Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(8)

Connor glared toward the schoolhouse.

“Wow,” one of the guys murmured. “What’d you say to her?”

“Want me to try?” Beck asked.

“Beck can soften up any girl,” another teen said.

He shot a look over his shoulder. Connor’s eyes narrowed in response.

“No,” he said. “I’ll let her cool off and think.”

“Fire elements are like that,” Beck said, accustomed to his brother’s occasional outbursts as well. Decker, the Master of Dark, was a triple element: fire-water-spirit. He was the very definition of unstable. Beck had learned when to leave him alone and when he was approachable.

“Passionate, too,” another guy said.

“If anyone so much as looks at my sister, I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Connor said instantly. “Got it?” His gaze was on Beck.

“Beck only likes blondes,” Adam supplied. “He’s the least of your worries here.”

Beck smiled.

“Just, hold off on that phone call, okay?” Connor’s anger faded to concern.

“I’ll do what I can.”

Connor trailed his sister into the main house. Beck shook his head, not at all certain what was going on between the two.

“I love redheads,” one of the others said. “She’s hot. With a temper like that … wow.”

“You gotta get by Connor first. He’s got like, three black belts.”

“He’d have to with a sister that hot.”

Beck silently agreed, but assessed that Morgan was probably able to take care of herself. Anyone who made it by Connor would face a tough battle winning her over. He never had problems with girls, and she managed to give him the cold shoulder.

He just wished he knew what was wrong. Trying to keep her from being thrown out of school was not a complication he needed right now.

A glance at his watch told him that what little break he worked into his schedule this morning was over. It was time to get to work.

“See you guys at dinner,” he said, waving as he stepped away. He walked out of the Square and into the forest.

The earth magick cleared a path for him. Tree branches moved to the side after sweeping away snow to create a trail wide enough for one. Beck watched, always entertained by the elements and how they did things. Since becoming the Master of Light, his magick had become far more responsive. He walked into the forest, his step slowing as he counted.

Forty eight.

At step forty nine, he felt the loss of warmth that kept him from getting cold while he stood on the campus grounds.

“That’s not good,” he said and bent to the ground. He rested his hands on the frozen ground. It warmed instantly beneath his palms as the earth magick rose up to greet him.

At step forty eight, the magick coursed through him. At step forty nine, it merely floated.

Crouching, Beck pulled out his phone and texted his mother, the only person he could think of to talk to about this. Amber and the instructors at the school knew the Light was losing ground, but they didn’t have the depth of knowledge about the Darkness to advise him.

We lost a foot.

His mother would understand. He waited for her to show up, aware of her ability to find him, no matter where he was. She said it was a mother’s instinct, but he was pretty certain the former Mistress of Dark had placed spells of some sort on both her children so she always knew how to find them. Most of the time, it was annoying. Every once in awhile, it came in handy.

The Light had stopped receding for the first four months since he took his position as Master of Light. He checked it every day he was at the campus, wary for any changes that might indicate if he were gaining or losing ground against the Darkness. Moving the Dark students off campus probably helped salvage what was left of the only source of pure Light magick on the planet.

Today was the first day he checked it in three weeks, and the first loss he saw since taking his position.

Something was wrong.

He felt his mother’s warm-cool shadows a moment before she appeared. Beautiful and small, Rania Turner was dark of skin with long, blue-black hair captured in a low ponytail. She wore dark colors that amplified her natural sultriness.

“A foot?” she asked, kneeling beside him.

She was careful to stay opposite the Light source. Her Dark remained powerful, even after passing off the hereditary title of Mistress of Dark to his brother, Decker.

“After months of nada,” he summarized. “Suddenly a foot. I know Decker’s behaving.”

“Summer is seeing to that,” his mother answered with a smile.

“Great. Except that means I’m screwing up something.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, Beck.”

“A lot I gotta take care of.”

“Your dad can help you with the Dawn issue,” his mother said. “I can help you a little with this one.”

“You know what’s wrong?” he asked.

“No, but I know what’s not wrong.”

“No riddles, mother!”

“It’s not Decker or me. It’s not Darkness growing that caused this,” she said, ignoring him. “And, while I don’t know for sure, I’m going to guess it’s not anything you are or aren’t doing.”

Beck thought hard. “What does that leave?”