Emberlight

6. Embers, Bloodwitches, and Humans

Feya

"I'm going to die," Feya said the morning after, sitting at the end of the infirmary bed, sleep deprived from a long night of tossing and turning. "Bloodwitches are going to kill me and drink my blood."

"They're not vampires," Tristan said. "They just use the blood in spells."

"Shut up, Tristan," Kelsey and Feya chorused. He chuckled, although it sounded hollow. Maybe his laidback attitude helped relieve some stress for a moment, but a moment never lasted long, and besides, she could see through his act. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and the way he rested his head matched the way he looked before going into an exam. He was good at hiding his fear, but she had studied him a little too long for him to keep secrets.

Yemi popped her head in from the infirmary office. "Feya! Come here. Quickly, now." Kelsey nudged her off the bed, and she did as Yemi asked, entering the infirmary office.

Wooden boxes with strange engravings filled the shelves, and a half open draw held loose spices that perfumed the air with aniseed. As she closed the door, she knocked her arm on a pestle and mortar, and the marble material shimmered angrily in response.

"Careful, now. Folk used to enchant all kinds of tools with Perls to showcase here," Yemi said. "That was when magic was about being creative, about your sense of the earth or other element. But now? Out of everything here, my guess is you'll want this." The healer offered the landline phone to Feya. "It's your family. I'll leave you alone, but first, a word of warning."

Feya looked up, eager to reach for the phone. She laced her fingers together to stop herself from snatching it.

"I know your instinct will be to run from here, but the truth is, there's no place safer. Your blood's alive with magic now, and real witches—not LOCA's misuse of the word, but Embers turned nasty—they'll want to steal that magic. If you stay here you'll learn to cast spells, create Perls for enchantments, and harness that shield of yours. You might even smile."

"Do I have much of a choice?"

Yemi exhaled a soft laugh. "There's always a choice. Some take their chances out there in the world, but we don't tend to see them again. Anyway, quickly, now. Your daddy's waiting."

Feya's heart jumped with excitement as Yemi handed her the phone and left the room. She put the phone to her ear and swallowed. "Hello?"

"Fey-Ray?" a low voice asked.

She grinned. "Dad!" His voice was like an old, favourite tune.

"Is it true?" The concern in his voice stirred up guilt inside of her. "Have you changed on us? Are you really a witch?" The word sounded harsh and weathered, despite his gentle tone. "Sorry, love, old habits."

"I don't mind."

"No, no, I can do better. I meant to say an E-Em-Emb— Hmm."

"Dad?"

He coughed a familiar throaty noise, but didn't finish his sentence.

"Are you there?" she asked, remembering the Aversion. The soft crackle of the phone answered her louder than words; she could never talk to him about any of this without sending him into a debilitating daze. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she tried one last time. "Dad? Please answer."

"Feya? Are you alright?" her mother asked instead. She must have taken the phone from her him.

"I'm okay, I think. I saw Kelsey's house. Are you and dad okay?"

"We'll do just fine, you don't need to worry about us." She could hear the urgency laced in her mother's words. "We had a man come to our door, called himself an 'Ash' official. He says because of your magic..." Her mother paused, and a guttural noise sounded from the phone. Feya blinked back the tears as she waited for her mum to fight it. "Because of your gift, you can come home, if that's what you want. The bunker can't keep you against your will."