windows. No one.
He tried the door, but it was locked. He went round the back. That door was also locked, and pressing his face to the glass of the back window didn’t show him any signs of life there either. The cottage was dark and empty.
He pushed a hand through his hair. Surely she couldn’t have gone home already? Left under her own steam?
Or was the head injury worse than it seemed—was she wandering outside, hurt or in pain? The memory of his dreamwalk, still fresh in his mind, came back to him, and he ran back to the house.
“She’s gone,” he panted.
“What do you mean?” Tierra raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.
“She’s not in her cottage. I’m worried. Can you track her?”
Tierra nodded, and closed her eyes. He felt the ripple of her earth energy as she connected to the grounds.
After what seemed like forever, Tierra spoke. “She’s in the woods. She’s using Manipura energy.”
“What? Why’s she doing that?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but pelted out of the door into the forest. His heart beat erratically, and his stomach churned. What if she was in trouble? What if the woman in the dreamwalk had been Blaize, now?
The run to the woods took forever, and images played out in his mind as he pounded through the trees. He saw Blaize as she’d looked yesterday, pale-faced and crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. He imagined her now, lying on the floor of the woods, injured and signalling to them with her Manipura energy, trying to get their attention.
How long has she been out here?
***
Blaize missed using her fire energy. She'd woken very early, her body still not adjusted to the new time zone. She had first used the opportunity to place a video call to Nixie in Thailand, for whom it was late in the day. They caught up about Fai and Marius, and then Nixie asked about Cuinn.
"What's he like?"
"He pushed me down the stairs." At Nixie's horrified look, Blaize relented and told her the whole story.
"Hmm. Doesn't sound very promising." Nixie frowned. "What do you think of him?"
Blaize shrugged. "He's annoying."
"Does he have any redeeming features?"
Blaize thought for a moment. "He has a nice enough voice."
"And?" Nixie pressed.
"And he does seem to be dealing with a lot.” Blaize hesitated. She wasn’t sure if the prophecies were common knowledge. She guessed not. “He’s working on a project for the Ajna Guild, which seems important.”
“What kind of person is he?” Nixie was more interested in the person than the project.
“Arrogant. Proud. Works hard.”
Nixie smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Huh. Do we know anyone else like that?”
Blaize scowled. “He’s also conflicted. One minute he doesn’t want me to work with him, the next minute he does.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to help. And I want to learn about Ajna from an expert, which he does seem to be. But I hate the idea that I’m not wanted.” She looked away from Nixie’s picture as she said this last. It burned to admit it.
“He’ll soon see you for who you are,” Nixie said firmly.
“Who’s that then?” said Blaize, amused.
“A confident, competent energetic who’s going to learn fast and be of help in no time.”
Blaize shook her head and laughed, and turned the talk to other things.
The conversation lasted another thirty minutes, and refreshed, Blaize went outside in the cool Canadian morning. She walked into the dense and damp woods, and played with a fire droplet, scattering it into many tiny drops that looked like a burst of fireflies around her head.
She started working—or playing—in earnest.
Strings of light dipped and twisted like thread, creating a fabulous pattern, the lightest and most delicate of lacework in fire in the sky. She played like this for another hour or two, and the day gradually got brighter and her creations more complex. She experimented both with power and delicacy. She revelled in playing with the energy in a way she
He tried the door, but it was locked. He went round the back. That door was also locked, and pressing his face to the glass of the back window didn’t show him any signs of life there either. The cottage was dark and empty.
He pushed a hand through his hair. Surely she couldn’t have gone home already? Left under her own steam?
Or was the head injury worse than it seemed—was she wandering outside, hurt or in pain? The memory of his dreamwalk, still fresh in his mind, came back to him, and he ran back to the house.
“She’s gone,” he panted.
“What do you mean?” Tierra raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.
“She’s not in her cottage. I’m worried. Can you track her?”
Tierra nodded, and closed her eyes. He felt the ripple of her earth energy as she connected to the grounds.
After what seemed like forever, Tierra spoke. “She’s in the woods. She’s using Manipura energy.”
“What? Why’s she doing that?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but pelted out of the door into the forest. His heart beat erratically, and his stomach churned. What if she was in trouble? What if the woman in the dreamwalk had been Blaize, now?
The run to the woods took forever, and images played out in his mind as he pounded through the trees. He saw Blaize as she’d looked yesterday, pale-faced and crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. He imagined her now, lying on the floor of the woods, injured and signalling to them with her Manipura energy, trying to get their attention.
How long has she been out here?
***
Blaize missed using her fire energy. She'd woken very early, her body still not adjusted to the new time zone. She had first used the opportunity to place a video call to Nixie in Thailand, for whom it was late in the day. They caught up about Fai and Marius, and then Nixie asked about Cuinn.
"What's he like?"
"He pushed me down the stairs." At Nixie's horrified look, Blaize relented and told her the whole story.
"Hmm. Doesn't sound very promising." Nixie frowned. "What do you think of him?"
Blaize shrugged. "He's annoying."
"Does he have any redeeming features?"
Blaize thought for a moment. "He has a nice enough voice."
"And?" Nixie pressed.
"And he does seem to be dealing with a lot.” Blaize hesitated. She wasn’t sure if the prophecies were common knowledge. She guessed not. “He’s working on a project for the Ajna Guild, which seems important.”
“What kind of person is he?” Nixie was more interested in the person than the project.
“Arrogant. Proud. Works hard.”
Nixie smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Huh. Do we know anyone else like that?”
Blaize scowled. “He’s also conflicted. One minute he doesn’t want me to work with him, the next minute he does.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to help. And I want to learn about Ajna from an expert, which he does seem to be. But I hate the idea that I’m not wanted.” She looked away from Nixie’s picture as she said this last. It burned to admit it.
“He’ll soon see you for who you are,” Nixie said firmly.
“Who’s that then?” said Blaize, amused.
“A confident, competent energetic who’s going to learn fast and be of help in no time.”
Blaize shook her head and laughed, and turned the talk to other things.
The conversation lasted another thirty minutes, and refreshed, Blaize went outside in the cool Canadian morning. She walked into the dense and damp woods, and played with a fire droplet, scattering it into many tiny drops that looked like a burst of fireflies around her head.
She started working—or playing—in earnest.
Strings of light dipped and twisted like thread, creating a fabulous pattern, the lightest and most delicate of lacework in fire in the sky. She played like this for another hour or two, and the day gradually got brighter and her creations more complex. She experimented both with power and delicacy. She revelled in playing with the energy in a way she
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