by A. L. Knorr
“She’s going to check the sea-can?” I asked, heart tripping along and dragging my stomach behind it.
He nodded and looked at me from a pink face topped with very messy hair. “It’s a fifteen minute drive to the homestead. She’ll call me when she knows.”
I let myself join him on the bed and collapsed sideways, my cheek against the duvet. Gage cocked his head to look at me, smiled, then lowered himself beside me so we lay face to face. He brushed a lock of hair away from my eyes, his fingertips sending fire-tracers into my head.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t have it,” I murmured, my gaze dropping to Gage’s full, soft-looking lips. Warmth pooled in my belly.
“Even if he did somehow manage to steal it, you can’t agree to it. The relic isn’t his to barter with, plus he’d die.” His words sent soft puffs of spearmint scented breath into my face.
I nodded. “I know, but if he’s learned something new about the value or nature of it, it should be given to Basil. Don’t you think?”
Gage hesitated, blue eyes roaming my face.
“Just on loan,” I added. “The Agency could look into it for your parents. If it’s authentic, it might answer a lot of questions about mage history.”
Gage nodded, blinking. He shifted closer, his face mere inches from mine. “Maybe.”
A smile drifted across my mouth. “You brushed your teeth before you came to my room, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Gage smiled back and nodded. “That’s how much I like you.”
I touched his lips with my fingertips, feeling fire pass between us. His hand came to rest on my hip, then slipped around to my back to pull me against him. My breath hitched as his palm slipped under the back of my shirt to touch the skin there. Spirals of heat, moving more lazily than usual, poured into my body and spiraled my spine, my stomach, sending fingers of fire to wrap around my heart. His body pressed against mine from ribcage to knee as his hand swept up toward my bra strap, our gazes locked.
He pressed his lips to mine as I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers curling through his hair. Our fire reacted, picking up speed and intensity. Heat blew through my face and wrapped around the back of my skull, flowing down the back of my neck and through my shoulders. The fire from his hand at my back mingled with the fire spreading from his kiss, making me feel transparent and breathless.
Deepening the kiss, he rolled me onto my back, pressing me into the bed with his weight. Our bond-fire swept through me faster now, searing and scorching its way to my core. Moisture broke out on my forehead as the warmth between us built, creating so much sensation throughout my body, my face, my organs, that my lips and tongue felt almost numb with it. He pressed his pelvis into mine, dragging a groan from the back of my throat.
Outside the window lightning flashed and the wind howled.
His phone buzzed, making him pull back abruptly, ending the kiss. For a moment he just stared into my eyes, both of us panting as I touched the hair at the nape of his neck. I couldn’t feel the true sensation of his hair or skin, there was too much heat running through my fingers. I rubbed the pads of my thumb and first two fingers together, feeling the nervy tingle there.
Gage rolled off me and picked up his phone, hitting the answer button. He sounded like he’d been sprinting. “Mom? That was fast.”
As she buzzed into his ear, he settled himself against the wall again, licking his kiss-bruised lips. He flicked me a wink. “I was just running up some stairs.”
I wondered if his lips felt as numb as mine as I drew myself up to sitting. But the bond-fire was dwindling now that we’d parted, and blood began to come back into my brain. I put my hand on my heart and felt it pounding. I watched Gage’s face as he listened to his mom.
It seemed like she would go on forever when he interrupted her. “Mom, Mom. Calm down. I already know who it was.”
My tummy dropped for a less pleasant reason than it had been dipping and swaying a moment earlier. So, Ryan did have the relic, somehow.
I rubbed a hand over my forehead as thunder rumbled in the distance. I looked out the window to catch the first fat drops splattering against my window panes. Normally, I loved storms. There were two dozen possible fireplaces to curl up in front of in the academy, countless tasty drinks to choose from while the storm rolled over us, whipping the trees into tatters and leaving twigs and branches scattered over the lawns. But this time the weather too closely matched my emotional state.
“My guess is that he paid someone, Brady or Mike. You know those guys. They’ll do anything for a couple hundred dollars, even less.”
Angelica buzzed away in Gage’s ear; even from a distance I could hear the anger in her droning, unintelligible sounds.
“Yeah,” Gage replied. “But he knows where all the codes and keys are. We both do. You guys never hid them from us. It wouldn’t be that hard.”
Pause.
“Yeah, I’m disappointed too.”
Pause.
“I don’t know why, Mom. But I’ll talk to him. Try not to worry, okay?”
Half a minute later he hung up, tossed his phone on the bed and let his head thump against the wall, looking at me from under lowered lids. He didn’t need to confirm aloud what was obvious. Ryan had stolen the relic by proxy. I wondered if he’d had someone mail it to him, or if they’d texted him the photo and were keeping it some safe place.
“You never told her why,” I murmured, fighting to keep from staring at his lips.
“No, and she’ll never find out the real reason because you’re not going to agree to the deal anyway. Come on.” He slid off my bed and held out a hand.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“We’re going to confront Ryan and put an end to this insanity for good.”
I took his hand and we left my room to prowl the villa for the other twin, wondering if I should bother telling Gage how many times Ryan had already tried to blackmail me.
Nineteen
Thrice Denied
Twenty minutes later we’d run out of places to look. We had started with his room and found it empty. We’d searched the cafeteria and lounges, the fire-gym and the CTH. Close to our wits’ end, we tried the library. He wasn’t there either. As we went back to the main lobby, planning to check the firegym once more, Gage tried calling Ryan’s cell.
“No answer?” I asked as we passed over the arched walkway.
He shook his head.
Krispy appeared at the other end of the walkway, coming toward us with an arm full of colored folders. “Looking for someone?”
“My brother.” Gage stuffed his phone back in his pocket.
“I saw him leave the manor before the rain started,” she said as she jostled the stack to keep from dropping them. “Maybe he hasn’t come back in yet.”
Gage and I exchanged a look and moved as one to the window. Outside had not been on our hit list. Gunmetal gray clouds boiled across the sky, fuming and misting like a witch’s cauldron. Treetops slashed wildly back and forth in the wind, blurring into streaks of dark green through the wet glass. Fat drops battered the ivy draped over the roof of the walkway and water ran in streams along the rib-work between the windows.
Gage’s eyes narrowed on the ocean, just above the beach, which wasn’t visible behind the stony dunes and beach grasses. He pointed. “Look. There.”
Following his gaze, at first I couldn’t tell what he wanted me to see. Then I noticed faint blooms of light flashing low on the horizon. It wasn’t bright enough to be lightning, it wasn’t even white. It was the warm, amber color of fire. Its source wasn’t visible behind the dunes either, but the light flashed from low to high, definitely coming from the beach.
“Come on.” Gage grabbed my hand as we took the stairs at the end of the walkway, leading to the mudroom. Pulling on our mud boots and rainjackets from the cupboards, we yanked our hoods up and took the door to the driveway where it passed beneath the arch.
Rain pelting us in the face, we jogg
ed through the parking lot, past glistening, wet cars and SUVs, and down the narrow path leading through the back yard. Sliding around in the mud of the trail, we passed the pond and through towering oaks and pines. The ground became sandy and the plants tough and scrubby as we left the manicured lawns and gardens to reach the pebbly beach.
Panting, we squinted against the rain and wind. Rolling waves of dark water crashed and churned against the shore, adding to the intense soundscape. Further along the beach, looking like nothing more than a young boy against a backdrop of angry sky and ocean, was Ryan. Vapor drifted from his body, building a miasma of steam around him. Crouched and coiled, an arm cocking back, he released not just a fire-ball, but a thick, long-lasting blast of flame. The kind of jet one would expect from a flame-thrower.
His spine arched back as he looked into the sky, watching as his blaze was picked up by the wind. Its edges were torn and ragged, but the snake of fire spiraled beautifully into the air as though sucked up by a monstrous vacuum.
Gage put a hand out to stop me from approaching, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I stood there in the sand, water running down my face and the wind trying to rip my hood off, completely transfixed by the show. Gooseflesh rippled along my back and neck, even my calves marbled with goosebumps.
As Ryan drew back his arm again, the fire he’d just loosed spiraled away into nothingness, swallowed by the storm. With another powerful throw, he jetted more fire into the sky, this time with the other hand. It blossomed into life a spectacular emerald green color. My jaw dropped as I watched the pillar of beautiful, verdant flames repeat the captivating dance with the wind.
I gripped Gage’s forearm through his soaked raincoat. “How did he do that?”
Ryan knew fire alchemy? But there was no caustic smell on the wind, no chemical stench like there had been with the intruder’s colored flames. Either these flames were different, or the smell was being blown away from us by the storm. But we were downwind of Ryan, so if there was a smell we would have caught the stink of those flames if they were chemical in nature.
In spite of the confrontation we were there for, Gage had a half-smile on his face and a dimple in his cheek as he watched Ryan play. “It’s his idle. I haven’t seen it in years. It’s amazing he even still has it. Come on.”
Before I could ask him what that meant, he pulled me down to the beach, wet sand depressing under our feet.
Ryan had his arm cocked back for another throw when he saw us. He straightened and put his arm down.
In that brief moment, before he realized what our presence there meant, Ryan looked so relaxed and happy that I felt guilty for interrupting his fun. Then he scowled and the feeling vanished. His gaze flicked between us as he waited for us to close the distance.
He wasn’t wearing any rain gear or fireproof clothing. His hair was plastered to his head and his sweater stuck to his lean torso. His jeans were black with water and dripped from the hems onto his bare feet. Steam continued to drift up from his body. Some distance away in the scrubby grass, I could see his discarded sneakers. Water ran down his face, sizzling and steaming as it struck hot skin and evaporated.
“You ran and told my brother?” His shout softened as it was whipped away from his mouth by the wind.
I opened my mouth but Gage spoke first. “What were you thinking? Mom is upset and you know Dad’ll hit the roof. She’s promised not to tell him if you return it, no questions asked.”
Ryan bent and scooped up a handful of wet sand. He squeezed it, letting it ooze from between his fingers and plop onto the beach in little clods. “I can’t do that.”
“You would steal from our parents?”
Ryan swung his hand back casually and threw the remaining sand toward the water where it spattered in the oncoming wave. He raised his voice to be heard above the wind. His mouth formed a flat line and he shook his head. “They’ve left it locked up in a safe for ages. They only care what happens to it now because it’s become valuable to me. You’ll forgive me one day. You all will. You always do.”
I felt a dubious stillness come over Gage as we stood there at a distance from his twin.
“She won’t do it. You’re crazy to think that she ever would.” He reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. The gesture was more than just affection, it demonstrated the solidarity between us. It took me by surprise. Maybe there was hope for Gage to see Ryan’s true colors after all.
Ryan saw it too and his white teeth flashed as he snarled, “Queen Cagney can answer for herself.”
As Gage turned and looked at me, I felt my heart ratchet tight like a compressed spring. Ryan closed the rest of the distance between us and the twins stood there looking down at me; identical faces, the same blue eyes, the same generous mouth. Tension poured off Ryan along with the steam. When I didn’t answer right away, that same tension tightened Gage’s fingers.
“Saxony?” he prompted.
I opened my mouth but my refusal seemed stuck there as my mind rifled through potential outcomes, following trails of crumbs leading down opposing paths.
Ryan had a relic that Basil would dearly value, and now that I knew it was within reach, I valued it too. What if it did hold the secrets of our species? If the relic held some latent power which could only be unleashed by a Burned mage, then I wanted it out of Ryan’s possession. Having no idea where he was keeping it, the best chance of getting it was to do what he wanted. If I didn’t agree to it, then might Ryan find some other Burned mage who would be willing to take the risk in exchange for the potentially priceless artifact? Wouldn’t it be better in Basil’s hands than some strange mage’s hands?
What if Ryan was right and a Burned mage had some way of knowing intrinsically how to lead a fellow mage successfully through the ritual? Maybe he would survive. If he found a Burned who was willing, he wouldn’t necessarily have to even offer them the relic. Maybe they would do it for money, or something else less valuable. Then he’d join the ranks of the Burned and be in possession of the relic.
But Basil had always been resolute. There was no way of knowing when to give water to a dying mage. Burned or not, I had no clue how to save Ryan. How could I agree to this? And with Gage’s eyes on me, looking the way they did now?
All of these thoughts flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds, but it was enough to draw the atmosphere as taut as a piano wire.
“Saxony.” Gage’s voice grew urgent.
I tore my eyes from Gage’s strained face to look at Ryan. “I won’t do it. Of course, I won’t.”
Gage relaxed and turned to look at his twin, satisfaction rolling off him, all that tension released on an exhale.
Ryan’s expression grew hard, the muscles in the sides of his jaw flexed. His cold eyes glittered like diamonds.
“You have your answer,” Gage said. “Give the bloody thing back to Mom.”
With a sharp snap, Ryan flicked the remaining sand off his hands, disgusted. He glanced at his brother and uttered a solid: “No.”
Turning away from us, he stalked toward his sneakers.
Gage and I exchanged a taut look. He called after Ryan, straining his voice against the wind. Water ran down his face in streams, dripped from his eyelashes.
“Don’t do this, Ryan!”
Ryan didn’t answer and didn’t look back. He shoved his toes into the sneakers, mashing down the heels as he walked away.
“Dad will pull you out of the academy,” Gage hurled in a desperate attempt, his voice cracking.
Ryan kept walking, unaffected.
“Would he?” I asked, squeezing Gage’s hand.
He let out a sigh of defeat. “He might threaten it, but he won’t do it.” He spoke absent-mindedly, eyes appearing more gray than blue in the storm. “He tried it once, you know. Burning. Our dad.”
“Really?”
Gage nodded. “He said it was too painful. Couldn’t go through with it.”
“Was Basil with him?”
I wasn’t surp
rised when Gage scoffed. “Basil would never let him.”
I hesitated, then gave voice to my doubt, tummy twanging. “Do you think Ryan might try to trade the relic with some other Burned? We can’t lose that artifact, Gage. Whatever it is. It’s valuable.”
Gage shot me a disappointed look. “We can’t lose Ryan, you mean. If he did manage, there is a 98% chance that he would die.”
“Of course.”
Gage wrapped an arm around my shoulders, our wet rain-slickers squeaking against one another. We turned and made our way back to the path leading across the villa’s yard.
“He doesn’t know any other Burned,” Gage said. “You and Basil are the only ones. The Agency has a few, but Ryan doesn’t know them or even how to access them. Basil would never introduce him to anyone at the Agency and Ryan knows it.”
“Even if Ryan graduated with Top Marks three years in a row?”
“Even then.” Gage frowned, making himself look older. He squeezed me in to his side and pressed his lips into my forehead, sending warm tendrils of fire around my head like a scarf. “You were his only hope. Now that you’ve turned him down, he has to give up. He just has to.”
Twenty
A Long Overdue Romantic Gesture
Tomio poked his head inside my open bedroom door as I lay sprawled on my bed, homework scattered about me. “I was walking past Secretary Goshawk’s office and she asked me to tell you to come see her.”
I took the highlighter out from between my teeth. I had a lot of work ahead of me. “Any idea why? Do I have to go now?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t say, but there’s a bouquet the size of a sheepdog on her desk. No offence to Goshawk’s husband but I’ve met the guy—the romantic type he is not. My guess is that it’s for you.”
My tummy released a cloud of butterflies. I rolled off my bed and toed my feet into my sneakers, not bothering to do them up before slipping past Tomio. “Thanks.”