Braving the Elements(15)

“If you do not stop this right now, I will be forced to stop you.” Stefan had his sword up. The tattoos on his arms glowed that burnished gold.
It felt as if something scrabbled through my chest. He searched for the link. He could use it to smother my magic. And he would. He could control all of this. He knew how to work the elements just so, how to build—whatever Master Bert had said—and hone…that other thing. He operated with calm and level-headed knowledge.
I operated by the seat of my pants. I’d been lucky so far. My butt tingle told me it was about to end.
A wildness crept into me, something primal and fierce. I moved like a rabid animal from a net. Pointing my sword at the door, I blasted a hole through the handle, turning my blade back to white; I didn’t have much stamina—magic required energy to use and sustain. Like a runner, you had to work at endurance. I hadn’t been at this for long.
Charles stood his ground with the grim faced courage he was known for throughout the clan. I darted at him, slapping my hand against his arm, and electrifying it as I did so. He flew sideways as if from an explosion.
A quick glance told me Stefan had started running, seeing that my escape attempt would work.
“Sasha, please, don’t!” he shouted.
Too late.
Already weakening, I ran like the devil was chasing me, lighting through the hallways, rooms, and corridors, letting my inner compass guide me. It had never led me astray, even before all this magic mumbo-jumbo, and I trusted it now.
I burst out of the doors into the bright sunlight, my vision a cloud of white while my pupils tried to contract. I stumbled, hitting a tree and falling to my knees. Up a second later, shouting sounding off behind me, I started to run, no destination in mind.
 

Chapter 3
Stefan exploded into the sunlight and immediately had to shield his eyes, the rays like daggers stabbing into the back of his skull. Someone handed him sunglasses. He straightened up slowly, still squinting, working at that damn link. She shouldn’t have been able to disguise it. That wasn’t how it worked.
“Which direction, Boss?” Charles asked, stepping to his side. His voice held traces of worry. He’d grown attached.
Stefan shook his head, scanning the tree line. “Woods, but I have no idea where. I can’t…” He shook his head again.
“What does a black blade mean? I haven’t heard of black. Is it between white and gold?”
“It’s a step beyond white.”
“Couldn’t be.” Jameson stepped to Stefan’s other side. He didn’t care about the human—about Sasha—but he had figured out Stefan’s claim on her, the soft mark, and knew she was important in some way. For that alone, Jameson would rally. He was a solid choice as Second.
“That’s a myth,” Jameson stated.
“You were in that room,” Stefan said simply, working at that damn link. When her power faltered, he’d uncover it. He’d find her. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.
“Theatrics?” Jameson walked forward, eyes low on a tree trunk.
“She’d just picked that blade off the wall at random,” Charles said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t theatrics. She’s been doing weird things. Weird magic. Bert is flabbergasted. James probably is, too, though he only saw it for a second. She took that pet stuff very…badly.”
Charles, the fucking master observer.
“I can track her.” Jameson slowly walked to the tree line. “She didn’t take it easy. Her footprints are messy.”
“Do it!”
“If she has black magic, she could turn the war…” Jameson let the thought trail away.
“She’s completely untrained.” Stefan’s eyes searched the ground behind Jameson, finding a shoe print. “She was the one who disbanded all the Dulca in the battle, I’m sure of it. They react to her, are drawn to her magic. They speak to her in a language she can understand.”
Jameson straightened and looked back at him, his face clouding with uncertainty. It was Charles who responded to the silent accusation.
“She isn’t working for Trek. She’s barely working for herself, and she has a vested interest in staying alive. She learns incredibly fast with hands-on, but try to explain something to her and at the end of your sermon, she’ll still be looking at a flower instead of you, completely oblivious. She isn’t a spy. Definitely is not a spy.”
“How can you be sure? Spies are deceptive…”
Charles laughed. “Yeah, she’s deceptive, all right. You’ll think she’ll say or do one thing, then she does something else entirely, not even knowing why herself. No, spend any amount of time with her. That chick ain’t no spy!”