32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Viola
I feel different. It's the first thing I notice when I stop to take stock of my body.
It is not bad, just different. I can't place my finger on it, but I just feel more.
More awake.
More aware.
More alive .
Every inch of my body hums like a barely restrained fire under my skin. It's pleasant, like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day. It's that feeling of knowing it's cold outside, but you're comfortable, so the cold becomes bearable.
"You seem perfectly fine," Plume says after assessing me.
I nod and raise myself from the chair, not feeling weak at all anymore. "I am. I need to go find Tulip."
Morrow's strong hand wraps around my bicep as I move to step out of the door. "Sorry, Shadowweaver. She loves you, but she doesn't like you right now. You need to give her some space to process what happened." His words strike like a mallet to my heart, surfacing memories of Max's face in the aftermath of my encounter with Amio.
"I agree," Mace says, his tone clipped.
To be honest, I'm surprised he's even here after what I said to him. I'm dreading what that conversation is going to look like. The man loves to process feelings that I would prefer to take out back and execute.
I rub the sore spot on my chest where the Sunfire's symbol now lives. It's smooth to the touch and slightly raised. It's not quite a scar, but that's the closest comparison I can make. Roughly the size of my palm and directly centered on my breastbone, it's not something I'll be able to hide. "This is going to take some getting used to," I mutter. "I don't have anything like this from Himureal."
"We all saw Himureal naked. He doesn't have anything like it either," Morrow responds with a chuckle. "So maybe there is nothing to inherit from him."
"Do we all really think I absorbed all of Solarius' fragment? How is that even possible?"
Plume pushes her wavy blonde hair behind her ears. "I wish I knew. No fae has ever held magic from more than one season."
"And I'm not fae." All three of them exchange glances that tell me they are hiding something from me, and I'm smart enough to have an educated guess. "One of you spit it out now."
Plume coughs and then casts her eyes downward. "You heal like a fae, not a human. You've now got a very large amount of magic in you. For all intents and purposes and with what we know, you're half a God at this point. I'm not sure if that makes you fae, but you are far from human, Viola. "
I pull both hands down my face in frustration. "Just fucking great." I don't even attempt to deny that Plume is correct. There is no other explanation, so once again, I am the unwilling recipient of powers that threaten to turn my life on its head. I push past the three of them and summon Shadow as I walk away from the home, quickly exiting town and wandering into the plains that lie between Pran and the Tella desert.
I'm vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, but I don't bother to turn around. "I'm really fucking good with blades, and apparently, I'm also a fucking God, so you may want to stay back."
"Never, Shadowweaver." Morrow's voice draws me up short.
"You drew the short straw, huh?" I say wryly. He laughs and grabs me by the bicep, dragging me further towards the desert.
"Fire, now, Shadowweaver," he barks at me.
I just stare at him. "I can't summon fire, Morrow. I'm a God of Winter, remember?"
"Not anymore. You're a God of Summer, too, now. Fire." He crosses his thick arms over his chest, brown eyes so dark they're almost black. His hair falls in braids around his face, and he carries the air of a warrior. History says he's never seen battle, but if his performance on the ship here is any indication, he'd be a tough match for any opponent.
But all of that doesn't mean I am willing to put up with his bullshit right now.
Gritting my teeth, I lunge towards him, hitting him in the jaw with a well-placed punch. His head snaps back, but he holds his ground. "Fucking Godsdamnit, Viola. I'm trying to help you here. You've got a plethora of foreign magic now swirling inside you, and it's magic I happen to possess. This wasn't the case with your Winter magic. Let me help you here. And don't fucking punch me again because I don't care if you're a God, I am not above knocking your ass out. I'm about the only person not pissed at you right now, let's try to keep it that way."
I rarely get embarrassed, but that punch has my cheeks coloring. "I'm sorry. I just feel so much pent-up rage, and I don't know why."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. Fire, Viola. You're feeling that magic, and you have to get it out. Linna's journal talks about Solarius being known for his temper, and it must come from the magic because it happens to all of us Summer fae when we first get our magic."
That makes a surprising amount of sense. I try to think back to the first days of practicing with Winter magic, of how specific I needed to be in my intentions. Mace likes to say that magic requires intentions and doesn't go rogue, but I have always seen certain rouge qualities in my magic, even if it's always been more powerful and easier to control with intentions.
I think about bonfires and ovens, of the housefire that took out three homes in Dalery when I was a child. My mind drifts to warm days on the shoreline with Max, the sun tightening our skin and freckling it the longer we stayed out. I even think of the casual way Zeph could send flames to the sconces in his home, how it would light up his face, making his auburn hair and beard shimmer.
"Viola, look at your hands." Morrow's words pull me from my thoughts, and I look down to see my hands both engulfed in flames as if I'm wearing gloves made exclusively of fire.
"Oh shit," I whisper, pulling them up to my face to look at them from all angles. Shadow moves closer to them, and if he could purr, he would because he is quite close to them, basking in the warmth the flame provides. "I feel so much better," I say, locking eyes with Morrow.
It's true. My shoulders are less tense, my mind is clearer. A piece of me on the inside has clicked into place with the conjuring of these flames. I'm reminded of when I combined magic with Morrow on the boat, how my body felt like every hunger I ever had was satisfied. I feel that again now, as if down to my bones, my body is sated.
"Fuck, I feel like I was sleeping for centuries, and I just woke up," I remark, still looking at the flames on my hands.
"Technically, that magic did."
"It's more than that. I told Mace that since I got the Winter magic, I felt like a part of me I never knew was missing had come home. This feels like I just woke up in that home for the first time." I sink to my knees and pull the flames back, my eyes watering.
This is really happening. I've denied it long enough.
"I'm an actual God, aren't I, Morrow?"
He laughs and joins me in the dirt. "Nice of you to come around, Shadowweaver."
It didn't take long for us to pack up and leave Pran, Tulip sharing goodbyes with all the people she knows and loves from her childhood. I take her coming with me as a good sign, even if she's barely speaking to me.
I told Harn what happened during the retrieval of the artifact, including what happened to Rew while he was trying to get the family out so it didn't have to resort to violence. Harn wasn't pleased with my actions and was devastated at the loss of Rew, but he was grateful I didn't kill Ryler. He agreed to keep our involvement in the injury to a minimum and smooth over the reaction of the townsfolk, so we left still having Pran's support.
Despite my protests, Morrow had me summon fire for the people of the town and to thank them for their assistance. More than a few dropped to their knees in front of me. It's not a display I want to get used to.
Colris is not far from Pran, and we can walk to it in just a day, so that is our plan now. The journey isn't terrible, with the sea on one side and a mountain range on the other.
Well, the terrain isn't terrible. The journey itself is. With Mace fuming and Tulip basically an empty shell, it is going to be a long day.
I drop back a bit from my position up front with Morrow to stand next to Tulip. She barely spares me a glimpse. "I am so sorry, Tulip. I know you cared for the man. But he was going to kill me so his daughter had the chance at sight. Not so she could live. So she could see. We're trying to save everyone."
"You think I don't know that?" Where I expect an angry voice, hers is just sad. "Of course, I know that the return of the Gods to knock Himureal down is necessary. I don't agree with your tactics. I don't agree with what you did. I'll never agree with what you did. But I know it was what was required of the situation."
I sigh in relief. "You do understand."
She whips her head to glare at me, straw-colored hair flaring around her face. "I understand, but I'm still furious. There had to have been an easier way to go about this." She drops her head down, and when she speaks next, it is so quiet I barely hear it. "But mainly, I'm upset with myself for not being more upset with what happened."
That stops me in my tracks, and Plume crashes into my back. The moment she spots the looks on our faces, she ducks around me wordlessly and catches up to Morrow.
"When I heard what Rew did for you, plus how Ryler was prepared to kill you and wouldn't give up the artifact, my first thought was, 'I would have done the same thing.'" Tulip's voice drops to an almost imperceptible volume. "But who have I become that that was my first thought, Lola?"
I reach for her hand and clasp it in my own. "It's growth. I can't say if it's good or bad growth, but that's what it is. You have been surrounded by so much darkness since you started the Race that it's going to change the way you see things."
"Am I losing my humanity?" she whispers.
"I can't answer that for you because apparently, I am no longer human myself, so that ship is long out of harbor for me." A rueful chuckle escapes my lips before I pull us to a stop and grasp her chin, forcing her to look me in the eye. "All I can say is that you are my Tulip. You are still the person who weaseled her way into my life and is now stuck with me. You're my family. Which means your dark thoughts are too. And if they ever feel like too much for you, give them to me. Let me carry them with me. Gods know I am used to carrying my own. What's a few more?"
Her clear blue eyes soften as I drop her chin, and she catches my hand as it falls to squeeze it twice before dropping it. "Lola, you're a God worth believing in, do you know that?"
"I absolutely am not." I roll my eyes and continue walking. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything. You're brutal when you need to be, not for the sake of it. You're caring and thoughtful to those who have earned your trust. You are a fierce protector. Those are the best things we could hope for in a God."
I scoff, holding both my hands behind my head. "I am also selfish, unwilling to discuss or consider feelings, manipulative, oh and did I mention selfish?"
"Well, I never said you were perfect," she laughs, "but I am sure none of the original four were either. But that's why you have us." She gestures to the three fae traveling with us. Mace glances over at us, and I catch a flicker of sadness in his eyes before he turns away from me. "We can help guide you. Just promise me you won't leave us in the dark again."
"I promise, Tulip."
"Now that that's taken care of," Morrow calls from in front of us, "Tulip, can you get up here and show us where we're supposed to be going?"