Ashes Unwritten: Oblivion's Heir [Volume 1 Complete!]

Rowan's first attempt knocked Kess out cold. It wasn't a good way to start, given that he felt too guilty to continue for quite some time after that, in spite of Kess's insistence that she really was fine. The next attempt gave her such a splitting headache that they had to stop for several hours.

Rowan opened the door to his rooms, a cup in his hands. Kess sat on the chaise in front of his fireplace, poring over a book, head in her hands.

"I'm not sure that's going to help the headache," Rowan said, handing her the cup.

"What's this?" she asked, looking up.

"Something to help with the headache, from Claire." Kess froze, mid drink.

"Does she know what we're doing?" Rowan shook his head.

"I told her it was for me, and accidentally left one of the Archives books in her office," he said, smiling. Kess drank to hide her own smile, then made a face at the taste.

"Good," she said. "I feel like enough of a science experiment without Claire's nonsense." Rowan watched her drink, trying to gauge how she felt. Some of that exhaustion from the day before had crept back into her face. He frowned.

"Kess," Rowan began. "We don't have to—"

"We do," she said, handing him back the empty cup, determination in her eyes. "I have to say, though." She frowned, adjusting the sling on her arm. "I'd prefer being knocked out to the headache. Anyway." She set the book down on the table. "I thought you were trying to go lighter this time?"

"I am," Rowan insisted. "Both of these were lighter than what I did last night before Niall visited.

"Then why—"

"I don't know. If I did, do you think I'd have knocked you out cold?"

Kess snorted. "Maybe. Well," she said, chewing her lip in thought. "Last night, I was mostly drained. Today I was full, until you zapped me, anyway." She rolled her eyes as thunder rumbled ominously outside.

Rowan leaned against the fireplace, thinking over her words. He hadn't sent much of his Fulminancy to Kess at all since they'd started this unintentionally the night before. And yet, there had been different outcomes each time.

"Do you feel drained right now?" he asked. Kess's eyes unfocused for a second, and then she shook her head.

"No," she said quietly. "I was close to full earlier, but now I'd say I'm about at half." She groaned. "This is so unscientific."

"I'm not sure science has a role to play in magic," he said, rotating his shoulder. His words hung in the air between them, interrupted only by the wind rattling the windows. Then Kess looked at him, something strange in her gaze.

"But what if it did?" she whispered. Kess darted from the couch to Rowan's desk, headache clearly forgotten. She rummaged around for paper and pencil, then leaned over the desk and began to write. Kess scrawled a crude diagram on the page as he moved over her shoulder to watch. Her handwriting was a delicate thing, prettier than it should have been for a woman who had little need to write in the last few years of her life. Rowan envied her carefully drawn letters, as his were nearly illegible. Years of being a scholar hadn't drilled any sense of decorum into his messy handwriting.

Numbers appeared on the page next to the diagram, and Kess sat back in the chair behind her, frowning at the page. On it, she'd drawn and filled several boxes which appeared to represent their powers. She spoke, filling in several more as she added to the page.

"This first drawing is of our powers last night," she explained, pointing. "I was nearly drained, and you were extraordinarily careful, and it resulted in a simple sense of relaxation." She pointed to the next set of boxes. "This," she said, "is what happened earlier today. My powers were full, you knocked me clean out, and when I woke up, three quarters of it was gone. On this one, losing my Fulminancy was enough of a shock to knock me out, I think." She frowned, tapping at the paper.

Stolen novel; please report.

"And the last one?" Rowan asked.

"This is where we are now," Kess said. She shaded in a few more parts of the drawing, scribbling some numbers in the margins. "I think we're in a state of equilibrium again between our powers."

Rowan took the page from her, studying it carefully. The logic was sound, and the math, while simple, was correct. "That still doesn't explain the headache," he said, handing it back to her. She twirled the pencil around in her hand, much like the knives she was so fond of. Eventually, she shrugged.

"If my guess is correct, it's probably just from absorbing too much of my own power back on the second attempt."

"Your own power? Isn't this exactly what we were going to try with the locket?" Kess shook her head again.

"I think the lockets are a more permanent solution, which is why I want to get this right the first time. What we're doing here is temporary. Though, it would imply that whatever you've got is more than just a Fulminancy dampening power—it's truly your own form of Fulminancy like you and Claire thought. If that's the case, it means that everything we've ever been taught about it is a lie."

Rowan studied her diagram for several moments, trying to process the statement. Rowan had spent a lifetime hated and feared for not having powers. He'd been a tool for his parents, only useful until he grew to be too much of a burden at court. Was it possible that underneath it all, he'd been just as Fulminant as them?

"Rowan," she said, her brows knit together. "How would you describe your power?" Rowan cast his attention inward, where that small well of his power sat. A part of it felt strange and unfamiliar, but everything beneath that was normal. "Dormant," he said quietly. "Subdued."

"Muffled," Kess added, and he nodded.

"And yours?"

"Like it's eating me alive," Kess said, eyes unfocused. "Like pure energy." She trailed off, frowning. For several moments, they sat there in silence, staring off into space. Then Rowan began to piece together what Kess's statement implied. What he had was different from what Kess, Niall, and Rae had. So different, in fact, that it seemed to be completely the opposite of what normal Fulminancers in Hillcrest wielded. Perhaps Rowan's Fulminancy wasn't simply a different element, so much as a different form of Fulminancy entirely. Variant, he remembered from his research.

"Kess," Rowan said, thinking. Kess's eyes widened beside him as she seemed to piece together the same thing. "What if they're compounds? Active and passive, working together? It would completely change the entire field. And if I could figure out how to transfer it to the lights, then I might not need your Fulminancy at all." He began to pace, thinking. "I was wrong to assume I needed someone else's Fulminancy to fix the instability—what's more stable than powers that are mostly inert?" The possibilities opened up to him, wide and endless. It would birth new fields of study, new ways of living and working.

"We won't know if you're right or not until we try," Kess said, smiling. Rowan paused in his pacing to smile back at her.

"What would past Kess say if she knew you were playing with strange Fulminancy?" he asked.

"I imagine she'd be very displeased," Kess said with a shake of the head. She moved to stand, giving Rowan her hand still encased in the sling.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "What if we're wrong?" Kess met his eyes, her mirth from earlier melding into that strange expression she wore the night he tied her sash for the first time. She reached out with her other hand and placed it against his cheek, her touch warm and gentle. Rowan's breath caught, and his heart thumped erratically against his chest.

"Only one way to find out." Rowan took a deep, shaking breath, and nodded.

"All of it?" he asked. Kess nodded.

"If we're right, they should cancel each other out, just like last night." Rowan held both her hands gently in his own, wishing for a moment that he wasn't trying to solve a problem. He wished he could simply be with Kess, with no storm, no shadows, and no wars to deal with. He pushed the thought aside and closed his eyes, concentrating.

Rowan pushed every bit of Fulminancy he had back at her. His hands went cold as that strange power left his body, streaming over to Kess. His eyes snapped open, and he watched her carefully, ready to catch her if something had gone wrong again. In hindsight, he wondered if they should have had her sit down first. But it appeared, for the moment, that Kess was perfectly fine. She wove slightly for a second, sighing, then steadied.

"That's it, then," she said simply. She brought her hand up between them and conjured up a tiny spark of Fulminancy. It was more subdued than her normal lightning, but in it was a white-hot burst of power that suggested it was still very much capable of destruction. But as it twirled through Kess's fingers in an elaborate dance Rowan had only seen his father perform, he realized something—it was a calm, natural Fulminancy—nothing like the destructive bolts he'd seen from Kess before, even after time and training had worn away some of the edge. Kess grinned, her expression fierce and wild.

"You can control it," Rowan whispered. She nodded, snapping her fist closed around the lightning in triumph.

"Yes," she said. Her gaze darkened suddenly. "And it means that everything the Uphill has ever told us is a lie."