Orchid

We Have Hot Chocolate

We follow Lycaeon and her eager pet Xander to a spacious outdoor verandah, where the table is all set up with refreshments. We pull seats out. We're just helpless. Our attacks do nothing but wear us out, which is even worse.

Hero grips my arm and hisses in my ear, "Did I mention I hate French? I can still remember school. It was horrible." She tries mocking someone who's French. "Il a mis le cafe, dans la tasse." Seeing my confused look, she explains. "An old poem by Jacques Prevert."

"Pervert." I try to hide my laughter as Hero rolls her eyes.

"Well....the poem did have Il a allume la cigarette....."

"Say no more," I say as Lycaeon elegantly seats herself. Xander stands alertly.

"Ah....I always love a cold winter afternoon," Lycaeon says as Xander starts pouring drinks from a crystal container. "Aimez-vous le chocolat, la filles?"

Hero translates reluctantly for me. "Do you like chocolate, girls?" Then under her breath, "Airilia will kill you, then eat all your chocolate."

I shake my head, and so does Hero. Lycaeon looks disappointed. "I promise it isn't poisoned. Pinky swear." She holds up her pinky, expecting us to actually curl it around it. Xander pours steaming hot chocolate with unpleasant-looking white blobs I assume are marshmallows, sloshing a fair amount on the table. I look away from it. Hero just frowns and clears it all up with a delicate little napkin on the table.

Lycaeon sips from her mug. "Ah....I enjoy this day. Maybe it is my French blood that loves a beautiful icy cold winter. My sister has strayed from it and decided to love summer, which disgusts me. Who would want dripping sweat on your brow, huh?" She giggles one of her bright and empty laughs. "She has no sense of style. She just throws on a long-sleeved robe that's white with a dress that's green, made out of cotton." She throws her head back and cackles in joy. "I mean, that's so clashing! Those colors are horrible! If I were her, I would wear a black robe with a gold-lined silver dress."

Even I wouldn't wear green with white. It would look too Irish, which is kinda dumb if you're not. I have to admit Lycaeon has a point. It looks like Lycaeon got an overload of the girly gene and Shira got a smidgen, if none.

I feel really thirsty. I haven't gone a day and a half without food or water. I realize it's the power and energy, the adrenaline in my body from the new powers. I look longingly at the mug that sits in front of me.

"Don't," Hero says as Lycaeon smiles and waves her hand.

Carefully, I take a tentative sip. The hot chocolate burns down my throat. Oops, forgot to check the temperature. I taste no sweetness in it but instead, I pay the price for being lured into ever trusting Lycaeon, ever trusting Yin. Because I failed to remember the evils of the world, the ignorance of people.

My whole body burns and wriths with flames. Darkness engulfs me in a lick of fire and I pass out.

I come to slumped across the crystal table, my chin rested on a puddle of the chocolate in dim moonlight. Alone. I spit out the stuff in my mouth. It was oil. I know it was because of the unmistakable smell. And the oil that Lycaeon served me was poisonous. And it took one of my lives. Which means....one of my elements are gone.

Panic courses through me. I'd lost an element--in less than two days! I press my fingers to my side and call on Fire. It blazes through. I sigh in relief as I call on Water. The puddle of oil smooths and comes clear like glass. I call on Air. Air responds and tousles my hair. I call on Earth, pressing my palm to the ground of the verandah. The earth doesn't rumble like I expected it to.

No need to test Spirit. I've lost Earth. I feel so empty and dejected, like a piece of me has broken away and left me. Without wanting to, I start crying, the tears rolling salty and small on my face. I'm no Warrior. I'm just a sad, stupid sixteen-year-old who can't even control her tears. Just a crybaby. I'm not fit to save Vidalia from the fashion queen and her puppy puppet. Hero is a Warrior. She can do it. Heck, even Jenna can do it with her mouth. She'd probably be best friends with Lycaeon and then smash in her skull.

I decide to go inside, abandon outside. But as I go in, I'm greeted by pure blackness. All lights are out. It must be late. I can barely see, so I light my palm with a flame. All along the walls are pictures of Lycaeon. Fluffing up her gorgeous dark hair on the verandah. Smiling as she poses in a sparkling dress. What a snob. If Jenna doesn't like her because she's jealous, the other alternative is that they become best friends in destroying Vidalia, drinking in unpoisoned hot chocolate, and dressing in the latest style. Jenna could definitely offer advice to her about not doing the eyeliner so much. They're so alike. They're both snitches, witches, and yes, the word that rhymes with those words and starts with a b.

I can't bear to stay here anymore. I thrust the verandah door open and summon gentle Air to carry me upward. As soon as I'm far from the Yin headquarters and just drifting in the blue-black sky, I lower Air and land on a grassy patch of meadow. Sleep and grief overwhelms me, and I hug a stump of a tree as my eyes close and I fall into a deep sleep.