Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(44)

When he was relaxed, he shared his earth magick with her. The moment the earth’s visions reached her, she gasped.

The magick was sharing one of its random memories. This one was of the tree in the Square. The earth showed it to them as a sapling, and Beck watched it grow among a few others in a field. The other trees around it fell to storms or snow, but the tree kept growing. Seasons passed in seconds as the tree continued to stretch towards the sky. The day came when Beck saw himself approach the tree in the field.

As customary in both the Native American beliefs of his father and his relationship with the earth, he asked it if it wanted to be a part of their celebration. The tree bowed its branches in silent agreement, its gentle spirit cheered by the invitation. Rather than cut it down, several men came to dig it up carefully, bind its long roots in gel meant to keep it hydrated when it was moved and then transported to the Square, where the tree was happy to bring joy to the students.

Beck smiled as he watched. He didn’t know why the earth chose this particular vision, especially since Morgan hated Christmas and threatened to burn down the tree. But any sort of communication with the magick brought him peace. He hoped the same was true for her.

He heard Morgan’s breath hitch and opened his eyes. Hers were squeezed closed, her breathing off again. There were tears on her face, and he frowned, puzzled. The vision meant something to her, even if he didn’t understand it.

“In. Out,” he said softly.

Her magick was swelling with her distress. He wanted to pull her into his arms to ease whatever pain she felt and kiss the plump lips.

“Stay focused on relaxing. Can you start a fire?” he asked.

A flame sprang up in front of him. The small release helped her.

“Good. Now, let it talk.”

“What?”

“It wants to talk. The earth shows you memories. Fire can do the same.”

Morgan was quiet. Beck nudged her fire with his earth magick, trying to help channel the wildness. The flame started to take shape, lashed out, then tried again.

Its story was even more disjointed than the earth’s. The flame took on rapidly changing shapes. Beck tried to follow it and was able to make out the story the earth told him. The fire was trying to mimic it, as if Morgan was focused on it. He saw a tiny tree grow in the blaze then burst into flames. It repeated twice more before she sighed.

“You create and I destroy,” she said sadly.

“The story meant something to you?” he asked.

She nodded. Opening her eyes, she broke contact with the earth to wipe her face.

“What?” he prodded.

“The tree is like me. It’s a survivor, and it found its way here. To you,” she replied. Her intent gaze was on him.

“That’s a good thing,” Beck said, warmth blooming within him.

“No, it’s not,” she whispered. “Nothing can save us from the flames. We find a moment of happiness, and it goes up in smoke.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“You can protect the tree. It’s too late for me.”

Beck studied her, concerned.

“I gotta go.” Morgan stood. “Thank you for sharing your magick with me.”

“Morgan, wait,” he said, hopping to his feet.

“No. Walking away.”

I don’t want to walk away. The words stuck in his throat at the determined look on her face. Beck couldn’t help feeling a little hurt by her rejection.

“Sure. I remember,” he said and smiled widely, trying to pretend like it didn’t matter. “I was just going to say not to forget how to meditate. It might help you control your fire better.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Bye, Beck.”

“Bye, Morgan.”

She turned and walked away. Beck instinctively asked the earth to clear a path for her. His phone rang. He answered it, eyes on her.

“Beck?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Noah. I was wondering if you had a minute to meet me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Beck said. He doubted Dawn’s brother was coming for a social visit. He had always liked the Dark water witchling but knew there could be no friendship between them anymore.

“I’m in the driveway.” Noah sounded amused. “Decker said I can’t come any further.”

Beck smiled. His twin hated the new rule about Dark witchlings visiting the Light Campus. So far, he’d obeyed it and ensured all the other Dark witchlings did, too.

“On my way,” Beck replied. He hung up and made his way through the forest towards the road. It always made him smile to see the random Dark witchling standing in the middle of the driveway. They’d soon need a parking lot on one side to ensure the drive stayed clear.

He reached the gravel and glanced towards the school. Morgan was seated on the front porch. He waved then trotted towards the point where the Dark witchlings were instructed to come. Noah stood, leaning against his motorcycle. Dressed in heavy winter clothing, the blond witchling had grown and filled out since the last time Beck saw him. Noah was tall with a square jaw and naturally slim frame, his layer of muscle reminding Beck how fast the track runner was. Noah was uneasy, and Beck had no problem understanding why.

“Welcome back,” Beck said and offered his hand.

“Thanks,” Noah said and shook it.