Read FoM02 Trammel for Free Online Page A

provocation. Lindsay could feel it pressing at Noah’s seams and aching to tear Noah apart. The magic, Lindsay could handle, but he had no idea what to do with all that self-hatred eating Noah from the inside out, except to let it burn itself out with the fire that was filling the pool and creeping up the walls.
    Noah looked at him, through the fire and the distance, and his eyes were like blue stars lit with fire from within. For a moment, Lindsay could see into them and he saw what was behind them. It was too much information, too many images at once for him to put them in order or assign them significance, and then Noah closed his eyes again. He pushed his hands out to ward something off and Lindsay heard as much as felt the word, “No.”

    The rush of power that followed was like a nuclear warhead hitting ground zero where Noah stood.
    Utter devastation rolled outward, devouring and furious fire. Instead of losing strength, Noah simply became stronger, like the fire. He could see through the fire, see what the fire saw, feel what the fire felt.
    Everywhere the fire was, he was, raging from that endless wellspring of pain and fury that was somehow contained under his skin.
    Finally, he found something of a limit. The fire became too immense and broke off into non-sentient, mundane infernos. If they hadn’t been illusions, the destruction would have continued unabated.
    Noah began to withdraw. Lindsay could feel him pulling back the power, extinguishing those seedling fires, reining all of it in until only the room they stood in roared like a furnace. Then that was gone, between one breath and the next. The fire was out. Almost out.
    Everywhere that Lindsay could see, the ruined space had become a garden. A garden of molten gold climbing roses, with rustling leaves and delicate tendrils that clung to the remains of the walls and ceiling and floor. From the shadows, sparks fell like tiny stars, a light rain of fire, and each star burst against the ground before it faded away. When a tentative breeze sighed through the building, the entire garden breathed with it, and roses—in every color of fire—began to bloom.
    All that rage and power and still Noah had this inside him. He was scarred and burned and broken, incredibly fragile, but beautiful, too. Lindsay wanted to call him back, to draw him in and soothe away the burns until this took the place of the anger running wild under Noah’s skin.
    “They’re almost a weed.” Noah walked toward Lindsay, his steps slow and lazy. He looked more at peace than Lindsay had seen before. “They grow everywhere. But they have magic of their own. If you have the sight, you can see it at the right hour, though you might think it was a trick of the light.” He opened up his ruined hand and a rose unfolded there. The petals spread, growing into delicate wings, and it flew away. All the fires faded into nothing as it soared into the dark. “Have I done well?”
    The fire might not have been real, but making it had left Noah sleek with sweat. Rivulets tracked down his bare chest, skirting his wounds and skating along his scars to soak the waist of his pants. It wasn’t just his magic that was beautiful. But Lindsay couldn’t touch him. He was too fragile.
    Lindsay held out his hand. “Time to come back now, Noah.”
    “You should put the barre on me.” Noah took Lindsay’s hand tentatively; his fingers sliding against Lindsay’s palm made him shudder convulsively and he swallowed hard, as though he were nauseated. Fire sputtered along the sweat lines on his chest. “There are times...” He closed his eyes. “I forget. And then I remember again. All the time.”
    “I can’t.” Lindsay wouldn’t apologize for it. The thought of it made him want to scrape his own scars raw. He had to give Noah something, though, some way to hold the fire at bay. “But I can do this. I can keep you from touching the magic, if that’s what you need. For the night, at least. You need to