Chapter Forty-Six
Cold wind whipped at her cheeks as Isla hurtled through the air, screaming as the swing glided faster and faster. Andrew and his infuriatingly smug plans. She knew exactly what he had done—staying behind to hold off their pursuers so she could get away.
If anything happened to him, she decided, she’d wait until their next life just to personally throttle him.
And she would make sure he knew it was entirely justified.
She’d write herself a journal and leave it in a hidden chamber with clues to find it just like the Ossa Arcana did—oh, she’d find a way to let him know how mad she was at him for risking his life.
And for making her ride this ridiculous contraption, which hadn’t even been through health and safety tests.
Isla’s hands gripped the cold swing chains tightly at her sides, becoming painful.
The buildings below were growing larger.
It wouldn’t stop in time! The swing suddenly jerked due to the thickening ice above her, wobbling her precariously from side to side.
It slowed, skidding to a stop just before her face hit the wall.
Her heart beat rapidly, her nose inches away from death.
Well, not inches—she was being dramatic; the swing had stopped well before the solid wall of the building—but it felt that way.
Andrew and his beautiful, superior, puffed-up brain had calculated exactly where she needed to stop to keep her safe.
She was sure, if he wasn’t about to battle other Aetherians, he’d be vainglorious, delighting in his new method of transport.
Scrambling to get off the swing, she turned, looking up to where she had come from.
Andrew’s feet were perilously close to the edge, using his ice like a shield again to stop an Ignis Summoner advancing toward him.
He managed to get a shot at the man’s shoulder, reminding Isla of her own bruise from the Terra’s hard clump of earth, which throbbed in pain now that the adrenaline of the zip line was over.
“Andrew,” she breathed, “you annoying man. I can’t lose you.”
Another man—the Terra Summoner—looped a vine over one of Andrew’s zipline stalagmites and launched himself from the building. Isla gulped, realizing his intention was to follow her.
Andrew noticed the movement and glanced behind him, spotting the pursuer.
Seeing she was safe, he dissolved the ice, and the man following her plummeted toward the ground.
He landed with a sickening thud; from that height, surely he wouldn’t have survived.
Isla was glad he was too far away from her to see any details, but her stomach clenched at the loss of life.
With his attention diverted, Andrew didn’t see the shadow that approached his ankles, looped, and encircled him. The Summoner pulled hard then released, sending Andrew toppling backward over the side of the towering building.
Time slowed as Isla watched in horror, helpless as he fell toward certain death.
She tried desperately to think of a way she could save him.
Andrew somersaulted through the air, his glasses falling from his face.
He rotated once, twice, and then Isla gasped as he landed on a forming sheet of ice that sprang up beneath him at just the right time, the surface glinting like a frozen platform.
Relief swept through her that he was safe.
He twisted, his body curling and spinning with uncanny precision as he directed the ice board, almost as if he were demonstrating some new gravity-defying winter sport she’d never seen before.
He shifted his weight effortlessly, gliding the board up and away from the ground in a smooth arc and with perfect balance.
In one fluid motion, his hand snatched his glasses from midair as a splash of water handed them back to him. Isla rolled her eyes; it wouldn’t have surprised her if he high-fived the water in thanks after he pressed his glasses back into place with a flick of his fingers.
He was so masterful—not only able to create the board, but he also made sublimation enhancement look easy—so effervescent that it pushed the board off the ground and thrust him forward.
The Ignis Summoner tried to target fire at him, but Andrew was too fast as he dodged each bullet.
He rose higher to meet his foe. One firebolt came toward him when he had almost leveled with his opponent.
A surge of white light glowed along Andrew’s arm; sharp ice shot out from his fingertips, freezing the Summoner’s fire in place with a sharp crack that echoed across the courtyard.
Andrew skidded to a stop; ice exploded in a glittering spray as he halted. He sent a second jagged ice streak forward. The Ignis froze—not in fear; his whole body was literally encased mid-step as he tried to retreat.
Andrew’s stance was powerful yet graceful. He looked like he was riding the storm itself, daring anyone to challenge him. He pivoted, heading toward her.
Isla let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her pulse hammered, but she could only stare—awed, terrified, and entirely certain that she loved this amazing man. Juliette was right. He was a superhero.
“Now he’s just showing off.”
Isla nearly jumped out of her skin. George had appeared at her side, watching Andrew with a broad grin. Her heart lurched before she snapped at him, “George—you scared me half to death.”
“Sorry,” he said, his kind eyes flicking to her with a flash of regret. Then, turning back to the spectacle above, his tone lightened again. “But you have to admit—those moves were impressive.”
“Indeed.”
Andrew descended and approached them, stopping before he stepped off the ice board—calm as a man about to hand out exam papers to his students.
Isla rushed to him. He smiled, as though expecting her to fling herself into his arms again and repeat their earlier passionate kiss. And while that idea wasn’t entirely unappealing, she swatted him hard in the chest instead.
“Hey! What was that for?” He rubbed the spot, though his blue eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Next time you shove me off a building, Andrew, you’ll get far worse than a slap.”
Behind them, George let out a chuckle.
Andrew spread his hands, all innocence. “I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“And that brings me to my second point,” she shot back, her voice sharper than she meant.
“You do not get to throw me off buildings in the name of safety so you can fight alone. From now on, we face things together. Always.” Her voice trembled, betraying the fear she’d fought to hide.
“I thought I’d lost you, Andrew. I can’t go back to that lonely life. ”
His expression softened instantly, the teasing melting into something gentler. He bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, Isla, my darling. Even if you lost me in this life, I would find you in every other.”
“But that would leave a really long life ahead of me, filled with loneliness. Even if we found each other again in another life ... it would still feel too long to wait if I lost you now.”
He kissed the top of her hair.
“I know. I feel the same but whatever happens next, let’s face it together. I can’t guarantee the outcome, but I will fight beside you every step of the way for the opportunity to love you in every life, for as long as possible.”
Isla gave a shaky nod. She was glad he was safe, yet the fear lingered—fear of loneliness, of losing him.
Could her heart bear it if she did? She loved him, but could she truly open herself up all the way, holding nothing back, trusting that she would find him again and again—that she was Fated?
That even if they were lost to one another now, would she truly never be alone because he would always find her?
Footsteps pounded behind them. George and Andrew spun, green and blue light flickering in their respective palms, braced for another fight.
But Edmund’s deep voice cut through the tension, and they quickly snuffed out their Arts.
He strode toward them, Juliette half jogging at his side, her shorter steps scrambling to keep pace with his long strides.
“Quick,” Edmund said, his tone clipped. “Juliette and I restrained three of the remaining four men, but one escaped and sent a signal. More are on the way—headed straight for us after witnessing your little ice-board display, Andrew.”
Juliette smirked despite her ragged breath. “Nice moves there ... Captain Snowflake.”
“Come this way.” George limped ahead, opening a door and ushering them into the student dorms, guiding the four of them through shadowy corridors.
A figure emerged ahead from one of the side doors, his palms glowing white as he shut the wooden door without having to touch it—so sudden it was as though he’d stepped out of the stone wall itself.
The young man stood pale and rigid in the dark passage, the moonlight from an arched window slicing across him, leaving half his face drowned in shadow, half bathed in silver.
The effect was uncanny—part scholar, part specter.
His wide, hollow eyes only sharpened the impression of something haunted, something not quite of this world.
Edmund moved in a blur, seizing the boy by the collar and slamming him against the wall. Lightning flickered and hissed along Edmund’s arm, crawling down toward his clenched fist, ready to strike.
“What’s a student doing out of bed at this hour?” Edmund’s voice was a low growl, thunderous and dangerous. The air around him hummed with energy, the charged scent of ozone cutting through the old dusty smell of the dormitory.
“Jimmy?” Isla’s voice was shaky. Her student looked undone, frightened, and not just because a behemoth of a man held him at lightning point. Something was terribly wrong.
His eyes flicked to hers, and in them she saw both relief and sorrow.
“Professor ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” he said, his tone unsteady.
“Know what?” Andrew’s voice was sharp, cutting through the shadows.