Page 129 of Our Radiant Embers

A stiff afternoon breeze tugged on my clothes and attention as I picked my way through the emerging landscape of the residential area. Gale stood with Benedict and Eleanor Harrington, an unfamiliar woman completing their group. Christ, I wasn’t in the mood for a patented Harrington game of verbal chess. I also wasn’t sure how Adam had explained suddenly putting Gale in charge—a chance to grow, perhaps. Either way, Gale had told me the idea of an alliance was still on the table, so clearly no blame had fallen on me.

I hadn’t seen Adam in eight days.

Focus.

They turned at my approach, polite expressions framing lingering tension. The energy tower was still troubling them, and if they’d thought to ask me, I could have told them a thing or two about how the elements were in misalignment, competing rather than complementing each other. At some point, I might have to speak up anyway to avoid delays to the project. Not quite yet, though.

“Liam.” Benedict Harrington managed to sound less displeased than usual. Eleanor and the other woman nodded, Gale the only one who sent me a genuine smile.

Leaden grey welled up behind my forehead.

I curled my hand into a fist, nails digging into my palm. The sting of pain served as an anchor. “Good afternoon. Here to check on the tower, I see?”

It was an obvious conclusion given they were standing right next to it, but Eleanor frowned in response. “We will have it up and running in the next couple of days.”

Really?

I glanced at it and shifted through the layers of my vision. It was—oh, wow. Blazing like a beacon, the interplay of magic a constant shift, thick branches whipping at the air. They’d reshaped the water spiral and had redistributed the inner fire, splitting it into three when it had been an unbroken column before.

“That’s…” Bright, dizzy spots swam through my vision. I blinked them away before I continued. “That’s excellent news. Congratulations.”

Residual magic glowed in front of my eyes and cast its hazy shine on the world. The unfamiliar woman seemed lit in shades of blue, white, orange, and green. Impossible.

“Oh,” Gale said. “Liam, may I introduce you to Madame Isabelle Blanchard, who is visiting us from Paris. Isabelle—Liam Morgan is co-leading the Green Horizon Initiative with us.”

Blanchard. Isabelle Blanchard.

A descendant of Margaux Blanchard—my great-grandfather’s slighted fiancée.

Blue, white, orange, and green.

“A pleasure,” Isabelle Blanchard said, a lilting accent softening the contours of the words.

“Enchanté,” I managed just as another wave of nausea crashed over me. Isabelle Blanchard’s face blurred into a painting by Edvard Munch, all fluid, haunting lines.

“Are you quite all right?” Gale broke in, and huh, I must look a bit of a mess if he felt compelled to ask. I met his eyes—or tried to, rather, but his silhouette went in and out of focus.

“I’m…” Vertigo crashed over my head, something pulling me down like the restless buzz of my own magic before it had settled. Far stronger, though, a thousand irresistible voices in my head, clamouring for space and attention. I let my gaze soften to catch another glimpse of Isabelle Blanchard’s magic, gravity dragging me down. The last thing I noticed was Gale reaching out to catch me.

The world narrowed to a pinhole.

Then it went black.

24

ADAM

‘Liam collapsed. Thought you might want to know.’

My mind went dark for a second, sudden dizziness washing over me. I sagged against the kitchen cabinets. Early evening light spilled onto the tiles, the rhythm of the sea welling in my ears and the letters of Gale’s message dancing in front of my eyes.

Liam collapsed.

Liam.

Collapsed.

When I called Gale, he picked up immediately. “Hey.”

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