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Cal’s eyes flicker, out to the trees. But he’s not looking at the leaves. His gaze is in the past, to something more painful. “She killed my true mother as well. And she’ll kill all of us if we let her.”The words come out hard and harsh, a rusty blade to saw flesh. They taste wonderful in my mouth. “Not if I kill her first.”For all his talents, Cal is not a violent person. He can kill you in a thousand different ways, lead an army, burn down a village, but he will not enjoy it. So his next words take me by surprise.”When the time comes,” he says, staring at me, “we’ll flip a coin.”His bright flame has grown dark indeed.
