Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10) Page 6

  “Let’s move out. Mother, if you’re going to keep this clan from getting food and feeding its young, you can just stay here,” said Spark. His mother made a strangled sort of cawing noise, but in the end she came along, trailing along behind the rest of the group.

  Off we went to the Black Market. The land was barren and dry. Part of the problem was that the darkness power had swept over it, killing trees, grass, and everything in between. Crops died and paranormals went hungry. All the fights leading up to the last great battle had demolished lands far and wide, and for the most part they still hadn’t recovered. It rarely rained, and it was difficult to move food around the country, even with brooms and other methods of flying. Many of the clans, like the one that had taken me hostage, didn’t trust the government. They didn’t trust anything but the Black Market, which was about the last place I myself would ever look for honesty.

  The conversation on the way to the Black Market was mostly about gossip and crops, but there were a few interesting tidbits.

  First, the paranormal council was forming to start a formal search for a better president than the current one. They had tried to govern through various means since the Nocturn war, and nothing had worked. Various factions were rising up, hoping to be elected, but the outcome remained uncertain.

  As always, news of darkness was rife. Many of the ills being visited upon the paranormals were being blamed on Nocturns who were still on the loose (there were very few of these, most had been killed) or on demons running amok.

  As we walked, I kept thinking I could see flits of light, as if a fleet-footed dog with a silver coat was dashing through the woods. I’d look, and then it would be gone. I blinked and shook my head, trying to clear my vision and my thoughts, afraid that I was now definitely starting to see things.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I heard Sparell ask. “He keeps shaking his head like he’s confused.”

  “I don’t know. Why do you think I can explain what’s wrong with paranormals like that?” Spark demanded. The leader of the ragtag clan had chosen a handful of other members to travel with us, leaving most of the group behind. The children had run along with us until Spew had angrily sent them home. They had wanted to come, to see the Black Market, and they hadn’t liked hearing that they couldn’t.

  “Are we walking all the way there?” I asked.

  Spark sniffed. He seemed to be in a much better mood now that we had left the cave behind.

  “We have a boat,” said Sparell proudly.

  “Who’d you have to steal that from?” I asked.

  Sparell rolled her eyes. “They gave it to us.”

  “Who gave it to you?” I asked. If they were going to keep answering my questions, I was going to keep asking them.

  “The Appraiser,” she said. “They came down the river and gave every clan a boat, just in case we ever wanted to bring any paranormals in.”

  Something inside me twisted, but I tried to remain calm. It didn’t really matter anyhow; Sparell didn’t notice my reaction, she just kept talking.

  “They said that since there were so many valuable paranormals on the loose and they wanted to help all the clans, they thought this was the best way to do it. It’s how we knew we’d make a lot of money with you in the first place. They said that anyone coming through here must be valuable.”

  “When did they say this?” I asked weakly. Spew looked at me, her eyes filled with concern. I wanted to tell her it would be alright, but at this point I wasn’t so sure. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought I could run? No specific price had been set on me because I was priceless. Something a vampire I knew had said rang in my head: “Everything has a price. It might not be one that can be paid, but everything has a price.” My mind went to my family and I wondered if I’d ever see them again. I had always thought I would, but the Appraiser would surely know who I was, and once he did . . .

  “Yeah, so we have a boat, but it’s small, so not many of us can go,” said Sparell.

  “They’ll kill you if you bring me,” I said. “They. Will. KILL you.”

  “They won’t,” said Spark. “If they do, then no more clans will come with anyone else. Besides, they have plenty of food, and we can defend ourselves.”

  I felt sick. Once they had me they wouldn’t care about catching any of the other paranormals on the list. Well, maybe Halland the Hallow, but he was never going to be caught, let’s face it. Lisabelle Verlans’s name was also on the list, but I sort of thought that was just a joke.

  “Nice try, though. You’ve made a good effort, but this time tomorrow we’ll have sold you to the highest bidder and we’ll be back home eating steak,” Spark said, licking his lips.

  Spew and I exchanged looks. Her face was pale and she was trembling as we broke through the trees and reached the river. She looked utterly devastated, and I could only imagine that she was imagining her children’s gruesome deaths. In that, she probably wasn’t far off.

  Chapter Eight

  The boat was tiny, but definitely seaworthy. From their point of view it was a good thing they had it, otherwise we would never have gotten where we were going. Personally, of course, I would have preferred that there be no boat at all, since the situation was going from bad to worse as far as I was concerned. I had a feeling that the imminent discovery of my identity would happen in a spectacular and unpleasant manner, but I still couldn’t figure out any good way out of the situation.

  I settled into the back of the boat with a sigh and thought briefly of throwing myself overboard. But I soon thought better of it. I wouldn’t get very far without using magic, and I couldn’t leave without my ring anyhow. I’d watched Sparell put the ring into one of her pockets, and I could see the fabric hanging down slightly from the weight of the metal. I tried to keep my eyes from flicking to it constantly, but it was hard. I felt unsettled and ill without it on my person, and they must have noticed, because they took turns looking at me and grinning.

  “The Black Market doesn’t start until tomorrow,” said Spark, “but we’re going today because we’re going to have one of the premier attractions.” He turned to his mother and said, “Will they recognize that ring, do you suppose, or can we keep it for ourselves?”

  “I’m sure they’ll know what’s best to do with it,” said his mother hopelessly. “They will probably ask after it anyway, and it is not a good idea to lie to the Appraiser.”

  The underground paranormal network was extensive and powerful. Black Markets were popping up everywhere, mostly to deal with the many artifacts that were now unprotected and easy to steal, but also on the off chance that one of the paranormals on the list they printed daily had been caught. The fact of the matter was, some paranormals were more valuable than others to the rising criminal underground, just as some artifacts would give their possessors more power than others could. An artifact that could turn the colors of walls from pink to blue might be sought after by decorators, but it wasn’t worth a lot of money to anyone else. On the other hand, paranormals who could close magical circles, harness fire, heal death wounds, or otherwise give a service that few if any others could provide were paid for in astronomical fees or blood. Many of the most valued paranormals in the world were not accessible to bounty hunters. The president of the paranormals was a very strong werewolf, but she was surrounded by clear protections. The queen of the Rapier vampires was deadly beyond price, but as queen she had extensive and ancient magical protections. No one would dream of buying her, even in the unlikely event of being given the opportunity. The terror that would rain down wasn’t worth the power they’d have to try to wrest from her grasping dead fingers.

  However, there were some very high value targets out in the open. Given the displacement of paranormals after the war, there were many, especially young paranormals who had perhaps lost one or both parents in the war, who didn’t have a safe haven to turn to and were easily caught by bounty hunters. Either that, or they were forced to join dangerous gangs, a f
ate that was hardly preferable to being caught by bounty hunters, since the price of joining one of the gangs was often death. Several deadly and very powerful gangs were now operating in the paranormal world that had powerful mages and other magical beings at their disposal.

  They all still lacked one thing that they needed, though.

  Which was why after all this time I was still at the top of the list. My sister was there too, but given where she lived and worked she was deemed unattainable by the average or even above average crook.

  My sister thought that my inclusion on the list, or rather my being raised to the top of it, was why I had left. She had accused me of intentionally wanting to put myself in danger, some crap about needing to feel alive, because otherwise I walked around like a zombie. Needless to say I didn’t appreciate the accusation. Obviously my inclusion on the list meant that in reality it would be better if I stayed put in a safe place, but I just figured that the bounty hunters had plenty of other stuff to do, and plenty of other paranormals to chase. By the time I figured out that I was a prize worth dropping any other bounty for it was too late. I had already left and sworn to my sister that I wouldn’t come back.

  To this day I wondered how she could say stuff like that to me. I didn’t feel alive now, I just felt scared. The intense desire to be left alone and not to have to hide overwhelmed other feelings, like anger, but the fear was always there. I had learned that I wasn’t going to be left alone, and there was a good chance I wasn’t going to be able to survive out there on my own. My sister had known that, she knew more about the world than I did. I just wished I had known it sooner myself.

  I watched the tired trees move slowly past. The river was calm today, flowing gently with barely a ripple. Unlike the stretch that had brought me here, roiled by storm, I didn’t think bodies would sink to the bottom in this calm water like Greta’s had. There was no wind or rain now, just a thick stillness. Every so often I would look to the shore and see animals watching us as we passed. Sometimes they would run, but mostly they would just stand there, thin and gaunt, and watch us move, some with haunted eyes that seemed almost human.

  The further downriver we got, the fewer trees there were and the more the wind picked up. Periodically I caught a whiff of some stench that I couldn’t identify, and I tried not to breathe it in, but it soon got too pervasive to avoid.

  The sky grew darker as the morning went on. We made a quick stop for lunch, which didn’t amount to much. They had dried scones and some roots, and they still gave me nothing. By this time I was getting seriously hungry, but I tried to remain impassive, because I figured I was better off with as little of Spark’s attention as I could manage. As we got back into the boat, I felt a root slipped into my hand and turned to see Spew standing behind me. She didn’t even glance at me as she moved past, and I quickly looked away and stuffed the meager offering into my mouth, trying to look innocent and oblivious.

  Once we were moving again I could feel a sort of pulsing darkness rolling over the hills, down the plains, and through the woods that surrounded us. I turned my face to the cold wind, searching for a clue to what was going on, but whatever it was, it was far beyond my reading. The clan hadn’t really seemed to notice the power rolling through the air, and that, at least, didn’t surprise me at all.

  Suddenly, with no warning, the water started to churn and bubbles started to rise, as if we were gliding over a hot spring.

  “What is this?” one of the clan asked, looking at the dark river.

  None of the others had noticed. Spark glanced over the edge of the boat and shrugged. “Night’s coming, power’s growing. I’m sure it’s nothing.” He returned his eyes forward.

  “There is no such thing as nothing in the paranormal world,” I said through gritted teeth. Spew gave me a worried look. She wasn’t as much of an idiot as her son, and she knew we were in extreme danger.

  When the water started to rise, Sparell leaned forward and pressed her hand to the bottom of the boat, then pulled it away with a cry. “It’s hot,” she said in wonder.

  “Yeah, because you’ve gone and messed with paranormal magic you shouldn’t have,” said Spew angrily. “I knew this would lead to trouble.”

  “One more word, Mother . . .” Spark had drawn the dagger he had threatened me with the night before and was now pointing it at her.

  One of the other clan members intervened, saying, “Stop it, Spark. You can’t talk to your mother that way.”

  For several tense seconds nothing happened, then Spark lowered his knife.

  Before anyone could react further, light exploded in front of us as a fireball rocketed into the air. All eyes turned forward to watch it, so quickly, while no one was paying any attention to me, I reached my bound hands over the side of the boat, shoved them into the water, and instantly felt the welcoming warmth as my power greeted the river.

  I let my hands dangle in the water as the fireball in front of us died down. The river calmed down at my touch, and we were able to keep moving. By the time I removed my hands from the water it was full dark, and no one noticed what I was doing. I held my hands between my knees, letting droplets fall where they might. Despite their bad intentions toward me, I didn’t want these people to drown if I could prevent it. There had been more than enough death already.

  “Hey, the water’s gone down,” said one of the clan. “How’d that happen?”

  “Yeah, how’d that happen?” I said.

  “Stop asking questions,” said Spark. “I’m sick of hearing your voice. Anyhow, we’re almost there,” he added eagerly. “Good thing the meeting party isn’t going to know what hit them.”

  I felt like telling him that neither would he, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. The paranormals he was messing with, no one could stand against them. An army couldn’t have stood against them, not when they wanted something. If they knew where I was, as I always suspected at least some of them must, and they decided to come, Spark’s anger would feel silly and toy-like. He would be crushed.

  I could now see a black dock, and I realized that the fireball that had climbed the sky was a signal from someone on shore. This was going to be a long night following a long couple of days, and I told myself I really needed to spend some time plotting how to escape, while trying to not get killed in the process. My friends back home would never forgive me.

  Chapter Nine

  The long black dock was new and fancy and shone brightly even in the moonlight. The sky was a sort of dark gray, with no clouds but also no visible stars. It was strange to look up and see something so unfamiliar. It made me feel like I was in a different world, so after a while I stopped looking at it. Keeping my eyes down, I let Sparell lead me away. Spark, who was nearly skipping with glee, demanded to see the Appraiser.

  “Who’s that?” the Bounty Hunter asked, pointing at me. I tried to keep my face down, but Spark grabbed my chin and forced me to meet the Bounty Hunter’s eyes.

  The man was massive. He had a shaved head and a big beard and his black eyes poked out of a wide face. He basically didn’t have a neck. I wouldn’t have wanted to fight him for any amount of money.

  “Put him in the cage. He can see the Appraiser in the morning,” said the Bounty Hunter, thumbing one massive hand at a cage nestled between two bigger buildings to our right. The cage was small, but at least it was empty. From inside it I would be able to see the river and any other paranormal who came into the dock, a vantage point that might prove useful. Any time I could see the river or a lake was better than any time I couldn’t.

  “We’re all pretty hungry,” said Sparell, stepping forward.

  “Good for you,” said the Bounty Hunter as he turned and walked away.

  For months now, every morning when I woke up I had thought about how I could manage not to get caught that day. Somehow I had managed never to think about what I would do if I actually did, so now I was woefully unprepared. In my imagination I was fearless, I could face down anything. I had already faced
down darkness and death, I had lost some of the people I loved most, I was, in short, not your average seventeen-year-old. Still, when push came to shove, I felt pain and fear like anyone else. I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want anyone, even Spark, to die because of me.

  I hadn’t been able to protect Greta, and she had died. She had a family, she had people who missed her, she had deserved better, and these stupid Bounty Hunters didn’t care about any of it. They didn’t care that they had killed her and destroyed her family’s life. They didn’t care about anything but the chase and the score.

  I hated them for that. I hated them for making me hide.

  Okay, I would have had to hide anyway, because there were those who wanted to sell me and those who wanted to kill me.

  I was very angry.

  And what happened to Greta - I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

  That night I slept, and for once I fell to dreaming instead of thinking about Greta. I was running through a field, wildflowers were everywhere, I found myself smiling. I felt safe and happy; I felt like I was going home. The level of comfort I felt in the dream was in stark contrast to the situation I found myself during my waking life, captured by bloodthirsty Bounty Hunters who would know who I was in the morning. I couldn’t be sure what they would do with me, but none of the likely options were good.

  Option 1. Sell me to the slave drivers, those who used others’ paranormal power for their own ends. There were a handful of very rich drivers who could pay any price for me. The paranormal president had tried to have them arrested, but they lived in the mountains, up in the clouds, and were too protected to be vulnerable to a fight.

  Option 2. Ransom me to my family. This was unlikely. They wouldn’t want my family’s attention.

  Option 3. Put me to work assisting in creating powerful workings. There were all sorts of advanced spells that hadn’t been performed for years because all the paranormal types weren’t available to come together. Whoever had me would no longer have that problem.