Page 25 of Within the Flames
Amber didn't need to be told twice and scrambled from her seat. She was probably running to her mage. Izban wouldn't be able to save her from Macey's wrath. No one could.
Macey glanced back at Flint's still and lifeless body. Inwardly, she could feel the tears that wanted to fall, but something within her wouldn't let them go. She couldn't allow the pain to take over. Not when she had her anger to sate.
Without wasting another moment on the dead, she stormed back out of the room and through Malan's house, paying as little attention to the people around her as she had when she'd come in.
She slammed the front door closed behind her and ran into the middle of the field in front of the house. Macey fell to her knees, bruising them as she did, and let out a keening scream. All her rage, all her pain, all her fury, let loose in one loud scream. She could have been mistaken for abean síwith the noise she was making. Maybe becoming one of the heralds of death would be preferable to this torture.
"Macey!"Amber called out.
Macey got to her feet, spurred on by the hatred bubbling in every part of her. The woman was behind her. And she wasn't alone. Macey didn't need to turn around to know that. Howdareshe bring back up. She thought she was so much better than Macey. She thought she could take Macey's place. And yet, she needed other people to help take Macey down.
She spun, throwing her hands up and feeling power crackle around them. It felt different from her water magic, but she didn't question that in her rage. Nor did she pay any attention to the small part within reminding her that none of what the voices said was true. That none of what had happened was Amber's fault, and even if it was, it would have been an accident.
Her eyes hardened as she stared at Amber and Izban. Some of the other assembled beings were flanking them, but she didn't focus long enough to figure out who they were.
"Howdareyou try to take them from me!" she shouted, her gaze burning through them all.
Amber tried to speak, but Macey shushed her in a motion, a crackle of flames following after her hand. That should have been enough to stop her. To calm her and make her stop, but she didn't want to. She wanted to get rid of the rage inside her. Unleash it and let it destroy everything around them all. Why should anyone be happy when she was left like this.
Flames leaped from her hands and into the dry grass, singeing and burning everything in its path. She should call it back into her and stop this madness. But the time for should had passed. Now was the time for retribution.
"Macey!" Flint's voice called.
How cruel was her mind. Reminding her of the voice of her dead love. She willed the voice to go away. To leave her be in her grief.
"Macey! Stop!"
No. She refused to listen to the phantom. He was gone. he couldn't be talking to her, advising her, helping her. She closed her eyes against the chance of seeing him. She didn't need any more torture than she was already enduring.
"Macey, please?" he begged, his voice closer this time. "You're going to hurt someone."
"Only those who deserve it," she spat out.
"No one here has done anything to deserve your anger, Macey. Please listen to me."
"Why should I listen to you? You're dead and gone. You've abandoned me." Her anger waned every so slightly, but only to be replaced by sadness and regret.
"Dead? I'm not dead. You saved me."
"I saw you dead," she countered. "Don't do this to me, Flint."
"I'm not doing anything."
Hands slipped around her and she tried to fight them off. Who was conjuring such visions? Making her think Flint was with her again? It was despicable magic. Vile. Whoever it was should be burned. She could arrange that. All it would take is a flick of the wrist.
"Macey, please open your eyes?" Flint begged, his voice low and soft in her ear.
"No, you're not real. I can't do it. I can't face it." She shook her head furiously.
"I promise you, I'm real. you can see me and touch me."
"How do I know it isn't just some vile trick? To force me into submission."
"You just have to trust me," he whispered. "But I can help you with the flames. You don't have to let them be so out of control. Trust me, Macey, please."
Something clicked within her and she opened her eyes in time to watch the crackling flames on her hands diminish and turn into nothing more than sparks.
Slowly, she turned in the man's arms, almost screaming when she saw it was indeed Flint holding her. He had a serious expression on his face, and still looked a little too pale for her liking, but he was with her, and he was alive. That was the main thing.
