His face tightens. “Is the world burning with any secret fires right now?”
“Yup. But I can’t let myself get distracted by it. You’ve seen what happens to me if I go too deeply into my firemagic, so I’m shielding myself from the outside world almost completely.”
“Are you telling me you’re filled with firemagic and merely controlling its effects?”
I nod.
“To the point where you could see into my spiritfire, if you wanted to?”
He sounds so disbelieving that I briefly close my eyes and breathe out slowly, lowering my shields a little. And then the whole world is blazing, but nothing burns as dazzlingly bright as the golden spiritfire of the young man—–
I close my eyes immediately, draw my shields back up.
Then I put both my feet on the floor and clench my hands.
Focus on my breathing.
I only look at him again when I’m completely sure I’m back in control. “Yes. I can see your spiritfire very clearly.” I smile at him. “It’s astonishingly beautiful by the way.”
And just like that, the old, hateful mask is back. “You had no right to look inside me.”
“But you asked!”
“We were discussing the strength of your magic. I didn’t give you permission to pry into my soul.”
“How was I supposed to know that? Seriously, Zig, throw me a bone here. You asked and I answered—–can’t you just trust me for once in your life?”
“It is not you I distrust; it’s the power inside you.”
“Really? Do I look very powerful to you?” I spread my arms wide, the gesture taking in myself, this cabin, the forest outside. “I’m trapped in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the clothes on my back. I can’t even leave this hut, or else I’ll enslave, and maybe kill, everyone I meet. I have no friends or family left, and the only people I know in a three thousand-mile radius believe it’s either their destiny to run a sword through me one day, or to make me pregnant with little dragon babies. So jeez, if I want to take a tiny bit of comfort from the fact that the only person in the world I can talk to right now without driving them insane seems to have a really beautiful pure spirit, just give me a break, okay?”
“You willfully misunderstand me. I was simply—–” He stops himself mid-sentence.
“What?”
“I think I might be picking a fight with you again.” The tension in his voice betrays how much this simple confession is costing him. “The truth is that your words made me deeply uncomfortable.”
“Not used to hearing nice things from pretty girls?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at him.
Then I remember.
“Shit! I’m sorry.” I raise my hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Honestly. Old habits and all that.”
He gives me one of those chilling silver glares. “It’s okay.”
“You don’t look like it’s okay.”
“I haven’t spent much time around girls before. It’s… an interesting experience.”
I cast a glance over the minimally furnished room where we’ve been sitting, in complete silence, for the last hour. “It’s usually a lot more interesting than this.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up the tiniest of fractions.
“Heaven forbid.”
Another hour later.
I’m now sitting on the edge of my bed, back straight, feet on the floor, eyes closed. Zig is leaning against the wall, quietly watching me. By now I’ve tried everything I can think of, and I’m so exhausted it feels as if I’ve got the flu: my muscles ache and my head is on fire and I’m sweating and shivering at the same time. And still I don’t stop. I won’t stop. I’m going to learn how to control my shine or die trying.
I squeeze my burning eyes closed, try to ignore the way my head is pounding.
I can do this.
In the end a loud knock on the door breaks my concentration. I open my eyes to find Jonathan right in front of me, looking more spectacularly gorgeous than ever, even if he does seem slightly paler than usual.
“Go away.” I fall onto my back and rub my aching head, my eyes, my neck. “I don’t have the strength for this now.”
“Me neither. You need to stop; you’re using too much magic.”
I open one eye. “I am?”
“Yes. Your shine is completely out of control; it’s drawing people to you like moths to a flame.”
I sit up again; he’s got my full attention now. “Are you serious? I’ve been trying to turn it off all this time!”
“Well, whatever you’re doing isn’t working. Your shine has gone into overdrive: even people without a drop of keeper blood can sense your presence from miles away. I’ve been hiding your exact location with a confusion spell, but I can’t keep it up much longer.”
It’s true, I realize as I take a good look at him. He does look tired.
Tired and smoking hot.
I put my face in my hands, closing my eyes against his scorching sex appeal. The fact that I’m even noticing it in my condition must mean his bloodmagic is completely off the charts.
Fantastic. Just what I need in my life right now.
“I’m serious. You need to do something. Or stop doing it. I can feel myself fading and I’m worried that I’ll have to go into a resting state soon.”
“Rest if you must. But I need to finish this.”
“You don’t understand. As soon as I drop this Enthrallment spell, everyone will know where you are. If you haven’t stopped shining by then, you’ll have a riot on your hands.”
“I’m trying to stop shining!”
“Try harder!”
“No.” Zig’s calm voice drops between us like a cool, hard stone. “I think I know what’s wrong. You’re practicing the same techniques you normally use to draw your magic to you. Which means that essentially you’re trying to use magic to dim your shine.”
“Which is ridiculous,” I say slowly, “because, in the first place, the shine is a side-effect of using magic.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake. You’re only realizing this now?”
Wow. I’ve never seen Jonathan look truly pissed-off before, and it’s a really good look on him. Without that ever-present charm he seems more masculine somehow. A little dangerous, maybe. Breathtakingly attractive.
I force myself to look away from his sexy, scowling face and turn to Zig again. “What I should do is stop using magic completely.”
“You think?” Jonathan’s sarcasm sends a jolt of pure lust through my body.
“So what do I do instead?”
“Stop concentrating.” Zig says. “Stop trying. Just be yourself.”
“I’m not even sure how to be myself anymore.”
Jonathan’s eyes on me are so hot I’m starting to sweat.
“Eating might help,” Zig says.
“Good idea.”
“Sex might help.” Jonathan says.
“Great idea.”
I turn to look at him, neither of us smiling. And then he reaches for me, his hand curling around my neck to yank me up—–
“Okay. That’s enough.”
Zig pins both Jonathan’s arms behind his back and frog-marches him out of the room.
“Wait!” I cry, “he’s got a point!”
But as soon as the door closes, I feel sanity return, abruptly, like a bucket of cold water to the face.
Damn.
I’m going to have to learn how to deal with Jonathan’s Seduction skills before I do something really stupid.
“Um, yeah, sorry about that,” I say when Zig returns a few minutes later, holding a plate in one hand. “His bloodmagic must be spiking through the roof. I literally couldn’t think straight.”
He waves away my apology. “I’m convinced he can’t help it. But that’s not the point. Pendragon won’t last much longer and he’s right. Without his Enthrallment skills we might have a real problem. Here. Have some food.”
We sit in silence while I wolf it down. It�
�s really good (some vegetarian enchilada-type thing) and makes me feel better almost immediately: my headache eases and my hands stop shaking and my body feels less tired and feverish.
“Thanks,” I say. “It’s weird, but food always makes me feel so much better.”
“It’s not weird.”
I note the curt tone, the crossed arms, the stern jaw. “Are you mad at me again?”
“No. Just frustrated by your seemingly endless ignorance.”
“You and me both,” I mutter while I take my last bite. “Is there something I should know about food? Something nobody has bothered to tell me?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Zig.”
He glares at me for at least a full minute before he answers. “The act of eating can be very useful to a juvenile because it anchors the human body to the physical plane of existence.”
“Oh. Okay.” I push my plate aside. “To be honest, I haven’t really come to terms with the whole ‘planes of existence’ thing yet.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
I laugh, surprised. “You’re taking to wise-assery like a duck to water! I’m almost starting to regret this truce between us.”
He doesn’t return my smile. “Soon both of us may regret this truce, and more deeply than you can imagine right now.” The dying dragon on his face twitches a few times. “But what’s done is done.”
There’s something so desolate in his expression, and I’m so tired and discouraged despite all the food I just ate, that I let my own guard down all the way. “Zig. I’m starting to panic here. I don’t think I can do this.”
“Yes. I realize that. But I might have an idea.”
Chapter 15
Although the ancient ritual of Pledging has its place within the hallowed customs of our Order, it is strictly forbidden for a Juvenile to take any part therein.
For not only may such an act increase a Juvenile’s power to the point where even the Fourth Protocols are rendered ineffective, but the very souls of those who make such a pledge may be imperiled forevermore.
From Elements of Knowledge: An Instruction into Selected Wisdoms of the Black Clan (1823); author unknown. Translated from the original French by Genevieve Bernard (2006)
It’s a full day later before I’m finally confident enough to leave my hut.
“You sure about this?”
“Yes.” Jonathan, who has rested for eighteen hours straight, sounds perfectly sure of himself. “I’m probably the only person in the world who grew up constantly surrounded by the shine, and I guarantee you’re one hundred percent clean of it.”
His words are reassuring, but even more reassuring is the fact that I’m clearly not sparking his bloodmagic any longer. Jonathan is just Jonathan again—–slick, mainstream attractive, bit of a douche—–and the overwhelming sexual attraction I felt towards him yesterday has disappeared completely. Thank heavens.
I look at Zig. “You’ll stay beside me the whole time?”
“Yes.”
Okay then.
I walk out the door with my heart in my throat. Should I really be going outside? The people waiting for me to faith-heal their diseases and disabilities aren’t keepers, which means that they have no way to defend themselves against my shine and no hope of ever getting cured if they get shine-struck. I have a sudden, uncomfortable recollection of the pathetically worshipful faces of Jacob, the security guard, and Paula, the housekeeper at the Pendragon mansion. What if that happens to hundreds of people? How will I even live with myself?
And the desperate people waiting to be Healed aren’t my only problem. I’ll have to deal with the Earthkeepers too, dozens upon dozens of them, people who’ve come from all over the world and are now waiting somewhere in the village, determined to pledge their allegiance to me.
I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.
When we get to the walkway that connects my hut to the rest of the village, I find myself wavering. “Guys. Maybe this is a bad idea.”
Jonathan lifts one eyebrow. “It’s certainly not a good idea.”
“We don’t have any other choice,” Zig says. “We can’t leave those people out there forever.”
“I know. But maybe we should wait until Gunn and the Green Lady come back. They’ll know how to handle this.”
“While I admire your loyalty to your keeper,” Jonathan says drily, “I think your faith in him might be a little misplaced. So far, he hasn’t struck me as knowing how to handle anything. And the Green Lady is certifiably insane. Plus, she hates you now.”
I decide to let his comment about Gunn slide. “The Green Lady hates me?”
“You do realize that you’ve broadcasted the exact location of her secret village to every keeper in the world, right? Even if she hadn’t been crazy, she’d probably have been pretty pissed at you.”
Oh. Yes. He might have a point.
But first things first. “I’m just worried –”
“We know why you’re worried,” Zig says. “But there are hundreds of people outside waiting to see you, and you can’t simply keep ignoring them. A lot of them are really sick, and there’s not enough food here, or sanitation, or any real way to shelter them all if the weather turns. People could die if you don’t act soon.”
“They could die if I act too.”
“Cholera will kill you far quicker than shine-sickness.”
“I guess.”
“Look,” Jonathan says, “it’s simple. Go out there, call on your firemagic and use your dragonvoice to order everyone home.” He snaps his fingers in a gesture he obviously learned from his father. “Easy. No mess, no fuss.”
“I know what I have to do,” I say. “And I’ll do it. It shouldn’t be too difficult. But it’s going to take a lot of magic, and if I can’t control my shine…”
I don’t have to finish my sentence. We all know what the consequences will be.
“I’ll do what I can.” Zig’s cool silver eyes give no guarantees.
“So will I.” Fortunately, Jonathan looks far more confident.
“Okay then.” I try to ignore the dull feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. “Let’s do this.”
I just hope I’m not about to make the biggest mistake of my life.
The plan was to deal with the sick people on the riverbank first, but when we get to the clearing at the center of the village, we find all the Earthkeepers already assembled there and waiting for me, their faces alight with anticipation. At a quick estimate I’d say there are about eighty people of all ages and races gathered in the clearing, and it’s only when the nearest woman starts speaking to me in rapid Portuguese that I realize we might have a problem.
I smile at her before clearing my throat slightly and raising one hand into the air. Immediately, everyone falls deathly quiet.
“Hello,” I say, pasting a polite smile onto my face. “Does everybody here understand English?”
There are whispers, some nods, some frowns, general confusion.
I try again. “Please raise your hand if you understand English.”
About half the group raises their hands, and about a dozen more when I repeat the question in Spanish.
I give Zig a panicked look. “How am I supposed to order them to leave me alone if they can’t understand a word I’m saying?”
A boy steps forward. “I translate for my family.” The moment he smiles, I recognize the young guide who led us to the underwater cave.
“It’s the Green Lady’s son,” Zig says quietly.
Oh. Wait. I suddenly remember a piece of information I was given: there are twenty-one Earthkeepers living in or near this village, all of them descended from trueborn sons.
“My mother encourage me knowledge English special for the purpose of your long-expected visitation,” the boy says with a wide, white smile.
I give him a dubious look, not sure how accurately my message will get across. “You’ll translate my words into Portuguese?”
“No.” Another bright smile. “Mother tongue.” He mentions the name of his own language, the sound so unfamiliar to my ears that I’ve no idea how you’d even spell it phonetically.
“Okay. Thanks.” I look around for help from Zig or Jonathan, but neither of them seems to have any brilliant ideas. “So, what I’ll do is I’ll speak to you all in English first. Then Spanish.” I look at the boy. “And then you can translate my words for your family.”
Another nod. Another bright smile.
For the next half an hour or so, we struggle along like this. I try to tell the keepers with their serious, hopeful faces that although I’m deeply honored by their wish to pledge their allegiance to me, I am no Lady of the Order, and I do not want or need their solemn oaths. They counter with arguments in three different languages, all based on terrifying concepts like “sacrifice” and “loyalty” and “forever.”
In the end I lose my patience with them. Or maybe I just lose my nerve, because no matter how clearly I try to explain that their “sacrifice” and “loyalty” are completely unnecessary, they just don’t seem to get it.
And so I close my eyes and draw my firemagic to me.
Not a lot—–I don’t want to lose myself just yet.
Just enough to make sure that everyone here is what they claim to be.
When I open my eyes again the world is burning, not just the people in front of me but the forest itself: a flashing, flaming, fiery, glowing, flickering shimmering miracle of sheer life.
“Jess.” Zig’s voice is a cold warning.
I close my eyes again, draw my shields tighter around me. Wait for my heartbeat to slow.
When I’m ready, I don’t open my eyes fully. Instead I peer at the people in front of me through narrowed lids, as if by keeping my eyes half-closed, I can keep the magic inside me half-closed too.
And maybe I can. Maybe that’s how it works.
Because the next moment I’m only focusing on the people in front of me, the life of the forest nothing but a glorious warm glow in the background.
Seventy-three spritifires.
Treasurekeeper Page 15