heart was pounding hard enough he thought he was going to be sick. The memories of his own accident resonated through him. “And maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
“Give me a minute.” Lindsay was still staring off at the city. Noah wanted to tell him they didn’t have a minute, that these people were going to get themselves killed, but then he saw the traffic lights flicker to life—all red.
Men in uniforms—traffic cops and city workers—appeared at the intersections, working to fix the problem. They weren’t real, Noah knew, but it was hard to remember that when drivers and pedestrians interacted with them so naturally.
Lindsay still didn’t turn toward Noah, but he held out his hand. “Come here. I can keep you out of the illusion, and you can stop the fires.”
As the chaos faded, Noah’s composure returned. He took Lindsay’s hand, knowing the illusion was about to disappear and he would have to deal with reality. Already, he could see that whatever was wrong wasn’t an assault and it wasn’t coordinated. Maybe Lindsay would know more soon.
“Kristan needs to find us,” he reminded Lindsay.
“We won’t be hidden. But I need to be careful not to interfere with Cyrus and Dane.”
Reality returned slowly, like the opening sequence of a movie. Smoke rose from a diner down the street, power lines sparked with too much electricity, but the illusion flickered at the edges of Noah’s vision, like if he turned his head fast enough, he would be able to see the calm that had been there a moment before.
It was easier than Noah remembered to let his magic out. He could feel fires flowering far beyond the range of his vision, and he carefully eliminated each. The worst was at a gas station where all hell had broken loose. He couldn’t see it to know what had happened, but he could feel the fire feeding from the tanks and devouring everything in reach. Like always, there was a sense of sadness at quelling the flames, putting out what had been vivid and alive. But he could feel the fire gnawing at flesh, and he couldn’t let that happen.
Beside him, Lindsay looked like a statue, paler than ever and taut with strain. His gray eyes were fixed on nothing that Noah could see, but he was watching whatever it was with intensity. He breathed like Noah remembered breathing to ride out the pain of a broken arm or wrecked knee, keeping on top of it and staying focused. Noah couldn’t imagine what he saw. The fires were overwhelming enough, and Lindsay had thousands of sentient creatures to convince that all was well.
When the wind whipped up and Lindsay swayed with it, clinging to the rail, Noah wrapped his arms around him without thinking. Lindsay leaned into him and Noah managed to pry Lindsay’s white-knuckled hands from the rail. If they needed to leave, Lindsay couldn’t take that with him.
Knowing how difficult it was to sustain that much magic and not being able to help was maddening.
At the same time, Noah was filled with a kind of awe that was tinged with dread. Very few people must have known how powerful Lindsay was, or he wouldn’t be breathing still.
As Lindsay let his head rest on Noah’s chest, Noah stroked the hair out of his face. The wind kept lashing at them, tearing at the signs and façades on the buildings around them until Noah could hear them coming apart. Cyrus’s body might be fading, but his magic was still immense.
“They’re at the boardwalk.” Kristan had to shout to be heard over the wind. “We need to stay, to make sure he can keep the humans from knowing what’s really happening.” She wiped her hand across her face where blood was trickling from a gash. “He’s okay?”
“He’s fine.” Noah let his hand slide to rest on Lindsay’s throat, so he could feel the pulse skittering under Lindsay’s soft skin. Fast, but steady. Yes, he was fine. “You?”
“Piece of trash hit me.” Kristan pressed her sleeve to her cheek.
“Least it was a
“Give me a minute.” Lindsay was still staring off at the city. Noah wanted to tell him they didn’t have a minute, that these people were going to get themselves killed, but then he saw the traffic lights flicker to life—all red.
Men in uniforms—traffic cops and city workers—appeared at the intersections, working to fix the problem. They weren’t real, Noah knew, but it was hard to remember that when drivers and pedestrians interacted with them so naturally.
Lindsay still didn’t turn toward Noah, but he held out his hand. “Come here. I can keep you out of the illusion, and you can stop the fires.”
As the chaos faded, Noah’s composure returned. He took Lindsay’s hand, knowing the illusion was about to disappear and he would have to deal with reality. Already, he could see that whatever was wrong wasn’t an assault and it wasn’t coordinated. Maybe Lindsay would know more soon.
“Kristan needs to find us,” he reminded Lindsay.
“We won’t be hidden. But I need to be careful not to interfere with Cyrus and Dane.”
Reality returned slowly, like the opening sequence of a movie. Smoke rose from a diner down the street, power lines sparked with too much electricity, but the illusion flickered at the edges of Noah’s vision, like if he turned his head fast enough, he would be able to see the calm that had been there a moment before.
It was easier than Noah remembered to let his magic out. He could feel fires flowering far beyond the range of his vision, and he carefully eliminated each. The worst was at a gas station where all hell had broken loose. He couldn’t see it to know what had happened, but he could feel the fire feeding from the tanks and devouring everything in reach. Like always, there was a sense of sadness at quelling the flames, putting out what had been vivid and alive. But he could feel the fire gnawing at flesh, and he couldn’t let that happen.
Beside him, Lindsay looked like a statue, paler than ever and taut with strain. His gray eyes were fixed on nothing that Noah could see, but he was watching whatever it was with intensity. He breathed like Noah remembered breathing to ride out the pain of a broken arm or wrecked knee, keeping on top of it and staying focused. Noah couldn’t imagine what he saw. The fires were overwhelming enough, and Lindsay had thousands of sentient creatures to convince that all was well.
When the wind whipped up and Lindsay swayed with it, clinging to the rail, Noah wrapped his arms around him without thinking. Lindsay leaned into him and Noah managed to pry Lindsay’s white-knuckled hands from the rail. If they needed to leave, Lindsay couldn’t take that with him.
Knowing how difficult it was to sustain that much magic and not being able to help was maddening.
At the same time, Noah was filled with a kind of awe that was tinged with dread. Very few people must have known how powerful Lindsay was, or he wouldn’t be breathing still.
As Lindsay let his head rest on Noah’s chest, Noah stroked the hair out of his face. The wind kept lashing at them, tearing at the signs and façades on the buildings around them until Noah could hear them coming apart. Cyrus’s body might be fading, but his magic was still immense.
“They’re at the boardwalk.” Kristan had to shout to be heard over the wind. “We need to stay, to make sure he can keep the humans from knowing what’s really happening.” She wiped her hand across her face where blood was trickling from a gash. “He’s okay?”
“He’s fine.” Noah let his hand slide to rest on Lindsay’s throat, so he could feel the pulse skittering under Lindsay’s soft skin. Fast, but steady. Yes, he was fine. “You?”
“Piece of trash hit me.” Kristan pressed her sleeve to her cheek.
“Least it was a
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