Spring Rain (19 page)

She guided her fire with her mind, racing
after the snakelike tendrils of Darkness that were fused to his
core. Fused, yet vulnerable to fire as hot as hers. She envisioned
the white tips traveling down the purple until her fire was nothing
except white light. The flames refused to obey, and she cursed her
inability to control the magick.

Noah went limp, his form boiling and his
magick vanquished without his consciousness to control it.

Concerned, Morgan forced more energy into
him to speed up the process as much as possible. The purple flames
turned black, scaring her. They became tipped with rainbow colors
as they chased and twisted after the Darkness that was trying not
to be burned with the rest of Noah.

Finally, the flames exploded into pure white
that blinded her.

The water witchling was growing charred on
the outside, raw on the inside as she chased down the last tendrils
of Darkness.

When it was gone, she released the magick
and leaned back with a gasp, panting and dizzy from the amount of
effort it took. The white fire blazed into the sky and zipped back
towards the school, fading from her sight.

Noah’s body glowed with mini-white flames.
He was alive – barely – and the sight of his burnt, unrecognizable
features made her panic. She snatched her cell and hit the send
button on the text, knowing Beck was going to freak out as much as
she was when he read it.

Morgan touched Noah’s melted skin, releasing
a flare of fire magick into him.

His water was present, along with the
faintest signs of life.

The Dark, however, was gone.

“Elsa,” she murmured. A flare of happiness
leapt into her, along with horror as her adrenaline began to fade
and she took in Noah’s fire-ravished form. Hysterics spread through
her as she realized what exactly she had done. Had she saved him?
Or just tortured him to death?

She began to cry, to laugh, to sob, and bent
over, holding her stomach.

“What the …” Beck’s voice reached her before
she registered the warmth of his magick and the coolness of the
fog. “Morgan, what did you do?”

The beautiful fire witchling couldn’t
respond. She wept and giggled, shaking hard enough he assumed she’d
either been injured or had fallen completely into madness.

But it was the body before her that held his
attention. The scent nauseated him, and all he could determine from
the frame of the person on the ground was that it probably belonged
to a male by its height. His features were gone, melted like a doll
left on a stove.

He knelt and placed a hand on the body,
immediately summoning his healing powers. “Morgan, what have you
done?” he whispered again. Everything he had learned thus far about
Morgan needing to turn Light to help him and the Light beat against
his thoughts harder than his heart did his chest. Beck wasn’t able
to move, frozen by the idea he was witnessing the act that not only
condemned her, but the Light as well.

And for what? Why? What
the hell had she done? Didn’t she understand the importance
of
trying
to
become Light, so they could be together if nothing else?

Or … had something happened? Had she acted
out of self-defense?

Please let it be self defense.

“Heal … him …” she gasped out.

His concern for her took a backseat to his
duty, and he focused on channeling his earth magick and Light into
the man.

What remained of the man’s skin was stuck to
his hands, and Beck resisted the urge to bend over and vomit
everything he’d eaten in the past ten years. He glanced at Morgan,
who was struggling to compose herself, beginning to wonder if he
had been wrong about her all along, that the goodness he saw in her
was his own hope and didn’t really exist. He had made that mistake
with Dawn.

No. Not my Morgan.
The doubt fled despite the evidence before him.
Whatever happened, there was an explanation, and it was one that
would exonerate Morgan.

He was healing faster than ever before, but
he still feared losing the life depending on him. He had faced down
the Dark Witchlings while standing on the Light source. Was his
magic stronger there?

Morgan was starting to cry.

“It’s okay, Morgan. I promise. I’m a little
… worried,” he whispered. “He might heal faster if I’m at the Light
source. I’m going to take him there and I’ll be back for you.
Okay?”

She didn’t respond.

Beck touched the man before him once more
and ordered his fog to sweep them away.

Seconds later, it cleared, and they were
back at the school, him and the mushy, charred remains of whomever
Morgan had burnt to a crisp. He trusted the magick to take him
where he wanted, and they’d been dropped off in the Square, the
courtyard area surrounded on three sides by school buildings where
the witchlings often had class, picnics and bonfires.

Beck summoned Light and earth magick
instinctively and bottled it until he was burning up from the
inside before thrusting it into the form beneath his hands. He
closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, wanting to purge
his nose of the smell that left him gagging. The earth rumbled
beneath them, its low whisper turning to a thunderous groan. Beck
didn’t stop the body from pulling at his magick, instead making
every ounce of himself and his Light available to it.

He watched in his mind as muscles repaired
themselves and skin grew and stretched over the man. He didn’t care
who it was at the moment; he only wanted to prevent Morgan from
becoming a murderer, from being sentenced to the Dark or worse, to
discover Decker was coming to kill her.

Sweat dripped down his face, and he drew off
more magick than he ever had before. At last, Beck sat back on his
heels, breathing hard and terrified it wasn’t enough to save Morgan
let alone the man before him.

The naked form before him was mostly
repaired. There was scarring in places, some of which was
disappearing as his magick continued working on him while others
appeared to be permanent. All the hair was gone from his body along
with one toe. With some disappointment, Beck realized neither was
something he could fix.

“Noah,” Beck breathed,
surprised. Of all the people Morgan might enflame, Noah wasn’t on
the list.
Unless something
happened.
He checked Noah’s vitals and
pulled off his sweater to cover his naked groin. “Hey.” He nudged
the water witchling. “Wake up, Noah.”

The boy took a wheezing breath and opened
lashless-eyes. He stared at the night sky before lifting his healed
arms to stare at them in disbelief.

“You did it,” he said in a rough voice.

“Kept you alive?” Beck sat back, relieved
and irritated, wanting to face Morgan but almost afraid to discover
she had gone Dark.

“Where am I?”

“The school.” Beck wiped his face, his
tension replaced by exhaustion as he realized Noah was going to
live. He motioned to the schoolhouse a few feet away.

“What?” Noah sat up.

“School.” Beck repeated. “What the hell is
going on?”

Noah looked around as if he’d never been
there before.

“Please don’t tell me I scrambled your
brain,” Beck muttered. “Noah! What happened? Why did Morgan burn
you to a crisp? Did you do something to her?”

Noah reached up to feel his face and rubbed
his bald head. To Beck’s surprise, Noah laughed.

“Don’t you get it, Beck?” Noah twisted to
face him with a smile.

“Absolutely not. I have no clue what’s going
on, unless she fried your brain or that’s where your other toe
ended up.”

“I’m a Dark witchling and I’m on
campus.”

Beck’s breath caught. Had he inadvertently
broken the shield by bringing Noah here? He pressed his hands to
the ground and frantically sought an answer from the Light
source.

It sent him an image of the barriers being
up. Puzzled, he asked again.

“It’s not possible,” he said. “What is going
on?”

“What’s going on is I need pants.” Noah was
staring at the sweater covering his groin. “Pants and I swear I’ll
tell you everything.”

Beck had the sinking feeling he either
hadn’t woken up yet or the entire world had turned surreal. He
resisted the urge to slam Noah into the ground the way he might
Decker and demand answers. The kid had gone through enough, and by
the glow in his eyes, he had something to say Beck wanted to
hear.

Beck trotted to the dorm room he used to
share with Decker on campus and retrieved clothing for Noah.
Returning, he tossed it to him and laced his arms across his test.
“Talk, Noah.”

“Morgan called me with this crazy plan.”
Noah replied, his words muffled as he pulled on a t-shirt. “She
said her ancestor once burned the Dark out of a man to turn him
Light.” He stood and paused to pull on sweats.

“Did what now?” Beck asked, frowning. “I’ve
never heard of that.”

“Me neither. Who knows for sure. Anyway, she
wanted to know if I’d be game as her … test subject.”

Beck’s mouth dropped open.

“It was for a good cause,” Noah rushed on.
“To save Dawn’s life and her baby’s. We thought if she wasn’t Dark
then Bartholomew couldn’t keep his hold on her. Of course I said
yes. And …” He drifted off. “And other reasons. But that was the
main one. All I had to do was agree to let her set me on fire.”

“Do you have any idea how insane that
sounds?” Beck almost yelled. In all his years, he’d been on the
receiving end of such a question, but never met anyone crazy enough
that he thought he’d be asking it. “You let her set you on fire?
You let her risk going Dark and your own life for something as ape
shit crazy as this?”

Noah reddened and then smiled. “Beck, I’m
standing on campus.”

“I don’t give a shit where you’re standing,
Noah!” Beck snapped, the Master side of him as riled up as the side
that loved Morgan. “You have no idea … whatever the hell she’s
doing, I’ve got to stop it!” He whirled, incensed with the urge to
save Morgan from herself.

“Beck!” Noah snatched his arm.

Beck yanked away, and Noah wobbled.
Realizing how weak Noah was after his ordeal, Beck steadied him,
reigning in the side of him that was sobbing internally over losing
Morgan to the Darkness.

“I’m. On. Campus.”

Beck stared at Noah, his meaning finally
clicking. No Dark witchling could be on campus which meant … “No.
It’s not possible.”

“Look. Into me.” Noah took his wrist and
placed his hand on his head. “However it is you check people for
Light or Dark.”

Beck didn’t need to release his magick into
Noah. He stilled his emotions the best he could so he could get a
read on Noah. The Master side of him could track Light witchlings
and right now, Noah was reading as Light. “It’s not possible,” he
repeated, his concern deepening. “It’s … Noah … this can’t … my
god. I need to talk to someone. Stay on campus. You can take my
room. In fact, don’t go anywhere in case you end up exploding or
something.” He hurriedly handed Noah his keys and pointed towards
his room before spinning away and sprinting towards the forest.

Trees cleared a path for
him. He ran blindly, unable to comprehend that Morgan had torched
someone for the purpose of turning him from Dark to Light – and
that she had succeeded. Sam had told him she could purify Darkness,
but like
this
?
What possessed her to try it knowing how delicate her situation was
teetering on the edge of the Dark?

“Sam, I really need you!” Needing to let off
steam, Beck ran until he was breathless and his legs were heavy. He
stopped then, not caring where he was. Sam was capable of finding
him anywhere, and his magick could transport him to whatever his
next destination was. One of the trees nudged him, and he pushed
back gently, in no mood to play or talk to its whispering spirit.
“Not now,” he whispered to it. “Sam!” he cried and threw his head
back to the rainy sky.

Several moments later, he
heard the sound of wet branches scraping tree roots and rocks and
turned to face the wet forest yeti.
It is
rainy and cold,
Sam complained with a
chortle.
What disturbs you, young
Master?

“Morgan.” Beck’s mind was racing too hard
for him to form the words. He took a moment to nail down his
thoughts. “She turned a Dark witchling Light by frying him nearly
to death. Tell me … tell me she didn’t do this at the cost of her
own soul!”

This is what concerns you
most? Her soul? Not the feat she performed that has not been
performed since Tranin?
Sam was amused. He
perched on a tree stump.

Earth warmth calmed him, and Beck wiped the
rain off his face. “I can’t begin to think it’s possible.”

It is not impossible.

“Meaning …”

Meaning no Master or Mistress of Light has
had a Fire witchling counterbalance in five hundred years and
before that, it was over a thousand. She is rare, and so is her
power.

“So it’s not just turning Darkness to Light
in general … she can specifically turn someone Light.”

With some restrictions. The deeper into
Darkness the person is, the harder it can be and the less likely
they will survive the transition. They must survive, Beck, or what
she does will pull her into the Dark.

The words scared him. Morgan couldn’t know
how close she’d come to going Dark. “She toasted this guy,” Beck
agreed. “And I don’t think he was anything near what Dawn is.”

It pleases me to know Morgan did it. She is
what you need.

“She almost killed him, Sam! I mean, I know
he volunteered, but what on earth were they thinking?”