Page 82 of Flowerheart

I nodded, pressing my trembling hands to my heart. Xavier’s chest rose and fell in an almost exaggerated way. A drop of blood dribbled from his nose, and my heart ached. Even with his power painfully confined, and the pain of the ironshe wore, he’d managed to perform ablessing.For me.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, my voice thick with tears.

Despite his exhaustion, the blood and the bruises, he smiled. “Of course I did.”

The other magicians circled around us. My breath caught in my lungs.

You’re to blame for him being in this state,said my power, but its words didn’t matter. I clutched Madam Ben Ammar’s sleeve.

“Please,” I whispered, “is there nothing we can do to stop this?”

“The time for that has passed,” she replied, her hand light on the space between my shoulders. “But I know what it means for him to have been able to bless you so.”

Something fluttered in my stomach, sweeter and kinder than magic. I recalled what Xavier had taught me about blessings.

The caster needed to feel pure, true love for the person they blessed.

I blushed.

Madam Ben Ammar lowered her head to look me in the eyes. “He has a debt to pay, Clara.”

Xavier leaned his head against the back of the chair, his eyes shut, and I thought,He so dearly needs rest.

“It’s all right,” said Xavier, his tired eyes upon me. “If youcan endure your magic, surely I can endure this.”

He still wished to comfort me—as ifIwere the one about to be punished.

I bit my lip. “Will it hurt him?”

“No, dear.”

She laid a hand against his arm. The red-haired witch touched his shoulder. Master O’Brian touched his hand; each magician had a hand placed on him. Standing around the chair in a circle, I could no longer see an inch of him, and this alone was enough for my stomach to twist inside of me. I pressed my hand hard against my trembling heart.

They spoke in one voice, all different tones, but each syllable spoken in unison: “Xavier Morwyn, you have broken your vows against our Most Esteemed Council. Therefore, you forfeit the gift of your ancestors, your magic. You forfeit your title. You may no longer be called ‘Wizard.’ We sever you from your power and from your title, forever.”

There was no fanfare, no crashing of thunder, no bright light. The crowd of magicians stepped back, and the bonds around Xavier’s wrists and ankles unclasped with aclick. His arms shook as he lifted himself from the chair.

I pushed aside the blond wizard blocking my path to Xavier, and I swiftly draped his arm over my shoulder to support him. His head drooped atop mine.

“Miss Lucas,” said a wizard wearing glasses, “we shall see you tomorrow for the ceremony.”

I did not acknowledge any of them as I pulled Xavier along, my arm fast around his middle. The blood on his arm dripped against the bright pink of my dress. At the end of the rectangular chamber was a set of double doors.

“I’m going to make us a portal,” I whispered to him. “With any luck, we won’t land too far from your house.”

“You’ll do wonderfully,” he breathed. “As long as we don’t end up in a void, you can take me wherever you’d like.”

When I glanced at him, he was grinning down at me.

“You’re ridiculous.” Looking at him, earnest and adoring, I agreed with the skipping of my heart.

You love him,said my magic. An accusation. A fact.

Yes,I thought.I really do.

Before us was the same door that had once been a portal into my sitting room, for a long-ago visit. It had a large, golden doorknob with a sun carved in the middle, like those magicians wore. I held it so tight I imagined it branding the symbol into my palm. With Xavier still pressed to my side, I touched my forehead to the door and shut my eyes.

Magic was emotion. For me, too much. But I was strong; strong enough to withstand even the wildest of my own moods. I felt a thousand things, even then. Warm, bubbly delight as his hip pressed up against mine. Sorrow, having seen him in such a state, knowing that the magic he adored was no longer inside him. Anger at the Council for bringing so harsh a punishment upon him. Regret for not helpingmore, for not being able to.

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