Page 111 of Her Dreadful Will
“What do you mean?” She frowned at him. “How could you not know? Every student is tested before joining the Institute.”
“Yes, but how accurate are the results?”
Soleil was about to protest, but then she thought back to her own test. She’d been told not to do any magic for a week beforehand, and then they had directed her to find a safe space, like a field or an abandoned building. During the test, she video-chatted with two of the Institute professors who gave her various tasks to perform on camera in real time. Of course, since her magic directly involved manipulation of the human will, they told her the results of her test would be imprecise. But they took notes anyway, and assigned her a radiance level. At the time she’d accepted the ranking eagerly; but now she wondered how the Highwitches had arrived at that number, without seeing her work her mind-flex magic on a living human subject.
“The best part of those long-distance tests is that they’re so easy to fool,” said Achan. “If I showed them my full power, I’d be fitted with restraints immediately, if I was lucky—or assassinated within days. The night before my test, I drained myself as far as I dared. I went to this old factory and I brought the whole thing down—rotted and rusted it, desiccated it until there was nothing left but dust. I hadn’t even learned how to do moonlight circles yet. And I still had enough radiance left for them to rank me in the top third of the Radiant Scale.”
Soleil remembered having her hand on his throat, feeling the immensity of his power, and she believed him.
“It felt amazing, letting out so much power.” Achan was coming closer again; he didn’t seem to get the message about keeping his distance. “An intense feeling of release. I was jittery and irritable for a few days afterwards, but I restored myself with a good sun-soak and some extra chaos on the side—sucked the rust out of some pipes and the mildew out of a few bathrooms. Siphoned the chaotic macho energy out of roomfuls of frat boys. Good times.”
Soleil hated herself for wanting to laugh. She forced the impulse down. “What’s your point?”
“That was the most power I’ve ever released at once. I’ve never let go completely before, never fully tested the limits of what I can do. But I will, right now, for you. If you want to see it.”
She did. She craved the display with a vehemence that should have shocked her; but she was beginning to know herself better—to expect her own fervent curiosity and ravenous appetite for magical power.
“It’s going to wreck most of the forest, isn’t it?” she said.
“Probably.” He winced. “I can try to fix it after.”
“What about me? Will I be safe?”
“The safest place for you is with me. Right against me, where I can feel you and be sure that I’m not hurting you.”
Soleil quirked an eyebrow. “You want me to snuggle up against you, while naked?”
“You bet your darling little ass I do. But if it makes you feel better—” He curled his fingers, and Soleil’s disintegrated clothes crept around her again—the soft cotton underwear, the jeans, the bra, and the shirt, layering her in protective comfort. Achan’s energy lingered in the material, enticing and familiar.Hewas familiar, not just as the dentist-witch she’d come to know, but as Luci, her first friend through the Institute. Luci, who had defended her in class debates. Who sent her comprehensive notes when she couldn’t make a live class. Who warned her about overuse of her magic. Who teased and encouraged and listened, just listened, so many times.
As her anger eased, Soleil felt an overwhelming desire to pull out her phone and re-read every message Luci had ever sent. Would they seem any less supportive, or funny, or sweet, now that she knew the sender was male?
“I want to see your magic,” she said softly. “But you should be careful. You’ve always warned me about what happens when someone spends too much radiance.”
“I’m less worried about that, and more worried about you trying to break the mandala again.” He smiled, but she saw the echo of pain in his eyes.
She moved forward slowly, and touched his cheek. “I won’t. Do you trust me?”
“Always,” he breathed. “Do you trust me?”
“Everything you did was to help me,” she said. “To show me what the Convocation and the Institute have hidden, and what they’ve done. The night I met your coven, I decided to trust you—and even though it makes no damn sense, I still do.”
“I’m going to let you in, Soleil,” he murmured. “I’ll let you see all of me—nothing held back. But first, I have to send away the insects and animals. Wait a minute.”
He sent out a whisper of chaos, a warning so soft yet so imperative that Soleil nearly turned tail and ran herself. The sleeping forest awoke with a shifting of dead leaves and the patter of a thousand miniscule feet through the darkened undergrowth.
Even after the scurrying and rustling died away, Achan waited several minutes. Soleil began to fidget with her bag, itching to take out her phone.
“I think they’re all clear,” he said. “At least, I hope so. I have no idea how far this will go. Hold on tight to me.”
She fitted her body to his, with her head under his chin and her arms around his waist. In this position, with her heart thumping against his ribs, the faint music of his shielded will was louder. She couldn’t touch it, but she closed her eyes to listen to it.
And then the world exploded.
A sound, like a fierce chord from the black bowels of the earth, vibrated through Soleil, jangling every nerve in her body. A thousand trees screamed in agony, their bones cracking, cores enflamed. Her bog oak ring snapped and flew from her finger, and she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming as the forest spasmed.
Then the cracking and shattering stopped, but the wind rose, a fierce yawning whirl that sucked her clothes against her body. She opened her eyes a crack and saw a hurricane of black leaves and hurled dirt and shredded roots, fragments of rock flying past and bursting apart into dark dust. Achan’s arms stretched wide, his fingers so contorted she thought they must be broken, and the power gushed out of him like a torrential flood, carrying the two of them higher, and higher into the star-flecked sky.
Achan looked down at her, a savage grin licking his features. She wanted him to stop, and she wanted him to keep going, to flood the world with his chaos. There was beauty in the sheer power of destruction—horrifying, entrancing beauty.
