Page 97 of Lakesedge

Inside the tree, the air is full of whispers, scented with petrichor and mist. I hear the voice of the Corruption; I hear the voices of other souls. The Lord Under still has his hand on my chest. And then, beneath his touch, at the center of my heart, I feel the darkness stir.

My magic stretches and unfolds as the darkness is pulled toward him. Sparks dance across my fingers. My power, his power, my Corruption, all begin to twine together. Ithurts. I draw in a tangled breath.

I touch the sigil inscribed on my bloodstained arm. I am here. I have crossed between worlds. I have fought and bled and won. I have been poisoned. I have been taken into the dark. But I can still feel the throb and pull of the spell that ties me to the world Above. The magic is on my skin, inside my skin. Written on my bones, my heart, my soul. I promised to come back, and I will.

I will.

The Lord Under holds me close. We go farther inside the hollow heart of the bone white tree. We go deeper, into darkness stretching endlessly before us. I lift my head. “Where are you taking me?”

He’s a silhouette, lit only by the silver mist that trails infrom the forest. All I can see is the jagged-edged shape of the driftwood that wreathes his pale hair. The faintest outline of his face.

“I’m going to mend you.” He looks down at me and smiles. “Then you’ll go home.”

The juniper light wavers. Everything fades.