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Back Seasons of Chaos Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. About the Author
  68. Books by Elle Cosimano
  69. Back Ad
  70. About the Publisher

I grab my jacket off the arm of the couch and pull the map from the inside pocket, holding it out to her. She reaches for it with dripping sleeves, then pauses.

“Maybe you should keep it,” she says, gesturing to her wet pockets. She slings on her bow as March and Lixue begin to stir. “We’d better get out of here before they come to.”

I tuck the map back in my jacket, along with the two transmitters we took from the Guards. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I glance back one last time, thinking about what Kai said, about how I won’t be able to control my magic until I’m able to face it without pushing it away. I look for signs of my smaze in this place that I used to share with Chill—before we ran, before Fleur, before all the choices that led us to where we are now—and wonder if it will ever feel the same again.

39

Not Cease to Glow

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DOUG

Gaia’s magic stirs awake as I enter my office, the glowing sparks edging away from me as I sit behind my desk. The air inside the orb hums with static, the magic throwing tiny bolts of electricity at the glass as it watches me shuffle through the box of Fleur’s ornaments.

I set down the silver angel and lean closer to the enclosure, resisting the urge to smash it when the light recoils from me.

Gaia’s magic didn’t act this way when Fleur came to the Control Room. The sparks had calmed when she’d walked in, dimming to a soft glow, the magic reaching toward Fleur like the nose of a curious pet, eager to sniff her. Not at all like it looks at me now.

You aren’t human enough to wield that kind of magic.

I shove myself back in my chair, glaring at the orb as the magic settles. Human. Fleur had hurled that word at me as if it had power. As if being human was something to aspire to. As if any Handler or broom pusher in this place could reach inside that orb and take Gaia’s magic. But not me.

The thought of swallowing that bees’ nest again makes me shudder. But there’s no other way around what has to be done. I squeeze my eye shut, remembering the way Fleur’s face had pinched with pain when she’d slid her magic into the broken plant. I’d felt something—not so much a pain as a deep discomfort—when I’d healed the branch in my suite. It hadn’t been unbearable. Nothing like the fire spreading through my chest now. Fleur had said the first step to fixing something was being willing to acknowledge the pain. To suffer through it.