by Lisa Daniels
“Right,” he said, after spending entirely too long staring at her raptly. “Right, yes. It was.”
“Her world… it changed. Perhaps she felt lost, even with you there. And I’m sure her abuser was perfectly nice to her when they first met. He probably was the perfect gentleman. She had these good memories of him, the knowledge that he could be a kind and caring person. So when… it got worse… she’d always tell herself that it wouldn’t last. They could go back to how it was before.”
Every word applied to Kelsey as well, and she knew it. Perran clung to each one, looking as if his entire mind had been tipped upside down.
Perhaps it had. He likely never thought about it from the perspective of his sister before. Always angry that she didn’t save herself. Kelsey got where he was coming from, but she didn’t think his attitude was completely fair to his sister, either. Because he’d never been in that situation himself, and probably could never imagine being in it. He was just too certain of himself.
If someone had enough doubts and fears, and another person took advantage of that…
“I still think she should have done more for herself,” he replied shortly, almost stubbornly. “It doesn’t matter how much someone brings you down. It’s your fault if you let them.”
Her cheeks colored. “You’re wrong on that, I think.”
“No one has any power over you if you don’t let them, Kelsey,” he said. “No one. Their words are nothing without you reacting to them.”
“Not everyone realizes they have a choice, Perran.” Her voice came out as cold as the air around them. She surprised herself with the venom behind her statement. Old Kelsey… she’d never even dare.
“It is still a choice, nonetheless. Whether you free yourself—or refuse to see another way out.”
“So it’s the victim’s fault, now?” she said, her voice rising. She wrenched her arm out of his at last. “The victim, the one being abused—they’re the ones who have it wrong? Not the abuser?”
“I never said that,” he replied quietly, calmly, which caused her to deflate slightly, and the crimson to creep further along her cheeks. She wanted to stammer an apology, but he added, “The abuser is at fault, of course. But the victim makes it easier for the abuser to get a hold. And their problem is that they don’t realize that all along, the door was open.” His mouth drooped in a frown. “Maybe we should agree to disagree on this. But Kelsey—I do… I appreciate what you said. Okay?”
“We argued,” she replied, rather helplessly. “I raised my voice.”
“You’re allowed to get angry. So am I. It’s a thing. People get angry.” He gave a quick smile, though there was no warmth behind it. “Okay. We’re here.” He pointed at a small, wood cabin, and Kelsey’s attention was momentarily captivated by the flickering blue electricity licking the roof.
Outside the dark, wooden cabin, trying not to flinch from the unexpected sparks of electricity, Kelsey turned to face Perran, who still wore that frown. “Did I anger you, Perran?”
“No. I angered myself. Don’t worry about it.” He kept his gaze averted from her, however, which made her think he wasn’t entirely telling the truth. He knocked on the door, and a moment later, a woman answered it. One who quite noticeably had one part of her face paralyzed, for when she greeted them, the muscles upon the left side refused to move.
“About time you got here. I was wondering if you went down with the last storm,” the woman said. The woman whose name Kelsey still didn’t know, come to think of it. Or had Perran told her and she’d just simply forgotten? Not wanting to seem rude, she hoped someone would mention the name in time.
“Oh, you know me. Takes more than a storm to sink a dragon.”
“Hmph.” The storm witch gave a peculiar half-smile. “Well. Remind me of her name.”
“Kelsey,” Kelsey said. She didn’t need Perran to say it for her.
“I’m Lissa,” the witch said. “And if you’re wondering about what happened to my face—let’s just say I know what can happen if you don’t have control of your storm powers.”
Kelsey gave a nervous gulp. Her experiments trying to access her powers suddenly seemed much more foolhardy in that moment. “W-when did it happen?”
“Not too long after Serpent Isle’s fall,” Lissa replied. “I was quite young to be accessing my powers. And I was also in a very bad emotional state at the time. That doesn’t mix well. Now, come, come in. You can leave now,” she added, glaring at Perran. Which suggested maybe they hadn’t left on quite so amiable terms as Perran underplayed.
“I’ll collect you at the end of the month,” Perran promised her. “And I’ll visit as often as I can. It’s going to be a long chase with the fugitive. Far too many hiding places for the target to hide in, even with our informants.” He lightly grasped Kelsey’s hand and lifted it to his face, giving a closed-mouth kiss upon her knuckles. Her stomach flipped, and her nostrils flared from the unexpected contact. They might not have agreed or settled matters from their previous discussion, but he was trying to convey to her no hard feelings.
He swept away, leaving Kelsey watching him until he slipped out of sight.
“Let’s get you in and make some tea, shall we, dear?” Lissa placed a thick hand on Kelsey’s back, leading her inside the little cabin.
The cabin’s space was well managed. There was a single bed in one corner, and blankets draped over the couch, where Kelsey knew she’d be spending her time. Better than the floor. Though she would have accepted if that was her only option. The kitchen area was small. The thing that intrigued Kelsey the most was all the flimsy metal wirings decorating the higher parts, leading to strange orbs that were lit with a yellowish tinge. She was more used to white orblight and the softness of candlelight.
“Electricity,” Lissa said. “Not many prefer it, because candles and light witches are far more convenient, and generally safer. But you use what you’ve got.” She busied herself with her stove, and Kelsey noticed that the stove seemed to operate with electricity as well. Instead of flames, it was a type of plate that heated up. It reminded her of stone-baking in the summer.
With tea served, Kelsey tried to pretend that she didn’t find Lissa’s unerring scrutiny disturbing and slightly off-putting.
“Okay, so tell me, how long ago did you discover your magic?”
“Over a month ago. Month and a half, maybe.”
“Storms,” Lissa said. “That’s far too long. You must have been seriously repressing it.”
Or seriously repressed, Kelsey thought. She quirked a smile on her face. “I never had chances to really get to know myself. And I came from a house where controlling my emotions was… best for my survival.”
“Ah.” Lissa’s face hardened. “I see why you’re with him, now. He does go for people who suffered like his sister did. Well, you seem to be relatively healthy if you’re here now.” She reached out a hand towards Kelsey. “Grasp me firmly. I’m going to probe you with my magic.”
That sounded awfully ominous to Kelsey, but she did as asked anyway, hoping this probing wouldn’t result in something painful. And something she’d very rapidly regret. When they touched hands, skin to skin, she was instructed to close her eyes, and feel what the storm witch was doing to her.
At first, there was nothing but the awkwardness of their contact. The hard chair she sat in, the minty steam from her tea drifting into her nostrils, and distracted thoughts moving back to Perran, because she honestly wanted to keep talking to him about his belief system. His conviction that his sister should have done more. She didn’t want there to be such a long pause—she knew how words and feelings got lost over time.
Something tickled her arm. She opened her eyes slightly to see blue electricity flickering over her, and almost jerked her arm away on the spot. Lissa sensed the tension in her grip, because she said, “Don’t move. Eyes closed.”
Reluctantly, Kelsey closed her eyes again, grimacing as the tickling sensation spread. It went to her shoulder
, across her chest, and soon targeted her extremities, making her feel as though her entire body was bathed in flames, but without the heat usually associated with them, or the smoke.
“It should feel good, if you’re in touch with your powers. If you’re not, you’ll get an overwhelming urge to scratch yourself,” Lissa said.
“Yes… I….” Her other hand started scratching, but nowhere she touched felt relieved. “Can you stop this?”
“No. I’ll keep doing this until you learn to relax and accept the sensation. When it becomes less of an under-skin nightmare, and more like it’s a natural part of you.”
Kelsey let out an irritated hiss from between her teeth as the itching got worse and worse. Eventually, she yelped and broke hand contact completely, rubbing herself vigorously. “That’s horrible! Isn’t there a better way to do this?”
“There’s more painful ways,” Lissa said, giving her an almost contemptuous expression. “But of course, if you don’t want to learn...”
Taking a deep breath, Kelsey stared at the storm witch. “I want to learn.”
“Then show me that you mean it.” Lissa held out her hand again, with the half of her face that worked displayed a smug smile.
Kelsey had a sneaking suspicion she was going to grow to hate the training before long.
* * *
Slowly, excruciatingly, they made progress over the next two weeks. Kelsey enjoyed none of it, and by day three, wanted to just bolt out the hut and fling herself off the edge. The tickling became torture, and she slept restlessly, constantly reaching to scratch herself, even though the effect was long over. By the fourth day, though, exhausted and pissed off, she managed to convert the feeling from tickling to a dull buzz.
And then to a feeling like floating in water, like she was drifting away with a warm sun above her in the public baths.
As if the electricity was as normal as breathing. From there, she progressed to manipulating Lissa’s energy as instructed, to be able to taste when a storm was coming—and when a storm came, to harness the lightning.
Which had to be the scariest part of the whole training, because that involved letting herself get struck by lightning and embracing the impact, like she’d been doing with Lissa’s powers.
Upon the two-week mark, a rather haggard and red eyed Perran dropped in to visit them, apologizing for the long break.
“We’ve explored about half the islands now, and apprehended a few other petty criminals. Just not the criminal we actually want. How’s the training going?”
Kelsey didn’t answer, too busy absorbing the sight of him and realizing how much she’d missed regular human contact with more than one person. Lissa certainly provided stimulating company, but not the fun kind. Kelsey missed his smile, his manner around her. She wanted to see more of it. However, he seemed ready to drop dead upon his feet.
“She’s doing well. Already harnessing lightning. I’m not letting her use her own electricity yet,” Lissa said. “More focusing on her ability to manipulate sources of energies that already exist. I’ve found it by far to be the safest way to do it.”
Although Kelsey trusted the storm witch enough to know what she was doing, a part of her still wanted to be able to use the magic within herself, rather than borrow someone else’s powers, or stand there and hope she didn’t mess up and get electrocuted by raw, natural lightning.
“Glad to hear it,” Perran said, giving Kelsey a light brush on her back with his palm. “You’ve come a long way. I can’t help but be a little proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Kelsey replied shyly, not quite able to control the flush creeping over her cheeks. “I wouldn’t be here without your help, though.” She closed her eyes, concentrating on his hand as it now clasped her shoulder. “I didn’t want to admit I needed help, you know.”
When she opened her eyes again, she saw Lissa staring at the two of them with a sharp, beady glint in her eyes.
“You know, Perran,” Lissa said, focusing on the dragon lord. “I’m starting to think you’re not just being nice to Kelsey because she was in need of help.”
“How do you figure that?” Perran said, his grip tightening on Kelsey’s slender shoulder.
“Well, have you two kissed yet?”
Kelsey’s mind completely froze. She was also sure Perran, just behind her, had forgotten how to breathe. “I, uh, erm, we—no, we...”
“We’ve not,” Perran said, withdrawing contact from her. “And I’d like it if you didn’t ask something personal like that again. Kelsey’s got enough to deal with without worrying that I might do something inappropriate.”
“Oh, of course. She’d never have to worry about what you’ll do.” Lissa’s lips spread in a sly smile. “But perhaps you better worry about what she’ll do.”
What Kelsey did in that instant was to burn so red with embarrassment that she wanted to shrink into the floor and vanish forever. She avoided eye contact with Perran, even as something lurched in her stomach that had nothing to do with nerves or shame.
Perran admonished her again, but the damage was done. Kelsey couldn’t get the suggestion out of her head. And when Perran left a few hours later, citing more chasing after their elusive fugitive, Kelsey was distracted for the rest of her training day.
No matter how much she mulled it over, turned the thoughts in her mind, she kept returning to one conclusion.
He hadn’t denied interest in her. He was concerned with putting her in an awkward situation—but the fact that he was concerned in the first place… didn’t that mean he harbored some sort of attraction? And that he just refused to act upon it, because he knew she wasn’t ready?
She didn’t know how to handle the knowledge that he might like her. Enough to kiss her, like Lissa implied. She ran through their interactions in her mind. Always asking after her. Making sure she had all the tools possible to break away from Feylen. Helping her establish a friend network. All those stares she’d caught him in the middle of doing. And when he was drunk upon the ship, how strangely sweet he’d been, how unwilling to let her see him so vulnerable, because he didn’t want her to think the worst of him.
His determination to help her. The close contact. When Feylen had touched Kelsey, it was always heavy and promising pain. When Perran touched her, it was soft, and promised kindness. Affection.
It would be so inappropriate, she told herself. The last thing he’d want is for me to develop affection beyond what we have now. Right?
She couldn’t answer her own question. She also didn’t want to ask Lissa, not trusting herself to like the storm witch’s answers.
The training continued over the next week. She was finally able to progress from manipulation to conjuring her own source of magic. It involved sinking into an almost meditative state to access it safely. Which meant Kelsey might struggle to summon it under pressure.
“Even if everything around you is chaos,” Lissa said, “you should be able to access your magic, whatever happens. All you need to do is picture the calm in yourself long enough for it to happen. So our practice now is to make sure you can learn to access that calm rapidly. So when I say ‘now’, you’ll get your lightning stoking.”
Even with Lissa’s relentless pushing, Kelsey didn’t perform well under pressure. At all. She simply fell to pieces when confronted with stress. And it made her feel worse to know the storm witch was disappointed in her reaction.
“It’s a bad habit, Kel,” she said. “It’ll get you killed.”
Kelsey knew it. But every time she got stressed, her mind decided to roll through every terrible thing she’d suffered under Feylen’s roof. Every bruise, every hurtful word, every attempt to make her feel worthless, stupid, incompetent. Combined with her reflections of Perran Rus, it reduced her to a hot mess.
Two days before the official training ended, Kelsey lay on the couch in total darkness. Lissa snored softly from the corner, ensuring that Kelsey couldn’t sleep at all. The older woman had an almost grunting snort which star
tled her at random intervals. She also hated how dark it became, because Lissa preferred there to be no lights at all for her to sleep, since dawn’s light tended to wake her from her otherwise dead faint. Kelsey quivered under four layers of blankets, her ears picking out all kinds of sounds, and she longed to be back in a bed, and not out here in the middle of nowhere, on a lonely island barely inhabited by fifty people. The storm witch traded her lightning for food and other wares, and she was getting a hefty haul from Perran for training Kelsey. But for all their living together, they still felt like complete strangers to one another at times.
Even Luan showed more friendliness than Lissa, and that was saying something.
A low, keening moan sent jolts of anxiety down Kelsey’s spine. Just the wind. Just the wind, making horrible, blood-chilling noises that made her hunch up into herself under the sheets. Sure, she might be capable of summoning lightning, but that didn’t stop her feeling any more vulnerable than before. The wind continued its low, unsettling moans, trapped in the narrow spaces of trees and leaves.
She almost leaped out of the sofa when the window behind her creaked. Her attention danced to it, but she couldn’t really see anything. When another creak came, Kelsey, paranoia getting the best of her, slid off the sofa, taking some blankets with her, and fumbled her way to the side of the room as quietly as possible. In the kitchen area, she crouched behind the table, just as another sound joined the creaking.
Thump.
Someone was in the room with them. Someone who had crawled in through the back window. Her eyes strained in the darkness. She knew she should say something, announce something, but no words came out. She made no move to warn Lissa, too frozen inside and out by fear.