Chapter 17 Winter #3
My dad had just been on the verge of outright threatening the Head of the Guardian Movement.
For me.
Because of me.
Worse, actually. Because with him things rarely just stayed as threats.
If he… fuck… it would be over for him. He’d have his magic stripped, the very heart and essence of him, he’d end up in The Void imprisoned there. It would destroy him and my entire family.
I let out a scream as the powerful rush tried to ignore my will, wanting me to push harder, further, and slamming up against that part of me that wanted to keep this thrill going.
Wanting more, more, more.
To climb higher.
To reach every fucking where.
No!
My hands shook violently as I forced my arms down.
Down, down, down.
The lightning went out.
The raging flames of amber still shot up toward the sky, though.
Return. Fucking return.
I sucked in breath after breath, pulling harder, letting that sensation go. Forcing it away.
Distasteful. I had to believe it was disgusting.
And then it happened, my flame thinning out and retracting, reabsorbing into me.
The last couple of pulls were the worst and the force needed wrenched me down to my knees. I landed hard in the sand with a brutal jar.
But it didn’t matter.
My power went out.
I lowered my head, sweating, panting, shuddering.
And then arms were around me.
I jolted when I looked up, expecting them to be my dad’s, but they were Ketheron’s.
“You’re well. You’re well, tiny god.” He cradled me against him and even rocked me. “Shh. It’s over. You regained control. That’s what matters.” I heard footsteps, then him saying, “Isn’t that right, my gorgeous?”
I saw Ambrose now there, stroking Ketheron’s shoulder.
He smiled kindly at me. “Of course. That first extreme rush is difficult to reckon with. All powerful beings like us have faced that same fight. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, nothing dark about you, for that matter. Your father would tell you the same thing.”
Why wasn’t he?
“W-where is he? Where’s my dad?”
Ketheron helped ease me to my feet, and I turned in his supporting hold to see my dad now several feet in the distance arguing with Ryker Morgan. Both of them being aggressive about it.
Ketheron looked as worried as me.
“A balance just needs to be struck,” Ambrose assured us both. “It’s unfortunately a long overdue conversation they’ve needed to have.”
“Do you want me to call your mom? Father? Your Pops—actually, no, not Lazriel. He’ll throw himself into that vicious argument and escalate. How about your darling loves? Vaxan, Evira, Zayn?”
“It’s okay. No. That’s all right.”
“You’re sure?”
“I just…”
“He just wants his dad to be well, treasure.”
“Oh. Of course. He will be fine.” He whispered to me, “Do you really think even Ryker Morgan or the entire Guardian Movement can stop your dad?”
I startled at his words and also the look in his eye. He even winked at Ambrose.
“Ketheron,” Ambrose cautioned.
“What?” I asked. “What did that mean? My dad doesn’t possess unlimited power.”
The two of them exchanged another loaded look.
“What’s going on?” I pushed.
“Let’s just say that it’s not always about power alone,” Ambrose answered.
Ketheron tapped his temple with his free hand that wasn’t already busy supporting my weight. “It’s got a lot to do with smarts and thinking ahead… contingency plans, tiny god.”
What the—
A spark of green power erupted, and I saw Ryker teleporting out.
And then Dad’s crimson magic sparked all around us, and he teleported in front of me. He eyed Ambrose and Ketheron either side of me. “Thank you for taking care of him while I was… delayed.”
“Sylas, to be clear, Ambrose was going to channel me, and he would have then warped Risen Reckoning to make it temporarily ineffectual and unharmful. We wouldn’t have harmed Winter.”
“I know, K. It never crossed my mind.” He looked at Ambrose and I saw grief and something I wasn’t used to seeing from my dad—terror.
“You did everything right. Intervening would have done what you’d already realized,” Ambrose told him. “And now he’s not on that track. I don’t feel it from him.”
“And Ryker?”
“His reaction isn’t coming from his personal stance. It’s those he’s accountable to. The dark shadows of the past also. He wouldn’t have left if he didn’t recognize what Winter had accomplished today, so keep that in mind.”
“Accomplished?” I asked wearily.
Actually, with every moment that went past, I was growing so tired.
“You maintained control of supreme power, son,” Dad told me, easing me from Ketheron and tucking me into his side. “You did extraordinarily well.”
“I… didn’t. I almost lost control.”
Dad winced and told Ambrose and Ketheron, “Head on out, I need a word alone with my son.”
They gave a nod. Ketheron rubbed my shoulder. Then they both teleported out hand-in-hand.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” he asked, stroking my hair.
“The position I put you in with Ryker, not being able to keep control, and then causing all of that, a whole spectacle.”
He turned me to face him, holding my arms. “Win, I know that gripping, utterly enthralling sensation all too well. I know how it compels you so forcefully.”
“You do? You? But you’ve done this over a hundred times.”
“It’s really double that—at least.”
“I don’t… how can you keep control, keep a level head?”
“Practice—it truly does get easier because the sensations become more familiar. Necessity—I’m the only one able to do this, I have to. Focus—in the sense, not of the spell itself, but of holding onto something solid before going into it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I didn’t want to plant anything in your head, to lead you to fear or panic.
Also, only the last one can currently apply to you, and I thought it would be enough to have me right there beside you.
I’m alone when I perform it, so it has to come from within, not via external help and grounding.
” He held me tighter to him. “I’m so sorry, Win. ”
“No, I get it. Things don’t always translate over exactly the same, because I’m a hybrid. Part Wraith and Necromancer.”
“Not just that.”
“What then?”
“You’re not me, son.” He kissed the top of my head. “And I’m glad you’re not.”
“Dad, don’t say that.”
“You’re better than that.” He smiled. “Like I keep saying, you’re you.
And I want to make it really fucking clear that what happened here today is actually a testament to that, not a counter to it.
The control you exerted the first time reaching that level of power, with that specific spell as well…
it was remarkable. Truly, Win.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“More power than I’ve ever known from any other necromancer—dead or alive. ”
“Ryker was right?”
“What?”
“When he theorized that even you couldn’t stop me anymore?”
His grip faltered on my hands.
“Dad?”
“You mean, the same person who has no idea of my real power level?”
Relief sang through me. “Oh, right. Of course… yeah. Thank goodness.”
“There you go. You’ve always got a safeguard in me. Don’t worry.”
A nasty headrush took me then, and I collapsed into him. “Dad?”
“It’s all right. That was a lot of power in a short release timeframe. You need to rest. Then eat. A lot. I’ll give Vaxan, Evira, and Zayn some pointers.”
“They know about my pickiness with food.”
“Oh. I mean, of course they do. Maybe I’ll have your mom send over some of your favorites from Vantiqe at least?”
“Sounds good. Thank you…”
I felt his magic wrapping around me a moment before my eyes fluttered closed.
The world slipped away.
But then something blasted into my subconscious.
That voice.
That awful fucking voice.
“You’re ready. Come to me.”
No.
No!
It wasn’t time.
Too early. It was too fucking early.
I wasn’t ready.
I needed more time.
Just a little more fucking time.