to steal my breath. At last, he formed his mouth to mine and kissed me like he meant it.

“If you want me to stay, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

“Okay,” was my lame answer.

“Okay, then.” He released me and my problems descended into my thoughts again. “If it’s okay with you—”

“Listen, you seem to know where to go and what to do. I defer.” I slipped my hand into his and returned to the others. Hanai and Cat were both standing. Cat clung to Isaiah, and though she had tear-stained cheeks, she seemed steady enough.

“Everyone okay?” I asked.

When no one answered, I sighed. “Look, I know we have a lot to sort through. But we can’t do it on the open street. I think we all agree that chartering our Council offers us the most protection.” I glanced at Adam, who was nodding. “That bond is almost impossible to break, and we all need each other. Anything else can be worked out later.” I filled them in on Adam’s issues. “He’s going to take the lead on this.”

“Okay, we have to get in that building.” He pointed across the street to a stone building ablaze in white light. “Top floor.”

“That door has seven sentry guards,” Hanai said. “And that’s just the outside entrance.”

“That’s why we’re not using the door,” Adam said. “Isaiah, take us down.”

I groaned under my breath. Luckily, the sound of Isaiah’s Earthmoving smothered the sound. Another tunnel. I hadn’t forgotten that I’d gotten stuck trying to escape Forrester. Adam obviously had. He jumped in the hole Isaiah created without a backward glance. I didn’t want to go last, but Cat stepped into the opening next.

Hanai drew me into a hug. “I’m glad you found Cat.” Tranquility accompanied his words, settling in the cracks of my brave façade and boring its way into my nerves.

I clung to him like he was my anchor. “Me too.”

He smiled as he drew back, keeping my hand tightly in his. He gestured toward the rabbit hole. “Go on.”

I didn’t want to let go of him. When I did, the serenity fled. Then I dropped ten feet, landed hard, and suppressed a grunt. Hanai landed next to me with hardly a sound.

Isaiah filled the tunnel behind me with the dirt in front of him, literally sealing us in the underground passage. I pushed past the others until I walked just behind him. We made it to the cement footings of the building after only five minutes.

“Down or up?” Isaiah asked.

“Up,” I said at the same time Adam said, “Down.”

Everyone looked at me and then Adam. His expression was unreadable, his eyes cold and flat.

“Hot blazes. Fine, let’s go down. But can we hurry? I hate being trapped underground. There’s not enough air down here.”

As Isaiah tunneled down, Adam waved his hand and a gentle breeze drifted across my face. Showoff, I thought even if I could breathe better. That is, until the ceiling started caving in.

“Infernos, Isaiah!” Dirt showered me, slithering down the back of my shirt.

“I have to put the earth somewhere, Gabbers. C’mon!”

Adam stepped over the edge of the hole Isaiah had made, crying out in surprise. I exchanged a worried look with Cat and Hanai before they walked into the great black abyss. They both screamed like little girls.

I had it easier because I could see. Determined not to make a sound, I held my flaming hand low and stepped off the edge.

I screamed. I couldn’t help it. The vertical drop took my breath away, and I was only inches away from getting buried alive.

Adam slowed the free-fall with a cushion of air. I landed next to Hanai, who looked like he was about to hurl again.

“Move, Gabby!” Adam grabbed my arm and yanked me forward just as a column of earth filled the space. “Tornadoes, Isaiah. What’s the—?”

“They’re coming. Follow me.” Isaiah grunted as he cleared the path in front of us. He crawled forward, the bottom of the cement scraping the top of the backpack.

“Hanai, how many?” Adam asked as he crouched to enter the passage.

“Impossible to tell. Some are above, some inside. I can’t feel them all.”

“Can’t feel them all? Great,” I muttered, shuffling forward so I wouldn’t get buried alive. Isaiah yelled again, and the walls around me shook. The ceiling crumbled as Isaiah’s screech ended. Chunks of cement rained down.

“Um, Isaiah?”

“Keep moving, Gabbers,” he said from far away.

I ducked as a jagged piece of cement narrowly missed knocking me senseless. Hands grabbed the back of my shirt and hauled me up.

“Sorry,” Isaiah said, a grin on his face.

I snorted, brushing debris off my shoulders.

“Stairs are blocked,” Hanai said. “But five sentries are coming down.”

I now stood in a room made entirely of cement. Ancient industrialized washers and dryers lined one wall. A silver door gaped open with dangling metallic cords inside.

“Adam, fly us up there,” I said, sprinting to the old elevator shaft. I looked up into the dark cavern, already worried about going up in this very tall building.

“Hold hands,” Adam said.

I reached for Cat and Hanai. The door to the right of us slammed open.

“Freeze! By order of the Supremist, all Elementals must surrender!”

Cat sang one high note and water gushed from the pipes above, crashing onto the five sentries.

“Take us up, Gillman.”

The wind gusted. “Step into the shaft,” Adam instructed.

Step into nothing? I thought, squinting into the elevator shaft. It dipped about five feet before ending in more cement and cables. Hanai squeezed my hand, and with his touch I found the courage I needed to step onto an—invisible—air—current.

I hovered in midair, fighting down a healthy dose of fear and a fair amount of nausea. We rose slowly. Large white numbers shone on the walls. At twenty, we stopped, still suspended in air.

“This is it,” Adam whispered. His hands shook, and he squeezed his eyes closed in a long blink.

“Where?” I asked. The shaft walls looked smooth to me.

“There.” Adam nodded toward a tiny vertical line of light.

“Don’t drop me,” I growled. I released Cat and Hanai’s hands and held still. The cushion of air slid closer to the wall, taking me with it.

I tried to pry the door open with my fingertips. Status: Fail.

Adam grunted. I lost altitude. A strangled cry escaped my throat as the air steadied underneath me. The startled voices of my friends echoed as they dropped a few feet.

Adam groaned, a horrible grating sound from inside his chest.

I reached for my sentry blade and jammed it between the doors. I yanked as hard as I could. Result: The door squealed open a few inches. I poured my heat into the metal and pushed with all the strength I had. The doors widened enough for me to squeeze my shoulders through.

I climbed onto a black and white tiled floor. I shoved the doors open a bit more to accommodate Isaiah’s wider body. “Adam, it’s open. Bring them up.”

He groaned and then yelled as they rose. I pulled Cat up as Hanai and Isaiah heaved themselves into the brightly lit room.

“Come on,” I said, reaching for Adam.

His face twisted in pain as the black tattoo snaked up over his neck and chin. He reached for me. I leaned further, trying to grab him. His hand remained a breath away from mine.

“I can’t….” He moaned; his eyes clenched closed. He dropped a few inches.

“No! We need you.” Traitorous tears welled in my eyes. Hanai tried to pull me away from the elevator shaft, but I shrugged him off.

Adam screamed again, and the black marks exploded across his face. Then I stood there and watched him fall,

Fall,

Fall,

Fall into blackness, his voice echoing with terror.

“Back up, Gabby,” Hanai said, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the empty elevator shaft. Adam could control air. He could fly. He’ll be back any second now…. Any second….

A smoldering coal caught fire in my stomach and exploded into an inferno of heat and ash. Fire coursed through my blood, coating my senses and leaking from my fingertips. My own fire had never harmed me—but this hurt like the fiery pits of hell.

Hanai’s panicked voice vaguely registered in my ears, but only flames and pain and heat and agony and fire existed in my world.

My Element had turned against me.

The smell of burnt hair met my nose. Through the terrible explosions in my mind, I heard a voice. Deep and wise, another Firemaker called to my Element.

“The Councilman,” I gasped out, “needs me.” I stumbled blindly to my feet. Someone bumped into me, but I kept going. Screaming and shouting and a lot of banging echoed around me, but I didn’t turn around.

When I reached a wall, I flattened my palms against it and forced the heat away. The polished wood caught the flame instantly. The pain receded. I opened my eyes as my hands met those of another.

The Firemaker curled his fingers through mine and pulled me through the flames.

“My friends,” I croaked out, falling to my knees. “One of them fell.”

“We’ll get them,” he said in his bass voice. He parted the fire like a curtain, and more people strode into the tiled room.

I stood—my friends needed me—but something sounded in my brain. A searing pain exploded in my shoulder. My brain felt like lava. I pressed my forehead to the cool wood floor.

Voices clambered.

An air raid siren wailed.

Someone touched my face. Cat sang a melody that made me smile, even through the rush of pain. A tangled tide of perfumed water covered me. It smelled like lilacs—like Cat. Another voice added to the soothing sound, tossing me into waves of dreamless sleep.

I woke up sometime later.

Problem #1: I was freezing. Pushing off the useless magic cloak, I sat up. Perhaps such a bone-melting experience with another Firemaker’s heat had robbed me of my own. My throat felt too thick. I couldn’t lose my power.

The room was darkening fast as I tried to calm myself. I ran my hands over my hair and down the front of my body, almost as if to check and see if I still had all the right parts in all the right places.

The silky fabric under my fingers felt foreign. I wore a navy blue robe, with buttons down the front like a man’s shirt. The robe flowed with me when I stepped and extended down below my knees.

Problem #2: I wore nothing but a pair of shorts under the robe.

The room spun, caging me in. The air evaporated. The crushing hands appeared, squeezing, squeezing the life from my lungs.

I turned, desperate to leave the confined space. Between my bed and the door lay an empty bed, and I collided with it. My feet tangled in the edges of the blanket along the floor. I sank back onto my bed and flung the covers away.

I lurched toward the door just as it opened. Hanai entered, concern lining his eyes. “You’re freaking out.”

I fell into his arms, sucking at the fresh air from the hall. “Where—is—?” I choked out, unable to say Adam’s name. I could still see him falling. Still hear his panicked cry.

His shoulders tensed. “Let’s go.” He led me into the hall, pressing his palm flat against mine. Bright electric lights shone from above. Hanai ambled down the hall, simply holding my hand, and I felt the world right itself again. With him, black tattoos and internal combustion didn’t seem to matter much.

Hanai wore the same blue robe as I did. He wore a silver pin over his heart. Two intricate snakes coiled upward, glinting in the electric lights.

After we’d gone up a flight of stairs, he paused and let go of my hand. “I have something for you.” He swept his robe open so he could dig in the pocket of his pants. He held up a silver pin, much like his, but this one depicted a silver flame of fire.

“For my Firemaker.” His tender smile extended all the way to his voice. He slid his fingers under the collar of my robe and fastened the pin on the left side. “Beautiful.”

When I looked up, he wasn’t looking at the pin, but right into my eyes. I stared back, the tingle of his fingers still itching my skin under the pin. Something strange and wonderful passed between us. The moment stilled in time, where everything was exactly as it should be.

He took my hand again and we continued down the hall toward a black and white tiled room. I recognized the floor; I’d crawled onto it from the elevator shaft. The elevator doors had been sealed shut, the slot where the doors met melted together.

Heaps of dirt lay in sweeping arcs, left where it had been tossed. The walls looked like a giant fist had punched through them and pulled out everything inside. White plaster dust coated the couch and two overturned chairs. Several scorch marks marred the walls, the desk, even the ceiling, where pipes hung down like weathered tree branches.

“What in the blazes—?” I searched Hanai’s face for an answer.

“Adam fell.” He cleared his throat. “You burst into flames and started stumbling around. You were talking, but I couldn’t make out the words. You wouldn’t let me near you.

“Then the sentries came up from the stairwell, and all hell broke loose. Cat broke pipes and threw waves of water. Her voice….” He shuddered. “Remind me not to tick her off, let’s just say that. Isaiah used the dirt in the potted plants and some plaster from the walls.

“You exploded an entire wall and disappeared behind a curtain of flames. Then Councilman Davison came out, followed by the rest of his Council, and about twenty additional Councilmen.”

Hanai paused, long enough for me to remember the agony of Davison’s fire. Long enough to remember the way Adam’s tattoo had disfigured his whole face and to watch the terror replace the pain in his eyes as he plummeted away from me.

“They sequestered themselves up here as a precaution. They have sentries hiding underground, and they’ve been busy preparing for what Davison calls an ‘imminent disaster.’”

“And Adam?” I asked.

“Davison sent his Airmaster to find Adam.”

I glanced at Hanai, concern spiking in my heart.

“They haven’t returned yet. Adam fought that mark until it nearly killed him, and then he couldn’t control the air, so he fell.”

“Where is Adam? Can you feel his, well, his soul?”

Hanai cleared his throat before speaking. “Not really. He seems to be coming in and out, but I can’t pinpoint his location.”

I squeezed Hanai’s hand, asking a question without words.

“I don’t know, Gabby. I don’t know if we can trust him or not.”

I swallowed. Hot tears gathered behind my eyes, but I blinked them away. I’d already chosen to trust him, now I had to live with whatever happened next.

“Anyway, Councilman Davison has some serious firepower. He killed a handful of sentries and chased the rest out of his building. He sealed all the entrances and assigned us rooms on the floor just below this one. He ordered the removal of the registration process, sent his Unmanifested Councilmember to clean up the streets, and has sent for his loyal sentries.” He paused to take a breath. “The other Councilmen have been just as busy. There’s a new Elemental here every other minute, and more meetings than I knew someone could attend. Then the Elementals leave again, each with an assignment.”

He gripped my fingers. “I think they can do it, though. Their souls feel hopeful, almost triumphant. I think together, their combined power and resolve can overthrow Alex.”

For the first time in a long time, I felt a bubble of hope push its way into my heart. Just as quickly as it bloomed, it deflated. “But what about our chartering? Surely Davison doesn’t have time for that.”

Hanai’s eyes sparkled. “Isaiah and I started the paperwork to charter the Council with Davison, though we can’t proceed without Adam.” He sighed, the sound full of exhaustion. “And Davison wants to talk to you alone. He wouldn’t disclose what he wants from you, but he won’t sponsor the charter until he speaks with you.”

“Thanks, Hanai,” I said, trying to tell him how much he meant to me in just two words.

“You were on fire,” Hanai said, softer now. “Really burning. Your soul hurt so much. I wanted to help you, but—but—it was horrible.”

Horrible described it pretty well, actually. “Davison summoned me. I had no choice but to respond.”

“Cat and Susanna doused you in water as fast as they could. Davison was livid when he found out you were a girl.” Hanai paused, searching my eyes. “Because of Alex, he does not think highly of women.”

The news stung more than I wanted to admit. “I knew people wouldn’t accept me.”

“But I think you could change his mind. He just needs another example of a female Firemaker to emulate. It can be you instead of Alex.” He leaned toward me, almost like he wanted to embrace me. “You can show him that it’s possible to be a powerful Firemaker and a girl.”

He drew me into a hug, and I borrowed his confidence and strength. My head felt too heavy to hold up, but I felt calm in the circle of Hanai’s arms. “He’s following all the rules, Gabby. He just wants to talk to you. Make him see a talented, sane, worthy Firemaker. You can have real power for change here.”

“The laws are changing,” I whispered into Hanai’s neck. “Aren’t they?”

He responded by holding me tighter. I never wanted him to let go. As long as we were together, I could be the Firemaker he wanted me to be. I could enact governmental change. I could make everyone see that girls were as strong as boys, that we were just as talented, that our fires burned just as hot.

Hanai stepped back, and I held my head high. “I sat by you most of the night. You do talk in your sleep.” He nudged me with his shoulder.

I cried out as hot pain streaked down my left side.

“Sorry,” Hanai said sheepishly. “I forgot to tell you that you were shot.”

“Shot? Like with a gun?” I didn’t dare move my arm. The pain slowly receded into a dull ache.

“Felix had a handgun. He fired one shot through the curtain of fire before Cat unleashed a tsunami on him.”

I reached up and touched my left shoulder blade. Hanai covered my fingers with his. “Leave it. Davison cauterized the wound, but it needs a few days to heal.”

I winced at the word cauterized, beyond thankful Cat had sung me to sleep. Even though I’d just woken up, I felt like I needed a nap. “Where’s Felix now?”

“He jumped into the elevator shaft, and we haven’t heard from him since.”

I glanced at the doors, thinking He’s not dead. I also thought it strange that both Adam and Felix had disappeared through the elevator shaft. Were they together? Would Adam come back?

“Well, let’s go see Davison, then,” I said. “Get this over with.”

Hanai led me down the hall. With every step, my feet felt heavier. He paused outside an ordinary-looking door, similar to the others we’d passed.

“You’ll have to go in alone,” he said. “Davison was very clear about that.” Hanai released my hand and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “Good luck.”

When I couldn’t stall for another second, I opened the door and stepped inside. I saw a dozen people, all wearing various shades of silk. I shrank against the closed door as several of them turned to look at me.

I stood there, mute and staring. See, I’d never attended the diplomacy classes in school. Those were for registered Elementals.

“Hello, Gabriella.” Davison stood, stretching to his full six-foot height, and abandoning the hushed conversation he’d been having with two Councilmen. The other chatter in the room dissipated.

I swallowed. “Hello, Councilman Davison. You wanted to see me?”

My eyes flitted from face to face. The first man I saw looked like he’d tasted something sour. The steel in the second man’s expression didn’t fade as the silence stretched. By the time I looked to the third man in the room, the message was clear: They weren’t sure what to make of me.

I blinked angrily at the tears pricking behind my eyes. I wouldn’t give them another reason to think girls couldn’t be Firemakers.

“Hello, Firemakers,” I said. “My name is Gabriella Kilpatrick, and I hail from Crylon.”

A man shifted, and I recognized him. As was custom, I bowed to my Councilman. “Councilman Ferguson.”

“Rise,” he said. His footsteps echoed closer, but I kept my face toward the floor. Only when he touched my shoulder did I stand. He looked older than I remembered; maybe I did too.

His bright blue eyes sparked with intensity as he appraised me. “You’re a Firemaker?” His voice came out soft, kind.

I nodded.

“Show me.” He stepped back to allow everyone in the room to witness my power.

I snapped my fingers, igniting them into blue-tipped flames. I took a deep breath, then urged the flames into torches. Flames licked the ceiling; a calm, white smoke filtered through the room.

I fisted my hands, pulling the power back into myself. When I dared to look at the group of Councilmen, I found that some of the disgust had been replaced with respect. I tried on a timid smile, and Davison flashed me a tight grin in return.

Some of the tension in my muscles relaxed—at least until he said, “Come sit down, Gabriella.” He gestured to a chair next to him. “Councilmen, my apologies. I need a moment alone with Gabriella.”

I quickly stepped further into the room to allow space for the others to leave. He spoke with several of them, casting me a daggered look as he did. I interpreted the look to mean, I really don’t have time for this.

And I knew he didn’t. I squared my shoulders, deciding that I didn’t care. I needed the magical protection of a chartering, and he was the highest ranking Councilman available.

The Councilman of Crylon was the last to leave. He stepped close to me, a look I couldn’t decipher in his eye. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and left with only a smile for me.

“Come, sit.” Councilman Davison frowned when I still didn’t move. His dark purple Council robes practically smoked with annoyance. “My Airmaster is out looking for yours,” he said, like it was my fault Adam was gone. Perhaps it was—he had been fighting his tattoo on my behalf for days. I shrugged away the guilt flooding my system.

Against my better judgment, I moved forward and sat. Every nerve raged with desperate fire. I cleared my throat, not that I was gearing up to say anything.

“What is it you want?” Davison settled himself back into his chair.

“I need to charter a Council, sir,” I said, using the social skills Educator Ostrund had inflicted upon me.

He steepled his fingers, appraising me. “Your Earthmover and your Watermaiden have considerable talent,” he said.

“They do,” I agreed, wondering why he was going through my personnel. Did he honestly care?

“Your Unmanifested seems capable,” he said.

“He is.” I balled my hands into fists in my lap where Councilman Davison couldn’t see. With each passing moment, my fire burned hotter, and I swallowed to cool it.

“You cannot charter without an Airmaster,” Davison said.

“I’m sure Mr. Gillman will return as soon as he’s able,” I said, though I had no idea if that was true, or when it might happen. A squirmy sensation wormed through my stomach, not only from worry but from the possibility of lying to this very powerful man.

The Councilman stared at me with cold eyes, and I stared right back. He broke the silence by inhaling deeply and exhaling loudly.

“Gabriella, this is a huge opportunity for us.” He leaned forward. “Do you understand?”

My mind raced, trying to find the opportunity in living confined in a twenty-story building and declaring war on an extremely powerful Elemental. I thought through what Hanai had said about the laws changing and showing Davison that girls could be blazing talented Firemakers.

Finally, I nodded. “There is change coming,” I said. My voice hardly sounded like my own, but wiser. More like my beloved Educator Graham.

“I can help you with the chartering,” he began, each word drawn out. “But, then, the United Territories needs your help.”

“My help?” I asked. He had two dozen Councilmen—men who could call down fire from the sky and bring lava up from the ground—waiting in the hall. “My help to do what?”

“You are a girl,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

“Yes,” I said, still not getting it.

“Alex Pederson, the current Supreme Elemental, is a girl.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“She is not a good Supremist.” He sighed when I didn’t jump in with my next step. “Gabriella, I’ve been opposing her new educational policies for over a year. I’ve been traveling to Unmanifested villages and gathering support. I’ve been training twice as many sentries as I usually do. I’ve sent messages to all the Councilmen in every region and city in the Union. All to be able to come against Alex at the right time.”

“And you think now is the right time,” I said.

“It’s the right time for a lot of things,” he said. “She is desperate to find you. She has gone from school to school, searching for you. I don’t know how she knew you existed, as you never sent in the Manifestation of your Element, but she knew.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “My sentries say she will do anything to find and eliminate you.”

I wasn’t sure if this news was supposed to make me feel better or not. “Sir, what is it exactly you want me to do?”

“I need you to go to Tarpulin and draw the Supremist out of her stronghold.” He leaned forward. “My sentries cannot attack her there, and she refuses to leave for fear they’ll bind her and bring her here. We have been at a standstill for weeks.”

I frowned, unable to make certain facts line up in my brain. “Sir, I thought she was here.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, when we arrived on the train, her personal sentry said she could feel me, could feel my firemaking ability.” I looked at him, some of the tension between us melting away. “How could she do that if she wasn’t here? I find it hard to believe she could feel such things all the way from Tarpulin.” Again, I had no idea how far Tarpulin sat from Gregorio, but Davison didn’t need to know that.

He rubbed his hand over his face. “Yes, that doesn’t make much sense. Perhaps that sentry is misinformed. Alex is definitely sequestered in Tarpulin.”

“I saw her in the Outcast settlement last week.”

“When last week?”

“Well, we rode the train for two days, and then one day here, and how long have I been asleep?”

“Just one day.”

With the day of walking… .“So five days ago. She was there. She shot out of the ground.”

“Shot out of the ground?” Davison leaned forward, his eyes dancing with dangerous curiosity. I preferred the cold indifference, honestly.

“Yes, sir. Right out of the ground like an Earthmover. She threw fire too.”

Knocking sounded on the door, but Davison called, “A moment more, please.” He focused his attention back on me. “I have a great many things to do, Gabriella. It matters not where Alex is now. I am centering the attack on Tarpulin. That is where you must go. She will come to you.”

The words rattled in my head as I tried to sort through them. “So you want me to lure her out. You want to use me as bait.”

“You will not go alone,” he said. “I have a legion of sentries already surrounding Tarpulin.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” I snapped, letting my anger rise. “This sounds like a suicide mission.”

When he didn’t protest, a heavy weight settled on my shoulders. “I’m going to die if I go to Tarpulin, aren’t I?”

“I need her out in the open,” Davison said, ignoring my outburst, as someone knocked again. He rose to his feet. “You will have the magical protection of the chartering. You will not be alone. And if we succeed, I will personally ensure that your Council is approved and apprenticed.”

Apprenticed too? I’d get a ten-year mentorship with an established Councilman and city. Even when Councils had been chartered and had completed diplomacy training, they didn’t always get an apprenticeship right away. Or at all.

“And I don’t have to marry one of my Councilmembers,” I said, standing so I could feel like I was on equal footing with Davison.

“You are asking for a major policy change,” he said, a new measure of respect in his voice. “I don’t think I can guarantee such a thing before the chartering.”

I considered him. He seemed genuine. He hadn’t been overly excited to see me, but he’d been fair. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll sign the regular paperwork, but I want to change that law when we defeat Alex. As you said, the laws are changing. With female Firemakers, the marriage laws for Councils should be altered too. Women should have equal rights as men.”

A tight smile appeared on his face. “Very well.” He smoothed down the front of his robes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have many things to attend to.” He did not wait for my permission before wrenching open the door and shooing me out.

I returned to my room, where I stared out the window to the city beyond. Through the glass, I felt the chill of the coming night. I thought of Jarvis, hopefully somewhere far away from here, from Tarpulin, from danger. As much as I’d wanted to run into the forest the evening of his chartering ceremony, I couldn’t. I’d wanted to be there just as bad.

So I’d gone.

He wore a magnificent suit of black, complete with a starched white shirt and a tie the color of lemons. His Councilmembers—including Liz—wore matching yellow Council robes.

I’d seen something in his eyes that night. Just a flicker, but the way he’d watched me spoke volumes. He’d shifted uncomfortably, like his clothes were a prison.

I felt like that inside my own skin. All the time.

Right now, especially. Councilman Davison’s request was a suicide mission. How could I do it? How could I not do it?

I placed my palm flat against the glass. The sprawling city of Gregorio lay before me, with hundreds of thousands of people and just as many problems. Pale yellow candlelight flickered in a few neighboring windows, but most of the structures squatted in darkness. All those people. Without familial bonds, all people looked to their Councilman for direction, for protection. Davison had been absent for only a week, and already chaos had descended.

Who was I kidding? I could never govern an entire city, even after the required two years of diplomacy training and the decade of apprenticeship with another Firemaker. The gravity of that scenario crushed me until my shoulders drooped.

“Gabby?”

I turned, my heart jumping into my throat as I lit my hands. The fire reflected off dark eyes.

I slugged Hanai on the shoulder with a smoking palm. “I’m going to seriously hurt you one day.”

He slipped his hand into mine. “What are you looking at?”

I glanced out the window again, hoping to still the frantic beating of my heart. “You think we can get a whole city of people to listen to us? We’re just kids.”

He put his hand on my face and turned me toward him. His eyes held the unmistakable quality of love. “You can. I can feel it inside you. Sure, it won’t be easy—surviving isn’t easy. But if anyone can unite people, it’s you. Besides, we’re mentored for a decade, even after an assignment. So we have time.”

The sincerity in his words rang true. His belief in me was astonishing.

“Gabby, I have to say this.” He still hadn’t removed his palm from my cheek.

“Say what?” I whispered, marveling at how time slowed into nothing when I was with him.

“My soul…can feel yours, right? Adam’s too. I can feel everyone. It’s pretty weird. I’d gotten used to the people in my settlement, but now I can’t sort out what belongs to me and what doesn’t.” He looked down at the floor, his hair falling between us in a dark curtain.

He shifted closer to me. “I have Spirit-speaker blood. I don’t have control over what your soul tells mine. I should be able to block it, but we’re too close. And that’s my fault. I let myself fall in love with you, just like I let myself become best friends with Adam. During all that, I lost myself.”

A single tear slithered down his face. “I’m not sure I should be on the Council anymore,” he murmured. Then his hands settled on my waist, and he pulled me forward.

He leaned closer, closer. Then he kissed me as if somehow I could hold him together. Or that I could tell him how to feel, or how to deal with his swirling Spirit-speaker blood. I couldn’t do any of those things, but I kissed him like I could.

Comfort emanated from Hanai’s firm touch on my lower back. My fire burned brighter than ever, sending heat from my stomach to my fingertips. Flames danced behind my closed eyes, and I slid my fingers through his hair and clung to him with my lips.

I realized I really liked Hanai. In a different way than Adam. He had a quick charm, striking good looks, an easy way with words.

But Hanai possessed something deeper. I could trust him. He offered me a safe place, a haven from the inferno that had become my life. With his mouth still moving precisely with mine, I knew that’s what I really wanted. I knew he’d do anything for me. And I’d do anything for him. The thought both terrified and excited me.

He pulled away and placed his finger on my tingling lips. “Gabby.” Sadness glinted in his eyes, like he knew I’d go running back to Adam as soon as he showed up. And he might be right. I wasn’t sure myself, as my feelings were ever confused when it came to Adam.

“I need you,” I whispered.

He gathered me in a warm embrace and placed his cheek against mine. “As much as Adam?”

I couldn’t keep the truth inside. “Maybe more. Besides, he’s not even here.”

Hanai pulled away from me, taking his calming touch with him. “That’s why I came to find you,” he said. “Airmaster Jones has just returned with Adam.”

I rushed down the hall, my eyes switching from door to door. They were all closed. “Which room, Hanai?”

“He’s in the infirmary,” he said, keeping pace with me. “Other side of the lobby. He’s not awake, Gabby. You won’t be able to talk to him.”

“I don’t care,” I said, walking now and trying to push back tears. They spilled down my cheeks anyway. “We’re finally all together.”

“He’s not awake,” Hanai said again, but I ignored him. When I barged into the infirmary and found Adam lying on a table, naked except for a sheet across his midsection, I couldn’t ignore Hanai’s warning any longer.

Adam’s skin glistened like half-melted wax, and the color reminded me of the dirty snow in the Outcast settlement. He didn’t move, not even so much as a twitch when a doctor stabbed a needle into his arm.

The black lines of the tattoo snaked over every possible inch of his body, all the way to the bottoms of his feet. I covered my hand with my mouth as Davison pressed his fingers against Adam’s temple.

“Hanai,” he called. “Your gifts are needed.” Davison didn’t spare me a glance as Hanai crossed the room. Hanai did, his expression full of apology and agony. I wondered what it would cost him to heal Adam.

I didn’t have time to ask before a chant filled the air, and Hanai placed his palm over Adam’s chest, and then over his face, singing all the while.

Back in my room, I removed my Council robes and pulled on the pair of pants Hanai had given me in the Outcast settlement. I matched them with a black T-shirt, mourning the loss of my camisole.

I lost track of time as I stood at the window, watching life pass by. The sound of the door opening and closing registered in my ears, but I didn’t turn.

“Are you okay?” Hanai asked, making a slight noise as he settled on the bed.

I just shook my head, trying to sort through how I felt. “I don’t think Adam is who we think he is,” I said. “Where has he been, you know?”

“I know,” he said his voice full of exhaustion.

I turned and found him lying on the bed, his eyes closed as he took deep breaths. “Davison had me use my healing chant to address his wounds. He had four broken ribs.”

I crossed the room to him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt you to heal?”

“I’m just not very good at it,” he said, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “My father had experienced healers in the settlement. It’s not my gift, but I’m better than nothing.”

Finally, Hanai’s breathing quieted, but I knew he wasn’t asleep. Then he sat up. “Gabby, I have to tell you something.”

He cleared his throat to speak. Then he glanced away. He shifted on the bed and actually made noise doing it.

A queasy feeling stretched in my gut. “Blazes, Hanai. Just spit it out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s what you have to tell me?”

“I’m not who you think I am either.” He clenched his jaw and turned away. “I’m not Unmanifested.”

I couldn’t comprehend Hanai’s words. “What?” I managed to choke out.

“I completed the Manifestation of my Spiritual Element yesterday while you were asleep. That’s why I’ve been so sick. Well, I wasn’t really sick. More like communing.”

Words failed me. I controlled my fire, feeling too hot, like the time Councilman Davison had summoned me.

Hanai’s “Element” caused a lot of problems. At the top of the list: We couldn’t charter a Council without an Unmanifested member.

Option A: Lie.

I’m so tired of this.

Option B: Report, see what happened.

Perhaps….

“I know you don’t believe in the Element of Spirit,” he continued. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m Elemental, just like you.”

“I never said I didn’t believe in the Element of Spirit. More like I don’t know anything about it.” I ran my hands over my face as I searched for an Option C.

“What is a Spiritual Element?”

“We talked a lot about gifts of the spirit in my village,” he said. “We never called it an Element. Sometimes a child was born with an exceptional gift of healing, or the rare ability to communicate with animals. My father said my mother—” His voice cut off, choked with pain. I realized that I’d never met Hanai’s mother, hadn’t even thought about her. “My mother had the ability to tell if someone was lying.” He looked away. “She died when I was only a year old. I don’t remember her.”

I didn’t want to add to Hanai’s obvious pain by telling him that the Element of Spirit didn’t sound very useful—that was probably why it wasn’t recognized or included on a Council. I seized onto this idea.

“Hania, this isn’t a problem. Davison won’t accept the Element of Spirit anyway. He’ll still say you’re Unmanifested.”

“Just because he doesn’t recognize it as a viable Element, doesn’t mean it isn’t one.” Hanai’s gentle voice held great authority. He believed himself a Spiritual Elemental no matter what anyone said.

Option D: Find a new Unmanifested for the Council. But this made my heart stall in a way I hadn’t thought possible. At least not with Hanai.

“You can’t leave,” I said, my mind seizing with panic.

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. This is an easy fix. No one has to know. We’ll keep this between—”

“I already told Cat.”

I paused, stung he’d told her before me. “Okay, so we’ll keep this between the three of us. We’ll charter our Council, and then we’ll replace Adam with an Unmanifested. We’ll still have four Elementals with an Unmanifested to represent all segments of society. It’s perfect.”

“But other Councils—or the people—won’t accept the Element of Spirit. And the Airmasters won’t be represented on our Council.”

Blazes, we’d be lucky to stay alive, let alone get an assignment—no matter what Davison promised. The possibility of using my chartered Council for safety faded into nothing. I felt the same way now as I had the night Jarvis told me to run. Hopeless and desperate. No options. Only the unknown on the horizon.

Except for the certain death that awaited me in Tarpulin.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please, please stay.”

Hanai stood up. “Okay, I’ll stay, but I’m not lying.” He left, and I turned back to the window again, completely lost inside my own head.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of bathwater running and Cat’s beautiful voice humming as she infused the liquid with one of her relaxation concoctions. I stayed in bed while she washed, and then asked her to prepare a bath for me too.

We didn’t speak, but we didn’t need to. Our friendship now mirrored what we’d had in Crylon, and I clung to the normalcy of it. I pondered Adam’s condition and if Hanai had been able to heal him completely.

“I’m going to find Isaiah,” Cat said. “Come join us for lunch.”

“Okay.” I finished getting ready, layering my Council robe over my regular clothes, and went to inquire about Adam.

It seemed that Davison had the entire city at his command, which I suppose he did. Sentries stood guard at every stairwell. The delicious smell of breakfast wafted down from the floor above. He must have cooks on staff. I spotted Elementals coming and going, and I knew they were making preparations for the attack as well as attending to the business of running their cities. In the infirmary, doctors and nurses cared for more people than just Adam.

Everyone seemed calm and friendly. I was living on the nineteenth floor, and everything I needed was contained on this floor and the one above it. For now, it was enough. In fact, it provided me the protection and safety I needed.

I didn’t know how long we could stay in Gregorio. Davison said he had legions of sentries already camped outside Tarpulin. I assumed that as soon as our chartering was complete, I’d be leaving to lure the Supremist out of Tarpulin.

I found Adam in much the same condition as the afternoon before, except the tattoo had disappeared from his skin. Quilts covered him from neck to feet, and I stroked his hair off his forehead while I looked down at his sleeping face.

“He should wake up soon,” a nurse said, checking Adam’s pulse on his wrist. “The worst of it has passed.”

“What happened to him?” I murmured, not really expecting an answer.

“I think he’s the only one who knows,” the nurse said. “But your friend did heal several injuries.” The nurse consulted a folder. “Four broken ribs, kidney bruising, and six fractured phalange bones.”

“Phalange?”

“His fingers.”

I swallowed back the horrifying images of the force required to break a rib or a finger. “Thank you.” I wasn’t sure if I meant the nurse or Hanai.

The nurse left, but I stayed beside Adam until my stomach cramped with hunger.

I followed my nose to the dining hall on the twentieth floor. Right next to Davison’s conference room, it was packed with Elementals. Most of them sat in twos or threes, heads bent together in quiet conversation. The food steamed in pots along the wall to my left, and my mouth watered at the sight of dark breads and sugary pastries. I spied Hanai sitting alone at a table near the window, and after I loaded a bowl with stew and balanced several slices of rye bread on my plate, I joined him.

“What’d you get?” he asked, eyeing a second plate I’d piled with fig tarts.

“Soup,” I said. “I’m freezing.” A glance out the window confirmed that winter would be staying a while. Snow had started falling, and I thought it strange to have such weather this far south and so late in the spring.

“How’s Adam?” Hanai asked.

“The same,” I said. “The nurse said you healed his major problems and he should wake up soon.”

Hanai nodded, and we made room for Cat and Isaiah as they joined us for lunch. As I talked with and listened to my friends, I couldn’t help but notice the hole that existed without Adam.

“How long do you think we’ll stay here?” I asked Hanai as we I left the dining hall.

“We can’t do much until Adam wakes up. So, I don’t know.” He slid his hand into mine and we headed toward the stairs to return to our rooms. I liked the warmth his skin gave to mine, and I squeezed his hand. He smiled without looking at me, almost like he didn’t want me to see it.

Hanai suddenly stopped, shifting his feet backward. “He’s awake.”

“Adam?”

“He’s coming.” Hanai pulled his hand away, but I was too slow releasing it, and Adam came out of Councilman Davison’s conference room before our fingers untangled. His eyes flickered from my hand to my face. He wore his navy Council robes with a glint of silver on his chest.

“Gabby,” he breathed, striding forward and draping me in a hug. With his mouth close to my ear, he whispered, “I just signed the charter documents.”

“Great,” I said, my voice too high and my breath wisping too lightly.

“Is Davison in the conference room?” Hanai asked, his eyes hard coals. “Is the charter ready?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. I pinned Hanai with a look I was sure was filled with pure panic. Was he going to tell Davison about his Element?

“See you guys later,” Hanai said, blinking to snap the connection between us. I lifted my hand in a half-hearted wave as Adam stepped back and claimed my hand in his.

“Later,” Adam called over his shoulder. “Much later,” he added just loud enough for me to hear.

I reached for his pin—a silver funnel cloud. I fingered it before running my hands across his shoulders and around his neck. His tension drained away, but I collected it and held it in my heart.

“Tornadoes, you’re more beautiful than I remember.” He hugged me again. His touch caused such new emotions. Strange, unfamiliar feelings. Not comfort like Hanai, but a weird zinging in my stomach. An insecurity of my next word, my next action. I couldn’t sort through my wild thoughts fast enough to keep up with the situation.

I knew one thing: I wanted him to hold me, kiss me, be jealous when he found me in the hall holding hands with Hanai.

“Something going on with you and Hanai I need to know about?” he asked.

I shook my head, knowing that if I spoke, the lie would come alive. Because, see, there was something going on. Something I couldn’t name, hadn’t acknowledged before, but existed nonetheless. Something that needed time to grow and develop, but when it did, would be wonderful.

I looked up into Adam’s tattoo-free face. His blond curls were damp. I inhaled, hoping to fill my whole soul with his ash-and-lemon scent.

“I can touch you now,” he murmured, running his thumb across my cheekbone. He started unbuttoning his robe. “Look.” He turned, letting it fall to the floor.

“It’s gone.” I traced his shoulder blade where the garish black lines had been etched into his skin. The orange center had been erased too, replaced with a small bandage. He turned around, and my fingers brushed his bare chest before I pulled them away.

“I’m officially not a sentry. I won’t put you or anyone else in danger.”

I looked into his glittering eyes. “That’s great,” I said, the words almost tripping over themselves.

“You want to know the best part?” He ran his hands up the length of my arms to my shoulders. I winced as he touched my gunshot wound.

“What? Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing.” I wished he would put his robe back on. He only wore a pair of black shorts, and his golden skin distracted me.

He raised his eyebrows. “Nothing?”

“I got shot,” I mumbled.

“Shot?” He fumbled with the buttons on my robe.

I swatted his hands away. “Watch it.”

“I just want to see your ‘nothing.’” He cocked his head to the side, causing his wavy blond hair to fall across his eyes in a playful way.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Then you’ll tell me the best part of not being a sentry.”

Adam’s grin widened. “Deal.”

I undid two buttons, just enough to push the robe off my left shoulder. Adam moved behind me, his fingers resting lightly on my upper arm. His breath washed over my neck.

Then he kissed my shoulder, right above the bandage. “Does it hurt?”

Instantly, fire raged in my veins. I half-hated that this boy affected me so strongly.

Adam touched his lips just under my ear. “The best part,” he whispered, “is that I can touch you without pain.” He wrapped his hands around my waist. “Without fear.”

I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say anyway.

“I know you’re happy about that,” he said. “I’ve learned how to interpret your silences.” He grinned at me before picking up his robe. “Come on.” He walked down the hall to the stairs.

On the nineteenth floor, he passed the room I was sharing with Cat, crossed through the lobby, and opened the last door on the right. The room had a single bed with an identical bedspread to mine. No carpet, only a steel floor. Standard white paint. The backpack lay on the floor between the bed and the couch across from it.

Panic flared. This was his bedroom. I hastily secured the buttons on my robe when he closed and then locked the door.

When he turned around, a hungry look shone in his eyes. He brushed the hair out of his face. “Gabriella,” he murmured, moving forward. I swallowed as he put his hands on my waist.

He paused for a moment, appraising. Then he kissed me. His mouth softened at the same time his grip tightened. I loved the way his hair felt in my fingers, the way his body tensed at my touch.

He broke away and whispered, “Aren’t we good together, Gabby?” He didn’t wait for me to answer before touching his lips to mine again. He gently pushed me back, and I took a step to maintain my balance. He didn’t break contact with me, but kept his body pressed into mine.

I pulled away. “Adam, I….” I paused, looking into his eyes. “I….” I had no idea what I wanted to say, just that I needed to say something.

He smiled and took my face in his hands. “Tornadoes, you’re beautiful. I could look at you forever.” When he said it, I believed him. For the first time, I felt beautiful.

I traced one finger over his face to the hollow of his neck. He kissed me tenderly, his feelings infused in his touch. My heat wrapped around us both, blanketing us in the moment. I thought maybe I could stay in his arms forever, breathe in and out with him, explore his mouth until my lips ached.

But nothing lasted forever.

Someone knocked on the door. I jumped at the sound, but Adam didn’t move. The knocking continued, and someone called, “Gabriella?”

“That’s Davison,” I said, untangling myself from Adam and striding to the door. Davison looked strangely upset at finding me in Adam’s bedroom—or maybe because he’d had to knock for fifteen seconds instead of five.

“Councilman,” I said.

“I need you to finalize the charter,” he said.

“Oh, okay.” I started to move into the hall, but Adam slid his hand into mine and kept me in place.

“When is the ceremony?” he asked.

Davison switched his gaze to Adam. “The formal ceremony will follow dinner.”

“How long until dinner?” Adam asked.

“A few hours, at least.”

“Time enough, then,” Adam said. “Gabby will be along to finish the paperwork in a few minutes.” He closed the door in Davison’s stunned face. A click echoed when Adam twisted the lock.

“What are you doing?” A tremor ran down my arms. “That was embarrassing.” I turned around and found Adam retreating to his bed. His back looked smooth and golden, without a trace of black. I blinked, and a thin line of darkness coiled out from the bandage.

“Lighten up, Gabby. Everyone already knows you love me.” He flopped onto his bed, leaving me staring and wondering if I’d seen anything on his back.

I laughed, covering my shock at the possible tattoo sighting—and the use of the word love. “Except for Davison,” I said, trying to keep the mood light and the forbidden word submerged. I didn’t dare blink as he motioned me over. I sat on the edge of his bed nervously.

“He’ll ask you who you’re going to choose, so he’d find out soon enough.” Adam sat too, his leg pressing against mine.

I swallowed the cold fury at having to choose a husband as part of the charter. Intellectually, I’d known I’d have to, it just hadn’t felt real. Until now. Besides, I had loads of time to get that law changed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, tracing a swirling pattern on my uninjured shoulder.

“Not much,” I lied, unwilling to tell him that I was plotting a way for us to remain single.

Adam shifted away from me. “Come on. If we’re gonna be together—be a Council—you’ve got to talk to me. Besides, it’s easy to tell when you’ve got something on your mind.”

“How? How do you know?”

“You emit weird…stuff into the air. It’s harder to breathe. And don’t change the subject. What’s on your mind?”

I remained silent, and Adam made some exaggerated choking noises. “Can’t…breathe….”

I struggled with the inner workings of my brain.

“Gabby—”

I stole his words with my mouth. He didn’t like it—he had something to say, but I didn’t care. After a moment, his lips softened, and he snaked his hands along my back.

But what had I started? How far was I willing to go simply to avoid telling him the truth?

Adam’s kisses became deeper. His fingers slid along the buttons of my robe, releasing enough to move his hand underneath. My skin flamed where he touched me.

My stomach filled with fire. Then my ribs ignited—everywhere he touched.

And I knew, in my heart, I didn’t want to do this.

“Adam,” I breathed, trying to make my voice sound full of fire instead of full of air. “I—” His mouth fit against mine. Fire burned in my bloodstream.

What it said: Listen to your heart.

I pushed Adam away and drew a deep breath. “I don’t want to do this.”

He looked like I’d punched him with a fiery fist.

“Right now,” I added, trying to erase the hurt in his eyes. It still lingered there, but I just needed more time. I liked Adam—a lot. But I’d just met the guy—what? A couple of weeks ago? True, he made my bones melt with a simple look. But the memory of Hanai’s hand in mine, the tender pull in his voice, the way he carefully kissed me, still played in my mind.

The only other person I’d allowed this far into my life had chosen someone else. “I can sense the fire in you, Gabby. I could feel it in January,” echoed in my head. Even as Jarvis had kissed me in the forest, he’d known we couldn’t be together. He’d always known he wouldn’t choose me. That knowledge made our relationship feel so cheap. I’d often wondered if I’d meant anything to him at all.

I didn’t want to end up hating Adam the same way I loathed-yet-craved Jarvis. I glanced at him, desperate to explain without actually speaking.

Adam slid off the bed, turned his back toward me and ran his hands through his hair. I took the opportunity to stand and secure the buttons on my robe.

“You’ll have to choose,” he whispered. “A husband.”

He’d said it. The H-word. It slammed into me, buckling my knees and sending me back to the bed.

He turned. A smile graced his handsome face. “I’m pretty sure Isaiah’s not on the market.” He glanced at the locked door. “But I know there’s something going on with you and Hanai.”

I couldn’t deny it, and I didn’t even try. Hanai had something Adam didn’t. Trustworthiness.

A pained looked crossed Adam’s face. “Cat’s in love with Isaiah.” He reached for my hand and pulled me closer. “And I’m in love with you.”

The L-word for real this time. Hot blazes, I thought, trying to sort through the conflicting sea of emotions raging inside. I shook my hand out of his, desperate to be alone.

See, relationships had never been on the horizon for me. I was going to be a teacher or a servant. And those types didn’t marry.

No one marries in Crylon. Except the female Elementals. My thoughts hissed in my head along with a conversation I’d had with Educator Graham just two days before she disappeared. She’d told me if I chose the Educator track, I’d never have to marry. I’d wondered then, as I did now, if I even wanted to get married.

I’d always arrived at maybe. If I found someone I loved. Then I would. I’d leave everything for him.

That’s what love was, right?

After class, I walked with Jarvis as the sun set. We didn’t talk, but let the leaves chatter in the whispering breeze. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I thought about leaving everything for someone.

A few months later, with Educator Graham gone and winter fully settled in Crylon, Jarvis had chosen Liz.

That’s when I realized that Jarvis loved being a Firemaker more than he loved me. That’s when I learned that sometimes loving someone wasn’t enough.

Flames erupted in my stomach at the thoughts of Jarvis. Hot, angry flames. “I hate that marriage rule,” I said.

“Hey, it’s not my fault.”

I crossed my arms. “So I have to marry you or Hanai, for, for what? So a man can control me? So the girls won’t screw everything up?”

Adam mirrored me, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “Okay, let’s go there. So you want me to pledge myself to you, but you don’t want to give anything in return?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m the Firemaker! Everyone pledges to me. And you know blazing well that I don’t expect you to be at my beck and call. It’s not like you’d be my servant. As your….” I couldn’t even say it. “If we were married, I’d be your property, your servant.”

He took a step forward. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Gabby.”

Neither would Hanai, I thought. “Oh, I get it. Because if a woman didn’t have a man telling her what to do she’d make bad choices. Is that it?”

Adam shook his head. “This is another one of those things I don’t care about, not really. But like you said in the cave the first night we met, it’s hard to overcome two centuries of time. And this is our law.”

“For now,” I said, silently vowing to ensure that female Elementals did not have to be married to serve on a Council.

Adam and I glared at each other, the silence screaming in the background. The defiance drained from Adam’s eyes. He took a slow step forward and trailed his fingers up my arm. “I’d really like to be your Airmaster, Gabriella. And whatever else you want.”

The air spiraled around me, crushing me into a tiny hole inside myself. I couldn’t stay in that room for another second. I spun toward the door, hot tears tumbling down my face. Sparks flew from my fingertips as I fumbled with the lock. My breath choked in my throat. The blazing lock wouldn’t turn.

Adam’s fingers brushed mine as he moved my hands away from the doorknob. He unlocked the door in a swift motion and pushed it open.

I met his gaze. What I saw in his eyes: Sadness and frustration accompanied by an edge of anger and wounded pride.

I didn’t know what he saw in mine. A blazing mess of a Firemaker? A blubbering girl? Someone he loved?

I pushed past him and fled down the hall.

An hour later, an impatient Davison summoned me to his conference room, where I found his entire Council seated around the table. One empty chair indicated where I should sit, so I slid into place and looked around the circle. I could only hope the puffiness around my eyes had receded enough.

“Gabriella, this is my Council.” Davison nodded to a man who sported brown skin, tight black curls, and even darker eyes. He made a fist with his right hand and placed it over his heart, but his eyes stayed hard and unrelenting. “Sergio Vargas, Earthmover.”

“I’m Airmaster Jones,” another man said, sweeping dark hair off his forehead. I couldn’t help but wonder if all Airmasters had the same devilish glint in their eyes. Jones grinned at me like he owned the world, much the same way Adam did. “I have a report for you about Mr. Adam Gillman’s whereabouts for the past thirty-six hours.”

“In a minute, Jones,” Davison said. He gestured to another man, whose gray hair hung over his shoulders in wisps. “My Unmanifested, Larry Stein.” With another wave of his hand, Davison indicated the woman on his left. Auburn ringlets hung down her back. Her emerald eyes pinned me with a look of…pity? Compassion? Jealousy?

“And Susanna Houston, Watermaiden and wife to Airmaster Jones.” She bowed her head in silent acknowledgement before turning her porcelain face to Davison.

His words ignited the furious inferno churning inside. So that’s how I’d be introduced from now on. “Gabriella Kilpatrick, Firemaker and wife to Airmaster Gillman.”

My first thought: No thank you.

My second: Hot blazes, there’s no way out of that. If it wasn’t “wife to Airmaster Gillman,” it would be “wife to the Unmanifested Hanai Tavar.”

At least for now.

“All of the Elementals have pledged to Gabriella,” Susanna said in her perfect Watermaiden tone. “Airmaster Gillman signed when he woke up this afternoon.” She slid a paper across the table to Davison.

He barely glanced at it before meeting my gaze again. “Airmaster Jones, please report on Mr. Gillman’s disappearance.”

The Airmaster brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I found him in an abandoned warehouse, unconscious and broken. He claims he does not know what happened, but the location is a known enemy hideout. The sentries from Tarpulin are often found there.”

“Not anymore, of course,” Davison said. “We’re clearing them from the city.”

“Of course,” Jones said. “Nevertheless, I believe he went willingly to the warehouse, but whether he knew what would happen to him there, I don’t know.”

“Did you find any Tarpulin sentries?” I asked. “Did you see his brother?”

“Adam was the only one present,” Jones said. “We don’t know how he got to the warehouse; he claims not to know.” He shuffled a few papers. “His report is here if you want to see it.” He held it toward me, so I took it. I ran my eyes down the length of it, pretending to read.

When I looked up, Davison asked, “Councilman Kilpatrick, do you accept the loyalty of your Council?”

The question felt weighted. Like a “yes” would be wrong, but so would a “no.”

I said nothing.

“Have you examined the document?” he asked.

I shook my head, determined not to show my nerves in front of the Councilman. Not again. The paper made its way around the table until Larry placed it in front of me.

I “examined” the rows and rows of letters I couldn’t read. At the bottom of the paper, I recognized the names of my Councilmembers. They’d each signed above their printed names. Hanai’s looked like a four-year-old had scratched out the letters, while the others were sweeping and majestic.

I closed my eyes, but the writing burned on my eyelids. “I can’t read,” I muttered.

“You need only fill in the name of your husband,” Davison said, without hearing my embarrassing declaration.

I coughed to hide the double embarrassment creeping into my face. “Husband?”

Only Susanna smiled. “Yes, dear. I believe you have two choices. Catherine has already selected Earthmover Hawking as her husband.”

“You mean Watermaiden Browning has chosen Isaiah. Right?” No one missed the venom in my voice.

Davison settled back in his chair, a resigned look on his face. “Gabriella, we’ve discussed this. For now, this is our law.”

“It’s ridiculous,” I said. My emotions spiraled up, bringing a slow heat with them.

“Nevertheless, all Councils must abide by the rules if they wish to charter.”

“But Alex—”

Davison brought both fists down on the table and stood, his blue eyes filled with fury. “That woman is a disgrace to Firemakers everywhere. And Councilmen. She does not know how to lead the United Territories.”

I stood too, sending my chair scraping across the tiled floor. “And if she had a husband she’d be a better leader? A better Firemaker? A better Councilman?”

Davison’s jaw clenched along with his fists. “I believe—”

“You believe girls can’t do anything,” I spat. “Well, let me tell you something, Councilman. My fire obeys me the same way yours does. My Council consists of the same types of Elementals. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t lead without a man by my side.”

Jones stood, his eyes still hard, and placed his hand on Davison’s arm. “Michael, this is exactly what we want. Let the girl say what she needs to say.”

Davison gestured for me to continue, but I didn’t miss the tightness in his jaw.

“The Supremist is controlling and harsh. And it’s not because she’s a woman,” I said. “Or because she’s unmarried. But because, perhaps, she’s had to fight people like you her whole life.”

I couldn’t believe I’d actually defended the woman who wanted me dead. But I meant it.

A vein twitched in Davison’s neck. He exchanged a glance with Jones before speaking. “Perhaps you are right, Councilman Kilpatrick. It matters not to me. If you want me to sponsor the charter for your Council, you’ll need to choose a husband and sign your name to the only contract we currently have.” He sighed, some of the fight leaving his body. “As I said earlier, things are changing, and I have no doubt you can do something about this law before your marriage will have to be finalized.”

I tore my gaze from his and looked at the paper. My name lay above the others, typed in larger print. I felt the weight of who I was. Of what I was.

The Councilman. Four other people had already signed their names pledging their Elements, their support, their lives, to me.

Davison pushed his chair away from the conference table. “If you do not wish to sign, no problem. My city needs my attention in many ways.”

“Hot blazes,” I swore. I picked up the pen and scratched out my first name in the blank. “Where do I list my—?” I looked up, determined not to say “husband.”

“You have ten years to wed,” Susanna replied. She pointed to the middle of a long paragraph. “And you put his name right here.”

I drew a deep breath, held it, and then released it as I wrote A-D-A-M.

“Time for dinner,” the Unmanifested man said, wrenching the pen from my fingers. The signed contract disappeared, swept up by Councilman Davison as he passed. The room emptied in a matter of seconds and swishing purple robes, with only Susanna lingering in the doorway.

I stayed in the same position, frozen and shocked.

Reason: I’d chosen Adam without time to think. My fingers just sort of did it. But Hanai—

“It will be okay, Firemaker.” Susanna sounded like she wanted to smooth the rift between my Council and hers. “Davison has told me much about you. We believe you will be able to enact the changes we need. Don’t give up yet.”

I nodded before the door clicked closed. I wondered how long I had before anyone would notice I was gone. Could I go downstairs, and never come back up? I could find my way back to the orchard and the warehouse. Felix would be delighted to see me, I was sure.

If I ran, no one on my Council would have to go to Tarpulin. I could carry out Davison’s mission by myself.

“Gabby.”

I buried the thoughts of abandoning my friends, lit my fingertips, and turned from the conference table. Hanai’s dark eyes reflected the firelight back to me. His cheeks looked sunken in, his shoulders tense.

“What’s wrong?” Apprehension filled my tired mind. With only minutes until dinner and then the chartering after that, I hoped Hanai wasn’t here to tell me that we couldn’t complete the ceremony.

He glanced over his shoulder. “I think Adam’s still a sentry.” The words barely carried between us. Inside, my fire leaped. I stood there, trying to breathe and think at the same time. Hanai put one hand on my shoulder. His touch smoldered. I pushed back the memory of his mouth on mine.

“Still a sentry?” I repeated.

“I can feel his soul.” Desperation filled Hanai’s words. He retreated around the table, putting a respectable distance between us. “Councilman Kilpatrick, as your Unmanifested Councilmember, I’m advising you that Adam is not who he says he is.”

I stiffened at his formal Council speech. Something told me this concerned more than how his soul felt about mine.

A thick ball of embers lodged in my stomach. Questions built in my mind about who Adam was, and what he’d been doing when he wasn’t with us.

Fact: I’d chosen wrong. I didn’t want the hot, striking guy who said what I wanted to hear. I wanted the one who provided the safety I needed in what was and would always be a tumultuous life.

Questions: Could I fix that? Could I change Adam’s name to Hanai’s?

“Who is he?” I asked, managing to subdue the rising fire.

He drew in a deep breath. “I think he’s still a sentry. I felt a wave of deception so strong it lured me out of my bedroom. I followed the sensation until I was standing outside his door. He was talking to someone—someone not in the room.”

I covered my mouth in astonishment, and so I wouldn’t puke. “Adam had a phone?”

Hanai blinked, swallowed, and nodded.

“Holy infernos.” I paced, trying to sort through what that meant. “Did you hear what he said?”

“I couldn’t. He was talking really softly.”

What I concluded: Adam was still a sentry. He’d met up with his buddies while I’d been here, worrying about him and pledging to Davison that I’d march to Tarpulin and lure the woman who wanted me dead out into the open. He could’ve gone willingly to the warehouse, made plans, and then had the other sentries beat him so it would look like he wasn’t with them.

“His soul felt black. Emotionless.”

Emotionless. Like a sentry. Like how I needed to feel.

I looked down into Hanai’s desperate eyes. “Tell me what to do.”

He pulled me into a hug that nearly broke my back, but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s stop the ceremony,” I whispered. “Cat and Isaiah will understand.”

Hanai held me at arm’s length. “We can’t. You need the protection of the charter. We all do.” He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder again.

“Adam could’ve killed us at any time on the way here. On the train, in the tunnels.”

Hanai exhaled loudly. “You’re right, but I think he needs the chartering protection too. Probably more than we know.”

The fire inside clutched my heart with icy fingers. “He has said that more than once.” I realized how desperate my voice sounded, but at this point, I’d grasp anything I could.

“I guess we’ll find out.” Hanai’s meaningful gaze rested on me. Combined with everything else, I couldn’t shoulder the weight of it.

“Hanai, I picked him,” I blurted out. Tears formed in my eyes. “I’m sorry. Davison put me on the spot and—” I stopped, realizing that whatever I said would be classified as an excuse.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “How am I supposed to deal with him? He’ll know we’re… he’ll know who I picked—and trust me, he’ll want to be alone.”

A shadow crept across Hanai’s face. As quickly as it came, it disappeared. Now he only looked as exhausted as I felt. “You’ll have to pretend. Lie.”

“I’m not good at that.”

“You’ll have to be.” Hanai cupped my face in his palm. “I knew you wouldn’t choose me.”

He wasn’t saying it was okay or even that he understood. Surely he didn’t. Blazes, I didn’t understand it. I thought he was trying to say that he simply wanted me to know I had two choices.

I honestly had no idea if I’d made the wrong choice.

Hanai linked his arm through mine and tugged me toward the door. “Let’s go to dinner.”

We entered the dining hall, where the small tables had been replaced by one large table with fifteen chairs. Davison and his Council were already seated, steaming plates of food lining the center of the table. Councilman Ferguson and a handful of additional Councilmen were also there, along with the rest of my Council. Two empty chairs sat between Adam and Isaiah. Hanai nudged me forward and pulled out my chair for me. Adam saw every move, so I settled next to him quickly while Hanai slid beside me.

Candles flickered from their sconces on the walls, and servants loitered near the doorway to the kitchens. This meal felt much more formal than lunch, even though it was in the same room.

Shadows darkened Adam’s eyes. He glared at Hanai, who ignored him and engaged Isaiah in a conversation. I met Adam’s gaze, very aware of the wall of awkwardness between us. I glanced away first.

Cat passed me the roast chicken and potatoes. I piled them on my plate. I kept my mouth full, my eyes down, and my ears open.

The meal passed quickly, and before I knew it, Councilman Davison stood up. “The Council ceremony will begin in one hour. Navy robes and silver pins have been distributed. If you have something special to wear, you may choose that instead.”

“Our Firemaker has something incredibly special to wear to the ceremony,” Adam said.

I locked eyes with him. No blazing way I’m wearing that half-dress thing. I shook my head, but he simply grinned. “And I’ve got some new stuff for the rest of us too. Come on guys, let’s go back to my room.”

Chairs scraped the floor and tore at my nerves. “Gabbers, you gonna wear that dress? Man, I wish I could see.”

“Shut up, Isaiah,” I growled. “You’re lucky you’re blind. Because I’m going to kill Adam with my bare hands, and that won’t be pretty.”

Isaiah laughed as I followed him downstairs. “Lighten up. He just likes you. I’ve heard all about the dress, and how you’re gonna look in it. That boy can talk and talk.”

“This has got to be some kind of sick joke,” I said. Adam disappeared into his room with Hanai right behind. Isaiah lumbered inside, a firm grip on Cat’s hand.

“Cat?” Enough I’m-freaking-out vibes carried in that single word to cause her to turn.

She took one look at my face before whispering to Isaiah and pulling Adam’s door closed. Smiling, she linked her arm through mine. I let her lead me down the hall to our room.

Cat’s gentle presence filled the void in my life, just as it always had. She bustled around the room, lighting lamps and opening bottles of water.

I sat on the end of her bed, twisting my hands.

“Who’d you choose?” she asked, settling next to me and offering me a water bottle.

I took a long drink, hoping to coax the name into speech. “Adam.” Despite the water, the name seared my throat.

“Oh.”

That was all she said. I couldn’t tell if the news upset her or if she thought I’d chosen wrong.

“You have a long time to wed,” she added.

I could only nod my understanding.

She knelt in front of me, forcing me to look at her. “Don’t worry, Gabby. Councils get mixed up all the time. Diplomacy training is fluid; we switch Elementals to find the best fit for our combined powers.” She gripped my hands. “Adam could be reassigned. Hardly anyone marries the initial person they chose when they chartered. It will be okay.”

Her words brought hope. “I’m going to change the law.”

She smiled. “Of course you are.”

“I haven’t told Adam.” The weight of having to tell him—out loud—crushed the air right out of my lungs.

“I talked to him before dinner,” Cat said.

I wiped a hand over my still-shorn hair. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t think we’ll ever be best friends, but things should be okay between us now.”

“What did you and Adam talk about?”

“Just about what happened in Hesterton.”

“Is that another city?” I’d never heard of Hesterton, as I hadn’t been privileged to take geography before becoming a fugitive.

She nodded. “Adam and Felix followed our Council there. Alex had ordered our execution—and anyone who stood in the way.”

“But you and Isaiah, you’re still alive.” I had a million questions, but maybe Cat would simply tell the story.

“Yes, we’re still alive.”

Or maybe not. “Okay, fine. I have to tell you something. Something about Adam. Then you’ll tell me everything between you guys, okay?” I didn’t wait for her consent. I checked the bedroom door to make sure it was locked.

I told Cat everything.

Part 1: What Hanai had said about Adam talking on a phone.

Part 2: How Hanai and I had something going on. Something I couldn’t really name, but existed nonetheless.

Cat listened, her eyes widening in all the right places, her mouth dropping open during the most dramatic parts. Then her eyes took on a knowing glow and she hugged me. “I knew you liked Hanai.”

I waved away the relationship stuff. “What do you know about Adam? I have to know everything, so I can make the best decision.”

She studied me, her beautiful eyes contemplative. “You won’t like it.”

“Like I liked it when you and Isaiah left me alone in Crylon? Or the way I liked it when Jarvis picked my best friend for his Council instead of me?” I crossed my arms. “Trust me, there’s very little I like about my life.”

Cat smiled in her sad way, true empathy etched in the lines around her mouth. “I’m sorry, Gabby. I know things haven’t been easy for you.” She drew in a deep breath. “I watched Adam kill my Councilman by holding his hand over his chest. He smothered him without touching him. No fingerprints. No blood.”

I pressed my eyes closed, trying to erase the image of the dying chicken. He’d killed it the same way. Back then, I’d been terrified, but amazed. Now, my stomach lurched.

Cat touched my arm, and I opened my eyes. “Even as he did it, I knew he didn’t want to. But he wiped away that emotion and did his job. That’s what he said this afternoon. That it was his job, and he didn’t have a choice.”

I laughed, but it sounded like a bark. “Yeah, but he certainly has a choice now, doesn’t he?”

Cat shook her head, a slight fire entering her eyes. “He was right. You don’t understand. You’ve never been on a Council. You’ve never feared for your life. You’ve never pledged—”

“Never feared for my life? What do you think this is? Everyone thinks I’m some sort of freak who can’t do anything. Or worse, they think I’m going to be exactly like Alex. If she doesn’t kill me first.” My breath came too fast. My chest couldn’t expand enough.

Cat sighed. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that, well, as much as I blame Adam for Reggie’s death, it’s not entirely his fault, you know? Now, Felix, he’s heartless.”

My Element flared at the mention of Felix.

“He tried to rape me.” Cat delivered the final blow with short, even syllables.

I bent over, clutching my stomach. My fire raged inside, but I managed to choke out, “Where was Adam?”

“You should ask him.” She refused to say any more. “I need to talk to Isaiah before the ceremony. I’ll be right back to help you get ready.”

After she left, I tried to organize the words I needed to tell Adam that I had chosen him for my Council husband.

Result: [   ]

While I stood in my bedroom, a knock sounded on the door. Adam entered and held up the blue half-dress. “I had it cleaned.”

I glared at a spot over his shoulder. “You wasted your time.”

“Come on. Wear this tonight.” His eyes shone with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t sort through.

My heart thumped when he closed the door. “Leave it on the bed,” I said, turning back to the window. “It’s not going to fit.”

“Oh, it’s gonna fit,” he said with a laugh. He pulled me into a hug. “Are you ready for tonight?”

My skin crawled with his touch—in a good way. He also repulsed me. My Element reacted to my screwed up emotions, and Adam jerked his hands away.

“Sorry.” But I felt better when he wasn’t touching me. My skin cooled.

He tilted his head and studied me. “Everything okay?”

A deep breath settled my nerves further. “Yes. No. I’m just—worried about tonight.”

His mouth creased, like he didn’t believe me.

“Are you ready?” I asked before he could say anything else.

“I’ve waited for a Council for a long time.”

Well, at least we’ve stopped lying to each other, I thought as I watched the late winter sun spit weak light on the city. The shadows lengthened as Adam moved behind me.

I was so conflicted. I liked the way Adam made me feel about myself. But he was still an active sentry. Probably recording everything, waiting for a chance to kill me. Besides, I couldn’t erase the feelings I had for Hanai, and I didn’t want to.

The air in my lungs evaporated. My heart squeezed, squeezed into my throat. I needed to ask Adam about Cat, about Hesterton—

He pulled away. “Tornadoes. You’ve got some raging energy flowing into the air. What’s up?”

I called on my fire and turned around. Both of my fists burst into flames. Adam stepped back, the briefest flash of fear stealing through his eyes. “Honesty policy. What happened in Hesterton?”

Adam’s mouth hardened. “What did Cat tell you?”

“What did you tell her?”

He looked at his hand. “I told her the truth.”

“Tell me, then.”

He sat down, his gaze focused on the floor. “When the Supremist gives orders, you follow them. Or you die.”

His voice lost all emotion as he related his orders to find the rogue Elementals and kill them. When he and Felix found the Council, Reggie—the Councilman—offered himself for the safety of the rest of his Council.

“Alex expected one less Elemental in the world. She got what she wanted.” He met my eye. “I swear I didn’t want to kill him.”

But you still did, I thought. So many other things battled inside. Hanai’s secret. Adam’s tattoo.

“And everyone else on his Council is still alive,” Adam added.

“Where were you yesterday?” I asked. Maybe I could get him to slip and say something contradictory.

“I honestly don’t know.” He touched his ribcage. “I still have the wounds, so I’m guessing not somewhere nice.”

“What were you doing?”

He glanced at me, his expression hooded. “I don’t remember anything after falling twenty stories down an elevator shaft.”

“Where’s your brother?”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Not far away, I’m guessing.”

“What did he do to Cat?”

“I am not my brother.”

“But you were there!”

Adam stood, his eyes unyielding. His anger soared across the space between us, causing my fire to burn hotter.

“I did my job.”

“Blazes,” I swore. “Did he rape her or not?”

“No.”

“You know for sure?”

“Yes. Like you said, I was there.”

My fury lessened. I guess if Cat could forgive him, I couldn’t hold Reggie’s death against him. Now all I had was Hanai’s story about Adam’s phone conversation and the flicker of a black line I’d seen on his back.

Which meant I had nothing. Or did I?

“Are you done interrogating me?” Adam glared, his words biting into my conflicted emotions.

“For now.”

The tension drained from the room, leaving me exhausted and Adam’s shoulders slanted.

“I’m sorry, Gabby. I’ve tried to tell you about Hesterton a hundred times.”

I inhaled, trying to think. “Maybe we just need more time. In a day or two—”

“I don’t have a day or two,” Adam snapped. The air turned icy, and a glacial breeze cascaded over my skin. “Sorry,” he murmured, sliding into the shadows. “I just need the charter to be in place. I’m worried about Hanai bolting. Isaiah says you haven’t talked to him in days, and…I don’t wanna be controlled by the tattoo anymore.”

I frowned. “I talk to Isaiah. And Hanai isn’t going anywhere. And what do you mean ‘controlled by the tattoo’?”

Adam shivered in the cool air. I snapped my fingers and sent a ball of fire to warm it up. “Well?”

“Nothing. It’s gone now.” He turned to leave.

I lunged across the bed and grabbed his arm. “Is it? Is it really gone? Tell me the truth, Airmaster.”

He looked at me, his eyes the vacant, emotionless pools of a sentry. “Did you see it this afternoon?”

I wanted to scream in his face that I had seen it. That he was a liar, a sentry, a traitor. Instead, I released him and slid off the bed, my focus already out the window again.

“Try the dress on, Gabby.” He opened the door and left.

I noted that he hadn’t answered my question.

I tried on the dress, and it fit—a little too well. “Holy hot blazes,” I muttered.

I gaped at the girl in the bathroom mirror. That person looked so feminine. The navy fabric shimmered in the bright electricity, turning my dark eyes more blue than brown. Tiny straps stretched over my shoulders, revealing my pale skin.

And I had a chest. For the first time that I could remember, I looked like a girl. I stared at her, completely bewildered by what I saw. Was this how Adam saw me? Hanai?

She wasn’t me.

I scrubbed my face and neck, desperate to become myself again. When I looked up, the foreign beauty stared back.

Heaving a sigh, I ran my wet hands over my hair. It stood up in spikes but instead of giving me a boyish appearance, I somehow looked even more fragile. Delicate.

Beautiful.

My pulse raced along with a river of fire through my veins.

I couldn’t go to the chartering ceremony in that dress. Turning around to find something to change into, I almost slammed into Cat. She wore a gorgeous burgundy dress with white lace at the collar and cuffs. It showed all the right curves, but not too much. She’d always been pure girl and actually looked comfortable in the monstrosity of a dress.

“Gabby, honey,” she breathed. “Oh, you’re so beautiful. Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

I laughed, but it wasn’t happy. More like maniacal. “No blazing way.”

“Why not? You look wonderful. The blue really compliments your skin.”

“Yes, it does,” Adam said from behind her. He wore black slacks with a starched white shirt. His tie—navy—hung loose around his neck. His eyes traveled over my body several times.

I squirmed. This sucked. I didn’t want him looking at me like that. Maybe yesterday, I would’ve liked it. Maybe I would have even wanted him to. But not today.

“It looks better than I imagined, Gabby. That bulky sweatshirt never did you justice.”

“Shut up,” I growled. “I’m not wearing it. It’s too tight.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to fit,” he argued.

“How would you know? Are you familiar with women’s clothing?”

He smiled. “I know what looks good. And you, my Firemaker, look good.”

“She looks beautiful,” Cat corrected, her voice dripping with disdain.

I glared at her too. Couldn’t she see she wasn’t helping?

“I mean, if you like it, Gabby,” she said. “I don’t care what you wear tonight.”

“Good. Because I’m wearing jeans. I can’t even breathe in this thing.”

Adam increased the airflow in the bathroom. “Better?”

“No,” I said, even though it was. I pushed past him.

“Come on.” Adam drew me into a tight hug. I let him because I thought it might give me away if I torched his traitorous hide. Hanai appeared in the doorway as I stood stiffly in Adam’s arms.

“What’s going on?” he asked, pausing in the motion of tying his necktie.

Adam stepped to the side, sliding his hand around my back. “Gabby doesn’t want to wear the dress.”

Hanai’s eyes widened, and he stared much too long. In all the wrong places. Stupid. Blazing. Boys.

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah,” he squeaked. “You look great. You should definitely wear that.”

“Hanai!”

Adam laughed. “Right on.” He and Hanai slapped hands like brothers. When did they become best friends? Where was the I’m-freaking-out-because-Adam’s-soul-is-so-dark Hanai?

They laughed. Stared some more.

I barely contained the river of fire flowing through my veins. I stalked back into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I paced, wondering what to do. Arguing ensued in the bedroom. A gust of wind rattled the door. Cat sang one high note.

Then, silence.

Cat knocked. “They’re gone.”

When I opened the door, she stood there in her navy blue robes, shoeless.

Perfect.

“I need a minute to change,” I said.

“The dress looks nice, Gabby. You’re the Councilman. You should wear it.”

I snorted. “Did you see the way those two animals were looking at me? Would you want them to look at you like that?”

She wrung her hands and studied the floor. “No.”

“Okay, I’m going to change into my Council robes too. Wait for me?”

“Sure.”

After I changed, I felt so much more like myself. My fire leaped before settling in my stomach. Cat linked her arm through mine, and we walked upstairs to Davison’s conference room. The table had been pushed to one end, and five chairs made a wide V in the center of the room.

Councilman Davison stood near the door, wearing his purple robes and a well-placed scowl. Susanna bowed to me as I entered the room. Jones brought his head down briefly, but Larry—the Unmanifested—dropped to one knee. Cat laced her fingers through Isaiah’s and together, they bowed.

“Stop it,” I said, embarrassed by their formality.

Adam smiled—genuine and fierce—and knelt, with Hanai next to him. They all wore the navy Council robes over their clothes.

Heat rose through my body, flaming in my face. “I mean it, get up.”

Hanai grinned and crossed the room in a few long strides. He hugged me, and I melted into his embrace. “You look wonderful. I’m so glad you didn’t wear that dress.”

Adam folded his arms and turned to Jones. The chatter in the room started again, and I allowed Hanai to lead me behind a row of couches to the window.

The snow drifted in lazy patterns, unconcerned about the chartering ceremony about to take place. I envied it.

I couldn’t quiet my heart as I twisted my hands around each other. Adam laughed, his head thrown back, his sandy curls falling away from his face. I leaned against the glass and closed my eyes.

I remembered the first time I met him, how he’d helped me climb out of the top of the cave, the way his hand felt in mine. I sighed and opened my eyes again. The glass had fogged over.

Hanai watched me, but I looked everywhere except at him. Everyone seemed to be here. Just as I cleared my throat to ask what we were waiting for, the door opened.

I stifled a scream and ducked behind the couch until I could barely see over the top of it.

Felix entered the room, his eyes darting right and left.

Hanai took a few slow steps away to put distance between us.

“Councilman Davison,” Felix sneered in his bass voice. “I believe we have some items to discuss.”

“You thought wrong.” Davison’s response came as sharp as steel. “I shall ask you to leave just once, sentry. You will die if I have to ask again.”

Felix laughed without happiness. “I’m an invited guest to this ceremony. You cannot force me to leave. I will wait until the proceedings are over. Then I have some business with the new Councilman—oops, I mean Councilwoman. Where is she?”

Isaiah asked the question threatening to erupt from my mouth. “An invited guest?”

A smug smile marred Felix’s face. “Yes. My dear brother asked me here specifically. Didn’t you, Adam?” His words dripped with poisoned honey.

I expected Adam to swear, call his brother a hideous name, and summon the wildest tornado in history. Instead, he said, “I did.”

I ducked lower, closed my eyes, and tried to remember how to breathe through the betrayal.

“Where is she, Hanai?” Adam asked.

“Cat’s standing right there, next to Isaiah.”

“Don’t play games,” Adam growled. A sound of ripping cloth filled the room. Isaiah swore, and Cat cried out. “That’s right. I’m still a sentry. Hanai knew. I’m sure he told Gabby. Where is she?”

“Can’t you hear her mind?” Hanai asked, his voice even. “You have gifts you haven’t divulged.”

Hear my mind? Meaning…?

At that moment, I understood what Adam meant about the air thickening with tension. I choked when he peered over the couch, his beautiful face twisted into a sick smile.

“Come out, Gabriella. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Flames erupted in my palms, and I clenched my fists to quench them. Sweet smoke wafted up, but it couldn’t calm my rage.

Because Adam now wore his black sentry clothes. The ripping sound made sense when I spied his torn Council robes on the floor. My fury increased at the sight before me.

Davison and his Council had gathered together in a tight bunch near the door. None of them looked remotely afraid. Probably because they knew their deaths had consequences, and that their chartering bond had already increased their powers.

Adam sauntered across the room and stood next to his brother. “I insist the ceremony continue.”

I shook my head, my jaw clenched. No blazing way I’d accept his pledge.

“You will accept my pledge, Firemaker,” Adam said. “You all will.”

Felix laughed. “You’re too noble, brother. Let’s kill them now; no one will dare—” His remaining words were washed away in a torrent of water as Cat unleashed a high note.

I leaped over the couch and ran toward Hanai. I grabbed his hand, and then latched onto Isaiah.

“You with me, Earthmover?” I asked as the water ran off the two sentries.

“Yes,” he whispered, his unseeing eyes wide. “What’s Adam thinking?”

“I think he’s been thinking for all of us, for a long time,” I whispered back. “Stay with me, okay?” His tight squeeze didn’t ease my panic.

Felix dripped water onto the floor, but Adam was bone dry, his hair steaming as he dried it with his Element. “Please, Gabriella,” he begged, his voice small and desperate. “The charter is all I can offer you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Oh, come on, you idiot girl,” Felix sneered, splashing water as he waved his hand. “He’s offering you protection by chartering the Council. It was his only stipulation. It seems my brother has gone and gotten himself involved. He’s—”

“The charter offers me protection as well, Felix,” Adam said, his voice now as sharp as his knives.

I watched as they glared at one another, silently battling through some old sibling argument I didn’t care about.

Felix turned back to me. “Well? Are we continuing or not?”

“We need a minute,” Hanai said, stepping in front of me and forming a huddle. “Okay, as much as I hate to say it, he’s right. We should complete the charter. Members can be replaced, bonds rebuilt, choices remade. So…what do you think?”

“Pledge to Adam? Are you insane?” I shot a death look over Hanai’s shoulder to the traitor in black. “He’s been using us.”

Isaiah sighed. “Yeah, but Hanai’s right. We’ll be protected with the chartering. I’ve experienced it; all our powers will be enhanced.”

“Cat?” I asked.

“I don’t want to die,” she said.

A small part of me did. The part that belonged to Adam. Not the sentry-Adam, but the kind, sweet guy who helped me survive, dodge through the woods, and hide my gender.

“Okay, fine,” I snapped. “Let’s be a blazing Council.” I stepped in front of Hanai and faced Adam. “Did you hear that, Airmaster? We’ll accept your pledge.” I thought some really rude things about him, knowing he could somehow hear my thoughts.

Surprise colored his eyes for only a moment before he smothered the emotion under his sentry mask. I tensed, thinking about what Adam must’ve heard inside my head. My opinions of him. How I felt about Hanai. What I thought were secrets really weren’t. Nothing had ever been private.

“Please, Gabby.” Adam stepped forward, something like regret shining in his eyes. It only served to ignite my anger again.

“Don’t talk to me,” I spat through clenched teeth. I wished I could communicate with my Council mentally. There were only two sentries, and four of us + Davison’s Council. Maybe we could—

“You can’t,” Adam said, reading my mind. “True, there are only two sentries in this room….”

His implication caused the anger boiling in my stomach to recede. See, I’d seen Adam use a knife—and his Element. Felix was certainly no amateur.

“Councilman Davison, we’re ready,” Adam purred. “Where do you want us?”

He directed Hanai to a chair at the end of the V-shaped line of chairs. Cat sat next to him, while I moved with Isaiah to the other side. Adam sat next to him, which left the front chair—the leading chair—for me.

I flinched as I sat down. The lemony smell of Adam, once so comforting, now punched me in the gut. I stared straight ahead and tried to block everything out. My fingertips smoked, and that helped clear Adam’s scent from my nose.

The ceremony passed in a blur of words and colors and the delicious smoke. Only when Hanai said, “Yes, sir,” did I snap back to attention. Something sharp tugged in my gut.

“Catherine Browning, do you pledge to serve the Firemaker, your Councilman, Gabriella Kilpatrick with your Element of water?”

“Yes, sir,” she said in a loud, clear voice. When the pull happened a second time, I realized it was the magic, binding us together. I looked at Hanai, and his face was radiant. Cat glowed, her eyes filled with friendship. I felt strangely more connected to them than I had previously.

“Isaiah Hawking, do you pledge to serve the Firemaker, your Councilman, Gabriella Kilpatrick with your Element of earth?” Davison’s voice sounded like it came from underwater.

“All the way, Gabbers.”

A rushing noise filled the room; I felt a pulse of power coat my skin. I took a deep breath, smelling flowers and mud. The sensation in my core grew taut, pulling me toward Isaiah, toward Cat, toward Hanai. Deep inside, my fire felt refreshed. Brighter somehow.

Davison watched me, his eyes seemingly asking if I was okay. I nodded.

“We all know this is meaningless,” he said. “But the ceremony is not complete unless I ask. Adam Gillman, do you pledge to serve the Firemaker, your Councilman, Gabriella Kilpatrick with your Element of air?”

“Always,” Adam murmured. This time the tugging became painful, almost drawing me up and out of my chair. I closed my eyes, allowing the magic to pulse and chase through the room. I felt like I could control air, and earth, and water, and fire, and spirit. I felt untouchable.

Davison recited the pledge that finished the chartering. Hanai joined his voice to the words on the second time through. By the fifth time, my voice vibrated through the room, not just through my throat.

“We pledge to serve each other honorably, following the rules of the Elements, and supporting each other in word, thought, and deed.” As the pledge echoed through the room, I knew that my Council would protect me, their Firemaker, even at their own cost. I knew my fire couldn’t hurt them, that Adam’s Element couldn’t harm any of us.

As quickly as the chartering magic had arrived, it fled, leaving me gasping for breath in my seat.

Davison’s voice shook as he said, “I declare you an Elemental Council of five, with the rights, powers, and privileges of the Supreme Elemental. Good luck to you all.”

Hanai appeared at my side in the next moment, pulling me away from Adam. “Isaiah, here,” he called.

Adam gripped Isaiah’s forearm as he tried to pass. Felix hauled Cat screaming over to Adam. “Right, we’re leaving,” Adam said. “We’ve got some business to take care of. Felix, I’m taking the hovercraft.” Adam shoved Isaiah out the door and held a knife in Cat’s face. “Shut it, kitten. This’ll be easier if you just cooperate.”

Tears poured down her face when she looked at me. My fire consumed me in my rage, leaking from my fingertips in uncontrolled wisps.

“Gabriella Kilpatrick, you’re under arrest for the murder of seventeen Elemental students in the city of Crylon.” Felix’s grimy fingers clawed at my wrists, securing them with metal rings.

Elemental cancellers.

What I felt: My very soul being sucked away. I shivered as my firepower faded.

“By order of the Supreme Elemental, Alexandra Pederson, you are ordered to appear before the Elemental Council in the city of Tarpulin three days from now, on the twenty-first day of the third month.”

I squirmed away from his touch, my Element shooting to my extremities where the cancellers absorbed it. I bit down hard so I wouldn’t whimper at the loss.

Felix smirked, a glint of danger in his eyes. “Adam, take them away. I’ll meet up with you in Cornish.” His chauvinistic gaze left me hollow inside.

I tore my eyes from his and looked toward Adam. Davison’s Council had been flanked by men in black, a silent swarm of ants who had suddenly crawled from the walls. Cat’s mouth was taped, same with Susanna’s. Neither of them struggled; their hands hung loosely in cancellers.

Blood leaked from Isaiah’s mouth and nose. His hands were bound tightly.

Councilman Davison took a step forward. “Felix, you will—”

Felix raised one hand casually, almost like he was going to brush the hair out of his eyes. It came up with something silver and glinting. He pointed the gun at Davison. Felix’s throaty laugh extinguished any idea I harbored of escape.

“You were saying?” he asked.

A chorus of silence filled the room.

“You should take care of your business, brother,” he said to Adam, the steely weapon unwavering. “I’ll deal with these traitorous Councilmen.”

“Felix—” In that one word, Adam sounded unsure, desperate.

“Go.” Felix half-turned, and I scanned the room for Hanai. He was gone. A tendril of hope flared inside.

Adam barked a command, and the sentries herded Davison’s Council, along with Cat and Isaiah, through the door. Adam followed, casting one last glance at me before the door swung closed.

“Now it’s just you and me, Gabby,” Felix said, his hand smoothing over my hair. I tried not to, but I cringed away from his touch.

He chuckled, his eyes starving, wanting. “No, not just yet. But you will be begging for me soon enough, Firemaker.” His breath cascaded over my chin and neck as he moved closer. His mouth crushed mine, sickening me.

I bit down hard, tasting his blood. He pulled away, wiping his mouth, an angry spark in his eyes now. “That wasn’t very smart.”

I spit in his face, pink droplets spattering his cheeks and mouth, along with a healthy dose of angry flames.

With a roar, he swung up. The clash of metal with my jaw sent a rainbow-colored explosion through my brain. The very solid floor cracked against my cheekbone. The pain was immediate and strong; it almost numbed my face.

Felix leaned over, his rank breath in my nostrils again. “Definitely not a very smart girl.” He tasted of my lips again, and a blinding pain coursed through my jaw. The fire seeped out through the wound, sparked from the gashes on my wrists. Away it floated until I was cold, icy cold, and still Felix had his mouth on mine.

An edge of darkness crept into my awareness. A whisper. Then another crushing blow, this time to the back of my head, and all turned black.

Jarvis’s face, all dark beauty and sharp angles, swam through a midnight sky. We walked in the forest. We ran. We talked. Laughed. Held hands.

He looked at me with something akin to love in his gaze. Then he kissed me. I kissed him back. When I pulled away, it wasn’t Jarvis anymore.

Adam’s sandy curls rested against his eyebrows, and a sparkle decorated his eyes. We shared a secret, one that bonded us.

I blinked, and Adam became Hanai. Dark, brooding, beautiful Hanai.

I wanted to place them each on a separate shelf inside my heart. But Jarvis had chosen someone else even while he was kissing me. That flame had been snuffed out months ago.

Adam was a sentry one second, my Airmaster the next. I couldn’t trust him. I wanted to, but doing so would be suicide.

Hanai and I probably could’ve had a future together in some other place, at some other time.

So even as I watched, helpless inside my own nightmare, Hanai’s face dissolved away.

Something dry cracked in my throat. Blood. I swallowed, desperate to coat the dryness. A voice spoke. Unfriendly. The steady rhythm of movement beneath me lulled me back into the soft folds of sleep despite the chill seething in my joints.

When I came to again, the sky bled a mixture of pink and orange. Crisp and clear, the air burned in my lungs. I tried to sit up, but found my hands tied above my head, preventing me from rising more than a few inches.

Something—no, someone—warm lay next to me. I turned and found Felix. I started, trying to widen the gap between us. His heavy hand was draped across my stomach. He groaned when I moved but didn’t wake up.

I cocked my head. My hands were secured to a pole in the ground. My wrists wept blood, the flesh raw and broken. Strangely, that pain didn’t register. But my shoulders ached from their rotated position. My back hurt. My jaw throbbed.

None of my injuries compared to the fury that accompanied Adam’s betrayal. The thought of him in those black clothes, wielding his sentry knife, brought the contents of my stomach churning to the surface.

I turned away before I retched, partly wishing I’d spewed on Felix. But I felt certain the next time I defied him, I’d get more than a broken jaw.

Felix stirred. “I’m freezing.” He reached for me again, but I slithered out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me.” I struggled against the bindings. “Untie me.” The cancellers were gone. If only I could find a spark. As soon as I thought it, heat surged through my veins.

He stretched and wiped a hand over his day-old beard. “You’re in no position to make demands, girl.”

Smoke poured from my palms. Felix cursed and scrambled toward his pack. I pressed the fire, willing it to burst into flames. It ignored me. The cancellers had serious lasting effects.

And then Felix held the metal rings against my skin. The smoke cleared. The piercing cold snatched my very breath.

Felix snarled as he slid the cancellers around my wrists.

“Stop it. Please,” I added.

He smiled, revealing stained teeth. “That’s more like it.”

I turned away from his hungry expression. His hands lingered along my waist. My ribs. My chest. I swallowed a sob, determined not to let him know how much he was hurting me.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he cupped my face in his palm. “You do possess a natural beauty, Gabriella.” His voice sounded soft, almost like Adam’s.

My stomach lurched again, already empty. Felix brought his lips to mine, and I went limp. Thankfully, he stopped after only a moment. “You’re no fun.”

He got up and began breaking camp. I couldn’t stop shaking from the cold indignation spreading through my body. Couldn’t open my eyes. Behind my closed lids, I saw the gun in my face, the needful look in Felix’s eyes. I heard how desperate Adam had sounded before he left.

“We better get moving,” Felix said. “Adam took the hovercraft to return Isaiah and Cat to Tarpulin faster. Alex has been asking for them. I hate walking, but at least it’ll generate some heat. It’s never been so cold this late in the year.”

The visions and voices in my head evaporated. I didn’t think I’d ever be warm again. He released the ropes binding me to the pole and pulled me to my feet. My legs felt weak and spindly. Without meaning to, I leaned into him.

He held me tightly, like a lover. I shoved him away, an angry spark igniting inside. “I said not to touch me.”

His eyes deadened. He threw a fold of cloth on the ground. “Eat. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

He strode away, disappearing into a stand of trees maybe a hundred feet away. In front of me, endless plains of snow stretched toward the horizon.

I knelt and collected the cloth, cursing the ropes and cancellers still keeping my wrists captive. Breakfast became a scrap of bread, a whisper of cheese, and a small apple. I ate quickly, keeping my eyes trained on the grove. I used my torn robes to tend to my wrists, wiping at the blood. The cancellers slid, slick with the mess.

I realized Felix hadn’t fastened them. They squelched easily over my hands and dropped to the ground.

I whirled around, reached for my Element, and found it lurking in the pit of my stomach. I summoned it, pleading with the fire to erupt.

It didn’t. Smoke billowed from my hands. “Please.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Hot blazing infernos. I conjured up the image of such a thing. Felt the heat. Inhaled the luxurious smoke. I opened my eyes to a meager showering of sparks fluttering to the ground.

“Hey!”

I spun. Felix stood at the edge of the trees, his widened eyes clearly visible.

I sprinted toward the endless fields of snow. Legs of fire shot from my palm, melting the snow enough for me to cross over somewhat muddy ground. But I needed Adam to refreeze the melted water into ice, into something Felix couldn’t simply follow.

His thundering footsteps gained on me. His breath haunted me. Even, in and out. I couldn’t outrun him, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him to rape and kill me either.

I ran as hard as I ever have. I weaved left, then right. Poured waves of fire. Felix mimicked my every move.

Then my fire quit. The world frosted over, sending the chill deep into my soul.

I barreled into the snowdrift, struggling through it like it was waist-high water.

Still Felix followed. His mad, thrashing sounds were punctuated by the panting of his breath—and the galloping of my own heart.

He crashed into me, sending me face-first into ice crystals. My skin felt like a thousand needles had punctured it.

“Stupid girl.” Felix retied the rope around my wrists while I struggled against his massive weight. I couldn’t hold back the torrent of tears as the existing wounds reopened.

He yanked me upright and spun me around. His eyes glinted in the dim light with a hint of murder. His breath came in cold spurts, and his cheeks held a ruddy quality beneath his whiskers.

He clamped the Elemental cancellers over my wrists, tightening them one notch beyond comfort. The enhanced metal robbed me of all hope, every flicker of fire.

Felix removed something from his pocket and shook it. Then a black cloth drenched my face, plunging me into darkness so absolute I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or not. He cinched the bag around my neck, sealing me in with only my exhaled breath and my thoughts.

“Let’s go.” Felix tugged on my shoulder, and I stumbled forward so I wouldn’t fall.

“Why can’t we catch a train or something?” My voice sounded so loud inside the bag.

“Adam is escorting your little friends to Tarpulin in the only available hovercraft.”

“I thought Alex wanted me,” I said. Not that I really wanted to arrive at death’s footstool earlier, but taking Cat and Isaiah instead of me didn’t make much sense. If either one of them lost so much as an eyelash, Adam would pay.

“She does,” Felix said. “But my brother and I have a little arrangement to meet in Cornish before delivering you to Tarpulin.”

Cornish? I couldn’t form the word in my mouth so it merely echoed in my head. It took great concentration to put one foot in front of the other, but I found when I focused on the anger coursing through me, walking became easier. I imagined the horrible things I’d say to Adam when I next saw him.

Felix’s arm slithered around my back, pulling me into his body and making the wicked thoughts vanish. I recoiled from the unwanted touch. “Don’t worry, we can’t walk all the way to Tarpulin.”

My tongue felt too thick to fit in my mouth. Felix made me walk along the road for what felt like forever—surely we had gone all the way to Tarpulin.

Time didn’t exist in the dark. Life faded away. When Felix finally said stop, I fell to the ground, frozen, but uncaring.

When he removed the hood, a few bright spots peeked through the darkness. For a moment, the earth swayed. Then I sucked down a fresh lungful of air and my vision cleared.

“Eat.” Felix thrust something at me, but I couldn’t get my stiff fingers to respond fast enough to catch it. The lump of cheese landed in the mud. I didn’t care. Taste didn’t matter anymore.

I drank greedily from the skein he passed me. Some of the life came back into my body, but no warmth. I couldn’t stand the way my fingertips ached with cold, how they tingled as I rubbed feeling back into them. The fierce wind bit at my face and stung the corners of my eyes. How did people live like this all the time?

Felix dumped a pile of kindling at my feet. “If you play nice, I’ll take off the cancellers.”

“And the ropes.” I glared up at him.

“And the ropes.” His words came out with hovering white clouds. He pressed his hands to his mouth and exhaled. I realized he was as cold as me—and possibly willing to do anything to get a fire going.

“And you’ll bandage my wounds,” I said. “My fire leaks when I’m cut.”

He balled his fists. “Can you light a fire?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. It’s pretty cold. And I’m injured.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Then I can light the fire,” I said, hoping I actually could.

Felix unclasped the cancellers and tucked them in his coat pocket, never taking his distrustful gaze from me. He cut the ropes, and I watched them fall to the ground.

Our eyes met in a lingering moment of silence.

My fire burned cold. A single spark leaped from the gash on my left wrist. The sight of my own blood made the flimsy bite of cheese feel too heavy in my stomach.

Felix tossed me a strip of cloth, which I held while he took my other hand and bound it. His hands were freezing and heavy, without a touch of gentleness. Still, I let him dress my wounded wrists.

Finished, he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Light it.” He supervised, his cold eyes glinting with silver moonlight.

I knelt next to the pile of wood and rearranged it so the smaller sticks were at the bottom. Familiar power surged through my limbs, curling, pulsing to get out. I held my palms over the wood.

Nothing happened.

I pressed my hands to my face, trying to borrow some warmth. Terror flowed freely at what Felix might do if I couldn’t light the fire. I blew into my hands, but even my breath felt icy. Again, I visualized a roaring bonfire, and still nothing happened.

Felix growled deep in his throat.

“Just give me a second,” I said, hating how desperate I sounded. “You kept those blazing cancellers on all day. But I can do this.”

I balled my fists, squeezing every ounce of energy I had left into my core. When I splayed my hands over the wood, finally, finally a stream of weak flames dripped from my hands.

The wood caught them like they were old friends being reunited, and together they danced into a blazing fire. Smoke wafted up, rich and delicious, filling the empty spaces in my soul. I leaned over the fire and breathed the smoke into the deepest parts of my body.

“Watch it,” Felix warned. “Your clothes will catch the flame.”

I sat back and patted out the smoldering spark on the hem of my filthy Council robes. Felix laid out two bedrolls and motioned me over. “No funny stuff, or I’ll never take the ropes off again.”

I only considered fleeing for two seconds. But I’d never outrun him. And then I’d never see the sun or sleep without restraints.

So I lay down and let Felix form his body into mine. “Ah, you’re warm.”

His unwanted touch set me on edge. I couldn’t relax with him so close. His breathing deepened, and his snores filled the empty sky long before I fell into welcome unconsciousness.

Nothing existed in my dreams except heat. Sweat beaded along my forehead; my robes felt heavy with moisture. I rolled, only to find another source of heat lying next to me. With foul breath.

I twisted, and my internal temperature cooled. Still, I had to get away from Felix’s exhaust fumes. My fingers brushed the shards of grass next to the bedroll. Instant fire burned through my skin.

I woke fully, realizing something important was happening. I pressed my palm into the frosty grass. I felt a burning inferno coming from the earth.

I sucked it into me, feeling the rush of lava, the heat of heavy pressure. My flesh felt like it might melt from my bones. Before the fire could consume me, I pushed it away, back into the ground.

The grass surrounding my hand lay moist and warm. I tucked my hand inside my robes, cataloging this new facet of my Element.

I can control more than just fire, I thought.

The weight of Felix’s hand on my waist didn’t feel so heavy as I settled back to sleep.

Morning dawned frigid and fast. Felix secured the cancellers around my wrists, letting my arms hang in front of my body. Without my Element, I felt every whisper of wind—and they were more like wails.

He bustled around, packing his bag and preparing breakfast—if another hunk of cheese could be called a meal. It could, and I ate it all.

We trudged through the muck close to the trees until they petered out. Nothing existed except snow and sky, with a lone ribbon of road trailing into the horizon.

Holy blazes, it was cold. Though my Element was only several months old, it felt like a crucial part of me. I craved the fire inside the same way my body craved food and water. Without it, I felt like I’d lost part of my soul.

We walked. And walked. And walked. Thoughts of my friends were fleeting and frail. The drudgery of taking one more step, inhaling one more time, surviving one more minute, didn’t allow space for thinking. By nightfall, I moved with my eyes closed.

“Finally,” Felix muttered, his voice heavy with relief.

I jerked my eyes open and saw the most beautiful sight: Candlelight. The yellow glow shone through a few lonely windows of the village we approached. I balked at entering Cornish—they were involved in Davison’s rebellion. Surely they wouldn’t take kindly to Felix, a Tarpulin sentry. A spark of terror ignited inside, but I had no fire to respond.

No matter what, candlelight meant life. It meant I wouldn’t be sleeping on the hard ground. It meant I might find a way to escape from Felix.

That hope fled when he ordered me to stop. He released the cancellers, tucking them in his backpack before rewrapping my wrists with strips of grimy cloth.

As soon as he finished, I yanked away from his touch and pulled down my sleeves. He glared, but it didn’t hold its usual hatred. Lines of exhaustion crowded around his eyes. Maybe I could—

“Try anything funny, and you die. Cornish is on high alert.” He tossed me a cloak. “Put this on to cover those robes. We’ll be going around to a house on the south side of the village. Not a word to anyone. Got it?” His voice carried enough venom to chase away the momentary thought of escape. A flash of silver peeked from the backpack. Felix stroked the firearm almost lovingly.

I managed to nod without looking in his eyes. I pulled the cloak over my Council robes, relishing the new warmth. I caught glimpses of dark streets illuminated by pockets of light. I saw bodies darting through the streets with their heads lowered. Occasionally, I saw a guard standing still, looking toward the wilderness. I didn’t want them to see us, but at the same time, I wished they would.

Felix hurried me around the village. From a safe distance, we passed glowing homes with smoke curling from chimneys, but just as many sitting cold and dark. Felix clucked to himself as we continued walking. He paused and looked behind him, then quickened his step. A few minutes later, he stopped near a run-down shack that might have been painted yellow in the far-distant past.

“This is it,” he whispered. “We have to go in the front. Nothing funny now.”

Around the front of the house, shutters hung by one hinge. The missing door left a gaping black hole in the wall. The glass had long since broken, now lying in shards on the porch. It crunched in unison with the groaning wood under Felix’s heavy sentry boots. I climbed the steps uncertainly. The rotting wood didn’t look like it could hold my weight in combination with Felix’s.

Something in his pocket beeped. He pulled out a black box and spoke into it. “Felix, in. Status?”

A tinny voice came through the device. It sounded like Adam, but the dark doorway swallowed the words as Felix entered the house. When I stepped on the porch, it squeaked in protest.

“Hurry up,” Felix called. “I need some light.”

I stared a hole in the back of his head, hating him for demanding that I use my Element when it suited him. With a sigh, I glanced left and then right before snapping my fingers. Nothing happened. Fierce panic sliced into my stomach. Fury formed from the ashes of anxiety, and my fire came roaring back. It filled my toes, my belly, my blood. I let it rise, breathing in the sweet return of warmth. Flames erupted from each fingertip, enough to brighten the doorway before I entered.

The inside of the house hadn’t fared any better than the outside. It looked like a tornado had torn through the place. A section of the roof spilled into the room, splattering tiles and planks of wood on the dusty floor.

Anything of value had been carried off, and the room I stood in held a dark bottle, bits and pieces of paper, matted leaves, and a single discarded shoe.

“Come on.” Felix poked his head around the corner, motioning me through another doorway and into a kitchen. The cupboards had been thrown wide, their innards bare. Tin cans lay strewn on the floor as if a child had stacked them up and then knocked them over.

Another door just behind the kitchen entrance led down to a basement. A blast of chilly air coming up the steps stole my breath.

“Down here,” Felix called up the stairs. “There’s a mattress and some blankets.”

Casting one last glance behind me, I moved toward the stairs.

Water had been leaking into the basement for a long time. The damp odor rose from the cement in a disgusting welcome. Deep inside, my Element sputtered.

Even with my fingertips flaming, I didn’t see Felix. The bed lay before me, looking soft and dry. A red blanket with tiny white flowers embroidered around the edge covered it.

I only had a moment to ponder why no one had taken these items before Felix’s wandering hands latched on to me. Slithering from behind, he wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me against his body. I stiffened, trying to coax my fire into a furious inferno.

I simply didn’t have the power.

His mouth stroked my neck; his breath cascaded over my shoulder. “This will be nice, won’t it?” he murmured, removing the cloak and then fumbling with the buttons on my robe. When they didn’t open as fast as he wanted, he yanked.

The metal buttons pinging on the cement sounded like gunshots. Everything seemed too loud. Then my own breathing drowned out all other noise.

Felix spun me around, and by the dying light of my hands, I saw the starvation in his eyes.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Don’t do this.”

He smiled, revealing crooked teeth. “That’s just what she said.” He crushed his mouth to mine, sending a stream of pain through my injured jaw.

I planted both palms on his chest and pushed. Surprisingly, Felix stumbled backward. His shirt smoked where my hands had been. He watched for a moment, smoothed the wisps of smoke away, and then looked back at me.

“You want to use your Element?” he asked, taking a careful step forward. “That’s okay with me. It might even be hot.”

“Who?” I asked, hoping to buy some time. “Who else asked you not to do this?”

Felix stepped closer, untucking his shirt. “Your friend from Crylon. Cat, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t move. My Element recoiled and flattened itself against my ribcage. I balled my fists. “You did rape her.” Finally, my Element burned just as hot as my anger.

Felix laughed. “My job was to kill her. I wanted to have a little fun first. But there was a terrible storm that day. Damn near tore this house apart, with me inside. I got the hell out before the roof caved in.”

“Was Adam with you?” I whispered, desperate to know. Adam had said he was there—that Cat didn’t get hurt.

“He killed the Firemaker, just like he was supposed to. One thing you should know about Adam: He always does his job. He’s a perfectionist. Once he says he’s going to do something, he does it. After we negotiated the Council’s return to Tarpulin, I got another mission in Cornish. Adam accompanied the others back to Tarpulin, just like a good boy. But he followed me here.” The wicked grin creased Felix’s lips again. “That storm was one of the worst in Cornish history, and Adam was caught outside when it hit.”

I stood mute, breathing in the smoke drifting from my fingertips so I could think rationally.

“And she begged,” Felix whispered, moving closer. “Before the storm hit, that pretty little Watermaiden begged. So, Firemaker. Will you beg too?” He caught me around the waist and pulled me into an embrace. His arms trapped both of mine, and I couldn’t use my hands to shove him away.

He kissed me hard as he pushed me backward. I stumbled and braced myself for the fall. Instead of the hard cement, I landed on the bed. Felix was already on top of me, his hands groping, his knees pinning my arms to my sides.

I turned my head and struggled to breathe under his weight. He chuckled as he kissed my neck and ears.

Desperate, I tried to kick. It did nothing. A sob rose up from my belly, escaping as a wail. “Please, stop.”

“Yes, beg me.” Felix’s voice was husky and hoarse. He kissed me again. Powerless to stop him, I stilled. It didn’t bother him this time.

I retreated into a tiny black box inside my head, where nothing hurt and nobody cried.

As he touched me, my body turned hollow and cold. Dirty.

A shrill beep rang in the empty basement. Adam’s frantic voice, tinny and far away, followed it.

Rushing air. A grunt.

Felix fell sideways, his mouth finally releasing mine.

“Gabby!”

The sobs came fast now, consuming my body. I shoved Felix the rest of the way off me and scrambled to Hanai.

He held me as I tried to button my robe with trembling fingers. Finally, he did it for me, only asking for a dim light so he could see enough to fasten the buttons Felix hadn’t ripped.

“Let’s go,” he said rubbing his right fist. “Ouch. He’s got a hard head.”

“And a gun,” I whispered. I scrubbed at my mouth, but it didn’t erase the feel of Felix’s lips.

Hanai moved silently toward the bed. Felix remained still, a smear of dark blood staining his hair above his right ear.

Hanai felt for the gun and came away empty. He rolled Felix and searched on the other side. When his hand rose from the black fabric, he held the glinting weapon. The light from my hands caught in Felix’s open eyes just as I extinguished the flame.

A roar rocked the basement.

A crash.

A gunshot.

I clapped, but my fire did absolutely nothing. “Come on!” I tried again, this time igniting both palms with bright flames and casting an eerie glow on the two men grappling across the room. Neither of them seemed to have a gunshot wound.

Hanai still held the weapon, his fingers white with exertion. Felix had one fist cemented to Hanai’s, trying to wrest the gun away. His other fist pummeled Hanai everywhere. Stomach. Mouth. Shoulder.

I extinguished the flames and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, my therma-vision blinked to life.

Hanai grunted again, his head snapping back with a sickening crunch. Still, he held onto the gun.

Unsure of what to do, I dashed toward the bed, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. But this basement held very little—only the bed and the blanket.

The gun went off again, and I pressed my hands over my ears. Hanai’s wail registered behind my palms, along with Felix’s high, cruel laughter.

I grasped the red blanket on the bed. I flung it over Felix and leaped on his back. Wrapping my arms around his stout middle, I pulled the ends of the blanket behind him and tied them together. My hands should’ve hurt. My wrists hadn’t healed. But I couldn’t feel anything or hear anything. All I knew was that Hanai would die if I did nothing.

Felix swore and thrashed, sending me to the hard cement. The pain in my tailbone barely registered. I swiped his feet out from under him, and he fell amidst a shout of surprise. Tangled in the blanket, he squirmed and kicked. His boot connected with my stomach as he succeeded in flinging off the blanket, and the air in my lungs rushed out.

The therma-vision faded, but I willed it to remain. Gasping for breath, I touched Felix’s ankle. His body heat flooded my senses. My vision returned, my body burned with more heat than I could endure. Still, I didn’t remove my hand. Felix shivered and stilled, his heat now mine.

Carefully, I reached toward his now-limp hand and extracted the gun. It felt so dirty. Even worse than how grimy and used I felt after Felix’s wandering hands and intrusive tongue. My hand shook as I gripped the firearm. The metal held heat from being discharged. Automatically, my body stole the warmth, leaving me nauseated. Guns were so sentry—and that was worse than being a girl.

Hanai stumbled to my side, clutching his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

I sent the gun clattering to the cement where Hanai bent to retrieve it. “We can’t leave him armed,” he panted, pushing me in front of him. “Now, go. I’ll take care of him.”

“Take care of him?” My voice came out too high, scratching through my throat. I wiped my face with a dirty hand. I doubted I would ever feel clean again.

“I’m not going to kill him. Just make it hard for him to follow us.” Hanai groaned, and my gaze shifted from his drawn face to the wound near his elbow. The blood appeared bright crimson in my therma-vision, pulsing in blinding waves of red.

“I’ll do it,” I said. “You go lie down upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Before Hanai could answer, he collapsed. His head thunked against the unforgiving floor. The gun slid toward the far wall.

“Hanai!” I knelt next to him and felt his pulse. I looked up and saw Felix’s pack leaning against the end of the bed.

I quickly crossed to it and pulled out the Element cancellers. After Felix’s hands were bound, I retrieved my knife from his belt, suppressing a shudder when I touched him. I cut a corner from the blanket and sprinted upstairs. The tap in the kitchen spurted out rusty-brown water, but it would have to do.

Downstairs, Felix was awake and struggling against the cancellers. His eyes broadcasted hatred. I dragged Hanai a short distance away and washed the blood off his arm. Once the bullet hole was revealed, I ground my teeth together and focused my Element.

The hot, white light blinded me with the therma-vision on. It clicked off as I pressed my fingertip to Hanai’s arm. Lucky thing he was out cold. The pain from cauterizing the wound would’ve sent him into unconsciousness.

Felix chuckled. “You think you can get him out of here?”

I didn’t answer. Hanai weighed more than me, and those stairs were blazing steep.

In the dark, Felix yelped in triumph—he must’ve gotten free. I scrambled toward the gun, which lay somewhere near the far wall. Groping, sweeping, I desperately searched for the kiss of steel. Felix’s boots came closer, tentative.

I kept my therma-vision off, the panic building into a sob. Felix was so close, I could feel the heat from his body.

“Where are you, sweetheart?” he whispered. I felt the wind as he reached out, feeling in the empty space to locate me.

Finally, my fingers touched the delicious metal. I gripped the gun and stood, blinking on my therma-vision.

Felix stumbled backward when he saw the embers of my eyes. A sick smile twisted his waxy face. He took a step forward.

“I’ll shoot you,” I warned, a storm of emotions raging inside. “Don’t come any closer.”

Felix chuckled quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t think you will, Gabriella. You’re not a killer. You don’t want to be like Adam.”

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. Survival battled with morals. In my head, I heard Adam say, It’s you or him. Felix took another deliberate step.

I aimed. And fired.

Felix roared with rage and pain. His legs buckled beneath him, and he clutched the bleeding left one just below the kneecap. He barred the way between me and Hanai, so I shuffled toward the stairs until I could scoot around him.

Stuffing the gun in my jeans pocket, I pulled Hanai up. He promptly slumped to the floor again. “Come on, Hanai. I need you to wake up. Your Councilman demands it.”

He remained limp.

Felix actually had the gall to laugh, though it sounded pained. “Bodies are always heavier when they’re dead.”

“Shut up.” I felt for a pulse. Hanai’s fluttered through his neck too fast, but steady.

Summoning all the strength I possessed, I heaved his arm over my shoulders and managed to stand up with him half-draped over my body.

I concentrated on taking one step at a time. Felix jeered and swore and called me filthy names. It seemed like hours before I shrugged Hanai to the floor in the kitchen upstairs.

The doorway to the basement held darkness and fear, but I had to go back down. Felix’s voice had silenced, even when I returned. I grabbed the blanket and swept the ropes from the floor beside the bed.

Upstairs, I spread the blanket over Hanai and rolled him in it before pulling him toward the front door. My movement created the only sound. Terror clogged in my nose, but I managed to move Hanai to the front porch after ten minutes of back-breaking dragging.

I returned to the kitchen and pulled the door shut. Then I tied one end of the rope to the doorknob, and the other end around the basement doorknob, pulling it taut.

I jumped out the window above the sink and ran toward the front of the house. The street lay dormant. The windows of the house next door glowed with a single candle buried deep within. The closest outdoor light illuminated the corner in a halo of orange a hundred yards away.

Hanai rolled and moaned.

“Holy blazes, Hanai, wake up,” I begged, more to myself than to him. Another groan escaped his throat. I knelt over him and checked his pulse. Status: Throbbing.

“Hanai? Can you stand up?”

He rolled, further tangling himself in the blanket. I helped him kick it off. He tried to raise his left arm, but cried out in pain.

I wanted to help him, but a loud buzzing covered his wail.

A vehicle.

A sentry vehicle.

“Run!” I pulled Hanai up and was relieved when he could stand on his own. We dashed down the steps and darted to the right. Fueled by adrenaline, I sprinted to the far corner of the house next door. I pushed Hanai further into the shadows behind me, feeling for the knife at my belt.

“Back here,” Hanai whispered, the words startling me. He disappeared into the shadows under a deep eave. I crawled beside him, twisting just as the sentry vehicle skidded to a stop in front of the house.

Adam’s sandy curls were unmistakable. His eyes, sharp and alert, swept both sides of the street as he leaped from the car. He looked at something in his palm, and then turned his gaze on the front door of the house we’d just exited.

I lost sight of him as he sprinted toward the porch. The creaking wood shattered the stillness. Problem #1: The paths in the dust. Problem #2: Felix, bound and shot in the basement. Problem #3: Adam could read minds.

“We can’t stay here,” I whispered.

Hanai groaned. “I know, but I’m c-cold.”

I cupped his cheek in my palm and infused him with heat. “Come on. We can’t stay here.”

We slithered out of the eaves, and Hanai was halfway across the backyard before I turned to follow.

“Gabby?” Adam asked.

I froze, barely daring to breathe. Hanai motioned to me from the edge of the adjoining yard. I pressed back into the shadows, desperate for them to protect me. A light steam rose from my skin and billowed out of my mouth.

“Gabby?” Adam’s voice came again, nearer now. Before I could run, Adam appeared at the edge of the house.

In an explosion of panic and fear, I raced toward the street where the ground was flat and hard.

“Gabby.” Though Adam whispered, his voice resounded in my soul.

I focused on pushing myself faster. Silently, I begged Hanai to find me again. I darted off the sidewalk when Adam’s heavy sentry boots started slapping the pavement behind me. A fence loomed in front of me, and I jumped. I had just scrambled over when Adam leaped.

“Wait! Please.” Adam used the air to lift himself to the top of the fence. Cheater.

I didn’t answer, already running through the yard to the far fence. I clawed at it, my breath coming in wheezes. A hand clamped around on my right foot. I kicked out hard, losing my shoe.

I fell backward over the fence, and pain coursed through my already bruised tailbone. My robes ripped. But the fence separated me from Adam. Refusing to simply wait for him to kill me, I launched flames toward him, stumbled to my feet, and ran.

He was faster than me and uninjured. He edged closer. I wove back toward the street, but his breath coated my neck.

He slammed his whole body weight into mine, sending us both sprawling to the ground. I screamed and kicked, bit and struggled to get up. Hot tears ran down my face as I batted his hands away from my shoulders so he couldn’t force me down.

“Stop it! Tornadoes! Gabby, knock it off!” He pinned me to the ground with his knees around my hips, straddling me the same way Felix had. A fury I didn’t know I possessed surged.

The storm inside broke.

“Get off!” I shoved him hard, fire exploding out when I touched him. He sailed backward, the orange flames licking over his black clothes without hurting him. I didn’t wait to see if he got up.

I ran again, past dark houses, lit torches, and everything in between. I ran and ran, focusing my breathing and letting the caged-in feelings fly away, the way I used to in the forests of Crylon.

I fled into the flat expanse. South of the city, the plains held very little snow, but plenty of frost and ice crystals. I flinched with the cracking noises as I ran. When I looked down, I found the ground freckled with blood.

Sharp pain stabbed into my right foot. My shoeless foot. Pain flared through my leg, but I couldn’t stop. Cornish still loomed behind me, and the plains offered no protection.

I hobbled now, tears coating my cheeks. After a few more minutes, I went down a slight decline, spotting a line of trees to my left. They did little to delay the wind, but I ducked behind a thick trunk, thinking I could stop for just a minute.

That minute turned into five. My right foot was a mess. Thick, dark blood pooled over the mangled flesh from toe to heel, too much to cauterize. Hating myself for being weak, hating Adam for being a sentry, I hung my head and cried, cried out every last bit of the furious storm swirling inside.

Five minutes became ten. Finally, I ripped a section of my robe into thin strips, and then a square of cloth from the bottom. I wrapped my foot twice over with the square and secured it with the strips around my toes, heel, and ankle.

I tried to stand, and if I kept my weight on my left side, I could manage a sort of hobble-step. I looked toward Cornish, but the rolling hills hid it from view. To the south, the unforgiving plains stared back. I looked up into the starry night—which was partially blocked by the tree limbs.

“Up,” I whispered. The lowest branch hung above my head. I leaped, my fingertips barely brushing the rough bark. Pain exploded in my wrapped foot when I landed. Pain so severe, bright spots of fire danced before my eyes.

I ground my teeth together, and jumped again. I caught the branch this time and scrabbled with my good foot against the tree trunk.

I started to fall. But in my desperation, I held on too long. As gravity took control, my face scraped against the trunk, and the branch chafed my hands before I let go.

I landed in a heap on the cold ground, my new wounds leaking blood and sparks. I faded in and out of consciousness. At times, the biting breeze felt very real against my exposed neck and face. Other times, everything turned dark, including the pain in my foot and the throbbing in my back.

Several times I sat straight up, scrubbing my face and chest. Anything to get the unwanted touch of Felix’s hands out of my skin, the wisps of his breath off my neck. I scoured my body, unthinking, irrational.

Finally, thankfully, the darkness stole me away.

An angry voice pierced the black drape engulfing me.

Hanai.

He touched me, running his chilly fingers over my cheeks, collarbone, and wrists. He murmured a healing chant in his native tongue.

Another set of hands probed my body, alighting on my face, my neck, my chest. Every touch hurt, no matter how light.

Shrill noise echoed around me, and I realized I was screaming. I tried to quiet my emotions, but the pain was unbearable.

“Gabby?”

Adam.

A fiery storm ignited in my blood.

“You do it,” Adam said, his words growing distant.

“Gabby, you’ve got to calm down,” Hanai said. “Hold still, honey. Can you hold still for me?”

I hadn’t realized I was moving. I searched for a way to control my body, but the sheaf of darkness clouded my head.

“I’m going to give you a shot, okay? It will help with the pain. Man, she’s burning up. I can barely touch her.”

“Watch her hands, they spout flames—ow!” Adam said. “Just give her the medicine. I’ll do something about this wind.”

I tried to shift away from Adam’s voice, but something strong held me in place. A stab of heat entered my arm, and cool water rushed in, quenching the fire threatening to consume me from the inside out.

“Finally,” Hanai said, his voice dripping with relief.

“I’m going to help you, Gabby.” Adam’s lies always sounded so smooth. I didn’t believe him, but the delicious water reared and washed me out into a sea where it didn’t matter what I believed.

A soothing chant entered the endless darkness, painting reds and blues into a shocking violet. With the color and sound came an inviting smell. Smoke—and sunshine.

Like rising out of deep water, I ascended toward Hanai’s voice. It grew louder and more distinct with every passing moment. I broke through the restraining surface of darkness, inhaling a delicious smoke.

I breathed it in again, feeling my aches ease, before opening my eyes. Hanai sat in a chair next to the bed I lay on, his eyes closed, the chant unbroken. He wore his blue Council robes—clean Council robes—and jeans. His long, black hair was secured at the nape of his neck. The candlelight flickered on his brown skin.

“Hanai?”

His eyes flew open, but he didn’t stop chanting. The tight lines around his eyes smoothed. A moment later, the chant ended. “You okay, Firemaker?”

I tried to sit up. Pain flared from my core outward. Tears sprang to my eyes.

“Don’t move,” Hanai said. “You’re cut pretty bad.”

I lay back against the pillow, panting. My foot hurt the worst. Sharp barbs of pain stabbed into my knee and thigh.

“What?” I managed to ask through clenched teeth.

Hanai cleared his throat. “Well….”

I closed my eyes until the pain subsided. Then I glanced down at myself, shocked to find my entire upper body covered with a thin icing of gauze. Underneath, dry scaly scabs caught the fabric with even the tiniest movement.

“What…? What happened?”

“Your shoulder is almost healed,” Hanai started. “Adam changed the dressing and seemed relieved there was no infection. He put some nasty-smelling ointment on it and re-bandaged it. Your foot….” He glanced to the end of the bed, where my foot dangled in an apparatus six inches off the sheets. “Well, it’s pretty mangled. The healer bound it the best she could, but there was hardly any skin left to stitch. And….” His gaze swept over my chest and shoulders. Even though I was covered by the gauze, the dirty feelings brought on by Felix’s attack surfaced.

Hanai knelt next to the bed, tears streaming down his face. “I couldn’t find you. You ran, and your spirit was broken. I’ve never felt such crushing desperation to find someone. Good thing Adam is such an exceptional sentry. The only reason we found you is because he found the trail of your bloody footprints. You were bleeding….” He pressed his eyes closed. “I’ve never seen so much blood.”

His voice cracked, and he touched his forehead to the blankets. His shoulders shook with sobs.

“Your face and both hands are pretty torn up. Your arms, your shoulders, your chest, your stomach, you’d rubbed them raw with ice. Adam says the skin will re-grow fast enough. He slathered you with that ointment, and we covered that with gauze. I couldn’t…couldn’t feel your soul for so long.”

I looked at my wounds again, remembering the unyielding bark and unclean feelings.

“I thought I lost you.” Hanai stroked his fingers across my forehead.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but I could still feel his hands on my body, taste his breath in my mouth. I clenched my teeth and willed the tears to stay dormant.

Minutes passed in black silence before the mattress shifted. I opened my eyes as Hanai gently slid his arm under my head and held me close, the chant already vibrating in his chest. He pressed his lips to my forehead.

“I’m sorry I ran,” I whispered, feeling so broken. I inhaled deeply, finding a fire burning in the room outside the door.

“Don’t bring that in here,” Hanai teased. “Some of us can’t breathe through all that smoke.”

Something like a smile formed on my face, but it felt twisted. I took one last lungful, and pushed the smoke away.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Is your gunshot wound okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “It’s not completely healed, but enough.”

I sighed. “I’m glad.”

“I love you.” His mouth came softly on my forehead again. The fire simmering under my skin awakened into a rolling boil. Heat spread from his lips to my bloodstream. Down my throat. Through my whole body.

My skin prickled with a thousand tiny teeth before erupting into an uncomfortable itch. Furious heat enveloped us. Or maybe just me, I didn’t know. I was aware that I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck, matching my lips to his, clinging to him through the raging inferno.

In that kiss, there was no pain. No loss. No betrayal.

Just Hanai and me, me and Hanai.

The fire boiling inside exploded to the surface. Hanai yanked away, his moan filled with pain. “You’re—magic alive! Gabby?”

My eyes were welded shut. Bright orange light beamed through the darkness. Waxy smoke coated my lungs—this wasn’t normal fire.

Status: I’m on fire.

My thought was confirmed when Hanai said, “You’re on fire!”

An intense heat filled my lungs. The smoke I normally found so comforting choked me. The prickling in my skin increased until razor-sharp teeth skated over the surface.

Crackling noises echoed around me, so fire-like and so terrifying at the same time. Because I knew it was my skin burning. My head sizzled, and an uncomfortable sensation pulled along my scalp.

“Shh,” someone whispered. Fingers entwined with mine. Shallow breath washed over my cheek. “Gabby, quiet, shh.” Hanai’s voice held a healing quality all its own. He smelled of wood and cold air. I breathed him in, eliminating the place in my mind where nightmares lived.

I sat up, expecting the debilitating pain to sweep through my shoulders. It didn’t.

“Magic alive,” Hanai breathed.

I tried to focus on his face, but he lingered in a halo of shadow. He leaned forward, and I found wonder in his eyes and love curling his mouth.

“Hanai.” I said his name like he could save me from myself. I wanted him to, oh, how I wanted him to.

“You healed yourself.”

My skin stretched, creamy and white, down my torso and under the blankets. I snatched the slightly charred sheet and pulled it to my chin. “Clothes—I—”

He held a bundle toward me without removing his eyes from mine. He left the room, trapping me with my own thoughts. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a soft shirt, I tucked a knife in my belt loop. I sat in Hanai’s chair and ran my hands over my arms, feeling nothing but silky, smooth skin.

Hanai stepped into the room and locked the door behind him. “We’ve got to go.”

“Go where?” I took the sentry knife he handed me, tucking it into the waistband of my jeans.

“Away from here. Cornish doesn’t harbor Elementals, and several Elemental refugees from Tarpulin have arrived.” He yanked up the window, and a blast of icy air flooded the room. “And now that everyone in the United Territories knows that Alex is a woman, well, let’s just say that Davison has gathered a lot of help.”

“The attack against Alex is starting,” I said. A loud banging echoed from the front of the house.

“And we want to make sure we’re on the right side.” Hanai gestured me forward. “We don’t need the Cornish guards interrogating us unnecessarily.”

I crawled out the window awkwardly, landing on frozen earth. Claws of chilly air robbed me of heat from my Element, and I actually shivered.

Hanai dropped next to me, reaching for my hand. “Pull up your hood. We don’t want—” He cut off, staring at my head.

“What?” I reached up and felt…my hair. It fell beyond my shoulders in waves, just like it had before the false accusation of arson in Crylon. That life seemed light years away, as if someone else had lived it.

“Well, maybe you won’t need the hood. You look…like a girl.” Hanai sounded like he’d never seen a girl before.

“I’ve always been a girl,” I said, gathering my hair into a low ponytail, marveling at its sudden regrowth.

“Yeah, but now, now you look like one.”

I slid my hand into his in response. Angry shouts filled the graying morning. We stayed off the roads, which made our trek through the southern wilderness long and tiring. There were a few patches of dirty snow, but most of it had melted. Low brush dotted the landscape, making our trail a wandering one.

A few trees loitered on the horizon to the west, but they were too far away for us to use as cover. At least the ground was mostly flat, if not rocky. We walked until the sunset drew a dark curtain over the sky.

I was just about to ask Hanai if I should build a fire when a wolf howled.

Hanai’s step faltered, as did mine. “Fire,” he whispered.

He didn’t need to tell me twice. Using my fist as a torch, we went on for a few steps to a grouping of low brush. I dripped flames onto the waiting limbs, and they caught the fire.

“Adam should be back soon,” Hanai said. “This will have to do until he can rescue us.”

“Adam—back—what will have to do?”

Another howl ripped through the night.

“Safety first,” Hanai said. “I’ll tell you everything, but not if I’m in bite-sized pieces.”

“Okay, fine.” As the brush cradled the flames, Hanai and I gathered rocks and built a circle about ten feet across. Any loose branches we could find went on top of those, where I then poured my fire, encouraging it to burn hot and long.

Just as I finished the ring, a pair of yellow eyes caught the glow. A hint of bared teeth followed.

“Aren’t we too far south for wolves?” I asked as I settled next to Hanai on the sooty ground. Every few years, a wolf would carry a child out of the communes in Crylon, but my old home lay much further north, right on the edge of the wild.

“No,” Hanai whispered. “The wilderness is full of wolves.”

We huddled together through the darkness, heat, and silence. The third time Hanai’s chin drooped to his chest, he didn’t snap it back up. I carefully laid him on the ground before patrolling the circle, re-banking the weak spots in the fiery fence that kept the animals out. Several pairs of shining eyes mirrored my movement beyond the flames. Then I settled next to Hanai, keeping one hand on his shoulder just to assure myself that he was there, and alive.

I awoke to a morning sky full of golden rays of light. I rolled over to find Hanai crouching near the edge of the ring, unmoving. Unblinking. His chest didn’t rise and fall. One hand stretched toward the fire, which had burned down to only a few inches of flame.

A wolf—a very large, very furry, very black wolf—was poised on the opposite side of the barrier. It didn’t blink either. Dragging its belly along the steaming ground, it shuffled forward an inch or two. A whine came from its closed jowls.

Fear rose through me; I wanted to leap up and torch the animal before it could clamp its jaws around Hanai’s skinny neck. He raised his free hand to me, palm out. Don’t, he was saying.

The wolf inched forward again. Still Hanai didn’t move. My heart hammered in the back of my throat. Seconds became minutes.

Then, with a lurch, the wolf leaped, its mouth rearing open. A deep growl washed over me, followed by a sharp bark.

In a fluid motion, Hanai stood, gripped the flying wolf around the neck and twisted. A yelp issued from it, immediately before my own strangled cry.

Hanai knelt again, holding one hand over the wolf’s body, chanting. A tear ran over his nose and dripped onto the matted fur. His lips moved in a silent ceremony before Hanai stood and dragged the wolf to the center of the circle.

“Bank up the fires, please. I’ll make breakfast.” He said it so calmly, but the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth broadcast his worry, his hunger, his pain at killing the wolf.

I moved around the ring, pouring flames to ensure our safety. The fire didn’t look so merry, so comforting, in the daylight. Now it represented a blazing barrier I couldn’t cross.

“Your knife?” Hanai asked. I handed it to him and quickly scurried away from the dead animal, trying to find comfort in the smoke. At least six wolves paced a few yards beyond the fire line. One howled. Then another. They trotted closer, their beady eyes trained on their fallen companion.

Hanai built a small platform of rocks and asked me to heat them before placing the wolf on top.

I couldn’t watch. I closed my eyes when he asked me to use my Element. I let him direct my hands as the fire poured out. We waited. Only the crackling flames broke the silence. Eventually, the smell of roasted meat filled the air, making my mouth water and my head light with hunger. Sweat ran down Hanai’s face, but he didn’t complain.

When the sun hung directly overhead in the crystal blue sky, Hanai asked me to tame the flames under the rocks. He chanted again, his words rumbling together in his native tongue. They warmed me, comforted my aching heart.

Then we ate.

I licked my fingers, thinking wolf didn’t taste nearly as gamey as I was expecting. “About Adam….”

“Yeah, about Adam.” Hanai’s answer carried exhaustion. “Well, as much as I hate to say it, I was wrong about him.”

I waited for more.

“His plan actually worked. And while I would’ve gone about it a different way, he did ensure our safety.”

Clouds gathered in my soul. “Safety?” was all I could choke out.

“He took Cat and Isaiah to Tarpulin—to Alex. He claimed that you had escaped from Felix, and he needed to leave right away to help him find you. So yes, he invited his brother to the ceremony, he went to Tarpulin to turn in Cat and Isaiah, but he bought you some time.” Hanai wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“Time?” I asked, obviously incapable of more than one word questions.

“He almost made it.” The way Hanai spoke in defense of Adam turned the clouds into thunderheads.

“He was supposed to meet you and Felix at that house. Adam had planned to be there first, so Felix wouldn’t…well, you know. So he wouldn’t hurt you.”

I reached for Hanai’s hand and found comfort in his gentle touch.

“He was delayed in Tarpulin. And I was starving.”

“Were you following us?”

Hanai focused on our hands, which rested in his lap. “Yes. But when I arrived in Cornish, I had to eat. I stole something from the market and lost you. I had to search for your spirit, but it was buried.” Tears splashed his face. “I tried to hurry.”

The storm inside blew itself out. I squeezed his hand to let him know I didn’t blame him.

He gathered me into an embrace and pressed his face against my neck. “I’m glad I made it in time. Sort of.”

I wanted him to hold me forever. To tell me that everything would be okay, that we’d find Cat and Isaiah. But we let the silence say everything.

“So anyway.” Hanai cleared his throat. “Adam left Felix in the basement while we searched for you. He took you to the healer’s house, and the three of us worked on your wounds. Then he collected his brother and took him back to Tarpulin. With Felix shot and bloody, he thinks that will convince Alex of whatever story he invents.” He squeezed my hand. “Adam’s coming back to get us. He should be able to see this smoke from miles away.”

“I have to go to Tarpulin,” I said. “So Adam didn’t buy me anything.”

“We know about Davison’s mission for you. Adam can read minds, remember?” Hanai spoke gently, but the reminder that nothing with Adam had been—or ever would be—private only served to ignite my anger.

“Don’t be mad,” he said. “I’m still not sure of everything my Spiritual Element can do, but I can feel emotions. And Adam is truly remorseful about what he felt he had to do. He needed the chartering to ensure his position on your Council, but he also needed to placate Felix and Alex.”

I didn’t know how to answer, how to feel. I didn’t trust Adam, but I felt I really could rely on Hanai. “I guess…. But why did he have to do anything for Felix or Alex? He left Tarpulin a long time ago.”

“To save himself,” Hanai said. “He told them he was tracking down the Elemental abnormalities and couldn’t report in because of it.”

“How do we know he wasn’t tracking me down?”

Hanai caught my gaze, and he looked apologetic. “He wasn’t,” he said. “I’ve known him for a while, and the only person I ever saw him track was Felix. He was trying to make sure he didn’t ruin the Elemental schools. But, you know, Gabby, Adam had to tell them something.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I guess,” I said again.

“He would’ve been killed on-sight otherwise,” Hanai said.

I opened my eyes and squinted into the sky. “All right. I have to believe you.”

“I can’t make you, and Adam said he’ll do whatever he can to convince you.” Hanai stared into the horizon. “But I believed him. I let go of my disbelief and relied on my Element, and I could only feel the truth of his words.”

I remembered the gentle pulling of the chartering magic. It had felt clean and pure. The five of us were a Council. I felt closer to Hanai than ever as he waited for me to respond.

“That will have to be enough for me for right now.” I hugged my knees to my chest. “I’m scared to go to Tarpulin, Hanai. Alex will kill me as soon as she sees me.”

Hanai cupped my face in his hands. I breathed in his comfort, his tranquility. The soothing feelings didn’t mesh with my pounding heart. “I…feel…strange….”

“My Element,” he breathed. “I can feel and control emotions.”

I blinked at his new power. But he wasn’t controlling how I felt about him. Only the anxiety rocketing from my thoughts of dying.

“Hanai, I—I should’ve picked you.” I reached up and lightly ran my fingers over his face.

He dipped his head, and I opened my mouth to receive his. The golden sunshine from Hanai’s Element melded with the blinding heat of mine.

Hanai slept, his arms wrapped securely around me. I stared at the wall of flames, thinking, remembering.

A beep filled the void. A voice—Adam’s voice—tinny and far away spoke. “Felix! Stop it! You hurt her, and I’ll kill you!”

That’s what he’d said. Adam had tried to stop Felix.

I inhaled, not bothering to heat the icy air before it met my lungs. He’d played both sides flawlessly. Alex and Felix thought he was on their side. Hanai thought he was on ours.

I didn’t know what to think, who to believe. I thought back, trying to remember if Adam had ever lied directly to me.

Hot blazes, I couldn’t remember a single time he had. Even when I thought he’d left, he hadn’t. When I believed he’d lied, he hadn’t.

Maybe I could trust him. Maybe it would just take time. Not sure I have a lot of that, I thought before falling asleep.

Dawn brought with it the promise of long hours spent behind a fiery barrier. To pass the time, we traced letters in the charred dirt. When the afternoon started to relinquish into evening, a growl rumbled beyond the barrier. Several more joined in, creating a chorus of throaty warnings.

I peered through the flames. The wolves lay flattened on the ground, lips drawn back over raunchy teeth, staring south.

“What do you think—?”

“Adam,” Hanai interrupted. He pointed. “There.”

I couldn’t see anything. The landscape repeated endlessly. Then a wisp of dirt crept into the sky. As it came closer, I recognized the steam from the sentry vehicle condensing in the chilly air.

The wolves scattered as the buzz barreled toward them. Adam skidded to a stop inside the ring of flames. He flung open the door and strode the few feet to where Hanai and I stood huddled together.

“Gabby.” Adam said my name like it would heal a wound deep in his soul. He pulled me into a tight embrace. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He whispered it again and again, as if to reassure himself that it was true. I looked over his shoulder at Hanai, who wore a frown.

I stood stiffly in Adam’s arms until he released me. He brushed the long hair away from my eyes. “Hey, beautiful. I’m so sorry. I came as fast as I could. Now…and then.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips to mine, softly, lovingly.

I didn’t know if I should kiss him back or punch him. I pulled away from Adam, wiping my mouth and looking anywhere but at him. I stepped toward Hanai and finally met Adam’s eyes.

His emotions were carefully hidden behind a mask of stone. “Let’s get out of here. Smart thing, building that fire. I could see the smoke from miles away.”

Hanai moved toward the vehicle, which hummed and hovered a few inches off the ground. It was flat and perfectly round, made with a shiny, silver metal I’d never seen before. “It was necessary, not smart.” He lifted the door and climbed into the vehicle. From the long bench seat, he offered his hand to help me up. I paused, still unsure that Adam wouldn’t simply deliver me to my death in this metallic trap.

Adam stood behind me, waiting for me to get in the vehicle before him. “Come on, Gabby,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you can’t drive.”

“Hanai?” I asked a multitude of questions with that one word. He said he could read feelings, and that he trusted Adam. But I didn’t know who to trust, who was on my side. With the two of them here together, I didn’t know whose name should’ve been written on that charter, no matter how temporary.

I looked back and forth between them, my thoughts racing.

“Whoa,” Hanai said just as Adam complained, “Can’t—breathe….”

“I need some answers before I get in this vehicle with you,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“You just let him kiss you,” Hanai said, his voice poisoned. “Getting in the car comes way before that, don’t you think?”

I glanced at Adam. Beautiful, sexy Adam, who casually raked his curls off his forehead.

“You’re the reason I left Alex,” he whispered.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. When I found out she was a woman, she told me she knew there were others like her. Every time one of them popped up, she made a new educational restriction, visited another school that wasn’t following the ‘rules,’ and eliminated the threat. She’s killed everyone who threatens her—people like you.”

Before I could respond, he continued, “Not everyone believes the way she does. Why do you think she burned Newton? Or Crylon? Just look at Davison’s rebellion.” He swept his hand across the plains, indicating the vastness of the uprising. “You’ll fit into society better than you think. Especially if you defeat her.”

I let his words sink in. “Defeat her? You mean I’ll….” I didn’t know how to finish that thought.

“She won’t allow you to live.” He moved into my personal space. “It’s you or her.”

I blinked and stepped back, bumping into the vehicle. I remembered him saying the same thing when we fled toward the Outcast settlement. I hadn’t believed it then. I did now.

“Alex thinks you shot Felix and escaped—which technically, you did.” Adam grinned, but it was short-lived. “I’ve been commissioned to find and kill you, but we all know that’s not going to happen.”

“We do?” I asked, still unsure of his loyalty despite Hanai’s assurances.

Adam looked over my shoulder at Hanai. “I thought you said you were going to talk to her.”

“I did. I told her about my Element and what I can do—and what I thought about you. She can believe what she wants.” Hanai touched the seat next to him. “Come on, Gabby. Get in.”

I needed to believe in someone. Hanai had always been the most trustworthy. If he said Adam was genuine, I had to believe him. No, I’m choosing to believe him—and to believe in Adam. I turned to climb in the vehicle, but Adam caught my hand.

“I said I was yours.” His words held an accusation.

“I know,” I murmured. “And I’m working on believing it.”

His eyes filled with sadness so deep I couldn’t ignore it as I settled next to Hanai. Adam got in, sandwiching me between the two of them, and nosed the vehicle south. Suddenly, he did something to make us lurch forward.

The hum of the vehicle vibrated in the seat as it assaulted my ears. The interior smelled like sweat and grease. And Adam’s usual ash and lemons. And Hanai’s earth and sunshine. My heart rate rocketed as the usual feelings of claustrophobia engulfed me.

I could reach out and touch a panel of blinking lights. It extended across the entire width of the interior, with a handhold for Adam to steer the vehicle. The top half of the craft was glass, allowing me to see forward, left, right, and up. I almost felt like I was riding on one of Adam’s pillows of air.

“I can feel something wrong in the earth,” Hanai finally said as we sped over the land, unconcerned about the low brush and rocks as the vehicle hovered about ten feet off the ground when it was moving. “It’s coming from Tarpulin. I think it has something to do with the Supremist.”

“She will stop at nothing to achieve her desires,” Adam said. “No doubt that she’s used every resource she has. What is it you feel?”

Hanai remained quiet for a few minutes, his eyes closed like he was listening to the earth. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “But something’s not right.”

I didn’t know much about the Spiritual Element, but I knew Hanai had gifts simply from his Spirit-speaker blood. If he said something was wrong, something was wrong. “What’s our plan?” I asked.

“We’ll make camp on the plains,” Adam said. “Lure her out to us.”

“Where’s Davison?” I asked. “He said he had legions of sentries already here.”

“He does,” Hanai said. “They’re hiding, waiting for Alex to leave her highly protected city. With our enhanced Elements, we should be able to protect you until Davison comes with his Council and the other Councilmen.”

“Your Councilman rescued Davison,” Adam said, his voice soft. “He recaptured the building, driving out all the Tarpulin sentries Felix had brought.”

“Councilman Ferguson has immense firepower,” I said.

“Had,” Adam corrected in a whisper. “He died freeing Davison and re-establishing the security of their stronghold.”

I closed my eyes, wondering how many more people would die before this rebellion ended. Too many, I was sure.

“We’ll be fine,” Adam said. “We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“The Supremist has plenty of her own talents,” I argued.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” he said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Adam looked at me. His eyes glided toward Hanai, and a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “That day—I was late because I couldn’t use my air to get to Cornish. I felt—empty.”

Hanai’s breathing quickened. “Really?” He and Adam exchanged a glance.

“Really.”

Hanai folded his arms and stared out the wide window. “I told you, Adam. Alex is not a Firemaker.”

“What do you mean, Alex is not a Firemaker?” My voice came out strangled.

“Exactly what I said. She’s not a Firemaker.”

“Yes, she is,” I argued. “I felt her firemaking Element when we barely escaped from your village. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the blazing fire she had spewing from her hands.”

Hanai’s jaw twitched. “I haven’t forgotten. How did you feel when she did that? And how was Isaiah affected?”

I frowned at the edge in his voice. “I felt…” empty, I wanted to say, but couldn’t. And Isaiah had to be summoned before he woke up.

“Explain,” Adam said.

“Alex isn’t a Firemaker,” I answered for Hanai. “She’s stealing our Elements. Right? Did she steal my power? And Isaiah’s? How—? Well, how does she do that?”

“I don’t know,” Hanai said. “But it explains a lot.”

I waited for what, exactly, it explained. Adam shifted next to me, clearly expecting a better explanation as well. Hanai remained silent.

“Like what?” I burst out.

Hanai took his time responding. When he did, his words were controlled, spoken in a voice barely louder than the buzzing of the vehicle. “Like why this winter won’t end. Somehow she’s using the heat from the earth, robbing the spring from blossoming.”

“Holy tornadoes,” Adam said. “When I left, she used the wind to slam the door behind me. I fell to my knees, weak and sweaty. Maybe she stole my Element, and that’s why I couldn’t use it?”

“Hmm,” Hanai said. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He spoke to himself more than to either of us.

Hanai slept, his head resting on my shoulder. Adam didn’t strike up a conversation, and like I was going to. He’d always been the chatterbox in our relationship.

I squirmed, and Hanai’s head slipped to my chest. I adjusted so he would be more comfortable, which meant I had to lean into Adam. “Sorry, is this okay?”

“It’s fine,” he said, but he didn’t sound fine.

“Are you okay?”

Adam hesitated for a fraction of a second. “I’m fine.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said ‘fine.’”

“So?”

“Which means everything is not fine.”

When he didn’t answer, I wished I could read minds. I concentrated really hard, hoping to hear a whisper of what he had going on inside his head. I heard nothing.

He chuckled. “You’re funny.”

I didn’t find anything amusing. I wanted to know what he was thinking.

Adam gripped the steering column until his knuckles turned white. “Okay, I’m thinking that I wish I could find a way to tell you how sorry I am. I’m wishing I had the words that would make you feel clean again. Something that would convince you that I’m your Airmaster—that I’ll always be your Airmaster—and anything else you want me to be.”

I swallowed hard. Felix said that once Adam put his mind to something, he followed through. I just wished I knew what he’d decided first—to be my Airmaster or to be Alex’s sentry.

Adam stiffened, and he sighed.

But I couldn’t take back the thought. He didn’t offer an assurance, so I stared out the windshield with confusion swirling in my mind.

Finally, darkness swallowed the sky. I fell into it, welcoming the unthinking realms of sleep.

A lull in movement woke me. We’d stopped. I opened my eyes to a navy blue blanket of chilly air.

Adam’s voice: Frantic.

Hanai: Chanting.

The call of fire sang to me, but it faded quickly. I jumped from the vehicle and ran to where Adam and Hanai were kneeling over someone. More than someone—a Firemaker. And this fire felt like home.

“Holy blazes,” I whispered, arriving on-scene. “Jarvis.”

He burned, the flames licking his black clothes, dancing in his dark hair. His eyes were closed, but fluttered open when I touched his forehead. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Fire sparked from his fingertips like flaming droplets of rain. His irises blazed red before he closed his eyes again.

“Hanai?” I asked.

“This is beyond what I can heal.”

Adam, who had been mixing a mud concoction, slathered it over Jarvis’s fingers, hands, and wrists. The fire went out. He ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt, slopped mud on it, and laid it over Jarvis’s forehead.

He used his air to try to smother the flames dancing over Jarvis’s clothes, but they continued to blaze. Adam cursed. “I’ll see if there are any Elemental cancellers in the car. His Element is killing him.” He stood and strode back to the sentry vehicle.

I could not watch the flames incinerate Jarvis. I held my palm over his stomach and urged the fire to leave him. It rushed into my body, expanding into every crevice. And, blazes, it was hot.

I fell backward, consumed by Jarvis’s power.

“Gabby,” he murmured. His voice sounded so weak, so unlike the Firemaker I’d once known and loved.

I scrambled back to him. “I’m here.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, pressing my hand to his forehead. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I—I set the fire in Crylon.” He reached blindly for my hand. I gripped his between both of mine, shock quieting my reassurances.

“Don’t let her…do to you…what she did to me.” He coughed, and this time the red was blood and not flames. “I’m c-cold. S-so c-cold.”

“I took your Element. You were—” I cut off as he endured another round of coughing. I flinched away from the sound until it quieted.

I looked down.

He was dead.

The flames burned twenty feet high. I watched them jump, refusing to breathe through my nose. I kept my eyes on the pinnacle of the pyre so I wouldn’t have to see the mournful eyes of Hanai. Or the angry glare of Adam. I really didn’t care who saw the smoke. Alex knew we were coming anyway.

“The timeline is too fast,” Adam had argued. “Davison and his Council aren’t ready.”

I didn’t care. He’d requested I come Tarpulin. He better blazing get ready.

I watched the smoke ascend into the sky so I wouldn’t have to watch Jarvis’s flesh melt away, his bones blacken. Yet the images engrained themselves into my memory anyway. Something wet tickled my face. I didn’t wipe away the tears. I didn’t do anything. Just watched the flames, flickering in the crush of dark surrounding me. Focused on drawing breath one more time. Then another. The smoke would’ve brought serenity, but comfort was not welcome at this funeral.

Eventually, I brought my knees to my chest and rested my head on them. The sobs came. My shoulders heaved, my heart wailed, my soul emptied itself into the tears and hiccups.

For my dear Jarvis. My dutiful Educator Graham. My former roommate Patches.

For my friends and Councilmembers Cat and Isaiah.

For two people I loved: Adam and Hanai.

And for myself.

I cried and cried, even when Hanai wrapped me in the comfort and security of his arms.

Dawn brought with it a city. Like a great fish hoisting itself out of deep water, Tarpulin rose from the depths of darkness with the sun. The waves reflected gold and pink into the sky. Just before the water, the city lay in a sprawling circle, a tall spire in the center stretching above the other buildings. Streets radiated from the Supremist’s fortress to an impenetrable city wall.

On the southwest edge of the circle, a mountain reached into the morning sky. My fire burned hotter at the thought of what lay underneath: The Elemental school. The mound of earth spilled right over the towering wall.

Beyond the wall lay endless plains.

With a mass of sentries already headed our way.

I got to my feet as icy tendrils of wind kissed the sweat coating my body and turned it into a layer of frost.

“Adam.” I stumbled toward the hovercraft without looking away from the approaching sentries. Maybe they’re Davison’s, I thought, but I knew I was deluding myself. No matter whose they were, Adam would be able to read their minds.

He sat up, his eyes bloodshot, before I could pound on the window. In the next moment, he wrenched open the door. “What is it?”

I pointed toward the advancing sea of black.

“Sentries,” we said at the same time.

“Not ours,” Adam added, cocking his head to the side.

To his credit, he didn’t scold me for revealing our position with Jarvis’s funeral pyre. He simply squeezed my hand and turned toward the vehicle. “Hanai. Wake up, man. We’ve got trouble. Gabby, get in the car.”

Before I could take a step, a pillar of earth shot into the sky. A hulking man landed lightly next to the chasm, a steely glint in his eye.

“Mr. Gillman,” he said.

Adam stepped forward, pushing me behind him. “Lucas.”

“Alex would like a word.” Lucas-the-Earthmover folded his arms.

Adam didn’t answer. Hanai stepped next to me, sliding his hand into mine. This time, though, the desperation coursing through my bloodstream didn’t melt away. Lucas’s face relaxed instead.

“She doesn’t need Adam,” Hanai said, his voice quiet but filled with authority. “Tell her you couldn’t find us.”

Lucas almost smiled—or what I imagine would pass for a smile on his rough face. He leaped into the tunnel he’d made without another word.

“Holy tornadoes, Hanai,” Adam said. “Unbelievable Element you’ve got there.” He turned toward me. “Get in the—”

“Halt!”

Five sentries—with guns pointed—stood before us. A moment later, a rush of wind blew my hair back, announcing the arrival of an Airmaster. He stepped from behind the sentries, clearly the reason they had arrived so fast.

“Hi, Theodore.” Adam spoke without a hint of camaraderie. The Airmaster growled before taking off again, flying back toward Tarpulin.

A sentry sneered and lifted a black box to his mouth. “We have the Elementals.”

The box beeped, and a female voice said, “If they try to flee, kill them.”

We stood there, the three of us staring down the barrels of five guns. In my head, I asked Adam a hundred times what we were going to do, but he didn’t move a single muscle.

Minutes stretched into forever. Finally, the Supremist arrived, wearing a luxurious set of crimson robes. Her hair stood only half an inch long, and her cheekbones were sharp and angled. She appraised me with anger flowing freely through her expression.

Relief flooded me. I’d accomplished what Davison wanted. If I could survive, I might actually have a chance at having a real Council, with a real city.

“Adam.” She raised her hand and the sentries lowered their weapons. “Is that girl in your custody?”

“You’re a girl too,” I snarled before I could quiet the words.

“And now everyone knows it,” Hanai added.

The Supremist trained her murderous eyes on me and then him before settling back on Adam. “So it seems.”

For the first time, Adam shifted nervously.

“I know you used your air—” she started.

“Yes, I did,” he interrupted her.

Something like betrayal—maybe hurt?—flickered across her face. Then she strengthened her jaw. “But—why?”

Adam’s shoulders tightened. “Because I don’t agree with your policies.”

“Because I’m a w—”

“Your gender has nothing to do with it.”

Pieces slid into place. Jarvis set that fire in Crylon. That had happened at about the same time the news came out that Alex was a woman.

In the middle of it all…Adam.

I pressed back into the vehicle.

“Not me, Gabby,” he whispered. “Felix went to Crylon. Felix has been giving orders, fixing mistakes. I defected last year, remember?”

“How did you spread the rumor that Alex was a woman if you were with me in Forrester and then in the Outcast settlement?”

Adam glared past me toward Alex. “I told you once, Gabriella, the air tells me everything. I can use it to send messages to others. Remember how I asked Isaiah to come be our Earthmover?”

I nodded.

“I sent air messages to all the Councilmen across the entire United Territories, first to let them know about Alex, and then to see if they would join Davison’s uprising. Word travels fast.” He didn’t look away from Alex once.

Before I could process what he’d said, my feet turned cold. Icy cold. I fell to my knees as my fire ebbed away. I moaned as I felt the heat of another fire. Alex’s rage, her intense hatred of Adam, seeped into my soul. Strangely, I wanted nothing more than to watch him burn.

A hand, made entirely of angry fire, grew in front of me. It reared and slapped Adam hard across the face. When he righted himself, his cheek was unmarred, perfect. I absorbed the flames into my body, where the heat boiled under my skin. It raged throughout my senses.

But it didn’t hurt.

Because it was my fire. That—woman—had stolen—my—Element. No wonder she hadn’t been able to hurt Adam, my bonded Airmaster, a chartered member of my Council.

I regained my feet, flames pouring from my hands. “Don’t you dare take my power again.”

I took two steps forward, vaguely aware that Hanai had said my name.

Alex tipped her head back, and laughed. The sound fueled my rage. She signaled, and someone behind her threw something.

Adam launched a funnel of air, sending the Elemental cancellers far to the right. “Nice try. We know as many tricks as you.”

Alex cocked her head, a coy smile tugging at her lips. “Do you?”

“Yeah—” A strange, choking sound came from Adam’s throat. He crashed to his knees, his hands clutching his chest.

“Stop it!” Hysteria entered my voice, though I tried to keep my emotions in check. I’d only taken one step when the cool whisper of metal touched the back of my neck.

It wasn’t a knife, but worse. The fire inside iced over and fled into the Element-cancelling metal. “No,” I croaked.

Alex ran her fingers through my hair, causing me to flinch away from the chill of her hands. “You and I have much in common, Gabriella.”

I glanced up, expecting to see hatred in every line of her face. I didn’t find it. More like fascination.

“No,” Hanai answered for me. “She is not like you.”

Alex turned her calculating gaze on him. “Oh? And how would you know, Unmanifested?”

Hanai’s mouth curled. “I am not Unmanifested.”

“Oh?” Alex said again.

“I’m just like you,” Hanai continued. “You and I are the same.”

Alex looked at him like she was entertaining a mental patient. “What?”

“We’re both Spiritual Elementals.”

The mood around me lightened. Everything turned spongy and soft, like maybe I could lie down and indulge in a long nap. And when I woke, the world would be right. Spring would blossom with pinks and yellows and greens. My Council would be together. We’d be standing on a tall tower in a grand city on the edge of the ocean.

Alex screamed, shattering the blissful images in my head.

“You—stop it—” Her breath came in gasps, and her eyes sparked with hatred. “I am the Spiritual Elemental. Me!”

“You are not as special as you think.” Hanai clenched his fists, his body tense from shoulders to feet.

Holy hot blazes. Alex is a Spiritual Elemental. Hanai had said he didn’t know the full range of his powers, but they could obviously do more than control emotions—like borrow Elements from others.

Alex flew at Hanai, her fingers splayed, clawing at his throat. The air crackled with her emotion. Lightning struck with fury. Rain pelted the earth, each drop angrier than the last.

Hanai stumbled and fell with the Supremist on top of him. My emotions—along with Alex’s—raged inside. Her anger mingled with mine, twisting until I couldn’t distinguish her fury from mine. I flung the unsecured cancellers away and stood, fire flowing from my fingertips.

My situation: Adam lay bound with cancellers, blood oozing from his nose. He squinted into the storm. His skin shone with a waxy sheen as hail pummeled down.

At least I knew he hadn’t lied to me, but that knowledge did little to ease the storm escalating inside.

“Alex.” I spoke, but the sound didn’t carry through the weather. Then, just as fast as the skies had cried, they stopped. Blue sky broke through—along with the sound of Hanai’s laughter.

Such happy, carefree laughter. It didn’t erase the tornado inside. If anything, it coiled faster, tighter, stronger. Because I’d never heard Hanai laugh like that.

He shoved Alex off him, still laughing as if they were frolicking in a grassy meadow instead of fighting in the midst of a hailstorm.

“Leave him alone!” I commanded. She didn’t. She pulled on the warmth of the earth, encircling him in a ring of fire so tight the icon of flames danced in his eyes.

“Gabby, don’t,” he said, his voice filled with pain. I couldn’t tell if it was emotional or physical. Probably both.

“Let him go,” I said to Alex. “And release those cancellers from Adam.”

Alex turned and focused on me, her eyes narrow slits of hostility. “I do not take orders from children.”

“They are my Councilmembers. You will leave them alone.”

Alex laughed, high and cruel. “You have no Councilmembers.”

I strode up to her and punched her with a flaming fist. “Yes. I do. Release them.”

Alex stumbled back, but not a single sentry came to her aid. They stood there with vacant eyes and open mouths, like they weren’t sure what was happening. I barely had time to think Hanai must be controlling them before I realized one thing: I’d just punched the Supremist. Fury mixed with fear inside my stomach. Where were Davison’s sentries? He’d said he had legions stationed here.

“You have no Councilmembers,” Alex sneered again. “No friends. Jarvis is dead. And you killed your sentry friend in the Outcast settlement.” A cruel smile snaked across her face.

Patches. My heart fractured a little more at the realization that the fire I had thrown had injured him.

Her grin broadened. Inside, my fury bloomed. “Release my Airmaster,” I growled. “And I believe you have my Earthmover and Watermaiden imprisoned in Tarpulin.”

Instead of responding, Alex stretched her hand toward me and gripped an invisible rope, twisting her fist and pulling it toward her.

My sight abandoned me. Sounds clamored around me, but the sun was blotted out. I felt a hole widen in my soul, felt my fire flee toward the opening, felt myself moving forward against my will. Alex’s cruel laughter mocked me in the darkness.

A blast of steam punched me, causing me to fall to my knees. A flaming hand gripped my hair and jerked my head back. The smell of burning hair choked me.

“You’re as stupid as Jarvis,” Alex hissed. “He resisted too. If you give in, it hurts less. Or so I’m told.”

Wet streaks coated my cheeks. The sky bled, coating the backs of my eyelids with fire and blood. My soul leaked out. My own Element was killing me, the flames consuming me from the inside out. Everything felt hot and dry and scratchy. This is what death feels like, I thought.

Alex had her hand in my hair, and suddenly the tip of one finger pressed against my scalp. I seized the fire—the heat she had stolen from the earth. It filled me like a much-needed breath after a long time underwater.

Still on my knees, I kicked off my shoes. I wiggled my toes, burying them deep in the cold dirt. Heat exploded out when I called it upward.

My vision blazed to life. Unfamiliar fire exploded from both hands, and Alex stumbled away from me. I shot flames toward her. She dropped to the ground to avoid the blast, and the group of sentries behind her took the brunt of it. Their screams entered my awareness, but my fire was not my own anymore.

The new heat, and pressure, and lava raged inside, consuming me. A dam broke, letting the fire gush out and over and everywhere. Encouraged by the smoke, I smoothly walked forward and pulled Alex to her feet. She whimpered, a pathetic sound that brought a sneer to my lips.

“Davison will never let you live,” she said. Though I knew she’d spoken out of desperation, I still hesitated. “He needs to regain control,” she continued. “He wants to rule the Territories. He’ll use whoever he has to, and dispose of anyone who gets in his way. Me. You. Anyone.”

Whether it was true or not, I didn’t care. Her words only served to fuel my anger. I slapped her, hard, across the face. To her credit, she didn’t cry out. She cradled her cheek, the blood mixing with the smoke in a crimson river of ash. That wasn’t a pleasant sight—and the smell made my stomach lurch.

The wind curled around me, wrapping me in rage. “Let Hanai and Adam go.”

“Adam is a silly boy who only does what serves him best,” Alex spat. “Remember that, Gabriella. He doesn’t love you. He abandoned me at the most crucial time. He’ll abandon you too.”

A cold fury built in my chest, adding more emotions to the fire already seething inside. I drew back to slap Alex again, but she caught my wrist.

Big mistake. For both of us.

I absorbed her body heat. She crumpled to the ground, her mouth opening in a soft “oh!” of surprise.

“Gabby! Don’t!” Hanai’s voice carried on the wind, a mere fragment of thought. I saw him running toward me, but he was moving so slow, so slow.

I couldn’t contain the new thermal energy I’d taken from Alex. It had to be released. I screamed, the sound tearing my throat and rending the air.

The fire took with it all the frustration, the betrayal, the agony. The loneliness. Flames surged and frothed and singed. Spurts of blazing plasma coated the nearby trees, scorching them black.

I tried to stop it, tried to hold in the agony, the unbearable heat. But it was not mine, and it did not obey. I wept through it all. The atmosphere joined me, releasing fat droplets of rain that didn’t quench my fire. Sparks rained too, falling from the sky where I continued to send my pain. Every blast, every inferno, every tear helped rid my body of the agony I couldn’t endure.

When it finally ended, I stood alone. The wind had died. The pelting rain swallowed the moans and wails of those dying around me until they turned silent.

I knelt in the middle of the smoking wilderness, my eyes fixated on the one person I needed most.

His navy Council robes were covered in soot, completely soaked by the unrelenting rain.

His eyes were closed. His mouth gaped open. He bled. He burned.

Hanai was dead.

The full moon shone behind a veil of clouds. I stood in the shadows of a pine forest, watching the world burn. Someone stepped next to me. I didn’t look away from the crimson glow on the horizon.

“Gabriella, you must let go,” a man said, sounding like Chief Tavar. He couldn’t be here, hundreds of miles from the Outcast settlement.

I didn’t answer, unable to entertain my hallucinations. I held a firm grip on emptiness, and I didn’t know how to let go. I had no teachers, no friends, no home. Yet the pangs of loneliness didn’t stir in my heart.

Maybe I didn’t have a heart anymore.

The sharp snap of water on crackling flames dulled my senses. I was burning but I didn’t care. It didn’t hurt.

In fact, I felt nothing. And see, feeling nothing at all was worse than feeling too much.

“Let go,” Chief Tavar said again, but I couldn’t even blink. I stared at Hanai, wishing he would move. Surely he would get up any minute, that playful glint in his eye telling me my soul was revealing too much.

He didn’t.

His death hurt so, so much. The emptiness expanded inside my chest. A stabbing pain started behind my neck, eating its way into my head and down my shoulders.

The air became too thick to breathe. I gasped now, sucking huge lungfuls of air that couldn’t quench my need for oxygen. The emptiness, the useless emptiness, spread, infiltrating all my limbs. Black spots pressed into my vision. They crowded my view of Hanai, and I wiped a smoking hand across my eyes.

Struggling for breath, saturated with rain and with the engulfing nothingness filling my entire body, I stood up.

Alex lay crumpled on the burnt ground next to me. She didn’t move, except for the panting rise and fall of her chest. Her robes held only a slight singe, but blood crawled from her nose and mouth. Her survival didn’t seem fair.

I raised my hand, ready to smother her in willing flames. I couldn’t. Feeling nothing at all had ruined everything. The void had swallowed my rage.

Bodies littered the ground. Adam lay where he’d fallen earlier, his clothing layered with ash, but not a lick of fire had touched him.

The vehicle sat on the ground, fans silent, fierce scorch marks along the windowed roof.

A sudden, wild thought drove me forward. I stumbled toward Hanai, tripping over the man next to him. I’d heard him chant; I could heal him.

His body still felt warm. I pulled him into the vehicle, out of the rain. With his head in my lap, I chanted. He’d held his hands in a specific place, but I didn’t know where to put mine. So I stroked his hair while I murmured the words of his native language.

I didn’t know how long I held him. No one came. No one woke. No one, no one, no one.

The chanting hadn’t worked, and now I just rocked him. Back and forth. Back and forth. The rain had cried itself out. I wished I could. My legs grew stiff and my back ached. The clouds parted and the sun peeked through. My eye caught a silver glint. A pin.

On Adam’s Council robes.

My fire had long since extinguished, and with that spark of silver, it ignited inside again. Leaning down, I kissed Hanai on the forehead and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Adam lay on the ground, his breath coming in shallow wisps. His torn shirt revealed his chest where the snaking sentry tattoo marred his flesh. The sight of those lines—a mark that would never go away—broke the dam inside. I bent over him and sobbed.

When I couldn’t shed another tear, I took a deep breath, cleared away the infernal tears and slid my arm under Adam’s back.

Fact: He weighed a ton.

Somehow, I managed to heave him to the vehicle. He coughed as I laid him across the seat. “Our…Council…prison.” He went limp again.

The whole front panel of the vehicle contained only confusion. I ran my hands along the sides of the steering column, beyond grateful when my fingers brushed something.

A key. I twisted hard, and the fans roared to life. The vehicle lifted, a cushion of air separating us from the ground. I had no idea how to drive. While I fumbled with various knobs and felt some pedals at my feet, a beep blared from Adam’s pocket.

A garbled voice.

I snatched the black box from his pocket.

“…Come in, Alex…. Adam?” Felix’s voice contaminated my ears, even through the device.

A long silence followed. I looked out the front windshield and found Alex staring at me. She’d managed to raise herself to a sitting position. The rain continued to fall, creating a misty curtain between us, but the hatred in her eyes penetrated the space, the rain, the glass. A slow crawl of blood moved over her cheek as she raised her hand to her mouth.

Another beep filled the vehicle. “Alex here. I’m down.” Her voice echoed with effort. “Send medics after you kill the Watermaiden and Earthmover.”

“I’ll send them now,” Felix responded. “Position?”

“No!” Alex barked, and I almost dropped the device from the dose of anger in her voice. “Kill them…first.” She coughed, a wet hacking sound from deep in her chest. “About five miles north of the city.”

“Copy location,” Felix said. “I’m on my way to the Enforcement Office.”

A deadly beep signaled the end of the conversation.

At least I knew where to find my friends—and Felix.

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands. The fans idled. We sat there, silent and unmoving.

“Adam?”

He didn’t answer. At least his breath continued to whistle in and out of his mouth. So did Alex’s. She hadn’t moved, which meant she was still staring at me.

My shoulders sagged. My feet relaxed against the floor. The fans roared.

I jerked my head up, looking out the windshield. Alex’s eyes had closed, as if she’d fallen asleep. I lowered my right foot to the floor. Fans: Screaming.

I lifted my foot and tried the other pedal. The fans settled into their usual rhythm. I pressed the right pedal again. The blazing vehicle remained stationary, despite the fans blowing full force.

Alex opened her eyes the next time I tried the pedal. Our eyes met. An unusually long moment of silence passed.

She raised her hand. In it, something black glinted.

I shoved up the door and leaped from the vehicle.

“Felix—”

I snatched the device before she could finish her sentence. She moaned, blood flowing freely from her nose now. Her chest heaved with the effort it took for her to breathe.

After I returned to the vehicle, my frustration returned. I banged both hands to the wheel. A lever jumped.

I yanked on it and jammed my foot on the right pedal. The vehicle shot forward, throwing both Adam and Hanai around. Adam groaned.

Hanai did not.

Alex’s body lay limp in the charred grasses. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. Hot tears stung my eyes. I seized on the warmth and used it to fuel my resolve. I hit something that felt very much like a soft body as I twisted the vehicle toward Tarpulin. I managed to keep the vehicle on a straight path toward the gaping northern gates. The five miles passed in mere minutes.

No one looked at me as I bounced through the gates and into the city.

Tarpulin was at least three times the size of Crylon. Luckily, the narrow streets were straight as spokes, all directed toward the tall buildings in the center of the city.

A few minutes later, I emerged into a large open square lined with shops and high-rises. One of them, made entirely of white stones, stretched into the clouds. The Supremist’s fortress.

I saw very few people in the streets. I probably should’ve seen Elementals in their brightly colored silks, or shoppers ducking down side streets, carrying bags and baskets. With so little activity, a sense of fear permeated the air.

I eased into the square, wondering if I could drive anywhere on the cement surface. I did, and the first people I’d encountered pulled their hoods closer to their faces and walked faster. I quickly lowered the window. “Excuse me,” I said, but it came out more like a bark.

They took two steps back, eyeing the two bodies next to me.

“Enforcement Office?” I asked.

One woman raised her hand to her mouth, probably because of the rancid scent of my breath. It smelled like brimstone, even to me. The other pointed a shaky finger to her right. “One block down. Left another block. You’ll need an entrance permit.”

I nodded my thanks so I wouldn’t have to breathe fire on them again. I didn’t have a permit, but I wasn’t playing by the rules.

As I rounded the corner, I saw Felix limping up the steps of a two-story building at the end of the block. I pressed the pedal to the floor, and the vehicle shot forward.

He turned, surprise coloring his cheeks. When he saw me coming, he scrambled up the last of the steps and through the door, which banged shut behind him.

The vehicle had barely stopped before I flew up the stairs after him.

Door: Locked.

Like that stopped me. I simply lit it on fire and kicked until the flaming wood gave way. I stepped through the burning wreckage.

The Enforcement Office held row after row of metal desks, beyond which lay a barred wall that extended in both directions. Behind the bars, people wearing ragged colored robes stood as if one person. Incarcerated Elementals. I clenched my teeth to keep from shouting obscenities.

The sentries closest to me stood. Their mouths hung open in identical expressions of shock.

“Sit,” I barked.

They sat, which allowed me a view of the only man I was looking for.

Felix leaned against a desk in the rear of the room, gesturing madly with his hands. A sentry handed him a key.

“No!” I ran down the aisle, spikes of fire dripping from my hands. “No!”

He turned slowly, that key clutched in his filthy fist.

“Release these Elementals,” I said, slowing now that I’d closed the distance between us. He took a step to his right and I mirrored him with a step to my left. “Someone better get over here with the keys to these cells,” I yelled. I snapped my fingers and sent a spiral of fire to the ceiling. “Now.”

I didn’t take my eyes off Felix, but I could sense the way the other sentries looked to him for direction. He smiled, like he enjoyed seeing me in a rage.

All stayed still—until the kiss of metal met the tender skin on my neck. “You’re not welcome here, Firemaker,” a deep voice said.

Without hesitation, I threw my elbow up, knocking the knife away from my vital arteries. I tossed flames in the face of the sentry who’d come up behind me. “I don’t care if I’m welcome or not,” I hissed. “I need keys to this cell.” I scanned the room, where a dozen sentries gazed back at me with emotionless expressions. I couldn’t see their knives, but I knew they all had them.

“I will burn this building to the ground,” I threatened. “With all of you inside—if I don’t get the keys in the next ten seconds.” I fisted my hands as they burst into flames. I felt just crazy enough to do exactly as I had said.

Thunks echoed through the silence as keys hit the floor. “You.” I pointed to the sentry who had given Felix the key. “Get them all. Open the cells. Now.”

The sentry did as I instructed, without waiting for Felix’s permission. As the Elementals came out of their cells, they moved to stand behind me. My heart pumped, pumped hard in my chest until I saw Isaiah’s bald head and blind eyes. He supported Cat, who limped beside him, her dress a ragged mess of ripped fabric.

“Isaiah,” I said. “Cat.” I ran my fingers along her forehead, smoothing her hair out of her face. Her right eye bore the shadow of someone’s fist. Something in my mind snapped, and I struggled against unleashing everything I had right then and there.

“Everyone needs to get out of here.” I spoke in a quiet, controlled voice that sounded as crazed as I felt. “Isaiah, take Cat outside.” I ignored the scraping noises behind me. Pounding feet signaled the flight of the sentries and Elementals. At least I wouldn’t have unwanted casualties this time.

Because I could already feel the storm brewing inside. The fire responded, encouraging the frustration, the fury, the injustice, to ignite into something more.

A reason.

I worked up the saliva—and the courage—to say his name. “Felix.” The word scraped across my tongue.

He smiled as if in slow motion, plastering his angular face with mock joviality. I thought of Adam, unconscious in the vehicle. I thought of Jarvis, and a river of flames rose behind my eyes. I thought of Hanai, and smoke curled from my fists.

“Gabriella.” He spoke a challenge in that one word.

I strode toward him, something he clearly wasn’t expecting. He shuffled back, meeting the bars behind him.

I punched him right in his foul mouth. He recoiled and caught my fist on the next swing.

“Don’t touch me,” I growled, my hatred escalating into a terrible cloud of smoke. “You’re a filthy, disgusting—”

“I wouldn’t finish that if I were you.” Felix twisted my wrist, sending a hot pain to my shoulder.

“You set that fire! You ruined Adam. You killed Jarvis.”

Felix twisted harder, and I bent my arm behind my back. He pulled me into his body. My skin blazed with discomfort, with fear.

“I didn’t set that fire. Adam ruined himself. And Alex took that boy and used him all up. What else have you got?” His breath grazed my neck, much too close.

“You told Jarvis to set the fire.”

“Mmm, true.” His lips brushed my earlobe. “That Firemaker knew how to obey. How to beg.”

I screamed and tried to twist away. I almost made it, but his fingers tightened along my arm. “Oh, come on, Gabby. Your boyfriend Jarvis pleaded with me to let you live.” He kissed my neck. His other hand came around and planted itself against my stomach, effectively trapping my other arm against my side. “He got what he wanted.”

Every trapped, caged-in feeling I’d ever had surfaced. The crushing hands of despair pressed against my chest, through my ribs. They clutched my heart and squeezed, squeezed until I couldn’t breathe against the confining walls.

I reached out, expecting to feel the barrier there, the one that held me captive.

I felt nothing.

With Felix’s disgusting mouth on my skin, the scent of him choking in my throat, I realized something. The walls had never been there.

I’d been caging myself all this time.

“Let me go.” My voice hardly sounded like my own.

He answered by stroking his tongue along my ear.

I freed one hand and balled it into a fist. With a grunt, I swung up and back, meeting Felix’s nose in a crack of bone. He released me, and I called on my fire.

Blood flowed down his face. He lunged forward, gripping the collar of my robes. His blood dripped onto my cheek as he glared down at me.

With his mouth a breath away, I said, “Don’t touch me again.”

He paused, and I exhaled, pushing my breath out as hard as I could. Flames sang from my lips and formed a halo around Felix’s neck.

He slapped at them, trying to get away but meeting the prison bars. I took two stumbling steps back as blisters formed and popped. The flesh melted, giving way to blood. To his credit, he didn’t scream until crimson stained his shoulders.

Then he begged. I raised one hand in slow motion and pulled the fire back into my body. A fierce rushing sound painted over all other noise.

Felix cradled his face, tears mixing with the gore. I didn’t look away. I’d hurt him badly, but I couldn’t feel anything.

He glared, a definite glint of murder in his gaze. He lunged forward, his hands stretched toward me. “I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth. I’ll—”

I pressed both hands forward and two barbs of flame erupted. His clothes caught the fire, and they blazed merrily while Felix screamed.

The flames danced along the wooden floor, excited to be together. The papers on the desk smoked and burst into bright orange fire. I stepped through it and left the Enforcement Office, unable to endure Felix’s anguish, but entirely unwilling to stop it.

Davison met me at the vehicle, beyond late. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. At least three dozen freed Elementals formed a tight group behind me, and together we faced Davison.

“I did what you wanted.” Smoke poured out of the office behind me. Concern didn’t register on my emotional scale.

“What in the blazes happened?” His eyes flicked from mine to the door of the Enforcement Office, to the swarm of Elementals, to the two people in the vehicle.

“I lured Alex out to the plains.” I still hadn’t looked fully into his eyes. I knew what I’d find there. Loathing. “Just like you asked.”

“She’s dead. I left my sentries to search for anyone alive.” Davison sounded beyond furious. “You burned a lot of acreage.”

“My Airmaster needs medical attention,” I said.

“Why is that building burning?”

I finally looked up, right into his fiery eyes. “Because I lit it on fire.”

“Are there people inside?”

The image of Felix’s cruel sneer rose in my mind. “Define ‘people.’”

Davison turned, already gesturing. “Susanna, Donella, Olivia—if you would, please. Search for survivors.”

None of the Watermaidens would look at me as they passed. I didn’t understand why Davison bothered. “He won’t survive.”

“This is not what Councilmen do,” he said.

“Oh, right,” I said. “I should’ve sent my Unmanifested or my sentries to kill all those people.” As soon as the words escaped, they floated in my ears, repeating and reorganizing into I kill people.

Davison stepped toward the vehicle, toward Hanai, his mouth saying words I couldn’t hear. A white frame edged into my vision.

My stomach clenched, and I bent over. “I killed him. Hot blazes, I killed him,” I said over and over, thinking only of Hanai and how he wasn’t breathing. I retched, and then the square of whiteness covered everything.

Paperwork needed to be filed and finalized, meetings attended, motions approved, messages sent to the far cities. Davison had the support of every Councilman in the United Territories, and he was appointed the new Supreme Elemental. As busy as the twentieth floor in Gregorio had been, that activity was nothing compared to what Davison organized in Tarpulin.

The Earthmovers, including Isaiah, were commissioned to clear the Elemental school. Airmasters took over communications, sending messages through the air.

While things were being reorganized and reassigned, I took the liberty of drafting a new clause that would eliminate the marriage requirement for female Elementals.

I delivered the single sheet of paper to Davison, who took it with a heavy sigh and a small smile. He didn’t say he’d make it happen, but that didn’t matter. I would make it happen.

I retreated to a bedroom near a garden Hanai would’ve loved. Cat stayed close to me, and I was secretly glad, unsure if I could bear to be alone with myself. When Isaiah returned from his work excavating the school, he shared a room with Adam down the hall. I spent most of my days in their room, waiting for Adam to wake up.

Desperately praying and hoping that he would wake up.

Cat had taken on the public face of our Council—she attended all the meetings, she spoke to the right people, she filed the paperwork so we could attend diplomacy training.

I kept watch in a hard, straight chair next to Adam’s bed. Sometimes I talked, telling him about my work in the kitchens in Crylon. I told him about my friendship with Patches and then all about running through the forest with Jarvis. About Educator Graham. And how I wanted to see the sun reflect off the wide waters again.

I cried a lot. Mostly when I realized that Adam hadn’t moved for hours. Or when I thought about Hanai, the gentleness in his hands, the slow curve of his smile. After I let myself drift to those thoughts, I couldn’t breathe.

Isaiah brought food I didn’t touch. Cat brought paperwork I didn’t sign. Both of them watched me carefully, like I was a doll that might break at any moment. They were probably right.

Two days later, the paperwork merely needed my signature, sloppy and childlike as it was. I’d been enrolled in reading lessons, something I should’ve been eager to attend. But Hanai should’ve been sitting next to me in class, and he wouldn’t be. He’d never learn to read, and I found I didn’t want to either.

Isaiah settled on the edge of the bed, humming a tune I’d heard many times in my past life in Crylon. He lightly touched Adam’s hand. “Has he moved at all?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Gabbers, this isn’t healthy. You need to get out of this room. Come to the school and help.”

I swung my head harder. “No.”

Isaiah sighed and dropped both hands to my knees. “Gabby,” he said. I noted he hadn’t called me Gabbers. “He may not wake up.”

I’d thought of that, too many times. “He will.”

The patterning lines of the tattoo still washed over Adam’s face and neck, disappearing under his clothes. I traced the darkest one from his chin, over his jaw and cheek and up into his hair.

Alex’s words from the plains played over and over in my mind. Adam is a silly boy. He doesn’t love you. He’ll abandon you. I shoved the words away.

“He will wake up,” I repeated, more to assure myself than Isaiah.

“Cat insisted that you sign these documents.” Isaiah held out a folder stuffed with papers. “She told me not to leave until you agreed to do it.”

“Leave them on the table. I’ll do it before I go to bed.”

“Cat’s already signed. So have I. We just need your signature…and Adam’s. And Davison wants to know who our Unmanifested is going to be.” The pain in Isaiah’s voice mirrored the hot stab running through my chest.

I couldn’t answer. Just like I couldn’t erase the image of Hanai, burning and not breathing, from my head.

“He suggested Liz,” Isaiah murmured.

“Liz?”

“She lost her Firemaker and her Watermaiden to Alex,” Isaiah whispered. “Davison is appointing the Earthmover and Airmaster to Elemental diplomacy divisions in Cornish and other Unmanifested villages. It’s part of his new integration program.” He cleared his throat. “Liz will be sent back to Crylon if we don’t take her on.”

Back to the laundry facility, I heard in my head. A death sentence.

“Great, let’s take her on.”

Isaiah grunted his approval and paused in the doorway. “You’ve got to leave this room. Your reading teacher says she’s ready any time you are.”

“In a minute,” I said, curling into a ball in the chair, my gaze never leaving Adam’s face.

When I woke up, the late afternoon sunlight sent deep shadows scurrying across the floor. As I rubbed my stiff neck, I noticed something different about the room.

The bed lay empty.

My heart pounded in my throat. Before I could stand, someone stepped into the doorway, the sun not quite reaching his face. “You finally woke up,” he said.

A sob caught in my throat, blocking the air. I jumped up and flung myself into Adam’s waiting arms.

The thrill at Adam’s awakening only lasted a few hours. His survival only served to remind me of Hanai’s death. So I existed in the same space with my Council, but we didn’t talk. We wordlessly prepared for our move into the newly excavated diplomacy wing of the school, barely looking at one another. I felt lost, adrift, inside my own head.

“I’ll meet you there,” Councilman Davison said, the words jolting me like an icy flame. I’d already nodded my agreement.

“Wait.” I looked around the guest bedroom blankly. “Where am I going?”

“The town square,” Davison answered, his voice fringed with frustration. “Your Council is waiting downstairs. We’ll be a few minutes behind you.”

“Who’s coming?”

“Only the whole city of Tarpulin.”

A fog lifted from my brain. “And I’ll be….”

“Announcing the new gender equality clauses,” he finished for me. “I’ve approved your motion to remove the marriage aspect of chartering Councils too. You agreed to announce it to the public.”

Every cell in my body flared to life. “I—I can’t. All those people.” I hadn’t felt this much panic since I fled from Adam and shredded my foot on the icy plains outside Cornish. Everything burned.

I tried to speak, but couldn’t. Davison’s voice boomed in my ears, dropping me to my knees. Shards of pain shot through my legs and up into my heart. Feeling so much—confusion, helplessness, desperation, betrayal—opened a dam inside that couldn’t be contained.

The calming scent of smoke helped. Of course Davison would know to light a fire in the hopes of comforting me.

Only when I heard the frantic shouting did I think there was something wrong. My skin itched. Something scorched my throat. The Elemental fire inside responded to the flames raging around me.

“Tornadoes! Gabby, knock it off!” Adam’s voice cut through the infernal pain. Through the hurt and anguish. His hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me through a barrier of heat and into someplace cool.

Frigid air rushed over my skin, calming the flames and driving the smoke away. I craved it. So I pushed Adam back and tried to find the ashy flavor again. He swore, this time picking me up.

Everything stayed dark. The smoke left, the voices fled, the fire retreated.

Only Adam remained.

“Stupid girl,” he said, his voice choked. “Trying to kill yourself?”

No, I said inside my head because my voice wouldn’t work.

“Good to hear,” he said. “Why are you so upset?”

I don’t want to talk to thousands of people. What if they don’t believe me? I wanted to open my eyes, but a veil of heavy darkness pressed against my lids. I don’t even know who or what to believe.

Adam’s lips came softly against my cheek. “Believe me, Gabby. Please, you’ve got to believe me.”

“But Alex said—” My voice raked through my parched throat.

“I know what she said. The Adam Gillman Alex knows—knew—was a selfish jerk who took advantage of anyone, anywhere, anytime to get what he wanted. I’ve already told you all this. You’ve got to make your own decision about me, Gabriella. Who’s the Adam Gillman you know?”

I opened my eyes to find nothing but love shining in Adam’s eyes.

“Gabriella.” It came out as a plea as he set me on my feet. Adam cupped my face in his marked hands. “Will there always be this gulf between us?”

I traced the haunting lines of his tattoo with my eyes. The lines on his face reminded me of what he was, of who Alex had made him.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, thinking that there was more than just the sentry tattoo between us. There was Hanai, too.

I stood to leave, the sadness in his eyes eating away at my already raw emotions.

As I walked away, I heard, “I love you.”

Blazes, I thought I could’ve loved him too, but I also thought any love I was capable of feeling had died with Hanai.

“I don’t want him there,” I stated. The conference table in front of me was metal and cold, and I folded my arms to contain a tremor.

“Councilman Kilpatrick, he is an invited guest.” Davison sounded like he had run out of patience fifteen minutes ago. Or maybe yesterday after my panic attack. He’d announced the changes in the law I’d insisted on. In fact, he’d met every one of my demands, right down to the color of robes we wore. I’d requested green, though I would’ve taken anything but the navy blue we’d been assigned in Gregorio. I fingered the emerald silk along my arms.

“Well, uninvite him.” I glared at Adam, who continued to stare out the window.

Davison exhaled through pursed lips. “He’s severely injured, and he’ll be chained. He won’t bother you.”

“Just having him here bothers me. Knowing he’s in the building….” I shuddered.

“I need to see him,” Adam said quietly as he turned toward me. “I have to look my brother in the face and have him see me as an Airmaster. A chartered Councilmember. Not a sentry.” His eyes burned with an intensity I’d never seen.

We stared at each other, the tattoo still wedged between us.

“Fine,” I said.

“Fine.” Adam turned back to the window, his hands clasped formally behind his back.

I hated this chasm between us, but I didn’t know how to bridge it. My nerves seemed even more exposed than usual. I felt dangerous, desperate, unsure. My fire surged and quelled as I attempted to make sense of the mess in my life.

“Councilman.” Davison had to say it twice more before I realized he was talking to me. He stood in the doorway, clearly waiting for me to accompany him to the ceremony.

“Sorry,” I murmured as I followed him into the hall. We headed outside and up the steps to a platform in the center of the town square. The evening sun had dipped below the horizon, bathing the city in pink light. Lanterns had been set up in the streets, illuminating the horde of people clustered in the square beneath the flickering firelight. I remained close to Adam, wanting to reach out and grip his hand. He’d squeeze back, helping to calm my raging insecurities.

Oh, how I wanted to. Instead, I existed with my own nerves.

Special seating for invited guests stretched in front of the platform. Felix’s heavily bandaged face stood out, and the air left my lungs. Two sentries stood behind Felix, and the petering sunlight glinted on the silver chains binding him to the chair.

Before I could reach for him, Adam laced his fingers through mine. My nervous energy only increased.

“People of Tarpulin, people of the United Territories.” Councilman Davison stood before the throng of people, his arms raised, welcoming them. I’d never seen anything like this in Crylon, but Davison said in Tarpulin, all new Councils were presented to the people.

“We present the re-opening of the Elemental Academy, and the first Council that will reside therein.” He gestured to me. “This is Gabriella Kilpatrick, a new female Firemaker and Councilman, as well as the girl responsible for the displacement of Alexandra Pederson.”

The babble in the crowd only increased as they all whispered to each other. I had no idea what they might be saying. And I found I didn’t care.

I was who I was. Gabby Kilpatrick, girl, Firemaker, Councilman. I didn’t know how to be anyone—or anything—else.

“You don’t have to be,” Adam whispered, nudging me forward.

Davison motioned for me to join him, a mask of confidence thinly veiling his frustration. I stumbled forward with Felix’s laser gaze burning into me. Then I straightened my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

I suddenly understood Adam’s desire to have his brother see him for who and what he really was. I wanted the same thing. I wanted Felix to see me as more than the girl who begged. I wanted him to see me as a Firemaker—and a blazing good one at that.

I didn’t know what emotion swam in his eyes. By the time Davison declared, “Councilman Kilpatrick is an excellent Firemaker,” it didn’t matter what Felix thought.

“I am a Firemaker,” I whispered only to myself. Well, Adam probably heard. After Davison’s words, I lifted my hand in what I hoped was a wave of gratitude.

“May I introduce her Airmaster, Tarpulin’s own Adam Gillman.” Davison stepped back, and Adam strode forward. His magnificent emerald robe billowed around his legs. He wore black pants underneath—a hint of his past life.

Like me, he raised one hand in a general wave, but a dash of wind crept through the crowd. Faces brightened. They turned toward each other, smiles in place.

Everyone except Felix. Even through the bandages and the blistered skin, he glared with a loathing so strong it pierced my heart.

Adam arranged his face in the same chiseled disdain as his brother. I placed one hand on his forearm, and the emotion dissolved into relaxed lines around his eyes and mouth.

Every eye caught our exchange, and now heads were bent together, surely discussing our assumed betrothal, old law or not. We should probably talk about it at some point, I thought, looking at Adam. He glanced at me, a glint of something bright in his expression.

“Isaiah Hawking, an exceptional Earthmover, has accepted his position on Kilpatrick’s Council.” Davison gestured to Isaiah.

Thunderous applause erupted, filling the square, the sky, the entire world, with appreciation.

Isaiah bowed low in his vibrant robes. “My people,” he bellowed in his huge voice. The crowd quieted as he began to sing. After a few bars in Isaiah’s baritone, Cat linked her arm through his and joined her voice to his. As she sang, rivulets of water fountained from the cracks in the sidewalk.

Something that felt like a smile pulled at my mouth.

Adam caressed my fingers with his before holding them tight. “Whatever I have to do to erase this distance between us, I’ll do it.”

I looked up into the soft, loving glow in his eyes. A tiny flame sparked inside me. Could I love him back? Enough?

“I’ll be whatever you want,” he added. “Whoever you want.”

I sighed. “I just want you to be the Adam I hope you are.”

“I’ll never stop trying.”

I blinked, and for the first time, saw the real Adam. The one he wanted Felix to see: The Airmaster.

Not the sentry. Finally, the tattoo meant nothing. I reached up and traced one line of it, from the corner of his eye to his chin. I tried a smile, and it felt okay on my face.

Cat and Isaiah’s song drifted into silence. A moment passed before applause erupted through the square.

Councilman Davison held up both hands. When the people had hushed, he continued with the introductions. “You just met Catherine Browning. She has demonstrated her vast expertise with water.”

I glanced at Cat, and she pulled me into an easy hug, like she used to in the dorms in Crylon. A bit of my former self awakened with her familiar friendship.

“Councilman Kilpatrick has chosen another friend from Crylon to be her Unmanifested,” Davison continued. “I present Elizabeth Nox for the completion of this Council.”

Liz stepped to my side, her nervousness obvious in her stiff posture. I put one hand on her arm, trying to infuse her with a sense of confidence I didn’t quite feel myself.

I closed my eyes in a long blink, and the image of Chief Tavar formed in my mind. His face radiated the parental pride I’d expect to see when he looked at Hanai. The Chief bowed his head, forgiveness blinking in his golden eyes before they closed momentarily. “Firemaker.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the words skimming across my tongue.

“Serve well,” he responded before fading into the darkness of my mind.

I opened my eyes and looked at the people below.

“People of the United Territories, your newest Council.” Davison swept his arm toward us.

Pushing my ache for Hanai deep inside, I stepped forward to take my place as the Councilman. I spread both arms and shot brilliant sparks of colored fire into the night sky.

The crowd gasped and cheered. They accepted me.

I finally belonged.

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Elana wishes she could experience her first kiss again, tell the mean girl where to shove it, and have cool superpowers like reading minds and controlling fire. To fulfill her desires, she writes young adult novels. She runs a personal blog on publishing and is a founding author of the QueryTracker blog, a regular contributor to The League of Extraordinary Writers, and a co-organizer of WriteOnCon.

Find her on Facebook, twitter, tumblr, Wattpad, or her blog.

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ELEMENTAL HUNGER
an ELEMENTAL novel
by Elana Johnson

Copyright © 2014 by Elana Johnson

Published by AEJ Creative Works

All Rights Reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Cover Design by Steven Novak, http://www.novakillustration.com/

Map drawn by Mikey Brooks - www.insidemikeysworld.com/

Interior Design by AEJ Creative Works

Table of Contents

Cover

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Map of the United Territories

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

About the Author

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