Winter Fire [ Book 1 ] ✔

Chapter Thirty

Claire stood staring down at the rushing waters for several heartbeats. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before and the thought of getting in terrified her. What if she couldn't do it? What if she got swept away? What if she got-

Is this how you think ALL the time? This is exhausting!

Claire felt her cheeks grow warm and imagined herself punching Draz square in the nose. She felt him smirk.

Now that isn't very nice, Claire.

Keep it up and I'll show you just how not-nice I can be. Claire replied with a frown.

You just need to relax, if you go into the river with all those distractions you are going to get yourself into trouble.

Claire knew he was right, she had to be more confident in herself. As she leaned closer to the water, the star like lights seemed to hang suspended in place despite the rushing current. The closer she came to the water, the more the roaring sound diminished and was replaced by faint whispering.

Do you hear that, Draz?

Yes. They're memories, moments, your moments. You must not let them distract you.

Claire nodded and she reached out towards the water. Her fingers hovered just over the shimmering surface for a moment before she plunged her hand forward.

Claire expected the water to be cold, or at the very least wet, but neither of these were the case. As her hand slid beneath the surface she found it to be oddly warm and it felt more like flowing air than water.

Even stranger still, Claire could no longer see her hand where it was submerged despite the water appearing to be crystal clear all the way to its pebble strew riverbed.

Before she could contemplate this further, she felt a tug on her arm. It was gentle at first and gradually became harder, and more insistent.

Claire instinctively fought against it, uncertain as to what, or who, might be behind it. Try as she might to free herself, the pull only grew stronger and Claire found herself pitching forward head first into the river.

The miniscule balls of light seemed to leap away from her as she sank, springing back like rubber bands into their original place once she had passed through their space. Colors swirled around her like ink, blending with one another in vibrant patterns. Claire felt as though she had fallen into a Van Gogh painting.

What is a Van Gogh?

The intrusion startled her, angered her even, as she had forgotten Draz was with her. It wasn't anger towards him, but anger at herself for once again failing to maintain proper focus. The feeling was fleeting and if Draz noticed he didn't say.

He's an artist. This place reminds me of his paintings.

Perhaps he's been here? Magic is not prominent in your world, but it's not entirely absent either.

Maybe...

It was then that Claire noticed she was drifting, floating along through colors, whispers and lights, and moving further away from her destination -- further away from Alek. His face formed in her mind, his blue eyes full of life, his lips caught in that signature, all-knowing smirk. Claire felt an ache blossom in her chest, pushing through her body with vibrant hues of bold crimson and deep sienna.

Until this moment, her pain had never been so physical, so visceral, and tangible.

Claire knew she had to push past it, she had to focus on her task: getting to Alek.