Alora stared at the glaive, a dark current humming through the shaft. Warm andalive.
“Theia, wait!” Zuma’s voice rang out?—
Something grabbed her arm.
Alora spun too fast and the weapon responded. Shadows slashed outward in a reflexive arc.
Theia screamed and the sound made Alora’s heart stop.
Her friend collapsed in the grass, clutching her shoulder. Blood gushed from beneath her fingers and she swayed, eyes rolling. Her body convulsed with residual magic. Her skin shimmered faintly with red light
“No—no, no, no—” Alora shook, her magic fading away. “I didn’t mean—Theia?—”
Lord Zuma caught her as she fell back. “She is losing too much blood!”
“Inside,” Calla ordered. “Now.”
He lifted her in his arms and quickly carried her back to the cottage. Zuma lay her on the couch while Calla shoved furniture aside to clear space.
“Can you heal her?” Alora asked, trembling.
Calla turned, eyes hard. “You can.”
“I don’t know how!”
“Youcan,” she said more softly, stepping aside. “You must take hold of your power one way or another, Alora. Find the means or she will die.”
Then Calla stepped back outside. Leaving her to fail or to learn.
Alora knelt beside Theia, her hands shaking. The power inside her was unruly and untrained—but she reached for it anyway because she couldn’t allow it to only serve violence. Fear pitched in her chest, warning she might make it.
But when she had been on the brink of death, Rune healed her with his power, and it had been gentle. You don’t have to be made of light all the time, Alora. You can rest in the dark, too.
Closing her eyes, Alora took a breath and placed her hands on Theia’s shoulder. A warm current bloomed from her palms. Not the harsh, red-gold light of her fury, but something else. Calmer. Softer. Like the embers of a fire that chose not to consume.
The bleeding slowly stopped and Theia’s breathing steadied as the wound stitched back together.
Zuma exhaled a curse and turned away, shoulders heaving. “I’ll make a tonic for the pain.” He strode into the kitchen, giving them space.
Alora remained kneeling beside her friend until Theia blinked open her eyes with a faint moan.
“I am so sorry I hurt you.” Her voice broke
Theia shook her head and patted her hand gently. “I’m all right, Alora. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. When I saw Calla aim her weapon at you, I didn’t think…”
Alora hugged her. Theia had put herself in danger without a thought of her own life. “I could have killed you,” she whispered.
“Yousavedme.”
But it could have ended badly, too.
Sighing heavily, Alora sat back and looked down at her fingers, still faintly aglow. “Maybe Delphi was right. Maybe I am cursed. This power… it doesn’t feel like mine. It feels like something waiting to overcome me.”
“No.” Theia’s voice was firm. “You were distracted. I saw it while you trained. Your body was in the clearing, but your mind was miles away.”
Alora flushed, cheeks warming. “That obvious?”
Theia tilted her head, playful. “Your mind is on him, isn’t it?”
