Page 12 of The Rebel and the Rose
Only that it wantedsomething.
Maker, echoed that ancient voice in her soul.
She wished she could rip it out and strangle it,demandto know what the hell it wanted.
Theo scrubbed a hand across his jaw. ‘You’ll figure it out, Sera. We’ll work on it.’
‘We’vebeenworking on it.’
Sera was tired of failing. Of standing in fields with Theo, trying to make her magic dosomething, only for it to sit like lead in her bones. Tired of sitting in the stillness of the pine forest, forcing her thoughts inwards, searching the maze ofher own mind, only to be met with painful memories and locked doors, dark rooms full of prowling fears. She was tired of watching Theo huff impatiently as he paced back and forth, unable to hide the frustration on his face. They had spent months trying to figure out the power in her veins. And the only conclusion Sera had come to was this: ‘It feels like it’s growing… restless.’
He frowned. ‘You just have to try harder.’
She glared at him.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, thinking better of whatever he was going to say. ‘We’ll talk about it later. Get yourself down to the healer. I’ll go and find some apples and bribe Trapper back into the stables before Paola gets back from the city. I swear she loves that horse more than me.’
‘That’s because Trapper doesn’t complain about her cooking.’
‘That wasonetime,’ he muttered, sauntering off. ‘She knows I hate beets.’
Sera lumbered back up the hill, with her shoulder cradled in a sling. She made for the barn, which, with the permission of Paola Versini and the village elders, they had converted to their headquarters shortly after their arrival at Halbracht. It was a far cry from the grandeur of House Armand, but what the Order of Flames needed most – beyond music rooms and luxurious dining quarters – was a place for huge vats and wooden barrels, crates and workbenches, and… well, covert experimentation.
The barn was perfect.
In the evenings, they ate and slept in Paola’s house, a three-bedroom wooden cabin nestled up the mountain, on an outcropping that overlooked the entire village. Bibi, Val and Seraphine shared the bedroom at the back, while Theo bunked with his younger cousin, Tobias. The house was cosy and warm, and thanks to Paola’s impressive culinary skills, often smelled like stew.
Inside the old red barn, the atmosphere was pleasantly industrious. Othilde was at her workbench, inspecting the boneshade Tobias had harvested earlier that day. The other reformed smugglers were sitting outside on their break, sharing a sandwich.
Sunlight streamed in through the high windows, making the golden blooms of boneshade glimmer. They were already crisping around the edges, ready to be baked and crushed into Lightfire.
‘That better not be your grinding arm,’ said Othilde, giving Sera a quick glance-over. Her knife came down with a satisfyingthwack, perfectly shearing a head of boneshade in two without even looking.
‘Please contain your concern for my health, Othilde,’ said Sera dryly. ‘It should heal up in a couple of days.’
‘I can grind!’ said Tobias, making a point to flex his non-existent biceps. ‘Look at these weapons.’
Othilde prodded one. ‘If by weapon you mean toothpick.’
‘Hey!’
‘Hey, yourself!’ She mussed his hair. ‘You’re thirteen, boy. Don’t be in such a rush to grow up. We already have our hands full with that one.’
She gestured to where Theo was sitting on the edge of the largest vat in the barn. Tobias was like a miniature version of his cousin. They shared the same silver hair and wide turquoise eyes. Versini eyes. Same mischievous spirit too. Mere days after her arrival at Halbracht, Tobias had used his charm to worm his way into Othilde’s affections, appointing himself as her prized apprentice. He had even convinced her to help him make fireworks for the upcoming King’s Day celebrations, despite the elders’ law that expressly forbade them.
‘Frankly, the more of me around here, the better,’ said Theo as he leaned over the pool of Lightfire, using a long stick to pop the bubbles on top. ‘I think we might have put too much gunpowder in this batch.’
‘Careful!’ Sera lunged, grabbing the end of his shirt. ‘The last time you did that, the whole barrel exploded.’
‘Afraid I’ll absorb all this volatile magic?’ he teased. ‘Maybe I’ll give you a run for your money.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Because two walking infernos are better than one.’
‘Danger loves company.’
‘Can I have a go of the big knife?’ asked Tobias.
Othilde snorted. ‘When I am dead and buried under the trees.’
