Magic's Memories

Chapter Four

The heat hit before the screams.

Feyla's ears rang as the shock of the explosion sent her tumbling to the ground. Flames engulfed the west side of the Healing House, flickering and stretching in the summer breeze. She scrambled out of the way of the gate, dragging Delia up with her. People rushed in as others began calling out help.

"That's the records wing!" Delia cried over the mania. Feyla saw the shock wash out of her friend as she snapped into focus and started shouting at bystanders to grab some buckets and form a line at the fountain while yelling at others to summon the city guard and remove everyone from the rest of the building.

"Is there anyone in there?" Feyla shouted back.

"A few in the library!" Delia yelled over the organizing commotion.

Feyla nodded. Her yellow hair flapped in the wind as she rushed toward the source of the flames. She yanked her open, sleeveless overdress off and dunked in in the fountain on her way there. Smoke poured out of the building like a twisted stone oven. Feyla held the wet dress to her mouth as she moved around the building, searching for anyone trying to get out. A few people scrambled out a bottom window, but two other healers got there first and began tugging their companions to safety.

Smoke stung Feyla's eyes and crept into her nose despite the wet dress. Questions pounded to the time of the blood rushing through her. How many were in there? Could she get in? Should she get in or would that just make things worse?

A figure emerged in the corner of her eye. Feyla's head snapped that direction. A person was climbing out a low window at the far corner of the building. Someone else made it! she thought, her breath catching in her throat. Her sandaled feet hit the white stone ground as she dashed over to the...man? She squinted. Yes, a man. He must be a patient, she thought, spotting his lack of the white healer clothes.

"Over here!" Feyla called out, waving her arm.

The man tumbled out the window the rest of the way, choosing to clutch the sack he was carrying instead of softening his fall.

Feyla skidded to a stop beside him. "Are you okay? Can you walk? We need to get away from the building," she spoke quickly, grabbing his shoulder. Her eyes scanned him for injuries as her healer's training fell into place like an old familiar cloak.

His face and dark brown hair were covered in soot, and he clung to the sack in his hands like it was all he had in the world. Feyla's eyes landed on his hands. He clutched a broken rune disc—a cut piece of essantium mages used to hold spells—along with the sack. It had sliced into his palm and spilled fire-red blood over the sickly black veins running through the brown skin of his hands.

Black magic.

Feyla's throat choked with something other than smoke. Black magic. Rune discs. The fire.

"Just like we used to," he muttered to himself, treating Feyla as if she wasn't there.

Feyla withdrew her hand slowly.

His eyes snapped to her. A smile curled his lips. One that reminded her of a smug little boy who had just beaten his older siblings in a game.

Feyla took a slow step back. Her wet overdress slipped from her shaking hands. "Do you—do you need help?" Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he hadn't caused the explosion. The Healer's Guild was known for taking in wizards and sorceresses who wished to reform.

"My family's done with your 'help'," snarled the young man.

Feyla's eyes darted around, but no one was left in the area. The flames of the raging fire and the shouts of those fighting it would muffle any attempt to call for help. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she braced herself for the fight she could feel coming. Battle healers were trained in how to incapacitate enemies non-lethally. A jab at his chest could temporarily block his magic. A pitch at the neck would send him tumbling to the ground unconscious.

But she had to get close enough to do it.

"Early," he mumbled, looking down. "I can do this part early." The rune disc dropped to the ground at the same time he swung the sack onto his back.

Feyla had spent enough time at the Magic Ministry to know what happens next.

A pulsing orb of red magic formed in his hand before darkening to a sickly black. Feyla rolled to the left seconds before his first blast hit. It struck the ground with a hiss, leaving a scorch mark that matched the smoke. She jumped back up, knees bent and ready to lung at any opening.

Their eyes locked as they began circling each other. His smile dropped and Feyla was hit with a sudden sense of familiarity like she'd stumbled into a forgotten nightmare. "I know you," she whispered.

He shook his head. "Not me."

Voices sounded in the distance.

The other healers! Feyla thought, her heart catching. They must be moving this way to fight the fire.

Her arsonist of a companion must have thought the same thing. He fired off three additional blasts. Feyla ducked under two. She lunged at the man, aiming for the spot on his chest that would block his magic. The third blast reached her first.

It skimmed across her upper arm like a rusted knife. Feyla cried out as black magic jolted through her body, jabbing at her own magic essence. Spots danced across her eyes, blurring against the smoke as she hit the ground.

Maybe she laid there for a minute. Maybe it was ten. But Feyla's vision didn't clear until she was lifted off the ground and the sound of concerned, professional voices echoed around. Healer voices. Her eyes snapped to where the man had been standing, but he was long gone with only the rune disc he'd dropped left behind.

Feyla jerked away from the hands holding her upright.

"Feyla, hold still!" Delia shouted, her voice finally registering in Feyla's ears.

She stumbled to the ground, snatching up the rune disc and clutching it to her chest. "I could have sworn...that I knew you," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes widened as she was dragged away from the burning building. Healing Houses were safe—nearly sacred—places. They took in everyone who needed help regardless of rank or race. Not even invading kingdoms burned a Healing Houses. Feyla stared at the wreckage of the building, flames still flickering and sputtering. Why would someone do this?