17
“YOU HAVE WHAT?” IRYS ASKED IN OUTRAGE.
I explained to her about my immunity.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Her loud question caused several guests to stop their conversations and glance our way.
“Many reasons. I promise I’ll tell you everything en route to the Citadel,” I said, getting to my feet.
Sensing something was wrong, Kade and Valek joined us.
“Can you be ready to leave in an hour?” Irys asked me.
“Yes.” I kicked off my shoes and grabbed them.
Kade opened his mouth, but I pulled him along with me as I hurried to my room. Changing into travel clothes and packing a few things, I summarized the crisis for Kade. “I know. I’m rushing off again. But how can I not?”
“You can’t.”
“Moonlight’s a Sandseed horse. Come with me?” I asked.
“I won’t be much help. And I’m needed on the coast,” he said.
Although I expected his answer, regret touched me. “I get credit for asking you. Remember that.” I poked him on the shoulder to emphasize my point. He latched onto my wrist and drew me in close.
“And I want a rain check on that dress.” He kissed me with a fierce passion that left me dizzy. He stepped back. “Remember that.”
My lips tingled. “Won’t be a problem.”
When I finished gathering my travel gear, I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. “Please make my apologies to my family. My mother’s going to be livid.”
“I’ll explain it to her,” Kade said.
“I’m glad you understand.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I do. Yet inside—” he pointed to his chest “—I’d rather you were coming with me to the coast.”
We joined Irys, Yelena and Valek by the horses. Both Kiki and Quartz had been saddled and were ready to go.
A slight brush of magic touched me as Yelena communicated with Kiki. When she finished, I asked her what name the horses had given me.
She chewed on her lower lip. “They aren’t very imaginative.”
“Glass Lady?” I guessed.
“No.” Yelena cocked her head, studying me. “I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“You haven’t reclaimed it yet.”
“That doesn’t make sense. How complicated can it be? You just said they’re not imaginative.”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe why they chose that name. When you’re ready, I will tell you.” End of discussion.
Before I could protest, Valek said, “We’ll send word if we find anything.” He was referring to my blood.
“Thanks.” I hopped up on Quartz.
Irys and I said a final round of goodbyes and then turned the horses toward the Avibian Plains. When we reached the tall grasses, Irys spurred Kiki into the gust-of-wind gait and Quartz followed. The plains distorted around us as we sailed over the ground.
For the next two days, Kiki and Quartz set the pace. They stopped when they were tired, and nudged us when they wished to go. Their efforts brought us to the Citadel three days earlier than a normal horse.
We arrived in the early morning, shot through the south entrance gate and turned west. The Citadel’s streets flowed under Quartz’s hooves. Surprised shouts followed as she dodged pedestrians. Amazed at Quartz’s speed and agility after two days of hard riding, I hung on to her mane.
Zigzagging through the intricate maze of the residential quarters, I hoped we would arrive in time to save the boy.
Kiki and Quartz stopped near an entrance to an alley too narrow for them to fit.
Irys jumped to the ground. “Come on. This way.”
I hopped down. Stains and graffiti marred the white marble walls, and weeds grew through the sidewalk’s cracks. Grime coated everything. I hesitated, wondering what to do about the horses. Quartz pushed me forward. They would be fine.
As I followed Irys through the alley, the stench of rot filled my nose. I avoided the puddles of muck and heaps of trash. The passageway ended in a small courtyard. A group of people huddled on the far side.
I recognized Fisk, Master Bain Bloodgood and a few magicians from the Keep. They turned to us. Fisk transformed from worried to confused, but Bain scowled at me in displeasure. I wondered if Irys had communicated with him regarding my immunity. During the trip to the Citadel, I had explained my reasons for keeping it a secret to Irys.
“Why is Opal here?” Fisk asked. His voice had deepened since I last talked with him. He had cut his light brown hair short, and was now as tall as my brother.
The Master Magicians ignored his question.
“Status?” Irys asked Bain.
“The boy inside this dwelling is on the verge of flaming out,” Bain said. “He has pulled a huge amount of power to him, blocking anyone, including me, from getting close.”
“Doesn’t that mean he has control of his power?” I asked.
“No. The barrier he made is out of fear and it is about to rip apart.”
A disaster for magicians. Their magic came from the blanket of power that surrounded the world. If one of them yanked too hard, it will bunch and warp, creating havoc for the magicians, and killing the person responsible.
“How can I help?” I asked.
“You need to go in there and talk to him. Teach him to slowly release the magic back into the source,” Irys said.
Apprehension crawled like little spider legs over skin. “Teach him how? I don’t have any magic.”
Fisk said, “She can’t get in there. Let me try to talk to him again.”
“He’s losing it.” Irys’s face paled. “Think of the magic as a balloon filled with air. Get rid of the air without popping the balloon. Go now!”
In a panic, I ran to the doorway and bounced off a curtain of magic. After a second to recover my senses, I found the magical barrier. Pushing my hands and arms into the power, I leaned my weight forward and shoved my way into the building. I felt as if I swam in invisible mud. Every step was an effort. I fought to draw a breath. Could I drown in magic?
Struggling against the thickness, I searched the house. Damaged tables, chairs without legs and soiled bedding littered the floor. Cobwebs hung, dust motes floated and broken glass crunched under my boots. Not a home, but a shelter for those without homes. It explained Fisk’s presence.
My muscles protested the abuse. My lungs seemed to fill with magic, expanding in my chest and wheezing through my throat. I kept checking rooms until I found the boy huddled in a corner. Although I wouldn’t use the word boy to describe the wild creature who gawked at me with an exhausted terror.
His tangled, greasy hair reached the floor. Bony knees poked through tattered pants. The rest of his ragged clothes were inadequate for the cold weather. I guessed his age to be around thirteen.
He trembled and sweat dripped from his jaw. I held my hands wide, showing him I was unarmed before I crouched to his level.
“I’m here to help.” I kept my voice even, suppressing the desire to pant.
A wary, doubtful look replaced his fear. His lips whitened as he pressed them together, matching his sickly pallor. He clutched what appeared to be an apron and a teapot to his upper body.
“You’re not in trouble. You have grabbed a huge amount of magic. Can you feel it?”
He nodded.
The panic in my heart eased a bit. “Don’t let go. You need to hold on to it a little longer. Can you do that?”
This time he hesitated.
“It’s important.”
His gaze slid to a battered sleeping mat next to him. A bedraggled stuffed dog with a stained pink bow around its neck lay on a dirty pillow.
I played a hunch. “If you let go, who will take care of her?”
Alarm flashed on his face.
“Hold on for her, okay?”
This time he responded with a determined nod, tightening his grip on the items in his arms. The gesture gave me an idea.
“Imagine that the magic around us is tea, and it has filled your teapot. If you don’t pour the tea out, it will break the pot.”
“Too much tea,” he agreed with a strained high-pitched voice.