Page 24 of Torn Ivy
“Actually,” Cathy says, surveying the aftermath, “that was quite impressive.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “Impressive? I nearly tore a hole in reality!”
“Yes, but you also managed to fix it. With help,” she adds, nodding to the guys, “but still. You’re learning.”
“Learning to what? Accidentally summon half of Thornfield and turn the garden into a light show?”
“Learning to work with your power rather than against it,” she explains. “When you stopped trying to control it and accepted help instead, the magick responded positively.”
I look around at the others. Ramsey and Josh are checking the garden for any lingering effects, while Torin, Bram and Tate haven’t let go of my hands yet.
“That was terrifying,” I admit quietly.
“But educational,” Tate says, squeezing my hand. “We learned that your power responds well to our energy. That could be useful.”
“We also learned that I can accidentally summon people across vast distances and potentially reshape reality when I lose control. That’s less useful and more terrifying.”
“It’s all part of learning,” Cathy insists. “Though perhaps we should take a break before trying anything else.”
I nod weakly, still leaning on Tate for support. The magick has settled somewhat, but I can feel it buzzing under my skin, ready for action.
“Next time,” Ramsey says, picking up what appears to be a crystallised flower, “maybe we should practise somewhere more remote.”
“Agreed,” Cathy says with a nod.
I close my eyes, feeling the lingering energy in the air. This power is more dangerous than I realised, but also more connected to the guys than I expected. Maybe that’s the key - not trying to handle it alone but working together.
“Come on,” Tate says softly. “Let’s get you inside before you accidentally summon a Dragon or something.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” I mutter, but allow him to lead me towards the house.
As we reach the door, I glance back at the garden. Despite returning mostly to normal, there’s still a faint pink glow in the air, like an echo of what happened. A reminder that my power, while beautiful, is also potentially catastrophic.
I need to learn to control it better and fast. Because next time, we might not be so lucky.
10
TATE
Impressive isn’t quitethe word I’d use for what we just witnessed and what we were drawn into. Terrifying, maybe. Awe-inspiring, definitely. The raw power Ivy possesses is beyond anything I’ve ever encountered, and as one of the most powerful warlocks in the realm, supposedly, that’s saying something.
“That was fucking intense,” Torin mutters, joining us. His clothes are slightly damp from helping the merpeople. “We need to talk about this.”
I shoot him a warning look. Now isn’t the time for one of his lectures about control and responsibility. Ivy needs rest and support, not criticism.
“Later,” I say firmly.
Once we get her settled on the sofa with a cup of tea, I join Torin and Bram in the kitchen, dried off with magick and looking around for something decidedly stronger than tea.
“This is bad,” Torin says without preamble. He looks pale from being out in direct sun and under that light show. It will have weakened him probably more than he is letting on. “That kind of power is not natural.”
“Nothing about this situation is natural,” I point out. “She’s literally a cosmic glitch.”
“A cosmic glitch who can tear holes in reality,” Bram adds. “Did you feel how easily she absorbed my magick? It was like throwing a match into a bonfire.”
I run a hand through my still-wet hair, frustrated. “What’s your point? We can’t exactly put the genie back in the bottle. The power’s part of her now.”
“The point is,” Torin says, lowering his voice, “we need to figure out how to help her control it before she accidentally reshapes reality or summons something we can’t handle.”
