With a tearing sound the ground shreds in a perfect circle around the pile of men still encompassing Colin. Like crumbling puzzle pieces the stones break apart in a thin swirl and sink down a half foot.
Shouts break out, scared rather than angry now, triggering a fresh tide of sweat sweeping over my skin. The cries sound similar to ones I’ve caused before. Except unlike me, Colin is in control.
Right?
The men scatter like ants, scrambling to hop over the shallow crater Colin’s created. Although, from their bewildered expressions, most haven’t figured out what, or who, the source of the disturbance is yet. But the blond official seems to have. As the crowd clears, I see him rise from his fallen position, and steadying his legs, he stalks back over to Colin.
I scream Colin’s name, but the crowd’s too noisy.
The official draws a knife from the sheath at his waist.
Blast you, Colin.
The thunder surges in so quick, my hood and hair whip back in a frenzy as a fracture tears through the sky. Loud. Immediate. The blond official glances up at the same time as Colin, and before the man can recover, Colin’s rolled out of the way.
I shut my eyes—sick with what’s to come as the energy snaps and sings along my nerves, charging the air with static. No, I beg it. Please don’t do this.
I force my thoughts to focus, to imagine Eogan’s fingers on my neck. Soothing my pulse. My fear. My anger. His breath a lazy breeze whispering words on my skin, telling me to aim for the trees. Except there aren’t any trees, just hovels, and pointy towers, and staggered streets leading up to the white Castle, and stone.
Stone.
I aim for the wider stone street in between a host of the buildings.
Focus. On the stone.
On Eogan’s voice.
On pine and honey and emerald-green eyes that slow my heartbeat.
The static crackles.
Focus on his words.
The friction dissolves as quick as it tensed, and my whole body lags.
And it’s over.
I open my eyes to see raindrops beginning to fall from the unnatural storm clouds, subduing the mood of the disarrayed crowd. Prompting some into laughter even. The blond official drops the knife as Colin’s foot finds his gut.
There’s no lightning strike.
No thunder.
No deaths.
Colin rushes over and takes my hand. He pulls me as the shower turns heavy. “C’mon, Breck’s waiting for us!” But I’m still looking around in thrilled wonder at what I’ve just done. How was that possible? I want to yank away from him and run and shout and twirl like a child in the thickening downpour.
I think better of it, however, when I notice the silver-toothed official with the black cloak standing on the porch of the common house. His hood is pulled back, probably from the scuffle, and his thin, handsome face is looking at me. All around, the people who’d just been fighting are now prancing in mud puddles or nursing broken bones. But he just stares. Curling his lips into a snarl.
As if he knows what I just did.
I shake off the feeling and follow Colin around the corner beneath an archway. And almost trip over Breck hiding in the shadows. She’s got a bit of shirt in her fist from whomever she bested, and in my euphoria, I start to hug her and laugh. And then I can’t stop even when I’m out of breath, and neither can Breck or Colin until we finally reach the horses.
The ride home is a flurry, partially due to the fact that we’re galloping the entire way with the storm pressing behind us. And partially because while I may have caused the storm, I also controlled it.
My heart lunges within my chest, like a bluebird trapped behind a bone cage that’s just discovered the hope of actual freedom.
And like those few times I’ve experienced it around Eogan . . . I want more.
Is this what I can do to turn the tide of the war?
Can I end the fighting? Even better—turn it into laughter? Perhaps both sides need to be reminded that they’re at the same mercy as the rest of the world. At the mercy of elements that Colin and I control.
As we near Adora’s estate, the rain slacks off, and I swear I can still hear Eogan’s calming tone in my head, telling me to focus. Everything within me is bursting to tell him how incredible I did, but the knowledge that he’d feed my body to Adora’s lethal fish will keep my lips sealed like a tomb.
At the house I climb down from my mare and hold the reins while waiting for Colin to help Breck. But for whatever reason Colin’s suddenly next to me, and his hands reach for my waist.
Breck’s still laughing at a level sure to wake the ghouls. “Did you ’ear that one man squeal? That official sounded so angry!”
But Colin’s not listening to her. My breathing stalls. His head moves in. What’s he doing?
“I think I should get Breck inside,” I say, but the words are absorbed in Colin’s cloak as he wraps his arms around my neck.
He chuckles. “You were amazing.”
I try to jerk back, but his hands are strong as he leans in to kiss me. My insides reel and collide with my backbone, and I do what I’ve always done with men who get too near.
I clout him across the jaw. Hard.
Then turn and run.