Page 12 of Flowerheart

The severity had vanished from his face. When he met my eyes again, I felt like we were children again. Equal.

“If it were possible,” he murmured, “if you could give your power to another person—wouldyou?”

A chill danced up my back. Magic was a gift that appeared to so few. To trade away such a gift was foolish, washeartbreaking.... But for Papa, I could bear such things. “If you taught me to bless my father, then yes, I would.”

He touched his fingertips to his mouth. His thumb, I noticed, had a black band inked around it.

“You made a vow to someone,” I noted.

It was a practice used between magicians when striking certain bargains. Some of my teachers bore black rings on their fingers; promises to coworkers, to the Council. Master and Madam Morwyn had them in place of wedding bands. When we were younger, Xavier and I used to make pretend vows. We’d clasp hands like we had seen magicians do, and promise to be friends forever, or to always share our secrets with each other. We’d mark our fingers with little bands of ink.

But we weren’t children anymore.

“What was it for?” I asked.

He hid his hands beneath the tabletop. “It was for the Council. And it’s a vow I propose to you. If you truly meant it, if you truly wanted to, you could give your power to me.”

I shivered. To make a true vow, as two grown magicians—it felt strange. Our childhood game, made more serious than I could have ever fathomed.

I didn’t understand why he would want my volatile power. But if this was the payment he’d take in exchange for his help, I would not question his reasons.

“You’ll teach me to bless Papa,” I said, “and then once he’s well, I’ll pay you—with my magic?”

“Precisely.”

I could imagine Papa pleading with me not to give up my gift, my future. But a future without my father was bleak and empty. And a futurewithmy magic would be fraught with trouble. Besides, after what my magic had done, the Council would surely forgo offering me the “mercy” of the binding spell and take my power away from me altogether.

“I agree to it,” I said. I reached a hand towards him.

“You’ll need to take your glove off, Miss Lucas. For the vow.”

I drew my hand to my chest. My throat tightened. “When my skin touched Papa’s, it burned him. What if it does the same to you?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure you mean me no harm.”

“I didn’t mean to harm Papa, either,” I muttered.

He grimaced. “Then we will say the vow quickly.”

I squeezed the stiff gloves into fists.

“Don’t fret,” he said. “I’ve got some extra salve in my potion case, if you were to really hurt me. And if you do, I won’t blame you for it.”

Finger by finger, I pulled off my right gardening glove. I slipped my hand into his hold as gently as possible, like it would soften the blow, but the moment our skin touched, he gasped.

I leapt back. “I told you!”

He shook his hand like it’d been held over a stove. “It’s so curious,” he murmured. “Your magic doesn’t obey your own heart.”

“Curious?” I spat. “It’s maddening.”

Xavier reached for my hand again, our eyes aligning. There was the faintest stripe of pink along his palm where I’d touched him. “I’ll help you. We’ll get your magic sorted out. And after your father’s been healed, your power will burden you no longer.”

My magic curled up inside me. It hated being called a burden.

That’s what you are,I told it. Over the years, it had only become more fitful. Spells had been difficult the first few months of having my power; then they’d grown wild,unruly, and too strong. Now my magic was dangerous, pure and simple. Perhaps when wielded by someone else, it would be more manageable.

Still, jealousy and disappointment ate at me like parasites. Xavier was only a month older than I was. And though we’d gotten the same magical education, he’d graduated a whole year early. Been inducted to the Council almost instantly. Succeeded in every way I failed.

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