Elemental Hunger (4 page)

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.