Faebound Rhapsody

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Faebound Rhapsody Page 12

by Amy J. Wenglar


  “Are you okay with this, Sophia?” Anne asks, stepping forward to take my hand. “I suppose I should ask for your blessing or something.”

  She looks so pitiful I almost laugh. Anne is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met. I can’t be mad at her. Or Chris, either. I dumped Chris. I've moved on. And it’s time he moves on, too.

  “Of course I’m okay with it. I think it’s wonderful,” I say.

  And I mean it.

  "Thanks," says Anne with an awkward laugh. Her face brightens, her brown eyes lighting up as she turns to Chris, linking her arm with his. " Well, then, we really should be going if we're going to make it on time."

  I have about a million questions, none of which need an answer today. We have much bigger things to worry about.

  "Chris, " I say as he and Anne turn to leave. "Thank you for bringing Greg back.”

  Chris offers me a faint smile. "It's nothing, Miss Kelly.”

  After they’re gone, I turn to Myra, who watches me, her gaze wary. I'm not sure what she thinks I'm going to do, but I am calm. Old Sophia would've said hurtful things out of jealousy…things she would regret later. But New Sophia is at peace with it. I am glad Chris and Anne are together, and I'm glad he's happy.

  “I’m not going to explode into a jealous rage or anything,” I say, hands on my hips. “Sure, I’m a bit surprised about it, but their relationship doesn’t bother me at all.”

  Her shoulders relax as she lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

  "Oh, thank God. We were hesitant to tell you because we weren’t sure how you’d react. You had just arrived at the Academy after leaving your own husband behind. You’re still getting settled in. We're throwing a lot at you. We didn’t want to add this on top of everything.”

  “I promise, it’s fine,” I say.

  She regards me for a moment longer.

  “Okay, then.” She shrugs. “Let’s go play with fire.”

  There isn’t much to the Fire Room. The room is empty, aside from a few fire extinguishers placed around the perimeter and a few articles of clothing hanging from metal pegs on the wall. The residual scents of smoke and charred wood hang in the room, burning my eyes and nostrils the moment we enter.

  “Drink up, Princess,” Myra says, tying her thick hair back into a big, puffy ponytail and then taking a few long swigs from her water bottle.

  “Yes, yes, I understand. Hydration is key,” I grumble.

  She reaches for what looks like a sleek, leather unitard hanging on the wall, and hands it to me. “Put this on, too. I realize I said we’d use practice flames, but after what I just witnessed with the water, it’s best that you’re protected, just in case.”

  “Just in case,” I repeat.

  “You’re more powerful than you realize. You may try to summon practice flames, but end up with the real deal instead. Again, it’s best to be cautious.” She nods toward the wad of black, stretchy leather in my hands. “It’s body armor. You can just slip it on over what you’re wearing. The fabric is forgiving, not to mention super comfortable.”

  “But it’s leather,” I protest, but Myra only nods as if this is all normal. “So, just put it on? With my shoes on and everything?” I give the leather a dubious look before stepping in with one foot and then the other. “I’m nervous about this whole thing,” I mutter as I work the suit up my body.

  Once it’s on, the fabric seems to mold itself to the loose top and leggings I’m wearing beneath it, and in a few seconds, it’s as if I’m not wearing anything at all.

  “Pretty nice, huh?” Myra asks, grinning at me. She takes another huge gulp of water before clapping her hands together. “Okay. Let’s get started.” She looks around the room, her eyes narrowed and focused. “Ever done any hand-to-hand sparring?” she asks.

  “I have, but it’s been awhile,” I admit. “I took some fencing lessons with Colin, and we would do some light sparring sometimes to warm up. Oh! I trained with Chris, too.”

  Seems like a million years ago.

  “Ah, okay. Yes,” Myra says, shifting from one foot to the other.

  “It’s okay.” I reassure her. “His relationship with Anne? It’s okay. Really. You don’t have to make it a thing.”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” she sighs. “And…not to be rude, but you traded up with Alexander,” she says, grinning. “He’s so…okay, the guy’s beautiful, Sophia. And he’s charming as hell. I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

  I’m not sure why, but this conversation is making me uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because I haven’t heard from Alexander at all since my arrival in Nevermoor, despite having reached out to him almost every night as he requested. I’ve gotten nothing but silence in response. That, coupled with the fact that our binding was botched, would make any girl a bit uneasy about her current relationship status.

  “Don’t look like that,” she says. “Worrying about him won’t help anything.”

  “I wasn’t…” I sigh. “Okay, so in the week that I’ve been here, I haven’t heard from him. No communication. Nothing. So, I can’t help but to worry. What if something’s wrong? What if something’s happened?”

  “You would know. I promise you’d know,” she assures me. “He’d send someone with news if that was the case. You are lightbound to him, after all.”

  Well, sort of.

  She walks over and drapes a sisterly arm around my shoulder.

  “It is the price we pay when we fall in love with supernaturals,” she says with a sad smile. “There’s always some war. Or some treaty. Or some pack-battle over territory.”

  “Pack battle?” I ask, surprised.

  She rolls her eyes, her expression darkening into a scowl. “The guy I’m dating, Tristan. He’s off doing these alpha-trials.” She chews the inside of her cheek. I can tell this is a bit of a sore subject. She’s mentioned Tristan before, and it’s never positive, yet she seems to like him. “So dumb. So bro-y. All that testosterone flying around. And for what? Just to say you lead a pack of amped up wolves?” She lets out a slow breath. “I try to be supportive. But then he comes back, all bloodied and beaten up. It’s a shifter-thing, but I’ll never understand why they can’t just hash stuff out with a simple vote. Why does everything have to be some big machismo ‘let’s-fight-until-we’re-almost-dead’…thing?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Sorry,” she grumbles. “By the confused look on your face, I’m guessing you don’t know a lot about shifters yet.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Well, don’t date one,” she says bitterly. “They’re tough and rugged and pretty to look at and all, but their entire pack will judge you if you’re not one of them. And if they don’t like you, or if you’re from some rival pack, then your relationship is doomed, no matter how hard you work at it.”

  I don’t tell her I feel the same way about Alexander’s “pack”.

  “At least Tristan’s pack doesn’t send vampires out to kill you,” I mutter.

  “This is true,” Myra says, nodding in agreement. “But as a Fae Princess and future Fae Queen, you must prepare yourself for attacks…whether they’re vampire attacks or something else. You’ve got to be ready.” She reaches into a metal basket and pulls out a pair of hand wraps. “Here, these will protect your hands,” she says. “Wrap all the way to your elbows, if you can.” She tosses the wraps to me, and I proceed to wind them around my hands and arms as instructed. She frowns as she surveys my handiwork. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to do it.”

  “I’ve wrapped my hands before, but I’m obviously out of practice,” I laugh, adjusting the wraps to ensure a more even coverage before following her back to the center of the room.

  “Again, we’ll work with practice flames first,” she reminds me. “I’ll summon practice-fire, and you try to pull from its energy. Just like you did with the elements of water, air, and earth.”

  She holds out her palm, and I watch, fascinated as a faint yellow flame forms, hovering j
ust over her palm. Remembering everything the other witches have already taught me, I concentrate on the little yellow flame until the flicker of one appears in the palm of my hand. It’s warm, but it’s almost comforting against the freezer-like temperatures in the room.

  “Good. That’s good, Sophia. Let’s try again.”

  She produces a second ball of fire, this one a pale pink-ish color, and I narrow my eyes, willing a pink flame of my own to appear in my other upturned palm. The pink is only warmer than the yellow flame. Perhaps I’m already leveling up.

  “Perfect.” Myra keeps her eyes glued to the flames. “Want to try a volley?”

  She sends her “ball” floating my way.

  “What, like fire-tennis?” I ask as I extinguish the flames in my hands in order to return her volley.

  She goes easy on me at first, but once I prove that my reflexes are sharp enough, she ups the intensity until we are both panting and sweating with exertion.

  “It’s like a real-live tennis match,” I observe as I send a fireball back in her direction with ease. “And I’ve never even played tennis before.”

  “Now, see if you can summon the same fire without my help,” Myra says, flipping her palms and absorbing the fire back inside of her. She wipes her brow with the back of her hand.

  “But…I’m not sure…”

  The fire builds inside of me, but it’s much hotter and angrier than what we’ve just been playing with.

  “You can do it.” She crouches in a defensive stance, her eyes fixed on my face. “I’m right here if things get out of hand.”

  This doesn’t seem like the best idea. I’m a bit fatigued…like I’m about to hit a wall and need to rest.

  “You can do it,” she urges, as if sensing my hesitation.

  I want to say something…speak up. Suggest that we try this another time, but the spark in Myra’s eyes is so optimistic and so eager. I decide to go for it, anyway. With a deep breath, I call to the fire inside of me. But I quickly realize that it’s not just the element of fire I’m calling out to. There’s something else. I hear music. Loud, brazen music erupts inside my brain as the other elements rise to the surface. And there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Myra’s face is white with shock as she lunges toward me.

  “No! Sophia! Stop!” Her voice fades away, replaced with a buzzing energy inside of me that’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. What I can only describe as an earthen ball of fire and water hurls itself from my open palms, powered by a gust of wind that sends me tumbling backward. As my back hits the floor, my jaw locks up, and I feel paralyzed. “Oh, no, no, no,” Myra moans. She looks down at me, but her face blurs in and out of my vision. “You were only supposed to summon fire. You’ve…you’ve just summoned…all the elements.”

  “I thought…I couldn’t…do that without…” I whisper.

  She looks panicked as her eyes dart back toward the door. I watch her, focusing what’s left of my energy on her. I’m fading fast.

  “We have to get you to the infirmary. Now.”

  She calls for the other girls. The sound of her shrill, terrified voice is like daggers to my brain.

  “What is happening?” I croak, trying not to panic as a cold sensation makes its way along my spine, up through the back of my neck, and to the top of my head. “Why am I cold and hot at the same time?”

  “Jesus Christ, Myra.” Sarah peers down at me, her expression pale and shocked. “What the hell did you do?”

  “We were practicing with fire, and…and—“

  “I thought we agreed to save fire for the end of the week,” Sarah snaps. “After the other elements had a chance to leave her body. You have to space these things out. She has to detox. You know that. You can’t just—”

  “She was doing so well,” Myra argues. “You should’ve seen her. Volleying back and forth with fire like a pro. She’s just summoned all four elements. Without the Black Obsidian Stone.

  “She’s not ready for that,” Sarah hisses. “All of our magic swirling around inside of her at once could kill her. That’s why we need the Stone, you idiot.”

  “The Stone is gone, Sarah.”

  “What happens when she dies then?” Sarah shrieks. “What then?”

  “Okay, well, I’m not quite dead yet. Don’t fight. Please…don’t,” I beg. It’s as if I’m being pinned to the ground by arms and legs that refuse to move, no matter how hard I try. I take a deep inhale, trying to ignore the pressure that’s building in my chest, pushing me deeper into the floor and making it harder and harder to breathe. “I don’t understand what…I’ve done…but it’s very…painful.”

  10

  I blink my eyes open and stare up into the faces of four very concerned witches. I try to speak. But I can’t find the words, so I give up surveying the room instead. I'm not sure where I am, but, based on the IV stuck in my arm, I can only assume it’s a hospital room. I watch, fascinated as thick, pink goo flows from the bag hanging on the IV stand into my veins.

  My senses seem heightened. Everything seems brighter, louder, and more vibrant than before.

  But something else tugs at my attention, and it’s something I can’t identify.

  “Where am I?” I ask, taking another peek around the pristine, white room. “What happened? And what is this stuff?” I hold up my IV’ed arm.

  “You’re in the infirmary,” Myra explains. “You…sort of overdosed on magic.” She pauses, waiting for my reaction, but I only stare at her, mouth gaping open like a fish. How does one overdose on magic? “But the good news is that our magic is combined now…” She frowns. “Well, sort of. It’s not working together in perfect harmony yet, but it’s a start.” She shrugs, nodding toward the bag of pink goo. “As for that? I wouldn’t complain about what they’re giving you, Princess.” She grins at me. “That stuff is the absolute best. And when they take it away from you, it’s taken from us, too.”

  They nod in agreement.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. “Can you feel…what I’m feeling?”

  It sounds absolutely ridiculous.

  “Yes,” Sarah says. “It happens when our magic is combined. Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “So, what do you remember, Sophia?” asks Anne, her face flushed with the radiance that only a blissful, new relationship can bring.

  “I don’t remember very little,” I admit, as a prickle of jealousy creeps through me. “I remember Fire Practice going well, and then Fire Practice escalating, and then boom. Infirmary.”

  I turn away, hoping that with our newly combined power, my friends can’t see or sense my darkening mood. It’s not that I’m jealous that Anne and Chris are a hot new item; it’s that I wish my relationship with Alexander was…well, even somewhat existent.

  “You harnessed our power,” Sarah explains, reaching out to touch my arm. That’s a big deal. It’s huge, Sophia.”

  “I figured something epic was happening inside of me,” I whisper. “But I thought I needed this Black Obsidian Stone-thing in order to go harnessing multiple sources of power at once.”

  Just hearing of the stone sends a chill running through me, and for a split second, I can almost picture it in my mind’s eye. Sarah would be proud.

  “That's the thing,” Ruby says. “Normally, you would, but you didn't need it. You summoned and wielded our magic without it.”

  “Yeah,” Myra snorts. “And it only almost killed you.”

  I know she’s only trying to make light of a very serious situation, but I don’t enjoy being so frail…so destructible…so…human.

  “This Black Obsidian Stone,” I murmur. A sudden sense of clarity washes through me, and I think I can see the Stone in my mind’s eye. “It was supposedly destroyed, right?” I ask, buzzing with giddiness. The girls nod. “What’s weird is that I think…I think I can sense it. I don’t know how to explain it. But I can almost picture it in my mind. It’s a fleeting image, but it’s something. Right?”<
br />
  “Hmm…” Myra’s eyes narrow as she ponders this. “Do you suppose we’ve awakened it?”

  “Well, something woke it up,” I say.

  “If it wasn’t destroyed…then do you know where it is? Could you find it?” Ruby asks, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t think so,” I admit. “If that’s what I’m experiencing, then I think it’s…well, it seems like it’s very far away. Like it’s not even in this realm.”

  “Even if it isn’t in this realm… if it wasn’t destroyed… then there’s still hope, right?” Sarah jumps in, glancing between us. “Just because it’s in another realm doesn’t mean it’s lost forever.”

  “Yeah, inter-realm travel has never stopped us before,” Myra scoffs, rolling her eyes. “There are ways…”

  Adrenaline rushes through me. I rise so I am sitting upright, but Sarah places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

  “You should rest, Sophia,” she murmurs. “If the Stone wasn’t destroyed, and you can sense its power, then we will find it. But you need your strength back before we try.”

  I want to protest, but I decide against it. I need my strength back, after all.

  “I still don’t understand how I harnessed your power,” I say, my eyes flying open as I bolt upright again. Sarah makes a disapproving noise. “I’m not tired,” I reassure her. “I want to know how I could…harness your power in one gigantic ball of energy like that. I want to do it again. I want to—“

  “Well, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” Sarah snaps, her blue eyes narrowing. “Fire Practice wasn’t until later in the week, but Myra here—“

  “Hey, she was doing great,” Myra argues. “Who am I to hold her back? Maybe that’s the problem? Everyone’s trying to hold the girl back when she just needs to…use her damned magic.”

  Yes!

  “Myra has a point,” I say. “All my life, I was protected and held back, and—“

  “Well, you almost killed her,” Ruby shouts, interrupting me.

  “Case in point,” I grumble, pressing my fingers to my pounding temples. Their silly bickering is the last thing I need right now. “Listen, I didn’t die,” I snap. “In fact, I think we’ve all learned something important today. And if you idiots could stop fighting for five seconds, then perhaps we could actually have a productive conversation.”

 

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