Page 74 of Our Radiant Embers

“Could be? I guess I never thought about it. It’s the kind of thing Gale might know.” Rather than take another sip, I set the bottle down between us and shot Liam a brief look. “You said you never used to feel like it was heavy. So you do now?”

He didn’t immediately answer, and when he did, hesitation coloured his tone. “Kind of? It’s like my magic has been…” He inhaled, the distant call of a seabird bridging the gap. “Restless, I guess.”

“Restless?”

“Like it’s…” He raised a hand, palm up, in a helpless sort of gesture. “I’m not quite sure how to describe it. Not like it’s rebelling against me—more like it’s changing and kind of…evolving? But that’s not possible. Right? And anyway, it feels lighter here, like you said.”

Evolving? Magic was considered fairly stable once a child had risen to full potential, typically before the age of six.

“Well, I thought it wasn’t possible for anyone to control more than two elements, so…” I glanced at his profile, cut out against a sky that was starting to turn a deeper shade of crimson. “What do I know?”

For several seconds, only the soft sounds of the beach hung around us—the whisper of the sea and a steady breeze, laughter drifting over from a group of friends who’d brought candles, blankets, and a generous supply of cider.

Then Liam exhaled and tipped his head back, rolling his shoulders against invisible tension. “Honestly feels like I’m going a bit mad—first the nightmares, now this. Haven’t actually told anyone about it.”

“Until me just now?” I asked, and his response carried the trace of a smile.

“I guess so, yeah. But you already knew about the nightmares.”

I wanted to run my hands along the curve of his spine and up. Slowly, slowly, then dig my fingers into the corded muscle between his shoulder blades until whatever tension he held melted away.

I didn’t. Of course I didn’t.

“No more headaches?” I asked instead.

“Not since Monday.”

“Good.” I picked up a pebble, smooth in my palm. The evening’s coolness was truly beginning to set in now, the world fading into a silhouette against the twilight sky. Boats blurred into shadows. “And when you say your magic is evolving…Does it look different?”

“I’m not sure.” He shifted, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. “It’s hard to see myself objectively, you know?”

I flashed him a smile. “What a deeply profound statement. Next you’ll tell me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Smartarse.” His voice was warm. “I meant my magic. Much easier to read others’ than my own.”

Yeah, I got that. When working on prototypes with him, my own magic had seemed dim to me, faintly tinting the world around me. Only if I focused on specific areas could I make it out in more concrete detail, visible tendrils snaking out as I guided them towards a task. I’d seen Liam’s magic much more clearly, swirls of blue, green, white, and orange enveloping him.

Hmm.

“You want me to take a look?” I asked.

“You know, I didn’t even think of that. Guess I could have asked my Nan, too.”

I stifled a grin. “You’re too bloody used to doing everything yourself. Share some of the burden, Liam. The rest of us want to feel useful, too.”

“Oh, shut up.” It carried no real heat, and he didn’t hesitate before reaching over to slot our fingers together. At this point, the contact felt natural—even here, on a public beach where the falling darkness provided a sense of anonymity.

One blink, and the world was coated in a distant haze of orange. I gave myself a moment to adjust before I turned my attention to Liam. He shone like a beacon, colours shifting in a gentle, soothing dance. Brighter than before? Impossible to say with shadows wrapped around us that made the flicker of a candle appear like a blazing halo.

“It’s...” Beautiful. “Calm. Doesn’t seem restless or anything like that. And didn’t you tell me it reflects a person’s mood? Rather than it being an independent entity.”

“I think it depends.” After a squeeze of my fingers, Liam let go, and the stars came out again. “There are some, like you, who have amazing control over their magic. With you, it’s an extension of who you are, not just this separate entity that happens to be attached to you. So, yeah, it reacts to your mood—like I said, I can tell whether you’re angry, for example.” He paused, a small grin showing in his tone. “Or turned on.”

“Duly noted.” I kept all traces of embarrassment out of my voice. Yeah, I wanted him—what else was new? “But what you just said, I’m not sure that’s true. The part about how it’s simply an extension of me. There are moments when it feels…alive. Conscious.”

“Like when you’re throwing the full force of it at a bunch of buildings?” Liam asked. It held no judgement.

“For example, yes. It’s like there’s this inherent glee about…not destruction, I don’t think so.” I let my gaze skim to the distant lights of an offshore wind farm. “Making an impact, maybe. It’s like my magic gets drunk on her own power, and I need to rope her back in.”

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