by Kaylin Lee
“You shot me,” he yelled. “Right in the arm.”
I released my grip and dropped another six feet, landing as I gripped the roots of a small shrub that had planted itself partway up the crater wall.
“What— Stop letting go!” His voice was closer. “You’re going to get hurt!”
“Chloe said to get clear.” I found myself grinning at the rocks in front of my face. I dropped again, this time all the way down, and hit the ground so hard my breath was knocked out of me.
Tavar reached me just as I stopped wheezing. He staggered to a halt, his bleeding arm clutched against his chest, his face red and drained. “Are you well?”
I wiggled my feet, then sat up. My whole body felt bruised. “Think so. You?”
Tavar sank to the ground beside me. “You shot me.”
“I know. Sorry.” I was suddenly nervous. I met his eyes as we sat on the ground. The crater wall loomed over us as the storm rumbled viciously inside.
“Not sorry about shooting you, I mean. I did save your life.” I tried for a smile, but my lips trembled. “I’m sorry for what I said, before you left me in the mine. It’s not true.”
He held still, his gaze searching. “It’s not?”
“And thank you,” I added. “Thank you for taking my place.”
Tavar’s stony expression broke into a brief grin. “You saved me, anyway—”
“I’m not done.” I swallowed, then rose to my knees and leaned closer to him.
He frowned. “What—”
“Shh.” I grabbed his dusty collar so he couldn’t move away. “One more thing.” Was I supposed to announce it? “Um … this.”
I pressed my lips to his.
Chapter 41
We were still kissing when someone whooped close by, someone who sounded a lot like Eugene.
The gentle, insistent pressure of Tavar’s lips didn’t falter, but I pulled back, feeling my face heat.
“Ignore him. Ignore all of them.” Tavar brushed my lips with his thumb, his gaze meeting mine with an intensity that stole my breath. “Maybe they’ll be helpful for once and keep walking.”
I found myself reaching for his collar again, but I stopped just short of resuming our kiss and instead let my fingers graze his jaw. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” I whispered. “Sorry it took me so long.”
Eugene reached us first. He clapped Tavar on the back. “We did it!” He whooped again. “Beat those monsters at their own game. Take that, you skinny mages!” he shouted at the crater.
Corbin jogged up behind him and rolled his eyes. “Look at you two, kissing in the middle of the Badlands. It’s like we just saved the continent or something.”
“Bri!” A blonde figure staggered through the trees behind Tavar, lurching into focus as a group of Sentinels followed. “You’re alive!”
“Mom!” I stood and raced toward her, dimly aware that the ground was still rumbling beneath my feet, the vibrations growing ever wilder as the storm raged.
We met each other at a run. She held me tight, her tears quickly dampening my shoulder. “Bri, oh, Bri,” she repeated. Her skin was red and scarred in places, but she didn’t flinch as she squeezed me tight. “My girl. Thought I’d never see you again. I’m so sorry, baby, so sorry—”
“Mom! I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should have run away—”
A sizzle ripped through the air around us. I pulled away from her in time to see two walls of silvery magic shoot up on either side of us, walling the two of us off from the rest of the forest.
“Finish,” came a ragged voice. Elektra’s voice.
I spun, shoving Mom’s weakened form behind me.
Elektra’s visage was almost completely drained of color, her body so insubstantial she floated rather than stood. “Control. Rule.”
The rumbling in the crater reached a fevered pitch. Elektra flung a curse at me.
I dodged, tugging Mom with me, and the ground where we’d been standing erupted into flames. No more torture curses, I realized as we edged back, caught between the wall of silver magic and the fire burning the brush beside us. Elektra just wanted to kill us now.
The ancient mage growled, baring her teeth like a wolf. All traces of her humanity had been lost to the storm. She opened another vial and raised her arm.
There was a shriek, a horrible wrenching sound, like rock grinding on rock. The ground surged beneath us, making me trip forward. The second curse hit the ground between me and Mom, another miss.
“Finish!” Elektra shrieked. “Con—”
BOOM.
A blast of gold shot up from the crater and into the sky.
I scrambled to my feet and reached for my mother’s scarred hand. Was the volcano erupting?
No. That wasn’t lava coming out of the crater. It was magic.
Gold light overwhelmed the sky, then surged downward like thick liquid, smothering us. Warm tingles rushed across my skin in a leveling, heart-pounding wind.
There was a glorious, singing noise, like the land itself was welcoming its magic back, followed by a blinding light so powerful it knocked me to the ground.
Warm, sweet darkness followed.
Chapter 42
A hand brushed my cheek.
Elektra?
I jolted awake and sat up quickly, blinking at the flickering gold in the air. Mom was beside me, her face lit with a satisfied glow. There was no trace of the burns and scars that had covered her skin just moments earlier. “Where’s Elektra?”
Gold coursed through the air over our heads, more gently than the storm had, but just as thick. “Gone for good.” Mom twisted a strand of gold air around her fingers, then pointed at a pale, wispy figure on the ground beside her. “The eruption killed her somehow, even though it healed me.”
“Zel?” Dad appeared before us, parting the gold mist as he sprinted forward. “Bri! You’re alive!”
He held out his hands and pulled us to our feet, then embraced us both at once. The warm, strong hug felt like magic personified, like a glow of comforting gold wrapped in callused hands and a scratchy beard. Was this what I’d been running from five years ago? If only I’d—
A sob came out before I could restrain it. I buried my face in Dad’s shoulder, suddenly trembling like the storm was now inside me instead of in the crater.
Mom’s sobs were just as intense as mine.
Dad squeezed us even tighter, bending over us like he could protect us from our tears with his sheer strength and determination.
“Don’t cry,” he said, sounding suspiciously hoarse. “We made it. It’s over. We won.”
Mom laughed, leaning back and sponging at her wet face with her sleeve, and then her smile disappeared. “What about Alba? Ella? I need my girls, Bri, I need them now.” Her voice broke again. “And I’m never letting any of you go again.”
“Ella is safe, back in Asylia,” I said, wiping my own face. “And Alba is sheltered in a mine with Chloe, not far from here. They were both enervated, but with magic filling the air like this …” I blew away a soft, warm spiral of gold magic that had landed gently on my nose. “They might wake soon.”
We slowly descended the mountain toward the Hollow, the gold waves of magic so thick in places it was like walking through water.
Tavar kept close to my side, our hands brushing every other step until we finally just clasped hands, ignoring the hoots and comments from the Sentinels around us.
“Let me guess,” I heard my dad mutter as he and Mom followed behind us. “He’s in love with my daughter, too.”
Chapter 43
“Why did you leave?” Alba stared at her cards instead of me. “Are we allowed to ask that yet?”
A tendril of gold twisted in the air toward her, and she played with it, setting it on top of her cards before absorbing it with her fingertips. Golden, afternoon light streamed in through the kitchen window, glinting off the mint and lemonburst plants that sat on the sill. Their bright, green leaves and stalks had
grown so rapidly in the magic-rich air, they nearly reached the ceiling.
I chewed on my lip and studied my cards again. How could I possibly—
“You don’t have to say, hon.” Mom squeezed my arm, but I didn’t look up. “Not now, and not ever, if you don’t want to. The past is past.”
Dad played a card. I stared at the pile, my mind swimming with memories and card strategies all jumbled together. I played a card on his. Not the right one, I realized numbly as Alba took her turn. It had been three days since we returned to Asylia victorious, under a clear, magic-drenched sky. Why was my mind still so overwhelmed?
The kitchen was silent for several minutes.
“You don’t have to say,” Alba murmured, still fixed on her cards. “But I do want to know.”
“You deserve to know.” My voice was thick. “I’m just ashamed.”
“You were a child! You made a mistake.” Dad slapped his cards down on the table. “That’s it.” He shot Alba a stern glance. “Don’t ask her again.”
Alba’s chin lifted. “Maybe she needs to tell us. For herself. Ever think of that?”
Mom pursed her lips. “Everyone, let’s all—”
“I was jealous.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly as tight as a crossbow’s string. “No, not jealous. Scared, I guess.”
Alba met my eyes, the softness of her expression urging me on. “Scared of what?”
“Losing Dad.” I cracked my knuckles. “Or maybe needing him too much. I had read about the hidden crater, and I thought I might be better off—safer, I guess—on my own out there, so I wouldn’t have to take the chance Dad would ever let me down.”
Dad’s posture sagged. “It’s because I left for that mission so soon after I found you girls, and you were still getting used to me.”
“No! Well, maybe. But I was mostly fine while you were gone. But when you got home, and you hugged Alba first …” I felt my eyes heat. “And I’m sorry, Albs, it’s not that I didn’t want you to have a father, too, it’s just—”
“I hugged her, and I didn’t hug you.” Dad’s voice was hollow. “I remember. I was just so afraid she’d grow distant again. I wanted to hug both of you, Bri. But I was scared to let her go.”
“So it’s my fault.” Alba flushed. “Because I’m so striking needy. I should have guessed!” She pressed her palms to her cheeks, then stood. “I’m so sorry!”
“Alba! Sit! Everyone, stop.” Mom picked up her cards as Alba collapsed into her chair. We sat in gloomy silence until Mom played one of her cards. “It’s obviously my fault,” she said drily, tidying the card pile.
Dad raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”
“I’m the one who trained her to survive on her own, who taught her to think she could figure out how to live on top of a mountain in the Badlands without us if she could just find the right book.” She looked up at me, a smile playing on her lips. “We should’ve stuck to embroidery, hon.”
I laughed so loud, Alba jumped. “Good point,” I managed, trying to subdue my giggles. “You never even taught me to iron.”
Alba joined me, dropping her cards to the table as she sprawled in her chair and laughed. “No one ever saw us! Who cared about wrinkles?” She plucked her dress. “I still don’t know how to iron. Just throw a bit of magic in.”
“Mages!” Dad chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his beard before dropping his cards beside Alba’s. “Even my sloppiest Sentinels know how to—”
“I’m here!” Ella bustled in, her face glowing and her wavy, dark hair in a glossy up-do. She held up a thick stack of paper and a pencil. “Ready to—” She stopped short and gaped at us. “What are you lot doing? Playing cards in your house clothes, when we are mere hours from the victory party?”
Mom wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks, then went and kissed Ella, patting her bump. “I’ll have you know that we were in the middle of a very serious conversation, young lady.”
Ella looked from her to me and Alba, as we leaned on each other, lost in another wave of giggles. “Sure you are.” She scowled, then called down the hallway, “Wes! Hurry up! I hope you’re full of magic, because they haven’t even started.”
“Full to overflowing.” Weslan entered the kitchen, his face almost completely obscured by a towering pile of gleaming servingware. Gold sparkles trailed after him, clinging to his clothes. “Those crater dwellers must have been holding on to an insane amount of magic. What’s first on the menu, El?”
“It probably took half the continent’s magic just to keep their ancient hearts beating,” Ella said with a grimace. She shook herself, then lifted the first piece of paper from her stack and brightened. “Enough of that talk. We’ll start with the centerpiece—a ten-layer roseberry cake. Pink frosting, with a few white, mage-craft flowers on the top for decoration.”
“Ten layers? Too easy.” Weslan set his stack of servingware on the counter and bowed dramatically. “Let’s make it fifteen, my beautiful, organized wife.”
“You can stack it up to the ceiling if you want,” Ella said, her eyes dancing affectionately as Weslan kissed her hand with a flourish. She caught my eye as he straightened, a gentle smile softening her brisk tone. “The higher, the better. Bri has a few years’ worth of missed birthdays to celebrate tonight.”
“A few.” Mom tugged me up from my seat and pushed me toward the stairs. “Go get ready for the party. Alba and I found you the perfect dress at the Mage Market this morning. I put it on your bed.”
“A mage-craft dress?” I fingered the skirt of my plain, gray house dress. “I was just going to wear—”
“You’ll love it. Trust me.” Alba took me by the arm and pulled me toward the stairs. “So will Tavar.”
“Ugh!” Dad paused in the middle of cleaning up our card game and wrinkled his forehead. “Who cares if he likes it?”
“Bri does, actually.” Mom darted across the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re going to have to get used to it.”
I bit my lip, torn between confirming her words and not wanting to upset Dad. Alba tugged at my arm again.
Dad caught my eye and smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling as he pulled Mom in for a hug. “Fine, fine,” he said to me over her shoulder. “He’s a good one, Bri. Although I don’t think he actually cares what you wear.”
“We’ll just see about that,” Alba whispered to me as we went up the stairs together. “And I hope you’re ready to try some mage-craft makeup, because I brought home six boxes full of new makeup to replace everything the storm destroyed.”
I shook my head, still feeling overwhelmed but light and fluttery from the laughter that had just filled our kitchen moments earlier. “Might as well.” I paused when we reached our landing. “But you’ll have to show me how to use it.”
Alba beamed. “I’ve been waiting five years for this moment,” she said, dabbing at imaginary tears in her eyes. “Try and stop me.”
Chapter 44
The sun was dropping toward the golden skyline outside my window when Alba deemed us ready to make our grand entrance.
“I can’t wait to see your birthday cake,” she said, squeezing my arm. She linked our elbows and led me toward the stairs. “See it and then eat it. I bet it’s going to be Ella’s best one yet.”
My heartbeat felt skittery and light, and my ankles wobbled precariously in Alba’s heeled sandals on the top step of the stairs. “It’s not even my birthday,” I mumbled. “And if I fall down these stairs and never make it to the party, Tavar had better admire this dress on my unconscious body.”
“You won’t fall.” Alba’s tone was confident, but her grip on my arm tightened slightly as we descended. “Maybe you should have worn your own shoes—”
“Alba! Bri! Get down here!” Dad bellowed from the kitchen, then popped his head into the stairwell and grinned. “I knew you were coming,” he added in a quieter tone. “Just wanted to embarrass you in front of your young men.”
“Wow, thanks.” Alba narrowed her eyes.
“Wait … Si’s here already? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Oh, yes. He’s been waiting around patiently in the kitchen, trading stories of the Badlands with your old dad—”
Alba released my arm when we reached the bottom step and sped into the kitchen, leaving me with Dad.
“You look lovely, sweetheart,” he said, then kissed my cheek. “Happy Victory Day.”
“Happy Victory Day.” I aimed for a cheerful tone but ruined it with the shaky, dry sound of my voice. “Tav here?”
“In the kitchen. Looking just as nervous as you.”
I released a short, involuntary laugh and swatted his arm. “I’m not nervous.”
“Oh, of course. Sentinels are never nervous.”
“Exactly.”
We entered the kitchen together as Alba and Si headed for the parlor, carried along by the noisy entourage of Si’s skinny, dark-haired younger brothers.
Tavar stood beside the kitchen table, a crisp, white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his dark-red hair combed and slicked-down. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance, and I found myself smoothing the lacy, pale-green fabric of my dress self-consciously.
Dad left me to greet guests in the front hallway, and Tavar approached. “You look so beautiful,” he said quietly, his throat jerking visibly as he swallowed. “You look like a dream.”
I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, inhaling the scent of winterspice soap and leather. “This feels like a dream,” I murmured. “I hope I don’t wake up.”
Tavar slipped his hands around mine. “It’s real.” He lifted my hands and kissed them, one at a time. “Did you feel that?”
I nodded, sensing my lips lifting into a smile. “I did.”
“Then it’s real.”
“Zel! We’re here!” A feminine voice called from the front door.
Tavar and I stepped apart as Mom whooped excitedly. “Is that Ruby?” She set down her plate and glass, then rushed to the front hallway. “And Chloe, and Lucien, oh, and Professor, you, too? How wonderful! Come in, come in! Happy Victory Day!”