Out

Ciaran stared. “How did you do that?” he asked. The fire had started too quickly to be normal - he’d seen no spark of flint and tinder; she’d had nothing in her hands when she knelt.

Brenna glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “I’ve learned a few things, here and there. The Holy Men have their ways.”

And suddenly Ciaran knew - he was one of the Holy Men. He could start fires with his mind, just like Brenna, and his father knew it, which was why he’d turned Brenna away, and --

He reached for the fire, and it went out.