The Fiery Heart

He moved forward and clasped my hands again. “But I’m not going to be able to. You think I can stand aside the next time I have to heal someone? Let them suffer? That’s a temptation I can’t fight.”

“Then remove it. Talk to a doctor. Take the decision away, and see what wondrous things you can do when you’re in control of yourself again.”

Those green, green eyes held me for what felt like an eternity. At last he swallowed and shook his head again. “I can’t, Sydney. I can’t give it up.”

And at that point, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears started as just a few trickles and before I knew it, I was consumed by full-fledged sobbing. I buried my face in my hands, and all the grief, all the fear I’d held inside me for him came bursting out. I almost never cried. I certainly didn’t do it in front of others. And although I considered most of my dad’s lessons completely useless these days, I’d still clung to the idea that breaking down like this and showing so much emotion was a sign of weakness. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop.

I was scared. So, so scared for him. I dealt with logic and reason, and this was too hard for me, having to manage the unreasonable. And I’d meant what I said. I was afraid that one day, he’d go past frenetic painting and drunken antics. What if the pawnbroker had called the police before I got there? What if his aunt told him to walk off a building?

I felt Adrian’s arms go around me, and although they were strong, his voice wavered. “Sydney . . . are you . . . are we . . . are we breaking up?”

It took me almost a minute to speak without choking. I looked up at him in shock, unable to believe he’d think I would leave him because he was suffering. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

The alcohol was wearing off, and his earlier frustration and sadness were now completely trumped by fear and confusion. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because of you!” I beat my fists on his chest. “Because I love you, and I don’t know what to do! I can solve almost any problem, but I can’t solve this. I don’t know how to deal with that. And I’m afraid! Afraid for you! Do you know what it’d do to me if something happens to you?” I stopped hitting him and clasped my hands over my own chest, as though there was a danger my heart might fall out. “This! This would break. Shatter. Crumble. Crumble until it was dust.” I dropped my hands. “Blown away on the wind until there was nothing left.”

Silence fell between us, broken occasionally by my gasps as I tried to get over my sobs. It was so quiet that I heard my cell phone buzz in my purse. Zoe, I realized. In the wake of what had happened with Adrian, she seemed like something from another life. Slowly, reality seeped into me. She was very much a part of this life, and she was probably afraid that Jill was going to turn me into a snack.

I broke from Adrian and read the text, which was about what I expected. I told her I was fine and was on my way home. When I looked back up, Adrian was watching me with a longing and despair that made me want to rush back to him. But I knew I’d never leave then, and it was time to go. The rest of the world was marching on.

“We’ll talk later,” I whispered, not that I had any clue what else to say. I found my wallet and set some cash on the back of the couch. “To get you by.”

“Sydney . . .” He took a step forward and reached toward me.

“Later,” I reiterated. “Go get some sleep. And remember, I love you. No matter what else comes, I love you.”

It seemed like a paltry thing in the face of all that plagued him, but for now, it would have to be enough.

Chapter 11

ADRIAN

IT WAS THE TEARS THAT BROKE ME.

Maybe I could’ve stayed obstinate and argued against her, making excuses about why I was trapped by spirit. I could’ve probably done a decent job, even against her superior logic. But as I began sobering up after she left, the image of those tears haunted me. I’d always rejoiced in those rare moments of passion I saw in her eyes, that deeper emotional side she kept guarded. She wasn’t someone who showed her feelings easily to others, yet I alone was special enough to see the full wealth of her emotions when she was full of joy and desire. And tonight, I’d apparently been special enough to witness her sorrow too.

It ate me up, especially because the next time I saw her, she acted as though nothing had happened. She was good to her word. She wasn’t going to leave me. But despite her smiles and her cool countenance, I knew she must be frustrated. I had a problem—no, I was a problem. One she couldn’t solve. It had to be driving her crazy, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized she shouldn’t have to solve it. I needed to step up. No one had ever cried for me before. Honestly, I didn’t think I was worth anyone’s tears.

“But I have to be,” I told Jill one day. “If she cares that much and can hurt so much for me . . . how can I let her feelings go to waste? She thinks I’m important. I have to prove that I can be.”

“You are important,” Jill assured me.

We were sitting outside her dorm, enjoying a surge of winter warmth. The shadow of the sprawling stucco building kept the worst of the light away from us.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I can offer her or the world. I thought it was spirit. I thought the things I can do with it would be my contribution to the world. Like you and Olive.” I’d heard nothing about Olive since she’d gone to Court, and for all I knew, my efforts might have actually failed.

Jill squeezed my hand and smiled. “Well, it’s certainly a contribution as far as I’m concerned, but Sydney was right—you don’t know what else you might be capable of. Most people don’t leave their mark on the world through big miracles. Some do,” she added quickly. “But sometimes the biggest impact is made by a series of small, quiet things. You won’t be able to do anything like that if you’re—”

“—locked away or dead?” I finished, echoing Sydney’s words.

Jill winced. “Let’s not think about anything like that. No point stressing over what hasn’t happened. Just work on what you can control now.”

I slung an arm around her. “There you go again, Jailbait. Being all wise beyond your years.”

“Your wisdom must be rubbing off on me. You’re already doing great things without even trying.” She leaned into me. “But seriously, Adrian. Try it. Try to stop spirit and see what happens.”

“I haven’t used it since then. Not even to look at auras.” I also hadn’t had a single drink, not even my daily allotted one.

“It’s only been a few days. Not to say your sacrifice isn’t noble. But are you going to be able to resist using spirit if . . . I don’t know . . . if, say, Sydney cuts her leg shaving? Are you going to be able to resist, or are you going to think, ‘Oh, a little spirit healing on that cut won’t hurt’?”

“She does have great legs,” I admitted. “I’d hate to see them marred.”

“Exactly. And you’d think that a teeny, tiny bit of spirit wouldn’t hurt anything. And then you’d think that the next time. And the next time—”

I held my hands up. “Okay, okay. I get it. Thank God Sydney’s too careful for this shaving fiasco to even be a possibility.” We both laughed at that, and then the severity of the situation settled back on me. “You win. I’ll try . . . but I just can’t shake the feeling I’m being selfish if I do this. I’ve been selfish my whole life. It’d be nice if I’d overcome that.”

Jill met me squarely in the eye. “Every time you use spirit . . . is it just to do good?”

I took a long time to answer. “You’re asking me something you already know the answer to,” I said. I used spirit for the rush because I felt blissful and godly. At times, I got the same high I would from drinking or smoking.

“Then there you go,” she said. “See what happens. If it doesn’t work, you stop. It’s a pill, not a lifelong commitment.”

“Why does that sound familiar?”

She grinned mischievously. “It’s what you told Sydney about birth control pills.”

Hard to believe I’d nearly forgotten about that. “Ah, yes. A conversation you’re best left out of. We need to preserve your innocence for as long as possible.”

Jill’s wry expression was another of those that looked too wise for her age. “That ended the moment we were bonded.”

Just then, Sydney and Zoe stepped out of the dorm’s front door. They didn’t see us, sitting on our far bench, and Jill called out to them. Zoe stiffened. Sydney smiled, though it was a polite Alchemist smile.

I leaned back and crossed my legs, hoping I looked as insolent as possible. “Well, well. The Sisters Sage. Where are you guys off to? Volunteer work at the library? Liquidation sale at the Container Store?”

Incredibly, Sydney managed to keep a straight face. Aside from reinforcing my love for her, it also made me want to take her to a poker game sometime. Between that and my aura reading, we’d make a killing. “Close. Zoe needs some graphing paper for her math class.”

“Ah,” I said. “Office supplies. That was going to be my next guess. I only held off because I figured you guys kept reams of that stuff under your beds.”

And still, Sydney managed that amazing control, though her lips did twitch ever so slightly. She glanced at Jill. “Need anything?”

Jill shook her head, but I piped in, “I could use a new sketchbook and some pigment sticks and—”

Sydney sighed and put on a tormented expression. “Adrian, I wasn’t talking to you. Come on, Zoe. We’ll see you guys later.” They started to walk away, and then Sydney abruptly halted. “Oh! I have to talk to Jill about something real quick. Here.” She tossed Zoe her keys. “You can bring it out of the parking garage.”

Zoe’s eyes widened like Sydney had just said Christmas was coming early. It was actually kind of sweet, and I had to remember that Zoe was a perpetual scourge upon my love life. “Really? Oh! Thank you!” She snatched the keys without a second thought and trotted away.

Sydney watched her fondly. “Really?” she asked me. “A Container Store liquidation?”

“Come on,” I said. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t be all over that.”

She grinned and turned back to us. The sunlight made her hair turn to molten gold, and it took my breath away. “Maybe,” she agreed. “Depends on how tasteful the colors were.”

“I’m guessing you don’t actually have to talk to me?” Jill asked, with a sly smile.

Sydney shrugged and tucked some of that marvelous hair behind her ear. “Not specifically. Mostly I just wanted some breathing space. It’s nice to talk to both of you.” But her eyes fell on me, and I could’ve cut the tension between us. I knew that she, like me, was having a mental struggle in staying apart. I would’ve given anything to hold her just then, to trace the edge of her cheek or feel the strands of her hair between my fingers. Clearing her throat, she looked away and seemed to be groping for a safe subject. Well, a semi-safe one. Her voice dropped as her eyes turned back up with a gleam.

“I did it.” She cast a quick glance around before continuing. “The salt. I got all four elements into it.”

Jill caught her breath, just as consumed by the quest as Sydney and me. “You think you can use it to replicate Marcus’s ink?”

Sydney nodded eagerly. “The hard work’s done. It just needs to be ground up and suspended in any ink solution to use for tattooing. Then, I need a guinea pig. I guess the brave thing would be to try it on myself.”

“I have absolute faith in your abilities,” I told her, “but maybe you should wait and experiment with one of Marcus’s starry-eyed recruits.”

“I suppose I could. I mean, I don’t think it’ll cause any harm. The biggest problem will be whether it works or not. And the only way we can find out is if the Alchemists try to re-ink the guinea pig—which none of us want.” Her small, thoughtful frown was adorable. “Unless I could get a hold of Alchemist ink and do more experiments . . . but, ugh. That won’t be easy without sanctioning. And I don’t have an earth user around either.”

I scoffed. “I’m sure Abe would love to help.”

“Oh, yes,” said Sydney. “I’m sure he would. I’m sure he’d love to know all about my side project.”

Zoe pulled up just then in that beast of a car. She didn’t drive over the curb or crash into the building, so I supposed that was promising. Nonetheless, I saw Sydney’s sharp eyes studying the exterior for even the tiniest ding. Satisfied, she took the driver’s seat from Zoe and waved goodbye to us. Her eyes held mine, and for a few moments, I was suspended in that amber gaze. I sighed as she drove off, and when I glanced down, I saw Jill watching me knowingly.