Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(88)

It’s her.





THIRTY-THREE

SAGE

“The protector spell won’t let me hurt you,” he says, his voice tense as he passes the knife back.

I take it from him for the second time, the smooth hilt cool against my palm.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll just do a quick cut then—where’s the best spot?” I wave the blade over my forearm.

His hands go in his pocket. “Your palm. And you should hurry. I feel like I’m going to come out of my skin if I don’t stop you.”

“Right.” Without thinking about it, I press the blade’s edge to the soft flesh of my palm as hard as I can and slice with a quick swipe.

I hiss in a breath, my hand throbbing instantly. It’s a good cut, blood pearling up, sliding in a thick coat over my palm, dripping from my fingers to the floor. “Now what?” I ask through my teeth.

“You’ll still heal with the torque on, maybe a bit slower, but you shouldn’t be able to release the energy in its element form.” He directs my attention from my bloody hand to the cardboard. “Focus on the pain. Try to push it into the cardboard. Remember yesterday afternoon, how the energy felt when it rose.”

I have no trouble focusing on the pain. I stare down at the cardboard and try to sense that part of myself I’m just getting to know, the spark of heat in my blood.

The sting pulses over my arm and up my shoulder, and something stirs. My belly is growing warm, and my chest is heating.

“I feel it,” I say.

“Now attempt to push it outward, like the sensation is your weapon, your punch at something trying to hurt you.”

I stare at the cardboard and try to get a grip on the stirring. I breathe in slowly through my nose. And I shove outward.

The energy surges, growing hotter in a nanosecond. My hand coats with orange light, small tongues of fire licking over the wound as it closes. But there’s a sudden pushback, the heat dulling as quickly as it flared.

The cardboard smokes at my feet.

“Good,” Faelan says. “I felt the block, did you?”

“I think so.”

“It’s working.”

I release a shaky breath and touch the medallion, tracing the amber-encased moth with my fingertip. “It worked.” I can’t help the huge smile that fills my face as relief washes over me. “Oh my God, that was awesome. I felt it. Like, really felt the thing inside me that time.”

“Good, Sage,” he says, answering with his own smile.

The sight of his dimple sends tingles down my legs. “I’m going to be able to control it,” I say, giddy.

“You are.”

The realization of what that means hits me. I won’t hurt anyone now. I’m free. I could actually leave if I wanted to.

But as soon as the thought rises, my excitement twists, turning sour. And where will you go, Sage? You’ll be totally alone out there.

“You all right?” Faelan asks, bringing me back.

“Yeah, totally,” I lie. “I’m super relieved.”

“Well, let’s go talk to Marius,” he says, studying me like he knows I’m faking my smile now. “We still have a lot of ground to cover.”





THIRTY-FOUR

FAELAN

Sage and I walk down the hall to the red door. It opens before my knuckles hit the wood to knock. Gerald, Marius’s selkie assistant, is there, looking at us with his white eyes. “The master will be out in a moment. Please wait for him there.” He points to the two seats facing the desk.

When Sage sits, she grips the arms of the chair, her knuckles turning white. I’m not sure why she’s so tense. It seemed like she was relieved for a second about the torque—for good reason. Her energy being contained will help her have a smoother transition. And it’ll allow for a clearer head when she chooses her House. She’ll still have to deal with the memories, but I’m hoping Marius will have a solution to that, maybe speeding up the process so they’ll fade faster.

It doesn’t take long for Marius to emerge from his feeding room. His chest is bare, a towel is wrapped around his neck, and there are drops of water falling from his damp silver hair. The scars from his years as a child slave in Rome are apparent. I glance at Sage to see how she reacts. She’s not really looking at him, though. She’s biting her nails and staring past him at the feeding room door where Marius’s selkie concubine, Paris, can be seen climbing from the feeding tub, naked.

My eyes move to the floor, and my stomach clenches as I realize Sage will think all the wrong things about what she’s seeing.

Marius shuts the door and walks over to us, drying his hair with the towel. “What’s the urgency?” he asks. “I was planning to come to the house in an hour or so. Is everything all right?”

I stand. “Yes, sir—I mean, we’re not sure. Sorry to interrupt you. I just wasn’t sure this was something that I should wait on.”

“Sit, Faelan.” He goes to the other side of the desk, pulls a white cotton T-shirt from a drawer, and puts it on. He folds his towel and sets it aside. “Did something happen last night after I left?”

“In a way,” I say. Sage is silent as Marius focuses on her. “It’s come to my attention,” I continue, deciding to get right to the point, “that she’s having dreams of Queen Lily. Blood memories, to be exact.”