Chapter 32
Anchored existed. That fact was already staggering.
But August’s power, this incredible magic Felix had never even heard of, made him feral with curiosity.
He wanted to know everything about it. To know everything about August. He wanted to dive into his head and soak in this new information like a warm bath.
He placed his open hand gently on the side of August’s head, thumb pressed against his temple.
August’s breath hitched, and Felix quickly pulled away.
“You’re sure you’re alright with this?”
August gave a small nod, his eyes on his lap. “I just need a second to focus.”
“I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
A few breaths later, he looked up, his grey eyes causing a flutter in Felix’s chest.
“Ready.”
Felix returned his hands to August’s head, closed his eyes, and flared his magic. The warmth of it spread through his veins, tingling beneath his skin.
At once, there was the shape of a child, and though it was a hazy, blurred image. The boy stared at him—at August, really. He looked nothing like what Felix had expected. No fog or nightmarish features. Just a boy made up of varying shades of grey.
Then the boy opened his mouth to talk, and black trickled from the corner of his mouth. Felix cringed.
Alright, that’s unpleasant.
“Play with me,” the boy said. His voice was strange, barely there.
“Leave me alone.” August responded. He sounded much younger.
“That’s rude,” the other boy replied. “You used to play. Why did you stop?”
“Please,” August’s voice quavered. “Go away.”
A scowl twisted the boy’s face, his vague features stretching and distorting, like taffy, his skin taut. His eyes sank into deep black pits, his skin rotting and peeling from his bones.
When he spoke again, it was an angry shriek that scraped against Felix’s skull. “I said play with me!”
With a jolt, Felix wrenched back.
“Solach!” he gasped, the image of the boy vanishing as soon as he let go. His heart thudded, and he fought to catch his breath.
August opened his eyes, unfazed by the memory. “He’s not even the worst one. Just the most persistent.” He shook his head. “My uncle. Spoiled brat throws a tantrum whenever he doesn’t get his way.”
Felix pressed his hand flat against his chest, willing his pulse to settle.
“Was that too much?” August asked, frowning. “I should’ve picked a different one. I just thought, that’s the one I’ve seen the most, so I figured I’d remember him clearer than any of the others.”
Felix blinked hard, the faint image of the boy still there behind his eyelids. “You see them every day?”
August responded with a sullen nod.
No wonder he seemed constantly on edge if that was what he was dealing with.
“How are you still functioning at all?”
At that, August smiled.
“That was amazing,” Felix said, beaming. “One more.”