Exile in the Water Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 3) (53 page)

BOOK: Exile in the Water Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 3)
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Freya
shook her head at Teja.  “Now, stop blaming me and focus.  Do you want me to
stay here and just give him random shots of things, hoping that one might
magically work, or do you want to spend these last moments alone with him? 
I’ll do either.  It’s your choice.”

Teja
didn’t have an answer for that and Teja
always
had an answer.  She
blinked rapidly and melted back into her chair.  It was eerie how uncoordinated
she suddenly seemed.  Like some internal support just gave way and she no
longer had control.  Teja
always
had control.

“Teja?” 
Djinn called sharply and Hope saw the concern on his face.

Teja
dropped her head into her hands and didn’t say anything.  Her breathing was too
fast, almost hyperventilation.  Her body began rocking and she made a low
moaning sound.  It was the worst noise Hope had ever heard.  It made the small
hairs on her arms stand up.

Freya
bit her bottom lip, apparently regretting her blunt words.  “Teja?”

Nothing.

Hope
felt another chill.  Teja was breaking.  She could see the cracks in the other
woman’s façade and it frightened her.  Everyone leaned on Teja for support, but
this plague had been too much.  Teja had tried everything to save Oberon; used
every drop of power she had.  She had nothing left.

Hope
looked over at Djinn for some kind of guidance on how to proceed.

“Freya,
get out.”  He ordered, moving to Teja’s side.  One massive palm came down onto
her shoulder.  “Tej?  Look at me.”  He knelt down in front of her and gave her
a gentle shake, trying to get a response.  “We’ll find another doctor.  A
better
one.  We have time to save him.”

Hope
could tell from his face that not even he believed that.

Teja
kept rocking, her eyes glazed and her pupils like tiny dots even in the
semi-dark room.

Hope
got to her feet, her heart pounding wilding.  Teja was slipping someplace they
couldn’t reach.  If she didn’t come back on her own, none of the rest of them
had the power to save her.

“Djinn?” 
Hope’s voice was too high.  They were already going to lose Oberon.  She
couldn’t lose Teja, too.  “Djinn, what’s happening to her?”

“She’s
in shock.”  Freya sounded amazed, like it hadn’t occurred to her that the
cousin she’d spent centuries arguing with could have any kind of
vulnerability.  “Teja?”  She took a step closer to her, apparently ready to
administer care.  “Djinn, move.  Let me check her over.”

“Get
out
.”  Djinn repeated harshly.  He picked Teja up and she didn’t appear
to notice.  She didn’t even move to grip his neck for support.  Her arms just
fell to her sides at limp, awkward angles as her body shook.  “Don’t touch my
cousin.”  His arms protectively cradled Teja as if Freya might try to snatch
her away.

Not
such a farfetched thought, given the determined glow in Freya’s eyes.  “She’s
my cousin, too!  Let me see her.”

“It’s
your fault she’s like this!  I’m not letting you near her.”  Djinn carried Teja
towards the door.  “Hope, Pele, help me with Tej.  Satour, get that
doctor
off
my lands.”  He marched out of the room, with Pele hot on his heels.

“Where
is he taking her?”  Freya tried to follow, but Satour blocked her path.  Her
mouth firmed.  “This is ridiculous.  I can help her.”  She waved a hand at
Djinn’s retreating back.  “He has to bring her back.”

“Yeah,
‘cause you’ve been such a huge savior so far, right?”  Alder sneered.

Hope
hesitated for a beat, torn between following Djinn’s instructions and staying
to ensure no one accidently stabbed Freya.  Her eyes automatically cut over to
Oberon as if he could play tie breaker.

Freya
continued to argue with Satour and Alder.  Missy already had her sword out. 
Qadesh was moving to flank the doctor, so Freya couldn’t dart around his
brothers.

Hope
was the only one who actually
saw
Oberon let out a raspy final breath
and still.

Her
chest clutched in panic and her lungs constricted just as they did before she
fell into an asthma attack.  Only this was so much worse.


Grandfather!
” 
The scream came from the very depths of her soul.  “Qadesh, he stopped
breathing!  He’s not breathing!”

Freya
spun back around to the bed and swore softly.  Later, Hope would always think
that it had been witnessing Teja’s emotional meltdown that drove the doctor
towards the mattress.  Freya didn’t want to give up on Oberon, because she knew
what he meant to her cousin.  She knew it was hopeless and still she tried.

“Move!” 
Freya bellowed at Alder and climbed up onto the bed.  Her fist came down on
Oberon’s chest with a sharp blow, trying to restart his heart.

The
Fire Phases stood there as she worked, shock on their faces.  As if, even after
seeing Oberon fade right before their eyes, they couldn’t process the fact that
he might actually
die
.  None of them had experienced real defeat
before.  They
won
the battles they fought.  Always.  They had no idea
how to handle a loss of this magnitude.  Hope had never seen them without a
plan to press forward and sweep the field.  Now, they looked lost.

That
scared Hope more than anything.

They
were her rock.  They
had
to know what to do.

Hope’s
gaze whipped around helplessly.  Someone had to
fix
this.

But,
nobody could.  Time ticked by, so slowly and yet way too fast.

Satour
backed up so he was against the wall and then slid down it in a slow-mo
collapse.  Qadesh’s eyes closed in sorrow.  For the first time since Hope had
known her, Missy started to cry.  So did Alder.

So
did everyone else.

Regardless
of whether or not the Fire Phases were
supposed
to weep, every single
one of them broke down as Oberon left them.  Only Hope stared at her
grandfather dry eyed, too frozen for tears.

Oberon
was dead.

No,
no, no, no, no.

Hope
moved trace like towards the bed as Freya continued giving him mouth-to-mouth.

If
the doctor was afraid of catching the Fall herself, she gave no sign of it as
she pushed air into his lungs.  “You stupid, stubborn bastard.  Breathe!  Prove
me wrong and live.  You’re the only one crazy enough to beat this disease, just
to spite me.”

Hope
hand came over and grabbed Oberon’s palm, squeezing tight.  “Grandfather?”  She
whispered.  “Don’t go.  Not without saying good-bye.  Please come back.”

No
one was exactly sure what happened next.  Hope fingers bit into his flesh, her
nonexistent energy swelling within her, willing him to look at her…

…And
he did.

Freya
moved to resume chest compressions and Oberon’s eyes just flew open.

“Hang
on.”  He said quite clearly.  “Ain’t ready, yet.”

The
doctor gave a yelp of alarm and tumbled backwards off the bed.

“Holy
shit!”  Alder caught her, his attention on his grandfather.  “Oberon?”

“What
the hell just happened?”  Freya asked the world at large.  She pushed back a handful
of pale hair that had escaped its orderly bun and gaped at Oberon like he’d
risen from the dead.  Which he kinda had.  “That’s impossible.  He can’t be
awake.  No other patient woke up after they went into the coma.”  She started
forward to take Oberon’s vitals, but Qadesh caught her wrist, stopping her.

“Let
him be.”  His voice was reverent.  “He didn’t come back to stay.  He came back
for Hope.”

No
one had expected Oberon to wake-up, even for this brief moment.  But then Fire
Phases never did what you expected.

Brown
eyes fixed on Hope, just like they had when he’d first seen her, a hundred and
twelve years before.  Now, they were filled with endless love and such wisdom
that Hope realized Oberon had seen something far beyond what the rest of them
knew.

“Good-bye,
my star.”  He murmured with a weaker version of his usual slanting grin.

He’d
always called her that.  Hope let out a shaky breath and tried to smile back at
him.  “Good-bye, grandfather.”  But she couldn’t just let him go with that. 
She
couldn’t
.  The strength left her knees and she sank to the floor
beside the bed.  “Please, wait for me when you get to heaven.  Please remember
me and I’ll find you as soon as I get there.  It’ll be very soon.”  So far she
seemed immune to the Fall, but that would change.  With her luck, it was a
given.  “We’ll be together again and be taking over the whole boring, celestial
place in no time.  You’ll love that.”  A tear trailed down her cheek, imaging
the glorious time they’d have, and she wiped it away.  “We can have so much
fun.  I promise.”

“I
don’t think you’re coming with me this trip.”  He whispered.

“But
I
want
to.  Please.  Don’t leave me here alone.”

Hope
was terrified at being abandoned and Oberon knew it.  His eyes were gentle. 
“You’re not alone.”  He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.  “I’m
leaving you with our family.  With your Match.  I saw him.  Just now.  I picked
him out for you myself.”

He
was delirious.  “Thank you, Grandfather, but I don’t actually have a Match.” 
She corrected softly.

This
time his grin was smug.  “Not yet.  But he’s there.  You can save him.  You can
do anything.  You’re a Fire Phase.  Remember that.”

No
one had ever
needed
Hope, but that mistake seemed so trivial compared to
the rest of his words.  “I’m a Fire Phase.”  She agreed, her heart swelling at
his praise.  “I will
never
forget that.  I promise.”

“Good
girl.”  His eyes drifted shut.  “You’ll like him, baby.  You always did vote
for the monsters at the movies.  Always did think they just needed love.  Well,
this one’s your monster.  He’s waiting for you to set him free.”

“My
monster?”  She repeated blankly.

“He
has a good soul, just like you.”  Oberon snorted at some joke only he
understood.  “He just… needs some help finding it…”  He trailed off with a contented
sigh, only to open his eyes again and look at her intently.  “You take care of
Teja and the others.”  Urgency entered his voice.  “You take care of them for
me.”

He’d
gotten that mixed up.  The Fire Phases took care of
her
.  “I will.”  She
said anyway, just to appease him.  If she had any control over her powers at
all, she’d use them to protect her family.

He
was fading now.  “Promise me something else, my star.”

“Of
course.  Anything.”  She’d do anything in the world for this man.

“Remember
rule one.”

Her
eyebrows compressed.  “What…?  Grandfather? 
Grandfather!

But
Oberon was already gone, off on some new adventure.

…And
Hope was left behind.

Chapter One

 

Two
Years Later

I had cast
off all feeling, subdued all anguish to riot in the excess of my despair.

Evil
thenceforth became my good.  Urged thus far, I had no choice but to adapt

my nature
to an element I had willingly chosen.

 

Mary Shelley- “Frankenstein”

 

“They
won’t do.”  Kingu glared over at Zakkery, of the Smoke House.  “None of them
are acceptable.”  He turned and stalked away from the latest row of stunning
woman that the Phase had assembled for him, shaking his head in disgust at how
tedious this was becoming.

Gods
but he grew sick of Zakkery’s total incompetence.  He should have known that
this was beyond the capabilities of an Elemental.  The entire species had the
collective brainpower of a chicken.  Was it really so difficult to find the
one
small thing he’d asked for?  So perplexing a challenge, even for Zakkery’s
pathetic mind?

All
he wanted was a simple, solitary woman.  Just one.  He hadn’t even specified a
species
,
for fuck’s sake.  And the Smoke Phase
still
couldn’t manage to get it
right.  Idiot.  Once he regained his full powers, Kingu should eradicate this
entire realm and put all the Elementals out of their misery, once and for all.

“Come
on!
”  Zakkery marched after him, his face set in lines of frustration. 
“What the hell’s wrong with this batch, huh?”  He waved a hand at the cadre of
supermodels.  “According to you, that
last
six were all unworthy because
they were –Let’s see,“ he began checking off Kingu’s previous complaints,
“boring, stupid, stupid
and
boring, too shrill, too blonde --Gaia knows
you hate blondes-- and what else?”  He snapped his fingers.  “Oh wait, I remember:
Too thin.”  He ran hand through his dark hair.  “Well, this group is
none
of those things.  I made sure of it.  So why can’t you just pick one of these
girls and we get this over with?”

Kingu
scowled over at the women and then down at Zakkery.  “They’re too pretty.”  He
declared flatly.


What? 
How can they be too pretty?!  How is that even a criteria, now?”

“Because
I just made it one, Elemental.”  Kingu loomed over him, not the least bit
put-out by Zakkery’s infuriated glare.  After so many centuries of being a
slave to one of the cruelest, most terrifying beings in creation, some
insignificant Phase getting pissy with him didn’t even register.  “You and I
have a deal.  I get a woman of my choosing and you get Kay’s necklace.  Are you
thinking to change that?”

Now
that his mother was in the coma, only Kingu could remove the pendant from her
throat and he didn’t plan on doing that without some quid pro quo.  The
necklace was just a thin, straight hunk of metal decorated with a barcode of
black enamel lines.  To most people, it was simply a piece of not-so-attractive
jewelry.  And it
was
ugly.  But it was also imbued with some serious
cosmic powers.  In the right hands, the necklace could inflict damage.

And
Kingu had seen enough apocalypses to know what “damage” really meant.

He
had no idea what Zakkery wanted with the pendant specifically, but it didn’t
seem worth asking him about the details.  The jackass would probably spend
several hours explaining them all and none of it would be true anyway.

Honestly,
Kingu couldn’t have cared less about the Phases and their petty plots and
schemes.  Zakkery was undoubtedly working with someone and they were
undoubtedly plotting to attack their enemies with the necklace, but what
possible difference did it make which Phases killed the others?  They were all
equally useless.  Kingu might as well take sides in a war between grasshoppers.

Elementals
were beneath his notice.

“I
know what the deal is and I’m not trying to change anything, but you’re being…”

Kingu
cut off Zakkery’s complaint.  “Good.  Because, until I get my woman, you get
nothing
from me.  I’m immortal.  I have time for
generations
of females to be
born and for me to look them over, if that’s the way you want to play it.  But,
I get the feeling you’re in a bit more of a hurry.”

“So
what the hell do you want me to do, then?”  Zakkery demanded.  “Bring you every
woman in the universe who
isn’t
pretty?”

Perpetually
dressed in torn jeans and hightops decorated with one of the human flags, Zakkery’s
incessant casualness annoyed Kingu.  So did the fact that the Phase looked like
a matinee idol.  It wasn’t that Kingu was
envious
of some pathetic
Elemental, of course.  But, it irritated him that someone so obnoxious would be
gifted with such uncanny good looks.  Especially, since Zakkery didn’t even
seem to appreciate what a genetic blessing he’d received.  Women loved this
asshole.  It was dumbfounding.

The
Smoke Phase basically seemed like he rolled out of bed, randomly tossed on
whatever semi-clean clothing he scrounged up off the floor, scraped his hands
through his too long hair and began a hard day of chain smoking.  It aggravated
Kingu to be around someone so… chaotic.

On
Zakkery’s right hand, he wore a bicycle chain for a bracelet and sported a
Banishment mark.  It was seared into the skin on the back of his palm.  It took
a lot for a Phase to scar, so Zakkery’s House had really made sure that the
branding went deep enough to last.

Hopefully
the process had hurt.

A
lot.

“I
want you to listen to what I’m telling you.” Kingu snarled.  This whole
misadventure had started two weeks before and so far they’d gotten nowhere. 
Immortal or not, he was losing his patience.  “I want
one
woman.  Just
one.  Who isn’t brainless, grating, high-pitched, skeletal, or blonde.  Or
breakable.”  He tacked on the last one because he worried about accidently
hurting a woman.  He didn’t want her bones snapping because of his size.  And
on a related note… “I would also prefer one doesn’t back away when she sees
me.”


That
condition’s gonna be tough.”  Zakkery muttered.

No
doubt he was right.  In fact, Kingu had yet to meet a woman who didn’t move
away when she first spotted him.  Not that it mattered.  “I don’t give a shit
what you have to do.”  Kingu said truthfully.  “All I want is my woman.”

“Well,
pick one and she’ll be yours.  Christ!  Is there really that big a difference
for someone like you?  Pick the one you most want to fuck and let’s move the
hell on.”

Kingu
rolled his eyes.  It was impossible to explain to his motivations to a lesser
creature.  Zakkery wasn’t capable of understanding what it meant to desire a
woman for more than just breeding.  The Phases were a base species, ruled by
their biological impulses.  Kingu wasn’t even sure himself why it mattered so
much that he find this one specific girl, just that his powers would let him
know when he finally located her.

“Perhaps,
interchangeable women are suitable for
you
.  I have higher standards. 
None of these cookie-cutter Phases you keep offering me are even close to my
specifications.  I want one plain, uncomplicated, quiet female.  Stretch the
limits of your capabilities and see if you can complete this
herculean
task.”

Zakkery’s
eyes narrowed at the sarcasm.  “Why don’t we come at this from a different
angle?”  He suggested tightly.  “Tell me something specific.  Not what you
don’t
want this girl to be or this vague crap about how you want someone ‘quiet’ and
‘efficient.’  I want something real.”

“Efficiency
is
real.”  Kingu insisted.  “That’s a vital quality.”  He didn’t want
someone chaotic.  He’d had far too much chaos in his life.

Zakkery
disregarded that.  “Give me something concrete to go on.  A tangible thing to
look for.  Like double D’s, or her SAT scores, or how about just
one
word
to describe this impossible girl?  What do you want her to give you?”

“Hope.”

The
word was out before Kingu could censor it and he immediately wished he could
call it back.  Not just because Zakkery’s usual sardonic expression sagged in
utter shock at the uncharacteristically whimsical answer, but because Kingu
knew it was such an impossible request.

He
was used to not having hope.

When
you didn’t have a soul, you eventually reached a point where you just accepted
what you were and you stopped thinking you could ever be something more.  You
had
to do that, or you went insane.  A kind of numbness set in.  A deep knowledge
that you were completely and totally on your own.

That
was the hardest part to come to grips with.  Realizing that even your prayers
went unheard.  It had taken Kingu millennia to accept that whatever bigger,
stronger gods might be out there, they had no interest in a creature they hadn’t
had a hand in making.  He was outside the natural scope.  Beyond their
jurisdiction.

Created
,
not
born
.

When
you didn’t have a soul, it also seemed pointless to try and to squeeze your
behavior into some bedtime story box of morality.  Good and bad meant nothing. 
How could they?  Regardless of the outcome, it wasn’t like there was anything
to look forward to on the back-end.  You could save the world or end it, and
the outcome would be the same when you finally died.  No holy white light
pulling you upward.  No punishing fire dragging you down.

Nothing
but the same kind of funeral a broken chair might finally have, after its owner
chopped it to bits and tossed it out for the trash.  No one mourned the chair. 
It wasn’t rewarded or punished for the kind of life it had led.  It didn’t go to
Chair Heaven or Chair Hell.

It
just… ceased to exist.

With
that kind of happy destiny looming on the horizon, it was little wonder that
Kingu always concentrated on the present far more than the future.  He’d
endured for countless centuries focusing no further than the next afternoon. 
He lived his life in day long blocks, not really caring what happened.

Perhaps
things would have been different if he’d been allowed to fulfill his actual
potential in the universe.  Perhaps he would have tried harder to make a
difference in the world.  Perhaps he could have found some purpose beyond
routine survival.

After
all, Kingu was a god.

He
held more energy than any ludicrous Phase could imagine.  He wasn’t as powerful
as his mother, of course, but few people were.  Kay was the primordial Khaos. 
She controlled all the formless, destructive nothingness in existence, which
–sadly-- was so much scarier than it sounded.  She’d killed so many weaker,
more breakable beings that she’d eventually manufactured Kingu to be her
permanent captive audience.

Literally
captive.

Kingu
had been a slave to his mother from the day he’d been created.  He was the only
one strong enough to withstand her endless torture.  She’d made sure of that. 
Made sure he was immortal and healed quickly from the wounds she loved to
inflict.  And she made sure that Kingu couldn’t access any of his own powers
and that he did every single thing she asked.  Made sure she controlled him,
inside and out.

Then
Kay’s sister, Tessie, had sent Kay into a coma, and Kingu found that he was
suddenly free.  Free to do and have what he’d always wanted.  Free to find the
one tiny spark of hope that always burned in the deepest recess of his being. 
A tiny flame that represented
her
.

A
woman of his own.

She
was the only dream he’d been able to retain in captivity, buried deep in the
rebellious corners of his mind that Kay couldn’t touch.  His future remained a
bleak blur of meaningless days, but the idea of this woman calmed him.  The
horrific memories, and the constant fear that Kay might one day awaken,
lessened when he concentrated on the woman.

He
had
to find her and the pitiful, brain-dead Phases were going to help
him.

Even
if he had to kill them, one by one, to gain their cooperation.

“You
want a woman who will bring you
hope?
”  Zakkery’s tone made it sound
like syphilis.  His dark brows climbed up his forehead so far that they reached
his hairline.  “Holy
shit
.  You’re not looking for a quick lay… You’re
looking for your Match!”

Kingu’s
eyes narrowed like death.  “
Elementals
have Matches.  I’m above that
kind of sentimental bullshit, because I’m not one of you amoebas.  I am a god.”

Zakkery
gave his head a mystified shake, gray eyes alight with dawning comprehension. 
“I know you keep saying that you want this one special girl.  I just figured
this was about you not knowing what the hell you were doing and trying to
stall.  I mean,
obviously
you wouldn’t be a ladies’ man.”  He waved an
all-encompassing hand at Kingu’s face and body.  “But, this isn’t about you
getting your rocks off, at all.”  He grinned.  “This
really is
about you
wanting a fucking bride!”

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