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“Nyx thinks such things as flesh wounds are beneath him,” Kiera chided, coming over to the bench and handing me the pot of ointment with a pointed glare.

I rolled my eyes and took it, going to the wash basin and rinsing my hands before dipping my fingers in the pot and quickly rubbing the cream between my palms.

“There.” I returned to where Zaria and Kiera were inspecting the pendant.

Kiera shook her head at my petulance.

“It burned Nyx when he touched it. It’s only ever been warm for me, but when we were trying to break the chain to get it off, it burned us both like it was fighting us off.”

“Hmm.” Kiera tentatively touched it at first and then with more purpose. She picked it up and looked closely, then held it up to the light. “What’s inside?”

“Sand,” Zaria replied.

“From where?”

“I don’t know. It represents the sand on the Shores of Avalon. I always assumed it was regular sand. It’s only symbolic.”

“You think the sand is the problem?” I asked.

“Could be. It could be spelled, or it might contain something else. There’s only one way to find out.” She tried twisting the top, but I suspected that would be too easy after the fight to break the chain.

I was right.

Then she paused, inspecting the engraving on the top of the vial. She set it down and wordlessly went to a bookshelf, pulling on a large, old volume and bringing it back to us. She heaved it open, flipping through pages until she found the section she needed. Her ability to catalogue information in her mind and know where to access everything she needed in a moment always impressed me. Proving her skill, she flipped a couple more pages and ran her finger down a list of symbols. She stopped, tapped a symbol, read the line beside it, and muttered to herself.

Zaria looked at me, and I shrugged.

“Let her work, Sol. She’s the best at this.”

Abruptly, Kiera took the pendant and placed it in the large stone bowl she used to make many of her treatments. She took some parchment and a pen and scribbled an intricate symbol. Then she dropped the parchment onto the pendant, added some purple leaves, and set light to it using her magic.

The leaves and parchment burned hot and fast, glowing bright white before going out just as quickly. She reached in, picked the vial out of the ashes, and twisted the top. This time, it opened.

“Amazing,” I said in awe.

“It was magically sealed. There’s a sacred symbol etched into the metal. I’m surprised to see this kind of magic used in the remote Fifth Kingdom. Shall we see what’s inside?”

I nodded but instinctively guided Zaria behind me and stepped back, so we were both at a safer distance.

Kiera tipped the vial and tapped the contents out onto the bench. Sand flowed initially, then a sliver of something more solid and as white as the sand itself fell out.

“What is it?” Zaria asked.

Kiera used some tweezers to pick it up and held it to the light, examining it from all angles. “It’s Draco Fulgurite.”

“What is that?” I was glad Zaria was asking. I felt like I knew the name, but after the events of today, I wasn’t making the connections fast enough.

“When lightning hits sand, it melts the grains, forming these glass structures shaped like the lightning itself. That’s Fulgurite.” She took a small jar from a shelf and dropped the shard into it, and it made a tinkling sound, glass on glass, when it fell in. She put a lid on the jar and screwed it closed. The jars used for her line of work were specially made and spelled to contain magic indefinitely. “When the lightning is created by a storm dragon, the glass is infused with its power. That is Draco Fulgurite. And as you know, a storm dragon’s lightning causes a disturbance to other magic. It short circuits the powers of natural energy fields, severing connections, preventing new ones forming.”

“Has it broken my magic forever?”

My chest seized at the anguish in Zaria’s voice, and we both turned to look at her. She was clutching the place where the pendant had always sat, going to it for comfort—a habit that would take time to break. She had tears in her eyes, and the fear that she would never have magic was pouring from her.

Kiera hurried to her while I remained frozen to the spot.

“No, Zaria, it hasn’t broken your magic. Not at all. I’m sure now the pendant is not blocking it, it will awaken in no time.”

I should have told her. I could have prevented her feeling this fear, and if I told her what I’d done, here and now, Kiera would know, too. But I couldn’t leave her in fear of never having magic, not after everything she survived to get to this point.