Scion of the Sun

by Nicola Marsh

  It was the least of my worries as I tumbled into the stone shed, fumbled for the crystal bag, and shook out a few, picking the one that worked. I sat against the far wall, the one where the sun poked through the holes in the roof just right, and held the crystal to my forehead, closed my eyes, and waited.

  As the heat drained from my body, I opened my eyes to madness.

  The front door to the cottage was wide open. Mack and Oscar were arguing, their voices ear-splitting. Maeve alternated between wailing, knuckling tears, and shooting death glares at Joss, while Joss paced his mom’s kitchen, his face pale, his expression blank and his lips compressed, like a guy who’d withdrawn and shut off from the world. But his eyes told a different story. They blazed with a fury that took my breath away and I knew exactly who he’d be angry with: himself, for thinking he hadn’t done a good enough job protecting me.

  Joss was the first to notice me as I stepped through the front door and all I could think when we locked gazes was hold me.

  “Holly!” He flew across the room and bundled me in his arms, squeezing so tight I couldn’t breathe. Not that I minded. He smelled of the outdoors and apples and crushed oak leaves, familiar, comforting, and oh so delicious.

  He released me as the rest of the Sorority crowded around, assuming his stoic warrior face again. But I could see the emotion in his eyes, the muted anguish he’d gone through the last half hour, and now the relief.

  Emboldened by my recent brush with evil, I touched his hand. I’m okay. And really glad to see you.

  Before he could respond the others jostled me, hands urging me toward the dining table and pushing me to sit. Mack, Maeve, and Oscar wore matching expressions: shock, their mouths slack-jawed, repetitively blinking like they’d seen a ghost.

  “Hey guys, lighten up. You think I’m that easy to grab?”

  Their open-mouthed silence answered that particular question.

  “How did you … ?”

  Mack trailed off and I filled in the blank.

  Survive?

  As I glanced around at their concerned faces—Maeve still sniffling and swiping tears, though this time in relief, Mack staring at me in wonder, Joss’s tumultuous emotions barely hidden behind his warrior mask—I don’t know what freaked me out the most: the fact that even Oscar seemed seriously glad to see me, or that everything had been cleaned up so quickly, like my struggle with the bad guy never happened.

  The glass had vanished, the jagged edges protruding from the window had been removed, and there wasn’t a rock in sight. I could’ve imagined the whole thing if it weren’t for my throbbing hands and the residual adrenalin that had me twitchy as a bookaholic at the Mockingjay launch. I’d come back here to reassure the Sorority I was okay, to make sure Joss knew he hadn’t failed, but being here, where that creep had tried to get me, had me jittery enough to want to go after him and beat the crap out of him myself.

  “Give her a second,” Joss said, standing close, protective. What I would’ve given to have him here thirty minutes ago.

  “I’m fine,” I said, flashing him a grateful smile, which he acknowledged by brushing his fingers across the back of my wrist. Ooh … nice.

  “I was following instructions, hanging out in here, when a rock crashed through the window and that guy tried to grab me.” Touching my sore scalp, I winced. “I swear the creep ripped out half my hair. Anyway, he came in after me. I ran to my room and heard him coming down the hall.”

  Panic welled as I mentally relived the attack, but I subdued it. This wasn’t the time to wallow. This was the time to get even.

  “I was pretty much freaking out and was exhausted, so I leaned against the wall, and next thing I know, my forehead connected with the Arwen Triple Flame symbol and I woke up back at school.”

  Mack, astute as ever, pounced on one tiny detail.

  “That guy? You knew him?”

  Uh-oh, slip up number one. How many more would I make before I saw this thing through? Not in the mood for judgment, I ducked my head. “Kind of.”

  Oscar shook his head. “What does that mean?”

  Joss touched me again, a gentle nudge with his hand in the middle of my back, and that was all the encouragement I needed. I trusted him, and if he thought I should blab, I would. Truth time. “I saw him in a vision earlier today.”

  Mack frowned. “When?”

  “At the temple. When I asked for some time alone.”

  Maeve’s tears had dried and Oscar’s frown had returned. So much for the sympathy vote. Not that I needed it, but it had been nice to have them view me like a vulnerable human for once instead of a freak of nature they needed to tolerate to further their own ends.

  “I haven’t had a vision all week; then, at the temple, I had one.”

  “Of?” Mack prompted, his skin drawn tight over his cheekbones, the tension aging him.

  Before I could respond, Oscar jabbed a finger in Joss’s direction. “You knew about this?”

  Joss nodded, his jaw clenched, probably to stop from saying something he’d regret.

  Oscar scowled. “And you didn’t tell us because?”

  “Because we all know visions aren’t reliable. They could mean anything, be interpreted a hundred different ways,” Maeve chirped up, assuming the peacemaker role as usual, and I shot her a grateful smile.

  Oscar scowled. “He still should’ve told us. This isn’t a one-man show.”

  Mack held up his hands, palms down, placating. “Let’s get back to Holly’s vision.”

  I held Joss’s gaze for a long moment, hardly believing he could convey so much in a simple glance. I’m fine, Oscar doesn’t worry me, just tell the truth, I’m here for you.

  Buoyed by his silent support, I nodded and continued. “I saw Cadifor talking to this guy. His right hand man?”

  “Keenan?” Mack asked, and Joss nodded.

  “Cadifor was hiding something up his sleeve,” I said.

  Mack, Oscar, and Maeve leaned forward as one.

  “He had my picture.”

  They relaxed—obviously they’d expected a knife or poison or something equally dastardly—but not for long.

  “He knows who you are?” Oscar growled, shooting Mack an “I told you so” glare.

  I shook my head. “Not yet. He asked Keenan to find out who I was.”

  “And?” Mack prodded gently, astute as always.

  “He wanted something of mine.”

  They stiffened. Their simultaneous reactions would have been comical if not for the fact Cadifor now had exactly what he wanted: a piece of me. Several, judging by the gaping chunks of hair missing from my scalp.

  Maeve pointed to my hair and winced. “That looks painful.”

  “Not as bad as these.” I waved my bandaged hands around like war wounds, sucking in a breath when I accidentally bumped them together. False pride, Nan would’ve said, and clucked her tongue in a way that made me feel like a naughty five-year-old.

  “That explains why the glass is gone.” Mack jerked a thumb at the clean floor, then glanced at my bandages. “You cut your hands on the glass pieces?”

  I nodded, flexing my fingers to show they still worked.

  “Hell.” Oscar slammed his palm on the table and everyone jumped.

  Confused by their collective horrified expressions, I said, “What’s wrong?”

  Apart from the obvious, that Cadifor was one step closer to discovering my identity? And I had some serious bed-head going on.

  Mack glanced at Joss, who nodded. Mack sighed. “Along with your hair, Keenan must’ve collected all the glass.”

  “So he’s a clean freak? Big deal.” Silence greeted my smartass response, a silence that grew.

  They all glanced at Mack, so I did too. The longer they stretched this out, the higher my anxiety shot. On a scale of one to ten, my panic was a healthy eleven right about then. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Mack rubbed his temple, as if trying to stave off a blinder of a headache. “You cut your hand
s on the glass.”

  “Duh. Just say it—”

  “He now has your blood.”

  Creepy, but not catastrophic on its own. It wasn’t like he had a forensics lab down there or anything. “And that’s bad because?”

  “The more DNA he has of yours, the more powerful the divination spell he can use. With blood … ”

  Oscar swore again. “Blood intensifies the potential of the divination a hundredfold.”

  Whatever blood I had left congealed in fright. “But Joss said you don’t know if he’s any good at scrying. Maybe the stuff he saw in the last vision was a lucky guess. Maybe using my DNA will show him nothing.”

  Joss stepped forward and laid a steadying hand on the small of my back, that small yet profound touch scaring me more than anything “Unlikely,” he said. “Using someone’s blood in a scrying spell is like examining them under a microscope.”

  I didn’t like Maeve’s palpable pity while Oscar glared, his expression solemn.

  “So he’ll know who I am?”

  Mack nodded. “And he’ll know why you’re here.”

  “How? By getting a glimpse of me?” My voice rose, a tinge of hysteria audible.

  “Keenan would’ve seen the symbols in that room, told him you’d vanished, and he’ll know you’re the one.”

  “Crap.” It was creepy enough Cadifor had pieces of me and would soon know who I was, but to know who I really was? It was too soon. I needed time; time to learn every trick in the book to face off with a freak like him.

  Mack rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “It’s not all bad.”

  Oscar sniggered. “How do you figure that, Einstein?”

  I managed a weak smile at Oscar’s sarcasm.

  Mack glanced at me, his admiration encouraging. “You’ve mastered another task, becoming one with the Arwen Triple Flame and using it.”

  Four expressions immediately lightened as I sagged in relief. “At least something good came out of my scalping and bloodletting.”

  “Better than good,” Joss said, his tone warm with approval. “Being able to use the Triple Flame is hard to master. And if you used it to teleport … ”

  I’d discovered another way to move between the worlds. Way to go me. Speaking of tasks, something else occurred to me. “Hey, if I faced off one of Cadifor’s baddies, isn’t that another task?”

  Maeve shook her head, gnawing her bottom lip. “No, you need to banish one of the Underworld’s lesser creatures, not escape from it.”

  “There’s a difference?” Surely escaping from that madman should’ve counted for something?

  The Sorority nodded in unison. I didn’t want to delve further into what lesser creatures I’d be facing in the not-too-distant future, not while I was still in a funk after escaping the clutches of Cadifor’s crony.

  “It’s not safe for her to be here right now,” Joss said, folding his arms and facing down the others.

  Mack nodded. “Agreed.”

  “But what about tomorrow? Preparing for Beltane?” Predictably, Oscar wouldn’t lose sight of the ultimate prize: me finding Arwen before Cadifor did.

  “Crash course via textbooks back at school. Then we’ll do a quick run-through before the festival next week, okay?” Joss didn’t budge from his protective stance, and I shot him a grateful smile.

  Oscar scowled. “She needs more practical experience. Beltane’s a big deal. She needs to be ready.”

  “She will be.” Mack’s steely tone brooked no argument. “We’ll make do. We have to. We can’t risk her … ”

  “Dying?” I helpfully supplied.

  Joss rested his hand on my shoulder, solid and comforting. “We won’t let that happen.”

  For once, I bit back my first words:

  You almost did.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As the gang filed out, leaving Joss to work his magic on my forehead, I knew what I had to do.

  “Time to go.”

  I shook my head at Joss. “I need to do something first.”

  “What?”

  “Visit Bel’s fire.”

  “Are you insane?” He swept his arm wide. “You were attacked! Now you want to go traipsing through Eiros at night?”

  I pointed at the darkening sky. “Honestly? Hard to tell the difference between night and day with that permanent grayness.”

  “That grayness is courtesy of Cadifor getting closer to finding Arwen. And in case you’ve forgotten, we need you alive to prevent that from happening.”

  “Good point.” I gave him a moment to stew. “But I still need to see Bel’s fire.”

  He folded his arms, his cold warrior face more intimidating than his mini-rant. “No way.”

  While I bristled at his bossy attitude, a small part of me melted at his obvious concern. For him to lose his cool meant he cared, and the thought warmed me all the way down to my quivering soul. Tilting my head to one side, I smirked. “Didn’t you forget the part about over my dead body? Or is that in poor taste right about now?”

  “You’re pushing it.” He jabbed a finger in my direction, trying another frown on for size, but not before I’d seen his lips twitch. “And no, just ’cause you think you can make me smile doesn’t change my mind. We’re not heading down there.”

  Bad move, taking the high road with me. I could out-stubborn Nan—and that’s saying something. She held out on me getting a bellybutton ring for two years.

  “You want me to find Arwen before Cadifor does, right?”

  He clamped his lips tighter and nodded.

  “I need to find out what he knows, and if we head to the temple, maybe I’ll have another vision.”

  “I thought you couldn’t control them yet.”

  “Technically, I can’t, but when I felt that one coming on earlier today, I held it off until I got rid of all of you, then let it come. So my control is obviously increasing. Besides, I felt something down there.” How could I make him understand without sounding like a total dork? “A kind of pull, a connection, like Bel is there, watching out for me, wanting me to succeed.”

  His stoic expression softened. “He is, but right now I’m the one entrusted with watching you. And I almost—”

  He bit back the rest of his words and turned away. I snagged his arm and dragged him back to face me.

  And it was all there, every conflicted feeling: confusion, excitement, fear, anticipation, all the emotions twisting my insides like a pretzel; they reflected in his gorgeous face, like he was going through the same thing. But he was doing his damndest to protect me from it, trying to be the valiant warrior, and it made me want to hug him all the more.

  Unable to stop myself, I reached out and cupped his cheek, savoring the faintest prickle of stubble against my palm. “You didn’t fail. You can’t be with me twenty-four-seven.”

  Fleeting anguish darkened his eyes to indigo before he blinked, erasing it, covering my hand with his own, pressing it against his cheek. “But I have to be, can’t you see that?”

  “Why?” I whispered, afraid to break the intimate cocoon we’d created among all the madness.

  “You know.” He leaned forward ever so slightly and rested his forehead against mine, prolonging the sweetest moment of my life.

  I closed my eyes, cherishing the moment, imprinting this incredible feeling on my heart to give me strength to face what was to come.

  I don’t know how long we stood there but the prickle of heat on my forehead scared me—no way in hell I wanted to teleport back to C.U.L.T. right now—so I reluctantly eased back.

  “From now on, every second you’re here, I’m going to be your shadow.”

  After what we’d just shared, not such a hardship. “In that case, stay close while I make a quick dash down to the temple.”

  His frown slashed a deep furrow between his eyebrows. “You’re not going to give up on this, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  With a resigned sigh, he glanced out the window. “The Sorority will kill me if anything
happens to you, especially after the close call we had tonight.”

  Mentioning earlier events reminded me of something. “Why do you think Keenan came after me? In the bedroom? I mean, he had a good handful of hair, and the blood from the glass. Why chase me down?”

  Joss’s grim expression increased my apprehension. “Because a vial of blood would’ve been better than the droplets they’ll distill off the glass.”

  My stomach clenched. “O-kay then, glad I asked.”

  “Don’t you see? This is serious!”

  I spun away from him, not wanting him to see the fear in my eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I was the one who had to fend off that lunatic. I’m the one your precious Sorority expects miracles from. I’m the most ill-equipped person ever for this job, but I can’t shirk the responsibility because so many people are depending on me. And I’m the one supposed to master all these tasks on a time limit, find this stupid icon, defeat evil, and save the freaking world.”

  I was shouting now, my chest heaving like I was going to puke. I turned back and jabbed him in the chest. Hard. “So don’t you dare tell me how serious this is!”

  I battled tears, swallowing the great embarrassing sobs rising in my throat, my hands shaking. I would’ve bolted, but he bundled me into his arms and held me tight. Not some half-assed hug, a real good squishy one. He rested his chin on the top of my head as I released some of the pent-up fear and frustration bubbling up inside. I didn’t want to show weakness, didn’t want to cry, but my tear ducts had other ideas. I drenched the front of his T-shirt in five seconds flat.

  “Shh … ” He smoothed my hair, every straggly clump of it, the warmth from being in his arms slowly seeping into me, bringing calmness with it.

  Eventually I stilled and he eased back, tilting my chin up. Mortified, I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Holly?”

  “Uh hmm,” I mumbled, staring at his chest.

  “Look at me.”

  When I did, my throat clogged all over again.

  He cared about me.