Chapter 13 #3
“Control it, Q-tip,” Rowan said. “It’s a muscle, just like the ones we’ve been training. Drop your arm. Feel your magical muscles work and relax them.”
“You can do this,” Cayden’s voice came from my other side.
Heat radiated from the array, and another crack split the air. I pulled my hand off the knob, but unlike my destructive magic, nothing happened.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
A low hum filled the air, throbbing with magic. My magic. I could hear Everly in the background ordering people to stand back. A glowing wall of blood-red magic colored the world behind me, and Brit’s skin hardened into moss green.
If this blew up in my face, not only would I hurt my friends, but I’d black out and wake up somewhere. Possibly far away from here. Maybe so far, I couldn’t get back.
I screwed my eyes shut and imagined myself worshiping the porcelain god.
Then, I reached for that amazing sensation when it was over, feeling the cooling sweat on my body as my stomach rested pain-free, the hum of the bathroom lights, and the cool floor against my ass.
I embodied the sensation, forcing the memory into every fiber of my being.
I could suddenly feel my magical muscle in a band around me, burning with the same pain as my shoulder when holding a bow. I focused and relaxed it, and the heat radiating off my face stopped.
The hand on my waist pulled me, and I found my face pressed into the leather of Rowan’s uniform.
“This is torture.” Rowan’s hug enveloped me. “I hate that I’m not at your side. Yesterday… Quinn. I…”
Before he could finish, Uncle Berilo cleared his throat. “That was unexpected.”
Rowan released me and stepped back to his guard position. In a rush, the world expanded. Brit and Everly still held back the small crowd, now murmuring about my lack of control.
I backed away from Uncle Berilo’s forge so he could inspect it.
With my heart racing, I wrapped my arms around myself and shook.
I’d messed up. I’d broken something again.
This time, with the basic magic everyone could use.
I shouldn’t have even tried. This was how it all started when I was a kid.
It was going to be the same all over again.
Oblivious to my internal monologue, Cayden physically positioned himself between me and Rowan.
The magic protecting the onlookers vanished.
The twins and Brit returned to the dry tent, frowning and wet.
They had to protect people from me. Just like my dad had, this was a cycle.
How could I not see this? I should have at least waited and tried something alone.
Uncle Berilo turned back to me. He shuffled uncomfortably, but his eyes were wide open, and he smiled. “I have a few cracked crystals, but nothing that can’t be fixed, and more power than I will use in the next week. My deepest apologies, Lady…”
Wait.
Uncle Berilo didn’t look mad; if anything, he seemed uncomfortably impressed. I blinked as his words slowly sank in. I hadn’t broken anything that couldn’t be fixed. Why was he looking at me and saying, ‘Lady?’ The only Lady here was Everly.
I pointed at my friend. “Grierson… aren’t you two from the same family?”
Uncle Berilo flushed. Everly’s laughter cut through the sounds of pattering rain. She didn’t sound upset at all.
“I was referring to you,” Uncle Berilo corrected. “I do apologize for my earlier skepticism and lack of decorum. I hope this does not tarnish our working relationship in the future.”
My little spiral of self-doubt vanished. He was apologizing to me, even though we all heard something crack. I broke something. But it wasn’t a big deal.
Don’t do that. My least favorite words came back to me before sliding off. Do that!
A little zing of excitement lifted my world, and I stepped away from Cayden. Magic. My magic. I wasn’t the old Quinn. I wasn’t crazy for believing in myself. I was right to.
Uncle Berilo held out his hand. “Raw materials, please.”
I nodded, withdrawing my finger from the glass jar in my pocket, which I’d nestled with three others, each containing the precious metals and diamonds we’d painfully separated from my old toys. I’d never been so thankful I’d destroyed a phone before in my entire life.
The sparkle of my hair dimmed, and I froze. Until this moment, I hadn’t given a lot of thought to the world beyond getting my magic and protecting myself from the Architect. But Uncle Berilo was unknown to me. The kid in the turtleneck rubbed his neck again, exactly where my collar had been.
“You trust me, right?” Everly put her hand on my bicep.
I realized I was rubbing the same spot my collar had been while staring at this poor teenager. I lowered my hand and looked at my friend. Her lips were in a flat line with little wrinkles of stress at their corners, and she looked at me with wide, pleading eyes that begged me to do something.
“I do.” I handed Uncle Berilo my only connection to my magic before gripping my friend’s hand and meeting her gaze. “Thank you. It couldn’t have been easy to get your family to work with the Architect.”
“It wasn’t. We, um. Yeah.” She grimaced and also looked at the teenager. “But it will be worth it.” She turned her full attention back to me and grinned.
Cayden elbowed me and pointed at Uncle Berilo. “Assure him you’re not offended unless you are.”
I jerked. “Ah, right, no tarnish,” I managed to spit out eloquently. “Everly’s my friend, so you’re okay.”
Could I have said anything stupider?
“I appreciate your patronage.” Uncle Berilo gave me a polite nod. “Please call on me at any time. I will have your piece completed this afternoon and brought to Everly, as requested.”
I managed to pull myself together and gave him a sincere thanks, before turning. I met Rowan’s gaze, and his words came back to me. Yesterday. We hadn’t seen each other yesterday; I’d spent hours sobbing in Cayden’s arms about my dad.
Rowan knew.
I opened my mouth, but he shook his head.
I cursed Angela’s name, but nodded. Later, he would have a lot of explaining to do.
With a tug from Cayden and a lightness in my no longer magically overloaded steps, I returned to the library.
Three days later, I walked through the cold winter rain, warm.
It was the dumbest thing I’d ever been proud of, but the reason no one else ever seemed cold was because they weren’t.
Magic was ever moving. Between my new piece of jewelry and trial and error, I’d figured out how to direct the flow and heat myself.
It had limits. Too hot, and I’d run a fever and die, but just a little heat to stay comfortable was essential.
I didn’t always get it right, but I was learning. I’d even counted my pile of gold and paid back my friends, so I wasn’t in debt to anyone except the Architect—the man who’d saved my life and still not come forward.
Ezra said the Architect knew about my belly button ring, my own personal magic converter. Instead of keeping me too busy to think, the Architect had put everything on hold for me and Cayden so I could focus on understanding my magic. He’d shifted from relentless pressure to endless patience.
It was… uncharacteristically kind. And that, more than anything, made me uneasy.
However, he was apparently still too busy to meet with me. Like the weather, this situation was getting old fast.
I found my friends standing outside The Rooster, staring longingly at our usual table, which was filled with faces we didn’t know.
Brit came out of the pub, scowling. “There’s not even standing room. This entire castle is full to bursting. We need a second pub or maybe a proper canteen.”
No one disagreed, and after only a heartbeat, Everly took charge. We soon found ourselves lounging in her dorm, which was nothing like mine.
Posh. A word so fancy I’d never had reason to use it until now.
She had four rooms to my one, including a private bedroom and bathroom. The sitting area was spacious, with two couches, two lounge chairs, and a heat cone at the center. Hero moved through a real kitchen at the far wall, apron tied casually at his waist.
Every surface displayed art—paintings, sculpture, even the furniture. A record player spun Madonna, singing BT’s lyrics through a tiny speaker.
A door across from me led to Hero’s rooms.
I wish I had the privacy of a door. I’d popped into my dorm, thinking it would be sex-free in the late morning today, only to find Erick with his pants down and his cousin’s power slave watching from the couch. There wasn’t enough bleach in the world for me to sit on my couch again, ever.
“You can stop eye fucking my room, Quinn.” Everly grinned. “I mean, if anything, you should be looking at Hero in an apron like that. He’s a good cook. And if you were under contract, we would be actual sisters!”
Hero’s ears turned red, and I bit my lips shut. Cayden, sitting next to me, pulled me close and actually growled.
Everly ignored all of it. “How many Intentions have you gotten?”
I looked at Brit, who grinned. “She’s ask’n you, Lady Um.”
I snorted before wrinkling my nose. “I don’t know what an Intention is, so none?”
Everly stiffened, and even Brit let out a strangled cough.
“I don’t know either,” Cayden whispered in my ear. “We’re both dense this time.”
I relaxed and wiggled closer to my friend.
“An Intention is the first step to a contract,” Everly explained.
“And you should have several at this point. Some families wait to meet each other, but many reach out immediately. Intentions often include gifts and lists of benefits and alliances.” Everly furrowed her eyebrows.
“My family sent you one the moment my uncle told them about the forge.”
My eyebrows shot up to my hairline.
“They’ve offered you my oldest brother, who sired a girl last year. He’s sought after, but they did say you can have your pick, Hero included.” Everly grinned.
Hero didn’t turn from his cooking, but his ears turned a further shade of red that matched the heat coming off my face.