I opened my eyes. He was gone. Stone still and lifeless, I could no longer feel even the dark magic that had polluted his body.
“I’m sorry, Aaron.” I collapsed next to him and lay by his side. Though my chest felt full of electric magic, my muscles felt like jello. Too much magic in too short a time.
But I couldn’t stay like this. Aaron’s master was coming here to meet him. There was no way I could defeat him like this. We had to get out of here or my deirfiúr and I would end up like Aaron.
I pushed myself up. The lightning cage that had trapped Del and Nix had disappeared. They lay on their backs. Aidan was still on the ground as well.
Fear pushed the feel of the lightning out of my chest. I crawled over to Nix and Del. They were so pale, their dark hair spread out around their heads and their weapons lying useless at their sides. Their clothes were singed.
“Nix! Del!” I shook Del’s shoulder.
She moaned and opened her eyes. “I feel like crap,” she croaked.
“We’re going to feel worse if we don’t get out of here. Can you transport us?”
Weakly, she raised herself into a sitting position. “I think so. Just give me a second.”
“Okay.” I took one look at Nix to make sure she was only passed out—which she was, thank fates—and then crawled over to Aidan.
Sometime while I’d been with Aaron, Aidan had transformed back into a man. My hand trembled as I pressed my fingers to the pulse at his throat. Steady, but faint. I nearly collapsed in relief. He would live.
He was sprawled across the stone floor, easily two hundred pounds. We weren’t going to be able to carry him. I’d deal with that in a minute, though. I had only a bit of strength left—enough to destroy the scroll or to borrow Aidan’s gift and heal my friends. They could be healed after Del transported us home, but the scroll needed to be destroyed now, before Aidan woke. It was ruthless, but it had to be done.
I pushed myself up and staggered over to the black bag that lay near Aaron. It was a crumpled black gym bag—not nearly impressive enough to contain what it did. That little bit of humanity made a lump rise in my throat.
I picked it up and undid the zipper. An unimpressive scroll of vellum and the two chalices were inside. I wanted to open the scroll and see exactly what it said about me, but we had no time. Aaron’s master could arrive any minute. We should take the scroll back and destroy it at Ancient Magic, but I wanted to be able to tell Aidan that it had been destroyed in the lightning battle and hadn’t made it back with us. Besides, this was the perfect place for my brand of destructive magic. I couldn’t burn all this stone.
Del appeared beside me. She leaned heavily on my shoulder. “Is it in there?”
“Yes. I’m going to try to destroy it.” I withdrew the scroll and threw it on the ground about ten feet in front of me, then glanced at her. “You might want to back up.”
She stepped back.
For the second time today, I tried to access my magic. It felt a bit more natural this time, but still foreign. Even trying to use it made my heart pound. I’d trained myself to repress it for so long that this felt entirely wrong.
I closed my eyes and focused on the magic within myself, letting it unfurl in my chest. It woke with a bang, rolling over me, as if it had been waiting years to be willingly released. I suppose it had been. I’d used it before—but only in unconscious moments of panic. Though I was freaked out right now, I was still consciously accessing my magic.
It felt strange and natural at the same time. But above all, necessary.
Flame would be needed to destroy the scroll. I reached for the flame that Aaron had taught me how to use. I felt the snap and crackle, smelled the scent of burning wood. I gathered it up and molded it, then released it in a great jet of fire that enveloped the scroll.
The fire roared, casting a glow on the cathedral walls. When it faded, I had to squint through the dark.
The scroll remained, lying untouched on the singed grass.
“Oh, shit,” Del said. “It’s protected.”
Damn it. “I’ll try one more thing, then we’ve got to get out of here.”
I reached for the spark of lightning inside me. As I had before, I envisioned myself as a lightning rod. When I had collected enough, I released a bolt at the scroll.
Thunder boomed and the lightning lit up the night with a harsh white light. Instead of one direct bolt aimed at the scroll, two burst from my hands. One struck the corner of the cathedral, crumbling it, and the other bounced off the scroll.
Double damn. I might have finally accepted being a FireSoul and taken someone’s powers, but I was still crap with my magic.
“It’s not going to work,” I told her. “We’ll figure it out at home. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
I grabbed the gym bag off the ground and raced to the scroll. It was cool to the touch when I picked it up—damned thing—and tossed it into the gym bag.