Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 4

The candle wouldn't go out. No matter how hard he tried, the bloody flame stood there and taunted him, wavering as he released a frustrated sigh, casting dancing shadows on the reed-lined cottage walls, turning the eyes of his mentor into starfire.

"Focus."

"If I focus any more I'm going to become the candle," Chad snapped back at Craventi, lifting his eyes. Craventi raised an eyebrow, and Chad leaned his elbows on his crossed legs and rubbed his face. "I'm sorry. But we've been at this all night. You know I'm rubbish at putting out fire with my magic. I'm better at kindling it."

"Which is why you must practice this," Craventi said, tapping the floor next to the candle with the tip of his staff. "Go on, then. It's only a little flame. Stop trying so hard. Let the shadows snuff it for you."

Chad's shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his eyes. If he pulled this off, he was tired enough that he'd likely be hit with crippling nausea. Craventi had theorized that lovely phenomenon after their practice had ended badly a few times: Chad was human, and though his soul magic was inherited from Dreail, the goddess of ice and sea, the bloodline was so diluted that it did very little against the effects of magic on his body. It was draining. Painful, sometimes, so much that he couldn't move for hours after a long day. It'd gotten a bit better after he'd gained some weight back, but in the end, he was a half-breed--not even--who couldn't bear his own gift without feeling half-dead afterwards.

"You're distracted," Craventi said, disapproval in his voice. "Focus, Chad."

Something snapped. Quick fire filled Chad's chest like acid, hot and poisonous and burning. Standing up, he snatched a glass of water off the table, losing half of it on the way, and dumped its remaining contents on the candle. "You focus," he said venomously. "I'm going to bed."

***

Craventi's eyes followed his every tired movement the next day. He hadn't slept well, tossing and turning and struggling to keep his eyes shut. He'd expected as much. It never sat well with him when he snapped at the old mage.

Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, Chad rubbed his eyes with one hand, lifted a ladle full of oatmeal with the other, dumped it unceremoniously into the bowl, and spooned brown sugar onto it out of a canister on the kitchen counter. He didn't even bother with butter this time. He just wanted something sweet and filling that wouldn't make him sick.

Craventi was still watching him when he pulled his chair out and sat down heavily. Chad managed to ignore him for all of two bites before he finally gave in, set his spoon down, and put his face in his hands. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have."

Chad sighed through his teeth and looked up. The old man was watching him with a strange expression, contemplative, and it bugged him. He only got that look when he was thinking hard about a change he knew was necessary but didn't want to make. The wrinkles in his leathery face shifted when he set his mouth in a line and pushed his chair back, taking his dishes to the sink. Leaving them there, he waited a moment before turning, running a hand over his white, stubbly beard and not meeting Chad's gaze.

"I'm not going to teach you any more magic," he finally said. Putting a hand up for silence when Chad dropped his fingers from his face and opened his mouth, Craventi continued. "Let me explain. I believe I've taught you all I can. I'm no professor, and, in complete honesty, you are no ordinary student of magic. And don't think this decision is a product of last night. I've been contemplating it for quite a while."

Chad put his elbows on the table and ran his hands through his hair, his fingers coming to rest on the nape of his neck as he stared at his oatmeal. "What now, then?"