Page 24 of Echoes of the Banshee

The oppressive heat breaks as a shadow moves, stretching long and wide across the greenhouse. The air cools instantly, and the fire’s roar dims to a low hum, like a storm passing in the distance. My breath catches in my throat.

A voice, quiet and steady, threads through the silence.

“Breathe, little firefly.”

It seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, carried on the dark tendrils curling around me. The shadows close in. They slip between me and the fire, blunting the heat, smothering the light. Wrapping around me like protection.

Cool air rushes into my lungs. I breathe again, deeper this time. The greenhouse is dim now, the shadows thicker and more alive than they should be. They twist with purpose, wrapping around me like a shroud.

“There you go.” The voice again, soft, like it’s afraid to break whatever spell is holding me together. “Professor got the tree out. You okay for me to let you out of the shadow?”

I nod, trembling. Not okay. But not broken either.

The shadows withdraw and the warmth of the greenhouse returns, but it feels less suffocating now. The tree is blackened, its once-vibrant leaves now charred and curling in the air.

Everyone in the class is staring at me like I’ve grown another head.

I take a deep, steadying breath.

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay, Thea?” Lira is beside me, her voice low and careful.

“Yes. I—I don’t like fire.”

It’s probably not the safest thing to say out loud in a room full of witches, but the tear stains on my cheeks already gave that much away.

“Thea.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “You’re glowing.”

I look down and sure as shit, I’m glowing. The light pulses gently beneath my skin, in sync with the beat of my heart.

Before my anxiety can spike again, Professor Tennant crouches beside me, calm and unreadable.

“That’s enough,” she says to the room. “Everyone back to work.”

No one moves.

Her gaze sharpens. “Now.”

There’s a shuffle of movement, kneeling bodies rising, boots scraping as students return to their work, pretending not to watch. But I feel their stares like a brand.

I glance around. Mavrik isn’t among them. But he has to be here. It had to be him with the shadows. My eyes catch on a far corner, thick with unnatural darkness. Too dense to be just shade. He’s there. I know it. Watching. Waiting.

Why did he help me?

“Let’s get you some water,” Tennant says, leading me toward a cooler tucked against the wall. I pour a cup with shaking hands, trying not to spill it.

Waiting for the reprimand.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I haven’t touched elemental magic except by accident in years, and I’m not completely in control. I’ll work on it. I promise.”

My voice cracks with dread. What if she kicks me out? I can’t go back to Illusions. I can’t.

She studies me a moment too long, then nods. “Then you’ll need to work very hard. Practice. I don’t know how you’ve been keeping it suppressed, but it’s made you unstable.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

My shoulders slump. The weight of it presses down again.