River Running (Indigo Elements Book 1)

by Eden Reign

  “Grey,” she soothed. “Grey, you must calm yourself.”

  The ice crossed the entire pane in response to Grey’s distress, and with a pulse of magic, the window shattered, bursting from its frame across the grass outside the house.

  “Grey!” Manda cried. She clung to him with one arm, and turned to press her other hand against the shard-covered window sill where ice crystals still crusted the frame. The moisture from the crystals and the blood that sprouted from her palms grew and compounded inside her, mounting into a storm. As a distant roll of thunder sounded above the house, Manda tried to control Grey’s powerful magic with her own. She’d sensed a latent power much stronger than her own at their first meeting, but this was the first time she’d had to challenge it. Straining against it, she wrapped his small, shaking body in her arms, forcing out a lullaby her mother had sung to her long ago, a Nanu song.

  Hush, now, my little baby sweet,

  Sleep, let your dreams awake.

  Your pillow’s soft, your furs are warm.

  Hush now, for sleep awaits.

  As she sang, Manda drew the moisture from the overhead cloud closer. It was dense, hard to manipulate, and agitated, mirroring Grey’s emotions. She clung to the edges of the storm, the only part she could grasp, fearful that Grey would lose control and destroy Coalhaven beneath a deluge of hail or ice. She began the next verse of the lullaby, straining against his power.

  A sheen of sweat broke out on her temples as Grey cried stormily against her shoulder. But in another moment, her soft, soothing voice seemed to reach him. The sphere of water and mist that roiled high overhead erupted outward, spewing the thick rainclouds in every direction.

  Spirals of mist covered the moon and the stars before dissipating into nothingness.

  Grey lay still now, and when Manda carefully pulled back to check on him, she discovered that he was sound asleep. She slid her arms under his knees and lifted him, placing him into the other bed away from the broken window. She pulled the covers around his small form and tucked him in.

  Absently, she scooped up the letter Daniel Lake had given her nearly two weeks ago to deliver to Jackson. It rested on the shelf by her bed. She couldn’t decide if she should give it to Jackson or not—not with the way he’d been acting. Her fingers traced over the scrawled words on the paper, her thoughts darkening. She sighed, returning the letter to the shelf, and plucked her shawl from the hook beside the door. She wrapped it over her shoulders.

  While Grey may have cried out his miseries, she hadn’t yet managed to settle her mind. Anxieties gnawed at her. She wanted to tell Jackson what had happened to Grey when Miss Blazen’s fireheart had exploded, wanted to give him Master Lake’s letter, but Jackson’s odd behavior had pulled the rug from beneath her feet. She no longer trusted him—and that left a void in her heart that was bigger than practicalities. She swallowed. She’d come to care for Jackson Coal. Greatly. And she’d believed he’d returned that regard. Until now.

  Manda sheathed herself in her robe, and then stepped out of the door, she closed it tightly. She hesitated, her fears regarding the Blazens growing and elongating with the evening’s dark shadows. Taking a deep breath, she called liquid to her fingers again, brushing down the door to reform her water shield. She also added shields to the windows.

  Manda crossed her arms, snugging he shawl around her night rail, and meandered among the slices of moonlight, each of them as unattainable and phantasmic as the dreams of her heart.

  She wandered along the stream bed, seeking the peace that eluded her, striving to put to bed the fear and anger that clutched at her heart. The water was her peaceful resting place, and she took solace in watching the silver moonlight dancing on the currents. The air was warm, and though the tree frogs had gone to bed, the crickets still sang, and somewhere, downstream, she could hear the distant splash of a small waterfall over rocks.

  The music from the house had stopped, and the chatter had gone quiet. The ball was ending. Relief filtered through her. She hadn’t been caught by any of those from the High Families and Savana society, so it was only a matter of avoiding the Blazens for the duration of their stay. She put Master Coal’s forthcoming marriage to Leah Blazen from her mind.

  She surveyed the water again. Grey liked to play here at the Mirror Lake; the river splashed down some falls into the deeper water, and the lake was ideal for swimming and unnaturally warm. One of the everbloom magnolias that overlooked the large pool had a comfortable nook for sitting a few feet off the ground. The place was secluded, a secret haven far from the troubles of the world. Manda turned her steps in that direction.

  She glanced toward the plantation house. The lamps in her former bedroom were blazing. If Jackson had given her bedroom to that horrid painted doll… she couldn’t find a threat harsh enough to satisfy her. Anger hadn’t released its hold on her yet. She would have taken Grey and run tonight, but for the risk of the law—and one other thing.

  Grey had called Master Coal “his new papa.” He had opened his heart to Jackson, as she had, and infuriating as the man was being, Manda couldn’t bring herself to pull Grey away from him. Not when he’d lost his own father and said goodbye to his mother years before. What child should be put through such pain? Manda’s gaze dimmed with tears at the thought.

  She had reached the tree. She raised her skirts above her knees, tucking them into her waistband, and pulled herself up, branch by branch, to the sitting place. It was peaceful here, ten feet or so in the air. The night noises that surrounded her created quiet cacophonies as she settled her back against the branch rising at a sharp angle to the trunk, making a perfect seat.

  She leaned her head back against the bough. Through the branches she could see the stars. The moon cast its full silver light on the river below.

  A splash sounded, louder than the tumbling patter of the waterfall. Manda gasped, sitting up straight.

  Her heart thrummed in a wild, dizzy tempo. She stared.

  Jackson’s dark head crested the waters of the swimming hole, lit by the silvery moonlight. Shining liquid poured in streams from his hair. He stood, facing Manda’s tree, the water coming no higher than his waist, and wiped the liquid from his eyes before diving again, flipping like a fish in the water.

  Manda watched, lips parted, hardly daring to breathe.

  His drenched shirt clung to the muscular planes of his chest above the waistline of his soaked breeches. Sweet Merciful Rivers.

  Heat coursed to her cheeks. A heady breathlessness stole the air from her lungs. She swallowed hard, but her mouth was dry.

  Contain yourself, Manda, he’s not yours. He can’t be.

  Manda shifted, ducking lower for a better view; the leaves of her bough partially veiled the sight. Jackson stood again, rubbing at his wrist.

  She squinted. She couldn’t see well in the moonlight, but she certainly wanted to see … as much as she could.

  Jackson dove once again.

  Manda shifted to see where he went next, and in her haste, she slid straight off the branch, her shawl sailing through the night. “Oh!” The ground below the tree curved into an incline, and Manda landed hard on it, sliding down the slippery bank, landing face-first in the water.

  Hands spanned her waist, familiar hands, nine fingers and the stump of another. She was lifted from the water, coughing, choking, sputtering, long grasses stuck in her hair that hung to her waist in streaming, soaked curls.

  Jackson stood in front of her, his hands still on her waist. “Manda,” he murmured. It seemed almost as if he had expected her. Had he?

  “I didn’t come to see you s—swim,” she blurted. “I—I mean, the tree—I was taking a walk and I—was going—it was an accident. I didn’t—”

  His finger on her lips stopped the flow of stuttered words. Gently, he plucked the grass strands from her hair, dropping them into the water at her side. His other hand kept a firm grasp on her waist. He tugged her closer, smoothing back the soaked thick curls that ran down her
back.

  Manda’s heart nearly burst through her ribcage. She could not move. What was he doing? His every touch was torture. He lifted a length of her hair, curling its wet fronds around his finger, pulling her closer to him. “Manda,” he breathed. He dipped his head. “Forgive me. Say you forgive me. Please.” He pulled back, lifting both hands and gently captured her head, running his hands down the sides of her neck, drawing her closer.

  Manda’s eyes slid shut. This was like a dream, a happy dream, to be held by him in this safe, secret place, surrounded by her element and protected from the world. At peace, with his arms around her.

  But it was a lie.

  There was no peace here at Coalhaven. Not while the Blazens lurked only a stone’s throw away like spiders awaiting their prey. Not while poor Grey lay trapped behind her water walls, unable to move freely on account of Jackson’s reckless behavior.

  “Manda,” Jackson whispered hoarsely as he caressed the hollow between her collarbones. “I don’t deserve you.” He moved closer, hesitating, almost as if he asked permission, his lips a breath away

  The impossibility of it all came tumbling back in one heart-rending, soul-tearing sob.

  She was a halfmage. Even if Jackson Coal could be trusted, this could never happen. And she still wasn’t sure he could be trusted.

  “What. Are. You. Doing? Jackson Coal, you are a madman! You’ve been so erratic I could barely recognize you, putting Grey at risk, bringing … those people here and forcing him to meet them! You’ve been dangerous and reckless, and nearly mindless in your lack of care! You’ve been an absolute beast! And now you want forgiveness?” She flung her arms outward, breaking his hold on her. “You really are too much!”

  Jackson, his face pale, toppled backwards into the lake with an enormous splash that sent a wave of water eddying around Manda.

  As his head poked above the surface, she opened her mouth, ready to let her words fly again, but his sad, dark gaze captured hers. His expression was so downcast, it wrenched her soft heart.

  Jackson turned and silently paddled toward the shore.

  Manda couldn’t look away as he rose from the water like a Nanumaru god. His clothing clung to him, shaping the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He turned his gaze to her and crouched on the bank, his head hanging like a scolded puppy’s.

  “You are right to castigate me, Manda. I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry for all I’ve done. I can offer no excuse except to say that I don’t believe I was in my right mind.”

  Manda choked back the anger. “Not in your right mind? Jackson, you were an absolute tyrant. You came back to Coalhaven and insisted on introducing Grey and me to the Blazens, knowing full well what they could do to Grey. Do you mean to say you didn’t understand what you were doing?”

  Jackson slicked his wet hair back from his face and reached for his boots. “Manda, I swear to you, I would never have done that had I known what I was doing. Please, believe that, if you believe no other good thing of me. I hate that I put Grey—and you—in danger. I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Manda shifted through the water toward the shore. She hauled herself, dripping, onto the bank near him, tucking her soaking robe more tightly around her. Moonlight glinted in the deep brown wells of his eyes. “Then what induced you to do such a thing?” she asked.

  “I think—I believe Leah Blazen put a magemark on me.”

  Chapter 21

  Jackson

  Jackson was not pleased to admit he had been under Leah’s power. He studied Manda’s face as he lifted his right arm and showed her the heart-shaped mark on his wrist. Was it wishful thinking that he imagined a drop of sympathy in her expression? When she had lashed out at him, he’d nearly given up hope. But now ... would Manda believe him? He wouldn’t be able to bear it if she left him again.

  Manda took his arm and lifted it into a slash of silvery moonlight, her fingers softly caressing the motionless mark the size of a strawberry. “That vile woman!” she exclaimed, startling Jackson. “She tried to do the same thing to Grey, with her evil heart present.”

  “She gave a fireheart to Grey? But he’s not a firemage!” Jackson’s grip tightened around Manda’s forearm. “When? Why? What happened?”

  “It was shortly after she arrived, after we greeted them.”

  Jackson winced at her careful omission of the reason for Manda and Grey’s meeting with the Blazens. He couldn’t believe he’d insisted on it, even in his befuddled state.

  “She came running after us,” Manda went on, freeing herself from his grip. “She gave him this heart-shaped ornament that looked like porcelain, and—and she told Grey to open it with his power. When he did, the heart exploded, cutting him to ribbons, and it left—” Manda gestured at his chest, “that exact same heart-shaped mark on Grey’s chest, only much larger, and pulsing. Honestly, I thought—I thought she meant to kill him,” Manda whispered. “Though she claimed it was an accident. She also said something about him opening it with the wrong power. I fear she may know that Grey is a halfmage.”

  Jackson plunged his hand through his wet hair, pushing it from his face.“The evil witch! I’ll never forgive myself for allowing this to happen. At least if she gave him a fireheart, she suspects that Grey is my own bastard, a firemage. She doesn’t know who he really is. She would never imagine a watermage could open a fireheart. Sacred Wells, Manda, how—how is he?” Creeping horror took hold of Jackson’s heart. A magemark—even one like Leah’s that did not rove—was a terrible curse. “I must go to him.” He turned and strode toward the house, his wet shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He glanced back when Manda did not follow. “What is it? Is he hurt? Is that why you came out here in the first place? Why did you let me—”

  “Grey’s fine, as I said.”

  “How? You said she marked him! When I get my hands on Leah Blazen, she’ll regret this.”

  “Jackson, trust me. We can go to Grey in the servants’ quarters—”

  “The servants’ quarters?” Jackson interrupted. “Did I make you flee out there?” Guilt shredded his heart.

  Manda nodded but continued, “You’ll see for yourself that he’s well. It’s possible Leah truly did not know what would happen when Grey opened the heart. I think his halfmage magic made it go awry ...”

  Jackson was not so willing to give Leah Blazen the benefit of the doubt. “That may be, but the mark itself was deliberate. The Blazens have invented a new kind of magemark, based, I think, on those used by the Nanu tribes. Come, Manda. I need to see Grey. Aren’t you cold?”

  Manda shook her head. Her clothes were drenched, but she didn’t seem to feel the effects. “The water was warm, and so is the night,” she murmured.

  Jackson cast a warming ember into the air above them anyway. Manda walked beside him as they followed the path to the servants’ quarters. He frowned as the small, isolated house came into view. “I forced you all the way out here to the servants’ quarters, didn’t I? By bringing the Blazens to Coalhaven. What a mess I’ve made.”

  Manda gazed at the ground demurely. “I thought it best we not stay in the house or near the other servants. Grey has his magic under control, mostly. But when he’s upset, he lashes out. He’s very strong. His magic, I mean.”

  “‘Tis the nature of the halfmage magic, isn’t it? Strong, but often uncontrollable, and nearly limitless. That is one reason they are so reviled. People fear what they can do.” Jackson reached for the door handle, but before he could grasp it, his hand ricocheted back as though it had struck a barrier—an elemental barrier, cast from a water-power whose strength was far beyond any he had ever known. Stronger than Lige’s or Daniel’s. His ember snuffed out as icy fear chilled his blood. “The place has been magicked. Someone—”

  Manda’s hand clapped down on his arm. “I did it,” she said. “I put protections all around the cabin. He could not come to harm with my magic in place.” She traced one hand up and down the cabin door and then opened it. Jackson, dumbstruck, follo
wed her within.

  Grey lay tucked beneath a quilt on one of the two beds, sleeping so peacefully that Jackson suffered pangs of envy. When was the last time he had felt such rest?

  Jackson carefully pulled down the quilt and lifted Grey’s nightshirt. There was no magemark on his chest. In fact, his body and skin both appeared whole and hale, untouched in any way. “But you said Leah marked him and cut him on his chest?” Jackson gently tucked the boy back in and turned to Manda in the doorway, clasping and twisting her hands in front of her.

  “She—she did,” Manda whispered. “But I healed him and removed the mark.”

  Jackson froze where he stood. He could not have heard her correctly. “You removed a magemark?” he rasped urgently. “How? How did you remove it?”

  In the dim light Manda’s cheeks went crimson. “The magemark was essentially a burn, made from fire power. It wasn’t like a normal firemark, not a Roving Mark like the Nanu make. It was different. I was able to use my magic—”

  “You used water-power to quench it,” Jackson finished for her. His mind raced. “Manda, could you do it again? Could you--remove the mark Leah put on me?” He reached for her hand and led her back outside so they wouldn’t disturb Grey. Shutting the door, he returned his attention to her. She fidgeted with the still-dripping belt of her robe. “How did you remove it? I can see how you could stop the injury, the burn itself, but all the research says removing a magemark entirely is nigh impossible. Yet there was no mark, not even a scar on Grey.” Wild hope brewed in Jackson’s heart.

  “No, there—there wouldn’t be.”

  The note in her voice alarmed him; it shook with—fear? Tension? He gently grasped her chin, tilting her head until her gaze met his. “Manda,” he asked quietly, “what aren’t you telling me?”

  She stared at him. “I—nothing.”

  He glanced down at her mouth, so close to his, and his thoughts scattered. What would her lips feel like beneath his? “I don’t believe that for a second.”