Free Broken Elements by Mia Marshall Page A

he didn’t budge. “Now,” I insisted. I couldn’t afford this. With each passing moment, the fire grew more intense. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned and walked back through the dining room. I had to assume he was leaving through the back door. Not even a minute had passed since we’d discovered the fire, and I hoped our conversation hadn’t just cost him his living room.
    Taking a deep breath, I found my fear and locked it away in a distant part of my mind. Later, it could have free rein, but right now I needed no distractions. I called the magic that rested in my very core to the surface, feeling it spread throughout my body and fill up every cell. My skin started to vibrate, the power clinging to each pore. I waited until the sensation intensified, until I felt all my humanity slip away and I was nothing but pure magic.
    I hadn’t been wrong when yelling at Mac. The fire was rapidly eating every molecule of oxygen in the room, taking the last bit of humidity with it. It wasn’t going to be enough. I guided the magic through the house, sending some of it backwards to the dining room, the rest upstairs to the bedrooms and even higher to the loft above. Splitting the magic required further concentration. I tried to take another calming breath, but the fire had filled the room with enough smoke that I ended up coughing instead. My concentration dimmed, and I felt a long moment of panic as the fire climbed higher.
    This was my nightmare brought to life, a living, burning reminder of my utter uselessness and the knowledge that I wasn’t truly in control. I indulged the panic, longer than I wanted, before I remembered this wasn’t a dream, and this wasn’t some figment of my imagination.
    This was the result of a firebomb. Someone had deliberately set the fire, had tried to hurt or even kill us, and I was not letting the bastard win. I might have a few neuroses to work through, but I was also competitive as hell, and I was damn sure going to use that. I refused to be afraid or panicked. I refused to even be angry. Suddenly, my focus returned, sharp and pure. I became nothing but the magic.
    The fire continued to grow, now blackening the walls and reaching for the ceiling. I closed my eyes, blocking out the fire until I could only feel the magic as it found every cool particle of water in the house. It went willingly, happy to find the element from which it was born, so many millennia ago. Gently, I attached the magic to the water molecules. I waited just a moment, letting the union settle, then gave a tug.
    Eagerly, it rushed downstairs, from the loft to the second floor and then down the staircase, picking up more water as it flew ecstatically through the air. The magic reached me as a wall of water. I grabbed it and pushed, directing it toward the charred sofa, putting the fire out at its source. Water met fire with a hiss, but the fire surrendered, unable to defeat the powerful wave crashing over it.
    It wasn’t enough. The source of the fire was eliminated, but it had already spread too far. The flames had consumed all the moisture in the room, so I couldn’t simply make another go. I was running out of time. Soon, the flames would reach the ceiling, and there was nothing I could do against a ceiling collapse. Nothing except get crushed and die, that is.
    I still had the magic I’d moved into the dining room, and I sent the rest in to join it. I was losing oxygen rapidly. I crouched down, desperate to get below the smoke. This was my last chance. If this didn’t work, I would need to abandon the house to the fire. With no other options, I performed the elemental equivalent of a Hail Mary, asking the magic to find any water it could. Its nature is to find and attach to water, so I didn’t worry about that. I only worried that there wasn’t enough water left in the house to put out the flames.
    When I felt the power settle, I knew it had joined to as many molecules as possible. On my hands and knees, coughing, I