Chapter 24 - Hot Magic
Wrenora
Callan left me in his study the next day with no instructions, just free reign to do as I pleased.
He’d hesitated, but after a long moment of staring at me without a single word, he turned and left.
It had been the same the night before, when I’d found him in his throne room.
His eyes had spoken the words he seemed reluctant to speak aloud.
And now? I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was frustrating. I knew if I didn't stop, I’d have more questions. Too many questions when I shouldn’t have any. When I shouldn’t be curious about him at all. So, I focused on trying to imbue a gem for the first time in over five years.
My magic had always been shy, waiting under the surface of my skin for the right moment.
It wasn’t showy. It had no desire for grandeur or flare.
My imbuing master had infinite patience with me, reiterating more than once that his magic had been the same before he’d trained it.
That I was a perfect reincarnation of his mother, who had been a powerful imbuing mage before her death.
I prepared my space, cleared away all the distractions, and placed a beautiful amethyst on the worktable.
I checked the notes Callan had left for me.
He was thorough. It was obvious from what I could read that he’d spent a significant amount of time studying imbuing and gem properties, only to learn he possessed the wrong type of magic.
It must have been humbling for him. He was perhaps the most powerful frost mage in existence.
An arrogant prince who’d managed to overlook my round ears and remove my shackles.
Dare I say, his sharp demeanor had melted into something far warmer than I’d thought him capable of.
Why was I thinking about him again?
I squeezed my eyes closed to focus. He’d be back soon, and once he was here, I knew I wouldn’t be able to channel my magic at all.
It was like a strange frozen fog poured in around me since he’d insisted I call him by his given name.
With no honorifics, the familiarity between us was far too comfortable.
Each shard of ice I peeled back from him revealed another smooth, beautiful facet of his personality I liked more than the last.
Then there were his words—the real reason he wanted a suppression gem powerful enough to control his magic.
It came with revealing the real strength of his power.
That he hadn’t touched another living breathing person since he’d lost his betrothed.
Eight years. Eight years without the warmth of another.
“Fucking focus, Wrenora,” I said aloud.
But it didn’t help. I was already thinking about the scars on Callan’s body. So many scars carved across perfectly honed muscles and...
I stepped back from the gem. This was impossible. I wasn’t going to be able to wake my magic like this. I needed to melt through the ice of my thoughts.
Fynn pranced into the study, making a direct path to my legs. He rubbed against my shins until he accepted I wasn’t going to stoop down to pet him, jumping onto the worktable instead. He padded to the amethyst I’d been focusing on, sniffing the stone before looking up at me with hooded eyes.
“Maybe you’d be better at imbuing than me.” I stroked down his back to the tip of his tail a few times as he spun in circles. “His Royal Broodiness will be disappointed if I don’t figure this out.”
Fynn tipped his head to the side before he sat, flopping his tail over. Without thinking, I continued to pet his soft head and down his back, stroking over and over. He leaned into my hand harder as he started to purr, the rhythmic vibrations driving all the convoluted thoughts away.
“Maybe...”
I leaned forward, looking at the shape of the gem.
It was rough—a lump of raw stone that hadn’t been shaped or cut in any way—and had a vaguely translucent quality, letting the glow from the wisplights mounted throughout Callan’s study pass through and leave a purple stain on the tabletop.
Perhaps it was this property that made imbuing harder.
A sapphire of good quality was almost completely clear, allowing the heat of magic to pass through unencumbered instead of realigning the grain of the stone into something different.
I focused again, placing my hands on either side of the amethyst and pressed from the edges of my mind, feeling the warmth of my magic as it drew to the surface of my skin.
I was vaguely aware of Fynn as he lay down with his white paws and tail tucked beneath himself, resembling a wintery loaf of bread.
I blocked out all thoughts of frosty princes and frozen kings and queens and Magdala’s over-familiarity.
The heat of my magic bled out of my fingertips in long tendrils of shimmering golden light and swirled around the gem.
It had been so long I’d forgotten what it looked like—fire condensed into glittery brilliance.
Unlike other human magic that burst forth in blazing hot flames, this was warmth rushing through my veins, sinking into my extremities and deep into my stomach.
So much heat licked through my torso and into my cheeks as I pressed more of my magic into the stone with each breath.
I pivoted my focus, making sure I imbued the amethyst with the correct properties, thinking of magic containment, holding things back, caging power behind the barrier of one’s skin.
It was like speaking to the stone with your mind—I had to have the message right.
So, I whispered with my thoughts: Keep the magic in place until the user is no longer in physical contact with the stone.
Trap it all inside the amethyst where it can’t do any harm.
It was like I could feel the particles in the gem realign—physical structures of the stone changing to hold the fragments of power within itself.
The amethyst started to glow a gentle lavender that built the longer I pressed my magic into it.
I knew from experience that if I tried to touch the stone at this point in the process, it would burn my fingerprints off, so after another few moments I let the magic ease away, slowly dissipating as the properties of the gem locked in place.
I hadn’t realized how much energy I’d used.
When my magic faded completely and the warmth rippling through my body dispersed into the cool air, a chill writhed through me.
There was sweat beaded on my brow and an ache in my back and legs from the effort.
I stumbled back from the table, my fingers slipping over the warm surface as I tried to grab hold of something and failed.
I crumpled to the floor, sprawling out on my back, and looked up at the semi-translucent ceiling above.
Fluffy snowflakes drifted down, hitting the domed surface before rolling off the sides.
It was mesmerizing, and I was content to lay there, the cold ice of the floor a contrast to my hot back.
I couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted after an imbuing session, but perhaps it was because I hadn’t done it in years.
I started to drift to sleep when I felt the cool nose of a cat.
Fynn sniffed my outstretched arm then pranced onto my stomach, pawing rhythmically a few times before he plopped down in the shape of a sweet bun.
“Not exactly the most comfortable place, I know, but I don’t think I can make it over to the sofa just yet.”
Fynn licked a paw in response. I must have made a comfortable enough bed for him that he didn’t care either way.
“I wonder how long until his Royal Broodiness comes back,” I whispered, worried he might have snuck up on me while I’d been hypnotized by the falling snow.
But there was only silence as Fynn lay his head down and purred.
Maybe I’d been successful. Maybe I’d get to go home sooner than I thought.
My mind drifted to Lorna, a moment of guilt washing over me.
How long had it been since Callan had retrieved me from Madam Ignes and I’d left poor, sweet Lorna behind.
I should have been more forceful in my convictions.
I shouldn’t have let her convince me it was okay to leave her behind.
I squeezed my eyes closed. Perhaps before I left this place, I could figure out some way to find her and take her with me.
Maybe I could convince Callan to purchase her back as well.
Or maybe it would be too much to ask when I’d already been given my freedom.
––––––––
“Wrenora?” He was standing over me when I opened my eyes, concern written in the curve of his eyebrows.
Callan reached a hand down as his armor solidified over his arm. I knew now it was to protect me, but I still felt a twinge of hurt. Once on my feet, he guided me to the sofa then stepped back, letting his armor melt away.
“On your worktable,” I said, cherishing the way he tensed with surprise.
He moved so fast, flowing around the sofa with a sharp grace only an elf could possess. I turned to see him and gasped. The stone was glowing. Pale purple waves of magic oozed from the amethyst where it sat in the palm of his hand. He set it back down and the light immediately faded.
“I’ve never seen one do that before,” he said.
I struggled to my feet and followed him around the sofa, needing to hold the gem in my own hand to see if it had the same reaction. He took a large step away while flexing his hand at his side, whether from nerves or something else, I wasn’t sure.
When I held the stone in my hand, it did nothing. It remained the same lifeless dark purple as when I’d held it before imbuing. Instead of setting it back down, I held it out to him.
He took another step away, tucking both his hands behind his back.
“I’ll test it for efficacy later.” He took two more steps back, his eyes never leaving the amethyst, until he finally turned and left without another word.
His coldness—the stoic expression on his face when I knew he had to be pleased—ripped a hole in my heart.
He hadn’t even thanked me. Had I done something wrong?
Not that I should care. Just because he’d shown me kindness didn’t mean anything.
In fact, he only needed my magic. He’d said so himself.
I shouldn’t have been surprised by the reticence in his response.
And yet, a small crack had opened in my chest, letting my excitement at having been successful on the first attempt pour out onto the ice at my feet.
Later that evening, I was back in the study.
I had nowhere else to go other than my personal chamber, and here I was guaranteed the company of Fynn.
I didn’t expect to see Callan again that day, so when I felt his eyes roaming over me, I glanced up.
He stood with his usual predatory stillness in the doorway, dressed as usual with gloves, a high-collared doublet, and his face mask tucked under his chin.
His lavender eyes were glued firmly to me. It was unnerving the way he stared.
I looked down at the sapphires resting on the worktable. I had been lost in the notes in one of his journals.
“I need to test the amethyst.” He folded his arms but didn’t look away.
“I suspected as much.”
“Will you go with me?”
I held my breath. Did he mean to test it on me? Was he so confident I’d been successful?
“I usually test on pigs. Their skin is closest to ours.”
Ours? Did he mean elves, or was he including me—a human—with himself?
I let out the breath. “I can go with you, if you’d like.”
“I would...” He looked away before clearing his throat. “I would appreciate it very much if you could come, yes.”
So many questions were flooding the space between us. Did he actually want my presence? Was he nervous? There was something different about the way he acted around me since returning from Dyga.
“Come.” He turned away abruptly.
It wasn’t a question; it was a command. The frozen prince was ordering me to follow. I swept the amethyst into a small satin bag that lay empty on the worktable before I followed him.
He pulled his mask up over his face as we walked, and I wondered if the real reason he wore it was to protect people from his magic, or if he was self-conscious of the scars that ran down his cheek.
They did little to dampen how beautiful he was—there was only so much that could destroy the perfect curve of his jaw, his full lips, his slender nose.
I glowered at the back of his head as I followed, and he glanced back to ensure I was still behind him more than once.
We ducked out into the bailey and through a stable. Cassmira looked up from where she was huddled in a stall which had been turned into a nest of sorts. She glared at me with her golden eyes before letting out a deafening shriek.
“We’ll fly soon, my friend,” Callan said as he led me through a door into a small barren garden. A path of dirty snow, packed down by hundreds of footprints, led to a barn tucked against the back of the yard.
Inside there were all manner of animals—goats, pigs, and strange, long-necked wooly creatures with fluffy cheeks and droopy ears.
I found myself struggling to keep up with Callan’s long strides as his pace quickened.
He pulled open one of the gates and stepped into the last stall before turning to reach toward me with a gloved hand.
Our eyes met. Some strange understanding passed between us.
If this worked—if I’d been successful with an amethyst—he’d have me move to the sapphires, and I wasn't sure I was ready.
I poured the purple gem out into my hand and held it up to him.
Without touching me, he plucked it from my palm before stripping off his gloves.
“How does it work?” I asked, curiosity and anxiety tightening around my throat.
I wasn’t sure I actually wanted this to work.
Part of me hoped it failed and I could continue trying to imbue gems while I discovered all the facets of his personality.
Another part of me wanted to be done with this so I could return to my home.
The idea of freedom was far too ethereal to believe until I was standing on Kaldaira soil.
“My skin has to have contact with the suppression gem.” He squeezed the stone in his fist, purple light leaking between his fingers. “Then, I touch the pig to see if it freezes.”
I held my breath as he stepped toward the poor creature. He rested his palm on the pig’s flank, and it squealed before bolting off, unharmed.
It worked.