Elemental Magic

Elemental Magic

By Angela Wallace

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Copyright 2011 Angela Wallace

Cover art by Fantasia Frog Designs

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Acknowledgements

Praise, honor, and glory go to the Lord Jesus Christ. As always, the words I pen are an offering to You. Mom, thanks for being my most loyal fan and continually supporting my dreams, not to mention being available for when I needed to talk out plot problems, even though I sometimes answered my own questions. Thank you, Alina and Helen, my fellow Knights of the Dragon Pen, who always provide at least a little bit of help on each project. You’re the gals I turn to in moments of writing crises. I love you.

I also want to thank Amber and Raquel and their critique group. You guys provided awesome feedback that really helped shape this final product. My gratitude also goes to my uncle Larry for taking on the role of proofreader. It takes an army to catch those tricksey typos. You are all amazing.

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Chapter One

I lifted the cold compress from my eye and inspected my face in the mirror. The area around my cheekbone was red and already noticeably swollen. I groaned and pressed the icy blob against my skin again. Its sharp bite stung like fire. I was going to have a shiner. Moments like these made me wish having supernatural powers meant I could do the kinds of stuff witches did on those TV dramas, like Charmed. Better yet, I wished I had a drop-dead gorgeous angel who swooped in to heal me all the time. But I wasn’t a witch. I was an elemental, and while I was usually proud of my water-wielding abilities, the only good they did me now was the gelatinous glob I had constructed and cooled to plant on my injury. No, I would have to suffer other people gawking at the bruise. There wasn’t even a good story behind how I got it. Well, I supposed I could phrase it in such a way to make it sound a little interesting: I got sucker-punched by a sea lion. Nope, that still sounded lame.

I had to be the only water elemental who did not get along with the creatures that inhabited my element, which did not make growing up in a marine research center easy. I’ve had dolphins steal my shoes, an octopus pull my hair, and a sea lion spew water all over my Easter Sunday dress. Mom used to try to make me feel better by saying they were just teasing because they liked me, as little boys did when they realized they had a crush on a girl. If so, I had hoped to grow out of it by now. This time the sea lion was supposed to give me a kiss on the cheek, like at those amusement park shows. The brute came up with a little too much force though, and incorrect aim. Keenan claimed the animal didn’t have good depth perception. I think he did it on purpose.

As though on cue, suppressed chuckling came from the hall.

Shut up, I grumbled, for lack of a better snarky comment. It was Keenan’s idea for me to try the trick in the first place. He thought if I just put a little more effort into connecting with the more sentient sea creatures, they’d be nicer to me. I had to face it; I was never going to have command over them. As long as I kept that tidbit to myself, I’d get along just fine in life.

Aileen, it won’t be so bad. Keenan’s boyish, placating voice did not soothe me. The ice will keep most of the swelling down. My older brother was always optimistic. Then again, he’d never been clobbered by a sea lion; no, all the sea animals loved him. Which was why Keenan was the marine biologist and I was a physical oceanographer who dealt with currents and atmospheric interactions.

I moved the ice pack again and picked away strands of dark hair stuck to my skin. Let’s not mention this to Dad. Seamus Donovan was the head of the Undina Research Center in Westport, Washington, a small peninsula town on the south side entrance to Grays Harbor. To the public, the URC was known as a private, well-funded research center incorporating several disciplines from biology to engineering in an effort to discover the secrets of the ocean and improve our society’s interaction with it. While that’s exactly what we were, the URC was also one of the many research centers or front companies set up all over the world by the Stewardship—a global organization tasked with caring for the earth and its animals.

Every elemental child is born and raised to serve the Stewardship. We even had special boarding schools where children were taught not only academics, but also how to use their powers—all for the good of the Stewardship, of course. Duty above all else was paramount in our society. I went to college to study oceanography because that’s what my dad and brother did. The URC was a family business in more ways than one. Donovans had been running it since its founding in the early 1900s. After graduating, I came back home to work at an apprentice level. Even though I had already learned the details of working in the center from growing up and practically living in it, proper procedure dictated an Apprentice work under supervision for a year or two in her field before she could take the credential exams and become a full-fledged Steward. My exams were scheduled in two months.

It’s not like commanding a sea lion to kiss you is going to be on the test, Keenan said.

I don’t need it in my evaluation. Dad may love me, but he’s honest. It was your idea anyway. Frustrated, I tossed my ice pack into the nearest planter where it splashed back into liquid form. Dad and Keenan had always been gracious about my shortcoming. I doubted the larger elemental community would be. I wasn’t keen on walking around with that kind of label; plus, I had a family reputation to live up to. Dad was one of the top experts in our field and was always being called upon as a consultant. I wanted that level of respect someday.

You worry too much. No Donovan has ever failed the exams.

Yeah, thanks, I muttered. That would be the thing to say after I pass.

Keenan tilted his head at me and quirked a smile. What are you going to tell Dad then?

Dad was currently at a conference in Gottenheim, Germany and was due back in a week. The bruise could fade to a greenish-yellow easily covered up with make-up by then. It was irrational, this need to hide setbacks from my father. I had always been Daddy’s little girl, but I was twenty-six now, and had been feeling the desire to distinguish myself.

I’ll think of something.

Keenan shook his head, sections of black hair falling into his eyes. My brother was handsome. He had that Black Irish thing going for him: mysterious dark eyes and a smile that always hinted he knew something everyone else didn’t. He often got appreciative looks, but I don’t think he noticed. He was a loner, and not just because he took his duty to the Stewardship as seriously as I did—he was a pensive soul, and many girls didn’t have the patience for him. There had been one back in college, and I thought she’d been perfect for him, but as can happen in the Stewardship, their assignments had them stationed far apart.

I had never experienced love like Keenan, and like him, I wasn’t looking. I was content with my life, and all I wanted at the moment was to become a full-fledged Steward and establish myself in the community. I inspected myself in the mirror again. My hair wasn’t as black as Keenan’s, but a heavily dark brown. I tried being stylish in college once, though it never behaved. My hair was dry and straw-like from salt exposure. I always wore it in a ponytail because that was easiest and more time should be spent working than getting dressed for it. Even if I did care about my appearance, it wasn’t like I had much to work with: limp hair, bushy eyebrows, and sun-kissed freckles. I had my mother’s blue eyes though. Dad used to tell me they looked like the surface of shallow pools hinting at treasures just underneath. My dad was a romantic, and his two children were workaholics. I shrugged to my reflection because I had no explanation.

Anyway. Keenan held out my cell phone. You left this in the lab—again.

I shrugged. I’d have come back for it.

Yes, but instead I had to walk all the way up here to tell you that Colin Benson is here to see you.

I groaned. I had been hoping to avoid outside humiliation. Can it wait?

He wants to talk to you about assisting in the search for the Allegro.

The ship lost at sea three nights ago?

Keenan nodded.

I sighed. Well, I guess I can. But Tammy or Jake could too. Even you could do it. I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes.

You have a closer relationship with him, Keenan replied. "Besides, I want you to do it."

The seriousness in his voice made me pause. Is your Spidey sense tingling?

Keenan narrowed his eyes. "It is not a Spidey sense."

I tried not to smile. Keenan took his extra senses very seriously. It was one of the few things I was effectively able to tease him about. Where I was lacking, Keenan excelled, but his skills reached into the realm of prodigy, which can be just as lonely as the other end of the spectrum.

You think something’s up though?

He nodded, gaze going distant. The harmony is off, and it started about the same time the Allegro went missing. Whether that event is the cause or the first symptom, it’s a clue.

Got it. I was used to Keenan’s talk of nature’s harmony and rhythm, even though it did sound a bit New Age, and I trusted him enough to take it seriously. It was a good thing my sense of duty would always override any sense of vanity. On the bright side though, I wasn’t black and blue yet, so maybe Colin wouldn’t notice.

Our house was on the western side of town, away from businesses and tourist attractions, near the Pacific part of the ocean. It sat on a small incline with a private road that went straight down to the research center on the shore. It was a quick drive down in the jeep, though walking was also an option when leisure afforded it.

Since the URC wasn’t typically open to the public, it lacked a lobby and reception desk. We did give tours to local schools, however, so we had a front door that opened into a large, dome-shaped room that then branched off into the various labs, which were also connected by hallways on the other side of the building. To a stranger, it could seem like a labyrinth, but the point was to have multiple routes to the same destination. Someone was more likely to go in circles than get lost in dead ends.

I entered the lobby where Lieutenant Commander Colin Benson of the United States Coast Guard was standing, rocking on his heels as he surveyed ocean-themed artwork and photographs commemorating the URC’s legacy of elemental scientists. Sometimes I wondered how long it would be before my picture was up there.

Colin wore a dark blue uniform, an embroidered ball cap covering most of his mousy brown hair. About a year ago, he had starting growing out the standard crew cut and now had short, supple layers. It looked good. He had honey brown eyes, and held himself with shoulders back and straight. The loose-fitting T-shirt hid firm muscles underneath. Colin was a few years older than me though not yet thirty, putting him on the younger side for an officer with his stripes. He was diligent and devoted, climbing the ranks with ease, though I knew he wasn’t planning on going all the way to a desk job. He enjoyed the thrill of his work too much.

Colin and I were good friends, considering I didn’t socialize much outside scientific, elemental circles. We first met at one of the local bars where most of the officers hung out. I originally went with my coworkers for some light fun, a break from constant work. I had found the place to be a wealthy gathering of gossip about what was happening at sea, and eavesdropping became my primary occupation. When I met Colin, it turned out we had a lot in common. He had an officer’s nobility, an air of honor and duty that I felt akin to. We both enjoyed talking about work, and later even started helping each other out—I lent my scientific expertise, and he would act on our tips about poachers and polluters—so it was no surprise he had come here today.

Hey, Aileen. Colin’s brows furrowed slightly as I got closer. What happened there? He nodded toward my face.

What do you mean? I resisted the urge to lift my hand and cover my cheek. That would be a dead giveaway. He tilted his head forward with the look that called out many a stout man on his bullshit.

I sighed. Sea lion.

You were attacked by a sea lion? His eyes crinkled as though he was trying to decide whether to find that funny or call up a hunt for a rabid beast.

I crossed my arms. How can I be of assistance?

Seeing my annoyance put a grin on his face. You heard about the cargo ship?

Keenan filled me in. What is it you need me to do?

We need a new search grid. We’ve exhausted the area where the ship’s GPS last transmitted coordinates. Your work with current patterns and calculating destinations is better than what we’ve got. We need calculations for the ship and the lifeboats. He didn’t say what we both knew: the rate of survival when adrift in the open sea was tenuous unless one had a boat equipped for such an event. I wasn’t sure how many sailors one lifeboat could support.

No problem. I’ll need specs on the ship and its plotted course.

Colin whipped out a plain office folder he had tucked under his arm and handed it to me. Thought you might.

I took it and attempted to hide a smirk. You walked in expecting me to say yes, didn’t you?

He smiled. You always say yes.

I held off opening the file. I could have been swamped with some very important research, you know.

More important than a missing ship?

I muttered a concession. You never know, impending tsunami, hurricane…

Colin shook his head in amusement and reached into one of his front shirt pockets to pull out a two-inch, dolphin-shaped sticky notepad, which he waved at me. A lagniappe?

I laughed and snatched the gift away from him. Search the dictionary hard for that one? I admired the cerulean blue, Lisa Frank style dolphin. Colin had this running tradition of giving me fun sticky notepads ever since he saw my office and computer wall-papered with them.

He shrugged. Word of the day on the dispatcher’s calendar.

I grinned and took a peek inside the folder. Let me pull up the data on weather and currents from the past week and then I’ll start running through the algorithms.

Colin nodded. When you’re ready, we’ll go out on the boat.

That’d be good. I could make adjustments to calculations as needed, not to mention use my other skill to glean information from the depths of the sea.

Colin went back to the station to wait for my findings. We had a lot of data on ocean currents and weather patterns for the past few days, so that took time to print. Oddly, the weather had been friendly the past week, making the Allegro’s disappearance sudden and unexplainable. I spread out over the conference table with my highlighters and sticky pads.

Keenan dropped in and out, double-checking my equations, which I was grateful for. Otherwise I’d be tempted to triple-check them, and I didn’t think that was a productive use of a shrinking time window. There was accurate and there was anal. I rode the line on that one often. Okay, way over the line.

It was almost one o’clock by the time I felt satisfied with my results. There was still enough daylight left to do a partial search, which was more important than the grumbling in my stomach over missed lunch. I gathered the paperwork together, forsaking the next logical step of organizing it into a folder since I felt a pressing need to hurry.

Keenan walked me to one of the URC’s jeeps and held the door open for me as I juggled the armful of printouts. Good luck.

Thanks. I ended up throwing the papers over the passenger’s seat.

The Coast Guard station was a short drive from the URC. I had called ahead, so when I arrived, Colin was already set on board a twenty-five-foot Defender-class boat. I shuffled down the dock as best I could without losing a stray piece of important data, which I should have organized into a folder after all. But lives were at stake, right? I didn’t think perfectionism ever saved someone from drowning. Still, the unprofessionalism irked me.

Colin smiled and reached out a hand to help me board the boat. I walked into the cabin and deposited my armful of papers. The most important piece I had in my pocket so I could readily pull it out.

Here are the coordinates we should check first. I handed the dolphin sticky note to Ned, who would be piloting our little excursion. He raised an eyebrow at it, but shrugged, and I exchanged a grin with Colin. Ned was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and shaved head. He reminded me of a football player, although in his Coast Guard uniform he looked more like a hardcore Navy Seal, which I think he had been.

They’re laminated, Colin said in disbelief, surveying the scattered mess I had made of their dash panel.

My cheeks warmed. Okay, maybe a folder would have been a better choice than that, but I was thinking of the longevity of the paper subjected to high winds and salty mist. Waterproof, was the only explanation I could manage, and hurried to organize them. I caught him grinning out of the corner of my eye.

Colin gave Ned the signal to start up the engine and take us out. We’d be using side scan sonar for our underwater search. If we picked up anything beneath the surface, we’d mark the coordinates and divers would come out later. Nothing at the bottom of the ocean would be alive anyway. It probably would have been easier to ask any sea-faring animals to do the search for me. Not that they would listen. Plus, any discovery would be hard to explain. I could, however, listen in on underwater gossip. Those that swam in groups tended to be very chatty.

After about a twenty-minute ride out, Ned steered us into a grid search of the area I had given him. I pretended to pore over more calculations as I extended my mind to dip beneath the water. My sensing abilities were impressive, even Keenan said so, and therefore made up a little for my other deficiency. Elementals could communicate with any creature in their element in close proximity. In addition, water elementals could seek out creatures by coasting through physical contact with water.

I, however, wasn’t limited by that constraint. So, without the need to bend over the boat and rake my fingers through the water like a five-year-old, I came upon a pod of dolphins chattering about a human floating in the water. Dolphins didn’t speak English, of course. What I got was a sense of feelings and flashing images, almost like telepathy. Unfortunately, even that was delivered in the same quick succession as their vocal clicks, so my head was overwhelmed with first a glimpse of a hand, then a torso, then the sensation of zooming past it to see if they could make it spin, all from differing points of view. It was enough to make me dizzy. I touched upon another mind, this perspective farther away and closing in. Great. A shark. Unlike the dolphins, it wasn’t interested in play. It had smelled blood.

I whipped my head up and tugged my shirt down in an effort to hide my urgency. I have an adjustment. I tried to sound as though I’d come to it after careful consideration, and pointed in the general direction because dolphins didn’t give latitude and longitude.

Ned gave me a skeptical look. Shouldn’t we do this in order?

I marked down where we left off. I hoped I sounded nonchalant. Based on my information though, I think shifting our focus could be more beneficial. Just don’t say where that information came from. With what daylight we have left, I added. I glanced in the general direction, but couldn’t see anything, and I had no idea how far the shark was from the body. Trying to get it back if he got to it first would not be pleasant. Maybe the dolphins would slow down his approach.

Colin gave Ned the go-ahead and we changed course. I flashed Colin a smile, grateful that he trusted me enough not to pick at my reasoning. I tried not to