Elemental Hunger by Elana Johnson Read Free Book Online Page A

broken-down building every now and then. If they weren’t too far off the road, I searched them for food. I always came away empty-handed.
    As the sun dipped lower, I scanned the horizon for a place to spend the night. Only the black highway snaked in front of me. Snow banked the sides.
    Finally, a brown brick building came into view. It looked like it might stay standing for one more night. Maybe. The way the wind howled, maybe not.
    As soon as I stepped off the highway, my leg sunk into the half-melted snow. A burst of cold infused my bones. The sun dipped below the horizon after only four agonizing steps. Shivering and wet, I stood in chilly shadows.
    I cursed with every squelching step, vowing to burn the building to the ground if it was locked.
    Then the door opened.
    I hit the ground before blinking. My breath felt hot against my nose and cheek, shallow as it was. The snow was even wetter from all the rain, and icy water seeped into my clothes. I’d never felt so cold. I couldn’t even feel the spark of fire inside.
    “…lost her? And you’re just now reporting it? …no, I haven’t seen her, but I doubt she could have caught up to me. I’m thirty miles south of Crylon.” The sentry’s harsh voice faded, and a faint clang trembled in the night sky as the door closed.
    I crept back to the highway, got up, and ran. My clothes froze to my body, but I didn’t dare stop. After a while, I didn’t think I could suck in another breath without my lungs freezing together. My legs and feet were screaming their protests at the running.
    I spotted a boulder a few yards off the road. The wind whipped around me. My Element lay curled inside my chest. I pulled on it and held my hand out, palm down.
    Nothing happened.
    Scared and freezing, I thought I might die. I inhaled sharply, the frigid air blossoming into barbs in my chest. I called on my fire again. This time, the flames dripped from my fingers, sizzling as they met the snow. I cleared a path to the rock and curved my body into a hollow spot. With chattering teeth, I pressed my palms to the stone beside me and willed my fire into flames.
    The rock drank the warmth greedily, and soon enough, echoed it back to me. The ice melted from my clothes, and I swallowed a handful of melted snow. I ate another bar, noting that I only had three bars and two cans of soup left.
    To distract myself, I thought of the last time I’d seen Cat. I’d stood, waiting, staring out the narrow window in my dorm room. She’d knocked—much lighter than Liz.
    I didn’t answer, but she came in anyway. The scent of lilacs accompanied her. They grew next to the western barracks, where she lived. Cat loved purple lilacs.
    “Gabby, honey, you can’t stay in your room forever.”
    “I know.” But I wanted to. My room signified my life—closed in by four walls.
    “Jarvis keeps asking about you.”
    “I saw him yesterday,” I said. “Nice try.”
    “At least you’re smiling now,” she said.
    She was right. A smile had formed on my face. “I assume Isaiah’s waiting for you.”
    A pained look crept through her eyes. “He’s in the hall. He can’t stand good-bye’s.”
    “Cat—”
    “We won’t be in diplomacy training forever. And who knows? Maybe you’ll come to Tarpulin next year—with Jarvis.” Her smile accentuated her natural beauty.
    See, Cat knew what I longed for. She had wanted the same things, just in a different way. She loved Isaiah; she wanted to marry him.
    I didn’t want to marry Jarvis. I just didn’t want him to desert me too. I didn’t want to be alone. But I didn’t really have any other choices.
    When I’d Manifested, though, I had a fourth “opportunity.” Wife. By law, all Watermaidens must marry a Councilmember. All female Councilmembers must marry, I amended in my head.

    The whirring fans of a hovercraft wiped away the last cobwebs of sleep. The sound vibrated in my senses, coating them with fear. See, only sentries used vehicles.
    The buzzing