Successor Page 5

  Until now.

  One leaf draws my eye from the rest, glinting near the bottom like sunlight through a crystal. On the simplest whim to join it, I’m propelled toward it in a smooth glide until I’m consumed by its light.

  ****

  The Laraek village. I’m there, yet not. A ghost among memories.

  Images flash in an array of colors, then turn gray and fade away to smoke.

  In blue. A child born before the hidden throne tree, presented with pride and protected by all. She grows, strong and brave, spending her days in the lake and streams of the territory.

  She meditates, preparing while her mother watches and instructs. The words are lost to me, like a silent movie, but their importance is felt.

  The image shifts to red. Time moves back, to the younger days of the mother. A teenager, no older than I am, making preparations of her own. She’s captivated by the fire in the center of the village—how the flames lick the air before retreating to feast on the logs and leaves at their center. Before long, she’ll be able to hold that fire in her palm and not feel its heat.

  Green. Another young woman, this one the mother of the mother. Her days are spent within the trees. She feels the roots settling, snug within the ground. Water and life move up the bark, feeding the branches, aerial roots, and leaves of the banyans. A voice in her mind assures her they’re happy, and she thanks it.

  The voice is a curious thing. Though within her, it doesn’t belong to her. Still, her mind is its home.

  Hers isn’t the first nor the last. When the time comes, it finds its way to the mother in red, settling within her and bringing comfort, completeness. It allows her to hold the fire, mold it to her will. It’s a heady feeling, to have control over such an element.

  The voice helps her to see the tree of constellations—to move from one leaf to another at will. A thread tethers the voice to the tree. Thin and gold and thrumming with life, it leads from the base of the tree, a glowing center shielded by its roots. Hundreds of threads stem from this center to the leaves above, many of them leading to the same ones. They’re not voices she’ll ever know, but they’re just as important.

  I can’t stop myself from searching for home, the leaf containing the world I’ve always known. How am I to tell it apart from the rest? There must be a way.

  The image fades away to smoke, revealing the mother of green once again. She holds hands with her daughter of red, both determined to keep tears from their eyes.

  Quiet steals over them.

  A shared flash of pain, and the green bleeds away to gray.

  The voice finds its new home, and the red of the successor burns bright.

  ****

  My return to the here and now pulls a loud gasp from me, my lungs on fire. The elders look relieved when my eyes fly open. Ren looks guarded as usual.

  “I saw her.” The words come out a strained pant. “The girl in blue—she was my mother. She came from this place.”

  Though much younger than in the photograph I’ve carried for years, my mom’s face had been unmistakable. Her life, her childhood…all I saw were flashes, and yet they told me more about her than anything my father ever had.

  “She did,” Maemon replies. “Sianne was an important member of the clan.”

  “What was that?” The tendrils release themselves from my arms and head, their slow retreat raising goose bumps all over.

  “The elemental archives. They can be accessed by descendants of that bloodline, alone. As Sianne disappeared before she could contribute her memories to it, only her predecessors’ are stored.”

  When the last tendril releases me, I can’t get out of the chair fast enough. Water from the pool splashes up my pants as I put some distance between myself and the tree. A chill moves through me, paying no mind to the tropical heat.

  “And these elementals—my mother and her mother and her mother.” I shake out my arms to release the chill in them but to no avail. “They could all control parts of nature?”

  “And traverse dimensions,” Maemon adds. “When Sianne disappeared long ago, we believed she had been captured by another clan for use as leverage.”

  “No one came forward to claim responsibility,” the male elder interjects.

  “Some suspected she may have opened a rift to another plane, but she would have been susceptible to the traveler’s sickness. It is quite debilitating, as you have witnessed.”

  If the memories in the archives hadn’t been thrust into my brain, I would tell everyone here they’re insane and bolt.

  But everything I saw—everything I felt…the burning flutter in my chest tells me every piece of it is true.

  Including the part where I’m no longer in my home dimension.

  Standing still isn’t an option. All eyes are on me as I pace, my hands and arms restless as I absorb what I’ve just learned.

  “Then how was she able to survive my plane for so long?”

  Maemon lifts her arm toward the path. “Come. Let us walk.”

  Don’t have to tell me twice. Anything to get away from that tree. I’m down the path and back in the garden before anyone else.

  It’s a living masterpiece. So much beauty in color and form. The scents create a combination unlike anything I’ve ever come across, and I’m sure never will again. Back home, I could sit for hours in a place like this, doing nothing but taking in every sight, sound, and scent around me. A sanctuary where the troubles of the world couldn’t touch me.

  This isn’t home. There’s an alienness to it now. The thread of peace its beauty brought me has turned cold, swirling through my insides in unpredictable loops and curls. The sunlight retreats behind the clouds, the surge of shadows suiting my crash course introduction to this world.

  A world that, whether I like it or not, is a part of me.

  Ren emerges from the path first, his unreadable gaze on me as the elders follow him into the garden. The others stop at his side while Maemon continues on, tipping her head as she passes me in invitation to join her.

  “Your plane was not the first Sianne had traveled to as an elemental.” Maemon keeps our pace slow and steady, weaving us out of the garden with her hands clasped behind her back. “She had experience in combating the sickness. If able to obtain the necessary items for treatment, it is feasible she could have coped with it for as long as necessary.”

  She steps through the doorway leading from the garden to the center. People are everywhere. Most are in the courtyard while others are across the center in some kind of training yard. Sparring, from the looks of it.

  “There was a voice,” I say, ignoring the clanspeople watching us. “It was a part of them but came from somewhere else.”

  “The Link,” Maemon replies. We’re passing the courtyard when a small boy runs up and hands each of us what look to be orange mangoes. Maemon thanks him, and he runs off before I can do the same. “It is a type of living energy that extends from the Origin, its source of power.”

  “I think I saw it.” The bright center at the base of the tree of constellations. It was the purest light I’ve ever seen.

  Maemon hands her mango to a woman leaving the courtyard carrying a basket. She accepts it with a smile and continues on her way. “There is a process known as the assimilation. The Link merges with the mind of the bonder—a female carrying the elemental trait in her blood. Once joined, the bonder becomes a fully functioning elemental.”

  “Meaning she can control nature and dimension-hop?”

  “Aspects of a particular element, yes. They are capable of bending time as well, though it is rare for them to do so.”

  My feet stop moving, my mouth going dry. “Bend time.”

  “To a limited extent.” She stoops and picks up the mango I dropped.

  Time travel? Why not…? With a blink, I take the piece of fruit she holds out to me. The tendons and joints of my arm move like they’re covered in rust. “So you think I’m one of these bonders?”

  Maemon clasps her hands be
hind her back. “As Sianne’s daughter and successor, the trait is in your blood.” She starts walking again, taking in the world around her. “It is clear you have undergone your assimilation—you would not be here if you had not. Your Link, however, seemed to have deflected for some reason.”

  There’s a strong vibration against my hip at the mention of the word “link.” Upon opening my bag, I’m not surprised to find it’s coming from the Sahasrara Orb. It’s also glowing again. It quiets when I pull it from the bag, like it’s happy to have my attention.

  Ha! Happy…

  At least now I know what that weird episode was back in the barn. I hadn’t had time to think about it after it happened, what with the cops chasing us and ending up here, in a different dimension. Either my coping skills are super amazing, or I’m in some kind of shock. My bet is on the latter.

  We’re rounding the center, passing the main path leading into the village. My trip down it last night is fresh in my mind, though at the time I never would’ve imagined having the conversation I am now. As we approach the training yard with the sparring, I ask, “I take it that’s why no one else can see its messages?”

  “Correct.” Maemon studies the sparring partners as we walk. Half a dozen pairs are engaged in hand-to-hand combat, while another dozen are training with staffs in the middle section. At the farthest end are several archers, their targets arranged like an obstacle course they’re running and tumbling through.

  I cast a furtive glance at Ren. His appraisal of the others is casual, looking satisfied from what I can tell of his limited expressions. His gaze drifts to mine, as if he expects to find me watching him. Heat rises up my neck.

  “Only someone of the elemental bloodline can receive the Link’s messages,” Maemon adds, continuing around the center, taking us past the animal pens. They don’t smell anywhere near as bad as the farms I’ve come across back home. Their coats are clean and shine in the sunlight.

  One of the animals, looking like a cross between a deer and a goat, comes over to greet us as we approach. The elders reach out and scratch the deer-goat’s head and neck. Ren stays back.

  When we start walking again, coming full circle back to the council garden and the peculiar tree within, I ask, “Any idea why the Link deflected into the ball?”

  “It could be for a number of reasons. Considering you were unprepared to accept it, the Link was most likely directed toward the source of your focus.” Maemon looks over. “I assume you were interacting with the ball when the assimilation happened?”

  We reach the entrance to the council garden. No one moves to go in. I’m in no rush to get near that tree again.

  “Yeah.” I turn the ball over. The die remains submerged, the Link having nothing to say. Who would’ve guessed asking a child’s toy a simple question would bring about this craziness?

  Then again, is it crazy if it’s true?

  “So does this mean the Link is stuck in the ball from now on?”

  “No,” Maemon replies with a shake of her head. “It will redirect itself to you, as it has done in similar cases in the past.”

  Leila’s pale face pops into my mind. The feel of her cold, clammy skin. I need to get her home, but I’m betting the Link won’t open a rift to return until it’s found its way into my head. The mere thought of it makes my stomach tighten.

  And then there’s my dad and Lei’s parents, plus her boyfriend, Jason. They’ve got to be worried sick by now. We have to get back, and soon.

  “Any thoughts on when that might be?”

  “This situation is unprecedented, so it is difficult to say.” Maemon’s eyes narrow in thought. “Outside of the Origin, the Link’s natural place is within its bonder. When not in either, nature becomes unbalanced. The Origin will correct the imbalance, but it may take some time.”

  I pace a few steps away. Exhaustion or exasperation, maybe both, makes me sigh as the pressure of a headache builds behind my eyes. This isn’t the different kind of life I’d had in mind for after high school. A kegger at the barn is almost preferable to this.

  “What about Leila? If this place is making her sick, I can’t keep her here.”

  Maemon gestures for me to enter the council garden. She lowers her hand when I cross my arms and plant myself where I stand.

  “Kirahl is preparing a tonic to combat the effects of the sickness.”

  “How do you know it’ll work on Lei?”

  Maemon gives me a patient look. “Tonics are devised to alleviate certain ailments, regardless of whom they affect. At the very least, her symptoms should ease.”

  I’m edgy as ever, and Maemon’s words do nothing to reassure me. Pressing on my temples with the heels of my hands doesn’t help the pressure building behind them.

  “So we’re banking on the Link getting redirected to me, right?” When she nods, I ask, “And what if it doesn’t happen? I mean, I’m only half Laraek. It’s conceivable it won’t, and if it does, there’s still a chance it won’t work.” I lift my hand to her. “You said it yourself—this is unprecedented. All things considered, my own existence is almost impossible.”

  Maemon’s gaze lowers in consideration. She takes a few measured steps toward me but keeps a distance. “You are Sianne’s descendent. The elemental trait is in your blood. That is all that matters.” She looks up, the certainty in her eyes meeting the skepticism in mine. “I assure you, the redirection will happen.”

  A strange mix of hope and dread fills me, a simmering roil in my stomach. “But how can you know?”

  Her eyes narrow. “The connection between a bonder and her Link is powerful. As an elemental, they are two halves of a whole. You feel the need to keep the ball near you at all times, yes?”

  A pull in my chest makes me look at the ball, still in my hand. I nod.

  “The relationship is interdependent; they rely on one another. As an elemental, they often function as a single consciousness. The Link has not fully merged with you, but a connection has been established, and because of it, remaining separate puts you both at great risk.”

  My scalp prickles, the simmering in my stomach turning to stone. “What kind of risk?”

  The male elder speaks. “Once a connection is made, one cannot function without the other. If one aspect of the elemental is lost, then so is the other.”

  My grip tightens on the ball, the rock in my stomach sinking deeper. I’m sure my face has turned white, all of the blood draining away. “So if something happens to the ball with the Link still inside”—I talk slowly, making sure I understand—“it’ll kill me?”

  The elders’ faces are grave, resigned. “Yes.”

  Chapter Six

  Kirahl is in the hollow when I return, standing at the table that’s now covered with plants and dishes. She looks up as I enter and go to Leila.

  “How is she?”

  “Stable. The tonic will be ready soon.”

  Leila still looks awful, but at least her breathing has eased. I brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “Will it really work on her?”

  “To an extent, but it will be temporary at best. She will soon establish a tolerance.”

  My stomach sinks. “I need to get her home.” I move next to Kirahl, who’s busy grinding herbs with a pestle and mortar. “This redirection thing better happen soon.”

  “You have learned of your heritage.” She adds a few more sprigs to the bowl. The scent reminds me of bay leaves and parsley.

  “More like I got smacked in the face with it.”

  She gives me a curious look, her brows lifting.

  “I think I understand the basics. The Origin needs to realize the Link isn’t where it’s supposed to be. You’d think it would’ve picked up on that by now.”

  “It will. You need to be patient.”

  “And hope the Link doesn’t get destroyed before then.” If what I’ve been told is true, patience won’t matter. “I won’t do Leila any good if I die before I can get her out of here.”

  Kirahl
’s expression turns stern. “Do not think such thoughts. Negative energy is contagious, and it will hinder your friend’s receptivity to the treatment when you are near.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.” With a groan, I scrub my hands over my face. “I had a bit of a bomb dropped on me this morning. I’m still processing everything.”

  She combines the ground herbs with an amber liquid in one of the bowls. “You should go to the courtyard and eat something. You can be taken to bathe after.”

  The offer brings out a grateful smile. “I’m not really hungry, but I wouldn’t turn down a bath.” A thought occurs to me, and I glance down at myself. “Do you know where I could borrow something to wear so I can wash my clothes?”

  “You will want to see Ryka. She can provide something more comfortable than those.” She gestures to my jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, the humidity making them cling.

  Thanking her, I step out of the hollow to head to Ryka’s—and collide with Ren.

  His hand comes up to steady me, but I push away, cursing under my breath. The man is turning into my damn shadow. “You need to wear a bell.”

  His eyes narrow the tiniest bit, his jaw tight. “You are not to be without an escort until the redirection occurs.” He holds my shoes out to me, his fingers hooked in the heels. “You left these behind.”

  I snag my shoes away and plop down on my butt to put them on. “Don’t worry, I didn’t wreak any havoc on the way back.” I return his irritated look.

  “It is for your own protection. You should not wander unguarded. Do not do so again.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck bristle. After everything I learned this morning, my abrupt departure should have been expected. The last thing I need is to be reprimanded like a child, let alone by a half-naked man who, by my guess, has no more than five or six years on me.

  Instead of telling him where to go, I get to my feet and plaster on a fake smile. “I’m sorry if my reaction to learning my life depends on a damn toy was an inconvenience to you. I’ll try to be more considerate the next time I have an anxiety attack.”

  He blinks, his brows pulling together. “Your apology is accepted.”