Chapter 13
“They’re gone,” Zan confirms. “They won’t stay in Crystal Hollow—to recover they’ll need magic that doesn’t exist on this island anymore, and they won’t take the chance of being trapped here when the tide goes up. It’s over.”
“Yora, are you okay?” Teren asks.
My gaze snaps to him, the barest ember of Wrath curdling within me. “What are you doing here?”
Nomi steps in front of him. “My fault. We were trying to get Teren up here for his next lesson as fast as possible. I checked in town first to see if there had been whispers about newcomers coming in with the tide down, and there hadn’t been.
They must have moved fast to arrive between when I got back and when we left. ”
I want to scream.
That means it’s no one’s fault.
Just bad timing.
“They’ll be back,” Teren says quietly.
“For all of us,” Zan says grimly. “They won’t let Nomi go free, now that they suspect she’s been knowingly involved.”
“What can we do?” Teren asks, dread edging into his voice. “Keeping me hidden was one thing when they didn’t know I existed, but now—”
“They can’t have you,” I interrupt him.
“Yora, you wouldn’t have had to fight them if I hadn’t been here—”
“Well now I have, and they’re not going to forget,” I snap. “It’s done.”
Nomi cuts in, “Everyone take a breath, and let’s talk about this with fewer emotions involved—”
“Absolutely the fuck not,” I snarl. “I will not repress myself for you, either. My emotions just saved your life.”
“And are your emotions going to solve our problems now when there’s no one to fight?”
“They’d better,” I tell her grimly. “And there is always someone to fight.”
“Well maybe save that energy for people who aren’t on your side,” Nomi says, and the sanctimony I read in her tone sets me off again.
“If you want me to not be full of wrath, you are not on my side. I am wrath incarnate. I am not myself without my anger. Do you want to make Teren smaller, too? Do you think if you can make him small enough to be easily digestible he will be safe?” I snarl.
“He won’t, and neither will you—you’ll just be easier to eat. ”
Zan steps between us. “Nomi, Teren, go inside please. Store the ice cream, unpack whatever you brought for us. Don’t do anything that will make me bite you.” He looks hard at Teren when he says this last, and Teren clenches his jaw but nods tightly.
“And where will you be?” Nomi asks.
Zan looks at me. “If Yora agrees, we are going to go to the lake to have a discussion at a substantially higher volume than I think you will be comfortable with.”
Despite myself, my eyes crinkle in amusement.
And while I’m still angry—not least that I have to vacate my own house in order to have the space to be my whole self—Zan is right. If Teren leaves now, he might do something stupid out of a misguided sacrificial impulse.
And Zan, at least, is not afraid of my wrath and will not shy from it.
He, I think, might be more my home than the cottage itself.
And that is a really distressing thought, considering I know he won’t be able to stay.
The urge to scream again is building.
“Yes,” I say abruptly, and make toward the path.
The same path I took to come here, to take a stand.
The same path the priests took, to force me.
The same path Teren and Nomi took, to dare to dream and have their hopes crushed instead.
Except a little ways into the trees, Zan taps my shoulder. “This way. We’ll cut through the bramble to the lake path.”
I draw up sharply. “It’s a different path? Why didn’t you stop me earlier?”
“And ruin your dramatic exit? Never.”
I snort and follow him.
So maybe I’m stomping a little, but the extra movement does me good; an outlet for all the emotion simmering in me.
“So?” I ask. “Are we talking?”
“About anything difficult, not yet,” Zan says. “I want to put some more space between us and the cottage before we start yelling.”
“I promise I can be mad without yelling.”
“I promise I know that, but I think you should feel free to yell if you want to.”
I blink at that.
Have I ever just... yelled?
Even when using my magic, have I ever been allowed to scream?
No.
Not when my unfettered rage would have made my captors wary of me, made them constrain me more, out of fear they wouldn’t be able to control me otherwise.
I have made myself smaller, too.
I peek up at Zan.
I wonder if part of why he understands me is that he has never been allowed to rail, too.
A dragon’s roar, after all, will draw dangerous attention.
As quickly as we’re moving—between Zan’s super speed even in this form and my anger fueling me—we whisk through the trees almost at a run, a hike that otherwise might have taken an hour streaming by in a whirl.
And then there is the lake.
Out of the trees, the vision unfolds before me.
A lake so serene I can see the reflection of the surrounding trees in it. Sunlight glinting, making the world look soft. Gentle birdsong in the air.
And then me, an intrusion into this world.
This is where Zan thinks I should scream? Let out my emotions on this idyllic landscape?
“Hey,” he says.
I look at him.
“Still think I need a bath?” Zan asks.
I blink.
Then he flashes a grin at me—a dare—that makes me catch my breath.
And he dashes away from me toward the lake and then takes a running dive right in.
I am mesmerized as his head pops up from under the water, as he shakes his head to dispel the water from his eyes, and beckons me, a smirk on his face.
How can any single person be this beautiful?
My chest is full of so many feelings—ones I probably have the training to name, but—
What am I supposed to do? Not join him?
In something like a daze, I follow him toward the lake.
And then I gradually pick up the pace, until I, too, am running—
—And jump into the water.
The shock of cold freezes my lungs. Somehow I didn’t expect the water to be so icy when the sun is shining in the sky.
Wide-eyed, frozen, I look at Zan next to me, shining too.
He wraps his arms around me, and the heat of them, his inner dragon fire, thaws me from the outside in.
“Scream, Yora,” Zan says softly, his ancient eyes endless pools that practically dare me to try to be too much for him to take. “It’s okay to.”
I still.
And then I do.
I scream and scream, letting out my emotion.
Allowing myself in this moment to be my whole self.
Because right now, here, with Zan—
I am whole.
For this one moment, it’s safe to be all of me.
My magic follows, a rising tide of magenta that detonates out of me like a shockwave, sending waves surging out of the lake and trees lashing in the physical wind I have created with my power.
And at long last, when my breath has run out and I gasp for air, I sag in Zan’s arms, banging my head against his warm chest.
“Should I have stayed asleep?” I whisper.
Zan’s arms tense around me. “No,” he growls.
“Teren was fine—”
“Was he? You don’t believe that.”
“He was in less danger then than he is now! He just wanted to be left alone, and so did I, and now... now I’ve set that all on fire, because that’s what wrath does. It’s what I do.”
“And what a glorious fire it is, which I say as a connoisseur.”
I clench my fists. “I will punch you.”
His arms tighten. “I know you wanted to be done with the Order forever, and believe me I understand.” His voice is fierce.
“But you know this was set in motion before today. As soon as you stood by me in the open, this was always coming. Expecting yourself to not start fires... that’s not reasonable, Yora.
You’re the one who said it: You are wrath incarnate.
If you want to be free, you are going to burn. ”
He’s right. I’ve managed to avoid accepting this because I’ve had so much else to process the last couple days, but this is why he was so upset with me before. He knew what I’d set in motion, and knew what it meant for me.
Zan didn’t want me to sacrifice myself for him any more than I want him to sacrifice himself for me.
Too late for both of us, now.
“Is it fair to allow myself to burn when other innocent people get caught up in it?” I ask softly.
After a moment, Zan turns a different question back on me. “Do you want to leave?” he asks. “I can fly you anywhere in the world.”
His voice is carefully neutral—burying his own emotions again, trying not to influence mine, which I’d be madder about except that the question stuns me for a moment.
I’ve never seriously considered leaving the empire.
Daydreams, sure. But maybe, now that centuries have passed—
I lean back a little so I can look him in the face. “Are sages still killed in other countries?”
In my time, we were always persecuted on other continents because of our concentrated power.
Magic distribution in other places in the world is more even. In Kameya, we worship gods in their aspects, and that’s why they have more power here. I was taught that the gods follow faith: without worship, how much they can affect the world is more limited.
So outside Kameya, while one single person can’t effect change in a big way on their own, groups of magic users can create big workings. Or in other places, their spell forms are so intricate that while no single person channels magic directly, they can do devastating work with enough preparation.
For any one person to wield the power of gods is considered too dangerous to be allowed.
It’s why in Kameya, the Order arrived at the idea that if sages are to exist, they should serve people, not our own interests...
But we aren’t only power to be used.
We are people too.
Zan sighs. “I don’t know, but probably. The empire hasn’t made many friends. We would have to try multiple places, I suspect.”
And maybe not ever find one.
So that would once again just be Zan sacrificing his home for me.
Sweet of him to offer, I guess, but also, no. Not like that.
And honestly, letting the Order chase me out of my home when they’re the problem does not sit well with me.
So if I can’t leave, and I can’t not fight them...
“Burning the fuckers to the ground it is, then,” I murmur.
And oddly, at this, what I now recognize as panic recedes.
I don’t know how I’m going to do this yet, but at least I know what needs to happen. And it feels right.
My power comes from clarity.
The Order is what makes it unsafe for me, and Zan, and Teren, and Eraya, and anyone in Crystal Hollow or the empire at large.
So the Order is what has to give. Not me.
Never me.
Zan eyes me, still carefully neutral. “Attacking them directly will only unite them.”
But he doesn’t, I notice, disagree with my conclusion.
“Oh, I know,” I say. “That’s always the trouble. If bringing my power to bear directly will make it worse, what can I do?”
A flicker of something across his face—hesitation, indecision?
And then Zan encloses me in a firm hug, and after a moment I realize why.
I’ve moved into trying to solve the problem.
I guess I scared him. That’s what made him go careful.
Not with my wrath, for once, but with trying to hold it back.
That’s always the crux of the problem, isn’t it? Deciding when it’s right to exercise my power. If I have power, how should I use it? Should I use it at all?
And if I’m the one deciding, how do I do so in a way that isn’t pure selfishness—or should I be more selfish? Is that more human?
Right now, I don’t have the answers.
But maybe I finally have the space to ask the right questions, and to find the answers for myself.
And that is worth fighting for.
“You realize, I hope,” Zan finally murmurs, “that you didn’t just use your power to destroy, back at the cottage? You didn’t kill anyone. And you protected Teren and Nomi.”
I lift my head up to blink at him in startlement.
“Ah. Hadn’t gotten that far yet.”
I punch him in the shoulder, but only lightly. “I have been a little busy having a meltdown, which you encouraged!”
Zan presses a kiss to my forehead, and I freeze.
“So I did,” he says softly, his gaze searching mine.
Whatever he sees there—probably my blank shock—makes him start to step back, and I quickly wrap my arms around his torso and yank him back to me.
He lets out a huff of air—amusement or from the impact of being slammed back against me, I’m not sure.
But I’m not willing to lose him. That’s one bridge I can’t burn.
But maybe... maybe I can burn others.
Some bridges need to be burned.
I did use my wrath destructively—breaking the priests’ unity, breaking their power.
But it was targeted.
With the ice, too, I used my magic to break it, but only so I could use it to create something new.
What else can I use wrath to do?
Just because I was taught it could only be one thing doesn’t mean that’s true.
Teren isn’t the only sage around here with a lot to learn, I think wryly.
Maneuvering so I’m only holding one of Zan’s hands, so he doesn’t think I’m letting go of him, I take a breath and drop back under the icy water for a minute.
Clarity.
Washing away the past.
Starting new.
Whatever they think they know about the Sage of Wrath—whatever anyone thinks, whatever I think—I’m going to show us all something new.
I’m a sage.
I’m also a person.
I will have ice cream and magic, and anyone who gets in the way of that is going to regret it.
I surface to find Zan has joined me down below, only our heads above the water.
Reveling in the pounding of my heart, I lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek.
Zan’s eyes widen; darken.
My cheeks, I can feel flaming.
No regrets.
Starting now, I’m making the life I want.
“I’m ready,” I tell Zan.