Outback Spirit Read online

  “The colour?” she asked. “I don’t know. I liked the raw shape of it.”

  “Hmm,” he mused, turning the opal this way and that, “you’ve got a good eye.”

  Eloise snorted and held out her hand.

  “What?”

  “It seems like cheating.”

  Kyne shook his head. “It’s not an unnatural advantage. It’s who you are.”

  She wiggled her fingers. “Can I have it back?”

  He closed his hand around the opal. “You don’t seem happy.”

  “I don’t know how to feel.”

  “Why?”

  She was quiet for a moment, then she murmured, “Why should I be good at it after everything I’ve done?”

  Kyne frowned as the opal hummed against his skin. “You think you don’t deserve it?”

  Eloise lowered her gaze. “Why should I?”

  “We can’t define ourselves by our mistakes,” he told her.

  He snatched up her hand before she could pull away. This time, he could feel her power as it reached out to grab him, but it fell short when it sensed who he was. The opal pressed between their palms and she looked up at him, her cheeks red as beetroot.

  “Tonight,” he said. “You and me, okay?”

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  “I’ll come find you.”

  After dinner that night, Eloise walked the length of Solace, exploring the hidden corners of the little outback town she hadn’t found yet.

  Passing the water tower and windmill, she saw it was in disrepair. Rust had taken over the structure, leaving holes in the tank—it’d been a long time since it’d held water and the windmill blades had turned.

  A tall stone obelisk rose out of the lengthening shadows beyond the tower, the monument proclaiming the date Solace was founded—1852. Past this was a small cemetery crammed full of the graves of settlers and miners alike.

  Returning to the boab tree, Eloise looked up at it. There wasn’t much to see in a place like Solace, though the barren ground seemed to hold forgotten stories by the bucket full. How many mines lay hidden in the scrub was another mystery.

  One thing Eloise had come to notice was how still the air was. She rarely felt a breeze, and when she did, it was hot like the inside of an oven, but the sunsets were a rainbow of burnt umber, midnight blue, purple, pink, red ochre, orange tango…and changed so quickly there were hues she didn’t have time to see, let alone contemplate.

  The sound of boots made her turn, and her heart did a little flutter when she saw Kyne approach.

  “Impressive, huh?” He looked up at the tree. “Biggest boab I ever saw.”

  “Sure is.” She shivered and buried her hands into the sleeves of her shirt.

  “Cold?”

  “A little. The weather is so extreme here.”

  “At night, the chill can sap the heat right out of you if you’re not careful, and it gets hot as hell in summer,” Kyne told her. “But when the rains come, it cools off the dry. Seeing a storm race across the outback hundreds of kilometres away is something else…not so much when it’s on top of you.”

  Eloise imagined angry clouds gathered across the horizon, the sun lighting them a deep bluish-black against the impossible blue. Then the rumbling thunder and rain-streaked sky as they brought life to the otherwise dry, unforgiving outback.

  “Careful,” Kyne said, bringing her back to the present. “I see you’ve got a vivid imagination.”

  She blinked and looked up at the sky where clouds had begun to gather, blotting out the first stars of the night and streaking over the bright, full moon.

  “Huh?” she muttered. “Did I…?”

  “We can only manipulate what’s there,” he replied. “But yeah…you gathered them.”

  “I didn’t even realise…” Her cheeks heated and she was glad it was almost dark. “Is it really that easy?”

  “Being an elemental is all instinct. Half of the battle is understanding the difference between a simple thought and what you did just there.”

  “You make it sound so easy.” Eloise stared up at the moon and shivered. It was big and silver, a perfect sphere. “I— Wait.” She pointed to the sky. “The moon. Wally…”

  “Don’t worry,” Kyne said. “Wally locks himself up in an old, reinforced mine.” He pointed back towards the garage. “It’s hidden out in the scrub.”

  “But—”

  “He’s been a werewolf most of his life, Eloise,” he interrupted. “He’s never gotten out in all the years I’ve been mining out here. Besides, have you ever seen a canine climb a vertical ladder?”

  Thinking of the scrap of rickety metal she’d scaled in Black Hole Mine, she shook her head. If he wasn’t worried, then perhaps it was wise to believe him.

  “So how do I tell the difference between my power and my thoughts?” she asked. “Vera said I should meditate, but…” She sighed. “I don’t know about that.”

  Kyne shrugged. “Vera has good intentions, and she’s not wrong, but you’ll be meditating your entire life before you find anything. Anyway, you’re already doing it, and it’s more than those clouds and the rock in the mine.”

  Eloise didn’t seem convinced. “How do you figure that?”

  “The way you polish opal. That’s your power guiding you. It tells your hand where to cut, where to press on the grinder, and when to stop. It’s why you rise with the sun and bury your toes in the earth. It’s why you feel a sense of peace in nature. It’s why you avoid the city.”

  She scowled. “How do you know?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  Her lips thinned and she shook her head. “No.”

  “Eloise, you’re not going to have a big moment with your power because it’s always been with you. You’ve always been like this. What seems normal is normal…for an elemental. There isn’t fireworks or fireballs. You just are.”

  “But when you lifted the rock off us in your mine, your eyes…” she trailed off, feeling silly for even asking.

  “That only happens on special occasions,” he told her with a grin. “It took a lot to lift that rock and I had to kick it into overdrive.”

  They sat underneath the boab as night fell, Eloise thinking about everything Kyne had told her. Something wasn’t clicking. Her power still seemed beyond her reach like some abstract idea she couldn’t grab hold of. It wasn’t like Vera’s magic where she conjured purple light or brewed potions and wrote spells. It wasn’t like Drew, who could change into a dingo, or Wally, who turned with the moon. Even Hardy, whose tangible senses were enhanced and his life extended—all amazing things despite the drawbacks.

  There was no folklore about elementals. They didn’t make TV shows or movies about them. They were unknown, just as her connection to them was.

  Finally, she asked, “What makes us different from full elementals?”

  “Emotion,” Kyne replied. “Humans can love, hate, and everything in between. Nature doesn’t discriminate or care, it just is. That’s what an elemental is at their core.”

  Eloise scowled. It was yet another thing to dislike the elementals for, but it was the paradox of her existence. How could something not care for its child?

  “Not only that,” Kyne continued, “it’s our forms as well. We’re human on the surface, but a true elemental can shift and change with the currents of nature. They are part of the rocks, the trees, the wind, and the rain. They are part of the fire that sweeps across the land. They shape the opal I dig out of the ground. Nature thrives wherever their footsteps fall.”

  “And we’re the blight that brings it all to ruin,” she murmured. “Humans consume; they pollute, squabble, and destroy.” No wonder they cast us out, she thought. “Perhaps we’re the bridge that can begin to heal it all.”

  Kyne snorted, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t seem to believe it.

  “Here,” he said, handing her an egg-shaped rock. “Take this.”

  “A rock?” she asked with a frown. “What am I supposed to do with th
is? Turn it into gold?”

  Kyne chuckled and pressed it into her hand. “No. We’re not that powerful. We can only manipulate what’s there, remember?” He closed her fingers around the stone. “This rock is full of fine minerals and metals. They could be iron, quartz, sand, lime, and silica. Think about where we are and what we mine out here. It could be a crystal geode, boulder opal, or a hunk of metal.”

  She held the stone close. “How do I know which?”

  “That’s your homework. Figure it out, then bring it back.”

  “How…”

  “You’ve got all the tools you need,” he told her. “This bit you have to do on your own.”

  Eloise’s head rose as she heard a low rumbling sound in the shadows. “What’s that?”

  Kyne tensed beside her, his gaze falling on a ghostly figure. A enormous grey wolf stalked out of the shadows, its eyes glinting unnaturally gold in the moonlight. It began to growl, its lips pulling back to reveal long, menacing, teeth.

  Kyne began to rise, his gaze fixed on the wolf. “Eloise…”

  “Is that…?” Her heart jackhammered in her chest as she pushed to her knees. A wolf in the outback? It could only be one person…

  “Wally,” he murmured. “He’s not himself. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Which meant he would attack his enemies…and his friends.

  “He’s supposed to be down a mine shaft,” she whispered.

  Kyne wasn’t listening. “When I say, I want you to run to Vera’s and don’t look back.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue. Just do it.”

  The wolf approached, its head lowered as Eloise poised herself on her heels.

  “Now.”

  She took off, disappearing behind the Outpost. A cry echoed behind her and she stopped, trembling with fear. Kyne. He hadn’t followed, but she realised he meant to lead Wally away to give her enough time to get to safety.

  Swallowing hard, she leaned back around the corner.

  Kyne was lying in the middle of the road, the wolf on top of him. It snapped his jaws as the miner desperately tried to hold it back, but it was a losing battle.

  Eloise glanced up and down the road, but nothing stirred. No one was around, not even Hardy. There wasn’t enough time to get help. She would have to be it.

  “Hey!” Eloise shouted, running out from behind the corner of the Outpost. She waved her hands over her head. “Over here!”

  It had the desired effect. Wally leapt off Kyne and began to run towards her.

  “Oh shit.” Eloise stumbled backwards as Kyne scrambled to his feet.

  “Run!” he bellowed. “Run!”

  Turning, she sprinted into the darkness, not knowing which way she was running. She darted around trees, weaved through scrub, the sounds of Wally’s pursuit echoing behind her. The dense bushes and barbed spinifex grass seemed to slow him, and it was her one saving grace.

  The earth stirred beneath her feet and the wind played across her face, and soon the only sound that reached her ears was her own breath.

  Eloise stopped her flight and turned. She was alone.

  She didn’t know how long she’d ran, only that she wasn’t near Solace anymore. The sky was clear and dusted with stars and the outback was tinted silver. Her only light was from the full moon which started this mess in the first place.

  “Kyne?” she called, her voice echoing back. “Kyne?”

  Silence. Deafening silence.

  “Shit,” she cursed, running her hands over her sweaty brow.

  Which way was north? What was the direction she’d run from Solace? Did it matter? She turned, but every way looked the same.

  There was no denying her stupidity. She was well and truly lost.

  Chapter 12

  The night wore on, the stars and their complex constellations were useless.

  Eloise walked because there was nothing else for her to do. If she wanted to find her way back, then she had to do something. When the sun rose, she’d get real thirsty, real fast.

  She didn’t know if Kyne was okay or if Wally had changed back. There was no telling how the werewolf had escaped…or if he was let out. Thinking about the Dust Dogs, she wondered if it was all a setup.

  The sun rose in the east…ish. This time of year, it wasn’t exactly true east, though it never was. It was more northeast.

  Bloody hell, she thought. One degree off and I’ll end up hundreds of kilometres off course.

  She turned, her gaze taking in the scrub. It all looked the same. Had she passed that tree already? Maybe, but the one next to it looked just like it.

  Looking over her shoulder, her breath caught. Three yellowish lights burned in the distance.

  She squinted and held her breath. The lights seemed to hover, bobbing up and down ever so slightly. As she took a step forwards, they began to move…or it could’ve been a mirage.

  Either way, lights meant habitation. People.

  Eloise had never been so hopeful about seeing another living person in her whole entire life, so she followed the lights through the scrub. They bobbed and danced, leading her on what felt like an epic chase. No matter how far she walked, they never seemed to get any closer, and then they blinked out.

  She stopped in her tracks, looking around. Moving from side to side, she scanned the landscape in the distance, hoping the lights had just been obscured by a tree or hill…but the land was flat and no matter how far she moved in either direction, the lights never turned back on.

  Dammit. She was getting tired and thirsty, and it’d only get worse once the sun came up.

  The distinct sound of stone against stone echoed in the distance. It knocked three times.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  She turned around, her ears tingling. That’s when she saw it. A shadow moved between the weathered trees, partially illuminated by the silver gleam of the moon.

  Eloise stilled, her heart hammering. She’d never been afraid of the wilderness, having travelled to some of the remotest parts of Australia—from Cape York to the Kimberly—but there was a coldness in the air, screaming at her in warning.

  Not questioning it, she ducked low, hiding amongst some scratchy bushes as the shadow flittered in the distance, creeping ever closer.

  What was it? It made no sound, not like the nocturnal creatures of the outback, which she now realised had fallen silent. There was no scratching, scurrying, or any calls on the wind.

  It had the faint shape of a humanoid creature, with a head, arms, and legs, but it moved with an unnatural gait.

  Fear bubbled inside her, her stomach twisting in knots. Holding her breath, she kept as still as she could, willing herself invisible so the shadow would leave her alone.

  Of all the bloody stupid things you could do, Eloise Hart, you had to run into the outback and get yourself lost.

  It wasn’t until the coldness began to subside that she dared to open her eyes.

  The shadow was gone, and with it, the terror in her heart. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t human…or friendly.

  Climbing out of the bushes, she decided the best thing to do was to go in the opposite direction of the shadow. She continued on her path, hoping she was going the right way.

  Eloise looked up at the sky and wondered if she should pray. She’d never been a religious kind of person, so she wasn’t sure it’d do any good.

  She was well and truly up shit creek without a paddle…and then some.

  Kyne bashed his fist against Hardy’s shop door. A light burned inside the workshop where the vampire was likely polishing his way through a mountain of black opal.

  “Hardy!” he bellowed. “Open up!”

  A moment later, Hardy appeared at the door and flipped the lock. Kyne barged into the shop, his hands burying into his hair.

  “What’s happened?” the vampire asked. “You look like hell.”

  “Wally got out,” he replied. “He—”

  Hardy grabbed Kyne’s arm, his cold fingers pulling h
im around. “Where is he?”

  “I was with Eloise. I told her to run to Vera’s, but Wally was too fast for me. He had me pinned in the middle of the bloody road, and then she comes out waving her hands in the air…” He let out a frustrated cry.

  “Eloise? Where is she?”

  “Where the hell were you?” Kyne demanded.

  “Don’t get all up in my face,” he replied. “I had my noise-canceling headphones on. Where’s Eloise?”

  “Wally chased her into the scrub.”

  The vampire’s expression turned serious. “I’ll go out and see if I can pick up her trail,” he said. “Wally will still be prowling, so be careful.”

  Before Kyne could reply, Hardy had disappeared.

  Locking up the shop, he went next door to Vera’s, keeping his eyes open for the wolf. Wally had chased Eloise, but it didn’t mean he was still on her trail.

  He bashed on Vera’s door, not letting up until she opened it.

  “What in the world?” Her curly red hair was wild, and she had on her pyjamas—a silky black negligée that left little to the imagination and a matching dressing gown. “What’s your problem?”

  He pushed past her and strode down the hall. Vera’s place was a dugout—a renovated mine—and was icy cool. The air smelt like earth and herbs, and the lime-green bead curtain that hung across the door to the lounge room clacked as he swept it aside.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Vera demanded.

  “Wally got out,” he replied. “Attacked me and chased Eloise into the scrub.”

  The witch gaped at him. “What?”

  He turned around, his heart hammering. “Hardy’s gone to look, but if she’s lost—”

  “He’ll find her,” the witch said. She wrapped her dressing gown around her slim waist and tied it closed, then guided him to the couch, making him sit. “But you need to calm down before your head explodes…or you make the roof cave-in on us.”

  Kyne narrowed his eyes. “Not funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be a comedian.” She went into the kitchen and began to fuss. “I’m making you some tea.” The starter on the stove clicked and the sound of water filling the kettle drifted to where he sat.