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The door was wide open and a clutter of kabouters was standing in the entrance hall, nibbling on biscuits Malan had apparently provided. She'd not seen the prophet yet, but right now, she didn't care.
Instinctively, she turned to the right and ran up the stairs. There were five doors on this floor, but she knew exactly which one to take.
She opened it and cried out.
Flint was on the ground, blood pooling around his hand which was clutching a fiery red stone. His eyes were wide open but unseeing, rings of flames burning around his pupils.
"Flint!" Macey shouted and fell to her knees by his side. He didn't react. Tears were streaming down his face, his expression was torn in agony, but he didn't make a sound or even move.
A smell of burning came from his hand and it took Macey a moment to see that the stone that she'd thought was red was actually burning with tiny flames. It was like a piece of white-red coal but much sharper and definitely not natural.
This was magic, bad magic.
His skin around the stone was blistering, but Flint's grip on it was tight.
"Flint!" She shook his shoulders, but he didn't react at all.
"Use your water!" Cam shouted from behind her and she stretched out an arm, shooting water at Flint's burning hand. The water turned into steam the moment it hit the stone, filling the air with an acrid smell.
A blast of air dispelled the steam. The stone had stopped burning, but Flint was still keeping it gripped tight in his fist. Carefully, Macey reached out to touch his hand, but before she could, the stone suddenly glowed again, a strange white-silver that blinded her and judging from the shouts, all the others too. She shielded her eyes with both hands until the light lessened.
The stone was gone. All that remained was Flint's empty, burned hand, the blisters black and ugly in several places.
He was beginning to stir and Macey put her hands on his chest.
"Flint, can you hear me?"
He groaned and the sound tore at Macey's heart; it was that full of pain.
"It hurts," he whispered, his eyes still open but looking into the distance, not seeming to see Macey. The flames around his pupils had extinguished, but his eyes looked darker than they usually did. Like embers after they'd been quenched.
"What hurts?" Macey asked softly. Behind her, people were running and shouting, hopefully getting a doctor.
"My magic." Suddenly, Flint moved his head and looked straight at Macey. "It's gone. He's taken it."
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