Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(9)

“I don’t know.”

“Seriously?” he demanded. “That’s it?”

“That’s all I know, son.” She said, laughing at his baffled look.

“So, something did this, but it has nothing to do with the three people most likely to cause it.”

“When did you notice it?” she asked.

“Today,” he answered.

“What’s happened on campus?”

He thought hard. He spent some time catching up with Amber. She’d reported no issues, no trespassing of Dark students, nothing. Even Decker had obeyed the rules about staying off campus when he came to see his girlfriend, Summer, and stood at the edge of the Light source.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Something did. I suggest you figure that out, son,” his mother said, amused.

“I’ll add it to my to-do list.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re certain about the usual suspects?”

“Absolutely. Only Dark can chip away at the Light source. All I can sense is that it wasn’t from a Dark source we know of.”

“If you think of anything else, will you tell me?”

She nodded and rose. Beck did so as well, attention on the ground beneath their feet.

“You coming for dinner?” she asked.

“Not tonight. The past few weeks put me behind. There’s no chance of me breaking for Christmas if I don’t get caught up at school.”

“You’re a good kid.”

“Whatever.” He flashed her a smile.

“Your dad will need to see you tomorrow during lunch. About the Dawn issue.”

“Oh, god.” He wasn’t going to ask what was wrong now.

“Remember that next time you think of sleeping with anyone,” she reminded him, not for the first time. “Think with your head, not your hormones.”

“I know, I know, I know.”

“You’ll do fine, kid.” She smiled. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.” Beck stepped back. Black fog unfurled around his mother and absorbed her. Her Dark shadows swept her away.

He stayed where he was for a long moment, pensive, then crouched to the ground again.

“So, what’s up, earth?” he asked playfully of the magick. “What happened that you’re not telling me about?”

The earth memories floated through him. They showed him a heavy snow around the campus that receded with the spring. It stopped when all that was left covered the source of remaining Light. The melting stopped there, at the edges where Beck stood. He waited for more, not noticing the melt that began in the center of the campus, until it grew.

Startled, Beck watched. The earth memories stopped there.

“What was that?” he demanded.

The element didn’t answer. Known for their mysterious ways, elemental magicks spoke in a language only they really understood. When it was clear the earth was done talking to him, Beck rose. He traced his steps back to the center of the campus, ignoring the students decorating the tree. Instead, he went directly to the point the earth showed him. At least, he tried to. It was beneath the school itself.

Beck entered the schoolhouse and trotted downstairs to the basement, which was used primarily for storage. He flipped on the lights in the chilly basement and oriented himself. He found the spot the earth showed him and moved the stacks of plastic bins away.

Placing his hands on the cold cement floor, he summoned the earth magick. It drifted upward to him. There was no sign of a retreat of Light at the core of its source, like the earth’s visions showed him. Perplexed, Beck pushed more of his magick into the cement and pulled it back into him, wondering if amplifying the earth’s subtle voice would help.

It didn’t. There was no sign of weakness below him. Unable to decipher what exactly the earth was showing him, Beck didn’t hear anyone descend the stairway or approach him, until she spoke.

“I don’t like the holidays.”

He jumped and twisted to see the girl he most wanted to avoid. Morgan’s face was flushed still, but she appeared worried rather than angry this time. Her arms were crossed. She wore snug jeans and a dark blue, V-neck sweater that drew his gaze to her breasts. He straightened, reminding himself of Tanya and Dawn.

“Sorry. I’m not following,” he said, smiling at her.

“That’s why I’m not … adjusting well.”

Her air sizzled faintly with agitated fire magick. Instinctively, he had the urge to touch her and calm the magick. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his distance.

“Like Scrooge or something?” he asked.

“I guess.”

He waited for more. She said nothing. As with Connor, Beck sensed there was much more behind her shuttered features.

“Look, Morgan, I’m not trying to be a dick,” he started. “You’re flunking out of everything. You want me to tell Amber not to worry about it, because you don’t like Christmas?”

“It’s only two weeks away. It’ll be gone, I’ll be eighteen on the first, and everything will be okay,” she reasoned.

“I remember thinking that when I turned eighteen,” he said with a snort. “It didn’t happen that way.”

“I promise. I’ll be out of your hair.”