Lux [h.s]

twenty-four

Cora jumped to the side, closing her eyes.

She heard the pole fall and felt the heat of the flame grazing her cheeks, and then she felt cold. The warmth disappeared, and everything around her was eerily silent. She could hear people breathing around her, and nothing else. On the other side of her eyelids there was nothing but darkness.

She slowly opened her eyes, fear running through her in waves.

The pole was at her feet, mere inches away from where she was standing. But it wasn't burning any longer. It was only then that she realised her feet were in a puddle of water. She looked up.

Water was everywhere. It was on the ceiling, dripping down on them. It was all over the floor, on the walls, on everyone around her. It was on everyone, but her. Her blonde hair was dry and so were her clothes, but her hands were wet.

She was trembling, standing in the middle of the silent Pavilion like a lost child.

Then, everyone looked at Harry and cheered, happily clapping and thanking him profusely for the miracle he'd made, for stopping the fire in such a successful way, for saving them all. For summoning water in such a successful way even though they were so far from the river and ocean. There was no doubt in their mind it'd been their King: no other at the Fair had such an explosive power.

But Cora knew it hadn't been Harry, it'd been her. She could still feel the whisper of that power that had somehow broken free deep inside her.

And from the look Harry sent her way, he did too.

He stayed quiet as people thanked him again and again, taking his hands, sometimes even kneeling in front of him in a show of gratitude and deference, only offering a slight nod or a quiet word from time to time. Thalia didn't make a move. She too knew he hadn't been the one to perform the magic, but didn't say a word, letting them believe he had.

Then, when the voices died down, Harry stalked towards her and grabbed her wrist, projecting the pole that had blocked the door out of the way with a flick of his wrist and taking her out of the Pavilion.

"Wait, Harry, stop," Cora said, trying to tug her wrist free from his hold. "Harry!"

The people who had been helping from outside were staring at them, and she knew she looked ridiculous in that moment, dragged away by a completely drenched Harry. She would've laughed at it, if she hadn't been so terrified.

Harry opened the door of his wagon and pushed her in, following her inside closing the door. He pulled the curtain and turned on a candle, and then turned to look at her.

His hair was sticking to his forehead and his dark eyebrows were furrowed, his lashes long and black glued together by the water that was still dripping down his body. There was a troubled look in his green eyes, that sent a shiver down Cora's spine.

"I don't know—"

"I know it was you," he interrupted her. "You put out the fire."

She took a step back, shaking her head. "You're wrong, I didn't do anything."

He took her hand, narrowing his eyes when he noticed it was still wet. An odd scent hit her nose when he stepped closer. She stared at him in the silver light of the flame, panic flashing through her. She felt like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have, like that one time she'd entered his room back at the hostel without his permission. Thinking about that made her want to laugh, now. It'd only happened some weeks before, but it felt like a lifetime had gone by.

"I swear—" She didn't know why she was denying it so vehemently now. She'd never thought magic would be something to hide from others, she'd always supposed she would be able to share it with others and enjoy it if she were ever able to master it, just like everyone else did. But now she wasn't so sure. Harry was thunderstruck, and she wanted to free her hand from his grasp and run. Something was wrong.