Page 27 of An Honored Vow

“Gwyn, you are not and have never been a burden.” I choked on the words. My hold on my gifts was waning, but Gwyn needed to hear this. “I’veneverthought that.”

A tear welled at the corner of her eye. She reached her hand out for me, but I stepped back. “Don’t touch me.” My voice shook enough for Gerarda to step between me and Elaran.

“Keera, your eyes.”

I didn’t need a looking glass to know they were glowing.

They were burning.

Some new kind of power thrashed underneath my skin. It didn’t scorch like a burnout, but instead itched like a thousand tiny bugs were burrowing under my skin, vying to get out.

I had no idea what would happen when my hold broke.

I ran out of the cave. The snow cooled my skin but did nothing to damper the competing powers inside my chest.

Gwyn followed me, her face stark with worry as she ripped herself from Fyrel’s grasp.

“Keera, I’m sorry!” she shouted through the snowfall.

“Stay back!” I turned with my arm stretched out toward her. There was a loud crack. But no lightning shot from the cloudless sky. Instead a golden bolt shot through my hand and hit Gwyn square in the chest.

The itching ceased but I barely noticed.

Time seemed to stretch. Gwyn crumpled to the ground like a feather, lazily falling until she folded onto the burnt snow. Unmoving.

I screamed at the ground, and the trees behind me burst into flames while the forest floor froze to ice. Above me, large storm clouds appeared, whirling in giant circles as I let my magic drain from me. These gifts were not just overwhelming; they were dangerous.

I was dangerous.

I needed to dull myself.

“Is she dead?” I screeched as a towering wall of stone lifted from the earth and fell back onto the flames, smothering them along with the heightened stores of my magic. I fell forward onto my knees, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t look at Gwyn’s lifeless body. I just froze, letting fat tears fall onto my bloodied hands.

Gerarda and Elaran ran to Gwyn, pulling her onto Elaran’s lap. From the sideline of my vision, I saw Elaran press her ear to Gwyn’s chest while Gerarda felt for a pulse along her neck.

“She’s alive, Keera,” Gerarda shouted over the storm that my magic had stoked. Lightning flashed in the clouds and a thunderous boom followed a moment later.

My arms collapsed, and my face smacked into the ground with relief. I pushed myself onto my feet, needing to see Gwyn for myself. I slid across the ice and pulled her body onto my lap.

I cupped her cheek in my hand. “Gwyn, I’m so sorry.” I sobbed. “Gwyn, can you hear me? Let me heal you.”

Her hand lifted to mine and I gasped. Her palms were worn and blistered as they had been before, but now her long fingers were radiating with bright light. She tapped the back of my hand and a thin line carved through the air, like a rock marking glass. It lingered for a moment and then faded into nothing, like leaves blowing away on the wind.

“Gwyn?” I turned to Gerarda and Elaran to make sure they were seeing this too.

Gwyn shifted on my lap, and Elaran stepped back in shock.

I turned and saw that Gwyn was already looking up at me.

Her eyes were no longer blue.

They were amber.

CHAPTERELEVEN

“DON’T MOVE!” The warm flow of my healing magic surged forward as I grasped Gwyn’s hand. Apart from the bruise that was disappearing in front of my eyes, there was nothing wrong with her. She was perfectly healthy—no, vibrant. Gwyn’s body pulsed with a strength I’d never felt in her before. My magic hummed at her touch, the warmth extending down the rest of me.

I blinked. The strength was intoxicating.

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