The Elementalist (19 page)

52

~Reconciliation~

Brecken

Brecken woke the next day in his barely illuminated basement bedroom. Only a sliver of light shined through the tiny basement window. He could hardly move. He was so exhausted and all of his muscles ached—from the stiff cords in his neck, like stretched rope—all the way down to his toes. He kept cramping up. Grabbing for the glass of water that sat on his nightstand, he tried to drink, but the glass was empty. When he stood up, instead of his muscles and bones supporting him, they seemed to turn to jelly and he crumpled to the cold, cement floor.

Dazed and shaken, he sat there, trying to figure out what was wrong. And then he remembered. His trip to hell. How could it have slipped his mind, even for a moment?

He rested his head against the bed, tempted to cry at the debacle of his failed mission. He’d almost had Berith. Almost. He’d been so close, and then to be ripped away… Surely, the whole underworld knew of his failure. He shouldn’t care, but he needed them to think he was unvanquishable. Unstoppable.

Now he would have to do it all over again, and he would have to go through this terrible, immobilizing fatigue again. How long until he was strong enough to stand, let alone enter the spirit world once more?

“Heidi!” he yelled from his room.

He heard nothing. No running feet or slamming doors. He yelled again and again until she appeared at the top of the stairs.

“What!” she screamed at him, irritated, until she saw him crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. “Brecken? What happened?” Running down, she grabbed him under the arms, attempting to lift him, but could hardly help him stand, let alone pull him into his room and flop him onto the mattress.

After three tries, she finally got him onto the edge of the bed, but she lost her balance and fell on top of him, both of them grunting with the effort. “What the crap is wrong with you?”

Not wanting to explain, he told her what was easiest. “I’m sick, I think.”

She placed a hand on his forehead, concern in her eyes. “Well, you do feel a little warm, but not bad.” She tucked his feet under the sheets, pulling the blankets up to his neck. “You want something to eat?”

He nodded and she marched upstairs, leaving him alone to figure out how to find some energy, and fast. She came back ten minutes later with a bowl of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and a bag of saltine crackers. He was able to scoot to a sitting position, but he could hardly lift his arms, and Heidi ended up having to spoon-feed him.

Sophie stood at the foot of his bed, watching with wide eyes. “Are you sick, Brecken? You never get sick.”

He nodded. “I think I just need to rest and sleep.”

After an eternity of being coddled by his sisters, he finally laid down, covered completely with extra warm blankets the girls had brought downstairs. He closed his eyes and relived every moment of his skirmish with Berith, contemplating what he could have done differently, and then finally drifted into sleep.

***

Amber light stretched a thin finger through the window as darkness leeched the last light of day. Brecken rolled from his bed, this time able to support himself. Barely. Leaning against the wall, he shuffled to the stairs. Just as he was about step up, he felt a presence behind him.

“I thought I told you to stay away. To never come back.”

Lilim reached out but he jerked away from her, almost losing his balance.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, hanging onto the stair railing. His movements were slow and clumsy, but she followed behind him, her arms crossed over her chest.

A frown graced her lovely face, but her eyes showed a touch of humor. “I’m here to help you. You obviously need it.” Her lips cracked into a grin.

“Not from you.”

“Then who? The little Elementalist? She can’t help you.”

Brecken ignored her and continued his laborious ascent up the stairs.

“Bretariel, please,” she said, appearing suddenly before him. “I want to help you. Truly I do.”

He stopped, breathing heavily, one hand on the wall and the other on his knee. “How? By stabbing me in the back? I know you’re just waiting for the first opportunity.”

She frowned, her eyebrows pulling into an expression of hurt. “You know I wouldn’t. When they asked me to guard you, I gladly accepted. Not out of obedience or for recognition.”

“Then why?” He reached the top of the stairs and stepped through her, feeling the tingle of her presence wash around him momentarily, like pixie dust tossed up by a breeze. The feeling was not altogether unpleasant.

“You know why,” she said, following him into the kitchen.

“Do I?”

“You want me say it?”

“Yes.” He turned to face her full on. Her dark hair spilled over her arms and her pink lips were open in a pout, her face so familiar. For a time—ages ago—he had let his heart warm toward her, encouraging her hope for a relationship with the great Undoer. Their fling had been raw and passionate, but had died out quickly, like a wild, fiery explosion that lacked oxygen. Lilim couldn’t possibly feel the same way she used to. This was a hoax, a trap, and he wasn’t about to fall for it.

“I… I still… care for you,” she said.

“Really.” He shook his head and filled a glass by the kitchen sink with water, chugging down three glassfuls, one after the other. He moved over to the narrow pantry that held canned soup, pasta noodles, and jars of spaghetti sauce. He grabbed what was left of a loaf of bread and proceeded to make himself a sandwich, shoving bite after bite into his mouth. When he couldn’t eat another crumb, he hobbled over to the couch and fell to the cushions, turning on the TV.

“You have nothing to say?” She waited before him looking flabbergasted, her mouth agape, her eyes flaming.

He could see the TV right through her, but he leaned to side to see better, knowing it would irk her. “Huh? What? Did you say something?” He flipped through the channels, not even bothering to glance at her face. The room became charged with her anger, which was quickly building to tsunami strength. He held back a smile, but her burst of provoked energy crumbled with her next words.

“Bretariel,” she said softly. “I am not lying to you. I never could.”

Her tone sounded so sincere that he turned to face her, noticing the look of hurt in her eyes. He attempted to clutch the cold feelings of indifference inside his heart, but at her injured expression, he melted just a bit. It was possible she was being honest… maybe.

“Oh, Lilim…”

“Just let me say what I need to.”

“Fine,” he said. “Say it.”

She sat down beside him on the couch, her hand inches from his, but not touching. “They sent me to tell you that Alisa is dead. That they used a Nephilim sword on her.”

His eyes widened as his heart lurched. It couldn’t be true!

Lilim quickly continued. “It’s
not
true. They haven’t killed her, but they may. I don’t know. They wanted you to come back again. Bas Iblis wants a turn at you.”

“I’m sure he does.” Brecken sat back, contemplating her words. They felt true, and when he looked into her eyes, he knew they were. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You know why.”

“I’m not sure I do,” he said, wanting her to say the actual words.

She hesitated, seeming on the verge of admitting her feelings. “I’m sorry. This is all I can give you.” She began to sparkle and fade into nothing.

“Wait!”

She reappeared fully, her eyes wide with what could only be hope.

Brecken reached over and placed his hand over hers. “Thank you, Lilim. I won’t forget this.”

She offered a sad smile, but didn’t answer and disappeared completely before he could say anything more.

53

~And the Bell Tolls~

Bas Iblis

Bas Iblis glared down at Asmoday from his obsidian throne. The demon stood in the center of the great throne room of Gehenna, his arms bound behind him with shackles that would burn like the seeping walls of the prison.

No one made a sound.

Asmoday’s eyes were trained on the floor. He trembled as all looked on, knowing his fate.

“Your trial has ended, Asmoday, and you have been found guilty of disobedience. Do you have any last words?” Bas Iblis watched the demon, his eyes never leaving his face.

Asmoday raised his head slowly, finally meeting the eyes of his demonic commander. “I did all that I was assigned. I served in your army, never giving you cause to doubt my loyalty. I have done nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong!” Bas Iblis spat, leaping from his seat, growling his fury. Landing just inches from the prisoner, he grasped him around the neck. He raised Asmoday with one hand until the demon’s feet dangled at Bas Iblis’ knees.

“Did you actually think you could hide from me in Idir Shaol after almost murdering the vessel that housed the meddling guardian? Do you call that loyalty? If so, then it’s time you are cut from the ranks.”

Asmoday’s eyes grew wide and bulbous, looking as though they might pop from their sockets any second. His face turned purple as he hung in the air, and there was no one to stand for him or offer any words of defense. Nobody else wanted to die this day.

“You have made one mistake after another. The guardian is free and the Elementalist’s eyes are opened, so we have lost a very valuable adherent. You have failed miserably and will not be forgiven.”

Bas Iblis’ black horns sprouted out from the sides of his head and his grisly visage morphed into his true demon form, his face only inches from Asmoday’s. He pulled his lips back, exposing vampiric teeth, and his foul breath wafted over the lesser demon like a poison.

Slowly, he willed his deadly, black fingernails to extend into claws. He pressed them into the fleshy sides of the demon’s neck, dark fluid oozing out. “Your time in my service is at an end.”

Asmoday could not speak, just sputtered sooty blood from his lips, his terror clearly discernible.

With a swiftness that was not unexpected, Bas Iblis produced a Nephilim blade, slicing it through the demon’s neck, his head thunking down to the stone floor. Within seconds, Asmoday’s body erupted into a russet explosion of ash.

54

~Clearing it Up~

Claire

Claire made it home, literally, seconds before her mother. Taking the stairs two at a time, she raced to her room, ripping off her clothes as she went. She slipped on her pajamas and slid between the sheets just as her mom opened her bedroom door.

Claire glanced up, the epitome of pure innocence. “Hey, Mom. How was it?”

Angela smiled and leaned against the doorframe. “Good, actually. Fun.”

“Good.”

“I’m beat,” Angela said with a sigh. “I’m going to bed. Did you eat dinner?”

Claire gave her mom a look that said she was crazy for even asking. “Of course. I’m stuffed,” she answered, the rumble of her stomach answering the question in the opposite. Luckily, her mom didn’t hear it. “I’m tired too. See you in the morning?”

“Sure thing.”

“Hey, Mom?” Claire said as her mother began to shut the door.

Angela stopped and peeked through the gap. “Yes?”

“I haven’t said it lately, but… um… I love you. I just wanted you to know.” It was hard for Claire to admit this for some reason, and she hadn’t said it in a long time. She had never felt close to her mom—not for years—but she had always tried to understand her and obey her rules… well, mostly.

Angela straightened. “Oh, honey. Right back atcha.” She came into the room and gave Claire an unexpected kiss on the forehead, smoothing back her hair. “I’m sorry for everything too. I lost it with you the other day, and it’s been eating at me ever since.”

“Me too,” Claire said.

“Well, good night.” She squeezed Claire again.

“Night.”

***

Claire marched across the street to see Jamie before he could leave for school. He was just walking out of the door. “I need your help,” she said, walking back toward her house.

He followed, clearly confused, but obviously willing to do anything Claire wanted. Getting in the car with her, he tossed his pack to the back seat. “Where are we going?”

“We’re getting the gang.”

“No time. They’re probably all at school already. Katelyn has cheerleading practice early. Remember?” Jamie watched her like she was crazy, a look of amusement on his face.

She hadn’t remembered. Claire had been so focused on herself and her problems that no thought of her friends had entered her mind for quite some time. “We need them. Alisa needs our help and so does Brecken.”

“The guy in your bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Seriously, Claire. No.”

“Why?”

With a heavy sigh, he turned to gaze out the window, avoiding her penetrating stare. His jaw flexed and his lips pressed together. He actually looked really cute when he was irritated with her, which was often lately. She repressed a smile.

“It’s not that I like him,” she explained. “He’s Alisa’s boyfriend. She’s been kidnapped by demons, and we are going to help him free her.”

“You do realize how stupid that sounds, right?”

Claire clenched her jaw and stared ahead, trying to control her temper. Of course she knew how stupid it sounded. It didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

“It’s all very clear to me now,” Jamie said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of helping the crazy guy rescue his ghost girlfriend from demons.” He shook his head.

“If you don’t want to, just say so, and I’ll let you out, but I need help doing this spell. I realized that after last night. There is no way I could have brought Brecken back by myself, and whether or not you help me, I’m going to help him. He called this morning, determined to try again. Please, Jamie. Help me just this one last time.”

She knew that would get him. He wouldn’t want her spending time with Brecken at all, let alone being alone with him in such an intimate way. Wet and all.

“Fine. I’ll help.”

***

Within an hour, the whole group pulled up to Brecken’s house, everyone ditching school. Once she had explained the bruises on her neck and the attack in her basement, they were fascinated and eager to help. What a mess she’d made of these relationships and that thought weighed heavy. She didn’t want to lose her friends, but looking back over the last couple years, she could understand why their faith in her was tenuous. She promised herself she’d make it up to them and renew these fragile relationships.

Brecken was waiting on his front porch, Claire having called to warn him that they were on their way. When Claire noticed him sitting there, her heart rate accelerated. She chalked it up to seeing a really cute guy and doing something she was good at in front of him. It wasn’t because she had a crush or anything. He was just an exciting person who’d showed her a world that was vast and wondrous, but also dangerous and terrifying.

She realized her work in Elementalism, with and without Adam, had been important, and now she would get to use that ability for good. The Fourth Blood Moon was only a couple days away. She was as prepared as she could be, having her book and her friends behind her, if reluctantly. They were here at least, and after their last experience on the beach with Alisa, Claire was surprised they were here at all. They entered Brecken’s house—the morning shadows still heavy—and the rooms cold. As they sat on the couch in the living room, Brecken opened the curtains, letting in the late morning sunlight.

“Um, hey,” he said to the group of unfamiliar faces. “Thanks for coming.”

Katelyn lowered her sunglasses, studying him. “Okay, Claire. I see why you want to help him.”

Brecken blushed. Claire groaned inwardly as Jamie’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay, so you are all clear on what’s happening?” Brecken asked.

Wade glanced around nervous, and Kaden rolled his eyes.

“Does it matter?” Katelyn asked. “Claire wants to perform one of her rituals. We’re all here as moral support. Let’s just hope we don’t die in the process.”

Every time Claire’s friends helped her with something like this, it turned out as a disaster. She’d never done anything this serious before, but she needed their energy to keep Brecken in the underworld for a longer period of time, and their combined energy would help him heal afterward.

“I haven’t really told them what is going on,” she said, nodding and biting her lip. “But now is as good a time as any.” With a smile, she stood before them, insecure, as though it were the first time she’d talked about something so crazy. Normally, she would be filled with confidence as she bossed them around.

“So there really was a spirit trapped inside me. I was the one who called her here, but it didn’t work like I’d planned. A demon named Adam came and pretended to be an angel. Their leader, Bas Iblis, told me I was a part of their plan, but I learned I was only a chess piece they were using to keep Brecken’s guardian—Alisa—away.

“Adam actually tried to kill Alisa, which could have killed me. Anyway, I survived—by some miracle—and now we’ve learned that the demons are holding Alisa in some awful prison in hell. Brecken wants to rescue her.”

Kaden snorted and shook his head. “This story is even better than the other one, and even if it were true, who cares? Seriously. Who cares? So what if some spirit is captive in hell? What would saving her even do? Does it right some terrible wrong in the world? Would it destroy all demons everywhere forever?”

Claire could tell Kaden was ready to bolt, but she didn’t have much information other than what she’d already told them. Kaden’s questions were legit. What did it matter if Alisa never got out of prison?

It would leave Brecken available. That was what it would do.