Elemental Thief

Chapter 8

Jude Madson had been mayor of Lumina City for almost three years. His son Lawrence—a snotty rich kid the same as all the other snotty rich kids—graduated a few years ahead of Ridley at Wallace Academy. He showed up on tabloid covers every now and then, usually striding confidently into one of Lumina City's glamorous night clubs with some celebrity on his arm, or sitting astride one of his vintage motorcycles. Or, most recently, reclining at ease at the city's most expensive restaurant after surviving an attempt on his life. Ridley never opened any of the tabloids, so she had no idea what Lawrence actually did with his life these days—aside from fleeing dodgy alleys in unsavory parts of the city. That, she decided, would have made a great tabloid cover if she'd managed to capture it on her commscreen's camera. But she hadn't, which was why she needed to do some investigating on her own.

And so, several hours after confronting Archer—and after sending a message to Dad to tell him she might be late for dinner—Ridley found herself outside the imposing front gate of the Madsons' home. They lived on one of the largest properties near the edge of the city, alongside the Silvin River. Beyond the trees on the other side of the river, the orchards and farmlands began. And beyond that, of course, was the wall. The mayor had an apartment in the city center as well, but Ridley knew his family didn't spend much time there. Lawrence had always liked to boast about his large riverside home, the closest thing one could get to a country estate these days.

Rain pattered onto the road around her, but Ridley couldn't feel it. She was wrapped in magic made of air, and the effect was that the rain seemed to fall through her. It was a strange concept, but she'd long since stopped trying to make sense of her freakish power. Wasn't that part of what made it magic? The fact that it didn't make sense? Wasn't that why so many people throughout the ages had argued against its use as an energy source?

She breathed in—savoring the scent of wet earth that was so rare in most parts of the city—and let the breeze carry her up and over the gate. That was the great thing about using air to conceal herself: she could move wherever it moved. On the other side of the gate, the air carried her past the guardhouse and along the driveway toward the stately home. Then up and up and through an open window on the second story. It was actually surprisingly easy. She'd expected the most protected man in the city to have a home that was harder to break into.

She landed in a bathroom. Fluffy white towels hung over rails, and the jetted bath seemed big enough to fill Ridley's entire bedroom. She left the bathroom behind and moved into a passageway. Instead of letting herself become visible again, she clung tightly to her magic. The house should be empty—she'd waited until a sleek black car left the property, carrying both the mayor and his son—but she didn't know if an alarm system would be triggered if she let herself materialize, or if hidden cameras were installed somewhere. The idea of getting caught here seemed even worse than getting caught at the Davenports' place. This was the mayor's house, after all. Besides, she'd spent most of the afternoon at home finding out where he lived and planning how to get there, so she wasn't tired yet from overuse of magic. May as well stay hidden, she thought to herself.

She moved through the various rooms upstairs until eventually finding the bedroom that must belong to Lawrence. Framed motorcycle posters decorated the walls, a bookshelf displayed the small trophy he'd won at a public speaking competition, and the open doors to the walk-in closet revealed men's gym shoes on the floor and a few items of clothing beside them. Now all Ridley had to do was hide one of the two small listening devices currently residing in her back pocket. She'd met Ezra in a cinema just before coming here and swapped them for a pair of stolen earrings she hadn't yet given him. She reached behind her, but with hands that seemed to be made of air—and a pocket that didn't seem to exist either—it proved impossible to get hold of one of the listening devices.