Elemental Hunger by Elana Johnson

hood, his quiet amusement gone.
    “What?” I asked.
    He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head toward something in front of him. A wall of smoke hovered in front of me, obscuring the landscape behind it. Pearly and gray, it wafted into the treetops, held back by an invisible barrier.
    “What did you do?” Adam hissed.
I moved forward and stretched out my hand. I could almost feel the energy keeping the smoke from me. I ached to feel it brush my skin, to breathe it into my lungs.
    “Don’t,” Adam whispered, coming up beside me. “We haven’t been invited yet.”
    I swept my hand across my body, and the smoke screen slid to the right.
    Three men stood there, their skin dark. Their golden eyes were rimmed in a darker brown that matched their hair. They looked identical, down to their stance with feet shoulder-width apart and arms folded. They wore breeches, but no shoes or shirts. Living outside obviously required effort, because these guys had more muscles in their arms than I possessed in my whole body.
    I looked away, embarrassed by their nakedness. Adam was now kneeling, his head bowed. I quickly copied him, though I wasn’t sure why.
    “Chief Tavar. We come seeking refuge among the Outcasts.” Adam spoke in a deeper voice. One with more authority, more years behind it.
    “Mr. Gillman, you may enter,” one of the men said, his voice grating as though he didn’t use it much. “Who is he?”
    I didn’t look up, thinking it best not to offend the Chief.
    “My Firemaker, Gabe Kilpatrick. I only go where he goes. The sentry who visited earlier is searching for him. Gabe is accused of a crime he didn’t commit. We need safety, beds, food. We have nothing to offer in return.”
    A long pause followed, during which I studied the forest floor to avoid eye contact.
    “The same arrangement between us exists,” the Chief said. “If your Firemaker agrees to the terms, he may also enter.”
    Adam stood, and I joined him. I wanted to cower behind him, or hold his hand, but I thought both of those options would be unfitting for a guy. Not to mention a Firemaker. So I stood next to him, exchanging a nervous glance before looking back at the Chief.
    “We bring no ill feelings into the settlement,” the Chief said. “We are loyal to each other. I help you with what I can; you provide whatever you can for us. We show respect and kindness while we co-exist on this earth together.” His voice lulled me into a safe place, and I blinked to maintain my attention.
    “Can you agree to do these things?” the Chief asked.
    “Yes,” I managed to force through my lips.
    “Then you Elementals may enter.”
    We moved through the barrier, and a tingle slithered over my body. Maybe Adam was right about these people being Spirit-speakers, but I vowed never to admit it out loud. See, Spirit-speakers were supposed to be a magical race, loving the earth and her resources, and using their religious beliefs to separate themselves from regular society. They’d become outcasts, deemed insane and dangerous by the Supremist, and I’d been warned against associating with them.
    “You found the cloaks,” the Chief said, his voice more playful. I glanced at him, trying to make the image of him match up with what I’d been told about Spirit-speakers. His serious expression didn’t look particularly crazy or dangerous.
    “Yes, my memory served me well. As did the cloaks. We barely had them on before the sentries arrived.” Adam spoke to the Chief like they were old friends.
    I reminded myself that I barely knew Adam, that I couldn’t trust him, that he’d never given me a straight answer, that sharing sleeping quarters with him would be wrong. Besides, I didn’t want him so close to me. The guy didn’t seem to understand personal boundaries.
    “…right, Gabe?”
    I looked up at my new name. Somehow Chief Tavar had maneuvered between me and Adam. He watched me without blinking. He looked even more terrifying close up. I’d