Elemental Magic: All-New Tales of the Elemental Masters Read Online Free Page A

He had been trained in Pythagorean music, and each note was accurate and pure.
    The Sirens halted. Kyria wondered if anyone had ever sung to them before. A billow lifted her onto one of the rocks and she struggled to stand.
    “Let goddesses be loved by gods,” she echoed him, “and leave this man for me!”
    Parthenope’s response was more a squawk than song. All three of them mantled suddenly, like hawks in a rage. Clawed feet scored the thin soil.
    “Meto, here!” Kyria cried. A wave rolled up the rocks behind her, showering her with spray. “Sea Sisters!” she called as she had once before, “Help me!”
    As Meto staggered backward, his sylphs swarmed between him and the Sirens, humming furiously. The Sirens leaped after, powerful wings sweeping them aside, clawing at their prey.
    “He is mine, mine, mine!” they screamed. “He belongs to me!”
    And screamed again as a great wave rose up before them, and a Voice resounded from the depths,
“No. . . you belong to the sea!”
    Then the whole weight of water fell, tossing Kyria and Meto up onto the land. As it released them, they saw the retreating wave swirl a mass of feathers away. A woman’s body gleamed above the billow, then was drawn back under.
    “Godly born, you may not die,” that deep voice spoke again, “but you shall dwell now in my waters. Earth and air no more shall bear you—become now creatures of the sea!”
    Blinking, Kyria glimpsed the supple shapes of the Nereids riding the waves, and beyond them the huge shoulders and bearded face of their father. He plunged his trident into the depths. Twisting and fluttering in the whirlpool were three creatures with the tails of fishes and the upper bodies of women whose flowing hair glistened silver, bronze, and gold.
    *   *   *
    “If Pythagoras is right about the balance of Love and Strife,” murmured Meto, “surely the elements owe us time for love.”
    Kyria smiled into his shoulder and curved her body to fit his. Looking up through the pine branches, she glimpsed a flicker of white as the piece of sail they had tied to a length of deckboard as a signal flapped lazily. In a moment, she should get up and see what the sea was doing, but it was much nicer to simply lie in Meto’s arms.
    She must have dozed off then, for when she opened her eyes again, one of the nymphs was hovering before her, stuttering with excitement.
    “A ship! Despoina, a ship comes!”
    Gasping with mingled tears and laughter, Kyria and Meto scrambled out of their shelter and ran down to the shore. A fishing boat with two rowers was easing around the end of the island, rocking dangerously as Kyria’s father stood up and waved.
    He was shouting, but all they could hear was the song the sea sang to the wind.
    Note: The first discussion of the Four Elements to appear in writing was the work of the philosopher Empedocles, son of Meto, born in Agrigentum, Sicily, in 490 BCE. In addition to being a healer and friend of the Pythagoreans, he was said to be a magician and controller of storms. The Sirens’ isles (the Sirenusae) are still there. They may be seen on Google Earth in that dark spot just southwest of Positano, Italy.

The Fire Within Him
    Samuel Conway
    Poor old Appollonios! His happy, wine-soaked dreams gave way to an awful pounding in his head, as though some very large bird were pecking at his temple,
peck peck peck!
He awoke from the fog to discover that, indeed, a very large bird was pecking at his temple. With a grunt, he flapped his arm to shoo it away, but the bird was back in an instant,
peck peck peck!
    “Oh, go away!” Appollonios cried. “Stop bothering me.”
    But the bird would not go away. It flittered away from his waving hand only to return right away, its huge black beak pounding at the poor old man’s head. Angry now, Appollonios summoned the Fire within him. He did not mean to harm the bird, of course, only to frighten it off, but much to his surprise the bird threw up its wings and a