“Aren’t you a water wielder?”
“I channel water, not its temperature!”
I couldn’t help but grin at the frustration in her voice. It sounded like she was ripping off her leathers and dramatically throwing them onto the floor.
Her head suddenly poked out the door. “Can you heat it up for me with your fire element?”
I sat up fully, surprised—and quietly admiring the first time my twin sister had ever asked for my help. I nodded, casual.
She waited for me to speak. Her eyes narrowed a fraction when she realized I wasn’t going to say anything. “Can you come in here and do that for me, then?”
“Say please.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she grumbled, dripping with dramatic flair.
I shrugged. “Your bath water’s only getting colder the longer you wait.”
Her jaw clenched so tight I was surprised it didn’t snap. Through her teeth: “Please.”
I raised a finger to my chin, pretending to mull it over. “Actually… remember that cold bath you drew for me? You know, after you tossed me on the floor from the bed?”
Her eyes flared with anger.
“So, no. I’ll pass,” I said, smug.
Fallon slammed the door.
Now I knew why I was such a light sleeper—my twin had taken all the qualities needed to sleep like a rock. Our room held only a single full-sized bed, and Fallon was currently hogging most of it.
My feet dangled off the edge.
Resigned to a sleepless night, I stumbled out of bed to explore. Just as I was about to leave, I turned back and snatched the thin quilt from my sister to wrap around myself. She didn’t even stir. I slipped on my boots—abandoning any attempt at quiet—and eased out of the room. I crept downstairs and stepped into the cool night air.
“What in the elements are you doing up?” Lakota’s voice rumbled groggily from the shadows.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Well, now I can’t either. Don’t do anything rash—I’m comfortable right here.”
The night was still, the wind brisk against my skin. Each breath escaped in soft clouds as I wandered toward the center of Crossroads, eyes scanning rooftops silhouetted against the moon.
“Aha,” I whispered, spotting what I’d been looking for.
I walked around the inn, inspecting the outer walls. The inn had a flat roof—a detail I hadn’t noticed—while the other four buildings sported triangular roofs. There had to be a way up; I hadn’t seen any extra stairs inside.
Disappointment settled as I circled the building, nearing the last corner. Then, to my surprise, a tall dumpster leaned against the brick wall, positioned beneath a windowsill, with a metal gutter hanging a few feet above it.
“Doom simulator,” I whispered in disbelief.
I rolled the quilt off my shoulders to free my arms and legs, then climbed onto the dumpster. The thud of my boots on metalwas louder than I wanted; hopefully no one would catch me skulking outside in the dead of night. Who’d believe I was a guest of the inn, sneaking around like this?
There was only a couple of feet between me and the windowsill above. I jumped, channeling air to lift me higher so I could grasp the windowsill and haul myself up. The curtains were drawn, but I quickly did the math in my head and realized this had to be the window for Nash and Rhodes’s room. Stretching my arm out as far as I could, I was still a few inches shy of the gutter. I steadied myself, then jumped for it, climbing the wall using every crevice I could find.
I pulled myself over the top, rolling my weight ungracefully while still wrapped in the quilt. After regaining my balance, I locked eyes with the thunderous storm I couldn’t seem to escape.
“Nice move,” Rhodes drawled.
I shook off the embarrassment of how ridiculous I must’ve looked. He leaned against the chimney; I plopped down beside him.
