Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(13)

She smiled at the curious sight and entered the forest. The path wound through trees, shallow pits and small hills before it finally just stopped. Morgan shivered in the cold forest air. She cupped her hands and drew a fire. The flames burned purple today, and the warmth crept from her palms into her arms and spread throughout her body.

You use your magick well.

Morgan’s eyes flew up. Had someone spoken to her? Or did she imagine it?

Fire is a powerful element. Intense. Primal. Compassionate.

She turned and gave a startled cry at the huge creature that stood before her. It was ugly and furry, covered with hair the same hue as hers.

“If you get too close, I’ll set you on fire!” she warned.

The creature made a strange sound. A laugh? It sat down on a log and held up its hands, as if to say it meant no harm. Seated, it wasn’t nearly as huge or threatening. Morgan waited for it to say something else, not fully convinced it really was speaking to her. Something Beck said clicked.

“Are you Beck’s bigfoot?” she asked finally.

Beck’s bigfoot? I suppose so.

“He lets you wander around the forest scaring girls?”

The creature laughed, a cross between a guffaw and a chortle.

“In New York, all pets have to wear collars.”

Pets! The bigfoot was laughing so hard, there were tears in its eyes.

“I guess, if you escaped or something, I can take you back,” she offered, unsure what was going on that Beck’s bigfoot just happened across her.

I am not lost, child, he said, when he regained his composure. The forest brought you to me, and I’m not a pet!

“Oh.”

I live in the forest. I am a balancer, a creature charged with trying to help maintain the balance between Light and Dark. I communicate between the elements and humans at times, too.

“I don’t remember you being mentioned in class,” she said and then sighed. “Not that I pay attention anyway. They probably did bring you up.”

I doubt it. The instructors and Masters know me; normal students have no need to.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

Because you’re special. He laughed.

“That’s not necessarily a good thing,” she responded glumly.

What brings you to my forest?

“Just needed some air.” She shrugged.

Fire magick hates to be confined. Does it give you grief?

“I don’t think so.”

You learned to use it young.

“My mother taught me. She’s fire, too.”

Both your parents are Dark?

“Yes,” she said, regarding him curiously. “How did you know?”

The children of Dark parents are stuck between Light and Dark. There are very few instances where two Dark parents come together. It’s rare for Dark to seek a Dark mate, for most witchlings value the Light. You are stuck, too, aren’t you?

“Yes.” She withdrew the clear amulet from around her neck. Unlike the amulets of other students, hers hadn’t turned colors when she touched it. As if it were dead. “You’re saying it’s not my fault that I’m stuck?”

Of course not. You cannot help who your parents were.

Morgan frowned. “Father said it’s because I was a fire witchling like my mom, which means I’m bad.”

You cannot be born Dark. You are either born Light or caught between.

“I didn’t know that.” His reassurance left her feeling somewhat relieved. But doubtful still. There was more than her being stuck between Light and Dark; there was the incident, too, another reason her father said she was bad. “How do I get unstuck?”

Have they covered the trial you must take in your classes?

“Probably,” she replied vaguely.

You must go through a trial and choose Light or Dark. It will be hard.

“Figures. So that’s why you’re talking to me, because I’m stuck?”

Not exactly.

She waited.

I think you are meant to help a friend of mine.

“Another fuzzy monster like you?”

He smiled. No. A hairless human like you. Beck.

“Beck?” she repeated, thinking. “Oh, from that crazy blonde chic?”

Possibly. The elements are not always clear in what they show me. But they say he is in danger of some sort, from more than one direction. There is no one else who can help him.

“Why not?”

The traits of fire complement those of earth.

“We’re not really getting along right now,” she admitted.

Maybe you can help each other adjust.

“I don’t need help.”

Those who protest the most sometimes need the most help. The traits of earth complement those of fire as well.

“Not interested. I’m leaving in two weeks, when I turn eighteen.”

You have two weeks to help him. Consider it a personal favor to his pet bigfoot, who can’t be with him all the time.

Morgan was quiet, unconvinced Beck needed the help of someone like her.

It plays a part in the trial of your brother, Sam added.

“Helping Beck does? How?”

That will be revealed in time. Just know that you can help your brother by helping Beck.

“Alright,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll protect him from the crazy blonde.”