The Spark of a Feudling

by Wendy Knight

  Richard beamed. “I believe now would be a good time.”

  He led her out of the study, locking it behind him and raising an eyebrow at her as he handed the heavy key ring over. “I trust you will be returning those to their rightful owner?”

  Ada felt her entire face flush. “Yes, Daddy.”

  The estate had what would have been a cellar. At one time, when the attacks were coming much too often, they had converted it to a dungeon with holding cells. Ada hadn’t been down there since, and she hesitated at the entrance, shivering at the gust of cool, dank air. She couldn’t feel the cold, but the fear was there, irrational though it may be. Richard scowled at her. “A great sorcerer shows no weakness, Ada,” he snapped.

  She swallowed hard and lifted her skirts, following him into the darkness. When the door behind her clanged shut, she bit back a scream, shoving her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out. In front of her, sparks lit, chasing the darkness as Richard let flames loose from his fingertips, like a human torch. Why have I never thought of that? She lit her own flames, holding her hands out in front of her to ward off the terror creeping in from every side.

  Her father had reached the bottom of the staircase. She could just make out his form, striding confidently across the room. The glowing embers of a spell formed in the darkness, and he pushed it forward. It flew through the dimness, igniting a great chandelier in the center of the room. Shadows were chased to the furthest corners and Ada could finally see clearly.

  The room had been cleared of cells, and food, and everything else. It was a huge, empty expanse of space, although there were still suspicious dark stains where the chains had once held prisoners to the walls. Ada looked away quickly, remembering the blood spilling from the man she’d killed only a few days before.

  “Come, Ada. I don’t have all day to wait for you to stand terrified on the stairs.” He sounded sickened, the pride from earlier completely gone. Ada clenched her teeth, let the flames at her fingertips die, and knotted her skirts in her fist. She took the stairs two at a time and hurried across the dirt floor to stand next to him.

  “Let’s begin with an easy one. I call this ginsti. Just a twist of your wrist here,” he raised his hand and burned the spell into the air before them, “and a dip of your finger here and you’re done.” A beautiful little spell hung in the air, waiting to be pushed toward its target. The red flames burned and fizzled, crackling in the still air. “Now you try.”

  Ada bit her lip, studying the spell. The sparks lit at her fingertips and she slowly traced it into the air. But where his burned brightly even in the bright lights, hers fizzled and went out. “Try again,” he snapped.

  This time her hand shook, and it didn’t resemble his in the slightest. “Concentrate, Ada!” he yelled. She yelped and jerked away from him, tracing it more quickly this time. It almost held, but not quite.

  “Like this!” Furious with impatience, he grabbed her hand and jerked it through the motions. When it still didn’t hold, he dropped her wrist like it had scalded him and burned the spell again himself. And then he shoved it at her.

  She screeched as the spell hit her in the same shoulder injured during battle. It burned, weaving through the top layers of skin.

  “Now you know how it feels. Learn to do it right, Ada.”

  She felt the tears in her eyes but refused to let them fall. That would only make him angrier and she wouldn’t give him more reasons to hit her with his spells. Richard rarely hit with his fists. It was the tricky little spells she had to watch out for.

  Raising her hand, she started again. There would be more attacks coming, she knew. She’d lived with this half-man, half-monster her entire life, although she hadn’t realized what he truly was until now. Even knowing what he was, she ached for his approval. He was her father, after all.

  ****

  “Where have you been all day? I’ve been sick with worry!” Christian exclaimed as Ada climbed tiredly through the briars.

  “Training. Sneaking. I don’t know,” Ada mumbled.

  “Are you unwell, Ada?” Charity’s soft voice wafted from across the pond, but Ada had to squint to see her. The burns around her eyes made them swollen, and it was difficult to see clearly.

  “No, I—”

  That must have been when Christian caught sight of her face. He jerked her to her feet and studied her in the dim twilight. “What happened to you?”

  She turned her face away, feeling her cheeks flush. “I… fell.”

  “Into a fire? Do you think me daft, Ada?” Christian exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. She winced.

  “Her father did it.” Charity’s voice was dull, and Ada didn’t have to look up to know her silver eyes were glowing.

  Christian’s face turned an alarming shade of burgundy, and his eyes blazed. Ada backed up, stumbling against the briars. “Why did he do this to you? I’m going to murder him, Ada. I’m going to—”

  “I was training. He’s training me and — and this is what happens when you train.” Ada raised her chin, hoping Christian would let it go. She didn’t want to fight. She was tired and she hurt and she just wanted to be with her dearest friends in the world.

  Christian’s face slowly returned to its usual paleness, leaving his eyes big and dark. “He was training you? Training you in what?”

  “In the spells he has made up. He has a whole book of them, and he caught me with it earlier. When I was looking for proof—” she stopped abruptly, looking over his shoulder at Charity.

  “Ah,” Christian said quietly.

  “I didn’t find it. But I told him I wanted to learn his spells.” She finally let her face break into a smile, despite the burns. “And once I learn them, I can teach them to you!”

  “You… you would do that?” Christian asked slowly. Light blue flames licked his fingertips as he raised his hands to her face, letting the fire heal her. She felt the soreness slowly fade as new skin mended over the wounds, the flames wrapping around the burns until they were gone.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “And yes, of course I would teach you. What a silly question.”

  He didn’t move his hands, his face only inches from hers. His thumb brushed her cheekbone as his eyes dipped lower, to her lips. She felt them tingle with something she didn’t understand, and she raised her face.

  “If they catch you, they’ll kill you.” Charity’s voice dragged Ada back into a consciousness she’d nearly lost in Christian’s eyes. She and Christian jerked apart, although Christian couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her face.

  Charity finally appeared from the shadows where she’d been sitting, crawling to the edge of the pond. “Teaching him, I mean. Carules shouldn’t be able to do Edren magic. Edrens should not do Carules spells. It blurs the lines.” She lay on her stomach and let her finger skim the surface of the water, watching it ripple away from her.

  “They can try to kill me. My father says I can be the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever known.” Ada couldn’t help the pride that entered her voice — despite the burns and the bruises and the aching, she was ecstatic that he had that much faith in her.

  Christian smiled fondly at her. “Let me heal you first. Then you can teach me.”

  “And I won’t even punish you if you get it wrong,” Ada teased, but Christian’s mouth tightened and his eyes darkened.

  “Is that what happened?”

  “I—” Her shoulders fell in defeat. “I didn’t learn fast enough. I deserved it.”

  Christian closed the distance between them, taking her chin in his hand. “Listen to me, Ada. You never deserve this. And if he does it again, I will kill him.”

  ****

  Ada was an amazingly good teacher. If she hadn’t been highborn and destined for a life of servants waiting on her hand and foot, Christian would have told her she’d make an outstanding governess. As it was, he practiced the new spells with her until far into the night, with Charity giggling whenever he failed. When they had ig
nited the briars for at least the eight hundredth time, she’d suggested they return home and get rest before they were discovered.

  “When do you practice again?” Christian asked as they wandered down the dirt path toward the estate.

  Ada brushed her red and black curls away from her face, and Christian didn’t miss the way her hand shook. “Tomorrow.” She peeked at him through the darkness. “But then I’ll have more spells to teach you tomorrow evening.” Her voice was pleading, begging him to understand, to not argue with her.

  “After I heal you.” He growled in the back of his throat. “Ada, I can’t let you face him again.”

  “You don’t have a choice, brother. If she fails him, her fate will be far worse than a few burns,” Charity said. “Might I suggest, Ada, finding that spell book again and practicing before he tries to teach you?”

  “Charity! That’s genius!” Ada exclaimed, hugging her impulsively. “What would I do without you?”

  Christian only had a brief moment of jealousy, wishing Ada would hug him that way.

  “I have another meeting with your father tomorrow. He says he has found a spell that will make my sight stronger,” Charity said, tugging on the lace at her elbow.

  Ada gasped. Christian’s blood froze. “No. You can’t,” he said.

  Big silver eyes glinted in the moonlight as his sister stared owlishly at him. “Why ever not?”

  He and Ada exchanged a long glance. No one could read him as well as she could, even his sister. Heaving a sigh, she nodded. “Charity, we’re afraid my father isn’t trying to make you stronger. We’re afraid…” She glanced at Christian for help and he picked up where she left off.

  “We’re afraid that her father might be trying to steal your gift.”

  Charity froze in the middle of the dirt path. The estate was just ahead, and light from the windows cast odd shadows across her face. “You cannot honestly believe that.”

  Ada reached for her hand, speaking in soft, soothing tones like she would to a bird about to take flight. “The other night when I found you—”

  “The other night, I found you, if I remember correctly. And did it ever occur to you that you couldn’t get me to come out of that vision because he had made me so much stronger?” Charity yelled, ripping her hand out of Ada’s grasp.

  Christian jerked his head back like she’d slapped him. Charity had never raised her voice before, even when he used to tease her mercilessly. Next to him, Ada’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Charity. We were just afraid for you.”

  “You’re just jealous of the time he’s spending with me.” Charity darted around Ada and disappeared into the darkness.

  Ada put a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry, but her shoulders still shook. It had been too long, too hard a day for her, and Christian could see that she had reached her breaking point. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms, smoothing her hair, tangling his fingers in the red and black curls he loved so much. “She’s not herself, Ada. She hasn’t been quite right since you brought her home. She doesn’t mean it.”

  Ada pulled away from him just enough that she could stare up into his face. “Do you think she really believes I’m acting out of jealousy?”

  He shook his head. ““No. She could never. Not if she was in her right mind. And don’t hold her responsible. We can’t be blamed for madness.”“

  She nodded silently, her dark hair brushing his cheek. She was so close. So close. If he just dipped his head… his gaze went to her lips. He’d been dreaming of what those lips would feel like against his own for so long. With massive effort, he raised his head. He couldn’t. It would compromise her; it would compromise everything.

  “Christian,” she whispered.

  He looked down again, opening his mouth to answer her, when she rose up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down to meet hers. He felt his eyes widen in shock before he realized what, exactly, was happening.

  And then he was lost.

  He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her tighter to him as the flames seemed to explode in his blood. Her mouth was so soft. He knotted her hair in his hands, feeling the silk coil around his fingers. He fought to pull her closer; he couldn’t seem to get her close enough to satisfy him.

  He pulled away, gasping for breath, and she watched him with wounded eyes. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asked quietly.

  He blew out a breath, shaking his head. “More than anything in the world, Ada. You have no idea how long I have wanted to kiss you.”

  “But you stopped.”

  “Ada, this could ruin you. If we are caught—”

  “I don’t care, Christian! They tell me to stay away from you. They tell me you aren’t good enough, but my heart knows what is right for me. They do not. And my heart wants you.”

  He stared at her, dumbfounded. Could it be possible? Could she really want him, despite everything society and their sorcerer lineage said?

  Without another word, he kissed her again, claiming her mouth with his own.

  ****

  He didn’t sleep. He lay awake until the sun came up, staring at the ceiling without actually seeing it. In fact, he didn’t see anything but her face, her lips, her eyes begging him to kiss her again and again until her father’s guards had called. She’d smiled shyly, kissed him quickly one last time, and raced for the house.

  It was like every dream he’d ever had came true in those long, stolen minutes with her, and every second until he could be with her again was an eternity.

  As soon as the sun came up, he bounded out of bed and raced for the stables, rushing through his chores. He mucked stalls, curried the horses, fed and watered everything in sight. Even so, the sun was low in the western sky by the time he finished and rushed for their hideaway.

  She was there waiting. “I thought you’d never get here!” she said, meeting him at the edge of the pond. He immediately wrapped her in his arms, lowering his head to meet her lips. The flames roared, and sparks leaped from her fingers, burning the back of his neck. It was a delicious pain, and he welcomed it.

  His mouth left hers, trailing kisses across her jaw to her temple and down her neck. “Christian,” she yelped, and he heard the alarm in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, love,” he murmured, his lips against her temple.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m just…”

  He held her at arm’s length, squinting, trying to see her clearly in the twilight. It hadn’t just been just alarm in her cry — there had been pain, as well. She was covered in burns, and this time, bruises also.

  “He hurt you.” Blue flames leaped from his fingers as he held them to her face, gently running them over the many wounds. Why her face? Richard seemed to focus most of his attacks there, and Christian had a very hard time keeping the anger from the flames he was using to heal. He didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.

  “I was training.” Her gaze dropped, unable to meet his, and the flames leaped viciously. She winced but didn’t make a sound.

  “I’m going to kill him, Ada.”

  She shook her head, silky hair tumbling around her face. “No, Christian, please don’t say that. I’m learning so much. I can teach you so much.”

  Her face healed, for the most part, and he started looking for wounds elsewhere. “I’d rather know nothing but that you are safe and unharmed by your own father.” He met her eyes, scowling, but she flushed and looked away.

  “If I wasn’t so slow, he wouldn’t have to hurt me.”

  Christian’s hands dropped to his sides in disbelief. “Do you hear what you’re saying? Do you hear how ridiculous that is?” he exclaimed, furious.

  Her shoulders fell and a tear rolled slowly down her cheek, glistening in the dim light. “Yes. I know how ridiculous I sound. I’m sorry, I just—”

  Christian kissed her into silence. “You don’t need to explain.”

  “You two are going to get caught. And then we
will be banished from the estate and we’ll live in poverty for the rest of our days.” Charity crawled through the briars. Even from across the pond, Christian could see her eyes glowing like she was in the middle of a vision.

  Ada had noticed too. “Charity, can you see?”

  “A little.”

  “You were with my father today, weren’t you?” Ada’s voice sharpened in alarm and Charity flinched.

  “I don’t remember. I don’t remember…” Charity’s voice trailed off, tipping her head sideways like she was trying to see around something. Suddenly her voice changed to the normal soft lilt instead of the dislocated, hollow tone and she whimpered. “Ada, I’m so sorry for what I said last night. I didn’t mean it.”

  Ada left Christian’s arms and rushed to Charity’s side. Taking Charity’s slender hand in both of hers, she said, “I know you didn’t. I know. I’m worried for you, Charity. Something is happening.”

  “I don’t remember,” Charity said, her voice slipping again into the hollow distant tone.

  Christian strode over to them, scooping Charity into his arms. “We need to get her home to my mother.” He couldn’t very well crawl through the briars and carry his sister, so he curled his arms around her, protecting her as much as he could and stalked right into them. They tore at the skin on his arms and face, ripped his clothes. He felt the blood well up and spill across his skin.

  “Christian, wait!” Ada tugged him back. Sparks exploded from her fingers and she burned a spell into the air. It was one she had been trying to teach him the day before. An alable, if he remembered correctly. The wall of flames shot from her hands, igniting the briars.

  As they burned away to nothing, Charity murmured, “You’re going to start the entire forest on fire.”

  “England is far too wet for that.” Ada led the way through the still-smoldering bushes. “I do believe I’ve just given away our hiding spot, though.” She glanced over her shoulder at Christian, her eyes sad.