The Elementalists

Chapter 10

Rai

Something isn't right. 

I can feel it. It's just . . . it just feels like everything is about to change. I don't know how. I can't explain it. But something isn't right. 

I can't bring myself to dance. No matter how hard Dove and Quail try to pull me into their arms, to drag me down to the beat of the music, to just focus on the party (even though it's just like every other party). All I can do is smile. And try. 

Smile and try. That's all I ever seem to do.   

If only I could climb on Henry's back and fly the night's sky home. If only I could be sure of where home even is. 

The boy in the mohair cloak . . . he's like me. He's one of me. I shiver even though it's warm, swathed in a haze of sweat, lust, and hormones. I've never met anyone like me before.

Can he do what I can do?

But he's with her, isn't he. Cadence. The sudden heat in my cheeks, the sweat, the twisting of nausea in my stomach, everything intensifies—with a well-practised smile, I ease myself free of Quail's arms and head up the rickety steps to the balcony. To breathe the midnight air.

The silence. The stillness. It's a soothing embrace.

Henry bobs up over the railing; I guess he's been waiting for me. His lights flash in greeting, and I perch beside him, staring up at the moon.

'Do you think it's true?'

Henry quivers at my touch. As I stroke him, he inches as close to me as he possibly can.

'That boy from before . . . he thinks I'm a bad person, doesn't he. But Titus warned me about all of them. Futurists and Resisters. He said my kind are criminals. He wouldn't lie to me. Would he?

'Am I a bad person?'

Henry doesn't answer. He just cocks his body to the side and emits a comforting string of beeps.

'I know, I know . . . of course, I don't trust Cadence. I'm not stupid.' I place my chin in my hands. 'I just . . . don't understand.'

'Raiii? Where are you?'

Back downstairs, Dove is calling my name; hastily wiping my eyes, I rest my forehead on Henry, letting his cool, sleek body send a rush of calm through my body.

'Coming, Dove. One second.'

Then I leave him on the balcony, alone in the wind. Although my body is soon down in the mess of limbs and smoke, my mind is upstairs with him in the stars.

*

We sneak in late through our bedroom windows, praying we won't get caught. But of course, we do. Titus is furious. We cower from his rage. By morning, it seems to have evolved into an even testier beast; word spreads between the wards, flourishing from floor to floor: avoid Titus at all costs. We all know that it's impossible, though; you can't exactly not come when Lord Titus calls.

It's not long before he slaps Buffalo for simply speaking out of turn, and kicks poor old Auden down the stairs for adding milk to his tea.

He insists on walking me to the station for my next client—I'm due to be travelling into the depths of the Slavskani Wastelands. His mood is only getting worse.

'I doubt you got any practise in last night, did you. The state of you.' He spits on the ground, leaving a shiny puddle by my feet—people are starting to stare. Henry zooms above me, his lights flashing in annoyance; my cheeks glow with embarrassment. It's all my fault. I let Titus down.