Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(46)

What she thought of him mattered, and he wasn’t sure why. He would do what he had to either way. She was unusually quiet. Sad, even, and Beck didn’t like that at all. He wanted to sweep her up for a kiss, just so she’d be pissed enough to talk to him. He wondered if her thoughts were on her own family and the pain at least one member caused. It infuriated him to think of anyone hurting her.

“I’m sorry for threatening the tree,” she said at last. “I didn’t know it was alive like that.”

“Everything is alive in some way,” he replied. “You wouldn’t burn it down anyway.”

“You don’t know that. Sometimes I get angry. Fire happens.”

“I do know that,” he countered. “Another of my gifts is the ability to see the good in people. I see it in you, too.”

Morgan glanced up at him, the emotion on her face one he couldn’t fully decipher. Yearning maybe, as if she wanted to believe him, but couldn’t. He wondered why she wouldn’t let herself trust him.

“I believe in you,” he said with a smile and nudged her arm again.

“Like I said before. You have poor judgment in girls,” she retorted.

They climbed the stairs to the schoolhouse. Beck said nothing, sensing she was distressed again without fully understanding why.

“Bye Beck,” she said and left him standing on the porch. The screen door closed loudly behind her.

“Bye Morgan,” he replied. The more he was around her, the more he wanted to be around her.

His gaze went to the forest. He was too restless to return to class. Instead, he went to the woods, in search of peace and a friend. Beck waited until he was far enough away that the companion he had in mind wouldn’t be seen from the road.

“Sam,” he called.

A path parted for him through the trees. He walked down it, until he found the large alcove at the bottom of an ancient tree. It was one of the yeti’s many homes in the forest. Beck walked through the dark entrance and saw Sam seated by a small fire, drinking cider.

The ugly bigfoot looked up at him with an equally ugly smile.

“Hey, Sam,” Beck said. He sat, making himself at home in the forest creature’s house.

Greetings to the Master of Light, the yeti replied into his mind cheerfully.

“How’s life out here?”

Very quiet. Summer brought me chocolate. I like it. If you see her again, ask her for more.

“The last thing we need is a fat yeti rolling around the forest,” Beck warned, chuckling.

Sam shrugged.

Beck grew quiet, thoughtful.

What troubles you today?

“The usual, I guess. Light, Dark, life.”

Is the fireball taking care of you?

Beck looked up at him curiously. “How do you know about Morgan?”

She found me in the forest. Offered to take Beck’s pet bigfoot home to him. Sam laughed hard.

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” Beck said ruefully. “You only talk to girls who end up trashing my life. Please tell me that’s not the case.”

The impact she will have on your life has yet to be determined.

Beck sat up straight, alarmed by the vague answer.

She has heart, but fire witchlings tend to be a little emotional in their decision making.

“You’re talking about her trial, aren’t you?” he asked, hushed. “Will it be bad, like Summer’s?”

Bad? They are never bad by nature.

“You know what I mean!”

Sam smiled.

“Ugh, Sam!” Beck exclaimed. “I need some good news.” He remembered the notebook in his pocket and whipped it out. “The earth has been giving me some cryptic messages. Can you help me interpret them?”

Maybe.

“The first one was Sunday. It showed me Darkness eating away the Light source from its center. I checked it but didn’t find anything wrong.”

Sam cocked his head to the side, listening.

“The second was really weird. Fire then a rock.”

Rock?

“I don’t know how to describe it. It was a rock, but not a normal one. It was black. Cold. Dark.”

Soul stone.

“What?”

Long ago, some Masters of Dark and Light figured out how to distill Dark souls into a physical form. We called them soul stones.

“Why would anyone do that?”

Initially, the Darkness was too strong. Nataniel-the-Darkbringer, the first Dark Master of your line, faced an incredible challenge. He did not live long enough to completely corral the Darkness. His son, Horus-the-Peacebringer, was just as strong and ruled for forty years. The third in your line, Bartholomew-the-Terrible, fell to the Darkness during a critical period that would determine if the Darkness could be vanquished. He grew Darkness for over fifty years, destroying much of the progress made by his predecessors.

Beck listened, intrigued by the history he’d never learn in school. Sam had lived for at least a thousand years and known each Light and Dark Master personally. Decker learned much of their history from their mother when he transitioned to his position. Beck transitioned alone, learning later that the Mistress of Light who should’ve helped him had been dead for twenty years.

The fourth in your line, Tranin-the-Restorer, never would’ve been able to withstand the Darkness, if he didn’t find a way to remove Bartholomew’s influence from his mind. His twin, the Master of Light, Tyron-the-Bright, helped him distill the soul for temporary keeping, in hopes that a few generations of strong Dark Masters would contain the Darkness and the soul would be returned to its rightful place.