Page 31 of Sealed By Fire (The Nature Hunters Academy 2)

“Can I help you?” she asked in a soft voice.

“By all means,” Aviur muttered, “open the oven door so we can climb in.”

Nasima coughed to cover the unexpected but very needed laugh. “Excuse me,” she said as she cleared her throat. “We were hoping to speak to the high priest or priestess of this establishment.”

The woman’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a small tick in her cheek that Nasima didn’t miss. “What establishment? This isn’t a church.”

“My dear lady, no one would mistake this place for a holy house,” Aviur said as he dropped the tall, dark, and handsome act and let his true nature come forth. There was a shift in his face, and the fire that simmered behind his eyes came to the surface. Nasima could feel heat coming off his body, and she knew he was blocking the magic that was attempting to attach itself to them. Whoever was deep in the house was trying to put a spell on the three royal elementals. They obviously didn’t know who was standing on their stoop.

“Do you have a name?” the old woman asked.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Aviur purred, his voice sounding even more sinister. When the woman didn’t respond, he shrugged and said, “Or we can just call you Weird Sister number two. We met Weird Sister number one already.”

“Macbeth?” Kairi questioned as she glanced at the fire king. “Isn’t that going to get a little confusing?”

“Truly,” Nasima agreed. “If she won’t give us her name, just call her Hecate and be done with it.”

“I think that’s giving her a little too much credit,” Aviur tsked. “The name of the Greek goddess of witchcraft?” He clucked his tongue. “That won’t do.”

“What about Elphaba?” Kairi offered.

Aviur shook his head. “Too green.”

“Glenda?”

“Too good.”

“Maleficent?” The water queen tried again.

“Too long.”

Nasima sighed. The old woman was staring at them as if they’d lost their minds. Her eyes were bouncing back and forth between Aviur and Kairi as if she was watching a tennis match. “By the elements, just call her Ursula and let us move on.”

Aviur snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Perfect. Old, ugly, and tentacles to boot,” he said in a jovial voice that belied the simmering anger in his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiding any tentacles under that dress would you, Ursula?”

“Beg your pardon?” The old woman gasped.

Before Aviur could continue, Nasima spoke. “Osiris said to tell you to quit summoning his demi-lords.” She allowed the bite of cold winter air to fill her voice. ‘Ursula’ shivered and took a step back.

“I think you need to leave.” She started to close the door.

Apparently, the water queen was fed up with the act, despite her willingness to play along with Aviur and his name game, as a rush of water pushed the door open. Ursula was thrown back. Kairi walked in behind her river of power. The old woman squealed in fright, but she regained her balance and kept her feet against the cascading flood. Nasima and Auvir followed Kairi into the house. The water queen waved her hand, and the entire entryway, including Ursula, was again dry.

“How dare you enter here unbidden,” Ursula gasped. The kind grandmotherly tone was gone from her voice. It held a darkness that would have caused a grown man to flee in terror.

“I am Nasima, empress of the air,” she said as she gathered her power and allowed a small tornado to rush around them.

Kairi released her own magic, and suddenly every surface was covered in ice. “I am Kairi, queen of the water,” she said.

A flash of flames flowed over Aviur, and he smiled. “And I am Aviur. You might guess which element I control. But what’s more important, my dear Ursula, is that you and your coven are in a heap of trouble.”

The woman’s eye widened as she looked at each of them.

“What is taking so lo—” Another woman’s sharp voice came from down the hall but stopped abruptly when she entered the room. She appeared to be in her late twenties with long, dark brown hair plaited into a braid that flowed over her shoulder. She wore a black robe with a star on the upper, right chest. And on her head was an honest-to-goodness pointed hat.

“Okay, so maybe they all like clichés,” Aviur said as he glanced at Nasima.

She shrugged. “Or they simply lack creativity.”

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