Spring Rain (The Witchling #4)
Lizzy Ford
Chapter One
Beck Turner, the Master and Protector of Light, lifted his hands from the ground and leaned back. Earth magick flowed through his body, its low hum and grumbling whisper soothing the emotions he thought would never leave him in peace. The early spring day was sunny and warm, around forty degrees, practically a heat wave after the frigid winter. He wore a t-shirt and snow pants to keep his legs warm and dry while kneeling in a thin layer of snow. Tree branches dripped with melting ice to create puddles around him. In the distance, the racing stream near the home in the forest he’d adopted after the events of December sounded close to overflowing.
This is how it’s supposed to be. He breathed in deeply and released the air slowly. He was one with his element, his focus on the real issue of importance in his life: saving the Light. Three solid months of grueling work had seen the source of Light beneath the boarding school in northern Idaho begin to heal itself – and expand. The gains were tentative, about three feet total, and he had no idea if they’d last if a Dark student or worse, his brother, the Master of Dark, set foot on campus.
But for now, the weeks of sleepless nights, days spent recruiting Light students from all over the globe, and his self-imposed exile were working. His sole purpose in life was to save the Light, and he was winning, however brittle his victory might eventually turn out to be.
He remained despite his weariness, not wanting to break the connection with his element. It was so much easier to see beyond himself when he was synced with the earth. None of the crippling emotions that plagued him during the rest of his day and night were present.
His twin’s approach was like a sudden shadow covering the sun. Beck shivered inadvertently as the temperature around him dropped several degrees. He blinked out of his stupor.
“I can wait,” Decker said softly from several feet behind him.
Beck glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to the ground. His hands were imprinted in the snow. He had the urge to replace them in their chilly molds, to disappear once more into the warm magick of the earth.
He was getting stronger. He no longer needed direct contact to see the images sent to him by the earth. The visions used to be fragmented and confusing, but that had changed gradually as he spent more time with the Light and his magick.
With Decker and his chilling Darkness so close, the magick wore off faster, and a familiar ache filled Beck’s chest, along with fatigue and the turmoil of his thoughts.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “I’m done for now.” Pushing himself to his feet, he faced Decker. His lean twin was just over six feet with caramel skin and dark hair. He wore all black, and his Darkness clung to him, a stark contrast against the white snow. Decker stood a foot from the edge of the Light out of respect for his brother’s fledgling domain.
Beck looked away without talking to his twin and started back towards his refuge. While he was the Master of Light and his duty saw him with the Light most days, he chose to sleep away from the source of goodness in the world. He told himself it was because of events like this, when his brother came to find him.
But he knew better. He didn’t feel worthy enough to stay with the Light. Light witchlings embodied goodness and purity. Unlike them, he was … flawed. Tainted by mistakes, loss and the knowledge that no amount of magick in the world could heal the part of him that hurt.
“What’s up?” he asked. The earth cleared a path for them through snow, puddles and trees towards the massive tree trunk he had adopted as his. He ducked inside and glanced around. On one side was a small bed loaded with blankets and on the other side a trunk, cupboard, and stools were squeezed within. Decker had brought him groceries, and a tote sat on a low table along one side.
One of the many homes of Sam, the yeti who lived in this part of the forest, Beck had only brought more blankets and a firmer pillow with him when he moved in, with Sam’s permission. He left the rest of his possessions at his parent’s nearby cabin as part of his punishment for not being the man he thought he should be.
The fire was warm against his cold cheeks, and he sat.
“Brought you snacks,” Decker replied. “Dad said you haven’t answered his texts in a few days.” The Master of Dark’s gaze was concerned.
Beck leaned back against one wall. “I’m fine,” he said, answering the unasked question. “Just … busy.”
“Doing good work.”
He nodded.
Decker’s dark gaze lingered on his features. He sat. “The spring equinox is coming up. There’s talk about this gathering being big. Word has leaked about our issue.” Every three months, their parents hosted fetes or other types of gatherings centered around the dates of solstices and equinoxes, brief periods of power that beckoned to witchlings whose magick was tied to the elements. For the last winter solstice, there had been a charity ball. For the spring equinox, they usually hosted a renewal event of some kind in honor of spring. Beck hadn’t bothered to ask what was happening this year.
“Your issue,” he whispered. No part of him wanted to think about what had happened several months ago. “My only concern is the Light.”
“And your daughter.”
Beck rubbed his face. He was too tired to argue with his brother and instead, dug around for a candy bar in the bag Decker had brought. The earth’s soothing magick was fading. The ache in his chest began to turn into outright pain. Even the earth couldn’t heal this kind of suffering the way it could physical ailments.