Page 78 of Flowerheart

I strode past him and knelt before Xavier’s seat.

His wrists and ankles were clamped tight to the chair with iron manacles. He was missing a shoe, and leaves fluttered from his right pant leg into a little pile beside his socked foot. Xavier’s white shirt was torn along the arms, where long thorns had burst through his pale skin. New bruises bloomed around his eyes and along his left cheek, deep purple and black. Blood had left a dark trail beneath his nose. Large red tulips were nestled within his long, black hair.Red tulips—for true love.

For a moment, his eyes shone like stars, and a small, relieved smile flickered upon his lips. “Clara,” he whispered—and then his head whipped to the side, slamming against the wooden chair. When he looked at me again, his irises were matte black. “Monster,” he growled in a different voice entirely. “Fool!”

I knew this voice all too well.

“You gave me away,” my magic spat: an accusation. “You were never strong enough!”

Xavier opened his mouth to speak again, then suddenly clamped his jaw shut. He wrenched his eyes closed and curled up his fists. Gasping for air, Xavier whispered, “I’m sorry, I can’t...” Blood stained his teeth. He’d bitten histongue trying to silence my magic.

I reached out to him, touching his hand, but immediately drew back at the sharp, searing pain. My fingertips were scalded, like I’d passed them through a flame. Xavier—no, the magic taking hold of him—twisted his mouth in a satisfied grin.

Madam Ben Ammar gripped my arm, her brow furrowed with concern. “Miss Lucas, stand back—there’s no telling what your magic will do, even with our bonds in place.”

“It could hurthim, too,” I said, prying myself out of her grasp. “This is my magic. I’m responsible for it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but to my right, my magic spoke again in its low, whispering tones.

“Yes,” it hissed. “This is between the two of us.”

Xavier’s forefinger flicked out, and at once, a long green vine shot up from the floor and snaked around my wrist, chaining me in place. I staggered and pulled on the vine, but it was as thick as a braided rope. The manacles around Xavier’s wrists and ankles glowed bright white for just a second, and Xavier—or the magic inside of him—hissed at the pain.

“Clara!”

I looked over my shoulder to where Madam Ben Ammar was—to where shehadbeen, along with the other Councilmembers—but more dark, spiky vines had sprouted from the fissure in the marble. They grew fast and tall, creating a thorny wall that blocked off Xavier and me from the other, elder wizards.

The barrier rose as high as Madam Ben Ammar’s shoulders. She reached out to me through the mass of thorns but cried out in pain.

“Don’t!” I called, tugging at the vine with my free hand. “I’ll get to you as soon as I can!”

The brambles surged up to the ceiling like the bars of a cage, completely obscuring the other magicians from my view.

I heard Madam Ben Ammar grunt, and a flare of bright light glowed from behind the tangle of thorns. The vines began to catch fire, and smoke rose into the air in thin ribbons. I grinned with pride, but from behind me, my magic gave a dramatic sigh.

“Must we?” it said.

Then, once more, it flicked Xavier’s finger, this time towards the domed ceiling. From nowhere, black clouds gathered. Buckets of rain poured down, dousing the fire. The breach in the vines that Madam Ben Ammar had created was mended at once with more thorns, even larger than before. Blood-red roses began to bloom among the brambles, as large as wagon wheels.

Xavier cried out again as the manacles flared with bright light, stinging him once more.

“Stop!” I shouted. “You’re hurting him!”

I clawed uselessly at the vine around my wrist. Xavier’s face contorted in a strange, wrong smile as he watched my efforts. Seeing my magic twist him to its will, as it had triedfor so long to bend me, I became filled with hot anger. I pulled harder on the vine. “Magic, let him go; you have no right to do this to him!”

Xavier’s chin lifted defiantly. His head bent to the side, and he leaned over the arm of the chair, opened his mouth, and spat up scarlet yarrow branches. After a moment of coughing, he sat tall again, his night-dark eyes upon me.

“I have every right to,” it said. “You were too weak for me. You gave up. You surrendered me to him.” Its eyes narrowed and its lips curled at the edges. “And this is what he wanted, too. I can read his heart. He only wanted this power. He never wanted you. You are a fool. Trusting others recklessly, wanting so desperately to be loved that you would even give away your own magic! And now look at you.” Its eyes gleamed. “You still want me. You know you’re nothing without me.”

“I’m here because I love him!” I snapped, so loud and so fierce that even my magic leaned back. “That is not weakness.”

“Your love is misplaced.”

“Clara!” I heard Madam Ben Ammar cry again over the roaring rain. “Clara, are you all right?!”

The chamber lit up with a bright flash of lightning, making the whole room shake. I stumbled and grabbed onto the chair for support.

My magic chuckled in satisfaction, even when the manacles flashed back to life. “The Council wants to punishXavier, and for good reason. He’s a coward, just like you.”

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