Chapter 18 #2
Heat rolled off of them and added what looked like an oil slick to the air around them, colored in rainbow hues.
Their iridescent skin carried a glow from within.
They were sharper featured than any other Seelie or Unseelie I’d met before, with narrowed eyes and pointed chins to match their longer ears.
“It’s a shame to meet under these circumstances, but I’ve heard a lot about your people. You’re Fevar, right?” Poppy said, a demand in her voice.
Her tone always got gruffer when she wanted to cover her surprise and something about these people surprised her.
“Fevar are nomads,” Poppy explained to me in a low voice. “Their magic is fire based. They go wherever they feel, whenever they want, and they feed on energy. It sustains their power.”
My gaze skittered over their clothes, simple tunics held together at the shoulder with molten gold coins rolling like water.
Fabric draped over willowy limbs in rough cuts of ocher and pumpkin.
More liquid metal belted their skirts or trousers, and this close I could see that the tips of their spears gleamed with more worked metal.
A woman with long hair the aureate bronze of fresh flame shielded the others with her body and lifted her hands, the spear dancing at her side.
“Witch?” She addressed Poppy, then turned to me with her lips twisted by scrutiny.
“Among other things,” Poppy replied. “What happened here?”
Another growl of wind crashed over us and the cyclone’s roar left a burst of torrential power behind.
The Fevar woman offered no introduction. She shielded her face with a hand and said, “Our caravan was on that mountain when the cyclone came. Everyone else got trapped inside. We were out foraging and got separated.”
The force of the woman’s glare gave her an extra charge and the aura around her pulsed with significance. “We feed on the energy of others to survive. Our people are cut off completely from the rest of Faerie now. They have no food source. If the winds don’t cease, they’ll die.”
Like vampires. I opened my mouth to voice the comparison but snapped my lips shut against another gust of wind. My skin broke out in goosebumps.
Surely the Fevar wouldn’t appreciate the comparison to the mortals’ idea of blood-sucking fiends.
Another fierce blast from the cyclone tore trees from their roots and sent them tumbling to earth. Poppy ducked and pulled me down to avoid a hail of fragmented bark.
“We only want to save our people and be on our way, but the wind is thick! It cuts us off whenever we make an attempt to get back to camp.” The Fevar lifted her chin. “I don’t want my people to die.”
She wasn’t asking for a favor, either. She didn’t trust us.
“You’re an awfully long way from the rest of civilization. What were you thinking, heading to the spine like this?” Poppy gestured with her arm to take in the long ridge line of sharp pointed mountain stone.
“A witch knows the persecution of others too well. Don’t you?” The woman arched an eyebrow. “We travel because being stationary hasn’t been kind to us. We’d hoped to cross the ridge and get to the Yarhain before summer. The fishermen are always plentiful on the shore in summer.”
I understood well how hard it could be when you were different. Only I’d been forced to keep my secrets, not let anyone know what bastardized mix of genetics made up my bloodline.
The Fevar were only trying to live their lives. And if they wanted a bit of energy, hell, I had plenty to spare. Or I would after this.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to get your people out of there,” I assured her.
Her skin glowed, changing colors, an oil slick beneath a gloaming. “I don’t see how.”
Neither did I.
I pulled at the center of my magic, against gravity, to approach the cyclone, keeping my feet on the ground, until I stood parallel to the funnel cloud.
Its force was tremendous, like it could atomize me with no effort.
Nerves jostled because even by this point, I was no expert. With Livvy’s grounding techniques fresh in my mind, I held out my hand to the wind.
It tore at my clothing, at my hair, attempting to rip limbs free. Its howl obliterated any other sound and the chill seeped down into my bones. I glanced up at the sky, a completely different shade than the storm near Areia had been.
This was my fault.
This was the price I had to pay for what I could do now. And it was my job, my responsibility to use that power to corral the cyclone and draw it into me. Just like I’d done with the storm and the mudslide. Simple.
Lifting my hands, I reached out with my senses, eyes forced to squint against the debris in the air. An electrified buzz shot through me and I wrangled the energy away from the body of the air funnel.
If the others yelled warnings, I couldn’t hear them.
Nothing else existed outside of the terrifying amount of magic keeping the mountain contained in a solid shield of violent air.
The funnel drifted closer as I harnessed more magic and sent it flying into the heart of the storm. Sweat dried and cracked on my skin as I bore down, adjusting my own gravity to stay on the ground and not get pulled into the vortex.
This cut deeper than the others.
I’d thought the mudslide was my worst opponent yet?
The cyclone moved and breathed and tore at the land. It hungered for more. It wanted everything, and the harder I pulled on it, the more I struggled to keep it in my grasp, The more it bucked and kicked to get free.
It ate at my magic and demanded more from that, too. Any shred I had to give, it swallowed. I summoned more power from the endless well inside of me, forcing the cyclone to bend to me and not the other way around.
It raged harsher than fire, showing the exact devastation of the power of wind.
My fingers curled into fists and I pulled physically, wrangling the wind while searching for the pressure changes to force it into submission.
It wasn’t done with me. Not by a long shot. A stray breeze wrapped slyly around my ankle and tugged, catching me off guard.
Whipping me off the ground and dragging me into the heart of the cyclone.