Winter Fire (Witchling Series)

by Ford, Lizzy

  Dawn blocked Morgan’s vision. A bag was placed over Morgan’s head. She shook it, trying to get rid of it. Dawn tied it around her throat, tight enough to stay in place without strangling her.

  “Let’s go,” she ordered.

  Morgan hung helplessly over the Dark teen’s shoulder, nauseous again from the movement and her pain. They didn’t go far. She heard the sound of a vehicle running then the chill of stepping outside. She was tossed into what felt like a back seat. Her hands were cuffed once more, and someone propped her up against the door.

  Beck’s in love with her.

  Morgan started crying, unable to help it. She’d never felt this kind of ache, one that threatened to consume her. She fell into the fever world and passed out. When she finally awoke, the vehicle had stopped, but was still running. Otherwise, it was silent. Disoriented, she wondered how much time had passed. Her neck was stiff, indicating it was longer than a few minutes. She was shaking from the fever.

  Dawn’s strange muttering faded in and out of Morgan’s awareness.

  “…soul stone. We can send one of the Light witchlings to get it.”

  If someone answered, Morgan didn’t hear the voice. There was a pause, as if Dawn was on the phone, before she spoke again.

  “Oh. Like a vase. You’ll be the water in it. You won’t need me.” Dawn was pouting.

  Again the odd pause. Morgan closed her eyes again, not understanding.

  “No. Not Noah.”

  Morgan faded out again. Her whole body felt swollen. Her leg was numb.

  The door supporting her gave way and someone caught her as she tumbled out of the car. Someone hauled her through snow. She warmed herself with her fire magick, too weak to fight anymore.

  The person supporting her stood her on her feet. She almost passed out at the sudden pulse of pain. Her hood was removed, and she blinked. They were somewhere dark and stale, lit only by flashlights. The beam of one shone in her face. Morgan closed her eyes, grimacing.

  “Take a look, Morgan,” Dawn said.

  The light was removed from her face. Morgan opened her eyes and struggled to see through the spots the light left. She focused on where the nearest beam was aimed.

  Tomb.

  They were in a small mausoleum with stone walls and half a dozen stone sarcophagi. One was open, and the flashlight didn’t penetrate the dark space within it.

  Morgan tried to stand, but wasn’t able to. She felt the sudden need to run. The walls were too close, the air too heavy and old.

  “I want you to suffer like I have,” Dawn’s voice was quiet. “Beck did this to you by dragging you into his life. I want you to remember that every second you’re in there.”

  “Dawn,” Morgan started. “What are you doing? This is just insane!”

  “Insane. Whatever. Jason, put her in.”

  Morgan tried to struggle. Her movement was constricted by her cuffed hands and injured leg. Jason shoved his foot against her hurt leg. Morgan almost passed out. Her body was limp but her mind aware of what happened. She felt him lift her and maneuver her into the open tomb. She wasn’t the only one there; she felt the soft skin of someone else who was very much alive and assumed it was Summer. The girl didn’t stir, but Morgan heard her breathing.

  The sarcophagus was sealed. Morgan struggled out of her mind. Full blown panic lingered at the edges. With her good leg, she lashed out at the lid. It didn’t budge.

  She panicked. Morgan clawed at the ceiling, feeling as if the walls were closing in on her. Her fire magick was at a roar, the air of the coffin hot. The cold stone dug into her hip.

  A pulse of earth magick penetrated her frantic movements. It silenced the crackling fire and slid between the pain in her leg, and Morgan sagged, panting.

  “Morgan,” Summer’s voice trembled. “You have to remain calm.”

  Morgan sobbed. A trickle of cold air magick swirled through her. She could breathe suddenly and sucked in a few deep breaths.

  “Okay?” Summer asked.

  “Okay,” Morgan said in a whisper. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Head hurts.” Summer sounded disoriented.

  Fear surged.

  In. Out. She just had to follow Beck’s advice about meditating. Breathe and focus.

  Summer shifted. The tight quarters made it hard for them both to lie any way other than on their sides. The air witchling hugged Morgan, and in turn, she clung to Summer.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Summer was reminded of Decker, the night she barely saved him from the Darkness. Morgan trembled, her breathing ragged. She needed someone like Beck, the same way Decker needed Summer. Her fire magick was almost too hot for Summer to bear, and it tore through her. She struggled to balance it out with the air and earth magick. Unable to physically touch either element from inside the tomb, she was weaker than she expected.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” Summer asked. “Like how they put us in here?”

  Morgan drew a shuddering breath. She explained in halting words what she remembered from the time Summer was knocked out.

  Summer listened. Her head felt woolly, and she smelled blood. Alexa hit her hard. It wasn’t a surprise from Decker’s long-time admirer. Summer knew pain after months recovering from her plunge off a cliff. It kept her calm and sharp now.

  Morgan was in shock. Not all of her shaking was from the frantic fire in her blood. She fell quiet.

  Dawn meant to bury them alive. A chill swept through Summer. Not only that, but somehow, the Darkness had taken Dawn. She needed to warn Decker.

  Her air magick sought some crack in the stone around them that would connect her with the outside. There was none. They were sealed in.

  Morgan wasn’t able to handle that truth or the one that the more frenzied her fire was, the less oxygen was left for the both of them. The girl was barely hanging on. The thought of her air being suffocated made fear swirl through Summer.

  “Let’s try kicking the lid,” she suggested.

  “It’s too heavy.”

  “Let’s try, Morgan.”

  Morgan shifted onto her back. Summer wriggled into position with her, unable to see anything in the darkness of their tomb. Her feet met the stone above them.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Morgan said. Focused on trying to escape, she was calming.

  “One, two, three.”

  They both kicked. Nothing happened.

  “Again.”

  They did it again and a third time. The lid wasn’t budging. Morgan began to panic again.

  “Please, Morgan,” Summer urged. “You have to stay calm.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Summer shivered. She didn’t know why; Morgan was burning up and the space of the tomb was warm from their body heat.

  Was.

  Everything was suddenly cold, except for Morgan.

  “We have to try again,” Morgan said.

  “Okay.” Summer said. She counted down. After several more kicks, she stopped. “Take a break for a minute.”

  “No. We have to get out of here!”

  “Morgan, we need to conserve our strength and use it together.”

  Morgan gave a frustrated sigh. “Are we far from the school?”

  “I’m not sure. The resort is like, fifteen miles through snow, though. I’m not sure where we are now.”

  “Fifteen miles. In a storm …” Morgan was quiet, considering. “Maybe an hour?”

  “It really depends on the road. If they take snowmobiles, it’ll be faster. If not, it could take all night.”

  They fell quiet. Summer’s thoughts went to Decker. She was praying for him to find her without knowing how he could. Morgan was in-between, and Summer was Light. Decker wasn’t going to be able to find them easily.

  Beck should. But he wasn’t there. At first, Summer doubted what Dawn said about him being in a coma. It made sense, though, as to why he hadn’t come when his Light witchlings were in danger.

  She relax
ed, shivering. Her thoughts went to Decker. Gentle, strong, Dark. He was beautiful in a way only she saw. She ached for his hug and to gaze into his brown eyes. Thinking of him reminded her of how he was able to take the chill out of winter whenever they touched.

  “Why is it cold in here?” she whispered.

  Morgan said nothing for a long moment.

  “We have to leave, Summer,” she said. “We can’t be here when they come back.”

  “Come back? I’m pretty sure they’ve left us for dead.”

  “They’re coming back.”

  “How do you know?” Summer asked.

  “Something Dawn said when she threw me against the wall.”

  “That wasn’t her. That was the Darkness,” Summer said, hushed. “I’ve dealt with it enough to know.”

  “Then we better hurry.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Please, can we try to kick again?”

  “Yeah.” Summer suppressed her urge to question the girl, sensing her fear. “Ready?”

  They kicked again until Summer’s teeth rattled from the jarring efforts. The lid didn’t budge. Summer stopped, resting against the stone. It was even colder, and she felt tired.

  “Summer?” Morgan asked. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sleepy.”

  “You should probably try to stay awake. That girl hit you hard.”

  “Yeah,” Summer agreed. “Can we take another break?”

  “You’re not okay.”

  She heard Morgan shifting and felt a warm hand on her forehead. Fire magick dispelled the chill she felt.

  “Do you have any ideas on how to get out of here?” Morgan asked.

  “Not really; our air is running out.” The words sounded before she could stop them.

  Morgan gasped.

  “We’ll be alright for a little while,” Summer added hastily. “Long enough for Decker or Beck to find us.”

  “Beck isn’t coming. You heard Dawn.”

  “Decker will. He’ll always find me.”

  Morgan was crying again.

  “What happened?” Summer asked.

  “Nothing. Let’s just talk about something else. You have to stay awake and I need to be calm,” Morgan said.

  “Did you set the Christmas tree on fire?”

  “No. Never. Beck showed me that the trees have spirits. I can’t hurt them,” Morgan replied instantly.

  “I didn’t think you did.” Summer smiled. “Beck is a great person.”

  “He is. He deserves better than me.”

  “That sounds so familiar!” Summer said with a small laugh. “Decker still tells me the same thing. I tell him to shut up and kiss me. I’m with him because I love him. Beck feels the same for you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Morgan said sadly. “At least, if he did, he won’t now.”

  “Have a little faith in him. We went through a lot when Decker was fighting the Darkness. I know how strong Beck is. Whatever happened, he’ll know you didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  Morgan was listening.

  “You didn’t go Dark, which is the biggest sign that you didn’t do anything wrong,” Summer added.

  “You don’t have to use magick to hurt someone,” Morgan replied.

  “True,” Summer said, disturbed by Morgan’s sorrow.

  “Can our magick get us out of here?”

  “I don’t know. You might be able to heat the sealant or whatever they used on the lid,” Summer suggested.

  Morgan shifted. After a moment, Summer saw the glow around her feet, which were braced against the lid. Heat filled the small space again, and Summer inched towards one side of the crypt, away from the fire magick. Morgan’s fire was powerful and her control nowhere near the level of Decker’s. It was a dangerous mix, but at least it took the strange chill out of the air.

  The fire grew stifling, and air magick warned Summer that their oxygen was being consumed faster and faster to feed the flames.

  “Morgan,” she said when she couldn’t take any more heat.

  Morgan looked at her, her eyes visible in the glow of the stone. “Oh, god. Too hot.” She stopped immediately. “I’m not about to kill us to get us out of here.”

  Summer nodded, breathing deeply. She was almost nauseous from the sauna-like conditions and her throbbing head.

  “I’ll try kicking,” Morgan said.

  Summer closed her eyes, exhausted. She heard Morgan kick a few times with her good leg then stop with a sob.

  “Maybe if it gets cold enough, we can try kicking again,” Summer murmured. “Like the cheap coffee pots at the orphanage. They cracked if they went from hot to cold too fast.”

  Morgan was quiet. Summer started to doze.

  “Summer, stay awake,” the girl said quietly. “Tell me how you met Decker.”

  Summer smiled. She loved Decker. Something told her Morgan was one of the few people who wouldn’t freak out when she heard the history of their unusual relationship.

  “Well, I got here this past summer,” she started. “I’m an orphan, but Amber found me somehow and …”

  Morgan listened in silence as Summer told her tale: how she met the Turners, her trip down the path that led to her going Dark, her road to recovery. By the time she finished, the tomb was cold once more.

  “Wow,” Morgan said. “Beck said he had to watch his brother almost die.”

  “He had to choose between saving Decker and saving me. He chose me, because he knew I could save Decker.”

  “I can’t believe it. He’s incredible.”

  “They both are. It takes so much courage to do what they do.”

  “You, too,” Morgan added. “You faced the Darkness.”

  “Because I love my Decker.”

  Morgan was quiet. Summer sensed she was troubled once more.

  “I ran away,” Morgan’s words were almost too quiet to hear. “Beck was just laying there and I ran away. It’s my fault you’re here and Biji’s … Biji is in danger.”

  “Oh, Morgan, it’s not your fault! Dawn has been after me since I got here.”

  “Beck deserves someone stronger than I am.”

  Summer sighed, uncertain what to say to make Morgan feel better.

  “I think Beck chose you like I chose Decker,” she said.

  “I’m gonna try again,” Morgan said.

  Summer listened to her kicks, able to hear Morgan’s soft crying as well. The girl was devastated about whatever happened to Beck. Summer remembered that feeling well, but she didn’t know how to help someone else who felt it. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t ask about Beck. Morgan was in enough pain, and Summer feared losing what focus the fire witchling had.

  “It’s cold in here,” she murmured.

  “I know. I’m so sorry,” Morgan said between tears. “Beck is going to die and Dawn is going to win. We have to get out of here before they come back.”

  Summer didn’t know why Morgan thought Dawn was returning, but the air magick was warning her that they didn’t have much time. She joined Morgan and began to kick.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Biji’s world was getting darker. She curled up at the base of a tree. The snowstorm disoriented her. Somehow, she’d wandered away from the lake into the forest. Unable to see far in front of her, she had stopped to try to warm her hands.

  She couldn’t feel them or her feet. She huddled under the protection of long branches. She tried to dig out her phone again to see if it would work. Her hands weren’t moving. She was still, amazed at how silently the blinding snow fell. The only sound she heard was that of her breathing.

  She was sleepy. Her body was heavier than the branches of pine trees laden with snow. Air magick prodded her, but she ignored it. All it did was make her colder. Maybe, if she took a nap, she’d wake up and it would be light out. The storm would have passed, and she could find her way somewhere.

  A nap was all she needed. Her eyes drifted closed. She was comfortable, and all of a sudden, she no longer
noticed the cold or her frozen jeans. Her breathing slowed while her thoughts grew fainter, like whispers.

  Whispers that told her to wake up. Whispers that told her to move her body. Whispers she was too tired to listen to.

  Stay here, child. It’s not your time.

  The voice roused her. She didn’t want to listen. She just needed a nap. A short one, even, just enough to refresh her.

  Summer and Morgan need you.

  Fear surged within her, bringing with it awareness to the world around her. It hurt to try to wake up. Biji’s eyes wouldn’t open, and tears stung her cheeks. She struggled against her own body, unable to move even a finger.

  “Biji!”

  Was this voice in her head or not? She waited for it to come again.

  “Biji!”

  Answer.

  She struggled to draw a deep breath. Air magick surged into her, jarring her with its coldness.

  “Here,” she whispered. She barely heard her own voice, but the air magick caught the word and carried it for her.

  A moment later, a dark form shoved aside the branches under which she’d taken shelter.

  “You said you’d stay put.”

  It took a moment to process his words and another for her to realize who he was. Biji wanted to move then, so she could run away from him. But her body wouldn’t respond. The sleepiness began to fade, and she became aware of how cold she was once more.

  “Dammit, Biji. Maybe one day you’ll listen to me.” Noah crouched beside her. He was warm, so warm. Biji groaned as he lifted her. Cool water magick filled her, chilly but warmer than her air magick. She tried to push it out, not wanting anything to do with the brother of someone who wanted to hurt her friends.

  He set her down and moved away. Grimacing, Biji pulled her strength together and pushed her heavy body into a sitting position.

  “I’m not … going back,” she told him.

  “You’re half-dead, Biji. You’re in no position to argue.” He walked into the forest.

  Her gaze was too blurry to follow his movements. More tears squeezed from her eyes as she tried to move her hands. Noah returned and tossed down an armful of sticks and small logs. He swirled his hand in the air. Water magick pulled the snow to him. He pushed it away, into the forest, where it landed in a heap. The place at his feet was clear of snow.