14. Lucina #3
My shoulders fall. “Callan, I can’t even pick up a fucking flower, what makes you think—”
“Just try,” he insists. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Superstitious?”
“Very.”
He ponders that. Tucks it away somewhere in his thoughts. Then he reverts his attention to the rock. “Quit stalling.”
I exhale a deep breath, summoning magic until it crackles down my arms, and I swear his entire body goes rigid as I raise my tingling hand towards the rock. I envision what I want it to do, just like Delia said, then I release my hold on it.
My heart rate picks up when the rock begins to vibrate, then it lifts, hovering a few centimeters in the air.
“Good,” Callan says. “Now toss it.”
My hand starts to shake as more magic seeps through, and I can feel my hold on it slipping—
It comes out all at once.
“Oh, fuck,” he curses when the rock bursts into a million tiny pieces, the sound cracking through the forest like a firework.
I move to cover my head, but Callan beats me to it, forcing me underneath his arm while rocks fly out around us.
Most fall into the awaiting pool below, and it takes several seconds for the splashing to subside.
Several seconds spent tucked tightly under his arm.
My entire body has fallen into him, my ear pressed against his ribs, close enough that I can hear his heart beating. “Lucina…” he says, and I readjust quickly, pulling my legs back into my own space.
“I told you,” I blurt, when I feel him staring. “I don’t know why it’s like that.”
“I do,” Callan says plainly. “You’re scared.”
My head whips up. “I am not scared.”
His brow rises skeptically, then he presses his thigh back against mine as if the feeling isn’t as jarring to him as it is to me.
“Right before the rock exploded, your hands started shaking, and your magic took advantage of your doubt.” Callan holds my palm up to my face and I stiffen at the contact.
“You control it, Lucina. You never let it control you.”
My eyes narrow. “You speak of it like it’s a living thing.”
“It is. Magic is the very essence of life, and it only gets stronger as it’s passed down from generation to generation. It is living. It’s as alive as you are.”
I let out a heavy breath, taking my hand back out of his. “Assuming I am scared…” A hint of a smile plays at his mouth. “Which I’m not. But if I were…how do I…not be?”
I’d rather die than admit it, but I think he might be right.
This foreign thing in my blood is more than capable of ripping me apart.
I can feel it in the heavy thrum of it as it dances through my veins.
I can feel it in the fire that comes up my throat whenever I summon it, and even the dark pit that gets left behind when the rest of it is spent taunts me.
Of course I’m scared, I’d be stupid not to be.
“Don’t give it the power to scare you.” Callan’s stare lands on another rock—sorry, small boulder. “Try again, and don’t be afraid. I’m here if anything goes wrong.”
I arch a brow at him, and he smiles.
I don’t know who I’m sitting next to—but it isn’t the Captain. Not how I’ve come to know him. He was prodding through my memories only hours ago, threatening to wipe them from existence.
I straighten my spine, pull back my shoulders, and shake out my hands. Then I take a quick deep breath and let the magic consume me once more, confining it to my fingertips.
Chaos brews beneath my skin, and a wave of nausea passes over me as I raise my hand to the rock across from us. I pluck it from the ground, a tear running down my cheek as I try desperately not to vomit. I think I’d keel over and die if I threw up in front of him—
“Focus, Lucina.”
My breath is shaky as I exhale, a restless sea raging within me, and I’m being pummeled by the waves. The same waves that nearly drowned me three weeks ago.
The fear quickly gives way to anger and frustration. You’re mine, I tell the living thing inside me, but this time it isn’t a prayer; it’s a command.
You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine—
Something snaps—
And all at once, everything stops.
Every ounce of magic trapped inside stills, like it’s…waiting. Waiting for me.
Gods, I did it. I can feel it. It’s mine. Wholly mine.
Magic cracks exactly as I tell it to, and the rock falls over the edge. The splash that follows is music to my ears.
Triumphantly, I turn to face Callan, who mimics my excitement for only a moment before a flash of gold shimmers in the air around us. Something moves beneath my skin, rumbling like thunder, and when I look down at my hands—
A line of gold ink winds between my fingers, twisting around my wrists, and trailing up my arms. The mark of my bloodline. I feel it sliding up my neck like a snake, and I watch as Callan’s stare settles on my forehead.
He stumbles back a step, eyes dangerously wide and skin dangerously pale.
“What is it?” I panic, my heart beginning to beat erratically in my chest. “Callan,” I snap when he doesn’t answer, “what bloodline is this?”
His voice comes out breathless, and my entire world tilts on it’s side. “Van Reenan.”