The class in forensics she’d taken reminded her that bones weren’t that easy to burn. A pre-existing fire, a super-hot fire, would be needed to even get them to ignite. “While I’m touched by your offer,” she gently said, “I’m not so sure it would work.”
“Ye might at least try,” soft voice said.
It appeared that Legion had assigned two particular voices to communicate with her. The councilors must’ve sensed her difficulty with the concept of speaking to an endless number of random advisors that operated under the Legion umbrella, so to speak. It also appeared that the councilors weren’t about to take no for an answer when it came to building a fire.
“Let me sit here a minute and get a handle on this pain.” She pulled in a deep breath through her nose and blew it out her mouth. “If I move right now, I’m either going to pass out or throw up.”
“We have already gathered the bones for ye, mistress,” deep voice said. “Open yer eyes.”
Clenching her teeth to keep from cursing, she opened her eyes. A pyre of unlit bones waited for her magical touch, the touch she didn’t have a clue how to switch on or off.
“Reach out and see them burn,” soft voice said, “then utter incaendo. Ye must believe for it to be so.”
It couldn’t possibly be that easy. Still on her knees, leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes again, finding herself stricken with an ever-increasing drowsiness that she knew was hypothermia setting in. She needed to take Legion’s advice and at least try to light the fire.
She forced her eyes open, extended a hand toward the bones, and imagined them burning in a crackling campfire. After watching the flames for a long moment, she whispered, “Incaendo.” Nothing happened. With a disappointed sigh, she sagged back against the wall. “I can’t do this.”
“Ye must believe and do this, mistress,” deep voice said. “Else ye will die, and the witch wins.”
“Think of how happy it will make her to see ye dead,” soft voice said. “Think how she will crow about it to Mathison.”
“Bullshit.” Calia drew herself up and aimed both hands at the pile of bones, curling her fingers as if about to pull them from a fiery pit in hell. “Burn, dammit!”
The pile of bones exploded, scattering flaming bits all over the floor of the abyss.
“I did it.” She stared at the flames in disbelief. “I actually did it.”
Then the burning bones scooted back into a neat pile in front of her as if ordered to fall in place.
“We knew ye could do it,” deep voice said.
“Aye,” soft voice agreed. “We knew it.”
“More bones will be gathered to increase the fire and keep it burning,” said the raspy voice that hadn’t spoken in a while. “Rest, mistress. Heal yerself. The battle has just begun.”
As she reached for the heat radiating toward her, unchecked tears raced down her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. So much had happened. She was both grateful to Legion and terrified about what was to come, and, holy crap, she ached and throbbed as if she’d been through a meat grinder. And heaven help her, she needed Mathison to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right.
“Mathison,” she whispered, her tears falling faster, “please hurry. I need you.”
Mathison froze and lifted his head, listening harder, straining to hear Calia’s sweet voice again.
It echoed once more, fainter this time. He felt every word sink into his soul.
“Mathison, please hurry. I need you.” Pain stained the message. Blood. Fire. Ice.
“What is it?” Mairwen paused in her sorting through the wall of parchment scrolls lining the cave’s shelves.
“She is wounded. Badly.” His voice cracked. The ache and frustration of getting to her threatened to shove him past the brink into madness. “My Calia is suffering.”
“But ye heard her.” Mairwen moved toward him, two sets of scrolls clutched to her chest. “That means she lives.”
“Aye.” The agony of hearing her but still being so far away made him sway forward and catch himself on the edge of the heavy worktable in the center of Grandsire’s hidden lair. If not for the massive piece of furniture, he would have gone to his knees. “She needs me. Needs my strength. Now.”
Within him, Dubh gnashed his teeth and growled, battling to be given control and allowed to dash off across the Highlands to their mates’ rescue. “Why can I not hear Litress? If the witch failed to bind Calia’s powers, Litress’s should be unbound as well.”
“Not necessarily,” Mairwen said, once more trespassing across the boundaries of their thoughts. “If Carman knew of Litress’s existence, which she no doubt did, she could have bound the pale alpha’s powers without bothering to bind Calia’s. Perhaps she thought the subordinate witch Bansys could handle Calia, since she has yet to learn how to shift, and therefore, would not know how to use her magic either.”
“Then why can Calia not hear me?” Mathison pushed away from the table. “Why could I not sense her before now?”
