The Elementalists

EMMA

                  
I've been walking around for about an hour now, trying to figure out which path the agents took, but there's no sign of them at all. They didn't even bother to leave tire tracks or even a simple strand of hair.

   Although, even if they had, I doubt I'd notice. I'm no detective, after all.

   My legs are growing sore, and I'm sweating. I wish Robin were here, but then I remember that she was kidnapped. Not just sick for the day; not at home watching movies on her purple television. Kidnapped. I feel like collapsing onto the ground and sobbing, but I have to be strong. For Robin.

   "What would Robin be doing right now if I got kidnapped?" I ask myself out loud. I smile and answer my own question, "Oh, that's right, blowing the agents up to get me back. Too bad I can't do that yet."

   I sigh. I've looked all around the school grounds, and found nothing. I decide that I should look in the woods, and if I don't find anything, then I'll head back.

   It's only about a fifteen minute walk to the woods. I'm lazy and tired, but the weight of Robin and Mark's lives on my shoulders keeps me moving. When I make it to the woods and see no possible paths that a van could've taken, I finally break down and start crying.

   "Robin," I whisper, "you can't be gone..."

   "Don't cry, Miss."

   I look up immediately at the sound of the voice, which was so quiet, I wonder if I even heard it, or if I was imagining it.

   "Robin will be fine. She always pulls through. Just don't cry, okay?"

   I look around for the source of the voice. I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl; it's so quiet a voice. It has a sad tone to it; the melodic, quiet, and sad voice of someone who has experienced something tragic at a young age.

   "Where are you?" I yell. "Who are you?"

   "Just don't cry, Miss, and I'll tell you. That is, if you really do know Robin."

   It's definitely a boy's voice. A young boy's voice. "How old are you?" I ask. "You don't sound much older than eleven, maybe."

   "I'm twelve," the boy says, and I watch as he peeks out from behind a tree. "My name is Angel. You're a friend of Robin's?"

   I nod, and study the boy. He isn't very tall, and he's bundled up in mittens and winter clothing even though it's nearly summer now. He has white shaggy hair upon his head, and he has light, cornflower blue eyes that are glazed over.

   In other words, he has no pupils.

   "What the--!" I begin, and then I regain myself. "I mean, what happened to your eyes? Are you blind?"

   "No," the boy says. "I should be though. I should be dead. I want to be dead, but I can't be. I want to be with Xander."

   "What?" I ask. The boy shakes his head and runs off, deeper into the woods. "Hey!" I call out, and I take off after him.

   I weave in and out of trees, losing sight of the boy several times. Only a flash of his white hair in the distance keeps him in my sight. I run for about five minutes, and then I find myself out of the woods, in the open.

   No, not quite in the open. I'm surrounded by a circle of woods; I'm standing in a grassy field with a lake and flowers and blooming plants everywhere. I see fruit trees clustered around me, and, right next to a large burnt-looking patch of grass stands a willow tree.

   I look around for the boy, but he's nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I call out. "Angel? Come back, I need to know whatever you know about Robin!"

   "Don't yell, Miss," comes the boy's now-familiar voice, "I brought you here for a reason." Angel steps out from behind the willow tree and looks up at me. "See that," he says, pointing to the burnt patch of grass, "that there? That's where my house was sixteen years ago, before the arsonist came."

   "Arsonist?" I ask, and then I realize something else as well. "Wait, you're only twelve, so how could this have been 'your house' sixteen years ago?"

   "I'm an angel, Miss," Angel says matter-of-factly, "and angels don't die." He looks over at the burnt patch of grass and adds, "The last Fire Elementalist was bad. She did this. She killed my family, you know. All I saw was black snow, 'cause I was playing in the woods, and I came running back, but it was too late. They were gone. I buried them underneath that willow tree, right there, you see?" He points to the willow tree that stands next to where his house used to. "Daemon helped me."

   "I thought we were good, though," I say. "We're for protecting, not killing, right?"

   "You know, Miss," Angel says, "the Dark Elementalists aren't always bad, and the Light Elementalists aren't always good." The boy gives me a sad, almost pitying look, and says, "One of your friends will betray you in the end."

   "Betray us?" I ask. "Like to the government?" I can't think of anyone in our group that would just hand over our lives like that. Not even Jamal would do such a thing; we'd all rather die. Robin proved that she considers our lives more important than her own.

   "I dunno, Miss," Angel says. "I dunno much, I just know what the spirits tell me."

   "Stop calling me 'Miss,'" I tell him. "It's weird, and it's not my name. Just call me Emma, okay?"

   Angel nods. A small smile forms on his lips, but instantly vanishes. I wonder if I was just imagining it when he says, "You remind me of Robin. She never wanted me to call her 'Miss' either."

   "Oh yeah!" I blurt out, suddenly remembering what it was I needed to ask him. "What do you know about Robin? I mean, do you know where she is? How can we get to her? Is she still alive? How's Mark—?"

   "Geez, Mi--Emma," Angel replies, "you sure ask a lot of questions." I laugh, and the boy adds, "I can only answer a few, though. I know that they're taking her to The Lab. She's in a van right now, and yes, she is still alive. Mark is alive, too."

   I open my mouth to ask him more questions, but the boy shakes his head and says, "No, to answer any more questions, I would have to consult to my spirits, and they don't like being bothered in the daytime."

   "Oh," I say sadly, "okay." I think for a moment before asking, "Is there any way that you could come back with me? I think you'd be a great help to the others and me."

   The boy shakes his head. "Can't," he says, "Daemon told me that we have to help you in small ways, so that when you need us most, we'll be there."

   "Daemon?" I ask. He's mentioned the name earlier, hadn't he? "Who's Daemon?"

   Angel opens his mouth to reply, but stops and tilts his head towards the sky, as if he's listening to someone—or something. His eyes grow wide and he says, "I have to go, miss! I have to go now! Your friend needs help!" Then he's running off into the woods, climbing a tree, and jumping from branch to branch. Like a little monkey.

   He's so fast, I think, it's as if he's flying through the trees.

   Like an Angel.

   I decide that I should head back to camp. I didn't learn much, but I know that there are two people trying to help us, and that they both know Robin. I also know that Robin and Mark are still alive, which is the best news that I've heard all day. Maybe I'll finally be able to sleep tonight.

   Now I just have to hope that they can stay alive long enough for us to find—and rescue—them.