Elemental Thief

Chapter 7

Ridley was five years old when she discovered she was a complete freak. She'd been watching the flames in the giant fireplace of her old home, completely mesmerized. Of course, she'd known that fire was dangerous and she shouldn't touch it, but she'd held her hands close to the warmth, imagining what it would be like if it were possible to actually hold fire.

Then all of a sudden, her hands were made of fire. She was so terrified it took her several moments to realize she wasn't in pain. The flames had vanished then, leaving her hands looking normal—except for the glowing blue light that pulsed through her veins. Her parents had raced into the lounge after hearing her scream, but they didn't seem surprised when she showed them her blue hands. They explained it was magic. Magic she didn't have to pull from the elements like everyone else did. Magic that somehow existed inside her.

"The scar behind your ear is just a scar," her mother told her. "There's no amulet embedded beneath your skin." That explanation hadn't done much to help Ridley's fear. Even at age five she'd known she was supposed to be protected from outside magical influence. With no arxium implant, anyone could do anything to her, couldn't they?

Dad had quickly added that she was protected by her own magic. A special doctor had told them this when Ridley was born. Back then, before the Cataclysm, magic hadn't been outlawed yet, but her parents insisted she keep her magic a secret. She wasn't like other people, and they didn't want anyone taking her away and experimenting on her. She'd done her best to obey them, and the only time someone had ever come close to finding out was when she'd accidentally used her own magic at a friend's house. Fortunately, no one had seen her glowing blue skin.

At school, she learned to pull magic from the elements the same way everyone else did. She memorized the movements for basic conjurations exactly the way her teacher taught her. But sometimes, when she was alone at home, she didn't bother pulling. She used her own magic along with the required hand and finger motions to pick up the TV remote or heat the kettle. It was just easier.

Then the Cataclysm happened. Mom and millions of other people died. And almost overnight, magic-use became a forbidden practice. The law for the second arxium implant was put in place, and scanner drones swarmed the air above the streets. Dad took both implants that should have been embedded beneath Ridley's skin—the new AI2, and the AI1 they'd secretly removed when she was barely days old and her magic was reacting horribly to the arxium—and rolled each into a tiny cylinder so they could slide onto a chain. He put the chain around Ridley's neck and told her never to take it off. He also told her never to use her magic ever again, but his warning wasn't necessary. She knew what had killed her mother. She knew what had ripped her world out from beneath her feet.

Magic. It was a wild, destructive thing, and back then, she'd hated it with an intensity that threatened to erupt into actual flames. So she pushed it deep down within her, and it didn't surface again until two years later. That was the day things changed again.

That was the day she became a thief.

* * *

Still appearing to be made of air, Ridley crossed the foyer of Aura Tower. No one looked in her direction as she exited through the grand entranceway. It seemed darker outside than when she'd entered Aura Tower, which probably meant another storm was getting ready to drop a buttload of rain on the city. She glanced up at the threatening clouds and the white lightning and blue magic flickering within them. If she looked hard enough, she could just make out some of the panels hovering way above the city beneath the clouds. Close enough together that combined, they would reflect most magic away, but far enough apart to allow sunlight to shine through—on the rare occasion when the clouds parted.