The Elementalists

Chapter 2

'You've got it backwards,' Musa mutters. 'It only rains when you leave.'

You are my starlight, my mum used to sing. The light of my life. Shining your way through darkest nights. To me, it's not just a song. It's a mockery. Only clouds follow me, wherever I go. The wind always whips around my face, and then, when I leave, it rains. Maybe the clouds are crying for me. The thought brings a lump to my throat, and a burning shame to creep inside my—

'Oi. Snap out of it.' Musa shoves me in the arm; I stagger, teetering on the edge of the hillside.

'Watch it, idiot!'

'Well, stop moping and hurry up. You're only sixteen once.'

When we're together, our love grows stronger. Be mine forever, my sweet starlight.

We splash through the tunnel until we emerge in a clearing, where rocks have been piled high to create a ring, a large bowl-like crevice. A thick pipe sprouts from the rocks in a spout at the far end of the pool, from which steaming, purple-green water bursts forth. Mist rises from the water, casting a musty, sulphurous stench into the air that makes me gag and stings my eyes. Blinking, I turn to Musa, who's watching me through the mist with a most peculiar expression. The vapour settles in his hair, hissing on contact; droplets begin to run down his temple.

'What are we doing here, Musa?'

He scuffs his feet though the pebbles. 'I—I wanted somewhere quiet. Somewhere we wouldn't be disturbed.'

I swallow. 'Why? What's going on?'

'I wanted somewhere for you to practise.' He takes a step towards me, and beads of sweat blossom on my forehead; whether from the heat of the steam or the beating of my heart faster and faster against my rib cage, I don't know.

'Musa?'

'I know you can do this.'

'No, Musa, not now, not today. I can't!'

'Yes, you can. Close your eyes.'

He's so close now, I can see the faint red marks on his cheeks where the mist is scalding him. The soft velvet of his eyes as they lock with my own. The bubbling of water mingles with the rush of blood through my ears—

'Focus.'

'I can't!'

'I said, focus—'

The noise stops. I breathe deeply and my rapid heartbeat slows, almost to a stop. A tingle on my fingertips slowly spreads through my arms, warming them through the chill.

'That's it, deep breaths, Sammi. You can do this. I know you can.'

The heat curls upwards through my body. I inhale deeply once again, sucking the mist into my body until I'm so full, consumed by it, I'm scared my lungs might burst. Then, as the heat burns my chest. . .

I blow.

The release is like nothing I've ever allowed myself to feel before. Mist floods from my mouth in a torrent, a stream, the force pushing me backwards as I struggle to stay upright, to keep calm, in control. The silence breaks too; all the sounds I've repressed come pouring back: my blood, the pool, Musa shouting my name.

At last, lungs empty, I open my eyes.

Musa is crouched on the ground by my feet. Something above us is blinding. I screw up my eyes against it, shielding my face with my hand. Is that . . . the sun?

The mist is gone.

'You did it.' Musa uses my hanging arm to pull himself upright, a laugh bursting from his mouth. 'Sammi! You did it!'