The Elementals

“Okay,” I announce, and Audrey looks at me. “I’m going to lay down some rules.”

“Ah, conditions, how fun.” Owen mutters but I ignore him.

Audrey looks slightly pained, but she nods for me to go on. We had docked at port this morning, in another fancy, high-tech, secret base thing.

Also, they had normal clothes there, so I no longer looked like someone’s lost shadow. Instead, the others and I looked like average kids on the run in a t-shirts and sweatshirts, jeans, and sneakers. Everyone had picked out their respective element colors, whether they meant to or not. A tan-auburn color for Terra, green for Maple, black for Stella, grey for Steel, white for Oh’Rian, a dark maroon red for Coal, and last but hopefully not least, blue for moi.

“First,” I say, “No one goes on a mission alone.”

Audrey nods, though grudgingly.

“Second,” I start again, and then falter. I hadn’t actually thought of a second condition yet.

Thankfully, a short woman walks in, tapping Audrey on the shoulder and giving me an excuse to stop talking. They whisper quietly, and then the lady rushes out, seeming flustered. Audrey turns back to us.

“We have another assignment,” She declares. “Everybody get in the helicopter.”

Excited by the prospect of action, the others race each other out. I go to follow, but Audrey stops me.

“You’re not going.” She says, her hand out like I’m a dog she’s telling to stay.

“Why not?” I ask indignantly, trying to push past her.

She shrugs, but stays in my way. “Orders are orders.”

I go to say “not to me” but it won’t make a difference. This is a system that runs on orders. I hate orders. Owen walks past, carrying supplies, and looks at Audrey to check what’s happening. He backs out of the doorway fast as he sees our faces.

Audrey jumps at the chance. “Owen-”

“No.” he says shortly.

“Please-” Audrey starts but he shakes his head definitively. Audrey changes tactics. “Alright, I order you to watch her.” She gestures to me.

“Hey, I don’t need to be watched!” I protest and Owen chimes in. We finally agree on something.

“That’s an order,” Audrey silences our objecting and walks out of the room.

Owen and I stare daggers at each other. “So she’s a higher rank than you?” I ask. It’s usually how orders work.

He looks repulsed by the fact, but doesn’t say anything -which is answer enough.

“How far above-”

He stalks out of the room, cutting off my sarcastic inquiry. As soon as his angry steps and the systematic thrumming of the chopper blades fade away, I walk out of the room.

First, I slip out into the hallway and find the food room. After stuffing my face with cornbread and chocolate milk, I decide to explore a little.

The only places worth mentioning are the room where we get our assignments with the fancy table in the middle, some small rooms like mine where the others probably sleep, and the training room.

I also see a hallway down to a main room with some interesting looking gadgets and computers, but I have to go past the training room, where Owen is, of course. Where else would a hard-core, emotionless secret agent go when given the chance to relax? To work, obviously.

I finally get bored of wandering around the same places, and try to get by. I keep to the wall, though it doesn’t help at all, it just makes me feel more spy-like. I’m debating whether to try and go so fast he doesn’t see me, or so slow he doesn’t notice. I decide to go with the slow method, because I’m not sure I could stay quiet enough if I went fast. Carefully, taking lights steps, I creep past the door.

“Are you looking to get in trouble, or does it come naturally?”

Dang it.

I swear quietly, turning into the doorway. “I’m looking to punch something. Care to be it?”

“Audrey specifically said not to let you train.”

“Okay, follow her instructions. Are you a dog, O.J?”

I know, I know, it was mean. But I’m kind of ticked off at Audrey’s sudden control-freak-ness and it has the perfect effect. I step into the room, crossing my arms challengingly. Owen scowls at me. I walk lazily up to him and suddenly kick. He dodges instinctively and counter-attacks, and then we’re all out brawling.

“You know, Audrey doesn’t seem to think you’re obnoxious.” He says, ducking another kick.

“You know,” I start, jumping back and rolling to the side. “Rian said the same thing about you. Guess they’re both wrong.”

Owen instantly stops and grabs my hand as I try to punch him. “Rian talked about me?”

“Well, yeah, I was complaining and -wait...” I shake my arm free, putting the tone of voice and his sudden attitude change together.

“What?” He asks, on guard and I step back, a wicked grin spreading across my face.

“You like her!” I cackle in delight, and his face is priceless. “You like Oh’Rian! You like Oh’Rian!” I sing, forgetting about trying not to use her nickname.

This just made my day. “Where’s the honey moon gonna be? Area 51?” I bite my cheek, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. “Oh...” I see Owen’s murderous look and immediately dash out of the room before he can kill me.

Like the immature child I am, I tear down the hallways, chanting at the top of my lungs. My voice echoes down the empty halls as Owen chases after me. I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt. I skid around a corner and sprint down another hallway, Owen on my heels.

I don’t know why it’s so funny. I thought Owen was the usual, heartless, people-hating, cold, TV show agent type. Who knew he had a thing for Oh’Rian?

I have to slow down, because I can’t breathe, and Owen slides up next to me, snatching my shoulders.

“Don’t tell her!” He growls, which makes me laugh harder.

“Why not?” I snicker mercilessly. “She likes you back!” I’m connecting Oh’Rian’s reaction to my complaints about Owen.

I duck under his grasp and sprint away. I’m breaking down into fits of giggles, till I can barely walk straight, much less run. Maybe it’s because they’re twenty-something year old people having the same problems as me.

My hysteric laughter is cut short as I loop back around and dash down the hallway to the bigger room I originally wanted to go in. I come to a screeching halt. Stepping quickly to the side, I narrowly dodge Owen, and spring with a newfound hatred.

I step onto a table with a fancy looking computer and launch myself forward, slamming into Caelum, pinning him against the wall.

“Why are you here?” I snarl at him, all hilarity gone.

He doesn’t answer, and then I realize my arm is pressed hard against his chest so he can’t breathe. I loosen my hold, but barely, still cautious. I will the water in a flower vase to slide to me and I stick his hands to the wall with ice. It wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to do damage, but it’s better than nothing.

“Why,” I repeat, “are you here?”

“Izila,” He doesn’t fight back, which somehow gets on my nerves. “She’s going to the conference.”

“The what?” I ask, confused.

Obviously, Izila is alive, something that makes me want to throw one of the computers through the wall, and Caelum is too, which I’m not sure how I feel about. Part of me wants to throttle him, and then the other part wants to hug him because I thought I had killed him. For now though, I don’t do either.

“The international meeting. They’re talking about genetic engineering on humans.”

I have a second to process how insanely creepy that is, and then I turn to Owen, giving him a look like, do you what he’s talking about?

His face is pale. “That’s where the others went. They were supposed to protect the U.S representative against the crazy environmentalist mobs.”

My blood runs cold. I look back at Caelum and his expression is grim. Whatever Izila’s going to do, it won’t be pretty. I start to walk out of the room.

“You know how to fly a plane right?” I ask Owen.

For once, he doesn’t argue, and nods, following me. I hear ice shattering. I spin around and will the water into a bar, shoving Caelum back against the wall.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t strangle you,” I say to him, allowing the water to push harder.

“Because I know her plan?” He tries, and after a second, I let the water drop.

I hate the feeling of relief I get that he did have a good reason, because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to kill him in cold blood.

“But if I even think you’re going to do anything-” I start.

“You’ll strangle me?” he suggests, and I see a glimmer of the old Caelum.

I don’t answer and he follows me as I race out to the plane. Worry is building up inside of me. What if we’re too late?

“Izila isn’t supposed to get there until an hour from now. We have time.” Caelum says reassuringly, and I nod, assured, and then stop abruptly, remembering.

I try to ignore the tension sitting between us as we jump into the plane and Owen starts the motor. He betrayed you, I keep telling myself, the harbor incident still fresh in my mind. You can’t trust him.

But I want to trust him. I sneak a glance at Caelum. He’s staring at the floor glumly, but with a strong determination for something. He looks up at me and I avoid eye contact quickly.

I start to twitch with anxiety, tapping my foot, crossing and re-crossing my arms incessantly. I try to block out the bleak predicaments running through my mind. What if we’re too late? I shove the thought to the back of my mind.

We can’t be too late.