Elemental Release

Chapter One

"I want the bottom bunk," Isaiah said, dropping his bag on the floor in our new quarters. Bits of soil bounced, though the Elemental Academy had been deemed structurally sound, safe to inhabit, and "clean."

Clearly, though, it wasn't clean. I seriously doubted that Isaiah was ever clean.

"Sure," I said, knowing it would be easier for him to crash on the bottom bunk, what with his blindness and all.

My new quarters inside the diplomacy wing of the Academy weren't as nice as the apartment I'd enjoyed in the Supremist's fortress, but it was vastly better than the sentry barracks where I'd spent a dozen years.

We had a kitchen, which consisted of a fridge, a stove, and four cupboards. Everything was empty, and I had a suspicion it would stay that way. Neither Isaiah nor I was much of a cook, though I'd been trained in the culinary arts in the sentry program.

The Academy had a dining hall, and I'd be eating there. Hopefully with Gabby. She still feared where her next meal would come from—a hazard from having been starved as she ran from the accusations that she'd torched the Elemental school in her home city-state of Crylon.

When I'd first met her, the hunger in her eyes was unmistakable. I knew how she felt. I'd gone days and days without eating, even getting to the point of unconsciousness.

I ran my hand along the counter, noting my skin came away coated with dust. The new Supreme Elemental, Michael Davison, had sent Airmasters through the living quarters. They were supposed to have sent their cyclones in to clear out the fine dust that remained when the previous Surpremist had buried the Academy under thousands of tons of earth. But I supposed that after being completely submerged in earth, the room would take a while to really be free of soil.

The kitchen merged with a living area, which held one couch, an end table, and a cabinet that held a pile of books. We also had a bathroom, and then the bedroom with a double bunk. At least there was a balcony in the living area, though I preferred such fixtures in the room where I slept.

I sighed as I returned to the living room, where Isaiah had stretched out on the couch. His feet dangled off the end of it, and his eyes were closed. I took his bag into the bedroom, as well as mine. I unpacked the extra set of clothes—the only ones I owned—and my spare pair of boots. With that done, I didn't know what else to do.

I wanted to talk to Gabby, try to really make her understand that I was her Airmaster, that I'd abandoned my life as a sentry months before I met her. All the same, I knew she needed time. Finding out I could read minds, and making my actions reconcile with what I told her, would take a girl like Gabby at least a few weeks to sort through.

She hardly ever vocalized what she thought, but the girl had a lot going on in her mind. I tried not to eavesdrop on her, as she was my Councilman and all, but I found I needed to know what she was thinking. I'd never felt like that about anyone before I'd met Gabby, but what she thought was important to me.

Or maybe you just want to know what she thinks about you, I thought. I hadn't decided why Gabby's opinion meant so much to me. I was tired of trying to riddle it out. For that matter, I was tired of trying to convince her that I was loyal and trustworthy.

I returned to the living room and stepped onto the balcony. Instantly, I felt like I could breathe a bit better. The stone walls of the diplomacy wing felt so caging after living under the open sky for so long. Gabby was right about that. So while we'd had a rough go of things for the past several weeks, and neither of us wanted to go back to living off stale crackers and decades-old beef jerky, there was something containing about having a permanent residence.