Chapter 10
“R odric, something’s wrong,” Damien whispered, his brown eyes much darker than normal, the way they got when he was worried or angry.
“What do you mean?” Rodric glanced at their instructor, who was drilling the older boys in hand-to-hand tactics across the room.
“Jena.” Damien stressed his twin’s name and tapped his temple. “It’s something bad. We need to go, now!”
Rodric hated breaking the rules. They would get in so much trouble for leaving the training early. But Avery was at the same place Jena was with their mothers, and Rodric trusted his best friend. Pushing down the gnawing anxiousness eating at his stomach, he nodded.
Walking quickly across the room, they stowed their practice gear as quietly as they could, trying not to draw the ire of their instructor.
An older friend of theirs, James, gestured frantically to them, silently asking where they were going. Rodric shook his head, motioning toward the instructor. James scowled but signaled to them to continue leaving. He hated missing out on mischief and would probably hound them later, but this wasn’t that type of outing. Nerves coiled inside Rodric as he followed Damien across the room.
Just as they neared the door, there was a screech and a thud, James apologizing loudly, drawing the instructor’s attention opposite them.
As soon as they were outside, Damien broke into a run, Rodric at his heels.
“Do you know what’s wrong?”
“No, but Jena is terrified. I’ve never felt her this scared before.”
Rodric fought the nausea that immediately churned at the veiled reference to magic. He loved Damien like a brother, even after he’d found out his long-time friend was secretly a mage. But the Zafar family was comfortable with their magic in a way that completely terrified Rodric, and he hated that his mother and Avery were being drawn into such a dangerous world. His mind wouldn’t let go of the horrific possibilities.
Why hadn’t he voiced his concerns louder when Avery told him that she and their mom were joining a magic rights group led by Lady Zafar? He knew it was too dangerous. What if someone found out? What if they were hurt?
Jena was confident and fearsome, like her mother. If she was scared, there was a big reason.
He ran faster, keeping pace with Damien as they hurried to their family. Finally, they turned down a back alley on the outskirts of town, racing toward the house at the very end of the street. Damien sucked in a gasp as Rodric staggered to a halt. The house was on fire, black smoke beginning to escape from the open windows.
“Someone knew. Someone found out,” Rodric whispered, his gut rebelling. A huge red X painted the ground in front of the door, marking it for destruction by the townspeople. A silent symbol of why it had been targeted. No help would be coming.
“Agh!” Damien hissed in pain when he tried to push open the door. Stepping back, he raised his arms and shoved air at the door, blowing it nearly off its hinges. Somewhere deep in the house, glass shattered, the piercing sound reaching them.
“Damien, be careful!” The air fed the flames and made the situation more dangerous.
Smoke stung his eyes as they stopped a few feet into the kitchen. His lungs heaved with the first breath, assaulted by the contaminated air. Coughing, he pushed Damien toward the barely visible door into the rest of the house. “Hurry!”
“Jena! Avery!” The snap of flames was the only sound that greeted them.
“Why is no one running out? Where are they?” he asked, panicked. Were they trapped? Had they gotten out already?
“They always meet in the basement,” Damien said. “Come on!”
Clearing small patches of air in front of them, Damien slowly led the way to the center of the house. When they reached the basement door, it was barricaded closed, voices yelling on the other side.
“Move that!” Damien yelled.
They hauled away the furniture in front of the door, choking and gasping as the smoke stung their eyes and suffocated their lungs.
“It’s getting worse!” Rodric yelled, actual flames coming from a nearby room sending waves of heat at them. “Can you blow the door open without hurting anyone?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Damien stepped close, hands hovering just over the locked door handle. A sharp crack heralded the opening of it.
Relief swept through Rodric as he peered down the stairwell. As he was about to start down after Damien, thunder boomed. The house groaned, walls and ceiling shaking as a loud crack crumbled the wood above the basement. Black charred debris fell into the screams below.
Damien stumbled on the stairs, losing his balance. Rodric dove after him, catching his arm and throwing them both backward toward the top of the stairs, away from the crumbling mass.
Strong hands hauled him up from the ground. “Go! Get to the nursery!” Damien’s oldest brother, Roarke, ordered, appearing out of nowhere like an avenging spirit. “I need Damien to move the debris.” Shoving Rodric in that direction, he then pulled Damien up, both of them entering the partially collapsed stairwell.
Rodric wanted to argue, but Roarke had an intimidating stillness to him that provoked immediate compliance. He did as the warrior bid and skidded to a stop in front of another barricaded door.
“No!”
Fear pounded him as he pushed at the furniture, the heavy piece barely moving.
“Let me help!” James appeared, apparently having snuck out after them. Coughing, he added his weight to Rodric’s. Together, they shoved the piece aside and slammed the door open.
His sister’s white-blonde hair blazed brightly in the smoky room, where she knelt in the far corner with Jena and another girl he didn’t know, along with a bunch of younger children huddled with them.
“Avery!”
“Oh, thank the stars!” Avery whispered, relieved, as she stood and hugged him before turning back to hustle the little ones. “See, Jena was right! Our brothers came to save us. We’re all going out together, okay? Let's go!”
They filed out of the room, carrying the younger children, with James leading. Halfway through the house, a splintering crack halted them, but low visibility kept him from seeing where the danger was.
“Look out!” he called as Jena screamed, knocking her clear as a beam of wood from the ceiling crashed nearly on top of them. “Are you alright?” He took the toddler she had cradled to her chest and reached for her arm to pull her to her feet.
“Yes, I—” She collapsed with a yelp, hands going to her leg, where a jagged piece of wood had torn into her thigh. How was he going to get them all out of here?
“I can help.” The small, resolute voice came from behind Rodric. He turned to see a younger version of Damien looking up at him, same serious dark eyes shot with green but much curlier hair—the twins’ younger brother, Sam.
“Okay. You take the baby, and I’ll carry Jena.”
Handing over the toddler, Rodric lifted Jena, taking most of her weight so that she could hobble out. Shaking, she still nodded to him that she could do this. The child in Sam’s arms was half his size, but he appeared fierce and determined.
Rodric nodded to the boy beside him. “Stay close to me, Sam. We need to move fast.”
Weaving their way through the blazing inferno, they made it out, where a dozen people were gathered, various degrees of ash and soot covering them. Jena whimpered as he set her down and then he collapsed beside her and sucked in clean air by the lungful. Avery ran over to them, crouching by Jena’s side.
“Rodric! I was so worried when you weren’t right behind us. What happened? How bad is she hurt?”
“Fallen b-beam,” Rodric managed between coughs. He glanced at Jena’s leg and fear surged again. “It’s pretty deep. Will she bleed out if we remove it?”
“It’s okay, Jena, I’ve got you.” Avery put her hands above and below the wood, eyes closed. “Rodric, when I tell you, yank it out and then put pressure on it to slow the bleeding. Ready?”
“Avery, are you sure that’s—”
“Now!”
Scrambling, he did as she said, pulling the spike out and tossing it aside before pushing on the wound, feeling Jena shudder under his hands as she passed out from the pain. Sparkling heat shimmered over his hands as Avery poured healing magic into Jena’s leg. Glancing up, he remembered the growing crowd and shifted, blocking her from view with his body.
Avery trembled from the exertion but smiled. “She’ll make it.”
Rodric swallowed as he scanned the crowd. Damien was missing, as were both their mothers. “Where’s Mom? Did she make it out?”
“Not yet. Rodric…” Avery looked at him, eyes pleading.
Despair knotted inside him. No one could survive much longer in the house. “It’ll be okay, I’ll go.”
Taking a big gulp of fresh air, he dashed inside and collided with Roarke, who shoved a few survivors past him toward the door. Before Rodric could ask him where to go, the side wall of the house gave way to ravaging flames, causing a plume of smoke and debris to explode around them.
Roarke shoved him to the ground and covered him protectively as they waited for the debris to settle enough to move. Hauled to his feet again, Rodric stumbled after Roarke toward the center of the house.
“Help!” Damien’s voice sounded from under a fallen beam, his upper body crushed.
Heart racing, he helped Roarke free Damien.
“Get him out of here, I’ll try to get our mothers,” Roarke instructed, squeezing Damien’s shoulder before disappearing into the blazing house.
Half carrying another Zafar sibling, Rodric managed to get them outside, dropping down on the ground next to his friend once they made it to safety.
“Your brother is one scary guy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Damien gave a short laugh before choking on smoke. His hand tightened on Rodric’s arm. “Where’s Jena?”
“I got her out and Avery healed her. Jena is going to be fine.” He smiled as he happily shared the news that they’d succeeded. “We saved them.”
“Thank you.” Damien smiled, relief shining in his eyes that his twin was safe before they fluttered shut, his grip slackening.
“Whoa, stay with me!” He tried to keep his friend conscious, tapping his face and gripping his shoulder. “Damien! Your siblings are all out, but they’re going to need you. You have to stay awake.”
Avery knelt on the opposite side of Damien, her face draining of color as she assessed him. “He’s bad, Rodric.”
“I know.” He swallowed the tears. “Can you do anything for him?”
“Let me try.” Avery closed her eyes, laying gentle hands on his shattered chest.
A racking cough tore through Damien as Avery worked, and Rodric lifted him up so he wouldn’t choke on the black gobs oozing out of his throat—a very bad sign.
New fear, sharper and more distinct than before, pricked him as he watched the two people he loved most.
Eventually, Avery opened eyes that were frantic.
“There’s too much damage, I’m losing him.” Desperation filled her voice as she worked, the glow of magic never fading as she spoke. “Rodric, help me save him!”
“I can’t, I’m not like you!” Everything in him rebelled in pure, unadulterated panic. It filled him almost to bursting, a ball of intensity growing in his chest until he could barely breathe. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.
“Yes, you are.”
“He’s too far gone, Avery. You have to stop!”
“I have to try to save him, Rodric. We all would have died without him!”
“It’s not worth the risk.” The horrible admission slipped from him, the betrayal to his best friend lancing through him painfully. But he couldn’t lose both of them, and Damien was beyond saving.
Avery pushed her hands into Damien’s wounds, blood staining her pale skin. Pure white magic radiated around her, practically pouring out of her in waves.
“Yes, it is. I’m not letting him die without trying.” Her light intensified to a terrifying brightness for a few moments before she collapsed, shaking, on top of Damien, light winking out in a flash.
“No! Avery!”
Bright green eyes met his as she reached out to touch his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I love you, brother.”
Lightning sparked through him with a harsh zap, combusting the worry suffocating him into a fire that consumed his soul.
“Avery!” Tears streamed down his face, clogging his throat when he tried to speak. Ash rained down around them as he pulled her into his lap, hugging her still form close.
Rodric choked, throat raw and scratched from trapped screams as the scene before him faded and he succumbed to the black depths of his mind.
“R odric!”
Gentle pressure on his chest pulled Rodric back to the present, and he grabbed for Celina’s arm like a lifeline, holding her close as he waited for his world to steady.
“Easy. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Her hands stroked over his chest in slow, soothing movements.
Breathing deeply, he focused on the feel of her fingers as they ran over his chest, until he could feel each individual one as it glided over his bare skin. The weight of her palms became a touchstone for his chaotic mind.
Finally, his lungs quit seizing, and he felt stable enough to open his eyes. Celina was sitting next to him on the bed, legs crossed beneath her as she quietly calmed the storm ravaging him with her gentle touch.
“Hey there. You made it back.” A soft, worried smile covered her face.
“I… Yes. Thank you.” He swallowed the emotion that tried to choke him as remnants of the dream slipped out of its box, lock broken by the onslaught of memory. “Sorry I woke you.” He must have been thrashing loudly for her to hear him from the next room.
“Rodric.” She waited until he met her gaze. “I’m a healer, and I work most often with the warriors. I’ve seen and experienced a lot of horrific things. You don’t need to apologize for a nightmare.” Her fingers caressed his forehead, pushing his sweat-tangled hair away.
Yeah, he knew. Her being a healer terrified him. Pierced him straight through the heart. He had pushed it out of his mind on their ride, been distracted by Sam during the meal, but now, it came rushing back. How long until she gives her life for someone else’s and leaves me too?
He flinched and sat up, moving away from her to the side of the bed. The desire to get to Zora and run flowed through him in a steady torrent, hindered only by Celina’s presence, calling him in a different way.
Proving herself a veteran at working with stubborn warriors, Celina settled on the bed, giving him space and quiet to come to terms on his own, her proximity supportive but nonintrusive.
Dropping his head down, he breathed deep, trying to exorcise the smells and sounds from his dream. The vividness had left his mind reeling, grief just as raw and strong as that day so many years ago. Avery. Damien. Sam.
He shook his head, disbelieving. Damien’s little brother—the boy who had trusted Rodric to lead him and his sisters out of a burning building—was asleep down the hall in this house, alive and whole. As leaders of the magic rights group that had been targeted that day, the Zafar family had been persecuted, hunted until they all died or disappeared, down to the youngest child.
He’d been terrified and argued vehemently when his mother had joined the group, wanting to fight for a better future for Avery. They’d paid the price for their involvement that day, for their attempts to change Eldrin society’s approach to dealing with the magic that was slowly growing in their population.
Rodric had heard about the tragedies that struck the Zafar family as the community turned on them after news of the fire spread; but, preoccupied as he was with his own anger and grief at the death of his mother and sister, he hadn’t had room for them in his rage.
Furious at the senseless death of his family, at how his father reproached his own wife and daughter in order to maintain his standing when the rumors began to surface, Rodric had run. Dropping warrior training, he had disappeared into the woods. Choosing a new, solitary way of life, away from magic, away from the memory of death, from the community that had failed them.
Haunting moments of his life consumed his mind as he sat at the edge of the bed, time indistinguishable.
Celina’s soft voice eventually broke through his haze. “I’m afraid of thunderstorms.”
“What?”
“Thunderstorms.” She opened her eyes to look at him. “They give me terrible nightmares. Flashbacks, actually.”
Once again, there was no pitying sympathy in her expression, just empathy. Was it being a healer that made her so comfortable holding space for others, witnessing the harshness of life?
“Thunderstorms.” That confirmed why she’d startled earlier.
“Yes.” She patted the bed.
He gave in, sliding in beside her.
“The night I used my magic for the first time, I was out in the forest during a really bad thunderstorm. The rain had already passed over that particular clearing, but in the valley of the mountain, it echoed for hours as the storm went on.” She shuddered, taking a deep breath. “It was the night my mother died. She was an amazing warrior.”
He wanted to wrap her in a hug but struggled with his own volatile emotions still. Reaching over, he took her hand instead and laced their fingers together. A painful silence settled between them for a moment.
“Do you have a hard time working with the warriors, if that is what she was?”
“Honestly?” Weary eyes met his, and he waited for her to continue. “It’s hardest for me to be at the Refugee Center. My mother was a lot more than a warrior. She was their champion. A leader of the refugee program and the Lightning Forces. Everyone respected her—warriors, council members, everyone. Connor took up her sword and followed after her.”
“And your sister?”
The ghost of a smile graced Celina’s lips. “My sister wants to rule the world. Or at least our corner of it.”
Her amused tone chased away another bit of his tension. “And you?”
“I’m just a healer.” Celina swallowed hard. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You’re not just anything, Celina. You’re more.”
“Except I don’t want the legacy that should be mine,” she whispered. It rang like a confession, her voice betraying more emotion than he’d ever heard from her, even when she’d begged him to help her find her brother. “It should have been hers, but I couldn’t save her. She was too badly injured, and I didn’t have enough magic, or experience, to save them both. So, I did what she would have done, had already done that night. I saved the refugee who was being hunted. The child she died protecting. I saved Sam.”
Rodric’s heart twisted at the pain emanating from her, and he pulled her onto his chest so he could hold her close. His mind reeled as it caught up with his heart, playing her words over as he stroked her hair. She and her mother had both saved Sam, just as he had. Linked without even knowing it all these years.
“The program means everything to me, because of what it meant to her. But I can’t…” Celina stuttered, a tear hitting his chest. “It hurts , to be immersed in it.”
“I understand that, more than you know.” Their mothers, his sister, Damien, all died fighting for something they were both afraid of. She hadn’t run as he had, but they shared grief and pain that had kept them from pursuing certain things.
“My best friend’s name was Damien.” Rodric’s throat tightened, the ravaging emotions tearing at him again. “He died in my arms. Indirectly, because of magic. Damien’s family was involved with a magic activist group, and the community turned on them. It’s… part of why I despise magic so much. It destroyed my family, and Damien’s.”
Celina’s arm tightened around his waist and she pressed a kiss to his chest. He let out a shaky breath and wrapped his arms fully around her, pressing a kiss to her head. The comforting embrace soothed him enough to continue.
“The entire Zafar family had magic. It always worried me. Damien’s little brother looked just like him. Dark curly hair, unusual green and amber eyes. He was always playing with rocks, though I don’t think his magic had developed yet. The last time I saw him was the day our mothers and siblings died, when I led him out of a burning house. Until tonight.”
Celina’s breath caught, and she pulled away to look him in the eye. “You mean…?”
“Sam is Althea’s adopted son, isn’t he? His original last name was Zafar.”
“Rodric…”
“We have more to tie us together than just Connor and Brenna needing rescue.” He touched her face as the shock faded and she smiled.
“That’s incredible.”
“It truly is,” he murmured.
“We’re going to save them, Rodric. Just like we all did Sam.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. Breathing in her scent, he let the sweet vanilla essence chase out the haunting smell of smoke, holding on to the belief that they would succeed in rescuing their loved ones. He just hoped no one died this time. They’d both lost too many people already.