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Nothing.
Chris couldn’t think. Becca shook against him. “Where did he go?” she whispered. “Is he—”
“No,” Chris said. But he’d seen that explosion.
Nick was white, his eyes wide. “Chris,” he said. “I can’t—I don’t—he’s not—”
“I can’t, either.” He sent another surge of power into the water, begging, praying.
Nothing. He punched a fist into the water. “Damn it, where is he?”
Wind whipped across the bridge, blowing water and stinging Chris’s eyes.
Nick found his knees, supporting himself against the crumpled guardrail of the bridge. His eyes were dark, his jaw set. Wind blew faster, harder. Large trees in the distance started to bend.
Smaller trees started to snap.
“What’s happening?” said Becca. “Chris, is the Guide doing this—”
“I am,” said Nick. “I’m going to kill him.”
Chris felt his brother’s fury. His own responded, sending the rain on a path of destruction he’d never attempted before. He didn’t care if he lost control; he didn’t care if his power brought every Guide to their door.
Wind spun, dragging the rain and the clouds into a spiral. Roof tiles began to tear loose and fly.
“Oh my god,” said Becca. “You’re making a tornado.”
He was. They were. He’d never felt this strength, but it was all funneled in one direction.
Lightning struck the bridge, ten feet in front of them. They jerked back.
Chris poured more power into the rain. He urged every drop to find the Guide, to destroy. Becca’s hand was clenched on his.
Their enemy was having trouble keeping his feet. Chris could see it.
“More,” he called to Nick. “Stronger.”
“Can you control it?” said Becca. “You told me—”
“I don’t care,” he said.
She grabbed Nick’s hand, too. “Please—this will kill people—”
“He killed my brother.” Nick’s voice was strong, emotionless. But his hand didn’t let go of hers.
Maybe it was because she clutched both their hands, or maybe it was because she sat in water up to her waist. But Chris felt a sudden connection, a link to Nick’s power he’d never felt before. Like the moment he’d fed power into Becca, he felt every drop of water, every particle of his element. He felt the water and the wind, and fed strength into the space around them.
The wind howled, beating at their clothes. The Guide made it to the other side of the bridge, grabbing his end of the guardrail. Chris still couldn’t make out any features in this storm—just focus and control.
Lightning struck five feet away.
Becca screamed.
Then lightning hit the other end of the bridge, almost directly hitting the Guide.
Chris froze.
Another bolt, five feet off. The man darted back, away from the bridge, fighting to keep his footing in the wind.
