Page 86 of Claim the Light
She gives me a smile that breaks through the tension in her face. “Sophia, you’re glowing as brightly as the dragon’s light when I first brought it out of the veil.”
“I’m what?” I check my arms and hands, but I don’t see what she sees.
“When I looked at Micah and Beatrix, I sensed nothing, but when I look at you, I sense everything,” she says. “Everything good. Just lying here in your presence, my mind is filled with hope. I have this buzz in my head that tells me not to give up, and a taste in my mouth like I’m chomping down on a bouquet of fucking sunflowers.”
Her lips lift into a smile and her eyes are brightening with every passing moment.
“It’s joy and bliss and anticipation for a life that could be.” Her gaze arrests mine as she continues. “The only explanation I have is that your power islife, Sophia.”
Her smile grows when I stare at her in disbelief.
“You’re the moonlight in the dark. The sunlight in the shadows. The quiet between bursts of thunder. When you finally accept your strength, you will be a force to be reckoned with.”
I’m trying to process what she’s telling me. I’ve been afraid of finding out that my power is dark when in fact, it could be the opposite.
She continues. “Your touch must be the reason that Micah and Beatrix haven’t succumbed to the ash yet. Your power must be keeping it at bay.”
I remember each time I hugged Beatrix and each time I put my hand on Micah’s heart when he was cold. In the forest, I thought it was the warmth of sunlight that helped him, but now I remember the way he’d told me thatIwas warm. When Beatrix lay on this feathery bed, I’d pressed my palm to her heart too. And then I’d cried onto Lana’s hand.
For the first time since encountering Tyler on the rooftop, I feel true hope.
“Then… I can fight Tyler,” I say. “I can beat him.”
I’m still not sure exactly how to use my power, other than simply reaching out my hand, but now that I have more of a sense ofwhatmy power is, I have hope that I can figure it out.
At the very least, it explains why I wasn’t affected by the ash like Micah and Beatrix.
“I believe you can beat him,” Lana says, although her smile fades. “But it won’t be easy. And the risk to anyone around you is high.”
It’s a sobering reality. “Because of how easily he can hurt them.”
All it took to wound Lana was a scratch across her cheek. Beatrix was hurt by secondhand contact with the dust. And Micah, well, he was exposed to far too much of it, but he’s been at my side nearly non-stop ever since.
I square my shoulders. “Will you let me try healing you?”
Not only would I give anything for Lana to be okay, but if I know I can counteract Tyler’s power, then I’ll be far less worried about taking my family with me into this fight.
Lana relaxes against the feathers. “I’m not about to sayno.”
I exhale slowly since I haven’t consciously used my deeper power before. For a long moment, I consider the times when I’ve felt most in control. Weirdly, it has been when I’ve embraced risk, letting go of my inhibitions and worries, and I followed my instincts.
Like choosing to dive off a cliff and plummet toward a forest far below. Or to run toward a struggling deer. Or to step into a magical garden controlled by a powerful keeper of magic.
Or… slipping my arm around Micah’s waist and finding the courage to tell him that he didn’t have to hide his pain from me.
Reaching out, I press my left hand over Lana’s heart and, with my right hand, I cup her cheek where her skin is tinged with gray.
At my touch, her black scales blossom across her skin, appearing around my hand on her neck and face, and above the neckline of her shirt.
She stays perfectly still and I close my eyes, seeking the life-giving blood pumping around her body. It’s an easy task now and I can immediately identify her heartbeat.
But with a shiver I can’t hide, I can now also sense the death in her blood, the lifeless ash she was talking about, and it chills me to my bones.
It’s all through her body. Everywhere her heart pumps.
Flecks of death glittering within her.
I grit my teeth and pray that I can feel the happiness Lana described, the bliss that makes her think of sunflowers, because the death that’s flowing through her is sucking all of the joy from my own heart.
