Casting Flames

Chapter Five

All it took was four words.

She is getting worse.

Four words started a storm in my chest, and lightning cracked open the walls of my heart, thunder pounding inside my bones.

She is getting worse

She is getting

She is

She is the only person I'm sure I've ever truly loved. And I had to do something.

But the look on her face when they tore me from our home... I'll never forget it.

Because it haunts me every day.

I'm selfish. I've always been selfish. I've always kept the larger portions to myself, never shared my treats, I've never been naturally kind—except to Ella. When it comes to her, she is the only person I cannot be selfish with. But I will always be selfish for her.

I will always put her first.

That's why I agree to the terms.

That's why I sign away my life to this stranger full of rage.

She will be taken care of. She will have monthly rations delivered to her doorstep, free medical care and medicine. She will be protected. Even if it means I have to lie and deceive others. Even if that means I have to pretend to use my magic for a while. And when the time is right, I'll escape. I'll run or hide or fake my death or something. I'll find a way to make this work for a little while. I have to, or it's both of our lives on the line. If I die, the magic that saved her does too.

"You've read it over?" He doesn't look as stressed as he did this morning, but I continue to keep my distance.

My goal is to never touch him again.

"Yes."

"And you agree to the terms?"

I flip open the folder, pull out the packet of paper, and turn to the marked page. "I'm confused about what this means... These conditions are all determinant to the success of the obligor. Those who fail to perform shall have their contract nulled and void..." I look at him, practically measuring the space between us in imaginary ruler sticks.

He doesn't look at the paper, only at me, and it makes me want to turn around and run as fast as I can. "It means if you fail to perform, The Guard will terminate the contract and your family will no longer receive any benefits."

"Yeah, I got that. But what does failing to perform actually mean?"

He pinches his nose, lets out a deep breath and then meets my gaze. "It means that if you do not help us achieve our goals, you fail to perform," he gesture to the paper.

"What are your goals, exactly?"

"Look, White—"

  "Please don't call me White. My name is Emery."

His jaw clenches, unclenches, and then he continues. "I don't see why you are so concerned. Worst case scenario you are only able to repeat the procedure you performed with your sister, as in, heal wounded soldiers. Best case scenario, you learn more powerful spells and help us fight."

"Back up," I jab a finger at the document. "It says nothing about fighting in here."

"Emery," he sounds uncomfortable using my first name. "The Casters are coming for us. The Guard is the last human governed nation on the planet. They want to destroy us. They want to strip away the last place on earth that humans can find refuge."

"I wouldn't exactly call this nation a place of refuge." The words come out faster than I can stop them, and I immediately regret them. It's against the law to speak against The Guard. "I mean—I didn't mean—The Guard has—"

"Stop." He holds up a hand, climbs to his feet and closes at least half the space between us. "The Guard is the last remaining bit of power humans have. We are the last hope for our kind. It's not perfect. Our soldiers can be ruthless and cruel, and our leaders are sometimes brutal and unforgiving, but The Guard is the only thing standing in the Casters way of enslaving all humans. It has happened in Asia, Africa, Australia, the Middle East, and Europe. Our people are suffering at the hands of the Casters. We need The Guard, even if our Chancellor isn't the best leader."

That's an understatement. Chancellor Munro has torn families apart, divided us into sectors, slaughtered thousands of innocent Casters, and destroyed entire cultures. He is the very definition of a monster, and the type of human the Casters seek to destroy. If The Guard truly wanted to make peace and keep their power, they should install someone the Casters approve of, or at least, someone the Caster's don't despise.

"I'm just concerned that I won't be able to perform. That I won't be able to fight or heal again."

He looks at me with stone cold eyes. "You have done it before, you can do it again."

But I really can't. It's a miracle they didn't sense me the last time I used.

"You do not have to agree. But I do think you should know before you make your decision, that your mother has become ill."

Lightening. Thunder. Ice. They shoot through me. I think I can feel something crack inside my skull. "What do you mean become ill?"

"I didn't tell you before because I assumed you would agree and we'd have medicine sent to her tomorrow morning. But since you are having doubts," he sighs. "I recently read a report that she has been diagnosed with Lung Cancer. If she does not receive treatment in the next few weeks she will die." The way he says it, as if he's talking about the weather or reading something from a textbook, with no emotion or sympathy, it makes me want to wrap my fingers around his neck.

"I want to read the report."

He looks away. "That shouldn't be a problem, but you must know this contract needs to be signed and filed by midnight tonight. It will take me at least a day to find the report for you."

His icy blue eyes do not betray his ice cold heart. Every fiber of my being is begging to hit him, and I can't help imagining what his pretty face might look like after I've broken his nose. But that won't accomplish anything.

It definitely might make me feel better, but it won't help my mom or my sister.

"Fine," I dig my fingernails into the table top, bending them. "Do you have a pen?" I say through clenched teeth.

He pulls one from his jacket pocket and hands it over. I flip to the last page of the document and quickly scribble my name over the line. He takes the pen and the packet, and slips it back into the folder as I back away from him, still careful not to touch him.

"Fritz will escort you to the training facilities tomorrow morning. He has been assigned your personal guard for the time being. I suggest you get some sleep."

He doesn't even look at me as he passes me.

I turn to the soldier, Fritz, a middle aged man who looks at me with detached, grey eyes. All I want to do is scream until the windows in this stupid office shatter, but instead, I head back to my room, and Fritz follows me right to the door, using his fingerprint to open it.

"Thanks," I say, and he gives me a confused look as I step on the other side.

By the time Jackson figures out that I can't practice magic, my mom should already be better. The treatments for cancer only take a few days to work. All I have to do is keep up with this contract until then.