by K. A. Linde
A pretty lie spun by the winners, as so often happened in history.
The truth was much worse.
The Society had been ready to bring down the mountains and kill everyone inside—men, women, and children. They decided it was easier than continuing the war with such high casualties. And they even asked the ambassador to the House of Shadows how best to do it.
After her years in Kinkadia, with a daughter and her lover in the Society, they believed she would choose them first. But she defied them all and put up the boundary around the House of Shadows to protect them.
She’d done it, knowing it might kill her. Knowing it would leave her daughter orphaned and her lover empty.
What she hadn’t known was how the spell would morph. Yes, it was to keep their location secret from the invading army. To have the Society forget where exactly the boundary to the House of Shadows was. But it had an unintended consequence—trapping the House of Shadows inside.
And Mei hadn’t meant for it to stay up forever.
Kerrigan couldn’t even fathom it. Mei hadn’t been a talented spiritcaster. She hadn’t had proper training, but she had to be at least twenty years older than Kerrigan, and she hadn’t lost her mind yet. Why then was Kerrigan suffering from this magic sickness so young? Why then was she stuck here?
She turned around again. She was still on the spirit plane. Still stuck in her head. She tried to drop back down into her body, but the drop never happened. Her body was unresponsive. Scales!
Never before had she been unable to find her way out of the spirit plane. It had become such an easy shift that she could almost pop in and out effortlessly. Why then could she not move?
She tried again and again with no success.
Eventually, she gave up. She wasn’t getting anywhere with that. She might as well explore this world.
The spirit plane usually appeared to her as clouds, as if she were walking on high. When working with Zina, she’d been able to step out of her body and look down at it, but she preferred this visage when she did it herself. It was comforting to soar above the clouds. As if she were flying. No need for a dragon at all.
She pushed off from the cloud and found that she could soar instead of walk. She hovered over the clouds with her hands in the air and kicked out like she was swimming. She propelled forward, staring down at the clouds, rolling over to see the sky far above. The sun beat down on her face. It was a perfect day.
And yet, it wasn’t.
“Hello?” she called out.
She thought she had seen a flash of black against the sky. Almost like a bird. But she’d never seen anything else on this plane. Just herself.
“Is something out there?”
She didn’t see anything, but she couldn’t shake the unease. She couldn’t escape the plane. She didn’t want to find out if something else was here.
Still, she was too curious to ignore it. She pushed off a cloud and soared toward the speck she had seen only a moment ago. But as she came around another cloud, she didn’t find anything at all.
Kerrigan crossed her arms and landed on the cloud, puzzled. She turned in a full circle. She’d been certain there was something. Then, just as she finished her turn, a raven appeared. She gasped, putting her hand to her chest. It had come out of nowhere. Just popped into existence before her face. It tilted its head and cawed.
Kerrigan stepped back. She’d been helped by ravens on the spirit plane during the tournament, but that didn’t mean anything. It hardly meant this one would be friendly.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
The raven cawed again. And then it rushed at her. She screamed, running backward, but in an instant, there were hundreds of ravens cawing and flying straight toward her. She screamed as their bodies connected with hers, and the cloud around her collapsed. Her scream turned shrill as she fell through the open sky. Seconds ago, she’d had complete control over the clouds and flying, and now, she could do nothing but fall.
She broke through the last cloud and realized she was plummeting toward a distant ground. Rolling hills and a far-off forest dotted the landscape she was hurtling toward. She’d never seen this before. She didn’t know where in Kinkadia this was. But she didn’t particularly want to find out what would happen if she landed. If she was injured in the spirit plane, would she die here?
She gasped and threw every ounce of air magic she had out to cushion her fall. It did nothing, of course. There was no magic in the spiritual plane. Nothing at all to save her.
Her fear clouded her mind, and the ground was getting closer and closer. She was going to die. Oh gods, save her!
No, she couldn’t go out like this. The ravens were still at her side. No longer touching her, but soaring toward the ground, as if this were completely normal. She remembered Gelryn’s words a year ago when she’d first entered the plane. If she was in the plane, it belonged to her. It listened to her command alone. This was her circus.
Kerrigan closed her eyes and drew in her magic, as she would in the physical world. Then, she pushed not with the air magic, but with the very essence of self. Something shifted, small but malleable. She drew on it until it became almost solid. Then, she grabbed it with both hands and pulled.
She jerked to a full stop. Her ears were ringing, and all of her hair whipped forward around her face. Her heart beat a staccato in her chest. Even though this wasn’t real, it felt more real than reality.
Slowly, she peeled her eyes open and found she was a mere foot from the ground, held aloft on her stomach by the spirit magic she had conjured out of thin air. She gasped, and the magic dissolved. Then, she clumsily toppled forward onto the ground.
“Ugh,” she groaned.
“Impressive,” a voice drawled.
Kerrigan stumbled hastily to her feet and found a woman standing before her. She was easily six feet tall with white-blonde hair, braided like a crown around her head. She wore sturdy, scholarly attire but of high quality with a crimson sash across her chest with three slashes across the front.
“Who are you?” Kerrigan demanded.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Kerrigan.”
The woman stared her down. “And are you the one making all the noise around here?”
Kerrigan blinked. “I… well…”
“Shouldn’t you be in schooling?”
“Schooling? No, I’m seventeen.”
The woman sighed. “So, you’re from the country then? Don’t know the first thing about how to get to the academy?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh Lords, help me,” she said, crossing her arms. “What backward town are you from that you don’t even know about the academy?”
“What? I’m from the city.”
The woman walked a pace around her. “Don’t seem like a city girl to me.”
“Why are you on my spiritual plane?” Kerrigan demanded.
“My ravens brought you onto mine, girl,” the woman grunted. “You’ve been irritating me for nearly a year in this place. I finally got sick of it when you used enough crux to level a mountain.”
“Crux?” Kerrigan asked in confusion.
“You’re a spiritcaster, right?”
“I… yes?”
“Well, who has been teaching you?”
“No one,” Kerrigan said. “I’ve been kind of doing it on my own.”
“Emperor on high,” the woman said, looking skyward. “No wonder you’ve been so loud. We need to get you to Rhithymna as soon as we can. If you have no parental standing, it’ll be hard to get you into Himera, but I’ll do my best.”
Kerrigan blinked. “Can we back up? What in the gods’ names are you talking about? Who are you? What is Rhythm-uh-whatever?”
The woman stilled completely. It wasn’t until that moment that Kerrigan noticed how much she had been fidgeting, shifting her hips, tapping her foot, adjusting her clothing and the like. “Where are you? What city?”
“Ki
nkadia.”
She furrowed her brow. “Huh. Well, I guess that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why you weren’t found earlier.”
“Found?”
“I’ll begin at the beginning. I’m Professor Cleora. I teach theoretical casting at Emperor’s Academy in Himera College. I specialize in spiritcasting. Though there are so few of us anymore that much of my job is giving a more theoretical basis to the spiritual.”
Kerrigan’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what any of that means.”
“Obviously,” Cleora said. Her brown eyes lit up, and she began to pace back and forth. “The answer is clear. If all possibilities exist on a plane, then it only makes sense that they could bisect without direction.”
Kerrigan tilted her head. “What?”
She turned to Kerrigan, as if just remembering she was there. “It was all purely theoretical, but all good theories are rooted in fact. Yes. Yes. You and I are from different worlds.” Cleora said it so simply, as if the fact wasn’t life-shattering.
“Different… worlds,” Kerrigan said slowly. “Like you’re from Eleysia over the ocean?”
Cyrene had crossed from Eleysia to Alandria.
“No, child. There are no oceans to cross, but dimensions.”
Kerrigan shook her head. “I don’t understand. You mean, you’re on a different planet? Like in the stars?”
“Close enough,” Cleora said, tapping her hand against her side. “Yes. See, the spiritual plane isn’t flat, like this.” Cleora drew a line in the ground before them. “It’s not flat like the physical world. It’s more like this.” She drew three circles around the line, as if each were teetering on an axis. “So, you could be here”—She pointed to one spot in one circle—“and I could be here”—and then a point in another circle—“and we could still meet.”
“Okay,” Kerrigan said disbelievingly.
Cleora wiped the image away. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t expect you to understand advanced theoretical casting. Most of my doctoral students don’t understand it.” She waved her hand. “What’s important is that you can now get your crux under control so that you’re not so noisy when I’m working.”
“My crux?”
“Is that not what you call it in your world? Magic, spirit, root, essence, chi, frippery. Whichever word you want to use. Most have gone out of fashion, and crux is the most accurate anyway.”
“So, wait, what you’re saying is that you can teach me spiritcasting?”
“Teach you? Well, of course I can.”
Kerrigan nearly did a twirl.
“If you come to Rhithymna, I’ll enroll you, and we can get to work.”
Kerrigan’s heart fell. “But you said we existed in different worlds. Can’t we meet here?”
Cleora was already shaking her head. “No, that’s impossible. Teaching you here would only give you a sliver of your education. You can only reach the smallest amount of crux on the plane, such as manipulating centri—”
“I’m dying,” Kerrigan cut her off. “I have what we call magic sickness. My magic is poisoning my blood because I have too much of it and can’t use it.”
“That presents a problem.”
“If I don’t figure out how to use my magic, then I’ll die. I’d love to come learn crux from you, but I need to survive first to do it.”
Cleora circled her once more before sighing. “Fine. We can meet here once a month at the lunar apex.”
“A full moon? Are you sure it’s the same time frame in my world as yours?”
“My lunar apex is in seven days, and yours?”
“Same,” Kerrigan said with relief.
“Then, it’s settled. You will cease to be so annoying and loud while I’m practicing, and we will meet every thirty turns to keep you that way. Now, go on.”
“Wait,” Kerrigan said before she could go. “Do you have dragons where you live?”
Cleora wrinkled her nose. “Of course we have the beasts. Hard thing to train they are.”
Kerrigan didn’t know what that meant. The hard part was training the riders, not the dragons. The dragons did all of that themselves.
“Do you have bonding and dragon riders?”
Cleora shrugged. “Of course.”
“My bond failed with my dragon. I don’t know what I did wrong. Do you think it has something to do with my spiritcasting? Or can you help me work on the bonding?”
“I’m confused,” Cleora said. “You bond yourself to the dragon? How barbaric!”
Kerrigan winced. “That’s… that’s not how it’s done by you?”
“Certainly not. The greatest among us use a coupling. They reach with their crux and hold a dragon with sheer force of will.” She shook her head. “But only the emperor and their lot are that powerful. Most use a crux bond.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a way to control the beasts without the massive amount of crux necessary for a true coupling. My brother is a dragon trainer, and his crux bonds are superior to all others. He’s even tied some for officers to use. If you have sufficient magic, you can create a crux construct like so.” Cleora used her spirit magic, and suddenly, a golden light appeared before her hands. She stretched it out until it made a long, thin line. “This is spiritcasting, but you can do it with other forms of crux. Just in the liminal space, you wouldn’t physically be able to see what I’m doing. From here, you tether the crux bond to your dragon. It puts you in charge of the beast, and once you are through, you remove it quite like any other creature. Just make sure the beast is tied down before removing it. You don’t want an accident.”
Kerrigan wanted to try it and also feared it terribly. The way Cleora talked about dragons, she most certainly was from a different world. She talked about them as if they were just larger horses. Like they had no thoughts or feelings. Just animals to their core. Nothing at all like Tieran or any of the other wonderful dragons she knew.
But if what Cleora had said was true? Then, Kerrigan could crux-bond with any dragon she wanted at any time. There would be no need for an individual bond. Which was both exhilarating and incredibly invasive. She could never imagine taking Netta away from Fordham or Tavry from Helly. They were bonded for a reason.
“Go on, try. I know it’s different where you’re from, but here, even littlings can create a construct.”
Kerrigan nodded and reached for the spirt magic—crux—within her. Found the space where she’d saved herself from the deadly fall and pulled a speck of gold light out.
“Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Kerrigan shook her head. “No. It was almost easy.”
“Easier off the plane too. Now, stretch it.”
Kerrigan pulled her hands apart, and the light flickered and stretched slowly at first and then with gusto.
“Good. Good. Now, this is the important part. You must focus your intention on the bond. It is malleable and can bend to your will. So, you want to focus on it becoming a crux bond. You want to be in control of your dragon with all the proper properties. My brother’s bonds are exceptional because his intention has been developed over the years. I could probably write an entire series of books on the importance of intention, but we only have right now. So, try that.” Then, abruptly, Cleora turned away from her. “Lords, I must get back. Time is a slippery thing on the plane.”
“Wait… what do I do now?”
“Tether it to your dragon. Once it’s in place, they will follow your command until you remove it. If you’re not in a place to attach the bond, I’d suggest running for cover. Dragons will always kill before allowing a bond. Good luck. I will see you in seven turns.”
Then, Cleora popped out of existence as if she never were.
Kerrigan still held the crux bond in her grip. Could this actually work with Tieran? The bond was supposed to go both ways. Not leave her in complete control. Wherever Cleora was from, they must have different kinds of dragons because she could
never use sheer force of will to hold any dragon, least of all Tieran.
She dropped her hands, the crux disappearing as easily as Cleora had. She’d found a spiritcaster teacher. Not the one she had been expecting. But nothing since the tournament had first started had been expected. At least if she had a teacher, she’d be able to use her spiritcasting and not have that magic poisoning her.
If she could just get out of here.
She took a deep breath and released it gently. Yes, she was ready. The world was waiting. No more lingering here.
She dropped. This time, the plane released her, and she fell into her body.
54
The Awakening
Kerrigan woke to darkness. Her head pounded, and her throat was dry. Her stomach seized, as if she hadn’t eaten anything in days. And though her magic felt tapped, the first press of it began to rise when called, reassuring her that she hadn’t lost it entirely.
She had no idea where she was. She’d passed out at Dozan’s and ended up in a fine bedroom that would never be found in the Wastes. She snapped her fingers—old habits die hard—and a weak flame appeared in her palm. Clover lay, curled up in a chair across the opulent room. She’d here before. They must have brought her to Helly after she blacked out.
“Clover,” she rasped, not quite trusting her feet under her yet.
Clover jumped straight out of the chair. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“You were, but it’s fine.”
Her eyes widened, and she gasped, “Kerrigan! You’re awake.” Clover flung herself onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her. “Thank the gods, you survived.”
Kerrigan patted her on the shoulder. “Uh, yeah, I’m alive. Fully intact. Though a little worse for wear on my magic.”
“Red,” Clover said carefully, “you were out for three days.”
“Oh,” Kerrigan said. It had only felt like a matter of hours at most. Had she been in the spirit plane all that time? “Wow. I guess that’s why I’m so hungry.”