“And someone skilled in knife work to slice up sea monsters.”
“That too. The queens didn’t want either humans or Breenan to get the upper hand over the other.”
“Looks like we’re the right people for the job,” Aidan said. He squeezed her hand. “Now what? ‘Write the spell in living motif, from a plant that brings relief.’”
“Plant writing, that’s pretty clear. Just like all the spells in this garden. I don’t know how we’ll manage that. And what kind of plant brings relief?”
“Let’s come back to that. ‘A connection must be made, between growth and those receiving aid.’ How do we connect the plant to those we want to heal? No one is here in person.”
Gwen’s mind whirled frantically.
“A connection, not their presence,” she said slowly. “Something that belongs to them, maybe. How about Bran’s tracker ring?”
“Yes! Perfect. And Rhiannon?”
“Maybe we can run back and get something from her. She might have an idea. But what about Isolde and the realm? That’s kind of abstract.”
Aidan’s brow furrowed in thought.
“The locket,” he said finally. “Isolde wore it for years, and it has her picture in it. And it was how she kept the realm functioning, so in a way it’s a connection to the entire place.”
“Not a bad thought. I don’t have anything better, so let’s go with that.” Gwen looked to the last two lines of the inscription. “‘Bind it all with powers outpoured, only then will health be restored.’ Powers outpoured—that just sounds like a lot of magic all at once. I think maybe we can do this. If we do it together.”
“Always,” he whispered, and brushed her cheek. He straightened. “So, we need a plant, and tokens from Rhiannon. Let’s talk to Tristan, then I’ll run to Rhiannon while you set everything up.”
Tristan lay as still as if he were asleep, but opened his eyes when Gwen and Aidan approached. His pale face shone with sweat.
“What’s happening?” he whispered, his voice a wheeze. “Did you do the spell?”
“Not yet,” Aidan said. “We need something that belongs to Rhiannon, something that will make a magical connection. Any ideas?”
“Find Rhiannon. Take some of her hair.” Tristan closed his eyes, the energy of talking clearly too much.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Aidan said to Gwen. He squeezed her hand and let go. “Ask about the plant.”
Gwen nodded and Aidan ran up the path. His long legs pounded on the crunching oyster shells.
“Tristan, I need your help. I’m looking for a plant ‘that brings relief.’ Maybe something that has healing properties?”
Tristan’s eyes remained closed for so long that Gwen wondered if he had passed out.
“Relief,” he said quietly. “Find some meadowsweet. It’s a pain reliever. One of the best, when augmented by magic.”
“Perfect.” Gwen nodded and turned to go, then paused. “What does meadowsweet look like?”
“As high as your waist, frothy clusters of cream-colored flowers in season. It has dark green leaves with three points.”
“Hold on.” Gwen ran up the path and glanced wildly around for a plant matching Tristan’s description. There were so many plants, growing in such profusion, layers and layers of flowers and leaves and branches. How would she spot a plant with dark green leaves that may or may not have flowers blooming among all of this?
Pinks and purples and oranges flew by her searching eyes, but none matched Tristan’s description. Once, she saw creamy white and her heart leaped, but the flowers were huge trumpets peeking out from glossy green foliage. Thunder punctuated her pounding footsteps. At the archway, she turned right at random to run along the wall and looked carefully into the garden. The bracelet vibrated with such a frequency that her wrist grew red and sore.
A quarter of the way around the circular garden wall, soft white emerged from deep in the garden. Gwen stopped. Small flower clusters, three-pointed leaves—this was the plant she needed. She dove into the garden, heedless of other plants, and reached the meadowsweet with broken branches clinging to her clothes.
“Now what?” she said aloud. Did she have to dig up the whole plant and cart it back with her? It was awfully big, she had no shovel, and the bracelet jumped on her wrist. She snapped off a large branch, deciding to rely on magic to grow the plant if needed.
She ran back to Tristan.
“Any sign of Aidan yet?” she said, her breath coming in gasps. Tristan shook his head slightly. Gwen turned to run to the pedestal, but paused when a thought struck her.
“Tristan, how would I spell out something with this plant? Specifically, I want to say ‘bring healing to those connected,’ or something to that effect.”
He frowned in thought.
“Grow two flower clusters close together, wrap a six-leafed branch around them in a figure-eight. Just below, grow a cluster of leaves in an upward spray. No more than nine, no less than seven.”
“Huh. That’s—actually doable.” Gwen had expected Tristan to say that it wasn’t possible to tell her how without showing her. “I might be able to do that.”
She flew to the pedestal, which stood as still and timeless as when she had first seen it. The bare patch of dirt at the base of the pedestal beckoned. She knelt down and shoved the end of the meadowsweet into the soil so it stuck upright, waving from the motion.
Now, how to make the plant grow? Gwen scrambled in her mind for a spell that might work. Her repertoire was so limited, limited to a few silly spells that she and Ellie had made up themselves. She wished Aidan would hurry up. Then she thought of the lifting spell they used on Bran. Could that work, modified by her own core’s vitality and the heavy scent of growing magic already present in the garden?
Gwen squeezed the plant’s stem firmly between finger and thumb, and reached into her magical core. Her center burned bright and hot, ready and eager to be released, fully recovered from her exertions on their journey with Bran. She let it leap through her arm and into her hand, infusing the stem with her magic while she concentrated on the spell. Before her eyes, the plant began to sprout. The stem grew thicker, woodier, and the wrinkled leaves with their grayish undersides multiplied over and over. Newly-formed branches spread and reached up to the sky. A faint scent of wintergreen perfumed the air.
Gwen’s mouth broadened in a triumphant smile, but she kept her concentration focused. Now was the difficult part—she had to encourage the plant to grow in a certain configuration. When the meadowsweet reached the top of the pedestal, Gwen poured her magic into the plant. The tips of the branches folded sideways and twisted around the circumference of the pedestal. She stared intently at the foliage, willing it to grow in the formation that Tristan had specified. Slowly, the branches writhed and curled. Two flower clusters blossomed between a figure-eight branch, and a mass of leaves sprouted below.
Satisfied, Gwen pulled her magic back into herself and let go of the meadowsweet. It stopped growing at once and its fullness surrounded the pedestal like a green scarf. The message seemed clear enough to Gwen, and stood out now that she knew what to look for. She hoped she hadn’t spelled out anything unintended in the rest of the meadowsweet.
She unclasped the locket from around her neck, slipped Bran’s pale ring off of her thumb, and set them both down in the center of the pedestal. Her part was done. But where was Aidan? The bracelet thrummed uncomfortably on her wrist. It was louder now, and Gwen glanced up at the gray clouds, sullen and dark once more. She couldn’t tell what time it was under the gray cloud cover—when would the bracelet detonate? Maybe she should try out the spell first, make sure Bran was healed, and then they could heal Rhiannon later.
***
Aidan flew through the meadow where the overlong grass whipped his calves. Rhiannon’s stream wasn’t far, but far enough to necessitate sprinting. Aidan’s breath came in short, sharp pants as he labored up the slope toward the forest. The brooding trees loomed ahead
, their fiery reds and yellows adding an air of vibrant menace to the ominous sky.
Once within the trees, Aidan leaped forward until the sound of running water directed his feet to the right. Ten paces in, he burst through the bushes and skidded to a stop, a dagger pointed at his thigh.
“Oh, it’s you,” Rhiannon said. She sheathed her dagger with a trembling hand. “You might have warned me. I almost skewered you.”
“Sorry. We found the spell, but I need something of yours. Hair or something. We’re going to heal you too.”
Rhiannon’s usually emotionless face melted into an expression of hope, before she masked it again.
“Do you think it will work?”
“We have to try. Cut me a piece, will you?”
Rhiannon slid her dagger out again and deftly sliced the end of her long blond braid. Aidan shoved it into his pocket.
“Wait. Where are the others?”
“Gwen is preparing the rest of the spell—”
“Really? She’s the one doing the magic? Where’s Tristan? He’s much more practiced, with more power.”
“Tristan is trapped in some vines that are squeezing him. I don’t know how long we have. We were hoping that once you were healed, you could release him from the spell.”
Rhiannon stared at him for a long moment, then slid a ring off the smallest finger of her right hand.
“Here, take this. It’s a tracker ring of Tristan’s. We use it while we’re hunting, in case one of us gets lost. It’s usually him.” A flash of fear crossed her face. “Include him in the restoration spell. If he’s being held by the magic of Lady Maeve, I don’t know if there is much I can do to help.”
“Good,” Aidan said. He put the ring into his pocket with Rhiannon’s hair. “I have to go. There’s not much time—Gwen’s bracelet will activate soon.”
“Wait, one more thing. You and Gwen both have magic, but it’s not as strong as a full-blooded Breenan.”
“What makes you say that?”
“That’s what the old stories always say about half-bloods. If you’re to pull off a spell of this magnitude, and Tristan can’t help you, I expect you and Gwen will have to do it together. Combine powers.”
“All right, fine.” Aidan shuffled his feet back and forth with impatience.
“You don’t understand. Joining powers is, well, you don’t do that with just anyone. You need to be close. Emotionally close.”
Aidan stopped and looked at her.
“That should be fine,” he said slowly. Rhiannon shrugged.
“Gwen has some issues about you. She talked to me the other night, about how she feels guilty for making you come to her land, about her fears if you and she aren’t a good match. It might be difficult for her to let go enough to join fully.” Rhiannon smiled wryly. “It’ll be up to you to convince her.”
“Right.” Aidan looked worried. “I don’t know what more I can say.”
“Find the right words. We’re counting on you.”
Aidan turned and ran back to the path. Rhiannon lay back with a grimace of pain to stare up at the shifting leaves.
***
A strangled yell from behind Gwen made her twirl on the spot. She ran back to Tristan and stopped, her hands clenched in tight fists. Tristan’s face was red and he gasped for air. The vine around his chest squeezed so tightly that it cut into his skin, and blood stained his shirt along the line.
“Tristan!” Gwen shouted. She ran her hands along the invisible wall, punching and kicking it, but only ended up with sore toes for her efforts. Tristan stared wildly at her.
Gwen stood still and pressed her hands against the wall. If physical force wouldn’t work, maybe magic would. She dug into her core and pulled out a sizeable chunk of the viscous warmth within. It passed down her arms and out her palms, which glowed with a pure white light.
Moments later, the light flickered and died. Puzzled, Gwen drew out more of her magic. Her palms only glowed for seconds.
“Stop,” Tristan gasped. He wheezed for a moment. “Waste—magic—won’t work.”
“Dammit!” Gwen slammed her fist against the wall. “Where’s Aidan? We need Rhiannon’s help.”
“I’m here!” Aidan crashed into view. He stopped with his hands on his knees, gasping. “Oh, no. What’s happening to Tristan?”
“Give me the hair!” Gwen held out her hand and Aidan dug into his pocket to find Rhiannon’s braid. He put a ring in Gwen’s palm and she looked at him with a silent question.
“It’s Tristan’s, to release him from his spell.”
Gwen nodded and ran to the pedestal. They had all the pieces now, everything they needed. It was time to pour out her magic.
Where should she put her hands? Did it matter? Gwen quailed under the responsibility. So much was at stake, so many people counted on her to do this and do it right. She knew so little magic. All she could do was to pour out her core and hope for the best. She threaded her hands through the prolific branches of the meadowsweet to grasp the edges of the pedestal. Her core simmered within her chest, and she took a large piece of it and thrust it out through her hands.
Her fingers fizzled and sparked, and then—nothing. She turned to Aidan, who looked at her with concern in his eyes. Concern, and something else.
“It won’t work with only one of us.” Aidan stepped up to the opposite side of the pedestal. “Rhiannon said that since we’re only half-Breenan, we don’t have enough power to activate the spell.”
“What? So much for the queens’ unity and cooperation thing. I thought a half-breed would be exactly what they wanted.”
“I doubt they considered a half-breed. I reckon they wanted Breenan and human to work together, but they expected a full-Breenan to perform the magic, and a full-human to understand the inscription. Rhiannon said it’s possible for us to do the spell, but we have to work together.”
“Fine.” The bracelet throbbed insistently. “Let’s do this.”
“She said that we have to open up fully to each other. She said there mustn’t be any issues between us. So, if there’s something you want to say to me, you should say it now.” He looked at her expectantly. Gwen wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.
“Everything’s fine. Come on, let’s give it a try. Time is ticking.”
Aidan sighed, but held out his hands on either side of the pedestal. She grasped them firmly in her own above the tokens.
“Okay, pour your magic into the tokens with ‘pure intent,’” Gwen said. “And try to join our magic together, I guess. Somehow. Ready?”
“One, two, three,” Aidan said, and Gwen stared at their hands intently while she drew out some of her core.
White light from her hands welled out to meet blue light from Aidan’s. The blue light, fluid and agile, flowed gently around and beside the white light, which was a solid, unyielding lump around Gwen’s fingers. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then both lights faded. Aidan took his hands away.
“What’s blocking you?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I don’t know how to mingle magic.” Gwen’s heart hammered in her chest to the pulse of the throbbing bracelet.
“There’s something bothering you. Something about us. What is it?”
“We don’t have time for this.” Gwen’s nails clenched into her palms. The inscription on the pedestal was too clearly visible through Bran’s translucent ring. “We need to figure out this spell. Then we can talk all you want.”
“That’s the problem. We can’t do the spell unless you tell me what’s worrying you. Otherwise, we can’t do a thing.” Aidan grabbed the edges of the pedestal with white knuckles. “Please, Gwen, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Gwen stared into Aidan’s green eyes, wide and determined. Was this really the only way? What did she want to say? How could she say it? It had seemed clear, talking to Rhiannon, but now… She paused, trying to formulate her thoughts.
“I’ve been worried lately.” She swallowed through the thickn
ess in her throat from fear. “I’ve been worried about you moving to Vancouver.” She looked away, but felt his eyes on her face. “You’re coming there for me, mainly, and what if it doesn’t work out? Not that things aren’t great now—because they are—but we haven’t known each other for very long, and if we fall apart, then I’ve dragged you halfway around the world for nothing—”
Aidan reached out to hold her chin in his fingers and turn her face his way. His eyes were serious.
“You aren’t dragging me anywhere. It’s my own choice. I truly believe that we have something special, but let’s say for argument’s sake that it all goes south. Then, so what? I finish my year of school, and then decide if I want to stay in Vancouver or transfer elsewhere. It will be an incredible experience living in a new country, whether or not you’re a part of it. I reckon we really have something, and the more I know you, the more I want to know you. But I do understand the consequences.”
Gwen gazed into his earnest eyes, at the face that had followed her into the portal and through the wilderness of the Otherworld. He was still helping her and supporting her—he was there for her. Then she thought of herself, and the times she had comforted him—when they had found out their heritage, when he met his father… Maybe she couldn’t know the future. But if all she had to go on was this, it was a good start.
Gwen let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Her shoulders felt lighter, somehow, the weight of guilt lifted off them. She wondered why she had been fussing about this for so long, why she hadn’t talked to Aidan before. She reached up and placed her hand alongside his face.
“Let’s do this. Now, before there’s nothing left to restore.”
Aidan searched her face. He must have seen something encouraging, because he smiled and took her hands to place them above the tokens.
Breenan Series Box Set Page 42