Everything, I said in return.
There is an old tongue spoken by wizards. It is in these words that magic forms in those that have it in their blood. The spells and incantations and words of power that bring the magic surging forward, from out of the blood and into the real world. It draws from everything around us. It draws from everything in us.
Only a few didn’t need those words.
Morgan.
Randall.
They had centuries of experience to draw upon. They were one with the old tongue, the language of magic. They didn’t need the words aloud because they’d built it up inside of them. Their cornerstones had given them the foundation to become something stronger than the world had ever seen. They formed their words in their heads and hearts, and the thoughts alone brought the magic into the world.
I was like them, in that respect.
I didn’t need those words either.
But there was a difference.
Sometimes, I didn’t even need the thought.
So when I pulled myself to my full height, there was no clear plan in my head. There was only the thought that someone had taken from me, had taken Tiggy, my friend. Had taken Ryan, my cornerstone.
And it was enough.
The sand began to swirl at my feet. First it was just a small corona, whipping itself around me as if caught by a moderate wind.
But it grew.
Clouds began to form in the sky above us, and as I turned my face upward, I felt what little moisture there was being sucked out of the air. The clouds were black and gray, and they trembled and they shook even as the thunder began to roll.
The corona was bigger now.
Much bigger.
The path was made clear beneath my feet, an old, worn stone thing that had been rubbed smooth by the moving sand.
And it grew bigger still.
Lightning arced in the clouds above. I wasn’t ready for it yet.
And it didn’t matter that I hadn’t done this before. That I’d never used this much magic before. None of it mattered. The only thing I could think of was Tiggy. And Ryan. And getting them back.
The corona had given way to a tornado.
The sky was dark now, almost like night had fallen, though it was still midday.
There were others, I knew. Other people I cared for. But they were safe. They would let me do this.
And then I raised the entire sea of sand.
It shot up around me on either side of the stone path, rising high up toward the storm above.
And I could see them then. Through the sand.
The mermaids.
There were dozens of them.
Later I was told that only seconds passed when Ryan and Tiggy were pulled under the sand. That everything that happened and everything that followed was only seconds.
But it felt like ages when I stood there under a desert storm, an ocean of sand on either side of me.
And when I brought the lightning down, when it sparked down from the sky toward me, there was only one thought in my head.
You won’t take them from me.
The lightning struck me, entering through my head, snapping across my brain, down the back of my neck until it settled in my chest, wrapping itself around my heart. It was mine, and it’d always been there, but this was the first time I’d actually called it to myself, however unconsciously. Three times I’d been lightning-struck: once by Dark wizards on a dusty road on the way to a dragon’s keep, once by the wizard Randall in an attempt to make a point, and now.
It was warm. It was electric. It felt alive.
And every time a mermaid was swept toward me, the lightning would arc out of me, out of my hands, out of my chest, my eyes and mouth and throat and heart. It snapped into the sandstorm, electrifying the sand and solidifying it as the lightning traveled through it. It smashed into the heads and chests and tails of the mermaids.
Lightning had a curious effect on sand. I’d seen it once on a beach near the Port after a great storm had rolled through the coast. There were several strikes along the beach, each leaving scorched holes in the sand. When they dug around the holes, there were glass-lined hollow tubes that branched off into the ground. Petrified lightning, Morgan had said it was called.
And that was what I created now.
The mermaids screeched and rocked their heads back as they were electrocuted, clawed fingers flexed and stiff at their sides, eyes open, their gaping maws pointing up into the sandstorm around them. The swirling sand fused into their skin, hardening until it cracked into place. Electricity poured from their mouths, colliding with the sand, lining their insides with solid crystal that grew out of them in ominous shapes.
And it was as this storm raged around me, as it froze these creatures into glass, that I searched for my loves. I pushed through the sand, the lightning so hot at points that it didn’t solidify so much as it vaporized the sand away from me. There was electricity at my feet, and with every step I took, the sand became solid and supported my weight, creating a staircase through the roiling sea.
One of the mermaids caught some kind of draft and hurtled toward me, claws reaching to tear my throat out, but the moment before it touched me, the moment before hooks sank into soft skin, I pushed toward it, and it exploded in a bright flash.
I found Tiggy first, caught in the storm. He was spinning in a slow circle with the remains of several mermaids floating by, the pieces of them reflecting the lightning as it swirled around him. He reached out, a look of awe on his face as he pushed one of the pieces, watching it twist in place, electricity crawling along the surface, little sparks trailing where he had pressed against it.
His great brow furrowed when he saw me. He cocked his head. “Sam?”
I nodded, unable to speak, unable to do anything but find them, keep them safe, keep anything from hurting them.
“You do this?” he asked.
I nodded again.
He smiled at me as thunder rolled above. “Sam magic is strong magic,” he said, reaching a hand out for me. He trusted me completely. He knew I could never hurt him.
I put my hand in his and we went away, away, away.