Page 59 of Damned and Broken Gods
I approached him. “Garrit?”
He turned to me. “Yes?”
“We’re short a drohi, for Vick. The young dark-haired guy?”
“Ah, yes, I did notice a discrepancy in numbers.”
“He doesn’t have a drohi.” I explained the situation as concisely as possible. “So you see, there is no guarantee that any drohi will be free to catch him, unless…” I tipped my head to the side, lifting one shoulder.
His eyes twinkled. “Does that work on Araz?”
My eyes went wide. “What?”
He blinked, his expression smoothing out. “Never mind. As much as I would love to help you, it is against the rules. I cannot. I’m sorry for your friend.”
He said it as if Vick was already doomed. I couldn’t let that happen. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out.”
I hurried back to my friends. “Okay, so let’s go over the plan to make sure Vick is covered.”
“Three drohi are watching him as well as us. It will be fine,” Joe said.
“And Araz.” I smiled at Vick. “He’s on board.”
I looked over at Bina, Alia, and Elata, standing a little to one side but within earshot. They knew the situation with Vick, but none of them had offered assistance.
I caught Bina’s eye. “It wouldn’t hurt you to offer to help.”
Her lip curled. “If you want to be taken in by his lies, then so be it, but we know better.” Her voice rose to counter the howl of the wind. “He’s a coward who caused his drohi’s death, and we will not take any risks for him.”
“The Vayujaari are here!” Garrit called out. “Get in a line. Now.”
Above us, the thunderbirds climbed higher, still circling, the figures on their backs nothing but faceless shadows. And on the horizon frothed a storm, clawing and rolling toward us.
Was that the Vayujaari?
“Move!” Garrit ordered. “Side by side. They are not the most patient of creatures, and they do not wish to be here.”
We scrambled to get into a line, and I ended up between Dharma and Vick.
The air felt thinner, each breath harder. Shit, shit, shit. I looked up at the thunderbirds, desperately searching for Araz.
“Fuck!” Dharma cried. “Look at them!”
The storm fractured into figures running in the air. Figures made of cloud and mist, threaded with lightning and seeping mist and fog. The scent of ozone spiked, and the air crackled, snapping at my skin, shocking it so that every hair quivered and tugged.
The wind’s howl became a unified voice. “By wind, wave, root, and flame, with lightning’s vow and frost’s claim, we answer the call of the soul that sings the song we remember.”
Seven figures made of ether landed on the bridge between us and Garrit, bringing a cold mist with them. It swirled around their calves and spiraled up in tendrils to twine up their arms and around their necks.
Seven powerfully built elementals stood before us—three males and three females. All wore similar outfits: brown pants tucked into boots and gray shirts that both fit their upper bodies but flared out and flowed at the hips. Their height and forms were similar. But their coloring was slightly different. One woman had silvery skin and eyes like mercury, another had pale blue skin and eyes so pale they looked white, while the third woman had green hair and a mossy gaze. The men wereslightly taller and bulkier. One had hair like fire and glowing golden eyes; the other was pale, his lips dark blue, his eyes like the first bite of frost, and standing beside him was a male with pearlescent skin and eyes like green fire. The last had flowing locks of blue and green and twin iridescent pools for eyes.
I caught the scent of a storm followed by the sweet aroma of a summer breeze, but in the next moment came the cold, sharp scent of a winter’s day chased quickly by the balmy heat of the peak of summer.
The mist rolled toward us, and the scents surrounded us. The woman with the mercury eyes and silvery skin stepped forward, her silver gaze burning a path down the line we’d formed.
“You will be chosen by echo,” she said. “But there is no promise that an echo will hold.” She turned her head to the side, her gaze flicking back to her companions. “Make your choices.”
The guy with the hair like flames stepped forward first. He walked over to Dharma, bringing the air of summer and the smell of life at its peak with him. “I am Jaantor of the Emberheart, blaze without chain. If your passion is true, we will ignite the skies; if not, then your name will die in ash.”
