Elemental Hunger

Chapter One

What's more, I knew the flames wouldn't die by morning—which was exactly why I worked the dinner shift every blazing night.

If I sprinted, I might make it to the ceremony before it began. I stuffed the mostly burnt lump of bread in my mouth and tossed my soiled apron in the direction of the laundry chute before racing outside.

As I ran toward the southern barracks, I wouldn't allow myself to want a Council position. See, if I didn't expect it, then I couldn't be let down when it didn't happen.

Another dirty little secret: I wanted a Council position. Almost as much as I yearned to spark and dance and fly, I ached to belong to a group of Elementals. Because then others would know I was Elemental.

My breath steamed before me in the absolute cold. Yet I didn't really feel it. Elemental benefit—one of many. Elementals lived on the top tier of society. They didn't perform physical labor, didn't serve others, didn't do anything but hone their powers and study politics. See, Elementals kept our cities peaceful and protected; they didn't have time to clean, or cook, or wash their robes.

Once in my dorm room, I hurried to wash my face. I twisted the hot water faucet, cringed at the icy liquid that shot out, and smoothed my wet hands over my hair in a desperate attempt to get it to magically transform into someone else's. It didn't.

I scrubbed the ash out of my teeth and seriously reconsidered my outfit. Everyone else at the ceremony would be dressed according to their rank—meaning they'd have had fittings, and scrubbed skin against which their expensive fabrics would be resting. Even the Unmanifested would be wearing their finest suits. The chosen Elementals would leave the ceremony wearing brightly colored silk robes over their tuxes and dresses.

Another bell rang, and I whispered, "Blazes," before leaving my dorm room. Outside, snow drifted down, the flakes adding to the enormous piles already covering campus.

Cheery yellow light spilled from the gaping doorways in the fortress. With the doors still open and the reverberation of the chime still hanging in the air, I knew the ceremony hadn't started yet. All the same, I increased my speed, hoping to have a few minutes to scope out the scene and take my place in the Unmanifested row.

My hopes were dashed when Jarvis stepped out of the shadows lining the entrance. I slowed my pace and ran my hands over my hair again. See, Jarvis Manning possessed some wicked firemaking ability.

"Running late again, Gabby?" he asked, slow and easy. His hands rested deep in the pockets of his suit pants. He wore a starched white shirt, complete with silver cufflinks. His necktie—yellow, probably the color of his future Council—hung loosely around his neck.

I shifted uncomfortably next to him in those clothes, so different from his usual black school uniform. I felt every inch of his Elemental high ranking, even though we were best friends. "Yes, no thanks to you."

"Hey, I ate as fast as I could." He brushed his dark hair off his forehead, half a smile on his face.

I swept up the last of the steps and into his personal space. As a Firemaker, he gave off a lot of heat. And I needed to pretend like I was seriously cold.

"Sure, sure," I said, rubbing my hands together like they needed the friction. "Why are you out here?" I tried to look past him into the chamber where the ceremony would take place.

"Waiting for you. For a minute there, I thought you weren't going to show."

I exhaled, feeling the weight of my life settle on my shoulders. I didn't have to continue attending these ceremonies. I didn't have to put my name in as a potential Councilmember—again. Candidates could enter their name as many times as they wished to be considered for a Council. The selection ceremonies happened four times a year, and a person was eligible until the winter semester of their junior year. If they weren't chosen by then, well, students needed to gain a skill so they could contribute to society in another way.