I don’t even know what to say. My own eyes are wet.
“It’s bullshit,” he whispers. And Kellan appears in front of us, kneeling down in front of his broken colleague, saying gentle things, no doubt working his mojo, so I take my hand back, off of Earle’s arm, and leave them alone.
I am consumed by what Earle’s revealed to me for the next hour. Whatever Kellan did to him must’ve worked, because the Cyclone is no longer the damaged man I sat next to. He’s not smiling and laughing—not by a long shot—but he’s focused and back on task.
He’s also taken lead, which means he’s scouting and nowhere near me and my careless words. I beat myself up mentally, especially in light of Caleb’s constant reminders over the last couple months to get to know the people that I work with. Know more than just their name, he’s always telling me. Being a Magical on a mission isn’t like working in some non’s office, where you stand around the water cooler and gossip about last night’s big game. Magicals are different. We’re a special, small group—it’s important to know and protect those around us. You never know when it’ll count the most.
And, honestly, he’s right. Had I even spent five minutes going over the team’s bios, I might’ve known ahead of time that Earle had lost somebody—fairly recently, if I’m not mistaken—and questions like mine weren’t the best of ideas. So now I feel like a total heel.
I want to ask Kellan how Earle is doing, but that would mean I’d be the first one to break radio silence and I’m not down with that, as immature as that makes me. I turn, instead, to one of the other Guard. This one is a woman. She’s got silver streaked black hair that’s truly beautiful. Caleb lets me know, without too much censure after my last gaffe, that her name is Nivedita. Since the pull is pretty strong, and I figure Kellan is close by, I end up whispering, “Is Earle okay?”
Her features soften—they are less Amazonian now and more sympathetic. “Oh, to be sure, no. Not even remotely.” I like her voice, how her Elvin accent, so British-like, wraps around her words. “And that’s to be expected, isn’t it?”
I nod. “Just what hap—”
Before I can get the word out, the very person I was about to ask about literally comes flying through the air and crashes, hard, against a nearby tree.
Nivedita screams his name and charges forward at the same time as hands drag me back against a hard chest. And then, like a nightmare vividly springing to life, a piercing keening fills the woods surrounding us, a sound I haven’t heard in nearly a year. My bones ache in terror.
Kellan lets go of my upper arms and grabs one of my hands instead. And then we’re running back in the direction we first came from, but not before I see flames exploding from Nivedita’s fingertips.
The Elders are here.
“Kellan!” the Guard whose name I don’t know—why don’t I know it?—calls out, and my Connection barks out a series of orders to delay the Elders. Protect the Creator, he says, and it’s surreal, because he means me, I am to be protected, and it makes no sense, not with Earle lying in a crumpled heap against a tree.
Earle’s husband died because of the Elders. Please, oh please, do not let him have died, too, at the hands of the same beings. I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around that horrible irony.
“We need to go back,” I yell, my hand crushed beneath his vise grip, but Kellan doesn’t respond. He’s running through the woods, practically dragging me, and I’m flashing back to the time I raced across the Bay Bridge with Elders hot on my trail. Instinct took over then—survival is such a strong motivator—and it’s here, now. But even so, I can’t leave Earle, and Nivedita, and that other guy. What’s his name? I should know his name.
Walls of water rip from the ground, churning sheets that curve into an arc that reaches above our heads. “Harou!” Kellan shouts, and he angles us to the right. “Get them off us NOW!”
Flames entwine through the water. Harou must be a Tide, and he must not be too far back. Nivideta, too. A quick glance behind shows two Elders, all black and nebulous, distorted beyond form, at the most, ten feet back.
And they are gaining.
“Kellan! Behind us!”
Impossible at it seems, his hand tightens around mine. “Already on it!” And then the screaming behind me intensifies, sounds of agonizing pain.
Kellan is attacking them.
I refuse to be a victim. There are three Guard somewhere behind me, fighting to keep me safe. One of my Connections is here, too, and I absolutely will not allow anything to happen to him. I rip the trees down from around us, shredding the forest as I throw everything I can at the shape-shifting beings.