Page 81 of Flowerheart

My heart leapt into my throat. I gaped down at him. “Really?”

You don’t deserve this honor. You and he are both wicked,whispered my magic, writhing in my chest, creeping up my throat, making me want to vomit. I held fast to Xavier’s hand like an anchor. The voice was a liar.

Madam Ben Ammar stepped forwards, her long black skirts sweeping across the marble.

“I second the motion to inaugurate Miss Lucas,” she said. My heart skipped at the sound of her voice and the pride in her eyes. “She has proven herself a fierce advocate of all the Council stands for, and she has fought hard to learn and to train her power. She even successfully performed a blessing, something many trained magicians cannot accomplish. Any fears the Council once had about the volatility of her magic should be laid to rest. We know the control that she exhibits. We would consider ourselves lucky to call her Madam Lucas.”

After years of failure, after wrestling and losing against my magic, I would finally,finallybe a witch. But my joy was short-lived: as Xavier beamed at me, only pride in his tired, bruised eyes, my stomach twinged. He would be powerless.

“It’s not fair,” I whispered to him.

“It’s more than fair. You’ve worked for years to earn this,” he said. “You will do greater things than I could have everdreamed. You will help so many people, I know it.”

There was still much work to do. I looked back to the vast group of Councilmembers, raising my voice, though there was a quiver in it: “What will be done about the Euphoria patients? What will be done for them next—for their melancholy?”

Master O’Brian frowned. “You know the opinion of the Council on such matters. We do not interfere with issues of the heart. If you cannot abide by that, you cannot practice magic.”

The words stung—the thought that I could lose everything, lose my dream, because I wanted to help people. Wasn’t that what magicians were supposed to do? Heal those who were suffering?

My mother would have agreed with that. My mother would have told me to do as she did; to leave the Council and their rules behind.

Xavier’s thumb swept against my hand, and once again, I remembered where I was. What mattered. The fondness and the pride glittering in his eyes.

“It’s clear that Miss Lucas has great compassion for her patients,” said Madam Ben Ammar, looking me in the eyes, her gaze unwavering.Listen close,she seemed to say.This matter is not finished.“Will you then obey the rules of the Council, Clara? Will you do whatever it takes to heal those in need, and never use magic with ill intent?”

Whatever it takes.Even if it meant breaking their rules.

“Yes,” I said, leveling her with the same firm gaze.I will not let anyone suffer, no matter the laws.

The other Councilmembers looked at one another and murmured their assent. Master O’Brian nodded. “Very well—tomorrow, at the Midsummer ceremony, Miss Clara Lucas can be made Madam Lucas.”

“That brings us to an important question,” said the silver-haired wizard. “Master Morwyn, once you have lost your title, there will no longer be a magician treating the patients of your jurisdiction—”

“That choice should belong to my parents,” he said. “Please send for them. It’s their shop, after all. And... I have not seen them in a very long time.”

Madam Ben Ammar smiled at him. “I will call on them by maple leaf before the night is done.”

“Thank you.”

She folded her hands in front of her, her lovely, deep brown eyes solemn and sad. “It’s time, young man.”

The Councilmembers tightened their circle around us.

Xavier’s hand pulsed against mine, and our eyes met. Just soft enough for me to hear, but with formidable certainty, he said, “Clara Lucas, may your days be long and safe. May you live long and be safe.”

My brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“May you live long and be safe,” he repeated, louder andlouder. His brow was pursed in concentration. His bloodstained arm trembled, and my hand ached in his grasp. The manacles gleamed with a light so bright it stung my eyes. “May you live long and be safe!”

His voice crescendoed, echoing off the soaring walls of the chamber and thundering in my bones. A shock of electricity zipped up my arm from where he touched my hand; I flinched and drew back. Flecks of gold shimmered against the skin of my palm. My pulse hammered in my ear, and I was aware of my every breath: calm and beautiful and clear. I was alive, I was thriving, and something new was coursing in me, golden and bright.

Xavier drooped in his chair, red-faced and panting, his long hair stuck to his forehead.

The blond wizard marched towards Xavier. I shielded him with my arm.

“What did he just do?” demanded the wizard.

Madam Ben Ammar’s heels clicked against the marble, her black skirt fluttering like a butterfly’s wing with each confident step. “He blessed her,” she said, her eyes wide. “A very noble way to use one’s magic for the last time, I suppose.” She touched my shoulder. “Do you feel all right, dear?”

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