The only thing Ciaran was interested in trying again was lighting a fire by thinking about it. He’d actually done it, hadn’t he? But he accepted the sword from Brenna and ducked out of her cave, hurried along the beach. On the way, he paused and scooped up some driftwood, and as he crossed the grass he scooped up some twigs for kindling as well.
While his father slept, he could experiment. Because that would make sense, wouldn’t it? His father forbidding him from ever starting a fire because he could it with his mind.
Ciaran settled in to experiment.
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