The pain was almost sweet. The dull ache, though incredibly uncomfortable, especially when she moved, was tempered by the surges of magic that rushed through her—filling her to the brim. It made her strong enough to walk back to Lavette’s home. It also made her powers more volatile than they had been in years. Water dripped from her fingertips without warning. Her footsteps left frost behind. She was left to shake snow from her hair as they ascended the stairs.
Olivin asked her twice how she was. The second time, Eira emphasized that she’d never been better, despite what her erratic displays of magic might suggest. She felt like she could make the world hers. Any drains on her magic were little more than murmurs in the back of her mind.
She felt confident enough that upon arriving she summoned everyone to the common room. Despite it being the middle of the night, they all obliged, albeit somewhat confused.
“Ducot, may I see Noelle’s ring again?” It was going to work this time; she was certain of it.
He didn’t hesitate before sliding it off his pinky finger and handing it to her. His willingness to indulge her didn’t stop him from quipping, “Does the frost polish it?”
“Something like that…” Eira balled it in her fist once more, allowing her magic to swell around it.
But, this time, she didn’t merely apply a brute force of power. Adela had been training her to focus on the currents of power. The way they ebbed and flowed.There is a way in which you sense these echoes, she had said.You pick up on the innate magic that has been imprinted on the unintentional vessel. Find it. Use it.
Eira did just that. She allowed her magic to swirl around the ring and pick up on the power within it. Power that now rode the waves of her own. A haze of frost began to cloud the air around her fist.
The echo reverberated in her ears. But none of her friends reacted.Not quite right, Eira chided herself and adjusted. The power needed to be shared with them. She had to use the tide of her magic to guide the echo to them.
A chill swept through the room, dragging shivers up the spines of her friends. The moment it reached them, Eira could sense their raw essence. For a frozen second, they were adrift in the same ocean she perpetually existed within.
Eira brought the echo to the fore once more.
Yes, almost ready. Too much with the necklace? Maybe? No. Ugh, I hate these ribbons. There. Better. All right, I’m ready!
The power vanished with the last of Noelle’s words, taking the chill with it. Eira met the wide, shocked stares of her friends. The parted lips and soft gasps. But none were louder in their silence than Ducot. Tears shone where they collected in the corners of his eyes.
“That…that was her,” he whispered.
Eira returned the ring to his palm, curling his fingers around it. “It was.”
“You— How?”
“It’s something Adela and I have been working on.” She smiled. Exhaustion was hitting her all at once. Perhaps she hadn’t been feeling as good as she’d thought and had merely been running on enthusiasm. Or the effort had taken more from her than she’d realized. Either way, Eira felt about ready to keel over. Not that she wanted to show it, though. The last thing she’d display would be some kind of weakness that would give her friends a reason to worry. “I thought I could share the little bit of her that we still had with you all.”
Ducot clutched her hands tightly and whispered, “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure.” Eira eased away. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, the day has been long.” She didn’t miss their murmurs as realization settled in of what she’d just done. An echo had never been played aloud before and Eira wanted to lie down before they could trap her with questions.
Eira shut the door to her room and heaved a sigh, nearly collapsing. She barely had the strength to stagger over to her makeshift bed before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The next morning was a complete about-face from the evening prior. One good night’s rest and her strength was back and better than ever. As Eira dressed for the day, her clothes were suddenly soaking wet, then frozen, then completely dry as a mist filled the room, water releasing with a particularly aggressive shake.
Eira stopped to take a breath when she’d finished stuffing her pack. Her exhale was part snow. The room whispered to her withlittle more than an errant thought. The oscillation of power was something she’d need to temper. But time and practice would sort that. A bit of additional focus on her control was nothing compared to all the benefits the rune had offered her.
Ulvarth wouldn’t recognize her when she stepped foot on Meru again. He didn’t have any idea what was coming for him.
Massaging the center of her chest one last time, Eira slung her pack over her shoulder and strode from the study that had been her bedroom while in Qwint. But her reflection in the polished silver of a decorative crest on the wall gave her pause. Eira leaned in and plucked a strand of hair that curved around the side of her face.
It was stark white.
Not platinum blonde. White. Eira turned her head, trying to get a better look, but her eyes didn’t lie.
Odd.
Eira tucked the strand behind her ear, trying to pull the rest over it. She didn’t want to answer questions. Or give Olivin more fodder to worry for her. There was no space for her to project anything but strength.
With nothing but confidence in her mind, Eira entered the main room.
“Are you all ready?” she asked, seeing her friends loading up their own shoulders in the main room.
