by Linsey Hall
My head grew light and my soul buoyant.
Birds sang all around and the breeze blew softly through the trees. Magic filled the air, bringing with it the endless possibility of eternal hope. Of victory.
Then it all died, as quickly as it had come.
The breeze faded, the birds fell silent, and the magic disappeared.
Suddenly, I was left feeling cold.
This is enough. The voice resonated with such authority and certainty that it was clear the magic was all over. The grove had given me all it would, or could.
My eyes flashed open.
The dawn light still streamed through the trees, and the space was just as beautiful and serene as it had been.
But the magic was gone.
Iain stood to the side, his expression taut with worry. “What is it?”
“It’s over.” Panic fluttered in my chest.
“Are you better?” His brow was still creased, and I knew that he couldn’t sense my magic the way he’d thought he would when I got it back. I would have a signature if my magic were repaired, but I didn’t. Because my chest was still empty.
There was more magic there than there had been—some of Iain’s and some of the grove’s. I had a bit left to fight with, but not nearly enough to consider me healed.
And it was leaking out of me as I sat there. I could feel it seeping back into the earth, flowing like sparkling light from my fingertips into the ground.
I jumped to my feet, heart thundering as I raised the stone to inspect it.
The crack was repaired. Bright red and gold light glowed from within. Not as strong as it had been—but better. Just like me.
I spun in a circle, frantic to see if there was anything else I needed to do to finish the ritual.
“I thought I’d leave here with all of my magic back and the SoulStone fully repaired,” I said.
“And you’re only partially better,” Iain said.
“You can feel it, can’t you?”
He nodded. “You’re only halfway there.”
“It gave me enough to do what I need to do, but not enough to fix me.” I just didn’t know exactly what that was. “Did you see a figure come to the grove? Hear a voice?”
“No, but it looked like you were hearing something. You tilted your head.”
“Did I get up? Did you see me walk toward the darkness?”
“No. You only moved your head.”
My mind raced. Who had the figure been? Where had they gone?
I would never know. Somehow, I knew it. The grove had given me what it could, and I needed to make the best of it. Even now, the magic was flowing out of me. Slower, since I wasn’t touching so much of the ground, but it was flowing out all the same.
“We need to get to the Tor of the Ancients.” Panic sounded in my voice. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
He strode to me, gripping my shoulders. “But you’re not strong enough. The stone isn’t fully repaired.”
“This is the best it’s going to get.” I could feel it like I could feel my own heartbeat, the memory of the voice so strong in my head. “We need to go. I’ll figure it out on the way.”
“You want to go directly to the Tor of the Ancients?”
“Yes. Immediately.” I debated if we should go get help, but the locater charm wouldn’t take many of us. And time was more important. With the new magic flowing out of me and the SoulStone, I needed to get to the tor as quickly as I could. I just hoped that we’d still have enough to repair the damage that had been done.
“We’ll go now.” Iain reached for my hand, and I gripped him tighter.
The ether pulled at us, sucking us into space and pulling us toward Dartmoor. Because we were going to such a strongly protected place, the journey was harder than normal, making my head spin and my stomach lurch. By the time we arrived, I was sick to my stomach and woozy.
Heat assailed me, and I opened my eyes to find us standing in the middle of a hellish wasteland.
“No.” I stumbled away from Iain, taking in the Tor of the Ancients.
The Oracle’s charm had gotten us here, past the stone wall that protected the tor itself. We stood on the far side, away from the section of wall that we’d crossed before.
Unlike last time, the land was split through with terrible crevasses. They broke the earth into deep pits that belched fire and smoke.
“Is this the Great Burning?” Iain asked.
“No, it looks nothing like this.” My memories of the burning flashed in my mind’s eye. That would be flame, rolling across the open hills. “This is different. The Tor of the Ancients is the ancestral homeland of our people. It burns because they burn.”
I could see them in my mind’s eye now, the fire filling their eyes as their skin turned ashy. Hundreds of them must be affected by now.
The only way to save them would be to return the SoulStone to the Kistvaen in the middle of the tor and repair this place. The magic would be connected to them and should repair them as well.
But the magic that the Grove of Life had given me suddenly seemed too small to fix this. Even Iain’s magic, which welled inside my chest, seemed too little.
“We need to get to the Kistvaen,” Iain said.
“Yeah.” I forced myself back to the present.
The voice in the grove had told me that this was enough. And I knew it in my heart—it was now or never. We had to get the SoulStone back to its home at the heart of my ancestral lands. It was the only way we had any chance.
Except the Kistvaen was hundreds of yards from us, all the way across the tor, past dozens of fissures in the earth. Sparks billowed up from the crevasses, bright and burning. Enough to hurt even me.
“Can you take me?” I shouted to Iain.
Under normal circumstances, I’d never ask him to fly me anywhere.
These were not normal circumstances, and my pride didn’t matter if all my people perished.
Iain swept me up into his arms and called upon his wings. They flared from his back, his magic bursting to life. With a powerful leap, he launched us into the air.
Hot winds howled, buffeting us as Iain flew for the stacks of granite that marked the center of the tor. Incorporeal beings appeared on the horizon, flying toward us from the exterior wall.
They were red and blue, fire and ice—the spirit protectors of this realm. They wouldn’t know if we were good or bad—just that we shouldn’t be flying around the tor. They would attack—especially if we were in the air. If they caught us, they’d tear us apart.
“The Ancient Ones!” I shouted. “Down!”
Iain cursed and flew toward the ground, narrowly avoiding capture by two of the pale blue figures that breathed an icy mist. He hit the ground at a run, and I leapt out of his arms, sprinting across the broken ground.
I drew my shield from the ether, ready for their attack. They lunged for us, then halted abruptly, shrieked and darted away.
What the hell?
There was no way this was a lucky break.
“Something else is coming!” I shouted. Only a bigger monster would drive off a smaller one.
A crevasse next to me trembled as it split wider. Tall, lanky creatures made of flame leapt from the earth. They were at least ten feet tall and made of flickering flame. Blades of fire extended from each arm, and they ran for us, weapons raised.
Iain lunged in front of me, shooting the nearest monster with a blast of water so big that it bowled the beast over. It hissed with pain, steam rising high on the air as it tumbled into a deep crevasse.
Iain had given me his power, but not his gift of water. I could only use it to fuel what magical gifts I already had.
Fire.
Somehow, I didn’t think that fighting fire with fire would work in this case. It would probably just make them stronger.
I needed something else.
The light magic. It had been what had drawn Iain to me in the first place, though I’d used it only once.
You
need to become more.
The Oracle’s words echoed in my head.
I had no idea how to use that light magic—or where it even came from—but it was the only thing I had going for me right now. Connor’s potions weren’t likely to work against beasts like these.
Monsters surged toward us as we ran for the tor, and I could no longer stay out of the fight. Iain continued to get between me and the fire monsters that leapt from the earth, but he wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever. Already, he was covered in terrible burn marks as some of the monsters landed fierce blows.
I called upon the light magic within me, imagining it bursting forth. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, since the first time I’d used it hadn’t even been intentional.
But it had been powerful. If I could use it again, maybe I could fight my way to the Kistvaen.
At first, nothing happened. The magic barely crackled inside me. Even then, it might have just been my imagination.
No.
I couldn’t accept defeat. The Kistvaen was still dozens of yards away, with monsters popping out of the ground to my left and right. Iain was locked in combat with one, so close that his cloak was on fire.
It was all up to me, or we’d both burn.
17
I called upon every ounce of magic that I had, envisioning the strength and peace of the Grove of Life. Envisioning everything I fought for. Everything I wanted this world to be.
One of the fire monsters was nearly to me, so close that I could see the flicker of each lash of flame on his limbs.
Power streaked through me, light raging through my veins until it burst from my fingertips and pierced one of the fire monsters right through the chest.
The monster howled as it was bowled backward, tumbling head over heels until it disappeared inside of one of the crevasses.
I felt the smallest surge of victory. It felt good to use my magic again.
But the deep scars in the ground were everywhere. There were so many of them! Without wings, I couldn’t fly over them. Even if I had wings, the Ancient Ones would attack if I launched myself into the air.
How was I supposed to find a safe path to the Kistvaen? The stone box was located right in the middle of the tor, so far away.
Desperate, I sprinted forward, catching sight of a white blur in the distance.
Puka!
Come on! The little fox shouted. I’ll lead you!
I raced after her, side by side with Iain, who’d managed to put out the fire on his cloak. He kept the worst of the fire monsters away from me, blasting them with his magic. I didn’t have enough power to take them all out. Without Iain, I’d never have made it.
I still might not make it.
Fear pushed me harder, making my skin chill despite the heat all around me. My lungs and muscles burned as I ran.
Twice, I was forced to call upon my strange new power. I had no idea why this one had appeared, but I had no other choice but to use it as I followed Puka toward the highest part of the hill.
When the monsters converged on me, I called upon it, blasting them with a bright light that bowled them over. But I grew weaker every time I used the magic.
Soon, I was stumbling toward the tor, unable to keep myself upright. Exhaustion pulled at me.
“You’re almost there!” Iain shouted. “I’ve got your back.”
He threw himself at a fire monster that lunged for me, taking a hit right to the chest. Instinct screamed for me to go to him, to make sure that he was all right, but I fought it.
If I didn’t get the SoulStone back to the Kistvaen and repair the damage that had been done, it would spread past the tor. Even now, my people were burning from within. If I didn’t succeed, we would all die.
“Transport out of here!” I screamed. It was the only way Iain could protect himself. “I’ll make it. Just leave me!”
He groaned and dragged himself to his feet, drawing his sword form the ether. Water flowed along the blade, a neat trick of magic that I’d never seen, and he charged the nearest fire monster.
He wouldn’t stop fighting. Just like I wouldn’t.
I turned from him, sprinting toward the tor.
Almost there.
Almost.
Every bone in my body ached, every inch of me burned. Puka darted around gashes in the ground, finding the narrowest gaps that I could jump over. Several times, I almost didn’t make it, but her strength seemed to reach back and pull me forward.
Finally, I reached the pillars of granite. I stumbled between the towers, collapsing to my knees at the side of the Kistvaen. The stone box beckoned, empty and cold. It looked like a huge open coffin set into the ground.
Puka stopped at my side.
“Has the fire spread past the tor?” My voice was rough from the smoke and exhaustion.
No. But more of your people are burning. Hurry.
All around, chaos raged, fire leaping into the sky as I dug the SoulStone from my pocket. With shaking hands, I set it in the huge stone box.
Nothing happened.
Shit.
Get in the Kistvaen.
I looked at Puka, shocked. “What?”
Get in the Kistvaen. You’re supposed to be one with the stone, so get in.
I scrambled into the stone pit, crouching next to the stone. I laid my hand on it, then put my other hand to the stone ground, just like I’d done back at the Grove of Life.
Immediately, the Kistvaen began to glow. Red and gold flared, then began to seep into the stone beneath me. All around me, the stone walls of the Kistvaen glowed.
I began to glow.
Magic flowed from the stone into me, making power surge through my veins. It moved from the earth into me, coming from deep underground. I could feel it like a brand, the magic surging into my body.
“What’s happening?” The words came out as a croak.
Puka didn’t answer—just looked at me with big black eyes, confusion on her face.
All around, magic flared.
Hope surged within me.
This would knit the ground back together and drive the fire and flame monsters back to the core of the earth. I looked around, hoping to see it happen.
But magic kept flowing, filling me up from the inside. Soon, I was vibrating from it, power surging through me. Pain flared at my back and arms. My ears burned.
A scream tore from my throat as the light within me went supernova. I was blasted to my back, slamming against the stone ground of the Kistvaen. I shuddered, blinking up at the dark sky.
Magic pulsed through me as I rose, feeling lighter than I ever had before. In front of me, the SoulStone lay cold and dead, shattered into a million pieces.
All around, the tor was still cut through with crevasses belching fire. In the distance, Iain fought a fire monster, keeping it from reaching me and the Kistvaen.
Panic surged, followed by cold fear.
What had happened?
The SoulStone hadn’t fixed anything!
Caera! Puka’s voice broke through my panic.
I looked at her.
She stared up at me with wide eyes. You have wings. And your arm!
Shocked, I looked back, spotting black wings flaring from my back. The edges flickered with flame.
Holy fates, I had wings. No wonder my chest felt so full of magic and light.
Your arm!
I looked at my right arm, spotting a glowing golden tattoo. The sleeve of my jacket had been burned away to reveal scrolled designs running all the way up my arm. They glowed with an internal fire just like the light that had been contained within the SoulStone.
What was happening?
I spun in a circle, my mind racing.
The SoulStone hadn’t mended the earth, but it had mended me.
My magic was complete, flowing through me with a power that almost sent me to my knees.
You and the SoulStone are one and the same.
The words echoed in my mind.
I had no idea w
hat I was, but I must have the power of the SoulStone now.
It was up to me to fix this.
I crouched down, pressing my hand to the bottom of the Kistvaen. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I needed to knit the earth back together—drive the fire deeper into the ground. The magic of the SoulStone controlled this place, so I had to use it.
Nothing happened.
My wings burned at my back.
I needed to do this from the sky.
I launched myself into the air, flying high above the tor. My wings ached and my ascent was awkward and wobbly, but I made it up above the pillars of granite.
From this vantage point, I could see that Puka had been correct. The earth wasn’t breaking apart past the wall that surrounded the Tor, but it was getting close. Deep fissures in the ground were racing toward the stone wall, belching red sparks into the air.
I reached out, calling upon the magic that surged within my chest. It glowed warm and bright, feeling like fire, but also like something strange. Something I couldn’t identify and didn’t have time to explore.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I imagined closing the crevasses in the earth. I pushed my magic toward them, envisioning it as the bright light that had exploded from me earlier. It glowed faintly this time, reaching out from me to the earth.
Slowly, the cracks in the ground began to close. I spotted Iain beneath me, on his knees, burned and bloody. He fought off a huge fire monster, and I tried to focus on the beast, using my power to force him back.
I could feel the monster like a limb—the fire within it called to me. I drove it back, forcing it to stagger toward the crevasse and fall inside.
Iain shouted, his words lost on the wind. He pointed to the sky, to the left of me.
I looked over, spotting one of the Ancient Ones flying for me. I thrust out a hand, using my magic to drive the Ancient One back.
I could feel everything around me like it was part of me. My arm burned as magic surged from me to the earth all around. The ground pieced itself back together, faster and faster.
Black mist began to seep up through the earth, flowing from the cracks that I forced back together. The sickly feel of dark magic flowed with it, making my stomach turn.