Crystal Storm
Page 38
The thought was so ludicrous that he wanted to retrieve his words after he’d spoken them. But what else was he supposed to think?
Olivia twisted her hands, and for a moment, he thought she might try to escape, to turn into her hawk form and fly away to avoid his questions. Instead, she sighed and came to sit on the edge of his cot while he stood tensely by the porthole.
“Not exactly,” she said. “But you are a rare mortal indeed, Jonas Agallon. One touched by our magic at two very vulnerable times in your life—both when you were moments from death. With me, when I healed your shoulder, and with Phaedra, after you’d been stabbed by the Limerian soldier. You don’t know how rare that is.”
Those were two moments in his life he’d prefer to forget. “Perhaps not. So tell me.”
“I was there when Phaedra gave her life for yours—as a hawk, I watched from the top of another tent.”
His took a sharp breath in. “You did?”
She nodded grimly. “I watched with horror as Xanthus ended her life, watched her turn back to the magic we’re all created from. And I watched as some of that magic entered you, only moments past the point when you would have died without her intervention.”
“I . . . I didn’t feel anything.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have. And it wouldn’t have made any difference at all if not for the fire Kindred’s own magic rising up nearby. It worked to strengthen Phaedra’s magic within you. But that wouldn’t have been enough for this to happen.” Olivia nodded at his mark, which he now scratched absently. “I used earth magic to heal your shoulder when you were, again, on the brink of death, and I watched as you absorbed it like a sponge absorbing water. That magic has remained within you, joining with Phaedra’s, just as Timotheus foresaw.”
Jonas tried to understand, tried to deny this, tried to stop his heart from beating like the wings of a trapped bird within his chest. But then it suddenly occurred to him that he shouldn’t want to deny such incredible news.
“I have elementia within me,” he said, his voice raspy. “That means I can use it to fight Kyan and to cast Amara away from the shores of Mytica.” The more he considered this possibility, the more excited he became. “I need to go above and tell the others. They must be so confused about what happened—what I did to Felix. But this is amazing, Olivia. This will make all the difference in the world.”
He was a witch! A male witch! He had denied the existence of elementia and those who wielded it all his life, yet now he had this very magic at his fingertips.
Olivia caught his arm as he made for the door. “It’s not that easy, Jonas. Timotheus didn’t foresee you as a practitioner of magic, only as a vessel for it.”
“A vessel? Impossible. You witnessed what I did. I threw Felix across the deck with . . . air magic, yes?”
“That’s true. But that was an anomaly. It was merely a sign that this magic within you has matured, and that expenditure of energy alone rendered you unconscious for four days.”
He shook his head. Frustration stirred within him, eating away at his excitement. “I don’t understand.”
Olivia loosened her grip on his arm. “I know, and I apologize for your confusion. Timotheus keeps his knowledge very close, since he doesn’t trust many immortals, not even me. He hasn’t even shared the extent of your prophecy with me for fear that I’d tell you and you’d try to avoid it.” Her jaw clenched. “I’ve already said too much.”
He groaned. “You say just enough to drive me mad with curiosity and dread.”
“You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Can’t I?” He pointed at the door. “Everyone on deck saw me do that. What am I supposed to do? Deny it?”
“Yes, actually.” She raised her chin. “I have explained to them that it was my doing. That I saw Felix from above hit you, and the reason I am here is to protect you. Of course they believed me.”
He stared at her. “They believe that you intervened with your own magic.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m not to say anything about this.”
“No. Not a word.” Her expression turned earnest. “It’s too dangerous. There are those who would target you, knowing that you’re a mortal filled with immortal magic.”
“Immortal magic that I can’t access.” He stared down at his fist, remembering how it had glowed above deck.
“You don’t believe me, so you must see for yourself.” She gestured to the door. “Go ahead and try to break open this door with the air magic you so easily channeled the other day with Felix.”
It sounded like a challenge. Jonas looked past Olivia and furrowed his brow with concentration as he raised his hand toward the door. He focused on the attempt to summon this magic within him so hard that his hand began to tremble, his arm began to shake . . . but nothing happened.
“It means nothing,” he grunted. “I simply need to practice.”
“Perhaps,” Olivia allowed gently. “I only know what little I’ve been told.”
Disappointed, Jonas let his arm to drop to his side. “Of course, we wouldn’t want anything to be too easy for me. Being a witch, harnessing elementia at will . . . wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“Actually, it would have been incredibly useful to you.”
He glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
Olivia twisted her hands, and for a moment, he thought she might try to escape, to turn into her hawk form and fly away to avoid his questions. Instead, she sighed and came to sit on the edge of his cot while he stood tensely by the porthole.
“Not exactly,” she said. “But you are a rare mortal indeed, Jonas Agallon. One touched by our magic at two very vulnerable times in your life—both when you were moments from death. With me, when I healed your shoulder, and with Phaedra, after you’d been stabbed by the Limerian soldier. You don’t know how rare that is.”
Those were two moments in his life he’d prefer to forget. “Perhaps not. So tell me.”
“I was there when Phaedra gave her life for yours—as a hawk, I watched from the top of another tent.”
His took a sharp breath in. “You did?”
She nodded grimly. “I watched with horror as Xanthus ended her life, watched her turn back to the magic we’re all created from. And I watched as some of that magic entered you, only moments past the point when you would have died without her intervention.”
“I . . . I didn’t feel anything.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have. And it wouldn’t have made any difference at all if not for the fire Kindred’s own magic rising up nearby. It worked to strengthen Phaedra’s magic within you. But that wouldn’t have been enough for this to happen.” Olivia nodded at his mark, which he now scratched absently. “I used earth magic to heal your shoulder when you were, again, on the brink of death, and I watched as you absorbed it like a sponge absorbing water. That magic has remained within you, joining with Phaedra’s, just as Timotheus foresaw.”
Jonas tried to understand, tried to deny this, tried to stop his heart from beating like the wings of a trapped bird within his chest. But then it suddenly occurred to him that he shouldn’t want to deny such incredible news.
“I have elementia within me,” he said, his voice raspy. “That means I can use it to fight Kyan and to cast Amara away from the shores of Mytica.” The more he considered this possibility, the more excited he became. “I need to go above and tell the others. They must be so confused about what happened—what I did to Felix. But this is amazing, Olivia. This will make all the difference in the world.”
He was a witch! A male witch! He had denied the existence of elementia and those who wielded it all his life, yet now he had this very magic at his fingertips.
Olivia caught his arm as he made for the door. “It’s not that easy, Jonas. Timotheus didn’t foresee you as a practitioner of magic, only as a vessel for it.”
“A vessel? Impossible. You witnessed what I did. I threw Felix across the deck with . . . air magic, yes?”
“That’s true. But that was an anomaly. It was merely a sign that this magic within you has matured, and that expenditure of energy alone rendered you unconscious for four days.”
He shook his head. Frustration stirred within him, eating away at his excitement. “I don’t understand.”
Olivia loosened her grip on his arm. “I know, and I apologize for your confusion. Timotheus keeps his knowledge very close, since he doesn’t trust many immortals, not even me. He hasn’t even shared the extent of your prophecy with me for fear that I’d tell you and you’d try to avoid it.” Her jaw clenched. “I’ve already said too much.”
He groaned. “You say just enough to drive me mad with curiosity and dread.”
“You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Can’t I?” He pointed at the door. “Everyone on deck saw me do that. What am I supposed to do? Deny it?”
“Yes, actually.” She raised her chin. “I have explained to them that it was my doing. That I saw Felix from above hit you, and the reason I am here is to protect you. Of course they believed me.”
He stared at her. “They believe that you intervened with your own magic.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m not to say anything about this.”
“No. Not a word.” Her expression turned earnest. “It’s too dangerous. There are those who would target you, knowing that you’re a mortal filled with immortal magic.”
“Immortal magic that I can’t access.” He stared down at his fist, remembering how it had glowed above deck.
“You don’t believe me, so you must see for yourself.” She gestured to the door. “Go ahead and try to break open this door with the air magic you so easily channeled the other day with Felix.”
It sounded like a challenge. Jonas looked past Olivia and furrowed his brow with concentration as he raised his hand toward the door. He focused on the attempt to summon this magic within him so hard that his hand began to tremble, his arm began to shake . . . but nothing happened.
“It means nothing,” he grunted. “I simply need to practice.”
“Perhaps,” Olivia allowed gently. “I only know what little I’ve been told.”
Disappointed, Jonas let his arm to drop to his side. “Of course, we wouldn’t want anything to be too easy for me. Being a witch, harnessing elementia at will . . . wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“Actually, it would have been incredibly useful to you.”
He glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
