Page 70 of Flowerheart

Annie raced up to me, clutching at my sleeve. “Please,” she said, her voice choked with tears, “he acted so strange last night, and I couldn’t find him this morning, and now he’s like this...!”

Midsummer. Xavier. Euphoria.

This potion of his, this blight of his, it washerenow. Who’d sold it?

“There must be something you can do,” Annie said, shaking my arm.

Daniel staggered about in the center of the crowd. Papa tried to get his attention, to call his name, to bring him back—but Daniel was gone. Pulled under by the tide of Euphoria.

I thought of Xavier. How hard he was fighting to end this. How he was even willing to take my magic from me so that he could right this wrong.

Their futures were in his hands, now.

“Take him to Master Morwyn,” I told her, my voice thin and quivering. “I—I can’t help.” I spun around and ran home as fast as I could, wind and tears stinging my eyes.

Our little house trembled as Papa slammed the front door shut. The sound of it was so odd. My father didn’t know the meaning of the word “angry.” I hid my head underneath my pillow.

“Clara!” he shouted.

As his footsteps rumbled towards my room, I flicked my hand, willing the door to close—but without my powers, nothing happened.

Papa’s shoes thumped against the floorboards of my bedroom. “Something is wrong, and you need to tell me what it is, right now.”

I lifted my head from my pillow, saw the concern in his eyes, and hated that I had caused him so much anxiety.

“Please,” he said, bending slowly to kneel on the floor in front of me. “I can see it on your face. I only want to help.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” I sat up in the little bed, drawing my pillow to my chest. I chewed my lip to try to help myself speak without being interrupted by sobs. “It’s—it’s my m-m-magic.”

His cheek dimpled with a hopeful smile. “It’s all right if it’s a bit unruly. It’s been through so much. And you were able to help me, weren’t you?” He sighed, shaking his head. “I was wrong to demand that you help that boy—”

“It’s gone,” I blurted, and with that, more tears came.

Papa grabbed my hand between his. “What’s gone, dear? What’s gone?”

“My magic.” I buried my face in my hands. “I gave it to Xavier.”

He said nothing. I listened to my own off-tempo breathing, waiting. He didn’t speak until I looked at him through the gaps between my fingers.

There was a pained crease in the middle of his forehead. He held his hand against his mouth, horrified, and when I saw his eyes glimmering with tears, my stomach dropped.

“I—I don’t understand,” he said. “Is that possible? You...gaveit to him?”

I nodded.

“Why?”

The word, so small and simple, cut at me. I crushed the pillow against my heart.

“He said if he could teach me to make a blessing, if I succeeded... that I could pay him back with my magic. That’s what our vow was for. My magic was so wild, and it had hurt you. I wanted to be rid of it.”

His eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, Clara. You did this for me?”

“You were going to die,” I whispered.

He bowed his head, his hand curling against the top of my quilt. When he looked up, his eyes were bright, hopeful—but shining with tears, still. “You should go to him. Ask for your power back. Demand it back!”

“He needs it.” I pressed myself against the wall and glanced sidelong out the window at the countryside, bright green in the afternoon sunshine. Xavier and I used to chase each other, rolling down hills like that and turning our clothes all green. “He has a chance to prove that he really is a good man. He has an important assignment due for the Council, and I believe he can finish it before tomorrow, with the help of my magic.”

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