Page 60

Chapter 60

Atikus

W eeks had passed since Thorn fell and Irina was banished.

The Palace Healers declared me recovered, though I still used my brush with the void to skip heavy lifting or enjoy special treatment at every turn, mostly in the form of extra meals.

Declan teased me relentlessly.

“I feel like I could eat for days,” I said as I stuffed another corn muffin into my mouth.

Declan laughed. “And that’s different from any other day how?”

“Son, you know better than anyone how grave my wounds were. It was a close thing, you saving me. Any Healer worth their blues would command a patient to eat solid food to recover their strength. I am only doing what is medically prudent. Now, pass me that bacon again, and maybe those eggs.”

Declan shook his head . . . but passed the bacon.

Keelan and Jess strode into the room, their fingers interlocked.

“You two are in a good mood these days. I cannot remember the last time I saw Keelan smile this much—or show any emotion, for that matter,” Declan teased.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be jealous.”

Jess had barely settled into her chair before the team of lurking servants leaped into action. Her charger vanished, her teacup was filled, and fresh plates of every breakfast food imaginable appeared on the table near her.

In the past few weeks, the absence of Gifts had made itself keenly felt.

For a millennium, magic was engrained in daily life. Simple tasks that previously only required one Gifted person with Enhanced Strength might now involve an engineer’s mind and the muscle of twenty stout men.

Spring had yet to bloom in its fullness, but farmers dreaded the planting without Gifts of horticulture to speed up and enhance growth and ward away pests.

Royal advisors were sent to every corner of the Kingdom to gather information on the impact and assist with what everyone hoped were temporary solutions.

Midway through breakfast, Declan set his fork down and looked at me. He spoke in my mind. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. Mother talked about the spell used to create the Gifts. I think she referred to it as the Sundering Spell or Spell of Sundering, something like that.”

“Spell of Sundering. That is right.” I looked back at my plate and kept eating, not wanting to alert anyone to our conversation. “I have had the Mages here in Fontaine looking through the library and vault, but they came up empty. Our own Mages in Saltstone should also be looking for references to the spell, but they have no Telepath to report progress, so I do not know if they have found anything or not.”

“Mother said there’s a copy of the spell in her library in . . . that cave.”

The fork slipped from my hand, clanked against my plate, and fell to the floor. Jess and Keelan looked up.

“You all right?” Keelan asked.

“Fine, fine. My fork slipped. I must have had too many of those buttered rolls.” I grinned.

Keelan grinned and turned back to Jess.

“You mean there is a copy of the spell in the cavern where Kels? lived? A whole copy?” I said, taking a replacement fork from one of the ever-diligent servants and trying to contain my excitement.

“Yeah, that’s what she said, though I never saw it. There really wasn’t a need, and I was still so new to magic it wouldn’t have meant anything to me. But there’s a problem.”

“What?” I asked, turning to look at Declan.

“She said it took five of the original Mages, using their combined power, to cast the spell—and it consumed all of them—except her. By design, she wasn’t part of the casting—she was an object of it. That’s how she became Keeper.”

I nodded. “I knew about her becoming Keeper through the spell but had not realized the other Mages were consumed by it. I assumed a couple may have died, while the others were lost to history after leaving the island. The bigger problem here is how much power was needed for the casting—and they were casting into a purified Well, not the muck we are dealing with today.”

“We need to go back to the island. The answers are there. I can feel it.”

I held his eyes a moment. “Can it wait until after I finish breakfast?”

Declan laughed out loud, turning Jess’s and Keelan’s heads once more.

“Care to share?” Jess asked.

“No,” Declan said through chuckles. “Just Grampy and his appetite.”

Two hours after I tossed my napkin on my plate, Declan and I hugged Jess and Keelan goodbye. I told Jess we were headed to Saltstone to review scrolls my Mages had unearthed, a lie that deeply bothered Keelan. It pained me, lying to Jess, but the security of Rea Utu was paramount. The Compulsion cast on Keelan’s mind to protect the island and its inhabitants would have allowed us to share our destination with him, but Declan argued against it. Jess and Keelan had grown close, and he did not want a secret to drive a wedge between them.

With a last wave and pair of tight smiles, Declan and I Traveled to the island.

On our third day on Rea Utu by island time, Declan’s magic-enhanced voice bounced through every corridor of the cavern. “Atikus! Come quickly. I found it!”

A moment later, I shuffled into the library, wheezing from my brisk walk from the kitchen where I’d been making lunch. I passed a rectangular worktable that was now buried beneath dozens of unfurled scrolls to find Declan pacing between two stacks near the back of the grotto. A ball of undulating magic bobbed as he walked, somehow keeping up with his frantic movement.

His eyes never left the scroll he held.

I gripped his arm to stop his pacing, then peered around his shoulder to peek at the parchment.

“What language is this?” I asked. “I don’t recognize it.”

Declan grinned. “Keep looking.”

I furrowed my brow at the strange symbols, then something astonishing happened.

They began shifting .

Symbols splintered apart and formed letters in Melucia’s lilting dialect. Whole words vanished as others appeared.

The inky dance was mesmerizing.

“Sweet Spirits. I have never seen magic do that,” I muttered.

When the spell settled and I could read each line, I released a long breath and allowed myself to relax. “My boy, you have done it. You found it!”

I slapped Declan on the back, then sobered. “There is just one problem.”

“What now?”

“The Well is still poisoned, and I do not know how to cure it.”

Declan looked back to the scroll. “Could casting this also purify the currents?”

“Hmm.” I fiddled with my beard as I thought. “Maybe—or it won’t. We could waste an immense amount of magical energy and destroy our only hope of fixing things.”

“Immense amount of magical energy. I’ve heard you use that exact phrase before.” Declan dove into his memories. “What about using the crown? The one we recovered from Thorn and Irina?”

I shook my head. “That will not work. The crown lost its magic when the diamonds were shattered. It magnified whatever Gifts the wearer possessed but also granted the Gifts of the spirits trapped within each diamond. Those were lost when the spirits were freed.”

“Wait! I think—you weren’t talking about the crown when you said that phrase; you were talking about Irina’s staff , how it magnified her power.” Declan paced. “What if we used the staff to magnify our power as we cast the spell?”

Both my brows raised. “I have never studied her staff, but in theory, I suppose it could work.”

“If there’s even a chance we can restore the Gifts, we have to try.”

I sighed. “It is never this easy, Declan, but I suppose you are right. We do owe it to everyone back home to exhaust every avenue. It is why we came here, after all.”

A few moments later, adopted son and father stood on the glassy dais of the Well of Magic, staring down at the blackened ooze that was once magic’s untainted lifeblood.

“When you brought me here and I saw the current for the first time . . .” I swallowed hard. “Declan, when you think about the past, do you have one or two moments in time that seem frozen in your mind? If you close your eyes, you can see every detail, hear and feel and taste everything .”

Declan’s eyes grew distant as a smile curled his lips. “When I met Ayden.”

“Yes, I suppose that would be one of yours.” I returned his smile and patted his arm. “In all my life, I remember three or four perfect moments . Standing here with you, seeing the Well and its majestic flow that first time, was one.”

“This place is beyond amazing.”

“I am explaining this poorly. It felt like I was an excited, innocent child again, thrilled at magic’s first touch, though I had no idea what it even meant. It filled me with wonder and a sense of possibility, with dreams so distant a moment earlier but suddenly within reach.”

I let my hand fall from Declan’s arm, then turned, sat on the stair, and stared down into the murk. It absorbed much of the light normally present in the cavern, and Declan had to cast several globes above us just to see a few paces around the Well.

“Now, all I see is darkness. This real poison here is the absence of hope. Son, we have to succeed, because my heart tells me the whole world will dim if we fail.”

Declan sat and put an arm around me.

“You are the smartest, strongest, kindest man I’ve ever known. And I’m Keelan’s brother, which means I have to protect everyone and be grumpy doing it.”

I spit a laugh despite my mood.

“We’ll make this work. One way or another, we’ll find a way.”

I looked up at Declan, and my lip quivered as I spoke in a strained whisper, “I am so proud of you, Declan. You have grown into quite the man.”

Declan’s face reddened, then a grin quirked the corner of his mouth as he ran a hand through his curly mess of hair.

“I know. It is such a burden being amazing sometimes.”

I barked another laugh as the mood lightened.

“Enough of you! Let us cast a spell.”

I stood and gripped the staff in both hands. Power thrummed through me— my own magic —reverberating through the cold metal. My heartbeat quickened.

Declan rose, and we approached the opening of the Well shoulder to shoulder, father and son. Declan uncoiled the scroll and held it so we could both see its contents.

We called our Light and poured it into the scroll.

Triggered by the touch of our magic, the scroll’s lettering glittered to life, transforming from faded black to brilliant gold.

We read aloud.

With each spoken word, the symbols and letters brightened, and their strokes flowed on the page.

Declan’s tunic flared to life, outshining the globes hovering overhead.

The incantation began.

Biotáille solais, glaoimid ort. éist linn.

Pinpricks of iridescent light flickered amid the charred current.

De réir cumhachta táimid faoi cheangal. D’fhéadfaimis réimeas.

Flowers of light bloomed in darkness.

Mist rose from the mire and engulfed us.

Our voices rose, and wind began to swirl and howl about the cavern.

De réir cumhachta theipeann orainn. D’fhéadfaimis titim.

The air in the chamber grew cold and thick with power.

Declan’s eyes blazed and leaked cerulean mist.

I strained to stay on my feet.

Ceangal ár n-uacht. Ceangal ár gcumhacht. Briseadh ár slabhraí agus sever dúinn. Briseadh sinn.

Light balanced darkness in the Well as the power of pure magic fought against the insidious poison leeching warmth from the world of life.

But the infection battled back.

It strained against the invocation now damning its existence.

Pain seared into my chest.

The staff scored livid burns across my palms.

Yet I held firm.

I continued to chant, more wail than prayer, as magic warred within my soul.

Declan fell to his knees as lances of agony pierced his eyes.

The Phoenix on his chest burst forth, now freed from the golden fabric, an ephemeral beast bent on serving its fallen master. The mighty bird grew to consume the space before us, then, with wings dripping power, dove headfirst into the embattled river below.

The blackness convulsed, coalescing around the Phoenix, clinging to wing and beak and claw. Yet when the mighty bird vanished, far more blue than black flowed in the ancient brook.

One line remained.

Sunder cad a tugadh agus Tabhair cad a bhí sundered.

We shouted.

Sunder cad a tugadh agus Tabhair cad a bhí sundered.

And a third time . . . louder.

Sunder cad a tugadh agus Tabhair cad a bhí sundered!

Power flooded from the current and out from our chests.

Declan screamed as magic was ripped from his core, his soul torn asunder.

He fell to the crystal floor.

Weakened and spent, I was lifted from the glassy stair as raw magic tore from my spirit. Higher and higher, the Light raised my body, until I hovered ten feet above the Well.

Unable to speak or move or scream, I gaped in terror at the raging river below.

The staff slipped from my weakened grasp and fell into the opening of the Well.

The river writhed, and a wave billowed forth.

There was nowhere to hide.

There was no spell or power to protect from the current’s ire.

I fell from its grasp and plunged beneath its foaming waves.

I heard Declan cry out as he dove toward the Well.

He leaped above the opening and threw out his hands to pull me to safety, but magic would not be robbed of its price.

Declan’s emerald eyes were the last things I saw as I slipped from his grip and vanished beneath the surface.