Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10) (11 page)

Sip shrugged. “I’ve been so bored, I needed the exercise.”

We were still standing there with clanspeople and Bounty Hunters - at least those who hadn’t melted into the shadows - staring at us, and especially Lisabelle. At Sip’s words some of their mouths fell open. One werewolf and one darkness mage against an entire Black Market was just some exercise, because sure.

“Forgive us,” said one of the clansman, “but what is to become of us?”

Sip crossed her arms over her chest and the darkness premier braced for what was to come. Even I could recognize the look on Sip’s face. She was about to give a lecture.

“I don’t want to come home,” I whispered under my breath, but no one heard. Everyone else was focused on Sip.

“I’ve tried to help the clans,” she said, “the paranormals on the outskirts. I know the Nocturn war was devastating. I know there are many who will never recover, but if you keep breaking paranormal law, if you keep acting like we are the enemy, if you keep trying to kidnap and kill boys for your own profit, then nothing will ever improve. I have fought for years to save the paranormals because I saw the good in the paranormal world, but this is not the good. A Black Market with black goods is a CRIME. Know what a crime is? It means you’re doing something illegal! Just ask Lisabelle.”

Sip was on a roll, so she didn’t really notice that many of the watching paranormals shook their heads no, or that Lisabelle raised her eyebrows, not in a denying it sort of way but more in an “If you think I’m explaining myself to anyone you’ve had more tea than I thought” sort of way.

Sip was still glaring angrily around as people started to shout.

“We don’t trust the government! They’re only out for themselves!”

“And you trust the Bounty Hunters more?” Sip looked appalled.

“They take care of us,” someone called out. “They give us food.”

“They give you dried beans sometimes, but only so they can run your lives. And when a paranormal who is vitally important to the survival of every paranormal drops in your lap, you hand deliver him to them for THEIR own gain!”

An uncomfortable feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to be vitally important to paranormal survival. I had trouble not spilling water on myself sometimes when I took a drink.

That is to say, I wasn’t that great at taking care of myself, let alone all the paranormals in the world.

“We should get going,” said Lisabelle. She squinted up at the black sky and I had the distinct impression that where I saw empty space, Lisabelle saw something more.

Sip nodded, then turned back to the crowd. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Until then, no more Black Markets.”

We were about to leave when I remembered the artifact I had seen earlier and said, “You might want to look at some of the artifacts they have.”

Lisabelle looked like she was about to refuse, but the Appraiser made a whimper and that drew her attention. She squinted at me and asked, “Why should I listen to you? Do you know how much stress you’ve put us through recently? Do you know how upset Charlotte’s been? And she really can’t afford to be upset right now!”

“Lisabelle,” Sip said in a warning sort of tone.

Lisabelle gave a huff, but she also switched gears. “Fine,” she said. “We can take a few minutes to examine the artifacts.”

I would have expected most of the crowd to disperse, but they hadn’t. Instead, many of them were still hanging around, silently watching my two companions as if they were gods. I guess to the clans they might as well have been.

After about twenty minutes, Lisabelle had examined all the artifacts laid out on the market’s tables. Sip had found an old teapot she liked and Lisabelle a black picture frame she thought would go nicely with her black furniture.

“Distribute the rest of the artifacts among yourselves,” Sip called out as she and Lisabelle started to walk away.

Hanging back and looking over the artifacts one more time, I shook my head in puzzlement. The thing I had noticed earlier wasn’t there. The flash of gold, a small item that had looked like a miniature chariot, was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s not here,” I muttered, picking through the debris that Lisabelle and Sip had left behind. Lisabelle ordered me to forget about it and again reminded me of how much trouble I was in.

I stalked over to the Appraiser and grabbed him by his robes. He started to sort of blubber; he was a bug who wielded his power to hurt instead of heal, and I had no use for him. He would happily have seen me killed or kept my power for himself, without thought or regard to me or my family.

“Ricky,” Sip hissed, “don’t hurt him.”

“Lisabelle nearly killed him,” I panted, as the man’s eyes bulged.

“That’s not what happened, Mr. Inventor of Reality, but sure,” said Lisabelle. “It is not my fault that the very thought of me . . .”

“Oh, shut up,” said Sip, cutting of whatever Lisabelle had been about to say.

None of the clansmen who were watching made any move to stop me, and some even looked like they relished what I was doing, as if they wished they’d had the courage to do it too.

The Appraiser’s feet were nearly off the ground. “Please,” he gurgled, “put me down.”

I glared up into the man’s eyes. “Tell me what you know!” I whispered. “Tell me! Where’s the artifact I saw this morning?” I knew I wasn’t crazy! My mind was not playing tricks on me; I had seen something and this man was trying to keep me from finding out what it was.

“It was a music box,” he said as I lifted him just a little further off of the ground. “I don’t even know what it does.”

“I would think music box would be self-explanatory,” Lisabelle cut in. When Sip glared at her she shrugged. “Maybe not?”

“I tried to find out what it did,” the man gasped. “I couldn’t even open it!”

“Ricky,” said Sip in warning, “put him down.”

That was twice in the last two minutes that Sip had used my name like a whip. I let the Appraiser drop to the ground. He fell in a shower of dirt and crying.

“Tell me where you put it,” I said. At the very least I was going to take it back home with me.

“It’s still in my tent,” he said. “Under my pillow.”

“Not the most original hiding place,” said Sip. “We’ll wait for you,” she told me.

I nodded and hurried away. I knew where his tent was, because it was the only one in the whole camp with a fire pit in front of it. I passed the fire pit at a jog and pulled back the tent flap, only to rear back in disgust. The place was rank, with so strong a stench of dirty and rotting flesh that I nearly gagged. The Appraiser had smelled awful, and now I knew why.

His bed was raised high on a sort of dais, and all the blankets and quilts looked expensive but worn. He even stole his bedding. I was reluctant to touch his pillow, but I was in a hurry, so I didn’t have a choice. Steeling myself, I lifted up the pillow and saw a small package wrapped in leather. I picked it up quickly and hurried back to the paranormal president and the darkness premier.

As I got closer to my older sister’s best friends, I studied them curiously. Lisabelle was glaring at the assembled Bounty Hunters while Sip was talking quietly with some of the clan leaders. Lisabelle wore her power so easily she didn’t even realize she had it, while Sip was overly aware that all eyes were on her. She kept an eye on everyone in the clearing, her purple gaze touching each paranormal in turn.

They weren’t looking at each other, but the two old friends were clearly aware of what was happening in the other’s vicinity. I had a feeling that at the first sign of trouble Sip would transform into a werewolf and be on top of whoever was hassling Lisabelle, and I didn’t even want to think about what Lisabelle would do to someone who hurt Sip.

“I got it,” I called out in response to the darkness premier’s questioning look.

I handed it to Lisabelle, who in turn tucked it into her dress.

She nodded curtly. “Ready?” she asked Sip, and the blond werewolf nodded. “I’ve told them I’m going to send my assistant Bertrum here to discuss their needs in more detail.” Sip’s assistant was the sort of nervous fellow for whom smiling was an unfamiliar bodily function. He wore tiny spectacles over his pinched cheeks, the tiny glasses making his scrunched expression worse. He was, however, exceptionally knowledgeable about paranormals and good at helping his boss.

“He’s going to think you’re punishing him for something,” said Lisabelle. “Who would want to be sent here?”

“It’ll be good for him to see these people,” she said. “He spends too much time studying paranormals and not enough time living a paranormal’s life.”

“He’s never going to be able to find them,” I said, thinking of the caves that had no paths leading up to them.

“If we can find you, an accomplished paranormal who did not want to be found, he can find the clans,” said Sip. “I’ll help him if he needs it. These paranormals need assistance. I can’t just leave them here with no hope, or the whole cycle will start all over again.”

The clans people watched us go. Lisabelle had turned the Bounty Hunters over to their mercy, and she had issued a warning to the hunters: “It is up to them what is to become of you despicable lot. If you hurt them I will know, and I promise you with every fiber of darkness inside me, you will regret it.”

There wasn’t the remotest hint that any of the hunters disbelieved her. I walked away from the Black Market just fine, thanks to a relaxed werewolf and a calm darkness mage. Or something like that.

At first we walked, and once we were out of the circle of light provided by the public square my eyes started to adjust to the darkness. All I could see in any direction was barren land, dotted with a few shrubs here and there. But I had spent enough time with Charlotte and her friends to know that appearances were deceiving.

“Over here,” said Lisabelle. She led us to one of the shrubs, and beneath it I saw two long sticks.

“Have you checked your Contact Stone recently?” Sip asked.

“I don’t use a Contact Stone, as you know very well,” said Lisabelle.

Sip sputtered, appalled at the very notion. “I don’t see how a darkness premier can function without a Stone,” she said. “I thought you might have changed your mind at last.”

“Oddly enough, inspiring fear works as well as responding to voice mails,” said Lisabelle. “In other news, I’m not big on dialoguing.”

“You pretend to jest, but I know you aren’t really kidding,” retorted Sip.

Lisabelle had apparently had enough of the sparring, because now she turned to me and said, “Oh, and one more thing I almost forgot.” Then she snapped her fingers and turned her hand over, and there was my elemental ring.

I grinned at her and took it. “Thanks,” I said.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, then she eyed me sternly. “Seriously, don’t. Your sister would be furious if she knew we’d had to rescue it.”

That business accomplished, Lisabelle bent down and hefted the sticks. She handed me one broom, the shorter of the two, and kept the other for herself. She smiled. “How good are you at flying?”

“I can barely stay on, and I always thought that if I tried to fly for any distance, I’d die,” I said. I had always secretly been relieved that flying was primarily the domain of mages, one of which I was not. “Sip, you running?” I asked, and the werewolf nodded.

“Four feet on the ground thank you very much,” she said.

“So, she’s short and she has four legs,” said Lisabelle.

“We aren’t going to camp for the night?” I asked. “You don’t want to debrief me or whatever?”

“Do you have something interesting to tell us?” Lisabelle asked in return. “Did you see Cynthia Malle walking around the street of one of the places you visited? Personally, I would have reported that, because she’s dead, but what do I know?”

I sputtered. “Of course I didn’t see her!”

“We can talk once we’re with Charlotte, then you won’t have to repeat yourself,” said Lisabelle.

“Don’t you really mean that you won’t have to listen to him tell the story twice?” Sip asked.

“Yes, but he doesn’t need to know that!” said Lisabelle.

“Oh, don’t worry, I kind of already did,” I said.

“You’re definitely Charlotte’s brother,” said Sip. “She didn’t let Lisabelle get away with much either.”

“And I protected her from certain death anyway,” said Lisabelle. “I deduct that as charity.” With that she kicked into the air, and I watched the dark shape soar skyward.

For a few brief seconds Sip and I were alone. I felt like I should take advantage of being alone with the paranormal president to ask for something or beg for something, but I did neither. In fact, I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I knew I should ask her how she was doing, what had happened while I’d been away, but I wasn’t ready to care yet.

“Ready?” she asked, and I nodded.

“We might have some company flying,” she said, glancing up at Lisabelle circling above us, probably not patiently. “We both have a lot of paranormals we have to talk to on a regular basis.” I nodded again.

“I’m sure it won’t faze me,” I said. Sip smiled as if I had said something funny, then suddenly Sip as I knew her wasn’t there anymore.

In her place was a werewolf. At the very moment when she changed, the wolf started running around at a very fast pace. She paused, jumped a couple of times, and yipped. I hopped on my broom and pushed off, but I was so unsteady I nearly toppled off before I could get going. I had barely ever ridden a broom, and I wasn’t a fan of heights. I had no choice at the moment, though, so I ordered my hands to get a good grip on the thin strip of wood and tried again. Maybe it was time I got it together and learned to fly; after all, brooms were practical for travel. Over the past three years the skies had become much more dangerous, but I probably didn’t have to worry about that while I was traveling with the darkness premier.

Heavy in my satchel was the artifact I had taken from the Bounty Hunters. At the very least I hoped I could return it to its rightful owner, although how I would find out who that was and how I would get it to them I had no idea.

Right now all I wanted was to concentrate on staying on the damned broom.

I glanced down once to make sure Sip was following, but I couldn’t see the wolf anywhere. Given that Lisabelle was clearly not worried - she was dashing through the sky at a speed a plane would be jealous of - I had to assume that somewhere down below was Sipythia Quest.

I wanted to ask where we were going, but I didn’t dare bother Lisabelle.

The night proved to be very long. First, a group of dragons surrounded the darkness mage. They flowed past me so quietly and gracefully that when I saw one of the creatures suddenly in front of me I nearly fell off the broom. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if I had, since there were several more flying below me.

As it was, I gasped and held on tighter. One of the dragons went to fly next to Lisabelle, as if it needed to speak with the mage. I wondered what that kind of conversation was like, but Lisabelle at least slowed down for it. Now I understood Sip’s warning not to let myself be surprised. If I had let myself be surprised by dragons, I’d probably be dead. Or Lisabelle would let me fall and fall until I’d almost hit the ground, then she’d go to the trouble of saving me. Again.

What made the ride all the more difficult was that I still wasn’t sure it was worth it. I hadn’t agreed to do anything except go with them; I had hardly had a choice under the circumstances. But being with them was definitely going to be temporary.

We flew for so long that the sun was just rising into a pale gray sky by the time we halted, and my eyes felt grainy and kept trying to close. I took several deep breaths as we began our descent, hoping that this would be the last time I’d have to fly for a while. I didn’t enjoy it, I wasn’t very good at it, and I had found keeping track of Lisabelle taxing. After hours of it, I had started to daydream about what would happen if I just landed my broom in the nearest clump of trees and laid my head down. When I wasn’t thinking about solid ground I was stewing, because this most definitely wasn’t what I wanted to be doing. Sure, they had rescued me from the clutches of certain slavery, but I wasn’t going to give them my soul for it, that would just be a different version of the imprisonment I had escaped in the market. Then again, I knew they wouldn’t ask for my soul, so I was still left with the question: What next?

When I touched down, Lisabelle was waiting next to Sip on the ground. The darkness mage looked just as she had the night before, not tired or remotely ruffled by hurtling through the air in the dark for hours. Not even the strange flow of visitors who had silently come to speak with her and then flown off seemed to have disturbed her calm in the slightest. I, on the other hand, felt like I was an exploded magical spell, all over the place and flattened.

Sighing, I looked at Sip. At least she had the decency to look a little tired. “Where are we?” I wondered out loud.

“About a day’s ride from Paranormal Public,” said Sip. I raised my eyebrows. We were closer to home than I had thought.

“Charlotte’s coming off the grounds to meet you,” said Lisabelle. “Somehow she thinks you might not like what she has to say.”

“Where are we meeting?” I asked, looking around. I cared enough about my sister that I really wanted a shower before I gave her a hug.

Sip beamed. “We’ve been offered rooms at the Duke’s summer palace.”

“The Duke?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Yes,” said Sip, “Duke Dacer.”