Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno (non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

part of me, part of my soul, and I couldn’t risk losing it to him or to anyone.

And yet, even though I was yelling incoherently, something happened. The man stopped mid-reach and looked at his hand — the one gripping my arm — in horror. His fingers were bright red and smelled like smoke. The color traveled into his hand, up his arm, blanketing his whole body. His terrified eyes met my equally alarmed ones right before he burst into flames that quickly consumed him. Within moments, all that remained of him was a sorry pile of ash at my feet.

The entire camp went deathly silent. Stopped in mid-fight, both my friends and our foes were staring at me. I stared back at them, then at the ashes. Did that really just happen? And had I truly been the cause of it?

Turning toward my friends, I took a step forward. I didn’t know what I would do — grab my weapon? try doing deliberate magic? run away? — but when I broke the spell by moving, the other bandits dropped their weapons, their packs, and anything else they were holding in their hands, and fled into the forest. Part of me felt empowered, like nothing could stand against me. And part of me wanted to call after the men, even though they had threatened our lives, and tell them I wasn’t normally like this.

Except I didn’t know what was normal anymore.

Chapter Eighteen

THE BLOOD WAS STILL pounding in my ears, not from adrenaline, but from worry. My friends were still frozen in place where they had been when the bandits ran off. I looked at each of them in turn. Farrah looked thoughtful; Rhyss looked a little frightened, but also excited. Beyan’s expression was hardest to read.

Rhyss broke the tension by shaking his head in amazement and saying, “Wow, Allayne. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

I laughed, shakily. “Me neither.”

“You saved us,” he said more seriously. “We were barely holding our own against those men until you did that. Scared them right off.”

I nodded and shrugged numbly. I didn’t feel much like a hero.

Farrah crossed over to me and put her hands on my shoulders. Studying my face, she asked, “Are you okay?”

“I... I think so.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re in shock.”

“Maybe? I don’t know? I’ve never done that before.”

“Never used your magic in that way?”

“Never... never killed someone.”

Farrah pulled me into a hug. “It is unsettling,” she agreed. “And it doesn’t get easier if and when it happens again. But you weren’t doing it in cruelty or malice. You were defending yourself. That man would have robbed you, or worse, if you hadn’t used your magic against him.”

Or worse. I shuddered.

Farrah turned away and rummaged through her pack. Finding a shawl, she held it out to me. Wordlessly, I took it and wrapped it around myself, willing it to be armor against my jumbled emotions instead of just flimsy fabric.

“What did you do, exactly?” Beyan asked.

“I’m honestly not sure,” I admitted. My fingers grasped the pendant. There was no point in keeping it secret anymore, since the entire group had seen the bandit try to take it. “That man — ” I tried not to look at the pile of ash  “ — wanted it, I didn’t want him to have it, and the next thing I knew... well, you know.”

Beyan tried to study the necklace without studying anything else about me, which was kind of hard, given my that my dress was half torn. I appreciated his chivalry, and would have found the situation amusing if I wasn’t so stunned by the night’s events.

“A soulstone,” Beyan said. “I didn’t think there were any left. I thought they were just legends or fantasies.”

Soulstone. When Beyan named the jewel around my neck, something settled into place in my heart. It made sense, the way my moonstone and I were tied together, the way I felt so strongly about it.

“Where did you get it?” Beyan asked me. I hesitated, trying to think of what I could say that would sound plausible but not give away any more secrets.

A slight breeze danced through the camp, stirring up the ash at my feet and blowing it past my face. I sneezed.

“You can satisfy your curiosity later,” Farrah chided Beyan. “We have a few things to take care of first.” To me, she asked, “You have a change of clothing, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Go get it and change into it, and give me the dress you’re wearing. I can fix the tear,” she said. “I’ll go with you as lookout.”

Rhyss snorted. Farrah shot him a dirty look. I relaxed a little. At least things were beginning to get back to normal.

“And you two boys can clean up the camp,” she said, indicating the items lying around from the bandits’ flight.

“If I wanted someone to boss me around, I would have brought my mother,” Rhyss said, but he started picking up weapons and putting them in a pile by the fire. Beyan retrieved his knife from the fallen bandit and cleaned it off.

I went to my pack to get my other dress. My dagger was on top of all my other things, and I slipped it into my boot, determined never to go anywhere without it again. Farrah and I went into the forest just at the edges of our camp, and I quickly changed into my new dress. Farrah took my ripped gown from my arms as we walked back.

While Farrah stitched by the firelight, I helped Rhyss gather the bandits’ things, returning the items they had stolen from us and going through their bags to see what spoils we had gained. Beyan took care of the more distasteful tasks, sweeping the ash out of the area and dragging the dead bandit away from the camp and into the forest.

Our chores finished, Beyan and Rhyss joined Farrah and me by the fire. Farrah had put her sewing tools