Then, freezing that image in my mind, I reached for the magic. It exploded around me, thick and fierce, as if it had been contained for far too long. It swept through me like a gale, making my muscles tremble and the image waver. I frowned, holding it fiercely against the storm of power. The energy began to pulsate, burn, and change me. My skin rippled without altering, but my hair suddenly felt shorter and somehow finer. As the magic faded, I staggered a little, my knees suddenly weak.
Azriel caught my arm and steadied me. "Does it always affect you like that?"
"It's usually worse." I shrugged, locked my knees in place, then gently pulled away from the strength of his touch. "I'm told it gets easier with use, but I just don't use it often enough."
"So it will become easier as the weeks pass?"
"I don't really know." I eyed him for a moment. "Do you really think I'll need to hold it that long?"
"Until we know who is behind the attack—and why—then, yes, I think it very likely."
"Fabulous." Not. I ran a hand through my hair—my now short hair. It was an almost surreal sensation, but one I'd have to get used to on a semipermanent basis, apparently. "Will changing my hair work if I'm still riding the same bike and working in the same place?"
"As I said, the Ania are precise hunters. A motorbike is not a unique object, and it could be anyone under the helmet. Sending them after a particular facial image is far safer." He shrugged. "But we'll know soon enough."
I grimaced. "Hopefully, Jak will come up with something interesting tomorrow, because I really don't want to be sitting around waiting for either my father to contact me or to be attacked."
"We have little other choice." Frustration briefly edged his voice. "Where do you go now? To the café?"
I shook my head. "I'm not scheduled until tonight. I thought I'd go see how Tao is faring."
"He still lives."
I grimaced. "Being in a semi-coma and living a fully functioning life are two very different things."
And right now, Tao was still doing the former rather than the latter. He could swallow food and water, but there was little response to stimuli, and no sense that he was aware of our presence. No one knew when—or if—he was ever going to come out of it. Even the witches at the Brindle—the place that was now the home of all witch knowledge, ancient or new—could find no mention of anyone ever consuming a fire elemental before Tao had done precisely that—and there was no spell or potion to reverse what had been done. We were all playing the waiting game and hoping like hell that he'd come back to us.
"The witches do not appreciate my presence in their sacred place, so I shall meet you there but will wait outside." He winked out of existence, but wasn't entirely gone, because he added, "The black hair is truly stunning, but your natural color is more beautiful."