Annie Hayden's Arc

Chapter 2 of 27

In the morning, Mirael set a candle on the table and told Annie to try. "Reach for the warmth inside it," she said. "Pull the flame toward you." Annie stared at the small fire until her eyes watered. She held out her hand. Nothing moved. She tried for an hour. The flame stayed still. Mirael sat back and rubbed her wrinkled forehead. "I feel it in the air like breath. You feel nothing at all?" Annie shook her head. "There's just... nothing there." Mirael pulled a shawl over Annie's shoulders. "Then we go down to the valley. There is one there wiser than me." They walked a snowy path until the trees opened onto a village. Elf traders called from market stalls. A bakery breathed warm air and the smell of bread. Above it all rose a tall home with green rooftops. Mirael led Annie to a shop lined with glass bottles and dried herbs. The mage came out before they knocked. She had golden hair and sharp brown eyes that fixed on Annie at once. "Aelindor Brightspire," Mirael said. "This is the human I told you of." Aelindor did not greet Annie. She walked a slow circle around her, head tilted, lips pressed tight. She reached out but never touched, her fingers hovering an inch from Annie's arm. "Strange," she murmured. "Strange." "Try the flame for her," Mirael said. Aelindor snapped her fingers and a small fire bloomed in her palm. "Take it," she told Annie. Annie reached. She wanted it so badly her hand shook. Nothing came. Aelindor closed her fist and the fire died. She stepped back and folded her arms. "You cannot feel it because you were not born touching it," Aelindor said. "Every creature here drinks magic like water. You are dry. Empty." Annie's stomach dropped. "So I can't learn." "I did not say that." Aelindor's eyes narrowed with interest. "A vessel this empty could be filled, if it does not crack first. I have never taught a human. I would like to try." Hope rushed through Annie. "Yes. Please. I'll do anything." "Good," Aelindor said. "Because a student pays her teacher." She turned and pointed toward the white peak beyond the village. "On that mountain grows a fireflower. One bloom. It burns those who cannot hold magic, so no elf child dares climb for it. Bring it to me. Then I will teach you." Annie looked at the mountain. Snow. Cold. A flower made of fire that she had no magic to hold. "I could die up there." "You could," Aelindor said, and walked back into her shop. Mirael squeezed Annie's hand. "Do not go tonight. Pike keeps an inn. She is my old friend. She will give you a bed until you are ready." A soft-voiced elf woman met them at the inn door and looked Annie over with kind, opinionated eyes. "So you're the one everyone's whispering about," Pike said. "There's one room left. Take it. You'll need your rest before that mountain."