Page 2 of The Light Within

“If Cinn says—” He was silenced by Cinn’s hand clamping around his forearm, accompanied by a quick shake of his head. Julien turned to him,allowing himself to be calmed by the depths of his wide golden-hazel eyes, just visible in the moonlight.

Stepping closer to Julien, Cinn murmured into his ear, “What about if you tried with your… special mote things?”

Julien glared Cinn’s suggestion back down his throat before Darcy and Elliot got wind of it.

Since he’d recounted the tale of defeating the umbraphage using motes in the shadowrealm after a decade of not channelling, his two best friends had been relentless in their encouragement for him to do it again.

What they, and Cinn, didn’t understand was how dangerous his nameless motes were.

Even if Julien started with lumenmotes or any other mote, how long would it be until he gave in to the temptation to tap into the awesome power theothermotes offered?

No, he couldn’t go there. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Because the last time he’d channelled them, he’d crumbled a church half to rubble, and killed his mother.

“No!” hissed Darcy, snapping Julien’s thoughts back to their current crisis. “It’s going into the library!”

Indeed, there was a flash of a black, sinuous tail under the portico of the Aurelia Library, before it slunk through the open heavy oak doors. Clearly the rebellious minx wasn’t bothered about their no pets policy.

The four of them entered the building to be greeted by a pleasant librarian who snapped, “We’re closing in five!”

Bypassing the Greek Mythology section, the cat padded merrily through numerous bookshelves to head straight for…

“Surely not,” Elliot muttered in disbelief, as it slipped through the ajar door of their favourite study room. The one they’d spent countless hours in with Béatrice over theyears.

A light push on the door, and then all four of them stared into the room, where the creature had already curled up on the ancient Morris chair that Béatrice had favoured.

Julien swallowed, his heart thundering at the sight. There was no denying it now. This was her, his sister that he’d grieved for so deeply every day since her death half a year ago. She had returned to him. As a shadow cat,oui, but he’d take what he could get.

“Béatrice.” Julien took one tentative step towards her, hand outstretched. In an instant, she hissed, leapt up on all fours, and turned her head towards the open window just a cat-jump away.

Rude.

Julien’s heart plummeted as he bit back a low groan—all these hours, and they were about to lose the goddamned cat, potentially for good this time.

Her eyeless head tilted upwards, and Béatrice poised herself on her hind legs, preparing to leap.

“Oh no. Don’t youdare, you little bi—”

“Elliot!”

Darcy reached out to slap Elliot’s arm, but it was too late—Elliot channelled the large amount of windmotes from the blustery weather outside to send a burst of cool air shooting in through the open window, a powerful blast that yanked the creature away from the ledge, knocking her onto the floor.

The cat made an indignant screech, shadowy fur writhing as she arched her back, claws attempting to find purchase on the polished wood as she tried to scrabble away from them. It was no use—Elliot’s powerful air current overcame her valiant efforts, and soon she relented, curling into a dark ball that flew towards them, floating several feet into the air.

Before Julien could react, Cinn lurched forward, wrapping his arms around the cat to bring it to his chest, pressing her firmly against his hoodie. “Shh,” he said, as the cat squirmed and thrashed, swiping forCinn’s face with her left claw. Cinn brought the hemline of his jumper up and over the furious bundle, blocking her escape. He sank to the ground on his knees. “We’re just trying to help you, alright?”

It was the most ludicrous sight—Cinn on the floor, whispering sweet nothings into his hoodie-cat-trap, to a wiggling, screeching creature that didnotseem to appreciate his efforts. If Julien wasn’t so exhausted, he’d surely be shaking with laughter.

Eventually, the miracle occurred—the squirming calmed, then ceased, then—

“Is it…purring?” Julien couldn’t believe his ears.

With a smug grin, Cinn beamed up at him, his eyes wide with childlike glee. The sight of Béatrice curled up in Cinn’s hoodie warmed Julien’s cold heart, his annoyance at the cat quickly melting. If she preferred Cinn, so be it. Julien preferred Cinn too.

Cinn released the grip on his hoodie slightly to reach in and stroke the thing made of shadows. “There we go. Hello, little friend. Sorry that the mean bloke tried to scare you.”

A strangled sound came from Elliot, followed by, “Well, that’s one way, I guess. At least it likes one of us. Can we go home now?”

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