“So much for your plaything.”
Timpada smirked from where she hunched over the brazier. Flames smoldered around her fingers from the fire she’d conjured to speak to the old Fire Elemental who worked as a House Stewart in the government complex of Mirocyne.
Sinika shifted in his seat, unwilling to admit that Nirine’s absence from her chambers at the same time and place a manifestation of magic had enraged the Curse to fly bothered him. She would not betray his trust. But she also couldn’t be found.
“You seem to think my acolyte’s absence is a sign of guilt and not that she is already ahead of you,” Sinika said smoothly. He knew better than to show Timpada any doubt or weakness.
Timpada’s nostrils flared. Pronius chuckled.
“We will have to sit and wait.” Rhinnault leaned into his stone chair set along the rim of the circular Chapel of Hope where it rested high above the rest of Temple of Solaire. “When the Curse finds whatever used magic, then we will know what came to pass.” He crossed his ankles as he stretched.
“Unless Nirine contacts us first,” Sinika insisted.
Nuvahl muttered under his breath as he adjusted his blue robes, “Water elements should not be able to speak through fire.”
“She is powerful,” Sinika snapped. “Though to contact me she is calling on my power with the use of a fire spirit. She cannot use fire.” Sometimes he wondered if the old Water Elemental was daft. Sinika drummed his fingers against the stone that warmed to his touch. Nirine should not be missing without having called him first.
Moisture condensed around Nuvahl at the implication of Nirine’s strengths compared to his. Sinika warmed the air in the room. Humidity saturated the enclosed space, leaving droplets on the transparent walls. Only the two who controlled earth of the twelve Elementals in the room appeared unaffected by the hot dampness. Rhinnault, an Air Elemental, paled as if he were about to faint.
“Enough.” Timpada stood and returned from the center of the chamber to her chair. “I’m sure your… acolyte is powerful,” she soothed. “It is one of the reasons you’ve been training her.”
“One of the reasons.” Sparks danced between Ci’erra’s templed fingers as her glance brushed Sinika. A twisted smile that mimicked Timpada’s earlier one flitted across her lips.
Sinika played with an answer that he was certain Ci’erra enjoyed the fact she had not needed to sleep with her benefactor in order to join the High Council of the Church of Four Orders. But instead of speaking, a flare of fire rekindling in the brazier caught his eye.
“Did you hear me?” Kheten demanded. Only the furious stare lodged on him told Sinika she’d been speaking to him.
He held up a hand as he stood. “Hush.”
Kheten began to speak, but this time it was Nahrhia leaning forward to stare into the tiny wavering flames that stopped her words.
“Is that your Water Elemental?” Nahrhia glanced at Sinika. He nodded. “Impressive. She is powerful then.” She sat back, tapping the arm of her chair with a thoughtful look toward Nuvahl. He frowned.
“Be quiet, all of you,” Sinika instructed.
“Don’t trust your acolyte to tell us the truth?” Timpada’s voice purred.
“Not that,” Sinika smiled at the forceful Fire Elemental. “Until we know what has happened, it is best if she thinks she is speaking only to me. She doesn’t know much about the council.”
Sinika grasped the fire that called to him as the flames wavered about to die again. They flared under his power, rising to over three feet high, though the tiny bed of coals shouldn’t have been able to support such a furious blaze. Distantly he felt Nirine’s cool touch. Fire and Water, they were opposites. But moments like this proved they were not opposed, not to each other. Water could be warm. Fire did not have to consume.
“Nirine, I’ve been worried.” Sinika ignored the others in the room, focusing on the connection between them. Nirine’s fine cheekbones and slightly long nose appeared sculpted out of fire. Relief flooded her eyes, mellowing the color of the flame forming her irises to a bright golden yellow. “The Temple is in chaos. The High Council has been called together. We are to meet in the Chapel of Hope. I only have a few minutes.” He needed answers quickly.
Niri’s face grew larger as if she leaned toward him. “It was magic then? Not a powerful Elemental?”
Even across the distance and that she spoke through flame, waves sounded in her voice. She was very powerful indeed.
Sinika nodded. “Yes, the Curse has been released to find whatever caused this … manifestation.” Annoyance flared through him. Someday those with magic would be gone and the taint of their power removed from Myrrah. He’d live to see it if he had to do it himself.
Nirine’s image of fire froze except for her eyes that slid from his. She didn’t speak.
Sinika’s breath caught in his throat. “Do you know what it was, Nirine? You are the closest member of the Church. What happened?”
Nirine’s attention slipped back to him. “I cannot explain now, Sinika,” she said, hurriedly. “I will be back to the Temple of Solaire in five days. I will tell you then.”
Movement caught his attention as Rhinnault leaned forward. A wrinkle creased his brows as he frowned. Sinika wouldn’t be able to protect her from the others on the High Council if she returned. Answers would be safer now.
“No, Nirine.” He paused. This time his gaze fell on Timpada who looked torn between leaping to the fire to rip control away from him and encouragement to keep Nirine talking as she perched on the edge of her chair like a raptor about to attack. She was equally an ally and foe, as was everyone on the High Council.
“You cannot come back,” Sinika said, threading regret into his voice. “Don’t you see what this appears to be? The High Council knows magic was used in Mirocyne. The House Steward is an old Fire Priest. Once the Curse woke, they sent the House Steward to find you, but your rooms were deserted. He could only assume you had left. The High Council doesn’t know if you were a part of what happened, but considering the circumstances…”
Shock flowed like rain across her face. The connection between them wavered.
“Niri!” Sinika barked as he poured power into the connection. His command so similar to when he trained her on this technique brought results. The touch of her water reached for him.
“If you tell me what happened, what you know, I will speak to the Council for you. I am sure your punishment will not be so great if you tell me now. Otherwise,” Sinika shook of his head not needing to imagine what the men and women around him would do to her. It was apparent in their blazing eyes and clawed hands. “I cannot bear to think what they will do to you, Niri.” True sadness filled him. She was powerful and clever, destined to replace Nuvahl if she could survive this unharmed. “They would tear you apart, feed you to the Curse instead. Nirine, you must tell me, or they will kill you.”
“No, no, no …” The flames sparked and faded with her denials. Just as he opened his mouth to call to her, liquid heat snapped through the line with such force the flames of the brazier flared and stood still. Her form appeared as if stared into the red waters of a lake. Ci’erra sucked in a breath.
Amused, Sinika waited, wondering how long Nirine could sustain a connection that she controlled now more than he. And it was through fire; not her element, but his. Now the High Council would see what he offered them in his acolyte.
Tears filled Nirine’s eyes as she focused on Sinika. He smiled as her lips parted.
“No,” she said again. “No, I will not tell you what happened.”
Sinika stared at her as his thoughts crumbled. She was merely a Water Elemental. Defiance was not her nature. But here, in front of the High Council, she defied what they needed. For one of the few times in his life, his mind was a blank.
“Do you know where the Curse is?” she asked. “Can you track it? How much time do we have?”
Breath came back to him. “Nirine, you cannot be serious. They will kill you. Do you understand? The Curse is coming now and will find you as assuredly as the magic user. I can do nothing to protect you.”
From her chair, Timpada laughed silently. Anger seethed through Sinika, granting him a margin of control of the connection. Flames flickered again.
The words that he thought would undermine Nirine’s show of strength instead hardened her face.
She tilted her chin upward. “If you don’t want me dead this night by your hand as much as the High Council’s, then tell me where the Curse is, Sinika. I will not come back to Solaire to bring you a child to murder.”
A caught breath that sounded like a fire’s flare echoed through the connection. Nirine was not alone. Kheten leaned forward, catching his eye. She flicked her fingers forward. Sinika took a long breath and leaned on his heels, releasing the anger and surprise that tightened his chest. Written in flame, the Water Elemental waited with blazing eyes and defiant strength.
Tonelessly, he answered, “It took wing, so I would imagine it would be over Thornastal by now.”
Determination touched her eyes as the connection faded at her will. It could not end this way, not in front of the High Council. Sinika threw his power into the fire, flinging his hands into the flame. Surprised, Niri paused. Ideas raced through his mind like wildfire, one consuming the next until a slight possibility remained. He might not be able to control her at the moment, but he could offer her what she needed. She would come back to him.
“You must hurry, Nirine, if you want to outrun the Church,” he whispered, ignoring the eyes watching in the room. “There is a place I’ve heard of that may help you. Go to Karakastad and into the Temple of Dust. There is a library there where the old records were kept. You should be able to find documents on the making of the Curse. Hopefully, something to protect you. Take care of yourself, Nirine.”
“I will. Thank you, Sinika.” She paused. Gratitude edged with fear sculpted her face before the flame snuffed to cold ash.
“So much for your acolyte,” Timpada said with a laugh. She glanced smugly at Ci’erra, but the young Fire Elemental watched the brazier as she tapped a finger against the arm of her chair.
“Karakastad?” Kheten asked.
“You gave me the idea,” Sinika replied. “It was the home of Earth Elementals like you after all. She will go there, and I will be waiting.
“If she survives the Curse coming for whoever she protects,” Pronius pointed out.
Sinika waved a hand at the brazier. Ashen water drops fell from the dark coals. “You’ve seen her power. Do you have any doubt? I think she’ll outsmart that beast.”
“You won’t meet her alone,” Timpada pushed herself upright. “I will join you.”
A slow smile slid across Sinika’s lips. He held Timpada’s gaze until her anger heated the room. “No, not you. Your acolyte may join me.” He offered a hand to Ci’erra.