She was huddled up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while a healer worked on her hands. Flint was by her side, hugging her close. Her hands hurt like hell, but the pain within her mind was much worse. She wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Flint was real, safe, healthy - wasn't he? Was this just an illusion, like the fiery visions in the tunnel of fire?
Macey was beginning to think that the flames she'd carried hadn't just hurt her hands. They'd also seared her mind, breaking open doubts and wounds she hadn't known she carried.
After the healer left, they sat in silence, both lost in thought.
"How did I wield fire?" she suddenly asked, surprising both herself and Flint. Besides the healer, they were alone in the living room. Malan had made sure of that.
"Maybe you
