Page 33 of Wings of Lies
“Like I said, maybe you’ll find out one day. But today isn’t it. Give me a break, would you? I carried your ass through mud and hills, bandaged you, and laid you in the tent,” he said. “Possibly falling and dropping you a couple of times, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Sorry, you’re right. Thanks for saving me.”
He shrugged, looking guilty. I didn’t know why. He had done everything possible, and I was putting Oliver in danger.
“Oliver, have you ever heard of dream-walking?”
He frowned, brushing the mud out of his dirty hair. “No. Why?”
I glanced away.How much should I tell him?He had just risked his life to save me from elemental angels. If he knew someone was after me and that he might have to face more danger, would he still want to take me to Elora? I didn’t know, and I couldn’t risk it. But next time I could be prepared.
“Do you know what this is?” I showed him my wrist.
He grabbed it. “Yeah. It’s a faded Binding Rune created by an Archangel’s feather. Those runes are nasty little shits. Who carved this onto you?”
“I don’t know. I barely remember it. But I think I’ve had it for years.”
Surprised, Oliver dropped my arm and stared at me. “Years? Your powers have been suppressed for years? Do you have any idea how unhealthy that is?”
“No. Memory issues, remember?”
He shook his head. “Binding Runes are supposed to be used for a year max. They suppress anything supernatural. They’re for children who grow into their power too early and have control issues. It doesn’t happen often, so they’re not used often. I guess I’ve also heard of angels carving them into prisoners of war to weaken them. But they’re supposed to be temporary. You’re saying you think your rune was active for years?”
I nodded. “It’d make sense. I’m terrible at controlling my powers.”
Oliver huffed. “That’s a fact.”
“So, can you help me learn how to control them?”
He grimaced. “I’m a terrible teacher.”
“Do you really think I could get worse?”
“Well, when you put it like that.” He stood, walking toward the tree line a few yards away. “Sure, I’ll help you after I hunt our dinner.”
My brows furrowed. “But it’s getting dark!”
“Exactly, we need a fire and food before the sun sets. Find some small sticks, would you?” he called over his shoulder, fading into the landscape of birch trees.
He was just going to leave me here alone?
I scanned the shadows between the endless white trees. Oliver said he scared off the Powers. They should be gone or, hopefully, dead. He wouldn’t leave me if they were still looking for us. I kepttelling myself that as I picked up kindling, and the itching and stabbing pressure crept along my arms.
They were signs of my power. It was the only explanation. Every time I spiraled into my fear, the stabbing needles tore across my skin, and white flames erupted. As for the ceaseless annoying itch, it only came when I was angry. The purple flames came after, and sometimes music. What they did, besides enraging me to the point of attempted murder, I didn’t know. But I needed to find out, if only to help my mom.
It didn’t take long for me to have a pile of kindling in my arms. I set it near our tent, wondering what to do next. Oliver still wasn’t back. Although, if he was off finding food, it may be a while.
I walked to the edge of the birch trees. Their leaves rustled in a soft breeze, sending out a sharp wintergreen scent. It soothed my lingering itch but did nothing to the hovering pressure.
My toe edged the line between sun and shade, between looking for Oliver or sitting and thinking about who was after me. Neither one brought me comfort. Both choices provoked the pressure beneath my hands. I squeezed them into fists and lengthened them, hoping to relieve the pain. But my power only listened to my emotions.
About to step into the darkening forest, a black shadow flashed in the distance. A black shadow that seemed far too large. Something tickled the back of my mind, almost like the shadow was familiar, but fear pushed the thought away. My punishing power attacked me instead. White flames erupted from my skin, curling around my fingers. I took a step back, holding them away from my clothes. Then I took another until my boots hit our tent.
Where the hell was Oliver?
Chapter
Ten
