The Shadow Wand

by Laurie Forest

  He’s watching me closely with those predator eyes of his.

  I take a deep breath, determination rising. “I’m ready. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Elloren...” he says, hesitating, serious now. “I need to shield your magic. To prepare you to face Vogel. It will be easier to do if I kiss you.”

  I nod, understanding that this is suddenly a very different thing.

  Lukas slides his hand behind my head, pulls me in, and brings his lips decisively to mine. I gasp as he sends a rush of his power through me, then gasp again as his power tugs hard on my earthlines, wresting control of my branch magic and weaving it over my other lines, his own magic encircling then coalescing around it. To slowly, methodically create a wall, layer by layer, just under my skin.

  Of solid, impenetrable magery.

  * * *

  Lukas and I stride through the center of the arboretum’s forest, our hands tightly clasped, my Wand wrapped in cloth and hidden again in the side of my stocking, Chi Nam’s rune stone in Lukas’s pocket. Our small army of Level Five guards is tight on our heels. My whole body itches for escape, and I can sense the bowstring-tight tension that’s vibrating through Lukas’s contained fire.

  Everything is washed in ruby light, the green illumination from last night replaced with innumerable red glass lanterns hanging from countless branches, suffusing the world in a lurid scarlet glow. Outside the windows, storm clouds hang so low that their bulbous, steely forms almost touch the arboretum’s glass ceiling.

  It’s as if the very sky is closing on us.

  My fireline gives an anxious flare against Lukas’s tight shield as we near the edge of the indoor forest then emerge past it to face down the dense crowd of Mages spread out before us.

  Thunder rumbles overhead as I take it all in.

  The huge glass-enclosed space has been transformed for the Sealing breakfast, all the decor now awash with red accents symbolic of my deflowering, and I grit my teeth against this intrusive tradition.

  Vases of red roses grace the center of every bloodred tablecloth, and ruby glass lanterns hang from the iron stands set beside each table. Even the traditional black silk garb Lukas and I are wearing is edged with intricate, bloodred embroidery, all the red heightened by the dark morning sky with its ominous steel-gray clouds.

  As we enter, everyone stands and breaks into subdued applause.

  My eyes meet Vogel’s across the room, and a defensive fire rears inside me and bucks hard against Lukas’s shield.

  Vogel is standing before the small Ironwood altar from our Sealing ceremony near the arboretum’s western-facing glass wall. An army of soldiers is massed just outside the glass, along with a horde of broken dragons, the dragons’ large black forms facing outward and preternaturally still, like demonic statues.

  My gaze slides to the Shadow Wand in Vogel’s hand.

  My Wand flares to life against my thigh in an urgent hum that I can feel straight through the cloth it’s wrapped in. A sudden pull accosts me, like a cord giving a small yank from my Wand, through my lines, out through my wand hand toward Vogel’s Wand.

  And then my Wand’s tremulous hum blinks out of existence, and the Wand renders itself into deadened, inert wood yet again. As if it’s desperately thrown itself back into hiding.

  Aunt Vyvian and Lukas’s family are seated at a table near Vogel, along with what seems like most of the Mage Council. Behind them stand Vogel’s two envoys, the four soldiers magically tethered to him, and an arcing line of Level Five soldiers, all of them regarding Lukas and me with intense focus.

  Apprehension grips my throat, pulling it taut.

  So many Level Five soldiers, Vogel’s personal guard tripled from last night.

  I’ve an amorphous sense of the powerful magery thrumming in the air, the feel of it like a ferocious storm about to blow through, but it doesn’t overwhelm me. Their collective magic hovers around the powerful shield Lukas wove under my skin, reducing their magical press to a slight, uncomfortable pressure and a static tang on the air.

  Heart thudding, I lower my gaze to the obsidian-stone tile work on the floor beneath my feet, holding tight to Lukas as we stride down the center aisle toward Vogel.

  The polite applause continues as we come to a stop before the altar and I keep my eyes cast submissively down, my breath hitched tight in my chest.

  I can sense Vogel’s malefic gaze locked on me.

  I can sense his Shadow Wand, its power a low, tide-like pulse.

  He seems to have shuttered his magic as tightly as Lukas has walled back his own, no trace of his vast power revealed. For a moment, I frustratedly yearn to possess such control.

  Control that would hand me magical dominance over all the Mages in this room, save perhaps Vogel.

  I dare a glance up to find Lukas’s parents and self-righteous brother staring at me coldly, while Aunt Vyvian looks me over with conceited triumph, all gazes flowing to the hand I have clasped around Lukas’s.

  A stinging flush warms my face. I know what they’re all scrutinizing so intently—the Sealing marks that now flow around both our wrists, our changed lines proof of consummation.

  Angry humiliation flares, running hot through my lines. I feel exposed, used.

  Like their communal plaything.

  Lukas tightens his grip around my hand and lifts it straight into the air, as tradition dictates. The applause surges to life once more, some of the men cheering Lukas on, and I’m aware that I’ve ceased to be a person to all of them save Lukas, who I know despises all this as much as I do. But to them I’m nothing but a thing to be bred on. A conduit of my grandmother’s power, seized for the Grey line. Seized by a family loyal to Marcus Vogel.

  Lukas lowers our hands, and the applause and cheers die down.

  Vogel smiles at me, then at Lukas, seeming charmed by us. He holds out his hand for mine, and I let him take it as I struggle to suppress a slight tremble, his long fingers oddly warm as they close around mine, and I hold tight to Lukas with my other hand.

  I don’t attempt to hide how upset I feel, my lips trembling along with my hand. I know they’ll all read this as proper maidenly anguish—the secrets of the Sealing chamber laid bare and foisted upon innocent me. But, suddenly, I’m boiling with a bottomless fury as Vogel studies my Sealinglines with leering focus.

  This man killed Diana’s family. And standing nearby, watching me coldly, is the aunt who killed my beloved uncle Edwin. These are the people responsible for driving everyone I love East, to a fate unknown to me. These are the people forcing me into an escape I don’t even know if I’ll survive.

  Fire whips up in my lines and rears against Lukas’s compact shield, one violent tendril of flame breaking clear through it.

  Vogel’s lips pull back over his teeth, as if he’s sensed my sudden rush of fire. His eyes flick toward Lukas with approval as he keeps hold of me. “So, you’ve made her yours?”

  Anger continues to lash into a conflagration through my lines, even as I struggle to rein myself in.

  “I have,” Lukas calmly returns.

  “Her fireline,” Vogel says, fondling my hand. “It’s strong. Can you feel her grandmother’s power in her?”

  Lukas smiles. “I can.”

  Vogel’s penetrating gaze falls back on me as he abruptly tightens his grip, his nails digging into the skin of my wand hand.

  I shiver and pull in a shocked breath as dark branches snake through me, relentlessly flowing through my escaped fire and over Lukas’s shield as I’m suddenly pinned in place and unable to push Vogel out. Vogel’s Shadow power contracts around Lukas’s shield, sending a slash of pain through my lines.

  Vogel narrows his chilling gaze on me, then gives me a disturbingly knowing look as he withdraws his probe. Seeming satisfied, he releases my hand, and I pull in a breath of air, my lungs freed from the suffocating press of
his power.

  Vogel suddenly presses his Shadow Wand against my hand, and I recoil in fear.

  Lukas’s reaction is immediate—his invisible affinity branches make a quick, lethal orientation toward Vogel, and I tighten my grip on Lukas’s hand to caution him to hold back his power.

  “It is written,” Vogel tells me, as the wood of his Wand digs into my skin. “‘To be disciplined by an honest Mage is a blessing for his fastmate.’”

  Lukas’s fire gives another savage flare, looping around me with protective ferocity. I glance at him only to find his gaze pinned on Vogel with startlingly open fury.

  Shock cuts through my terror. I’ve rarely seen Lukas’s calm breached like it is right now.

  Ignoring Lukas, Vogel studies me intently. And then presses his Wand harder into my hand. His magic slams into me like a bolt of angry fire to collide with bone-heating force against Lukas’s shield.

  Lukas’s shield sags violently inward, and I clutch harder to his hand, nearly buckling in half as Vogel’s Shadow fire roars over the surface of Lukas’s tightly woven shield. Bombarding it. As if Vogel is attempting to slaughter it into oblivion and take control of me.

  And then he abruptly withdraws his attack.

  I teeter on my feet and would have fallen if not for Lukas’s steadying grip and his strengthening rush of fire.

  “Bring her to me after the Blessing of Dominion,” Vogel says, a fanatical gleam entering the pale eyes he has trained on me. “For wandtesting.”

  Lukas’s grip on my hand and my shield remains firm. “Of course, Your Excellency,” he replies, calm as a storm’s eye.

  I wait, breathless, as Vogel dips his head toward Lukas in solemn acknowledgment. “I’ve arranged an escort. To accompany you to the forest for the Blessing.”

  Fear, like a hot iron, sears into my chest.

  We have to enter the forest alone. Our escape hinges on it.

  “Your Excellency,” Lukas calmly counters, sounding only mildly surprised, “it is written in the Book that the sealed Mages must face the wilds in solitude.”

  Vogel’s mouth curls up. “It is also written that ‘it is a blessing to hold a Mage to a straight and righteous path.’” Vogel flicks one hand, and two Level Five Mages step forward. They look young but tough, and I’ve a sense, straight through Lukas’s shield, of the incredibly powerful air and water affinities that are lashing inside the two of them in a gale-force storm.

  I realize, as a starker fear accosts me, that Vogel has read both my lines and Lukas’s with exacting focus. The affinity powers of these two Mage soldiers are the exact opposite of Lukas’s and mine, with enough water and air between them to dominate Lukas’s fire and blow apart his earth magery.

  I know, deep in my pounding heart, that if I could control my magic, Lukas and I could easily take down these two lethal guards. But Lukas can’t best them alone.

  Lukas’s earthlines tighten around mine with fearsome urgency, as if he’s striving to maintain hold of his magical barrier between us and them. But his efforts are futile.

  We’re trapped.

  And we’re completely outmatched...because I can’t control my power.

  * * *

  Lukas and I step out of the arboretum and into the large, manicured rose garden that abuts the forest greenhouse, the wilds just beyond the gardens and the warded iron gate that encircles the estate.

  Lukas’s fire whips around me with rigorous force as we’re trailed by the two Water and Air Mages, along with an additional four Level Five guards. The army of Mages and military dragons that surround the estate are all magically focused on us.

  The skin of my arms prickles from the tempest of affinity power at our backs as I internally wage war against my spiking apprehension.

  The wind picks up as the low storm clouds overhead thicken and Lukas and I stride down the onyx-stone path that cuts through the garden. The slim scarlet heels of the shoes Aunt Vyvian provided click against the stone, the morning air laden with the smell of bloodred roses. I throw a glance over my shoulder to find Vogel, Aunt Vyvian, Lachlan Grey, and the rest of Lukas’s family staring at us through the arboretum’s glass wall with intense scrutiny.

  A stiff breeze cuts through the gardens and pushes the surrounding roses into a unified tilt as we approach the iron fence. Lukas presses his wand to the deep-green rune that marks the gate and murmurs a spell, then resheathes the wand as he pushes the gate open.

  We step through and approach the rustling line of forest.

  Black Witch.

  The hostile words sound in my mind, riding in from the wilds before us—wilds we’re supposed to escape into.

  Lukas gives me a significant look just before we step into the trees, his fire blisteringly hot and tightly held at bay. Wordlessly, we stride into the wilds, fingers entwined, as Lukas pushes his invisible fire aura out toward the hostile trees in firm warning.

  Shadows close around us as Lukas pulls me deeper and deeper into the woods, practically dragging me now as I struggle to keep up with him on my thin-heeled shoes, our guards close at our backs.

  Lightning flashes overhead and thunder booms.

  After a while, Lukas halts and draws a velvet bag from his tunic’s pocket that contains the ashes of the tree we destroyed during our Sealing ceremony. He pretends to survey the forest for just the right tree to throw the ashes onto in sacred warning, as I ready myself for the ruse we came up with as a contingency plan just before we left for the Sealing breakfast.

  A ruse that will turn the way Gardnerians treat females against them.

  Lukas focuses on a towering Black Oak. But instead of throwing the ashes onto its textured trunk and reciting the Dominion Blessing, Lukas drops the bag to the ground, yanks me around, and grabs hold of my arm as he clamps his mouth down on mine. My feet skid against the forest floor as he presses me against the tree’s rough trunk, and the tree’s essence recoils violently from us.

  I whimper dramatically and pretend to fight Lukas, but he holds on tight, “forcing” his mouth onto mine as he reinforces my internal shield and draws hard on my power.

  I mock struggle against him, finally wrenching myself free. “Stop!” I plead with a beseeching look toward our guards who stand in an arcing row nearby. Predictably, they turn away, clearly both surprised and uncomfortable. And somewhat amused.

  Lukas’s hold on me tightens, his face twisting into an intimidating snarl. “You don’t tell me to stop. You are my fastmate. Shall I take the lash to you like I did last night?”

  I’m trembling, and it’s good. Even though the trembling is from nerves set alight because I know what we’re about to attempt.

  “You listen to me,” Lukas snarls as he leans toward my ear and surreptitiously reaches for his wand. He leans in closer, whispering spell after spell after spell after spell too low for the guards to hear, flooding his lines with both his magic and mine.

  Then Lukas pushes me roughly aside, whirls around, and throws his wand arm out in a sweeping arc.

  Dense vines shoot from his wand’s tip in a fusillade of spears, raying out to impale every guard straight through their heads before they have a chance to raise their wands.

  The guards fall to the ground in heavy thumps, but one manages a sharp, rasping cry that I know will carry.

  Lukas and I exchange one fiercely determined look as I scuttle around the tree to retrieve the sturdy boots that Lukas had Thierren leave there for me. I cast off my flimsy shoes and pull on the boots.

  Lukas grabs my hand, and we set off at a fast clip through the woods.

  A male voice booms out from the direction of the estate. “That way!”

  Fear slices through me as Lukas and I sprint up a rocky incline, rapidly gaining a higher vantage point as we crest a wooded hill. A clearing just beyond two sizable boulders allows us a sweeping view of the gardens below.


  A large number of Level Five Mages are running toward the spot where we entered the wilds, wands raised, several more leaping astride broken dragons and rapidly tracking us.

  Fear crests inside me. “Lukas—there’re too many of them. We don’t have enough of a lead to—”

  A huge explosion booms and rocks the world into nothing but a flash of blinding blue light.

  Lukas throws his body over mine protectively, pressing us both onto the ground, a dark negative of the blast spotting my vision. My heartbeat slams against my ribs as no new blast sounds and we rise and look out over the scene.

  The entire estate and its surrounding grounds churn with bright sapphire flames. Dragons shriek. Soldiers scream as vivid blue flames and indigo smoke rise high into the air.

  I tense and gasp, not believing what I see next. Close to twenty black-clad Vu Trin soldiers stream in around the inferno, storming the estate from its eastern side, hurling stars and picking off soldiers and broken dragons with streaks of blue rune fire and whirring rune weapons.

  Through the dark blue smoke, I catch a glimpse of a Mage soldier throwing out a hard jet of water from his wand. It knocks two Vu Trin down just as the Vu Trin soldier advancing behind him throws a glinting silver star that slices straight into his neck. She darts forward and slashes his back with a sword at the same time that he’s hit by a barrage of silver stars from his opposite side. The Mage arcs back and falls to the ground in an explosion of sapphire fire.

  A ferocious roar sounds above, and I jerk my head up as six sapphire Noi dragons pierce the storm clouds like arrows aimed at the estate, jets of golden fire spearing down to take out the remaining soldiers and dragons.

  I gape at the roaring inferno, astounded. Vu Trin soldiers at the explosion’s periphery shout to each other in the Noi language as their sapphire dragons circle and land.

  They’re all dead, I dazedly realize.

  Vogel.

  Most of the Mage Council.

  Aunt Vyvian.

  Lukas’s entire family.

  Gone. They’re all gone. Everyone who attended the Sealing.