He took a breath, listening to the rain. Water took things with it as it flowed, a constant change. His village never really changed, maybe because there was so little water.
A gust of wind rattled the windows, and Elise jumped from her place by the table. “Whew, loud. I guess we’re not going outside today. It’s a good day to take a nap. Lila says summoning always makes her sleepy. Is Kristoff sleeping? I know he’s powerful, so maybe he doesn’t need to, but I can’t imagine it’s not tiring. I think I’ll nap too—Lila wants to work with me tonight after the storm stops and see if I can sense the temperature change and how far it extends.”
Rowen almost shrugged, then just nodded in response to the only question she had actually asked. The steadily pounding rain was lulling, making it hard to hear anything else. At home, rains had been cause for celebration, everyone rapidly filling as many buckets and jars as they could and making sure as little water was lost as possible. Here, rain apparently made everyone as listless as a heat spell.
Everywhere, he supposed, life revolved around the weather. He listened to the rush of the rain, and above, sensed the heat spell slowly disappear.
HE DIDN’T remember falling asleep, but his dreams took him far away, into the pencil sketch Elise had shown him but with far more detail. The ocean lapped behind him like it had while learning to swim with Kristoff, rushing onto a beach of small stones instead of sand. The water was cold, so cold it burned, and Rowen kept away, retreating toward the heat of the rocks.
Buildings stretched out in his vision, like none he had ever seen. Bigger than his home in his village, bigger than the house he lived in now, bigger even than the records hall. They were hewn from a white stone that glowed in the sun mixed with red wood from trees that towered in the distance. Lines traveled between them of tiny rocks blended together, and enormous animals pulled people in carts down the paths they formed, like in one of the paintings he had seen. He could see it all as though he was flying with Kristoff. The air was warm, a cushion that kept him anchored in place. It pushed away the cold from the sea and the cold that promised to come down from the mountains that were a faded purple in the distance.
Rowen shivered, the air not warm enough. He reached out with his mind, wanting to explore, wanting to see how these sketches had come to life. The air swirled around him in waves of heat like in his village. Then he realized it was a dream, and someone’s voice punctured it.
“Hey. Get off the damn couch,” Volkes demanded.
Rowen jolted, eyes snapping open. “You didn’t even do any work today,” Volkes said. “And if you want to nap, do it in your room.”
Rowen shook his head, half in disagreement and half to shake away the residual sleepiness. He wanted to draw the strange things he had seen, and he knew that at some point Kristoff would fetch him for more lessons. How much of the day was gone? He wasn’t hungry, so he couldn’t have fallen asleep for that long.
Volkes sat next to him on the couch, spreading his legs apart and taking up much more space than he really needed to. “So, did you sense my power today?” he asked. “Not bad, considering.”
Rowen just nodded. He wished he could have sensed Kristoff’s more easily. Maybe the heat really had been Volkes’s storm, and as Kristoff’s power had drawn the stronger storm in, the small lightning storm had been pushed away.
“I knew you’d be lightning. I even told Kristoff so.” Volkes lifted his head. “But you’ll have a long way to go to catch up to me.”
Rowen wasn’t sure how to respond. The last time they had interacted, he had pushed Volkes away. He eyed him warily before picking up his pencil, which had rolled onto the floor. If Volkes wanted to talk about his studies, that was fine. But Rowen didn’t want anything else.
How many years did it take you?
“Let’s see if you can do math.” Volkes smirked. “I was twelve when they brought me here. I’m eighteen now.” Volkes was younger than him. “How many years was that?”
Rowen didn’t want to humor him, and he didn’t like his tone, but he held up six fingers anyway.
“Good. Since you apparently couldn’t even sense anything when they brought you here, you’ll likely take even longer. You’re obviously no hurricane.” Rowen frowned. Neither was Volkes, clearly. And he didn’t think it would take that long. At least, he hoped not.
How did they find you? he wrote.
“Like I told you before. It was soon after I earned my place in the tribe. When I got mad, I called lightning. They found me really quickly after that started and took me away. It’s dangerous to let someone do that. Isn’t that how they found you?”
Rowen shook his head, thinking of Kristoff’s first question, back when he had been healing in the cave. He had never in his life used any magic that he could tell. Even if he could sense the weather, like he had sensed the heat from Volkes’s lightning, controlling it was still way beyond him. He couldn’t imagine it. The only reason Kristoff had found him was because he had been sacrificed.
“Don’t want to talk, huh?” Volkes asked when Rowen made no move to write.
Rowen nodded. He wasn’t going to tell Volkes about it. It was none of his business. He wondered if Volkes’s tribe had sacrificed people to storms too.
Rowen was going to write and ask Volkes about his home when the other man leaned in and grabbed Rowen’s chin, turning his head. Rowen was too stunned to react immediately and allowed it when Volkes kissed him.
But only for a second. He shoved Volkes away, hard, and gave a firm shake of his head.
“Dammit, Rowen,” Volkes growled. “Don’t I get a reward for my work today? Do you like men or not?”
Rowen huffed an annoyed breath. He nodded.
“Then why the fuck are you saying no?” Volkes demanded.
Rowen bit the inside of his cheek. He could write a lot of things but opted to shrug instead.
“You’re the only eligible man around, and you’re still being icy?” Volkes’s eyes flashed, and Rowen wondered if icy was an insult. “Kristoff’s not going to fuck you, you know.” The words cut. “He knows I fucked you. I told him. He doesn’t care.” Rowen blinked, his stomach twisting. “And believe me, besides him, there’s practically nobody else.”
Rowen shrugged again, his body tense. In his village, he had long ago given up. Lucas had died, and Rowen couldn’t even speak. Now he had Volkes, but he didn’t want Volkes, and he couldn’t have Kristoff.
But it wasn’t like he needed someone.
“Say something. Or, fuck, write something. You’re going to be alone, you know that? No one is going to go after someone who can’t even fucking talk. You may as well let me fuck you. You know I can make you feel good.”
Rowen’s face heated. Sometimes that was true. Other times, like when Volkes had shoved himself down his throat, it wasn’t.
But he didn’t like being pressured. That just wasn’t how things were done. He had been with Volkes once, and Volkes acted like he owned him ever since. If someone said no, it should be respected. He picked up his pen and began to write.
Volkes grabbed his wrist. “You’re not going to fucking tell me no again, are you?” His grip tightened, as if trying to keep Rowen from writing.
Anger coiled in his stomach. This was exactly why he had stopped him the last time. Pushy water stealer.
“Ow!” Volkes shrank back, blue eyes wide, cradling the hand that just been around Rowen’s wrist. “Dammit!”
Rowen’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t done anything.
“All right, I get it. I’ll never fucking touch you again—not even if you want it. Learn to control your fucking magic.” Volkes stood, kicking the table and sending it the ground with a heavy thud. The papers and maps scattered across the floor. “Enjoy being alone.”
“What was that?” Sharon came in as Volkes stalked out, her eyes going wide at the mess. “Let me guess. Volkes?”
She turned, but Volkes didn’t respond, heading out the door into the rain. “That’s a yes
,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
Rowen sighed and got up, picking up the papers and table. Sharon helped, and soon enough the room was back in order.
“I don’t know how he’s going to be a Storm Lord,” Sharon said. “He’s furthest along ability wise, but he doesn’t have the right attitude.”
Rowen nodded. Volkes scared him a little. Someone that pushy couldn’t be trusted. It was only more obvious now.
He couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that Volkes might be right about his being alone. Kristoff didn’t want him, and he didn’t want Volkes. Maybe there would never be anyone else. And it wasn’t like it would be easy for him to ask.
But at least some good had come out of it. He had used magic, somehow. And it had gotten Volkes off him.
He just wished he knew what he had done. As soon as he got the chance, he would ask Kristoff about it.
Chapter 25
KRISTOFF NEARLY crashed into Volkes on the way to Rowen’s house, the other man walking in the rain without an umbrella and staring at the ground, shoulders hunched. The blond cursed, splashing water as he dodged out of the way. “Watch it!” he shouted, before he paused, eyes widening, when he saw Kristoff.
Kristoff wanted to let it go and keep walking, but Volkes paused, shouting over the rain. “You need to teach Rowen faster. I told you about his magic—he burned me again. I’m getting tired of it.”
“What did he do?” Kristoff moved closer, but he couldn’t make out any obvious marks on Volkes. It would be an electrical burn if Rowen had summoned lightning by accident at worst, or at best a painful static shock. “You look fine.”
“I don’t fucking know. He just burned my hand when I touched him.”
“You mean he shocked you.” Damn. Kristoff’s mind raced. There were two kinds of students. Some had to be eased into sensing the heat spells and how to cast out their perceptions, usually the ones who came in young, like Benjamin. They never lost control of their powers when they finally fully manifested because they were taught from an early age how to manage them. The second were overly powerful students, like him, or ones who were found later when their powers fully developed, who would summon rain or windstorms without even trying. They were taught control first and foremost. Kristoff thought he had time with Rowen, but apparently being such a late starter meant his powers developed faster too.
He should have foreseen that. It made sense.
“I know what a shock feels like,” Volkes snapped over the rush of a gust of wind. “Touching him was like touching hot sand. He’s got less control than a child.”
Kristoff understood Volkes’s frustration, but he didn’t have to answer to a student, even one who had advanced as far as Volkes had. “Go to the infirmary if you need too,” he said. “And keep in mind for the future that new students, both young and old, often have trouble with their power. You should know that by now.”
Volkes snarled something unintelligible, but Kristoff didn’t stick around to make him explain it. He had to get to Rowen. He’d wanted to practice more perception, to see if Rowen could sense it as the storm broke apart in the evening, but it seemed now he would have to change his plans.
When he got to the house, Sharon answered the door. “Hello, Kristoff, here to see Rowen? He’s in the living room.”
“Thank you. Have you, perchance, noticed Rowen losing control of his powers at all?”
Sharon raised one eyebrow. “I don’t believe so.”
“All right. Thanks.” Kristoff entered the living room, noting that a few books had been taken down and set out on the table, where Rowen studied them. One stray piece of paper lay under the couch.
Rowen nodded at him when Kristoff entered, but his gaze slid away soon afterward. Odd.
“Rowen,” Kristoff said. “How are you doing?” Behind them, Sharon headed upstairs, and Kristoff was grateful for the privacy. “I ran into Volkes on the way here.”
Rowen’s eyes widened, his shoulders cording with tension, and Kristoff took a seat next to him. “So what happened?”
Rowen looked down, letting out a breath in a little sigh. He reached for the papers on the table, then looked back to Kristoff before beginning to write.
I got angry at Volkes.
“And?” That was wrong. It felt like urging on a child, but Rowen was no child. The other man stared at him, searching as though trying to figure out what Kristoff meant, so he elaborated. “Did you use magic on him? Were you aware of that?” Maybe Volkes was mistaken, but for all his obnoxiousness, it was hard to miss it when the air changed suddenly because of someone else’s manipulation, and he was well trained. His lightning storm this morning had proven that.
I do not think I used magic.
So Rowen was unaware. Great. That made it harder. “Can you tell me what happened? Maybe we can figure out….” He trailed off as Rowen’s face went red. Volkes’s words came back to him. His body gets hot. Suddenly Kristoff could guess.
“Are….” Kristoff swallowed down embarrassment. “Are you sure you were angry at him?” He had never heard of anyone losing control due to arousal, but that too was a strong emotion. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
But Rowen gave a firm nod. Okay. Kristoff could work with this.
“What did Volkes do or say to anger you?” Rowen’s mouth twisted, and he looked away, then back at Kristoff. He put up one hand and held it out, as if asking for something, and when Kristoff didn’t respond, he sighed and wrote, Does it matter?
Kristoff blinked in surprise at Rowen’s sudden attitude. Or maybe it was a legitimate question. It was hard to tell without tone, although Rowen looked at him plaintively. “It does,” Kristoff said. He felt his own face heat as he spoke. “Don’t worry, Rowen. You can tell me anything. I know you and Volkes have been… intimate. It’s al….”
Rowen had drawn a giant 1. Then he underlined it.
“One?”
Rowen nodded.
“Once?”
Another nod.
The pieces began fitting together. “Do you want to be intimate with Volkes?” A headshake. “And he was pressuring you, wasn’t he?” A nod and a thin-lipped smile.
He is like a water stealer. Like
He stopped writing, then crossed out the second word, his gaze distant for a second. “Like what?” Kristoff asked. Rowen shook his head.
Kristoff couldn’t help but feel victorious. Rowen didn’t want Volkes. That meant….
That meant nothing. Kristoff was still his mentor, and he still had a job to do. “All right, Rowen. I’m glad you can stand up for yourself. But if you truly are losing control of your magic, we need to learn together how you can control it.” Kristoff thought back years, to his own childhood and Talia’s lessons. The memories were hazy, fogged with temporal distance, but he remembered staring up at a rainstorm, the drops falling into his eyes and Talia’s soft words.
“You see? Your daydreams are causing rain in reality, Kristoff. You must keep your mind and emotions in check.”
He smiled at the memory. He hadn’t known what in check even meant.
“The first thing we have to do is figure out what’s causing the loss of control.” Rowen tilted his head. “Yes, we know its anger. Sorry, that was poorly worded.” Kristoff touched the stone around his neck, idly playing with it. “We need to know exactly what sort of thing you’re doing to the air around you when you get angry. If you can do it again, I can help identify it, and I can help you recognize what you’re doing. Does that sound all right?”
Rowen blinked at him, then wrote, You want me to be mad?
Kristoff laughed. “Well, I suppose so. But not here. We’ll go to the beach again, where any little storms you may bring in won’t cause any harm. You’ll just have to think of something that may make you angry.” It was hard to imagine anger right now. Finally, Rowen was showing his abilities, and Kristoff would get to sense them. He knew Lorana and Marin were wrong and Rowen was a true Storm Lord. Things were moving fast
, but at least there was something Kristoff would be able to respond to, instead of just Rowen’s silence and then trying to understand what he meant when he wrote things down. Things always got easier when a student could begin using magic. Maybe he could learn quickly and graduate within a few years. Then he wouldn’t be a student, and their relationship could become something else.
He knew he was daydreaming again, just as he had as a child, his mind wandering down paths he couldn’t predict. But he wanted it to be true. He wanted Rowen to be successful, to help him help his village, to—
Banging on the door derailed his thoughts, and Rowen dropped his pencil in surprise. That wasn’t the weather, and Volkes wouldn’t knock on his own door.
Rowen met Kristoff’s eyes and then jumped up, opening the door before the two bangs could become three.
“Kristoff.” It was Lissa. “Lorana needs you to go to Linland and dispel a fast-moving heat spell. It swept down from the mountains and settled over a city.”
Kristoff clenched his teeth. There was some anger—or at least annoyance. “Right now?”
“Well, first go the governor’s hall. But yes. Right now.”
Damn. “Wait here, Rowen,” Kristoff said. “I’ll arrange something for you this evening. Looks like I have to work.” Again.
“THE HEAT spell is located over the Linland coast. It settled over the city in the past few hours, sending colder air spinning out to the north and west. It’s larger than usual and near the ocean, so you should have no trouble, but time is of the essence. I don’t like it when heat spells move, and in summer it could get bad.” Kristoff stared at the map, where Lorana had drawn a red circle marking the location. “Blackthorn is one of the most populated cities in Linland. Dispel the heat. Remain there overnight to make sure it’s done.” She pushed silver across the table—Linland currency, stamped with the high priest’s visage. “Then return.”
The Storm Lords Page 19