Chapter Seventeen #2
“Her parents paid him off,” Juliette said at last. “Hush money. Her father’s people covered it up, and Harold—dear Harold—took over her education after that.
He wasn’t the vice chancellor at that point in his career.
He helped the young girl learn to control it .
.. and to understand what really happened that day. ”
She gave a humorless laugh, reverting back first person. “Because I wasn’t copying. That painting wasn’t only from my imagination—it was from my past. A memory from another life.”
Isla turned to her, wide-eyed. “You mean—?”
“I mean I painted it before,” Juliette said softly. “I was the original painter. I just didn’t remember until Harold helped me uncover it.”
“How did he do that?” Isla asked in a half whisper.
“There’s a technique,” Juliette said, her tone turning more serious.
“Only Aqua Summoners can do it. They can read memories—not just their own, but another’s—if given permission.
It’s illegal, of course, unless both parties consent.
It’s invasive. You’re letting someone swim through your past. All they need is a liquid from you—a tear, a drop of blood, even the sweat on your skin—and they can summon memories from it. ”
“That’s ... extraordinary,” Isla breathed.
Juliette nodded, watching her friend’s face.
“Extraordinary, and terrifying. Because you can’t always control what they’ll see, though I’ve heard some powerful Aquas can focus on certain time periods.
But because it is illegal to do without the right authority agreeing to it, it hasn’t been widely explored.
But Harold found a way to help me—my past life, my art, my fire.
He helped me understand that I wasn’t wicked or unstable.
With regards to my painting, I was remembering a truth.
The fact that my Aetheric Arts reacted like that was only because I was so young—too young to understand what I was doing, or to hold the power steady.
Still ... I’ve always been haunted by it.
Afraid of what might happen if I ever lost control again, of what I might destroy without meaning to. ”
Isla felt tears in her eyes at her friend’s experience and subsequent fear.
They walked in silence for a moment. Then Juliette said, voice lighter again, “So yes, that little girl burned a horrid man who called a nine-year-old a liar. But in fairness, he should have thought twice before picking a fight with a reborn artist. And don’t worry, she fully intends to get her happily ever after. ”
Isla’s laughter broke though, watery. She squeezed Juliette’s arm. “You’re remarkable, you know that?”
Juliette smiled, eyes glimmering in the lamplight. “Remarkably messed up, maybe. But I’ll take it.”
“I think we’re all remarkably messed up,” Isla said, “but I am sorry for your past hardships.”
The pair continued their walk over the Ouse Bridge, the river glinting beneath them.
Juliette smiled faintly. “It’s all right. What doesn’t break us makes us stronger, you know?”
Isla returned the smile. “At least we’re adults now. We get to choose our friends and escape awful tutors who clearly shouldn’t be anywhere near children.”
Juliette laughed, a genuine spark of amusement breaking through the somberness. “Indeed!”
Turning right, they approached the stone steps that led up to York’s ancient city walls.
The stones were slick beneath their shoes, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps of pilgrims, soldiers, and now, two modern women trying to make sense of the strange powers life had thrust upon them.
Isla may have been new to all of this, but it seemed Juliette was struggling despite being acquainted with her powers for years.
From the top, the view opened wide: the Minster’s great towers were now behind them, their outlines softened by mist, the rooftops of the old city glimmering faintly in the falling dusk.
As they strolled along the narrow path, the wind tugged at their coats and carried the scent of wet grass from the small patch that grew just below the wall filling her nostrils. She loved that smell.
“So,” Isla said after a pause, “if it’s not too painful to ask .
.. what can Ignis Summoners actually do?
I mean, apart from the fire and smoke, with which I’ve already had firsthand experience.
” She grinned, trying to ease Juliette’s discomfort—though she shuddered slightly at the memory of the smoke that had once stalked her.
Juliette scooped up her long flyaway hair, twisting it over her shoulder to get it under control.
“Well, most people only see the obvious—the fire, the smoke, the light. But there’s one more thing that isn’t so obvious.
We don’t only summon flame; we read through it.
Fire can reveal what’s hidden—it burns away pretense and illusion.
Some of us can sense lies or see truth flicker in another’s aura like heat on glass. It’s not always pleasant.”
Isla frowned thoughtfully. “So, you can tell when someone’s lying?”
“Sometimes,” Juliette admitted, “if I’m really focused.”
“That’s incredible,” Isla murmured.
“Yes, it can be, but it can also feel ... intrusive. You learn more about people than you ever wanted to. That kind of power can consume if you let it. Philosophers say fire is truth—it purifies, reveals, transforms. It can show you who people are, whether you want to see it or not.”
They walked on in silence as Isla thought about her words. She could see Juliette’s worry. It would be useful to sense lies, but maybe ignorance was bliss; lies could be hurtful.
The distant bells of the Minster suddenly echoed behind them.
As the bells hushed, Isla heard the men’s footsteps closing the distance behind them. A mischievous spark lit Juliette’s face.
“Though,” she said, lowering her voice to a playful whisper, “where a certain detective is concerned, I am finding that seeing the truth behind his words is very illuminating. I’ve been enjoying trying to solve this puzzle.”
Isla’s tone was playful but carried a warning for her younger friend. “Be careful, Juliette. Some puzzles can be rather difficult.”
Juliette’s lips curved into a smile. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to be patient.”
“Ladies,” Andrew said cheerfully, “we thought we’d better catch up to make sure you don’t drive off without us.”
“Perish the thought,” Juliette replied, looping her arm through Edmund’s before he could object.
Isla noticed Edmund stiffen almost imperceptibly, his jaw tightening, though she couldn’t say he looked offended, only unsure about her friend’s lack of concern about his This is my bubble; do not enter zone aura that he gave off to those around him.
She hoped her friend knew what she was doing and wouldn’t get hurt.
“In fact, I was just saying how grateful I’d be for your company, Edmund. Isla and I have just been discussing control over our Aetheric gifts, and as you strike me as a man who has mastered the art of self-control, I really could use some advice.”
Edmund studied her face. “I fear, Miss Juliette, that your company makes such composure somewhat difficult to maintain,” he said evenly.
“I’m sure it does.” Juliette beamed, as if he had paid her the highest of compliments. “Still, I am undeterred and seek your wisdom.”
Isla caught a snort of laugher from Andrew’s direction. She looked up at him and found amusement glinting in his eyes as he watched petite Juliette drag the large man along the Bar Walls of York.
“Do you think he needs a rescue?” he murmured.
“I don’t know. She usually gets what she wants,” Isla said dryly, glancing ahead at Juliette chatting animatedly to Edmund, who looked as though he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d been outmaneuvered. “I don’t think there’s any hope for him, even if we do stage a rescue.”
Andrew offered his arm, mirroring their friends ahead of them. She took it.
“You know,” he said, “Edmund and I couldn’t help but hear some of Juliette’s story. I’ve heard it before, mind you, but still—it’s tragic that sometimes Aetherians discover their abilities without anyone there to support them. She must have been terrified that day.”
Isla pondered his words. “As difficult as it’s been for me, you’re right. I am extremely grateful I had people around me whom I could ask questions.”
“Even me?” Andrew asked, his tone jaunty.
She thought to banter back—as was their usual rhythm, an insult wrapped in a joke—but when she looked over, she saw something uncertain behind his glasses.
There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and suddenly she didn’t want to spar with him.
She didn’t want to compete. She wanted to know him better.
Perish the thought that she liked Andrew!
After all, he had saved her, cared for her, supported her and fed her cake—and really, what girl doesn’t want to be fed cake?
She was aware of Andrew’s presence more than ever before.
Looking back on their so-called rivalry, she admitted to herself that he had never truly been against her.
Yes, he had always sought her out only to ruffle her feathers, but unlike so many other men in the academic world, Andrew had treated her as an equal.
More than that—he had competed with her as if he knew, without doubt, that she was capable of rising to the task.
When she thought about it—really thought about it—he had never belittled her in their competitions, not once.
Now, he encouraged her. He was also determined to keep her safe.
Had she been wrong to ever find him so infuriating? Perhaps. Was he truly so maddening, or had his brand of irritation been the kind that kept her on her toes? Had she enjoyed being maddened by him? Perhaps. There was a difference, and she was beginning to suspect it mattered very much.