“Ah, Allyn, Kendyl,” Graeme said. “Thank you for coming. Liam, let our guests have a seat.”
“It’s okay—” Allyn started, but Liam stood with a huff and stepped aside. He leaned against Graeme’s bookcase, resting his foot on the edge of the desk. Graeme promptly knocked his shoe away with the back of his hand. “Thank you,” Allyn said, sitting down, Kendyl beside him.
Liam responded with a flick of his hand.
“You gave a lovely speech today,” Graeme said. “It must have taken a long time to prepare.”
Kendyl shook her head. “It just came to me.”
“Impressive,” Graeme said, his eyebrows raised. “You’re a gifted speaker.”
Nudging Allyn, Kendyl said, “It runs in the family.”
“Your brother might have told you that he and I had something of an agreement. He would help me discover why Lukas wanted you, and in return, I would help him get you back.”
“He did.”
“Then he probably told you we never discovered why Lukas was after you.”
Here it comes, Allyn thought. He’s going to say he fulfilled his end of the bargain and kick us out.
“Without knowing why he attacked you, we have no way of knowing if he’ll do it again. That, among more recent developments, is why I think you two should stay under our protection.”
“What?” Allyn asked, shocked.
“Lukas was right,” Graeme said. “You are able to wield, and Kendyl likely has the ability, too. That alone makes you a target. More than that, you’re a danger to yourself and those around you. You need to be surrounded by people who understand that danger and can help you master it. Wielding requires restraint. Control. And I’m offering a safe environment for you to master your abilities. One that will allow you to nurture them.
“In return, I need to know how you are able to wield. How did Lukas know of your abilities? And what is the nature of your magic? It’s something different, something new. Our numbers are declining, yet here you stand, something unique. How is this possible? Help me answer these questions, and you’ll have a safe home here with us.”
“We accept.” Kendyl extended her hand.
Allyn shook his head. Kendyl always jumped first and then wondered how deep the water was.
“This decision needs to be made by both of you.”
Allyn leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. “While I’m not as quick to act as my sister, I agree with her.”
“Excellent,” Graeme said, sinking into his chair.
He’s relieved. He thought we were going to run. He wanted us to stay.
Liam looked annoyed.
Did he just roll his eyes?
“After our discussion with Nyla, I had Liam conduct a search looking for twins within the magi history,” Graeme said. “His search hasn’t yielded any results, but I promise to keep looking.”
Looking guilty, Liam glanced at his father from the corners of his eyes.
“You still think he’s after us because we’re twins?” Allyn asked.
“I do,” Graeme said. “If you were a part of a forgotten hereditary line, he’d go after your other family members—cousins, aunts, uncles. Instead, he’s focused solely on you.”
“There are other twins,” Kendyl said. “Hundreds of them in the city alone. Why not go after any of them? Why continue to pursue us?”
“He’s already hedged his bets on you,” Graeme said.
“He’s not going to stop, is he?” Allyn asked.
“No. He’s not.” Graeme sighed and stood to look out the window. The glass reflected his tormented expression. He had been a different man since the assault on Lukas’s compound—and Lukas’s escape. After the desperate attack that nearly killed Kendyl, Lukas had fled the compound and lost Graeme and the rest of the McCollum magi in the dark streets of the industrial district. And without Jarrell’s inside information plotting his every move, Lukas had become a ghost. “You’re a symbol of power to him. Capturing you means taking you from me and winning a battle against his greatest adversary. It adds credibility, legitimacy to his new Family. But most importantly, if he proves you can wield, he proves he was right and that the magical world has changed. That the old ways are outdated. Extinct.” He bowed his head.
Allyn couldn’t imagine what Graeme was going through. He knew how important tradition was to him. To Graeme, preserving the past was the most powerful tool in preserving the future, but because of Allyn, he questioned that past, and his future was unclear. Graeme didn’t fight Lukas out of spite or to keep him silent. He fought him because Lukas’s methods were immoral, but it put Graeme in an awkward position. He had held on to his beliefs, enforced them, and fought for them. And now he would fight to protect the living embodiment of his mistakes. It was an exercise in humility that would have destroyed a lesser man.
But how much of this is about us? Allyn wondered. If Lukas can use us to gain legitimacy, why can’t Graeme? His family has splintered and is doing so again. He has a lot to gain by keeping us here and being the one to discover a new kind of magi.
“We do have one advantage,” Graeme said. “Lukas suspects you can wield, but he doesn’t know you can.”
“What are you saying?” Kendyl asked.
Allyn took his face in his hands, rubbing his cheeks. “He wants me to kill Lukas.”
Kendyl’s mouth hung open, but nothing came out. She tapped her teeth together—a nervous habit.
Even Liam stirred uncomfortably.
Graeme turned to Allyn. The soft-orange glow of the pyre reflected in his eyes. “Or distract him long enough so I can.”
“What of healing the splinter?” Allyn asked. “Reuniting the Family?”
“An infection needs to be stopped before the wound can be stitched back together,” Graeme said. “Until Lukas is gone, the wound will fester, the splinter will deepen. Only when he’s gone can the healing process begin.”
“My brother isn’t a killer,” Kendyl said.
“He was prepared to kill for you,” Graeme said. “Everyone is a killer if driven far enough.”
“What do you want me to do?” Allyn asked. “Cuddle up next to him? Tell him what he wants to hear? Earn his trust and stab him in the back?”
“No,” Graeme said, either unaware of or ignoring the dash of sarcasm in Allyn’s voice. “We’re beyond that. It might have worked before we rescued Kendyl, but not now. Besides, I wouldn’t know where to find him.”
“You don’t think he’s returned to the Hyland Estate?”
Graeme shook his head. “It’s the obvious move.”
“Which Family stands to gain the most by sheltering them?” Allyn asked.
“Any of them.”
“How many live in the area?”
“Enough to make our search nearly impossible.”
“You’ve enlisted my help,” Allyn said. “At some point, you’ll need to trust me.”
Graeme looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“You swipe away my questions only to answer them with something vague and hazy.”
“I apologize.” Graeme returned to his desk and sat down. “It’s not my intention. It’s an old habit.” Graeme hesitated before continuing. “There is a large concentration of Families in the Northeast, but our greatest population lies here in the Northwest, around the fringes of larger cities like Portland, Seattle, and Vancouver, B.C., primarily.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say that the Northwest is more accepting of alternative lifestyles.”
Allyn laughed. He knew what Graeme was alluding to. Portland was an interesting mix of eclectic personalities, making it the alternative capital of the world. People there didn’t just accept diversity. They celebrated it. Flaunted it. Reveled in
it. The backs of cars, old and new, luxury and clunker, proudly displayed Keep Portland Weird bumper stickers. The magi Families were hiding in plain sight.
“There are four other Families within fifty miles of the Portland area,” Graeme said. “And another six if you double that.”
“Including the Hylands?”
Graeme nodded.
It was less than Allyn had expected, but more than he’d hoped. “You’re right. We won’t be able to find him, so we make him come to us.”
“How do we do that?” Liam asked quietly.
Liam had been so quiet that Allyn had almost forgotten he was still in the room. “We appear weak.”
“That shouldn’t be difficult,” Graeme said. “We are weak.”
“You’re going to let them leave, aren’t you?” Allyn asked. “Those who want to?”
“Yes.” Graeme’s voice was heavy. “Limbs need to be trimmed back from time to time, to protect the tree.” He didn’t seem to believe his own words. He wasn’t pruning the tree. He was cutting it in half.
“Where will they go?” Kendyl asked.
“It’s not my place to ask.”
“How will they get there?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not going to help them?”
“I’m letting them decide for themselves. That’s all the help I can give.”
“They’re alone with nowhere to go without protection. If something happens to them, it’s your fault!” Kendyl said.
“Their blood is already on my hands,” Graeme said softly. “This is protecting them.” Graeme’s decision to let the defectors leave meant he was facing another splinter. It left them weak in numbers and vulnerable enough to make them question their leader.
“That’s it!” Allyn said. “A splinter. Lukas is a predator. We need to play the part of the wounded animal. Lure him to us.”
His face hard, Graeme leaned forward over his desk. “I won’t use my Family like that.”
“They won’t be in any danger,” Allyn said. “They’re leaving and will be long gone by the time Lukas arrives. But the people fleeing are families—mothers and fathers with children, not the people who fought to save Kendyl. For this to work, we need someone significant, someone indispensable to lead the splinter.”
“Jaxon,” Liam said.
Graeme was silent.
“He wouldn’t really be splintering off,” Allyn said. “We’d orchestrate a public argument between the two of you. Afterward, he would storm off and lead a group of followers away, only to lie in the weeds until Lukas takes the bait. It’s the type of thing that would give us the advantage.”
“That’s a desperate plan,” Graeme said. “You would bring Lukas here. If we lose, we lose everything.”
“It’s only a matter of time until he’s bold enough to attack the manor. This way, it happens on our terms. This way, we can prepare.”
Graeme tapped the top of his desk with his knuckles. “I’ll have to think on it.”
“Think fast,” Allyn said. “It needs to look like Jaxon is leaving with the others. Leading them.”
Deep in thought, Graeme didn’t respond. His eyes had already glazed over.
Allyn ducked just as the tree exploded into splinters. Pain shot up his arm as wisps of flame kissed his flesh.
He’s trying to kill me! He darted through the forest, using the pine trees and foliage for cover, running in a perpetual state of self-preservation with his hands and arms held in front of his face to protect his head. Fireballs and blasts of ice slammed into trees all around him. A concussion of air detonated against his back, sending him tumbling face first over the ridge. His tumble came to an abrupt stop against a fallen tree. The rotten trunk was soft, but the impact shot pain through his shoulder.
Wincing and rolling his shoulder to make sure it wasn’t broken, Allyn stood and looked up the embankment. Jaxon watched from the top. What the hell is he doing? Graeme had told him to meet Jaxon in the forest for a training session, but Jaxon hadn’t been there when he had arrived. And when he did show up, he’d attacked Allyn. Jaxon stepped away from the ridge and vanished. Great.
Allyn scanned his surroundings. He hadn’t been in this part of the forest before. He was in the middle of a small valley that was maybe a quarter mile across at its base, where a shallow creek meandered through it. The foliage was thick with bushes as tall as his chest, some with briars and brambles. Others had leaves that left painful white welts on his skin that stung until he rubbed cool mud over them.
In the distance, a branch snapped and fell with a crash onto the forest floor. Save for the trickling water, the forest returned to silence. Allyn started upstream, climbing over the fallen tree that had stopped his tumble and using the underbrush for cover while keeping the creek in sight. He planned to follow the water until he was convinced he’d escaped Jaxon—who was hopefully going in the opposite direction—before climbing the ridge and doubling back to the manor from the north. Then he could find out what the hell was going on.
Even while attempting to be silent, Allyn trampled through the underbrush like a wounded deer. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been deep in the forest. That was more Kendyl’s thing. His favorite hiking trails were paved. This was wet and dirty and smelled of decay and death. Wasn’t nature supposed to be clean? Fresh?
Allyn hid his hands in the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt to protect them from the stringing nettles that were everywhere. He quickly gave up trying to hide in the underbrush and made for the creek. The cold water sucked the air from his lungs and threatened to numb his feet up to his calves, but it was quieter. In most places, the creek was less than ten feet wide and rarely deeper than his ankles. It flowed gently, except for a few places where the water funneled between narrow banks, growing deeper, tugging at his legs and almost pushing him over.
Allyn walked for what felt like an hour—the time was difficult to tell with the trees blocking out the sunlight—before beginning his trek back up the ridge. His shoes squished with each step. His feet tingled as feeling slowly returned. Trees protruded from the hillside and offered aid as Allyn climbed the ridge. One branch snapped free, and Allyn nearly tumbled back down the hillside. After regaining his footing, Allyn tossed the branch aside and started up the ridge again.
His legs weak and shaking, Allyn crested the tree line at the top of the ridge and entered a meadow with knee-high wild grass. The manor was nowhere in sight. He didn’t have time to be disappointed. A concussion of air hit him in the chest.
Blinking away tears and double vision, Allyn found himself on his back on the moist earth. Expressionless, Jaxon strode toward him with a baseball-sized ball of ice in his hand.
Allyn pushed himself backward, unable to stand. “What are you doing?”
Jaxon hurled the ice at him and shot it forward with air. It closed the distance between them in a blink.
Allyn threw his hands up and screamed. Red coils of lightning as thick as his finger sprang from his palms, twisting around themselves almost as if they were battling each other then shattering the ice into hundreds of harmless pieces. Another ice blast was already streaking toward him. He rolled to the side and shot it out of the air, too. Breathing heavily, Allyn held his wrists in front of him. Red bands of electricity wreathed around his arms, alive, twisting, radiating power—ready to be unleashed again.
“I don’t think anyone really believed me, and I almost doubted myself, but I knew it. I saw it with my own eyes.” Jaxon looked satisfied.
“It was a game?” Allyn asked angrily. The coils burned brighter. “You could have killed me!”
Jaxon dismissed Allyn’s anger with a wave of his hand. “It was weak fire and ice with dulled edges. Bruises maybe, but it wouldn’t kill you. And look what you did. You don’t have control over
it. It’s instinctual. But you can do it. You can wield.”
Allyn held up his arms in front of him. The coils crackled and hissed when they touched one another. “What is it?”
“Some kind of electrical charge. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m more curious where it comes from. Magic has a cost, Allyn, and without knowing what it is, I don’t know how safe it is to wield.”
“If it’s electricity, then my body should replenish it, shouldn’t it?”
“Perhaps. But your heart runs off an electrical system. Can you inadvertently wield too much and send yourself into cardiac arrest? Or can you unintentionally electrocute yourself?”
The charges continued to coil around Allyn’s arms, never going higher than his shoulder. They emitted a soft red glow and tingled his skin, but they didn’t burn. “They don’t hurt.”
A ball of fire formed in Jaxon’s hand. “When I wield fire, it doesn’t hurt me, either, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a danger to you.” He let the fire burn out. “Can you let the charge dissipate?”
Allyn looked at his arms, willing the charge to dissipate. Nothing happened. He looked to Jaxon for help.
“Electricity must be severed,” Jaxon said. “Pull the plug.”
It was easier said than done. The energy didn’t emit from a singular place. It flowed through his body, radiating from his toes to his fingers. Like an ocean of power, its depths were limitless. He thought back to the first time he’d wielded. The ability had begun in the void, so Allyn returned there. But it was no longer a void. It had become a ball of writhing energy, hot to the touch. Severing it was like smothering the sun—impossible. Instead, he pulled it back. Allyn imagined himself pulling on the energy like a rope, bringing it back under his control one yank at a time. As he reeled the electricity back into the void, the tendrils lost their glow until, at last, they dissipated entirely.
Fracture (Book 1) Page 21