Nevis shifted his weight. “I came here to warn you. You were so busy looking east, I figured you hadn’t noticed…”
Leo turned his head sharply to the west. Across the horizon, there was a dark strip. A storm.
Instantly his body grew tense. His nerves hummed with the familiar mixture of dread and anticipation. Dread for the pain that would come. Anticipation for the power.
Nevis gave him a worried look. “Hopefully, there won’t be any lightning.”
“Hopefully, there will.”
“Dammit,” Nevis muttered. “Do you enjoy courting death?”
“Of course not. But it’s been four months since the last lightning storm. My power is seriously depleted.” Leo glanced down at his gloved hands. “I could probably touch someone now.”
“Good. You could live a normal life for a change.”
“I am not normal. I never will be.”
“You’ve never tried!” A gust of wind blew Nevis’s hair back from his brow, revealing the jagged scar.
Leo gritted his teeth. “There is no escape from it. I’ve tried hiding in houses, castles, even dungeons. It never works. When the lightning comes, it always finds me. It burns down houses and destroys buildings to get to me.”
“How about a cave? That might work.”
“Enough!” Leo clenched his fists, then slowly released them. “I am what I am.” A monster. “At least my power scares everyone so much that no one has tried to kill me for being Embraced. Others are not so fortunate.”
“It has caused you too much pain.”
“And it’s kept me alive. There have been many times in battle when my power saved my ass. Yours, too.”
“I know,” Nevis grumbled. “I’m grateful for that. But it pisses me off that you keep taking in all that power so you can protect people, and do they ever thank you? No! They run away from you and call you names.”
Leo arched a brow. “So I should let them die? It is my job to protect the people of Eberon.”
“At what cost? Each time the lightning finds you, you take in more power than before. More power than you can handle. One day it’ll be too much, and you’ll—”
“Burst into a ball of fire,” Leo interrupted him. “I’ve heard it before. Maybe I should consider myself lucky. Doesn’t everyone want to go out in a blaze of glory?”
“You think it a jest?”
“I think it a theory. You have no proof—”
“So I’m supposed to wait till you explode so I can say I told you so?” Nevis gave him an incredulous look, then with a resigned sigh, he shook his head. “Dammit, Leo. I’m just trying to keep you alive.”
“I know.” Leo didn’t want to admit that deep inside, he suspected Nevis’s theory was correct. But there was nothing he could do. Whenever there was lightning, it sought him out. It burned its way through wood, clawed its way through stone to find him. Since there was no escape, all he could do was accept it. And use the power to protect his people.
He dragged his gloved fingers through his hair. Already, he could feel his scalp itching as the storm approached. His curly red hair would eventually stand out, the strands crackling with energy as if they were calling the lightning to him.
Nevis sighed. “I don’t know which will kill you first—the lightning or the king. You’re going to be in big trouble, you know. Disregarding his orders. Again.”
Leo shrugged. He’d decided it was more important to protect the country than go to court to meet his latest betrothed. The last woman his uncle had chosen for him had run away to Tourin, preferring the life of a poor refugee rather than marriage to the Beast of Benwick. “Why should I bother to please the king? He’s wanted me dead for years, and nothing will change his mind.”
“He’s a royal pain in the ass,” Nevis mumbled. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
Nevis sniffed the air. “I smell dinner. I’ll see you later.” He dashed down the hill toward the commissary.
Leo smiled. Nevis never missed a meal. Nevis’s father, General Harden, was almost finished setting up camp. After losing both his parents at the age of eight, Leo considered the general a second father. A harsh father, since the general had always known Leo would have to excel as a soldier if he wanted to survive. The general had pushed him and Nevis so hard that by the age of nine, they were calling him General Hard-Ass in private.
The years had been rough on the general, too. He walked with a limp, thanks to an ax that had badly gashed one leg in battle. A jagged red scar ran the length of his face, bisecting an eyebrow and puckering the skin of his cheek before disappearing into his thick gray beard.
Once, at the cocky age of thirteen, Leo had boasted that they could track a foe at night if the general would only remove his helmet, for his shiny, bald head glowed in the moonlight. Most soldiers were afraid to touch Leo, but General Hard-Ass had not hesitated to box his ears.
Good times, Leo thought, then shifted his gaze to the ever-growing dark strip at the horizon. Already, the wind from the west was picking up. He could see the flags flapping briskly from the tops of tents where the army had set up camp. Above him, the clouds were filling up the sky, hiding the sun and making the fields appear a darker, more emerald green.
He would need to be alone when the lightning came. Over the years, he’d learned that many times when the lightning struck him, it splintered, shooting off jagged shards in all directions. It was how Nevis had received his scar. Most who came too close were killed.