Broken Elements (Elements, Book 1) Read online

  “I’m not an old one, I’m…” the granddaughter of an incredibly old one and the daughter of a very old one. “Half-human,” I muttered. Simon didn’t seem too interested in that distinction. “Hey, I grew up in a small island community. We didn’t get a lot of outsiders. Or any outsiders, ever. I was taught that shifters were the stuff of myths,” I said, hoping I wasn’t causing offense. I’d also been told shifters could not possibly exist, because they’d be dreadful perversions of nature, but I decided Simon didn’t need to hear great-grandma’s opinions on that topic.

  He raised one single delicate eyebrow. “And you are not?” I opened my mouth to protest and found that I really had no comeback. “Indeed. You are a direct descendant of the earth’s primordial magic. So am I. It just took a slightly different path to arrive at me.” With one hand, he gracefully indicated his own magical body.

  “But I can trace my lineage back, literally, to the dawn of time. I know exactly where I came from. I even know where Sera came from. I’m sorry, but I have no idea where you came from.”

  He pulled a notebook from his messenger bag and began to flip through it. “One moment, please. I’m looking for my family tree... no, that’s right. Cats don’t keep detailed written records.” He tossed the book on the seat beside him. “I cannot tell you which of my relatives mated with which of my other relatives for the past 30,000 years. That sounds rather tedious, honestly, and quite unnecessary. I turn into a cat. I consider that sufficient proof of my magical heritage.”

  “Yes, but how did you end up so different from us?” I wasn’t quite ready to let him get away with claiming that we originated from the same source. As much as I loathed for my opinions to mirror those of the relatives who turned up their noses at my human paternity, I had difficulty believing I shared ancestors with a man who used his own tongue to bathe.

  “Tell me the history of your people. I will stop you when our stories diverge and the story of my people begins.”

  This was familiar ground. I had heard these stories nearly every night as I grew up. I was not raised with Green Eggs and Ham or The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I was raised with the oral history of the elementals, the waters in particular. I could trace my entire family line, tell you when and where they were born. No elemental child raised by the old ones was brought up otherwise. We were born from the original life form, and none of the old ones wished to forget that truth.

  I turned off the music and began to tell the story. I could almost hear my great-grandmother speaking through my voice. “Magic existed at the dawn of time, and it manifested as life. This life formed alongside the lands as they shifted and the waters as they rose and fell. The first creatures were a part of the land and the water, and they came to know the earth’s ways, to understand them to the very root of their being. They learned how to make the tides ebb and flow, to cause the desert sands to billow across the dry earth, to make lava spew from mountains and reshape the land.”

  I paused, checking to see if my audience was still with me. No one interrupted, so I continued. “The land and water sustained life for the first creatures by offering a continual source of magic, the same magic that first created this world and everything in it. The creatures in turn cared for the land and water. They helped the trees grow lush and tall and let the waters flow from mountain to stream to ocean. They brought rain to parched fields and burned forests whose time had passed, letting new life blossom in their place. In this way, our world grew rich. The earth and water, so healthy and satisfied, became complacent and found themselves desiring something new, something different. From this desire was born humans and animals.”

  I glanced at Sera. She smiled at me, and I knew she felt it, too. We loved living as humans, eating and drinking and reveling as only those with short lifespans can. We sought that life out at every opportunity, but we also knew it was only part of who we were. We were elementals and raised by the old ones. We breathed the natural world with our every inhalation. Even now, I could feel the droplets gathering in the air for another rainstorm, feel the magnetic pull of Lake Shasta growing stronger with each mile we drove south. I knew Sera would light a fire when we stopped for the night and would warm herself by it body and soul, finding more strength and renewal in the flames than eight hours sleep could ever provide. She would juggle small flames through the air, making them pop and sizzle in the wet air.

  Simon lightly tapped my shoulder with his fingertips. “That’s a lovely story, and I’m sure not biased in the slightest, but you’ve only begun. Continue, please. I’d like to get to the point where I talk about me.”

  I pulled myself from my reverie and returned to the tale I knew so well. “The humans and animals were beautiful and varied, and the original creatures found them remarkable in their way. They did not mind that they ate the earth’s plants and chopped down the trees for wood, for they had worked for many years to create a vibrant and thriving world. The humans were few, and they believed the world could withstand many of their kind. The creatures did not foresee the speed with which the humans would spread or how much they would take from the earth. In despair, they watched their world slowly recede. The originals’ homes eroded as the humans took just a little bit more and then a little bit more. Some chose not to fight at all, and they simply disappeared, moving far from any human settlement. Occasionally, one might hear whispers about these original creatures, rumors that they live still, moving deeper and deeper into the wilds each year, though centuries have passed since any have been seen. Those that remained joined with the humans, hoping to share some of their magic and tie the people to the land they were slowly destroying.” I looked back at Simon. His head was tilted back and his eyes closed, but he was still awake. When he made no move to begin telling his story, I continued.

  “After years of silent observation, the originals found it surprisingly easy to assume human shape and move among them. As now, beautiful women had power, and it was not difficult to lead the human men to their beds. The men’s seed quickened in their wombs, and as the children grew, the women whispered to their bellies, speaking all the secrets of land and water. By remaining in human form and carrying human children, they found humanity imprinted on their bodies. They were unable to return to their original forms and were forever stuck between their world and the human world. Though they mourned their loss, they found comfort in their children, who possessed a magic nearly as pure as that of their mothers. In this way, the first elementals were born, many thousands of years ago.”

  “So far, that matches the stories I have heard, though perhaps more mystical than is altogether necessary,” said Simon. “I would hear just a bit more.”

  I was beginning to feel like I was the entertainment for this leg of the trip, but I didn’t really mind. I always found these stories beautiful and oddly comforting, and I could see they had the same effect on Sera. Besides, it beat arguing about music.

  “To the mothers’ surprise, they found themselves unwilling to part from their children and return to the old way of life. Perhaps they thought their newfound humanity had corrupted them too much, or simply felt they now belonged with the humans. Their children were taught to respect the land and water, but with time and many generations of children, those lessons were forgotten. The descendants of the first creatures lost their connection to the elements, and with it their connection to our magic. In so doing, they also lost their longevity. Few of these children living today know what they are, and they possess a mere fraction of the original magic. But some mothers chose to raise their children in the old way, and so we call those that follow their path the old ones. The old ones tell our stories so that we do not forget. We remember that, beneath our flesh and bones, we are land and water and magic.” I stopped speaking, and the car was silent. Sera did not speak, but when I glanced toward her, I saw that her fingers were emitting small sparks, the magic eager to play.

  Simon finally opened his eyes. “I let you go on a bit long, but I liked hearing that. O
f course, you only know half the story.”

  Finally, it was his turn. I was a little nervous to hear his version of events. After all, it’s somewhat disconcerting to reevaluate your entire origin story. “Right, then. Spill. Where do baby shifters come from?”

  Without rising to my bait, Simon looked me directly in the eye and asked, “Have you never wondered what happened to the fathers?”

  He sat back as if his point was made. I wasn’t that impressed, mainly because I had no idea what that point was. “What fathers?”

  “That story you just told, the original creatures all took a female shape, yes?”

  “Of course. Being female is the best way to get pregnant, or so I’ve heard.”

  He looked disappointed at my obstinacy. Obviously, he hadn’t known me long enough to just take it as a given. “Are you deliberately being dense, or are you a little bit slow?”

  “I’ve asked myself that same question for many years,” Sera helpfully said. “Hold on to your garters, Ade, because this is about to mess with your understanding of the world.”

  “Some of the creatures did not disappear into the wilderness or become human females. Some became animals. Male animals.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He said nothing more, obviously thinking his explanation complete. “But there has to be more to the story. If they could procreate as males, why didn’t they do so as humans? The animals represented no threat to our way of life. We had no need to join with them.”

  Simon stretched across the back seat, leaning his head against the window and bracing his feet against the back of my seat. After taking several moments either to make himself comfortable, or to be certain he had my full attention—I suspected both—he decided I was in a state of sufficient suspense for him to continue. “We now know that elemental magic is matriarchal, though no one can say why. Perhaps it is as you say, and the mothers whisper their secrets to their children, though that seems more fanciful than probable. However, we did not always know this, and at first the originals assumed both male and female shapes. Once the females were pregnant, they remained in their human form. The men who shifted into human males had no reason to remain in that form. While they would undoubtedly have impregnated more females if they tried long and hard enough—”

  Sera snickered. “Well, there’s your problem. They needed to be long and hard if they were trying to have magic babies.” I was not going to smile at that. I was not. I turned my face to the window to hide my grin.

  “—the children that were born showed no signs of magical ability, and the original fathers did not choose to linger with the humans.”

  While I was surprised to hear this footnote from a story I thought I knew in great detail, it still didn’t explain why there was a half-man, half-cat taking up Sera’s entire back seat. Unless... “Wait. Are you telling me that they decided to have sex with animals, instead?”

  Sera laughed at my shocked tone, as the pieces finally clicked together for me. I suspected my face held a badly-concealed look of pure horror. Great-grandma had been right, after all. “Like I’ve always said, Ade—men can be dogs. In this case, quite literally.”

  “There is no need to be so puritanical. At the time, having sex with humans was as far beneath the originals as sleeping with animals. I am sure they did not make the same distinctions we would today. But after copulating with humans, it seems those who assumed a masculine shape rather enjoyed the process. They were reluctant to give it up altogether. For their needs, animals must have seemed superior to humans in many ways. They did not talk. They did not expect the originals to linger after the completion of the act. And, most importantly, shifter magic isn’t matriarchal, though, again, no one knows why. And in this way, the first shifters were born.”

  I didn’t miss the way he parroted my own words back to me. This was his origin story, just as the other was mine. His was just a little more... icky. And still possessing a few plot holes. “But you’re a human! At least some of the time.”

  “Of course. The originals had first formed themselves as men, and that memory lived through their seed. We are animal and human, and we are also magic.”

  “How is your magic still so strong? It’s been thousands of years since those first pairings, and yet you still change easily.”

  He shook his head. “Our magic is not strong. It is simple. Unlike you elementals, whose power is directly linked to the amount of magic in your veins, we do not possess power. We possess an ability, which seems to be coded into our very DNA. Shifters can do one thing: change into an animal and change into a human, and retain reasonably solid memories of their time in the other form. That is it.”

  It was going to take me a while to work through all this. Sera hadn’t been kidding about my understanding of the world being shaken up a bit. I felt like a scientist discovering a new species. A really bad scientist who was still a little squicked out by the idea of originals having sex with animals. “Wait. Are you telling me that one of the originals, one of my long-distant ancestors, screwed a house cat?” The thought was simultaneously horrifying and hilarious.

  Simon was less amused. “Of course not. They roamed the forests, plains and mountains. There are all sorts of small mountain cats spread throughout the world. Certainly, over many thousands of years, my ancestors bred with smaller cats until they looked no different than the typical house cat.” If he’d been in cat form, I suspected that the hair on his neck would be standing on end and his tail would be puffed up to make him look as large as possible. I appeared to have blundered onto a sensitive subject.

  “We’re sure you’re a big tough beast. Oh yes you are. A big tough beast,” Sera said, looking in the rearview mirror. Simon hissed a little, but it was half-hearted. Sera teased everyone. It was part of her charm, such as it was.

  “So, now you know. And get used to it, fast, because there’s another shifter waiting for us in Truckee. And trust me, he won’t take well to being called an abomination or a freak of nature.”

  “Are shifters that common?” I asked. Simon’s elegant shrug seemed to indicate they were common enough. “Then how did we manage to attend four years of university in a magically-drenched location without learning about them at the time?”

  Now that story time was apparently over, Sera returned the music to top volume. “For that, I offer the same explanation I have for every stupid-ass thing we did at college,” she said, voice raised to be heard over Joe Strummer’s guitar.

  “What’s that?”

  “We were drunk.” Hard to argue with that basic truth. “Plus, shifters don’t tend to advertise their existence, even to elementals. Apparently, we don’t have a great track record of not behaving like assholes.”

  “So, another shifter? You think it’s going to take four people this time around?”

  “It’s going to take a complete department, but we all know the local police aren’t up to something like this. So, we’re doing their job for them. And it’s six people, not four.”

  Six people. This morning I hadn’t seen a single living soul other than my mail carrier and the owner of the local market in over a month. Now, I was part of a team, some of whom were occasionally furry. I calculated my odds of escape when we hit Redding. They didn’t look good.

  Sera caught my panicked expression. “Don’t you listen to me? I told you I was getting the band back together.” Though the sun was starting to dip low over the horizon, she dropped a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and grinned at me, even as she drove me toward a seemingly inevitable nervous breakdown.

  Chapter 3

  It was well past midnight when we finally arrived in Truckee. It was a weeknight, and the old California mining town appeared to be sound asleep and wholly indifferent to our arrival. Sera turned onto highway 89 and drove several miles south of town before getting off the highway and heading toward the river. We passed one dark house after another before she finally pulled into a long driveway, just wide enough for a single
car. The dirt road gave way to gravel, and we slowly drew to a stop. I stumbled from the car, muscles tight and complaining after the long drive.

  Yawning and blinking to clear my sleep-muddled mind, I caught my first sight of my temporary home. A large, sturdy A-frame house stood nestled among the trees on an impressive parcel of land. It was constructed of dark wood and plainly built, but after nine hours of driving, it looked like a palace to me. There didn’t appear to be any neighbors within hollering distance, and I could pick out the unmistakable power coming from the Truckee River just behind the house. My opinion of my lodgings improved considerably.

  “Just point me in the direction of my bedroom and do not disturb me for the next ten hours, please,” I said. I lugged my bag up the steps, yawning the whole way. I was a morning person and hadn’t been awake past nine-thirty p.m. in many years. I wasn’t convinced that I liked this time of night anymore. Unwilling to wait for Sera to join me with the keys, I tried the knob and was pleased to find it unlocked. Sure, she might have questionable security standards worth reevaluating with a serial killer on the loose, but at least I didn’t have to wait an extra minute to go to bed. “Upstairs?” I shouted back to her, pointing my finger upwards in illustration.

  She nodded, and I immediately moved toward the spiral staircase just visible in the moonlight pouring through the downstairs windows, not bothering to turn on any lights. I was so focused on my goal that I completely failed to notice the wall that appeared out of nowhere.

  Staggering backwards, I struggled to right myself and found, to my surprise, that the wall was helping stabilize me. I inspected the obstruction in my path. It turned out to resemble not so much a wall as a mountain. A mostly human-shaped mountain, at that. “It’s alive,” I muttered.

  The mountain snorted and removed his hands from my upper arms. “No one has tried to install bolts in my neck yet, but yes, it’s alive.”