Page 64 of Claim the Light
He sounds wary as he asks, “What are those?”
“Dragonflies. I think.” I shrug. “They live in the lake like fish, but they can fly around in the air. It seems like they only need to return to the water when their bodies dry out.”
As I speak, the insects do just that, zipping back to the water and diving into it. Within seconds, another group of dragonflies rises and soars across to me. I’m probably imagining it, but it feels like they’re taking turns keeping me company.
I take the opportunity before they reach us to lean a little closer to Micah, placing my hand firmly on his thigh—the one farthest from me.
“Be calm,” I say, “but you have a friend on your other side.”
Micah’s focus darts to my hand, then to the grassy patch next to his leg.
A fluffy, little creature about the size of a corgi sits in the grass beside him, its face upturned and its eyes bright. With floppy ears, the cutest button tail, and rich-brown fur furrier than any I’ve ever seen, it looks like a rabbit. Except that it has a nose like a piglet’s.
Micah freezes as the creature snuffles at the air.
Without moving an inch, he whispers, “What. The Fuck. Is that?”
“Rabbit, maybe?” I give an apologetic grimace. “I’m not sure. But it’s harmless.”
Micah’s hands fly into the air when the little creature bounds onto his lap, turns around and around, and then settles down against his stomach, its ears flopping over its face.
I clear my throat. “They’reallharmless.”
“All?”
Two more rabbit creatures venture out from behind my back, eyeing Micah before they snuggle in on either side of me. They each rest a chin on one of my thighs.
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head at the creature in his lap. “No making friends with the wildlife.”
When he reaches down to pluck it off his lap, he pauses, his fingers barely brushing its body. “Their fur is like silk.”
“Could be why they became extinct,” I say, suddenly grim.
“Yeah.” He sighs and leaves the creature where it is.
He’s quiet for a long moment, watching the dragonflies hum around us. Then his jaw clenches, and he exhales heavily. “I need to know what’s going on with me.”
“Me too.” I’ve had hours to think about it. “Lana and Callan said they’d find out what they could about Tyler’s power, but I don’t think we can wait for them to bring us answers. Isaac mentioned there’s a library here in the veil, and I imagine it has books about all sorts of magic. Tomorrow, I’d like to spend the morning there. We can train in the afternoon. Also…” Now my speech becomes more hesitant. “Isaac may be able to help you. His soul light can banish darkness.”
“It can also burn, immobilize, or kill his targets,” Micah says pointedly.
I know only too well the danger of a Sentinel’s light. When Sentinels attacked little Emika, I was knocked unconscious by their soul light. I woke up to find Lana protecting me from Grudge dragons who had found me unconscious.
One of those Grudge dragons was Micah and, while I would have foregone being knocked out, I wouldn’t change any other aspect of my first encounter with him.
“A Sentinel’s soul light is a double-edged sword,” Micah continues. “It can heal or harm. We’re new allies and there’s a lot of bad history there. I’m not sure I’m willing to submit to that yet.”
I stiffen because Isaac already used his soul light when Micah and Beatrix emerged from the river. He did it at Lana’s instruction and I didn’t think anything of it except to hope that it would help. I trusted both Isaac and Lana without question. But seeing the intense wariness in Micah’s expression now, I’m worried about how he’ll feel about what was done.
It does, though, explain why he didn’t rest down on the feathery bed in the infirmary. His distrust of angels runs even deeper than mine.
Before I can work out how to tell him what happened on the riverbank, Micah continues. “But you’re right. Isaac could help. Even if he doesn’t use his soul light, he might have useful knowledge, particularly now that I’m experiencing more identifiable symptoms. I’ll speak with him about it. Tomorrow morning. Then I’ll come to the library with you.”
I let out the breath I was holding. “Okay, then. It’s a plan.”
A plan woven together with threads of hope and nothing much more, but it helps.
By this point, the moon has risen and the appearance of our surroundings is changing. Every blade of grass seems to have a bright tip so that we’re suddenly sitting in a sea of glowing dots.
