Page 147 of Our Radiant Embers

No. He walked right into the pillar as though it called to him.

I scrambled upright just as my dad knelt by Gale’s side and propped him up, face twisted in concern. Magic punched at my dad, had him reeling for a second just as Gale coughed and doubled over. Alive, thank God. Another surge of magic crashed into the ceiling. It held.

But Liam. Liam. Caught in a storm of lightning, too much for just one person. Tiles cracked under his feet, and my entire body pulled tight with the thought that I was going to lose him. I couldn’t, no. Not again. I started for him and shook off my father who tried to stop me, who yelled at me to stay back. It registered dimly—not important.

“He’s inciting it!” That was Eleanor, and the sharpness in her voice made me whirl around just in time to throw up a wall of fire. It swallowed the flames she’d hurtled at Liam. Don’t you fucking dare. He’s mine. I didn’t know why he’d entered the pillar but I trusted him. With my life, if necessary. Whatever it takes.

I built the wall up higher and wound it all the way around us, blocked him off from my family. Just him and me now. A first good look at his face, and fuck, he looked like he was in pain, burning up just like Christian earlier. I reached for him, caught his elbow, and he gasped.

“It’s too much. I can’t—” Words slurred, syllables blending together. “Thought I could hold it but—too fucking much. Need you to get away. Out of here. Out of London.”

“No.” I held on to him and felt the edge of a terrible pull, like staring into an abyss and slowly swaying closer. What was it he’d said all those weeks ago when I’d started helping out with his prototypes? If I took care of fire, it freed him up to focus on the other elements.

I could do that.

Stepping fully into the pillar was like nothing I’d ever done. Wind tearing at me, heat rushing down my spine and ice coursing through my veins, the ground rolling under my feet. I sucked in a breath that nearly froze my lungs. On the edge of my awareness, my magic bucked as she strove to get to me. I’m okay.

“Get away,” Liam repeated, almost pleading now, pupils so wide they nearly swallowed the blue of his eyes. I laced our hands instead.

Instantly, my perception shifted, the individual branches of magic clearer now. Orange. I called whole branches of it to me, let thin tendrils of blue wind around my arms and chest too. They squeezed me as though I were a fun little toy, theirs to play with. It hurt, Christ. I’d sat in a massage chair once that had fully enclosed my arms and legs. It was like that only it didn’t stop, bone-crushing pressure. Black flitted around the edges of my vision.

Focus.

I reached out with my mind. My own magic had always felt like a collective kind of intelligence to me, a million sparks making up one consciousness that felt vastly different from that of a human. I sought out the bright centre in the cloud of light that tried to crush my bones. Talk to me.

I felt its attention turn to me with the blinding radiance of a spotlight. The pressure eased just slightly, and I drew a deep breath. Talk to me.

A wave of rage washed over me—second-hand agitation, a confused sense of being uprooted and trapped, a claustrophobic need to break free and return home. The circle a cage, this room a prison, escape, scared, tear it all down. I’d never thought of magic as belonging somewhere, but perhaps I should have—mine was tied to me as much as she was anchored in this city. If it could take decades or even generations for magic to truly adapt to a new place, it stood to reason that it wouldn’t take well to being torn from its natural home.

Where’s home?

Impressions flitted through my mind that I couldn’t quite grasp, gone too quickly—soothing shadows and a sense of weightlessness, the heat of a sun ray, the trickle of rain. The crushing hold on me loosened just slightly.

Can you find your way back?

It was a mosaic of emotions that answered me, certainty and longing mingled with the claustrophobia of being trapped.

If I help, will you spare this city?

Again, the pressure around me gave way just a little. Help how?

By setting you free.

Yes. Go home.

I checked on Liam. Green and white still swirled around his figure, interspersed with hints of blue, but it was gentler now, twining around him rather than trying to tear him apart. Funny—even magic couldn’t help falling in love with him. The thought was coated in a hint of hysteria, relief bubbling in my stomach. I could have lost him, oh God.

But I hadn’t.

“Liam.”

“Adam.” As his eyes found mine, his face was calm, voice serene rather than triumphant. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. You?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good.” I squeezed his fingers.

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