Page 42 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

How have I not noticed that they’ve been there all along?

A breathy moan escapes my throat at the pleasant warmth that flows through me, liquid sunlight streaming through my body. Electricity surges with golden fire, burning and building as it eagerly seeks to escape, to find the target that I will for it to destroy.

All these sensations are there and gone in an impossible second that stretches the confines of time. Just when I think I will implode from the delectable pressure, those visceral threads find their escape into the dirt they seek to travel through.

I open my eyes to find ethereal veins of glittering electricity racing under the ground, like watching glass crack and the light of another world fighting to leak through. Shimmering, white-gold webs fade slowly from me, and there is barely a trickle that reaches the stump.

As it does, acrackrings around me and a small beam of my light bursts through the center of the dead tree. A faint trail of smoke isleft in its wake as the tree stump breaks in half. A breeze sends that smoke in my direction, and I get a faint, earthy whiff mixed with something dark and floral.

The silence in the aftermath is almost deafening when I leap to my feet, panting with exhilaration. My body shakes with unbound excitement. Wild and untethered joy swallows me fully as I internally celebrate this victory.

I was right, it came back to me as easily as my fighting techniques.

Slow clapping echoes behind me.

My happiness is dashed away instantly, like I’m being doused with a bucket of ice water laced with crippling uncertainty.

“Magnificent.” The word is whispered on an impassioned breath as I turn to Locane.

Much the same as that far off, distorted voice from my memory.

“I…” I start off, unsure of what I even intended to say.

A twinge of guilt starts to creep its way up my spine, making my throat thick. I stuff it down before it has a chance to fully develop.

“Actually, I owe you no explanations. I have done nothing wrong,” I say airily and am proud of the resolve buried in my nonchalant tone. Collecting my shoes and socks, not bothering to put them back on, I walk away swinging my arms with each step. Locane is in front of me in a blink and holds out a hand to halt me.

He scowls at me. “I wasn’t going to scold you like a child.”

I chuckle. “Oh, really? You do call me a child often.” I step around him and continue, suddenly ravenous after the exertion of energy. My mind is building a large sandwich with all the fixings that I spotted in the icebox this morning.

Unsurprisingly, Locane keeps in step beside me. “I don’t know why you think I would react negatively. I’ve been very forthcoming about wanting you to reach your full potential. And Icomplimented that stunning display of magic. That is an unheard-of gift. I meant it when I called it magnificent.”

“Oh, I’m sure. And I know you meant it the first time you said it was magnificent, too.”

“The first time?” he asks, confused. “When was the first time?”

Locane’s usual air of impatience is making itself known, and I smile internally at how easily I chafe him.

“Come on, Locane. I’m sure you remember. I can’t be certain, but I’m inclined to believe it was the first time you saw a display of that rare magic.” I pat his cheek twice, in an obviously patronizing way, and it has the desired effect.

He purposely riles me up to get what he wants out of me. Well, two can play that game. And I plan to start playing whatever this game is.

Locane grabs my arm, turning me to face him. The new pallor of his complexion is stark in the bright sunlight. His cheeks have turned a mottled red, and I smile sweetly at him. “What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about?” he grits out.

“It was me, you, and Nana. I zapped a tree stump. It was a very similar scenario to today. Nana clapped, you said it was magnificent. If I can remember, I’m sure you can.” My gaze narrows at him in accusation.

The light in his eyes shifts, and I’m shocked to see undiluted fear. He grabs my arm tighter; the discoloration of his cheeks splotches more, spreading into a patchwork of crimson.

“You saw me in this memory?” Locane inquires softly, his pupils dilating a fraction.

My confidence in the exchange melts away to intrusive unease. “Well, no. I didn’t see you. It was someone standing behind mewith an odd sounding voice saying ‘magnificent’ just like you did. There was the same familiarity I get from you.”

The tension and fear in Locane’s eyes is gone as quickly as it appeared. He’s less unsettled; his expression morphs back to irritation. “That could be anyone. Why would you think it was me?”

My throat bobs once while I swallow my unease, determined to let him know the gravity of how little I believe we have only recently met.