Annie Hayden's Arc

Chapter 11 of 27

Kaelen sat Annie on the edge of the bed. He worked by lamplight while the fox curled at her feet. He wound clean cloth around her arm, slow and even, from wrist to elbow. His hands were steady, but his jaw stayed tight. When she winced, he stopped. When she breathed, he went on. "It's not your fault," he said. "You reached for what you could not measure. No one taught you to feel the edge." Annie looked at the wand on the chair. Its purple crystal caught the lamplight. That crystal had saved her, then burned her. She could not tell the difference between a thread of power and a flood until it was too late. "Then teach me the edge," she said. "Before it takes my whole arm next time." Kaelen tied off the cloth. He did not answer at once. Something crossed his face, quick and dark. She had seen it before and could not name it. It looked like fear. She wondered what a man with ice in his hands could fear. "I can't," he said. "I channel my own magic. It lives in me. Yours is borrowed, pulled through the fox. I don't know where your limit sits." He stood. "But my father does. He has watched beings burn for a hundred years. He knows the sign before the burn." He woke the household. His father came in a blue robe, gray hair loose, a crystal-topped staff in one hand. High Mage Frostwyn looked like Kaelen aged into stone. He took Annie's bandaged arm and turned it in the lamplight. He grunted. "Deep," he said. "You felt nothing until the fire climbed. Yes?" "Nothing," Annie said. "Because you listen with your eyes." He set his staff aside. "Give me your hand. The good one." She did. He pressed her palm to the fox's warm flank. "The heat that leaks from you is the same heat you pull. Feel it move. Do not watch the wand. Watch this." He made her draw a thread through her fingers, no wand, no crystal, just skin against the fox. The warmth crept up her arm. When it grew from a trickle to a rush, her elbow began to ache. "There," Frostwyn said. "That ache is the sign. Stop when you feel it. Not after." Annie drew again. She felt the trickle. She felt the ache start. She let go before it grew. The warmth faded. Her skin stayed cool. She did it again, and again, until she could find the line in the dark. Kaelen watched from the doorway. The fear had left his face. "Now you have a warning," Frostwyn said. "But a warning is not a wall. Feel it and you can still choose to push past. On the mountain, when the hunter comes, you will want to." He picked up his staff. "We begin at dawn. You will learn what your body pays for every thread. Sleep." Annie flexed her bandaged arm. For the first time, she knew when she was pulling too much. The panther would come again. Now she could hear the burn before it reached her.