Let Me Fly Free (7 page)

And perhaps they can tell me what it is
that’s invading my homeland.

My steps quicken involuntarily, though
rushing is unnecessary when I’m about to make an instantaneous
journey. But I barely notice my surroundings anymore, for all I can
think about is how fascinating it will be to test my powers. In my
mind, I wrap my senses around that faraway fire, capturing it with
my magic until my body melts around me, becoming one with the
blaze.

A heartbeat later, I’m a weightless flame,
leaping and crackling in all its golden glory. I’m part of a
primitive wood fire, small but brilliant. Impatient, I quickly turn
back into myself, once again able to see with eyes instead of
senses.

Relishing the heat that wraps around me, I
keep to the middle of the blaze, with fire leaping from my hair and
melding into my hips. It makes me feel strong, powerful. And
certain that I can incinerate any human who threatens me. Yet an
unsettling sensation creeps up beneath my confidence, reminding me
that whatever monster lies within Kristakai would not be so easily
defeated, and that it could claim another victim any
moment—possibly even Kiri, alone in the library because I abandoned
her.

A newfound urgency grips me at the thought.
Casting my gaze around, I search the deepening shadow for the human
who set the fire. At first, all I find are more trees.

Then I turn to find myself looking into the
face of a man. A human man.

I stare. He appears altogether unremarkable,
with his round face, saffron complexion, and stout shape. A black
beard frames his mouth, which is slightly lined around the edges,
and dark curls spiral from his scalp. His manner of dress is
plain—brown trousers and white shirt with some sort of
loose-hanging blue garment around his neck. I recall seeing such
things depicted in books; I believe it’s meant to keep one’s neck
and chest warm.

I knew that humans were dull-looking
creatures, with their lack of magic, but I nevertheless find the
sight of him to be disappointing. He looks like a faded version of
a male sprite, except without the wings. And with two more feet of
height. Though he’s taller than me, I feel like the one who’s
towering, since I am fire while he … he is feeble flesh and brittle
bone and little else. The flames I savor would do him irreparable
harm.

From the look on his face, he seems aware of
how insignificant he is. He gapes at me, his dark eyes wide. I
don’t think he’s moved since I arrived—not even to blink—and his
shock is rather amusing. I suppose him seeing a nymph for the first
time would be more astonishing than me meeting my first human.

I’ve never had this kind of power over
another before, and excitement bubbles up in my chest. The glee
creeps onto my lips, curling the corner of my mouth into a
smirk.

Curious, I glance past the stunned man to
see what kind of place I’ve arrived in. The answer is not so
interesting; all I see is a bulky sack made of some kind of rough,
brown fabric lying on the ground. This man must be a lone traveler
who chose this spot to make camp—something I’ve read about humans
doing. Except the travelers in the books always seemed so intrepid
and daring, whereas the man before me seems more pathetic with each
moment he spends staring at me.

After all that doubt I suffered to bring
myself here, this is my reward? A man so weak, my very presence
paralyzes him, in the middle of a forest that hardly looks
different from the one I left? I twist my mouth in disappointment,
and briefly contemplate reaching out with my senses again and
traveling through another flame in hopes of discovering something
less … boring. But then I recall what I came here to do: find out
if the humans know anything about the Infernal creature, learn
enough to defeat it, then return before it can claim any more
lives. And I don’t know how much time I have before the
consequences of leaving my homeland weaken me, so I can’t afford to
go exploring right now.

This human may be feeble, but I must hope he
holds the knowledge I seek.

I float toward him, deciding that remaining
in my flame form is more impressive and therefore more likely to
persuade him to do as I say, in case my mind powers prove lacking.
But the movement makes the world around me tilt strangely, and my
head suddenly feels light. Not wanting to show any sign of
weakness, I hold my expression firm. Continuing forward should be
effortless, but instead, I feel … heavy, as if I’m carrying a sack
of rocks on my back. This is especially odd, since in my flame
form, I’ve always felt weightless.

The man, meanwhile, takes a stumbling step
backward, and I almost laugh at how stupid he looks.

“
Have you seen anything
wicked in these parts?” I ask, deciding to get straight to the
point. “Or heard any talk of Infernal beasts prowling
nearby?”

The man blinks several times, but remains
silent.

Annoyed, I cross my arms.
“Why don’t you speak?”
And why are you not
obeying my will?
I thought nymphs were
supposed to be able to command humans with a single word. My mind
powers evidently aren’t working; perhaps it’s because I phrased my
demand as a question. Hoping a different approach will work, I say,
“Tell me if you’ve seen anything wicked in these parts, or if
you’ve heard talk of any Infernal beasts prowling
nearby.”

His mouth moves this time, though his wide
eyes remain fixed on me. “You… You are the most ravishing creature
I’ve ever seen.”

Fool!
I scowl. Of course I am beautiful to human eyes—what nymph
wouldn’t be, when humans are such unremarkable beings and
accustomed only to seeing each other?

I move closer, hoping to intimidate him, but
the strange heaviness continues weighing on me, and sudden panic
seizes me as I realize the possible cause.

A nymph’s life force begins to drain the
moment she leaves her homeland…

Though I manage to hold my
commanding expression, I can’t stop the tension from seizing me
anew as a disturbing thought enters my head.
I have no idea how long I have before I die out here.
It could be days, and for all I know, this
weariness is all in my head—mere overexcitement. Or it could be
hours… Minutes, even, and I could already be toying with
death.

Either way, I have no time for this man’s
idiocy. “Answer me!”

Instead of obeying, the man’s expression of
shock melts into one of admiration. “Long have I heard of the
beauty of nymphs … the tales passed down through the generations …
and long have I desired to see one of your kind with my own eyes. I
never thought my wish would be granted.” He raises one hand slowly,
reaching toward my face.

“
How dare you?” Flames leap
from my skin as I swat his hand away, singeing him. He yelps in
pain and jumps back, clutching his injured palm.

“
It is true then.” His
voice quivers. “You are the embodiments of temptation—lovely, yet
untouchable.”

I don’t have time for
this!
Anger coils in my chest at how petty
and imbecilic this man is. I’m seeking to save my homeland from a
monster, and instead of answering my questions, all he can do is
fixate on my appearance? If all humans are this worthless, perhaps
it is a good thing that we nymphs are kept away from them, so that
we might be spared their stupidity.

He starts to continue, but I, in no mood to
hear more of his whining, yell, “Shut your mouth!”

To my surprise, his jaw snaps closed. And to
my greater surprise, I sense something new with my magic. It’s
similar to how I feel when I sense a distant flame, but this time,
it’s more … alive. Glittering with the energy of life, yet as
malleable as wet clay. I soon realize that it’s coming from the
human’s direction, and wonder if these are his puppet strings.

Curious, I bore my gaze into his. “Tell me
your name.”

“
Ronym Kah.” He meets my
eyes unblinkingly, all trace of his former admiration
gone.

These invisible strings, which I clutch in
my invisible hands … they’re his will. That means I can make him do
whatever I want. To test this theory, I say, “Stand on one foot.”
Speaking those words feels like tugging the strings, and it’s easy…
So, so easy.

He obeys, lifting his left boot off the
ground. His expression remains blank, as if he’s lost the ability
to control it.

A part of me tells me that it’s wrong to
manipulate another so completely, but I find I don’t care. No
wonder the humans were so afraid of us. My power over this man,
this Ronym Kah, is no different from my power over fire. Commanding
him is as simple as telling my own flames to burn brighter or to
retreat.

Fascinated, I give the strings another yank,
this time testing that new theory. “Set your foot back down and
tell me what you’re doing out here.”

Ronym complies, saying, “I am a bandit. I
prefer to live away from society, but when I need
supplies—necessities for survival—I rob traveling caravans.”

Ah, a criminal.
I have no reason to feel guilty for controlling
him, then. From what I’ve read, criminals are considered the lowest
form of human life, for they break laws to enrich themselves,
harming others in the process. No one in Kristakai is capable of
such misdeeds. I may have broken the laws of my kind by coming
here, but unlike him, I am doing it for something greater than
myself. I have not acted selfishly. Neither have I harmed anyone,
whereas he has just confessed to depriving his fellow humans of
items needed for survival. That puts us in entirely different
categories, and I have every right to look down at him.

Under different circumstances, I might have
taken a moment to revel in my newfound abilities, but I must return
to Kristakai as soon as I can. So I repeat my original command,
ordering him to tell me if he’s seen or heard of anything
Infernal.

“
I have heard rumors of an
ancient evil emerging from the Infernal Realm for the first time in
millennia.” Ronym’s words are stiff, drawn to the surface by my
will and not his own. “It is said that the creature has not been
seen since the Fiend was banished at the dawn of time.”

He knows of the
beast!
Perhaps my time here has not been
not wasted after all. “Tell me more.”

“
The creature is called a
thlakeen.” Ronym’s face takes on an expression of fear. “It dwells
in the water, but is capable of coming onto land. It feeds on the
living, delighting in blood, though magic is what it truly craves.
It can suck the life out of anything—plant and animal alike. I
first heard of it two weeks ago, when I was traveling through the
seaside town of Pirnue. The people spoke of how it took two
fishermen in its tentacles and swallowed one whole, but took only
one leg from the other. I met that second man; I had no reason to
doubt his account. He told me he was grateful to be alive, and that
the beast had moved on before it could do more harm. With its
power, it could have consumed all of Pirnue.”

That sounds just like the
beast that’s been terrorizing my homeland; it’s even causing the
same kind of pain.
A
thlakeen
… So the creature has a name after
all. Excited, I repeat, “Tell me more.”

The man knits his brows, and I can sense him
pulling back, as if he cannot—or will not—obey.

Angered by his defiance, I tighten my mental
grip on him. “I said tell me more!”

Sweat beads on the man’s forehead, and
through my senses, I can tell he’s wracking his memory. “I never
saw the beast myself, but it was described to me thus: the head of
a shark, the chest of an ox, the arms of a man, and the multiple,
twisting legs of an octopus, though whether there are precisely
eight, I do not know.”

I wrinkle my nose as I picture this unholy
mess of a monster. It sounds hideous as well as horrible. Then I
imagine the powerful shark teeth that likely closed around the
sprite’s limbs and ripped them from their sockets, and a shudder
runs down my spine. A chill engulfs my whole body as I picture how
large this thlakeen must be to grip two humans in its tentacles…
Why, it could be taller than the trees.

But then I recall how it first came to my
attention—the unfortunate little frog, who suffered injuries
similar to the sprite’s. It hardly seems likely that such a large,
overwhelming monster would have the dexterity to take part of a
being so small and leave the rest.

“
There must be more,” I
say, clenching mental fists around Ronym’s will.
“
Tell me
.”

The man shakes his head. “That is all I
know.”

I narrow my eyes. Since I hold his will, he
cannot be lying. And yet, I detect some kind of untruth behind his
words. For a moment, I struggle to reconcile this paradox, keeping
my grip on him all the while. How is it possible for a person to be
both lying and not at once?

Then, it hits me: He might
not know that he’s lying. He might
believe
that this is all he knows,
but further information actually lies within his mind, nearly
forgotten but still there.

Whatever it is, I need to
know. The fate of my homeland depends on it.
My
fate depends on it.

I yank forcefully with my magic, until I can
sense his mental strings stretching to near breaking. I don’t know
what will happen if they actually break, and I hope I won’t find
out. My heart pounds from the effort, and the unnatural weight
within me grows heavier. I can’t tell if it’s from the effort of
commanding him or if I’m growing weak from being outside
Kristakai.