My feet are osmium as I make my way along the path. At each turn, I shift right. I’ve made a hundred right turns without getting anywhere. I’m going up the hill as much as down, so getting back to the road sans tour guide won’t be happening.

Putting my emotions aside, I run, focusing on my progressive steps instead of my guilt-driven thoughts. I left Tally to handle whatever threat existed. Despite my lack of affection, it’s tough not to feel contrite for abandoning her.

This is why I don’t get too close to people. Not that I can actually see myself becoming emotionally attached to Tally, but I do regret putting so much unguarded compliance into my connection with the Keane family, in general, like their magical abilities can somehow protect them from the natural disaster that’s me.

When we collide, her Narcissus and Sage scent explodes around me. I skid on the snow concrete, landing against a compact path wall. Tally’s laughter echoes through the makeshift tunnel. If I wasn’t so frazzled, I’d conjure enough energy to blow her to bits. As it is, I merely lay unmoving in my awkward arrangement with my feet under my butt and my hands under my feet. Add some rope and call me Hogtied.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “You failed test one, but you nailed test two.”

I try to right myself. “Not cool, Tally.”

“Not hot, though.”

“I thought—” I clear my throat. “I was going in circles, wasn’t I?”

Tally points and laughs. “You should’ve seen your face.”

I glower at her, wishing my spark would breach the barrier for once. Sadly, it’s nothing more than a smoke puff.

“Allow me to show you,” she persists, creating a replica of my expression, complete with slack jaw and saucer eyes.

My only recourse is physical retaliation since my elemental abilities are taking a rest. I remove my shoe and hurl it at her. She dodges, of course, but as if guided by my will alone, the shoe makes a second pass, thwacking the side of her head.

“Come down here and fight me like a man,” Tally growls.

I look up as Declan descends from the sky. Tally tosses the shoe at me, eyeing him warily.

“Ryan sent me to check on you,” he explains. “He said you should’ve been back an hour ago.”

Good cop. Bad cop, Superego notes.

“How do I get out of here?” It takes considerable effort to stabilize my tone. While I want to throw a proper tantrum, I need to maintain composure until I get gone. I refuse to display that kind of weakness in front of them. With any luck, they’ll give me directions before they start in on each other. If not, I’ll be left wandering aimlessly.

“Left. Right. Left. Right,” Ryan says from behind me.

Regardless of what I think of the other two, or what I don’t think in Tally’s case, Ryan’s crawled over my carefully created barrier. I don’t want to hurt him in any way. I want him to be proud of me, encouraging my resolve to survive. Edit: I want and don’t want that simultaneously. If there ever is real danger, Ryan will be on the front line for defense and, subsequently, annihilation. The only guarantee where I’m concerned is flame-induced misfortune. I don’t want him swept up in my fire storm.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

“Tally was supposed to tell you about potential dangers you might face, as a warning.” Ryan’s gaze is apologetic. “She wasn’t supposed to scare you half to death.”

“I’m tired of the Tally Show,” I inform him.

“That’s the benefit of having my own audience.” She huffs. “They help boost my ratings, ensuring quality entertainment season after season. I have a responsibility to my viewers.”

“While Provoke the Pyro is a fun game for you, lives are at risk,” I grouse. “Exercising was effective. I can manage myself now without any added assistance from you.” I pause to give the other two some stink-eye. “From any of you.”

“It worked?” The warmth of Ryan’s relief makes me cringe. Sharing, in this instance, is not caring. I don’t want to feel the glimmer of happiness from the hope he can save me. Not when I’m good and ticked off.

You need to get gone from these creeps, Superego advises.

“I’m out.” I push past Ryan.

Declan whistles loudly. “Sheyla, wait up.”

“Uncomfortable,” I grumble.

His steps falter. “At least let me walk you home. There really are reasons you shouldn’t be alone out here.”

“Is this where you tell me young ladies shouldn’t be walking around after dark?”

“No,” he says sternly. “This is where I tell you would-be-Solathairs shouldn’t be walking around after dark.”

I take off. He falls in pace beside me. Bright side: the walk back is mostly downhill.

“So far, there have been a lot of covered cans. There were bound to be snakes popping out.”

“This is a pretty big one,” he admits. “It’s safer to give you a heads up.”

I clench my empty fists at my sides. The spark’s still sleeping, and weirdly, I miss it.

“Ryan feels if we found you this easily, others will.” His nerves are working their way up to a theatrical debut. “Especially since we’ve presented ourselves to you.”

“More Solathairs?” I roll my eyes. “I can just as easily march away from them as I’m marching away from you.”

Left. Right. Left. Right, Superego chants unhelpfully.

His sharp intake of breath has me shaking my head at his dramatics. “Sumairs,” he murmurs.

“Relatives of yours?” I ask, thankful when we finally reach the roadway. The cold air is having an entirely new and terribly unappealing effect.

“Something like that.”

“Let me guess, they’re your natural enemies.” His tension is strangling me. “Where there’s power, there’s opposition to that power. Balance is base logic.”

“You’re too smart for your own good.”

“I’m too much of a lot of things for my own good,” I complain.

“A Sumair doesn’t innately produce elemental energy but can use it.”

“A distant cousin.”

“We’re immortal,” he reiterates. “A Sumair isn’t immortal unless...”

Here it comes, Superego goads. Hold onto your shoelaces.

He finger-drums his thighs. “To continue living eternally, a Sumair requires energy.”

“Your energy.”

“Your energy,” he corrects.

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“Not exactly. You’re in transition, whereas I’ve already transitioned. My energy can’t be given unless I willingly relinquish it. Even then, the element has to align. For me, the recipient would need to be an Air Sumair.”

“I’m different how?”

“You’re in a volatile state. Your body is trying to eliminate the energy inside you, viewing it as a foreign contaminant. When your guard is down, your body instinctively pushes it out. If someone seeks that energy, your body practically shoves it at them to get it gone.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“This has seriously depleted our numbers. We’re an endangered species,” Declan whispers. “You can’t stop a Sumair like a transitioned Solathair can.”

“Why not just give them the energy? You said my body wants to get rid of it. Why fight? I thought you guys wanted me to stay human. Ryan does, anyway.”

“Giving them your essence would kill you.” Terror shoots from him into me. “They’d slurp you dry.”

As if I don’t have enough turmoil with the fate of North America resting on my faulty thermostat, Declan’s advising me some suck-happy energy vampires are coming after me, too.

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Sheyla,” he promises when we step onto my porch.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I’ve been tossing around the idea of death for years. It was only when faced with the real probability of that end I entertained the notion of living, but my life, my continued existence, means the loss of millions of people who don’t deserve that fate. Me? I deserve it, and I’ll meet it head on. Fingers crossed, the Sumairs will fill their bellies, finish me off, and wittingly save the world in one swift, hopefully painless, mutually appeasing finality. All I need is to get past my newly erected force field, courtesy of the Keane family.

As I lay in my bed, exhausted yet unable to sleep, I try to solve my most difficult problem thus far. With the Solathairs watching me like hawks, how will I expose myself to the Sumairs?