If the mountain won't come to Muhammad . . .
As soon as the idea formed in my head, I knew it was the right one, even if it freaked me out more than a little. I almost shuddered at the thought of that horrible magic inside me again, but it made sense to try to pull it into me where I could fight it with my power. If it was even possible to draw it out of Desmund. I had no idea how the magic would behave if it had access to another host, and confronting it wouldn’t be the same as battling a Hale witch because there was no sentient presence to fight against. This magic had lived inside Desmund for a very long time, saturating every cell like a cancer. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe I could eradicate it as easily as I’d defeated the Hale witch, but maybe I could weaken it a little and ease some of Desmund’s suffering. There’s only one way to find out.
I tried to steel myself for what was to come, but I knew it would not be enough. Even though I had told Tristan I wasn’t afraid of Hale witches, I still abhorred their magic, and I already felt unclean just being near it. I pushed my power toward Desmund just enough to touch the swirling coldness inside him, and instead of putting up a barrier to protect me, I opened myself to the magic, calling it to me. It did not take long for the dark magic to begin moving toward a new potential host. I had to force myself not to jerk away and to clamp my lips together so I did not cry out when it trickled from Desmund into me like a cold slimy sludge. My heart sped up and sweat broke out on my upper lip as the magic invaded my body. It took every ounce of my strength to keep my power back except for the small tendril that lured the foul magic into me. Nausea twisted my stomach until I knew I was going to throw up if I endured it for one second longer.
My body trembled as I closed the connection between me and Desmund and pulled back until an inch separated us. I fought the urge to retch and opened my power, letting it sweep through me like a cleansing fire. There was no scream like the time I fought the witch, and the magic didn’t even fight as my power burned it away to nothing. My power receded leaving me only slightly nauseous, which all things considered, was a vast improvement over how I felt a moment ago.
Desmund finished the piece with a flourish and smiled at me. I had not been able to take all the magic from him, but it had to have helped him a little. Was I imagining it, or did he look more relaxed than he had when I arrived?
“That was pretty,” I said, searching his handsome face for any changes. He did look a little happier, but that could just be the joy he got from his music.
“Pretty? You don’t call Schubert pretty.” He sighed in mock aggravation. “I see I have my work cut out with you, little one.”
His playful words made hope spark inside me. The Desmund from a few days ago would have scowled at me and even showed disdain over my ignorance. Was it possible that I really had lessened his pain?
“You keep playing like that and you will spoil me for other music.” I touched the cool keys, still amazed that he could draw such incredible notes from them.
“Would you like to learn to play? I can teach you.”
I laughed, touched by his offer. “God, no. I tried to play the flute back in elementary school before I discovered I’m tone deaf. I’d much rather spend the time listening to you play.”
“As you wish.” His eyes sparkled with pleasure, and he began to play another piece. We spent the next hour like that, with him playing and me listening. There was no need for conversation, and an easy companionship grew between us. For a while I was able to forget my homesickness and my dread of tomorrow.
It took me a few minutes to realize I felt only slightly tired from my healing. Considering the amount of power I had used, I should have felt more drained than I did. It confirmed my suspicions that my elemental power was growing as Aine said it would. I didn’t know what that meant for me, but if it gave me more healing power, then it couldn’t be a bad thing.
“It is late, you should be in bed,” Desmund said, interrupting my thoughts. “Tristan will not be pleased with me if I keep you up all night and you fall asleep in training tomorrow.”
I made a face. “Don’t remind me.”
“You don’t like training?”
“Do the words ‘I suck at it’ mean anything to you? And now Tristan has decided to torture me by making me train with Nikolas.”
Desmund smiled. “Ah, Nikolas.”
“Do you know him?”
He chuckled. “Nikolas and I go way back.” His tone told me the two of them were not exactly friends. “Most women would be happy to spend time with him.”
“Not me. He’s always trying to tell me what to do, and I swear he does things just to bug me.” I tapped one of the keys and an angry note resonated. “He acts like I’m totally helpless, and he gets all uptight if there is the slightest hint of danger. Okay, maybe he had reason to worry a month ago, but not since I came here.”