Read Online Firehurler (Twinborn Trilogy) by J.S. Morin - Free Book Online
Authors: J.S. Morin
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that his eyes crossed. He blinked and pulled his
head back. It did not hurt and it certainly did not look like fire, but he
could not tell what was making his finger light up.
That is not right at all! Magic never worked for me
before in any of my dreams. I have tried before—many times. It was a recurring
nightmare years ago, the same incantation, performed just as the instructor had
said, yet nothing happened. Other students snickering, succeeding so easily
where I had failed …
Kyrus shook his finger, trying to extinguish the light
as if it was a flame, but it clung stubbornly to the tip of the index finger of
his right hand. He tried to wipe it off on his shirtsleeve, with no better
result. Dumbly, in his drunken state, he thought to light the lamp with it, in
the hopes that it would be transferred and leave him. He pushed his finger
inside the glass of the lamp and held it there, but the glow would not leave
him.
Down the street, another reveler was walking his way,
seeking his home after a night’s drinking. Panicking, Kyrus tried to hide the
offending digit, certain that it would be trouble if anyone else caught sight
of it.
He thrust his hand into his pocket, but the glow was
bright enough that it shone through the fabric, illuminating his pants from
within. He tried covering it with the fist of his other hand, but light seeped
out the cracks between his fingers, casting ominous shadows all about; that
just made things worse. At last, and in desperation, he stuck his finger in his
mouth and was satisfied to see no light pouring forth.
Turning away from the person approaching in the
darkness, he hurried away as best he could towards the shop. Fear had lent him
some relief from the dizziness of the alcohol in him, and he managed an awkward
run, one arm swinging in time with his stride while the other was held up in
front of him, keeping the weirdly glowing finger safely hidden in his mouth.
*
* * * * * * *
He thought it odd that all of the reverie came back to
him just then, but as Kyrus looked around him, the environs in his dream looked
much like where he was right then. The similarity was striking, even down to
the fact that one of the lamps had blown out. Kyrus assumed that the sight of a
street so akin to the one in his dreams must have been the cause of the sudden
remembrance of the dream.
It still seems so odd that for the first time for as
long as I can remember, my dreams have included elements from the waking world.
His head still bothering him as he walked, Kyrus
dabbed again at the wound above his temple. There was only a little blood this
time but as he looked down at the handkerchief, he once again noticed the cut
on the knuckle of his index finger—the one on his right hand. Kyrus felt dizzy
as blood seemed to rush to his head. He held the finger up for a closer look,
then, glancing about to see that nobody was watching, put his finger in his
mouth, just as he had remembered from his dream. He winced as the cut fell
right in line with his teeth. His breath started coming short.
How much of that was a dream? This cannot be real.
There is only one way to find out, though.
Kyrus hurried through the streets, the frantic beating
of his heart causing his head to throb in the two places where he had hit it
earlier. All thoughts of Abbiley and what for a moment had held the promise of
being one of the best days of his life, flew from his mind. He reached the shop
after just a few minutes and burst through the door, drawing a startled yowl
from Ash as he was rudely awakened.
Kyrus tried to calm his breath, for he was near to
hyperventilating. He would not be able to tell for sure until he tried it and
he needed his voice for the attempt.
Hopefully, he thought, this will all just turn out to be a weird coincidence of a
nightmare and a drunken stupor .
When he had finally mastered himself to the point
where he felt he could speak without his voice trembling, he went up to his
room and closed the
head back. It did not hurt and it certainly did not look like fire, but he
could not tell what was making his finger light up.
That is not right at all! Magic never worked for me
before in any of my dreams. I have tried before—many times. It was a recurring
nightmare years ago, the same incantation, performed just as the instructor had
said, yet nothing happened. Other students snickering, succeeding so easily
where I had failed …
Kyrus shook his finger, trying to extinguish the light
as if it was a flame, but it clung stubbornly to the tip of the index finger of
his right hand. He tried to wipe it off on his shirtsleeve, with no better
result. Dumbly, in his drunken state, he thought to light the lamp with it, in
the hopes that it would be transferred and leave him. He pushed his finger
inside the glass of the lamp and held it there, but the glow would not leave
him.
Down the street, another reveler was walking his way,
seeking his home after a night’s drinking. Panicking, Kyrus tried to hide the
offending digit, certain that it would be trouble if anyone else caught sight
of it.
He thrust his hand into his pocket, but the glow was
bright enough that it shone through the fabric, illuminating his pants from
within. He tried covering it with the fist of his other hand, but light seeped
out the cracks between his fingers, casting ominous shadows all about; that
just made things worse. At last, and in desperation, he stuck his finger in his
mouth and was satisfied to see no light pouring forth.
Turning away from the person approaching in the
darkness, he hurried away as best he could towards the shop. Fear had lent him
some relief from the dizziness of the alcohol in him, and he managed an awkward
run, one arm swinging in time with his stride while the other was held up in
front of him, keeping the weirdly glowing finger safely hidden in his mouth.
*
* * * * * * *
He thought it odd that all of the reverie came back to
him just then, but as Kyrus looked around him, the environs in his dream looked
much like where he was right then. The similarity was striking, even down to
the fact that one of the lamps had blown out. Kyrus assumed that the sight of a
street so akin to the one in his dreams must have been the cause of the sudden
remembrance of the dream.
It still seems so odd that for the first time for as
long as I can remember, my dreams have included elements from the waking world.
His head still bothering him as he walked, Kyrus
dabbed again at the wound above his temple. There was only a little blood this
time but as he looked down at the handkerchief, he once again noticed the cut
on the knuckle of his index finger—the one on his right hand. Kyrus felt dizzy
as blood seemed to rush to his head. He held the finger up for a closer look,
then, glancing about to see that nobody was watching, put his finger in his
mouth, just as he had remembered from his dream. He winced as the cut fell
right in line with his teeth. His breath started coming short.
How much of that was a dream? This cannot be real.
There is only one way to find out, though.
Kyrus hurried through the streets, the frantic beating
of his heart causing his head to throb in the two places where he had hit it
earlier. All thoughts of Abbiley and what for a moment had held the promise of
being one of the best days of his life, flew from his mind. He reached the shop
after just a few minutes and burst through the door, drawing a startled yowl
from Ash as he was rudely awakened.
Kyrus tried to calm his breath, for he was near to
hyperventilating. He would not be able to tell for sure until he tried it and
he needed his voice for the attempt.
Hopefully, he thought, this will all just turn out to be a weird coincidence of a
nightmare and a drunken stupor .
When he had finally mastered himself to the point
where he felt he could speak without his voice trembling, he went up to his
room and closed the
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