The Fiery Heart Read Online Free PDF

were in vampire magic. But like with the Moroi, there was no nod to spirit. It was an only recently rediscovered magic among them, and only a handful of Moroi wielded it. When I’d asked Ms. Terwilliger about it, she hadn’t had a good answer. Her best explanation had been that human magic was drawn from the external world, where the physical elements resided. Spirit, tied to the essence of life, burned within us all, so it was already present. At least that had been her best guess. Spirit was a mystery to human and vampire magic users alike, its effects feared and unknown—which was why I often lay sleepless at night, worrying about Adrian’s inability to stay away from it.
    When Maude finished with the elements, she said, “Swear your vows.”
    The vows were in Italian, since this particular coven had its origins in the medieval Roman world. Most of what I swore to was in line with what Ms. Terwilliger had said, a promise to use magic wisely and support my coven sisters. I’d memorized them a while ago and spoke flawlessly. As I did, I felt an energy burn through me, a pleasant hum of magic and the life that radiated around us. It was sweet and exhilarating, and I wondered if it was what spirit felt like. When I finished, I looked up, and the world seemed brighter and clear, full of so much more wonder and beauty than ordinary people could understand. I believed then more than ever that there was no evil in magic, unless you brought it upon yourself.
    â€œWhat is your name among us?” asked Maude.
    â€œIolanthe,” I said promptly. It meant “purple flower” in Greek and had come to me after all the times Adrian talked to me about the sparks of purple in my aura.
    She held out her hands to me and helped me up. “Welcome, Iolanthe.” Then, to my surprise, she gave me a warm hug. The rest, breaking the circle now that the ritual was over, each gave me one as well, with Ms. Terwilliger being last. She held me longer than the others, and more astonishing than anything else I’d seen tonight were the tears in her eyes.
    â€œYou’re going to do great things,” she told me fiercely. “I’m so proud of you, prouder than I could be of any daughter.”
    â€œEven after I burned your house down?” I asked.
    Her typical amused expression returned. “Maybe because of that.”
    I laughed, and the serious mood transformed to one of celebration. We returned to the living room, where Maude traded tea for spiced wine, now that we were done with the magic. I didn’t indulge, but my nervousness had long since disappeared. I felt happy and light . . . and more importantly, as I sat and listened to their stories, I felt like I belonged there—more so than I ever had with the Alchemists.
    My phone buzzed in my purse, just as Ms. Terwilliger and I were finally preparing to leave. It was my mom. “I’m sorry,” I told them. “I need to take this.”
    Ms. Terwilliger, who’d drank more wine than anyone else, waved me off and poured another glass. I was her ride, so it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go. I answered the phone as I retreated to the kitchen, only a little surprised that my mom would call. We kept in touch, and she knew evenings were a good time to get a hold of me to chat. But when she spoke, there was an urgency in her voice that told me this wasn’t a casual call.
    â€œSydney? Have you talked to Zoe?”
    My mental alarms went off. “Not since this afternoon. Is something wrong?”
    My mom took a deep breath. “Sydney . . . your father and I are splitting up. We’re getting a divorce.”
    For a moment, the world spun, and I leaned against the kitchen counter for support. I swallowed. “I see.”
    â€œI’m so sorry,” she said. “I know how hard this will be on you.”
    I thought about it. “No . . . not exactly. I mean, I