Page 19 of Of Bone and Ash

“Uh…” I rasp, stepping forward and patting Atlas on the head in a rare show of affection. “You okay?” I ask, then curse under my breath. I know he’s not okay. Why did I ask him that?

See, I suck at this.

Atlas surprises me when he chuckles and shakes his head, peering up at me through dark lashes. “Are you patting me like a dog?” he asks, and I shrug, immediately removing my hand. My fingers had begun to grow numb as my magic itched for release. I step back, not wanting to risk hurting Atlas with my magic.

So far, the only person I know my magic won’t hurt is Gabriel, since he’s also a Reaper. He’s the only one I can let my guard down with. He’s also the one who stressed to me over the years to be careful with our family. Just because I care for them doesn't mean they’re safe from my magic. It can and will kill them if left unrestrained.

“You had sad puppy eyes,” I defend when Atlas’ chuckles turn into full-blown laughter. “It seemed like the right thing to do.” When Atlas' face turns red from trying to suppress his laughter, I simply roll my eyes at him. “Dick,” I hiss under my breath as I stride away from him.

“I love you, Fina!” he hollers after me, making me shake my head and flip him off over my shoulder. “Make sure you have that essay done. Gabe wants weekly reports on your grades!” The door of the classroom shutting cuts off his laughter as I rush down the spiral stairs of the ridiculously high tower. My feet seriously ache, something that’s only gotten worse since my small run this morning.

“Freaking brothers and their weird emotions,” I mutter, striding out into the hall and jerking to a halt when a set of bright blue eyes appear in front of me.

“Did you know talking to yourself is a sign of anxiety, depression, and even obsessive-compulsive disorder?” Adam asks, his soft voice filtering through my red haze and calming me slightly. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering how the hell his presence alone calms me down.

“Do you have any other magic besides teleportation?” I ask, bypassing the talking-to-myself thing he just said. I already know I have issues; I don't need Adam to tell me that. So I step around him and continue my way down the crowded hall, not bothering to move out of people's way. I’m glad when they scatter before I even have the chance to glare at them for getting in the way.

“Not that I’m aware of. Though, like I said the other day, I can see people's auras! It's a fun trick that my mom has as well. Why?” Adam asks, rushing to keep up with my long stride. I don't answer, not sure what to say to him.

You calm my murderous magic, and I want to know why.

Yeah, probably not something I should say out loud. I don't even know this guy, though I guess we are friends, so maybe we should try to get to know each other.

“Are you hungry?” Adam asks after a moment of silence on my part, and I nod, loving how he doesn't seem offended at my lack of answer. “Dining hall or the shop?” he asks, and I tilt my head to the side.

“Shop?” I ask as we descend the main stairs, moving through the castle to the courtyard outside. The sun still hides behind a thick blanket of gray clouds, casting a darker shadow over Silverwood.

“Yeah. It's over by the sports field and arena. It's nothing big, just a convenience shop for the students since the nearest store is in the town at the base of the mountain. But it's nice to have access to snacks and necessities without driving thirty minutes to get them.”

“The shop sounds great,” I tell him, shouldering my bag as I head in the direction he pointed out. I’m desperate to get out of these shoes, and I honestly need a nap. Last night's dream knocked me off my game, and I don't feel like I slept a wink.

Adam leads me through the crowd of students, which slowly begins to thin as time goes on. I watch as a young guy runs for the castle, his hair a mess and his face panicked. He looks at his phone and curses, picking up his pace.

“They have the best homemade soap here,” Adam mutters, shoving open the little wooden door to the small building in front of us. It's cute and completely different from the rest of the university, more like a cottage than a medieval-type building. The log structure has flower boxes under each window, filled to the brim with brightly colored flowers. They must have some kind of enchantment on them to survive the cold climate here at Silverwood. The windows have bright white shutters on either side, giving the building a cheerful look like someone's grandma lives inside.

“Marjorie makes a fresh batch every Sunday. She has this oatmeal and honey one that I buy every time. It's so good,” he continues to ramble on. Smirking, I nod and follow him inside, a small bell chiming as we walk in. Of course, Adam's favorite thing in the shop would be soap.

Looking around, I instantly feel at ease. The tiny shop is filled with wooden shelves that appear to be handmade. On one side of the store are snacks and a few groceries, with a cooler on the back wall containing milk and some other refrigerated items. On the other side, there are shelves filled with household needs, most of which appear to be homemade. There are even a few knitted blankets hanging in the corner, ranging in color from soft cream to the school colors of black and gold.

Plants hang in every corner of the tiny cottage, and the humidity is thick, making me feel like I just stepped into some kind of paradise island shop.

“Adam!” a stout little woman who can't be over five feet tall calls as she bustles over to us, a large smile on her wrinkled face. Her gray hair is swept up into a cotton candy-like bun on top of her head, and her dress is made of several types of fabric, some patterned, some solid. All of them are layered together, making her skirt full and colorful. She has a soft-looking leather belt cinched tight at her waist, and her top is a patchwork of the same fabrics from her skirts laced up the front of the dress. She looks like some adorable witch from a child's fairytale book who lives in a forest.

“Marjorie,” Adam greets fondly, nodding at her as he looks over the small shelf of tiny soap bars. “This is Serafina, a friend of mine,” he’s quick to introduce me, waving in my direction.

“Hello,” I say softly, trying to control my magic so I don’t frighten the cute older woman.

“Hello, dear,” Marjorie greets me, smiling at me with only a hint of hesitancy before looking back at Adam. “I have a new batch curing in the back. I want you to try it out,” she says, bouncing on her toes excitedly. Adam’s eyes widen in delight as he nods.

“Really? Is it the one we were talking about last week?” he asks as he follows Marjorie to the back of the store. I watch after them and purse my lips, looking around the shop. There are two other girls in here, going through the small rack of Silverwood sweaters and shirts by the door. They seem to be ignoring me, so I stroll to the shelves holding all the snacks, eyes looking over them. I need more than jerky and chips today.

My stomach is rolling, protesting my lack of food, and I sigh in frustration. I need to eat but I find it easier to control my magic when I’m hungry. It's been almost twenty hours since I last ate, and I can’t go a full twenty-four hours without getting massive headaches.

I walk past the chips and crackers, then move past the small bags of sweets before pausing and grabbing a little bag of licorice. It's my weakness. I love the bittersweet taste of the black candy. Holding the small bag between my fingers, I move to the cooler and smile when I see several pre-made sandwiches and a few salads. Snagging two of each, I walk to the counter, ready to check out.

Marjorie comes bustling out of a small door that I’m guessing leads to the back room, where Adam must still be looking at her new soaps.

“Is that everything, dear?” she asks sweetly, her hand waving through the air, moving the small plants that litter the counter in front of me. Her calm magic drifts over my fingertips as I place my items on the counter, and I nod in answer to her question as my magic immediately senses the new magic.

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