Page 136 of A Baron of Bonds
Surprise crossed his face when the bud grew in size, but filled with disappointment when it stubbornly refused to open, its sepals still tightly wound in a brilliant, waxy green.
“This is pointless.” He lowered his hand from the bud and removed his other from the soil, flicking the dirt from his fingers and pulling off his channeler ring to wipe on his green vest. “I couldn’t grow this flower if I had all the magic of Felgren. I’m not a channeler cut out for this. Something is wrong in the line of magic from Felgren to me.” He replaced his ring on his finger, mumbling, “I should just go home.”
I gaped up at him. He was certainly not the brother I remembered. He’d always had confidence, a laugh that filled the room and a lighthearted way about him that could lighten your own spirits.
Along with that came arrogance, and an assured sense of self of the man he was meant to become. After all the years we’d been apart, I wondered which of us had changed the most.
“Sit.Down.” I yanked on his arm, jostling him back to the earth. “You think your line of channel from Felgren to you is broken?” I used my frustration to shape my words into something he’d actually listen to. “Bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with your magic. It’s your unwillingness to really try. To really put all of your efforts into these tasks we give you. You’re stuck in the past, Philius, instead of growing in the present.”
“And what? I’m supposed to just wear these channeler clothes, this ridiculous ring, and follow along like nothing happened? Like my sister wasn’t given away by my mother and just left here to fend for herself? Like I didn’t almost die by the Baron who took her? Nowthat’sbullshit, Karus.”
I scoffed. “Neither of us can change what happened. It happened. It hurt us both. Changed the lives of thousands of people, but here we are—together again in this forest that feeds us magic. We have a purpose here. We can train our magic and do everything we can to stop the Blightress from ever taking anything from us again. But, no. You choose to mope. You choose to whine and complain. Look around, Philius. No one wants to be near you but me, so push your damn hand back into the ground and produce a fucking bloom.”
“I. Can’t. Do. It.”
Without a word I shoved his right hand flat on the earth and gripped his left in mine, placing his blackened fingers over the closed bud.
I filled my lungs quickly, letting my anger expand through me and sent my power to him.
He glared at me as if to say,told you so, before his orange light sparked under the bud and the bloom unfurled in a symphony of white.
He frowned, watching his magic continue to spark above his fingers.
“Keep going. Keep growing it.” I ordered, continuing my flow of power to him.
He dug his hand further into the earth, mesmerized by the dozens of buds that formed, growing larger before bursting into a sea of white, the leaves of the gardenia bush no longer wilted and yellowing. The plant grew, wide and sturdy, overtaking all the others in size and blossoms, and we both stood as it reached our own height.
I let go of his hand, crossing my arms, staring at him with hope that this would help him understand his capabilities.
“You did that,” he stammered, stepping back to look over the now massive shrub.
“No, you did. I used Cosensian Magic to give you some of my power, but it doesn’t work if there’s not a direct line to Felgren through the recipient. You could have done this if you would just practice pulling power from this forest. I’m just showing you that you are not irreparably broken. You are bruised, Philius, and bruises fade.”
He sighed, his brows still furrowed at the gardenia, glorious and pungent in his wake of power. “I’ll try harder,” he stated bluntly, crossing his arms at his chest.
“Good.” I patted his shoulder and turned to leave. “I’ll meet you at the lumen den after lunch. Revich will be free to go with us to the Blight then.”
“You’re still going to take me there?”
“Yes. Maybe seeing what we’re fighting against will heal your bruises faster.”
Chapter 58
Rev
Toyingwith the rhyzolm in my pocket, I puffed air from my lips, leaning against the stone wall of Ilyenna’s room.
No fever, no bruise across her chest, no sign of the Black Lung that had buried into Pompeii, but still, she was not well.
Talon pulled hair back from her face, his own full of fear.
“It’s nothing. Really, you two don’t need to hover over me like this.” Her voice was firm, at least, and not raspy as Pompeii’s had been.
Talon squeezed her hand tightly. “We’re just concerned after what infected Pompeii.”
I’d never seen him like this. I supposed even the strongest of men were soft to the ones they loved most.
I tried to voice his reasoning. “Ilyenna, I don’t wish to worry you, but you’ve fallen ill not long after the Black Lung. We believe we’ve cured the disease, but we could very well be wrong.”
