Chapter - Nineteen

Calum and I took a seat at a breakfast table inside a warm café. It was half past ten in the morning and people buzzed around us, grabbing takeaway coffees, and bacon and egg buns that oozed relish and cheese. A lovely waitress served us our drinks and food as Calum talked about his lack of love.

‘I'm just saying, I think I'm going to die alone,' he said in between sips of his caramel milkshake.

I scoffed. ‘You won't.'

He looked down at my plate. ‘I might. Ever since you and Felix became a thing, I've had nobody to annoy.'

‘What a pity.'

Calum beamed at me. ‘Happiness has changed you.'

‘Do we have to do this?'

‘I'm just saying, happiness looks good on you both,' Calum said. ‘It's good to see Felix happy after everything he's been through. And you too, for everything you're currently going through. I'd be handling your life much worse. You're doing so well, Tabs. Everyone is really proud of you.'

‘Thank you. That means a whole lot coming from you, Cal.'

‘Me?' He waved a hand, making a funny face. ‘I'm nothing to worry about. I'll always have your back. Even if you ask me to do black magic. Which you will.'

‘I will?'

‘I guarantee it.'

I giggled and stood up, grabbing my empty mug. ‘Be right back,' I told Calum. ‘Just going to order another.'

He nodded, waving me off. I sauntered to the counter, wondering when I'd started to live in this new skin so easily.

The woman at the counter was serving a man who fiddled with his keys as he spoke, the metal keychain making a jangling sound. When I checked behind me, Calum was texting, his shoulders hunched. I turned away and stepped forward in line as the man finished his order for a takeaway latte and breakfast roll with extra sauce.

As the man brushed past me, an electric spark jolted down my spine. His elbow knocked the mug out of my hands and to the floor. It smashed into pieces and we both cursed out loud. He and I were on the ground in seconds, trying to brush up the pieces.

‘Shit, I am so sorry,' he told me.

‘You're fine,' I said as I squatted to collect the pieces of crockery.

A waitress knelt down beside me with a dustpan and brush, smiling. ‘How about I do that for you?'

‘I'm so sorry,' the man said to her.

‘It happens,' the waitress told him with a shrug.

I stood up with a piece of the broken china in my hand just as the electric current ran through me again. The shock caused me to tense my hands into fists and I sliced the skin of my palm that was holding the jagged piece of china. Gold blood brimmed to the surface of the cut instantly and I closed my hand over the wound. Suddenly, the breath was knocked from my lungs and something stirred in my gut. My mind was not my own. An unearthly chant flowed from my mouth, nothing about it recognisable, and I whispered in a monotone,

‘Cum haec caedis ego devoco quod ignis.'

Then I opened my palm. Blue fire swirled above it without touching my skin. It was the most exotic and perfect blue. It didn't burn my skin or hurt in any way, but simply danced above my palm as the air licked its sides. But just as quickly as it arrived, it was gone. I examined my hand closely and found it looked the same as always, apart from a small trail of gold blood seeping from the cut.

The waitress looked up at me from her position on the floor. ‘Did you say something?'

‘Nothing,' I lied.

The man who had started it all looked at me. ‘You alright, miss?'

‘Yes,' I said. ‘Just fine.'

He nodded and left as the waitress took the broken pieces from the floor and swept them into the dustpan. I didn't know if what had happened had been real or a hallucination. I could not recall any of the words of the chant and the more I tried, the further they drifted away. So after thanking the girl, I made my way back to Calum, who was far too engrossed with talking to notice my silence.

We continued our breakfast, but a strange feeling formed in my stomach. I began to feel cold and yet beads of sweat prickled at my hairline. Calum didn't seem bothered by the temperature but I felt like I was sweating bullets. Eventually, the discomfort became too much and I asked if we could return to the institute. Calum's chocolate-coloured eyes swam with concern, but he didn't question me and agreed we could leave.

As we walked back to the institute, Calum chewed my ear off, telling me about Florence resigning from her position at the house to travel the world, and Blanche was redesigning the house for Talora's birthday present. Calum kept up with my brisk walk as we made it through the institute's vast front doors and into the west wing.

Chills ran up and down my spine even though it was so hot inside. Bile rose in my throat. We made it to the door of my room just as I felt the need to throw up. I turned in the doorway and braced myself across the frame, blocking Calum from following me.

‘What's wrong?' he asked, pulling up short.

‘I think I just need to lie down,' I said, feeling sweat beading at the nape of my neck. ‘Do you mind if I see you a little bit later?'

‘Of course. Are you okay? Can I get you anything?'

I shook my head, clamping down on my urge to be sick. ‘Nope. Just need a lie down.'

‘Alright.' He waved. ‘Talk soon, love.'

As soon as I shut the door, I rushed to the bathroom and was sick into the toilet bowl. When I was finished, I washed my mouth out with water and collapsed into bed. Nausea still rolled through my gut and the heat inside my body was suffocating. As the day passed, I sweated so much that the bedsheets were damp and clung to my skin. By late afternoon, the heat within me burned up any water I swallowed within minutes.

As night fell, I was unable to make up my mind whether I was freezing or melting. There was a knock on my door. I moaned, then heard the sound of Felix's combat boots on the floor. He was at my side in an instant.

Peeling back the hair stuck to my forehead, he said, ‘What's wrong?'

He pulled me into his arms and I cried out. My eyes were blurry with unshed tears.

‘Tabs, talk to me!'

‘Help,' I cried, my hands fumbling over his shirt. ‘Please.'

‘What happened, baby?'

‘It hurts,' I told him, sobbing as the heat flushed through me again. ‘Make it stop, please, please make it stop.'

He swore loudly and placed me gently back down on the bed, fumbling for his phone. I heard him talking loudly to whoever had answered. Everything passed in a blur after that – Volker and Nerida touching my cheeks as voices bickered about what to do with me. Zuzanna drew blood while an IV drip helped give me fluids. My skin was on fire whenever someone touched me. I vaguely remembered hearing Volker say I was dehydrated. I must have swum in and out of consciousness but whenever I came to, I was aware of Felix beside me.

The burning inside my chest consumed me, pulling the threads of my body in all directions. The feeling of Felix's hand holding onto mine was the only thing I could use to ground myself. I was being ripped into tiny pieces, fragments of myself lying scattered between cotton bedsheets.

And then Volker's face was rippling in front of my eyes, his magic words pulling and tugging something out from the palms of my hands.

An ache I couldn't fathom erupted in my chest. A wet cry left my mouth as he brought it to the surface. I struggled against the grip he had on my temples, pleading desperately for Felix to make it end. Volker remained in place as he chanted to a crescendo, calling out to a higher being as I let out an enraged cry.

Then suddenly, Volker wasn't there anymore. His body cracked against the bedroom wall. It was as if I had a birds-eye view of the scene taking place. I could see myself standing on the bed, sweat dripping down my hairline, as I sucked in a deep breath, the air around me electric. Fire rippled in my hands without touching or burning the skin, but instead, hovered around me.

Volker called my name. Felix stumbled away from the bed, his silver eyes wide in fright when I looked at him. He sank to his knees as I succumbed to the feeling within me. I'm scaring him.

Volker cried out, ‘Please, Tabitha. Come back to us.'

I looked once more at Felix. This isn't me. I don't want to be this person. The familiar chant fell from my lips again and the flames in my hands were extinguished. I felt my knees collapse as every muscle in my body betrayed me. Nerida flew to my side and caught me before I fell completely off the bed. Her hands smoothed back my hair and she murmured kind words as I drifted off into darkness.

???

Wake up, Tabitha. You've slept long enough. My eyelids fluttered open as I bolted upright, gasping for air. Dry sweat clung to my skin and made me feel cold all over. A hand brushed the hair from my face and helped me to sit upright. I looked at Volker as he offered me a glass of water. I swallowed it in one go and he took it back, before pushing me back down on the mattress.

‘You need to lie down.'

‘What happened?' I asked him.

‘You were a spectacular sight. I suspected something would break free from your skin soon, but I just didn't expect the extent of the theatricals.'

‘What happened?' I asked again.

He wore a devilish smirk. ‘You have power, Tabitha. Real, true, youngblood power. You can wield blue fire. It's why you have that youngblood mark on your finger. Your parents knew you would become a very powerful woman and marked you with the symbol to show your power – fire. When you chanted, you spoke an ancient tongue that is considered a fabled language.' His eyes shone bright. ‘You spoke in Fae tongue.'

‘But I … I don't know how to speak in Fae tongue,' I told him.

Volker laughed. ‘But you do! It was within you, hidden and secret. I pulled the power to the surface of your consciousness and you threw me into the wall for it.' I watched him roll out his shoulders. ‘Which kind of hurt, to be honest.'

‘Sorry.' I winced as I sat up a little more. ‘Does this mean my parents aren't a Fae and a child of death?'

‘It means you are more than just a youngblood. What more, I cannot tell until we find your parents.'

‘How would I know native Fae tongue, though?'

Volker raked in a breath. ‘I want to tell you about the Fae tongue but I hardly know much of it, except that the native Fae tongue is derived from Latin and is very hard to learn. Most Fae nowadays do not speak it.' Volker twitched in his seat. ‘The power running through your veins is not just from any Fae's; it is from faeries so powerful that people thought them to have perished long ago. You need to get into that Hall of Accords, Tabitha. The books in there can teach you more than I know.'

‘But I can't find it. I've tried looking. Felix too, and neither of us can find it.'

Volker's eyes glistened. ‘It is a secret hall for a reason. Try looking in the most obvious places.'

I was just about to ask what he meant when the door opened and Felix entered, closing it softly behind him. He was dressed in heavily ripped, light-wash jeans, a navy and pink sweater and had his glasses perched on his nose. He pushed them up with one finger as he spotted me. Within a millisecond he was at my side, brushing hair from my face. My body relaxed at his touch.

‘I didn't hear you wake,' he muttered, shaking his head. He frowned at Volker. ‘Why didn't you call me?'

‘She was busy,' Volker said.

Felix looked at the Warlock and said, ‘Move.'

‘Rude!' Volker replied, but followed the direction anyway. He stood up as Felix took a seat on the edge of the bed and stroked my hand. Volker sighed. ‘I must be off. Many elixirs and cauldrons to play with around here.' He glanced my way. ‘Remember what I said, Tabitha. Find that hall.'

‘Bye,' Felix said, waving him away.

Goodbye, Volker,' I said to the warlock. ‘I'll see you soon.'

He bowed his head to me before exiting the room.

Felix stroked my cheek as I pulled him in close to give him a peck on his mouth. As I moved back he pulled me in again to kiss me a little more, his lips soft on mine. When we finally stopped kissing, he was smiling.

‘You are something else,' he said. ‘Nobody else would have a fever and then start wielding blue fire.'

I grinned, wiggling my fingers at him. ‘Bow down to the Fire Queen.'

Felix let out a snort of laughter. He then grew serious. ‘Are you feeling alright?'

‘I'm so sorry if I scared you.'

He shrugged. ‘Honestly, you were a little terrifying when you began chanting in a dead language, that's for sure.'

‘I feel much better,' I told him. ‘Like there's not a weight on my chest anymore. I feel like I'm more … me.'

‘That's all I want,' he said.

He kissed me again, his mouth almost bruising my lips as he crushed himself to me. I responded with just as much enthusiasm, feeling the heat simmer in my palms as I stroked back his hair. His glasses nudged the bridge of my nose and in that moment, I didn't feel like I was losing myself to the unknown. All the fear and pain I'd experienced since becoming a youngblood had gone.