Page 81 of The Spark that Ignites
“If anything were to happen to her, I would never forgive you. So, I suggest you watch your tongue.” He glanced down at the jar clutched in Emmery’s hands. “Let me know if you need more balm for Aera. Otherwise, I’ll see you for training.”
Oh, so hehadagreed to training with her. But clearly it was purely a favour to Briar and there was no desire to spend time with her. That was bound to be a joy.
Without another word he strode from the room, leaving Emmery staring after him in shock.
“ONCE MORE,” BRIAR ORDEREDfrom across the training room.
It was still early morning, but Briar looked as if she had been up before dawn getting ready. Her waved navy hair was flawlessly pulled high on her head, her red tipped fingers tapping on her arm as she waited. Emmery’s heart pounded, her fingers sparking.
They had been at this for hours and Emmery had nearly set the entire training room aflame a dozen times. It had been the same the two previous days too. Each time her flame surged like an untamed beast and Briar’s flinch was evident even from across the room. Emmery studied Briar’s burns when she wasn’t looking, not sure if she should ask if it was too much for her to be close to unruly fire. Surely, she held trauma from what happened to her.
Holding out her hand, the sparks ignited at Emmery’s fingertips, golden flames lapping hungrily up her hand. The sight of the fire struck old fear into her. It still felt wrong to release it. The heat grazed her cheeks, the flame’s wildness saturating the air.
Briar’s lips parted as she watched her carefully. “Slow, Emmy. Pull it back.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fist, attempting to smother them, but they flared, climbing her arms to her shoulders. Emmery whimpered, trembling in fear. Once she released them, they had a mind of their own and she had thrown open the gates.
“I—I can’t put it out,” Emmery cried, the flames clasping her neck in a chokehold, her pounding heart only fanning them. “I can’t—”
But if she didn’t get under control, she could hurt Briar and Emmery wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.
Her heart rose in her throat.
Briar narrowed the distance, close enough for Emmery’s worry to increase, but far enough that Briar should be safe.Should.
“Look at me,” she ordered.
Tears gathered in Emmery’s eyes. Her sleeves and shirt were burned, the tunic barely holding onto her frame. Emmery stifled the cry bubbling up and met Briar’s calm, scarlet eyes.
“Breathe. Exhale it out.” Briar held her stare as a ragged breath jittered out Emmery’s nose and gestured for her to keep going, slowly in and out. The flames retreated with her pulse, slinking down her arms to her elbows then her hands, where they lapped playfully, all aggression gone. Was it the fear that fed it?
“Hold it there,” Briar said. “Focus on holding it in your palm. Like your fingers are the bars of the cage. Let it only flowupfrom your hand. Not out.”
Emmery obeyed, cupping the flame in her hand, the golden waves reflecting in her eyes as she stared at her power. And this time ... it worked. The magic flowed—a brilliant, wild force.
Briar stepped closer. “It’s yours. Control it. Tame it. The gods gave you this for a reason.”
Emmery snapped her fist closed and the flame died. Releasing a relieved sigh she didn’t celebrate yet even though it was the first time.
There was too much work to do.
Whether it was the hours of training or her surprising victory, a wave of dizziness claimed her.
“Good. Keep practicing. Feel it in your blood. In your bones.” Briar placed Emmery’s fist over her heart. “The magic is in here. Don’t fear it. It’s a part of you now.” Briar held her gaze butdropped her hold on Emmery’s fist and offered a cocky smirk. “Say it.”
“It’s ... mine.” Taking a shaky breath, Emmery said, “Part of me. I won’t let it own me.”
She wasn’t sure she believed her own words as she said them.
But gods, she wanted to.
Briar stepped back. “Now, do it again.”
Chapter Thirty
Emmery came to despise everything about the training room—the bland white walls, the scent of sweat and metal, and the practice dummies mocking her. Maybe it was the unending battle with her magic or struggle with weaponry, but the days blended.
Each morning she trained with Briar until she was panting and shaky, then sessions with Callias which resembled inhumane torture more than instruction. Occasionally she found some free time to tuck away in a book, but these were sparing. And after one night she grossly overindulged, she had to quit drinking too. That next morning her pounding head and roiling stomach prevented her from producing even a spark and Briar sang unbearably high at the top of her lungs to ensure she wouldn’t do it again. But thankfully, most nights Emmery fell into bed so tired the nightmares stayed at bay. At least for now.
