Chapter 12
twelve
. . .
Ever
“There is no we,” I yell, splaying my fingers wide as I gesture with my arms. I will not just roll over to whatever they say. I will fight. Fight to get out of here and back to the people I care about—the people I love.
“We’ll see.”
“You can’t force me.”
“You mean like you just forced Benedict and Shara to give their power to you?” Blood rushes to my head, turning everything fuzzy around me as my eyes dull with realisation.
With Fenix’s words, Micah’s animosity slams into me, and I remember how disgusted he was that I took his power to aid my own. Like I just did to the two strangers.
No, not strangers: Benedict and Shara. I used them, without considering the consequences, only to benefit myself.
Emotion cloys at my throat as I swallow what I’ve done—naively, perhaps. I took something of theirs without their permission. I knew I’d be stronger and needed their magic to combine with mine, and I took it without care.
Just like Micah said I did when Ten was in danger.
“Are you starting to see now?” Fenix’s words grate against every nerve, stoking my emotions.
“I don’t see how what you’ve done is any better than what you proclaim to be fighting against. You have threatened and coerced me to do what you want.”
“Maybe. But that is the price of this war. It’s what our parents started, and I intend to finish it.”
What?
“Stop it. Stop it! You don’t get to throw out information like that in a bid to win me over or control me.” I march towards him as he casually crosses his arms over his chest in a move that only infuriates me.
My lungs burn as I hold my breath, sizing him up and choosing my next move.
The Maker said that my emotions would be my spark and threaten to overtake me and my power. Well, right now I want to burn. And I don’t care if Fenix is the one who gets hurt.
I feign twisting to turn away but bend my arm at the last minute and aim the point of my elbow deep into his gut. It catches him off guard, and I hear the umph as he creases. I don’t stop, and I clench my fist and strike his cheek.
And it feels good. The contact is fleeting, but it wakes me up, jolting me, and I risk it all again to plant my palm on his face.
This time, the energy from my chest bursts free, as if anticipating or finally recognising Fenix’s own magic. There’s still that strange divide, like the two streams of power don’t quite want to mix, but now, out here, I can see the result of our touch.
What our magic can mix to form.
The world has… stopped.
The trees are frozen, stilled in their movement, and the sounds have silenced, as has everyone around us.
Everything is frozen. Except for us.
It’s like we’ve stopped time, wanting a moment before it plays on, locking the two of us away, safe and protected from the rest of the world. Except I’m trapped inside the bubble with the one person that I despise.
“Incredible. I’ve only ever been able to extend my power over people, but with you…” He sounds awed, and it twists in my gut.
I close my eyes and concentrate, terrified of what’s around us—of what we’ve done—and what I’ve shown to him.
Don’t think of your power as a singular thing. It is earth and space and time and everything in between.
The Maker’s words ring in my head, and I wonder if this is because of me or Fenix. He can manipulate our bodies, freeze them to the point of stopping my heart from beating and overtake us, control us. This is just… more.
He said he wanted me at his side. For what? What does he need from me?
While he’s distracted by our little trick, I force my stream of energy towards him, willing it to obey and hijack the connection already between us. In that split second, I focus on his intent and hope I can peek further into his thoughts this time.
My vision swims into a blurry scene, and it grows clearer, another vision or memory perhaps, the same setting, here in the woods, but Kalan is with Fenix and the Usher. They’re talking.
Jealousy clouds my mind, turning the vision into nothing but smoke, and I rip my hand away from Fenix. As soon as I do, the world around us comes back to life, loud enough to drown my hurt that Fenix has answers that I don’t.
“You know, I thought you’d be different. I thought you’d be grateful to find the answers you so clearly want,” Fenix spits at me.
I need to go. My feet shuffle back, as I’m aware that the people around us are now all focused strictly on me. But I’m sick of playing along.
The urge to run is all I can think of now, but I don’t want to be chased. So, I opt for the next best thing and march past the tented area. To my surprise, nobody tries to stop me. I keep going, my power vibrating the more anger I feel, like it’s feeding my magic—enflaming it.
When I was in the Variscite Forest, I could hear the trees, as if they were alive and could speak to me. My magic held without physical contact, which was a little terrifying, but it worked. Would it be the same here?
“Where are you going?” Fenix calls after me, which is a step up from incapacitating me. “You can’t run.”
I can. But to where? I keep marching, but hear another set of footfalls behind me.
The trees grow denser, blocking out more of the light as I venture deeper into the forest. I strain to hear, to pick up any voice or other feelings on the wind, but these trees are silent except for the rustle between their leaves.
My rational mind reminds me that I could be walking into danger—more danger—or could come face to face with a living monster in the woods, but surely Fenix would have stopped me if that were the case.
He doesn’t want to see me harmed.
At least I hope that still stands.
I don’t stop, my heart pounds in my chest as my breathing grows heavy, until I clear the thicker area of trees, and the ground turns rocky and steep.
But as I round a large boulder, the Usher blocks my path.
He’s waiting, as if he knew I’d be coming this way.
“Ah, Ever. Good. You’ve saved me from having Fenix fetch you.”
“Fetch me? I’m leaving.”
He nods and does that creepy smile.
Hands grab my arms and start hauling me forward, beyond the boulder, towards the foothills of a cliff. No, a mountain. We’re near a mountainside.
Two men, on either side of me, do the wrestling, with Fenix overseeing. My boots slide as I dig them in and try to anchor myself in the dirt, but it’s no good.
“You did make this rather easy,” Fenix mocks.
“What?”
“You really should take up the Usher’s offer of training. One thought from me, and you were marching out of camp, even along the right path. I didn’t have to control you at all.”
No. No, this was my decision. I throw my weight to the left and strain to see him. He’s cocky and full of it, reminding me of how he looked as he walked into my cell.
The memory stirs a deeper essence of my power, like it’s still learning to wake in this new land, but it’s begging to be let loose.
It feels different here, like it wants to answer me, it wants to be heard, even if it’s harder to call on.
But the men holding me wear gloves and hold me through layers of fabric.
There’s barely a hum of energy from them, but it doesn’t stop me from wrestling them.
Even if there’s nothing for me to draw from, I fight.
I thrash, shrug and jerk my arms, feeling their grip only tightening and all of us travelling in the same direction.
Foothills of the mountains come into view through the trees, as if the leaves are drawing back their curtain, and remind me of the terrain of Kirrasia and the Jet Mountains.
The trees frame an open expanse with a staging area similar to the training ring, just there’s only one circle here, and it’s smaller.
The rack of weapons to one side doesn’t fill me with confidence.
As I’m dragged farther along, a mouth of a cave grows from a shadow to an ominous gash in the side of the slate grey rock. Its craggy overhang serves as a shelter, but as we grow closer, it makes me think of jaws, threatening to swallow you whole.
Black metal bars are the teeth that will hold me, running from the jaws of the rock into the ground, and a man stands guard at the entrance.
This is worse than the cell in the Tower. That had walls and light. This place…
“No. Please. Don’t…” I wish I didn’t sound so desperate, but I am. I don’t want to be locked in there.
“We can talk about your accommodations in a few days. Know that it was very interesting meeting you, Ever Hart,” the Usher says, the politeness soured by the words.
The man at the barred gate swings it open as we approach. My arms yank back and forth, trying to shake my captor loose, but nothing works. My feet drag and dig into the earth, but with no purchase to stop my trajectory, I slide and slip, right towards my fate.
They toss me inside, and the gate slams on my back.
I turn and wrap my hands around the metal to shake it, but it’s cold and solid and doesn’t budge.
Fenix stands a few feet from my prison, his arms crossed.
“I wish I could say it didn’t have to be this way, but…” he shrugs, and walks away with the Usher, leaving only the sentry.
It might make me a monster, but I still lunge my arm through the bars to reach the man, but he’s smart, and out of reach. He doesn’t even turn to look at what I’ve done. Just keeps still. Watching.
So much for being a guest.
The cold claws through my clothes as if they were rags, exposing me to a bitterness that seeps deep into my bones. It’s inescapable in this cell. It attacks from all around. The ground that’s never seen daylight, the walls, impenetrable to the sun’s rays on the outside.
My nerve gave out before venturing more than a few feet farther into the darkness. As I ran my hand along the rough surface of the rock, the air turned stale, and my heart wouldn’t slow its rapid beat, as if the adrenaline knew I was trapped and wouldn’t find a way out.