Chapter 1
He’s going to kill me.
He’s going to kill me.
He’s going to kill me.
Well, ground me for life. Murder is fortunately quite immoral for Soren. He is not above barring the windows and doors of our cabin however. Unbeknownst to him though, I’ve found wagari flames to be very effective for breaking down enchanted bars. I take a quick glance around me for maybe the fiftieth time but don’t see a single soul. Better hurry up though. My brother has the quietest footsteps ever and a knack for knowing when I’m up to something. I blame Umbren.
I pull a small thin-nosed bottle from my satchel carefully and uncap it. Silvery blue flames flare up, eager for food. Wigari hawks, blue devils of the sky, produce these flames that literally suck magic into non-existence. Apparently rare to see anywhere else but on this flame-forsaken island.
Flames, I hate it here.
I look around one last time (all clear) and then throw the bottle hard at the metal bars. As soon as it shatters, the flames dance across my cage, the enchantment on it fizzling out until it creates a hole a few inches taller and wider than myself. Sev did good work on the barrier but it’s nothing on the magic-eating fire. I made sure to grab only a small amount of it. Not enough to disable the entire thing.
Wouldn’t want someone to get tipped off too quickly.
Now comes the harder part.
I stare down the now magic-free bars as I pull my silver-blond hair into a high ponytail.
Deep breaths. Imagine what you want, then execute it. Severn’s words.
I grip the bars and slow my breathing down. My eyebrows furrow in concentration as frost begins to expand from my palms up the bars, threads of silvery lights slowly twining around my fingers. The frost thickens to ice that spreads across the entire hole and I imagine it getting colder and colder. Once I’m satisfied, I drop my hands to my sides, breathing heavily. Sweat collects on the nape of my neck. My control over the threadlights is still difficult for me.
I flex my hands a couple times, look around, then raise my right hand into a loose fist.
Breathe and concentrate, Evie.
Slowly, a large ice hammer begins to form, my fist wrapped around the, I imagine to be, very cold handle. Pressure builds in my chest but I ignore it, forcing the threadlights to obey.
My back is damp by the time I’m done but I’m rewarded with a very thick and heavy weapon. One swing and my frost-bitten bars shatter. I blow out a heavy breath at the sigh of my little hole of freedom and let the hammer melt in my hand.
One more look (yes I know I’m paranoid) and then I run.
From our little cabin to the forest that hides the ocean that separates me from the rest of civilization is a large field. I’m talking bigger than one thinking of large would imagine. Just massive.
It comes with having basically this entire island to ourselves.
I fly across the field-or as close to flying as my legs can manage- my feet pounding faster and faster against the earth. I send pleas to every luck-giving creatures I can think of that Soren doesn’t spot me. I have no idea where my brother is. Only that he had to “go out and take care of something.” Hopefully that “something” is on the other side of the island.
And also doesn’t include my secret helper.
The trees start to get closer and closer as I run. My thighs and lungs are killing me. I’ve never been more grateful for Severn’s insane obsession of making me run marathons my entire life. Without them I’d probably be actually dead.
Through the sweat in my eyes-flames it is hot today-I spot a little speck of a figure, and as the trees get closer and clearer, so too does the speck.
Well. The human speck.
Severn, my ability trainer and co-conspirator, stands tall and proud beneath the thick red-leaved trees, his ginger hair and beard shining like fire in the sunlight. He raises a leather-gloved hand in greeting as I approach him. He’s wearing his usual attire, white tunic bound tight by a wide leather belt, dark trousers tucked neatly into black training boots.
“Evangline,” he says warmly when I let myself collapse onto the ground in front of him. The cool grass does wonders for my heated body.
“Sev,” I manage to wheeze out.
“I take it you need a minute?”
“Or two,” I gasp, clutching my sides. Flames, everything burns.
Make no mistake, this is not the first time I’ve attempted this feat, hence my barred house. However, running 10 miles at full speed does not suddenly become easy the fifth time you try it.
Especially not with my belt satchels full of knickknacks and coin bouncing on my waist.
“Up, Evangeline,” Severn says, turning away. “You know as well as I that we haven’t much time.”
I heave myself up, grateful my legs aren’t nearly as wobbly as I thought they’d be. “Right, sure, no biggie.” I follow him quickly as he starts to weave through the trees. He may have some of the brightest hair I’ve ever seen (which doesn’t mean much since I’ve only seen a handful of people) but flames, can he disappear quickly. A ginger shadow if there ever was such a thing.
Kind of like dragons and the stories of how they could hide in plain sight despite being the size of a small mountain.
As we walk, I undo my ponytail and begin to weave it into my trademark thick braid. Then I wipe the sweat off my face and neck with the cloth Severn casually hands me. No sense in being ugly on my first big adventure.
Apparently, my mentor agrees.
Wait.
Should I be offended?
While I’m mulling over my revelation, Sev begins to talk.
“You know what will happen if you’re caught,” he says. Not a question exactly but I answer anyway.
“You mean if we’re caught, and I imagine it’s something along the lines of being grounded for eternity.” I reply, plucking leaves from the shrubs we pass. “I also imagine he’ll be angry with you.”
I don’t know why my mentor offered to help. Maybe he could see how frustrated I was getting after every failed attempt of escaping. Maybe he thinks I need more worldly experience. Whatever the reason, I’m glad he’s on my side.
He grimaces. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” I scoff. Then freeze as another thought crosses my mind. “Oh flames.”
“Language, Evangeline.”
I jog after him (he really does move so fast), “Sorry, it’s just,” I giggle, “You didn’t tell Lyra, did you? Flames, she’s going to be mad! I mean,” I add quickly as he turns to raise an eyebrow at me. “She’s going to be really mad.”
Lyra, his daughter, is the sweetest, calmest person you’d ever meet…except when it comes to her dad. She chastises him more than a mother does her child.
At that, Sev smiles fondly. “Yes, I imagine there will be some scolding in the near future.”
I laugh outright and dance my way in front of him, letting my collection of leaves fall to the ground. “You’re delusional if you think it’ll stop at scolding, dear mentor. I’m imagining silent treatments, begging on your part, and-”
Sev’s face suddenly hardens and he yanks me towards him right as something large and very angry lands behind me.
The ground shakes as the creature lets out an earshattering screech - a high, metallic noise.
Ears ringing, I turn to look at what’s stopped us.
“Oh flames…” I mutter, eyes widening. Sev, to his credit, doesn’t admonish me this time.
Probably because of the big angry wagari.
The large black hawk raises all four of its wings in challenge, its hooked beak opening to let out another furious screech. Blue waves of magic roll off it, crackling blue flames pour from its mouth and eyes, the ruin symbols on its tail feathers glowing as it collects the threadlight currents in the air. It’s preparing for an attack.
Wait, the ruins are cracked. Which means…someone collected its flames.
Sev pushes me behind him but the wagari’s cold blue eyes lock onto me as it crouches slightly.
Flames. I know why it’s here.
The beast is here and wanting to kill me because I stole the fire that cracked the ruins on its tail weeks ago. It must’ve felt me use its fire and tracked me here.
Frantically, I pull at the threads in the air, my body tensing as it goes into defensive mode. Glowing silver ribbons of light begin weaving in the air and collecting in my open hands. My arms strain with the effort of trying to control them but I push harder.
Severn glances at me warningly, probably sensing my growing fatigue but I can’t stop. It’s my fault the stupid creature is here.
Clenching my jaw tight, I imagine a sword shaping in my palms, and for a second, one begins to form.
But the wagari is smart. And fast.
In my daily lessons I’ve learned that people with abilities fear wagari for one reason.
They can take our magic.
The threadlight we collect from the air, the foundation of our magic, these birds can consume until we are completely dried out.
The wagari, seeing my pull on the threads, screeches and launches towards me, jagged beak open wide to devour my slow-forming defense.
I try to form the sword faster, feeling myself start to panic. My arms are burning, my lungs constricting like I can’t get enough air into them, my head screaming at me to do something.
Anything, Evie!
And just like that, my body takes over.
I feel something inside snap almost and my heart starts beating so loud I can hear it. I feel weightless and free and…and…
I can’t even describe it.
My fingers curl and the threads that had been gathering start to unwind, spinning this way and that around me, circling me, defending me, and I feel almost happy.
The wagari starts pulling at my magic though, the beautiful lines of light starting to sweep towards the angry creature.
And the threads stop listening to me.
I feel pressure in my bones, like gravity is pushing down on me. My ears pop and the threads that had once been mine seem to pull at my body - like they want me to do something.
However, the fear of the wagari is too much. And I’m so ashamed of being so weak.
It’s like my threads can feel it. And they attack the wagari in my defense without any input from me.
The threads gather like starving things around the wagari and myself. I clench my fists hard enough to hurt, trying to force them back.
It’s too late.
Suddenly, the threadlights are everywhere. Frost creeps from my feet, climbing up the tree trunks and making its way to the now uneasy wagari. The air starts to feel colder and more…wrong.
This is all wrong.
I see Severn nearby, eyes squeezed tight in pain, holding his head, mouth moving as he screams or shouts at me.
The world goes muffled. Distant.
And suddenly, I feel nothing at all.
The wagari decides it’s had enough and instead of trying to eat my magic it leaps at me, wings outstretched and talons reaching for flesh.
I throw up an arm instinctively to shield myself.
The threads move before I do.
Silver light lashes through the air and slams into the wagari midflight with terrifying force. It lets out a warped screech as the threads wrap around both wings and pull, twisting it violently-
-and the wings snap.
The pain in the creature’s cry is unbearable.
But I’m not in control.
My threads swirl around my feet, bright enough to stain the ground. Leaves lift from the floor as the forest trembles, icy cold dragging through the air.
My breathing becomes ragged. Pained.
This wagari is not the most dangerous thing on the island.
I am.
My threads weave their way towards the wagari, hungry for vengeance, even though the poor, pathetic creature is crumpled on the ground, a heap of black and blue.
Severn moves faster.
He runs to me and the threads immediately sense it.
They violently whip at him but he ducks right before they make contact. Instead, it hits a tree, cutting it clean in half. It instantly freezes solid as he stops right in front of me.
“Evangeline.”
His voice slices through the chaos I created like a blade.
Warm, amber light ignites beneath his boots. The forest itself seemed to groan as sharp, geometric lights begin to dart from Severn, his magic searching, hunting for something.
The air tightens and I feel like I imagine prey does when a trap is tight at their throat.
Threadbinding.
He is threadbinding.
He raises one hand towards me-
-and deep red threads, thick and binding, slam into my own, wrapping around them tightly.
I cry out in pain as my threads begin to thrash against their chains like wild animals. I drop to the floor as pressure in my chest starts to intensify, like my magic trying to drag itself out of my very bones.
Vaguely, I see Sev slam his palm downward. Glowing ember patterns begins circling me, weaving rapidly across my body in tightening layers. Around my wrists. Shoulders. Chest. Not touching my skin but still close enough to feel the heat coming from them.
A stark contrast to the ice I can produce.
They hold me together.
And hold the threads back.
“Listen to me, Evangeline,” my mentor says, his voice strained. “Your threadlights listen to emotion - not logic. Panic feeds them. Fear makes them stronger.”
The ground shakes from another pulse of anger - this time from my threads who are still fighting their cuffs.
The bindings shudder and Sev grits his teeth.
“You do not fight them,” he grits out, eyes gleaming the color of his magic.
The ember light burns brighter at his words and the cords thicken, locking into place.
“You lead them.”
With one final violent pulse, the binding magic forces my threads to surrender. Slowly, agonizingly, the silver frenzy surrounding me begins to weaken. They unwind and lower until they’re just faint little wisps around my shoulders.
I collapse as soon as the last light twinkles out of sight, my chest heaving.
Sweat soaks through my tunic and my entire body shakes uncontrollably.
Severn’s own magic loosen and dissolves into the ground peacefully.
A pathetic cry comes from behind him.
From the wagari I tortured.
“Sev,” I sob, reaching for him.
He kneels and wraps his arms around me, letting me cry onto his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“That p-p-poor b-bird,” I cling tighter to him as a fresh wave of tears starts.
I peer over his shoulder and a strangled noise escapes my lips at the sight of the creature.
It’s not crumpled anymore. It’s standing, its wings in all the wrong angles. But that isn’t what caused my confusion.
Gentle, soft golden lines of light circle and weave smoothly around the bird. Large balls of lights settle onto the wings, glowing as bright as the sun. The air itself feels warmer and smells like home and sunshine.
I’d recognize that magic anywhere and the weaver of it steps out of the shadows of the trees only a few moments after my realization, soft gold threads pulsing from her hands, the veins along her arms glowing under her skin.
“You two better have a good explanation for this,” Lyra says, scowling. “Or I’m telling Soren.”
