South of Redemption

By S.M. Winter

Tabitha's world keeps expanding beyond her wildest imaginations. When she first walks into her City she is blown away by the sheer numbers of people. Her people. Children of Air. People cut off from the Element for something their forefathers did one hundred years ago. Struggling with her invisible scars, Tabitha has a hard time coping with the new responsibility bestowed upon her. When the leader of the Air City attempts to undermine her authority, she knows it's time to step up and stop being a child.

With new friends come new dangers and the fight for time as she tries to find the others before it's too late. When a new Elemental is Chosen, she knows she wasn't fast enough. She only has one more chance to save the other. Will she get there in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.M. Winter
• Release date: May 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310479984

S.M. Winter

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South of Redemption

Copyright 2016 S.M. Winter

Published by S.M. Winter at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

About S.M. Winter

Other Books by S.M. Winter

Buy Your Own Elemental Key

Connect With the Author

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my best friend and sister, Aimee. Without her support this series would not exist. Thank you for always being an unflagging sounding board. You listen to all my good, bad, and horrid ideas. Also, thank you for reading the scenes you think are bad in that annoying sing-song voice. It puts things into perspective.

Aimee is also my editor and artisan behind the physical Elemental Keys. I don’t know anyone else who would have the patience to deal with my temperament.

Speaking of dealing with my temperament, I would also like to thank my husband Andrew and my Beta Readers, who gave no holds-barred feedback, even if it did crush my hopes and dreams. I love you all, thank you for your frightening honesty, again. Especially Tim. You’re a giant nerd and I love it. Even if you added a couple kicks while I was down. You challenged my ideas in the best way possible and helped me create a better story because of it.

Last I would like to thank the all of the readers. Without you, I wouldn’t be here.

Thank you.

I crouched low in the bushes as I watched the building gone yellow from decay. It sat crumbling from neglect on a field surrounded by dense brush and dark forest. Not much lived in these woods anymore. As the sun rose up behind it, long shadows and bright lights were thrown across the field.

I chose dawn for a reason. My men were stronger when the sun was just coming up, fresh and new. We would also be catching those inside off guard. It suited my purpose to do so. A rescue mission was on the agenda today and I was not going home empty handed. They had grown comfortable the last two years, so sure of themselves and of their captive. They had no idea that the game had changed. That she had changed it.

I signaled to my Sergeant who silently moved next to me and crouched down. Behind us was more than half of my army. Our target was an old abandoned mental hospital, nestled in a forgotten area of Washington State. The plans had been easy enough to locate so the interior was an open book to us. Who or what lay inside, and how many, was the hard part. Without an Air presence that was difficult to know exactly.

The floor plans to the asylum lay open on the ground and I indicated a direct assault on the front entrance. The building was a hollow square, bisected by a fifth wing which would have been the administrative portion when it was still operational. Two large courtyards lay within the walls, which meant there were too many entrances and exits. Too many unknowns. The best plan would be to draw their forces out and fight on the field rather than play cloak and dagger inside. We would set fires at certain exits so that all but two doors were blocked. That way we would only be fighting on two fronts, which would make it easier to slip in and find her.

I indicated the plan by using signals and pointing to the map. My Sergeant nodded and melted back into the darkness of the forest. This wasn’t news, we’d been discussing the strategy for a week now. I studied the plans a bit longer and nodded to myself. It would work. It had to.

Two years we’d been searching. Since the moment I was Chosen I knew I had to find her. Today would be her last day of confinement. The Elements had Chosen me to embody Fire and I had risen passionately to the occasion.

I ran a hand over the stubble on my face and through my short dark hair. The sun had risen even further, highlighting the disuse of the property. As soon as I’d been able to feel her again I’d had men watching the building. Elementals are connected in a way that no human will ever experience. We can feel each other’s locations and, in some cases, their emotions as they run high. Tabitha had been captured at the exact moment I’d been Chosen. I had felt her distress and then the link had been severed. I’d worried that she had succumbed to the Void but when no Air Elemental was Chosen, that left only one answer: she’d been captured and they had found a way to suppress the link to her Element.

So I’d done my duty to my City, Dóiteán. I’d contacted the others and put together my army. Then we’d trained and searched. We followed every lead, which started with a tornado made of fire and the dead Elemental found nearby. I’d never given up hope, so when I felt a tug a couple weeks ago I knew it was her. She was too smart to let them contain her forever.

A feral smile gleamed as I continued to watch the field. I noted several of my recruits moving agilely through the tall grass toward their assigned locations. They reached the walls simultaneously, then pressed against them to wait. When no alarm sounded, they moved again.

As the smoke began to rise at the entrances, the shrill peal of a bell sang into the otherwise silent morning. I stood, turning toward the dark forest and the hidden army there. Shrieks rose up behind me as the men closest to the walls began the assault. The roar of their answering fire split the air and I could feel the heat on the back of my neck.

For Dóiteán! I cried, and the response was the same.

For Dóiteán!

I turned back toward the old yellow building and charged the field. War cries followed as I added silently to myself. For Tabitha.

Smoky fog crawled across the muddy field. Shadowy figures stood just out of my line of visibility and moved to circle me. I felt the earth shift just before I saw a shadow move quickly through the thick curtain of mist. Drops of water gathered where the wet fog touched. I smiled, welcoming the challenge and distraction of a fight.

I shielded my mind from any possible psychic breaches and focused on creating a mental barrier, as if there was a wall around me. It was something I had been practicing for what seemed like an eternity. After months of practice, the wall was steel. The only problem with creating that barrier is that when shielded it is nearly impossible to influence my element. Closing my eyes, I listened.

Watch out!

A wet squish to my left had me lunging to the side as something whistled by. And so I stood, waiting for any other sound. My legs began to quiver from holding the same stance. Opening my eyes, I looked around and saw that the shadowy figures had moved on. Crouching, I moved as silently as possible through the muddy ground. As I passed by a puddle a hand shot from the ground and grabbed my ankle. Yelping, I fell and rolled to the side. My attacker burst from the ground, and would have landed straight on top of me if I hadn’t continued to roll. A solid punch had his fist sinking so deep in what had just been solid earth that he struggled to pull it out of the sucking mud.

Get up.

I rolled to my stomach and gained my knees, but not quickly enough. He was already right on top of me. He placed pressure on my back and I was pinned.

Dead, he said. Then he stepped off and eased back a few feet.

I woke panting.

Time is abstract. When you do nothing - or when you are forced to do nothing but stare at walls, eat, and use the restroom - trivial things like time can take on a fluidity. One day you can be staring at the wall and the next you are staring at the ceiling, seemingly without moving. Food comes, empty plates leave, nothing breaks the monotony. So you practice the things you know.

Though it was just a dream, I knew that I needed to improve my fighting skills and my mental protections every day. I’d lost count of how long I’d been kept here. The only reason I knew the fighting was just a dream was that I always woke the same as when I’d gone to sleep. One time I found dirt under my nails, but I hadn’t been sure if it was there before or not.

You bring something back, Good or Bad, his voice whispered through my head. I missed him. Thinking of him reminded me that projecting was different from dreaming. If I was projecting I would be bringing something back with me, and all I’ve got is dirty fingernails.

It was torture. I wasn’t even allowed a book. How had it come to this? My faith was slipping. The certainty that someone was coming for me was fading quickly. How long had I been in here? The same four walls surrounded me. In the beginning I had a tiny barred window. When they’d found me staring out into the yard at the plants growing outside I had been moved. The window had been too stimulating, I’d been told. Perhaps when I was better I could earn the privilege back. I was uncertain how they expected me to get better when no one came to see me anymore. No doctors. No nurses. The only interaction I had was with the plates that came and went through a tiny trap door, and the flickering fluorescent lights that were embedded in the ceiling. I couldn’t even count the days by sunlight anymore. I was completely cut off.

I laid back on the tiny wire framed cot shoved unceremoniously in the corner of the ten by ten room. I knew it was ten by ten because I paced it constantly. I also knew that there were five-hundred-seventy-six divots in the ceiling, one-hundred rubber tiles on the ground, fifty-eight breaks on the padded walls, one tiny tank-less toilet with a recessed button on the side of the bowl and I had decided the color of the room was definitely eggshell. I was willing to defend my opinion to anyone who would talk to me. Unfortunately, the only people that wanted to talk to me were in my head and they tended to be just as passionate about their opinions.

How had I gotten here? I had graduated from high school at twelve-years-old. I earned my PhD by nineteen. I closed my eyes. This had all started because of my sister. She was killed in a hit and run. I’d been weak and had thrown myself into traffic.

No, a fading voice reminded me. You chose life. You found magic.

The problem was that this voice was getting easier to disregard. Had I been delusional? I hadn’t been able to influence my Element since I woke at the asylum. That in itself was making me doubt my entire experience. I walked myself through the events of that time again. It played like a movie.

My life had been simple, if not easy. I’d grown up with my baffled, and sometimes borderline abusive, parents and my loving older sister. She had been my driving force during a lot of my formative years. She was my biggest supporter when I’d graduated high school at twelve, a full year before she did. She had been there when I’d graduated from Yale and pursued my Doctorate. She had been the one to throw me a party when I’d received my PhD by nineteen. She had provided me with two beautiful nephews and the family I’d always wanted. Then she’d been ripped away. That was when things began to get weird.

While I was grieving I’d briefly played with the idea of killing myself. Of course I’d decided firmly against it, but then I’d been pushed into traffic and time had stopped. Laughable right? I’d been essentially kidnapped and taken to a floating island. Hysterical. I’d learned that magic was real, at least to an extent. Doubtful. I had found love, hadn’t I? Unlikely. This was one of the things that made my chest hurt the most. Remembering the way he’d made me feel, the kisses we’d shared.

Alexandar. I sighed, my throat felt raw and it was hard to swallow. Where was he now? He’d made me believe, so where was he? He was the entire reason for my unrelenting belief in magic.

The clanging that preceded my meal’s arrival startled me, shattering my thoughts into a million pieces. I wasn’t hungry but I’d been eating out of habit. The tiny swinging metal door creaked back and forth until its movement stilled. I moved slowly and sat up. When I moved my legs to the cold rubber floor I retrieved the hard plastic plate and sat back on the cot to peruse my fare.

A brown lump with a heavy dressing of ketchup sat as the main entree. Sad, wilted brown leaves stood as the vegetables, and a poor excuse of an overly sugared, syrupy pear half, the fruit. If I could gag, I would have. Using my hands, I poked at the meat colored lump and it jiggled revoltingly. I stuck out my lip and wished for the hospital food I had turned my nose up at in what seemed like another lifetime.

The smell of the mystery food made my stomach clench. It was the stench of weeks old chicken gone sour. I picked up the soft, round plastic card they gave me in lieu of utensils. Using my thumb, I folded it to use like a shovel. As soon as the plastic pierced the fleshy mound and I lifted the scoop, my stomach revolted. The aroma was worse up close. I let the shovel drop with a splat back on the plate. My hands were shaking. I was just about to throw the tray across the room, damn the consequences, when something in the splattered lump caught my eye. A razor blade.

I took it carefully between my thumb and forefinger. It was the size of an exacto-knife, small enough that if I hadn’t been paying attention it would have at least cut my mouth. I shuddered. How could someone let this happen? It was bad enough that the food was nearly inedible, why would they want me to hurt myself? Unless that was the point. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. They wanted me to kill myself. I was embarrassed to admit that it seemed like a great idea. A vacation. An escape. The dark abyss of oblivion in this moment was preferable to the conditions I was currently living. I shook my head and set the blade back on the tray with shaking hands.

I took the tray and put it down carefully, getting as close as I dared. I picked through the mess to see if they put anything else in the food. Lying in the goop was part of a crushed pill. It was tiny, perhaps an eighth of a normal sized headache pill. I laughed.

They’ve been drugging the food. Of course they had. I felt stupid. This should have occurred to me long ago. I shoved the tray away and hung my head between my knees, breathing deeply. No doubt that was why I’d had a hard time concentrating. Why when I reached for the Air around me, my Element slipped through my fingers like a bar of wet soap. I felt... relieved. It looked like I wasn’t going to be eating for a few days to test this theory.

I lifted my head as a thought occurred to me. I needed to hide the food. I frowned, looking around the room at my lack of hiding places. I did have a toilet and that seemed the best route at the moment. I stood, picked up the tray and walked toward the stainless steel bowl. None of it came apart, I’d tried. The food hit the water with a satisfying plop. I bit my lip and pushed the recessed button on its side, watching it swirl downward. I walked back to the door and set the now empty tray next to the flap, then sat on the bed. My stomach grumbled at the lack of nourishment and I sighed. It was going to be a long few days. I carefully washed the tiny blade as well and set it on the tray, then placed everything back near the metal door so it could be taken away. The message: Today was not the day.

Over the next few days I flushed all the food that was given to me. I also dumped the water they put on the tray in case they had drugged that as well. By the second day my stomach was cramping painfully and I was deathly thirsty. I was desperate enough to drink water from the toilet, which made me sick, but that also could have been the withdrawal from the drug. I shivered constantly and the voices in my head got worse. I couldn’t sleep, which seemed to be the only relief for this self-imposed torture. I argued with myself whether this was worth it.

The third day yielded some results that strengthened my resolve. I was able to touch my Element. I breathed deep and felt the Air around me shudder. I almost started crying with the joy that raced through me. I wasn’t crazy. I laughed aloud and hugged myself. I closed my eyes and felt the rippling tug of three different directions.

Imagine being sat in the middle of a circle and you had three people tied to your waist by strings. When fully extended, the string could be plucked at either end and you would feel the echoing ripple or tug. That was what it was like to finally feel my friends again. Only one string was answering my search. Two of them felt flaccid, like the string wasn’t taut. It was confusing, but perhaps that was what it had felt like when I’d been drugged. So what was happening to the other two, were they drugged as well? Were they suffering the same as I was? I hoped not.

I lay back on the cot and closed my eyes, focusing on the answering ripple. It gave me the hope that I was looking for to get through even more days without food. I breathed deep and let the time pass me by. When my next meal arrived I stood to pick up the tray but it was empty except for a toy mallard wearing a cowboy hat. Frowning, I crouched and picked up the toy. Squeezing it revealed a wheezing quack. Turning it upside down, it had the word "duck" written on the bottom. My frown deepened. A rumble from the door had me skittering backward as the door exploded inward.

I coughed and struggled to breathe through the smoke. My eyes burned with the acrid stench that now permeated the room. I patted at my hair as I saw some of the ends burn bright for just a moment. Then I was being lifted from the floor, still clutching the duck to my chest, my arms went limp and it fell from my grasp. The person began to run with me cradled close in his arms. My heart stuttered. Could it be? Was he finally here?

When my eyes cleared and the coughing subsided I was finally able to see who was carrying me and my jaw dropped. His face sent me reeling back to a time when Alexandar and I had gone to a dance club for a short amount of time to blow off some steam. It was an act that had turned out to be a mistake. A man there had joined in a fight and dropped a bomb, telling me that he would marry me some day, and that he would be joining the Elementals soon. His prophecy had turned out to be accurate in the respect that someone had died soon after. We had known that everyday there was a high risk of losing our lives. I had feared for Alexandar’s life. Was he still alive? The Travelyr. My mind flew in a million different directions. How was this possible? I watched as he held me with one hand and used the other to blow a door off its hinges with fire. Chauncy. I closed my eyes again as a new wave of grief washed over me. He was gone. He was really gone. I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. I would have told the Travelyr to put me down but I wasn’t sure I could walk on my own.

For a moment it seemed odd that we were running unopposed. We burst through a final set of double doors and I realized there was a battle going on around the outside of the building. My tired eyes couldn’t process more than a blur, but I got the impression that it was not in good repair. Bright flashes and screeching surrounded us as he ran.

Fire users seemed to be everywhere. There had to be at least fifty people that I could see, fire shooting from their hands as they fought what looked like distorted humans. Doppelgangers, as I had learned they were called. They were creatures that could take any form they wanted, but there was always some sort of tell. A few of them had let their true forms show and were fighting for all they were worth, their nauseating tan rubber skin shining in the sunlight as they morphed into different shapes. I shuddered. The strong arms that held me squeezed in support.

The man skidded to a halt and tossed me through the air. I extended my arms expecting to hit the ground hard, but was caught by another set of arms. This set I did not recognize.

Get her out of here! The travelyr yelled at the man now holding me.

I wondered idly if this man was also a travelyr or gypsy as Alexandar had called them.

Yes, sir! The world revolved around me as he turned and I was being carried away from the battle.

Wait! I called over the man’s shoulder as he ran. What’s your name?

I had this desperate need to know who this mysterious person was.

Garridyn, he tossed over his shoulder as he disappeared out of sight.

Garridyn, I whispered to myself. I looked up to the person holding me and he grinned cheekily with a wink before he began running with me in his arms.

I was astonished at how easily he could run a long distance while cradling me. Exhaustion began to tax the small amount of energy I had and I fell asleep before we found our destination.

The second she was