Darkness Unmasked

An unpleasant tingle ran across my particles, a telltale sign that the wards were definitely working. I spun around and headed skyward, arrowing northwest, straight toward Macedon. There was no point in following the roads—not in this form, anyway.



I was going so fast, the streetlights were little more than vivid streaks. The wind buffeted my body, occasionally throwing me sideways, but I still made good time. Soon the lights of the civilization started giving way to longer patches of darkness as I moved from the city to the country. After a while, I found the Calder Freeway and started following it, simply because the elemental seemed to be. For several miles, there was nothing more than the occasional car zooming past; then, gradually, a deeper, richer glow began to show up on the horizon. It was slightly off the highway, walking through paddocks, flicking flames through the undergrowth and sparking more spot fires.



I sped up. The closer I got, the more certain I became that it was Tao. Or rather, the elemental. Fear slithered through me, but it was fear for my friend, not fear for me.



Soon a fiery form became visible. It was trunk shaped, with thick arms and legs and no head. It dripped fire as it moved, the molten globules sizzling as they hit the ground. The dark energy that rolled off the creature crawled through my particles, making them quiver in discomfort.



This is Tao, I reminded myself fiercely. He wouldn’t hurt me. I had to trust that, if nothing else.



I flew downward, shifting shape as I neared the ground. I landed on hands and knees and skidded forward, skinning my palms and ripping the knees out of my jeans. I cursed softly—more from the pain of those injuries than the incapacitating pain that usually followed such a shift—and forced myself upright. The abrupt movement had the world doing a brief three-sixty around me, but I ignored it and forced my feet forward. A heartbeat later, an all-too-familiar heat ran across my skin.



“I have no sense of Tao within that creature,” Azriel said, voice soft and holding little in the way of emotion.



“You may not sense him, but he’s still there somewhere.”



“If he attacks, you must defend yourself.”



“No.” I glanced at him. “And you won’t defend me, either.”



Anger flickered through his eyes, even though his expression was as remote as it had ever been. “It is my duty to protect you from all danger. That includes threats from friends.”



I stopped and swung around to fully face him. “If you even go near Tao, I’ll fucking attack you myself.”



“Tao is not in control of that being,” he all but growled. The fury he was barely showing washed through my mind, a whirlwind of heat that left me singed. “And he will attack you.”



“Maybe. But he won’t kill me.”



I had to believe that. Had to.



“I cannot stand here and watch—”



“You will,” I cut in. “Promise me, Azriel.”



“No.”



“Damn it, I haven’t asked that much of you. I’m asking this. Please, for me, stand back and let me deal with Tao.”



He eyed me for a moment, then made a short, chopping motion with his hand. “Fine. I will not interfere unless I sense death is inevitable. I will not let you die. Anything more, I will not promise.”



“Thank you.”



I turned and walked toward the fiery form. Its steps were ponderous, as if its flaming trunklike legs were a weight it could barely lift. And yet, for all the appearance of slowness, it was covering a lot of distance fairly quickly.



The closer I got, the hotter it got. Heat rolled over me, furnacelike in its intensity. Sweat beaded across my brow and began to roll down my spine. But it wasn’t all caused by heat. Some of it was definitely fear. No matter what I’d said to Azriel, no matter what I believed, I knew deep down that there was a very real possibility that this encounter would not end well for one of us.



Amaya’s hissing began to fill the back of my thoughts. She wanted to kill, wanted to draw the life of the elemental into her steel and feed on its flesh.



I shuddered. No way in hell, Amaya. This is a friend, not an enemy.



Not, she replied. Only way.



I ignored her. I flexed my fingers, took a deep breath, and said, “Tao.”



There was no response. The creature kept moving forward, its heavy steps making the ground quiver.



“Tao,” I said, louder this time.



The creature paused, then slowly turned around. It didn’t have a mouth or even a face, so, basically, it just stood there, dripping fire. I wondered what was going on within the creature, wondered if Tao had any awareness of what the elemental was doing and whether somewhere deep within the flames he still fought to regain control.



“You have to retake control, Tao. It’s trying to return to the fire that created it. You can’t let it.” Because if it did, I’d never see my friend again. I was sure of that, if nothing else.



The creature twitched. Whether it was a response to my plea, I couldn’t say. “Tao—”



The rest of the sentence was cut off as the creature raised a fist and punched. I swore and ducked, but not fast enough. The blow hit my shoulder rather than my face, melting my sweater and sending me sprawling backward.



Attack, Amaya screamed, her voice so strident, tears stung my eyes. Touch you not.



Damn it, no. I pushed to my feet, stripped off my still-smoldering sweater, and dumped it on the ground. The elemental had turned and was walking away.



I cursed and sprinted after it, looping around the left side of the creature until I was in front of it. “Damn it, Tao, listen to me—”



The creature swiped at me again. This time I was ready for it and ducked. The blow sailed over my head, but the heat of its flames was so fierce, it felt like my skin was burning. I backed away fast and kept out of fist range.



This wasn’t working. Tao wasn’t hearing me. Maybe he was gone. Maybe the creature was too strong . . . I briefly closed my eyes. No. Tao was still within that fiery form. I was sure of it. I just had to find a way to draw him back out. But how?



Last time the elemental had tried to take over, I’d physically dragged Tao into the freezer and doused him with ice—something that was impossible to do out here in the middle of nowhere.



But what if it had been as much the physical contact between us as the ice that had helped Tao get the elemental under control?



No, Azriel said, the same time as Amaya screamed, Will kill.



Fuck it, both of you. Stop telling me what I can’t do and start offering suggestions.



Azriel’s frustration rolled through my mind, as sharp as Amaya’s hissing. You can use Amaya as a shield.



How?



Flames, she said. I eat.



That will kill him, Amaya.



No. Weaken.



Azriel?



She’s right. It’ll weaken him. He paused. But it will also kill him if she goes too far.



His mental tones suggested this might not be such a bad thing. Anger rolled through me, but I ignored it. I had bigger battles to fight right now.



I stopped moving, drew my sword, and held her—point first—in front of me. Lilac flames began to roll down her sides, and her hissing became filled with anticipation.



Okay, Amaya, I said. Do what you have to do to drain his energy. But don’t kill him.



Kill not. It was somewhat begrudgingly said.



Her flames leapt from her shadowed blade, then raced across to the elemental and ran up one tree-trunk leg. Her lilac fire contrasted sharply against the red and gold flames of the elemental as she ringed the creature’s rotund belly. For several seconds nothing happened; then, as Amaya began to hum softly—almost contentedly—her steel began to vibrate and the flames around the creature’s stomach suddenly seemed less incandescent.



The creature never stopped moving, however, and the closer it got, the hotter it got, until I stood in the middle of a firestorm that tore at my hair and burned my skin. Until I felt as much a creature of fire as the one who was now only feet away from Amaya’s tip. And yet, for all that it burned, the creature’s heat didn’t destroy me, and this close, it should have. Whatever my sword was doing, it was working.



“Tao,” I screamed, more out of fear than any real need to raise my voice above the roar of the flames that swept around me. “You must get control of the elemental again.”



The creature growled—an ungodly sound that came from somewhere out of its flaming middle—and swiped at me. I didn’t move—I didn’t dare, lest I break the contact Amaya had with the elemental—but the blow never struck. It stopped inches from my ear, the heat of it singeing hair but not actually touching skin. The creature roared again, and this time, it was a sound of frustration. The vibration in Amaya’s steel grew stronger, and fingers of dullness were quickly spreading from the creature’s belly to the rest of its body.



If you’re going to touch the elemental, do so now, Azriel said, his voice barely hinting at the anger and concern I could feel within him. If Amaya drinks too much more of the creature’s power, she will kill both the creature and Tao.



Amaya, don’t, I warned.



Fun, she grumbled. You not.



I snorted softly, then, as the creature roared and took another swipe at me, raised my hand and caught the flaming paw. This time, my skin did burn, and I screamed.



Risa! Do not expect me to stand here and see you harmed—



I can, I cut in fiercely. And you will.



Closing my eyes, I gritted my teeth against the agony and the screams that pressed up my throat and gripped the fiery paw harder. For several seconds, nothing happened, and I began to wonder if Azriel was right. Maybe Tao was lost and I was burning my hand for absolutely no reason. Then, suddenly, my fingers were touching flesh rather than heat. I opened my eyes. The flames were receding—grudgingly, but retreating nevertheless—from the point where my fingers clasped Tao’s hand. His fingers twitched, then convulsed around mine, his grip fierce. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t say anything, biting my lip and blinking back tears as the flames continued to retreat, first up his arm and then across his shoulders, revealing his head and upper body.