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CHAPTER 10

It was another statement that left me more than a little confused. “Didn’t Aric return home because he couldn’t stand Esan’s bleakness?”

“Yes, but his ship was scuttled by raiders en route to Zephrine.”

Raiders sailing off our southern shores was the last thing we needed right now. “Given the bastard survived, Túxn obviously wasn’t feeling favorable toward us that day.”

Mom’s lips twitched again. “I will admit to thinking along those very same lines, although it is not seemly for the queen consort.”

I dared say it wasn’t seemly for a princess either, even one soldier trained. “Then why isn’t he making his way to Zephrine? Why return here?”

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead and sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Your visions aren’t supplying any information?”

“Just that he will take advantage of a situation that comes.” Her gaze met mine, a touch of bleakness running through the fury now. “And that situation revolves around Damon and the secrets he keeps.”

I swore and stalked over to the table where a shamoke pot steamed lightly. I’d already had a good number of cups today, but a situation like this definitely required more. A big jug of honey mead would have been even better, but that wasn’t practical—or wise—given what still lay ahead. “Damon remains closed mouth about that whole situation.”

I poured two cups, then picked them up and walked over to her. She nodded her thanks and took a sip. “My visions suggest it involves his sisters.”

“He hasn’t got any sisters...” I trailed off. “Or do you mean half-sisters? By all accounts, he has plenty of those.”

“No, full sisters, and don’t ask me to explain impossibility because I can’t—and my visions won’t.”

I downed my shamoke in several gulps, then went back for another. At this rate, I’d be waddling, not walking, up the mountain to the aerie. Or even worse, needing to pee halfway up. “Is Aric’s looming presence the reason my father isn’t here?”

“No. The mages are running their first test of altering the wall stone, and he wished to be there.”

“I hope they’re not experimenting on the main wall, because if things don’t go as planned, that could lead to it being more easily breached.”

“Indeed, which is why they’re testing the alterations on the storeroom section between the war room and the admin block. If the experiment fails, it isn’t likely to cause a major problem.”

Mainly because the Mareritt didn’t have a weapon powerful enough to strike our second wall, let alone the war room. Even the mounted tubes we’d seen at K’Anor weren’t large enough to have the reach needed to do any real damage. Which didn’t mean they couldn’t still cause unimaginable chaos in the areas between the outer wall and the inner.

Of course, the gilded riders didn’t need long-range weapons. Not when they had birds almost impervious to anything we could currently throw at them. Air turbulence might work extremely well, as did the blood barrier Damon had raised, but neither were practical long-term fixes. Witches tired, blood ran out. We needed something else. Something proven.

Like fire wielded by drakkons rather than strega witches.

But even if the exchange spell was a success and the drakkons gained the ability to flame, there was no guarantee the riders and their mages weren’t already working on a means of countering our fires—especially after the chaos we’d caused on the barges.

I downed the second cup but resisted the temptation of a third, grabbing one of the sweet pastries instead. “And Aric? Do we know where he’s currently located?”

“No. He and several others made it onto rowboats and were able to reach Lowcliffe Beach. From the information we received from Hopetown’s forces stationed there, a Zephrine boat was already anchored. It remains, as does most of the seamen, but Aric and his guard left.”

“On foot?”

“No. They confiscated the guards’ mounts and told them to scribe back for more.”

“Such a charming man,” I muttered. And wondered, once again, why father and son were so very different, especially given Damon had been raised in an environment that was all about the importance and superiority of the Velez line of kings. “His actions make no sense, though, not if there was already a boat waiting for them in the bay. Why come here rather than go home? Especially when he hates this place?”

“Again, I do not know, and that is what makes me furious.”

I finished my pastry and reached for another. “Maybe it has something to do with Gayl.”

Mom frowned. “She is nothing more than a reader?—”

“Who apparently also has minor seeress abilities that enable her to divine the future using the thoughts and actions of the present,” I replied. “What if she’s seen something? Something that makes Aric run the risk of returning?”

“The only thing that could do that is Rion’s death.”

“Aside from the fact he isn’t dead, why would that make any difference to Aric?”

“Aric has long hungered to claim Esan’s throne and unite Arleeon entirely under his rule. That is why he was mighty angry when Tayte failed to do his duty and marry you. Aric wanted Damon, as firstborn, on Zephrine’s throne, not ours.”

First born, second born, what did it really matter? They were both his sons. “The problem with that line of thinking is twofold; one, Garran is heir, not me, and even if his death is confirmed, his son will take the throne when he’s old enough. And two, any son I bear will be backup for Zephrine’s throne, not ours.”

“Did you not read the finer details in the marriage contract?”

“Why would I when I was in denial about the whole event?”

She chuckled softly and touched my shoulder sympathetically. “Aric insisted on a clause that states the first son born to you and Damon will, should anything happen to the currently nominated heir, take the throne once he reaches his majority rather than Garran’s heir. Until said son reaches his majority, you and Damon would act as joint regents.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You don’t think Aric is working with the gilded riders, do you?”

She shook her head. “He truly believes that his bloodline is far superior to anything we can produce, and therefore both East and West Arleeon should be united under his sole rule. He would not do anything to endanger that ambition or indeed his own rule in Zephrine.”

“But you do believe he would have taken out Garran if Damon and I produced a son?”

“Yes, I do, and we had been discussing means to prevent that happening. Túxn saved us—and Aric—the effort, however.” Mom looked away briefly, but not before I caught the sheen of tears. After a moment, she added, “I will, however, attempt another scrying; perhaps this time I will see what Túxn has planned for us.”

I touched her arm comfortingly. “At the very least, we know Rion is safe in the war room. Even if the riders’ acid does breach it, they will never be able to destroy the whole building, let alone the wall on which it rests. Not without days and days of endless attacks—and even then, only a limited number of the gilded birds wear the bands that allow them to fly during the day.”

Of course, a limited number could still cause terrible destruction, both on the wall and within the fortress itself.

Mom rubbed her arms. “I hope you’re right.”

But feared I wasn’t, if her troubled expression was anything to go by. And there was nothing I could say to that, because I felt the very same way.

I finished my pastry and licked the sticky syrup from my fingers. “I’d better go. Damon wants to attempt the spell as the moon rises. Apparently, it’s a blood moon that will add potency to the spell.”

“So he said last night, when he was here updating us on the process and the dangers.” She hesitated. “There are many pushing back against this decision—and in some respects you can’t blame them. Fear of drakkons is deeply ingrained into much of the population; it’s going to take a long time for that to dissipate.”

“But it will dissipate? You saw this?”

She nodded. “Though it will not be weeks in the making, but rather years; decades, even.”

“Did your intuition also step in while Damon was here?”

“No, but the bracelets he gave us to protect against Gayl’s mental intrusions might also ward off any seeress intuition I might have when in his presence.”

“Given his aunt apparently has similar abilities, it no doubt does.”

She smiled, walked over, and hugged me tight. “Be careful, my darling girl. I’ve already lost enough family—I do not need to lose you as well.”

“You won’t.” And silently prayed, even as I said that, that I hadn’t just tempted Túxn. I dropped a kiss on her cheek then pulled free. “I’ll see you once I wake from the spell.”

She nodded. “You can be sure I will not sleep until I know you have.”

“Damon will no doubt scribe?—”

“Oh, your father threatened violence if he didn’t .”

I laughed, hugged her one more time, then turned around and walked out. Damon had the packs ready at the door and handed me the three smaller ones. The scents that rose from them were a thick and tangy mix that made my nose twitch.

“What in Túxn’s name have you put in these?”

He smiled, though it failed to ease the worry crowding the corners of his eyes. “Yours carry various herbs to help increase the potency of the spell and ease the physical cost on us all. The rest hold spell anchors and the like.”

I slung two of the packs over my shoulders, strapped on my knife and my sword, then clasped the third pack by its straps as I walked back out into the hall.

As Damon fell in step beside me, I said, “I take it both Kele and Hannity have been apprised of the risks involved in the spell?”

His packs clinked with every step, the sound metallic. Probably the various bowls and cups they needed to collect blood. “I talked to them both this morning, while you slept. I believe you could guess their joint responses.”

“Something along the lines of ‘who the fuck cares? I’ll be one with a drakkon.’”

He laughed, the sound echoing warmly across the everyday noises that filled the palace. “That’s exactly what they both said. In unison, I might add.”

I grinned and clattered down the stairs. The two guards saluted as we headed out the main doors, and I returned them absently, my gaze on the skies. Though dusk remained a good hour away, shadows were already haunting the deeper corners around the stables and other nearby buildings. The sky was clear and though the moon hadn’t yet risen, its bloody hue stained the very edges of the visible horizon.

Kele and Hannity were waiting near the gate, both carrying a number of packs.

“Treats for our drakkons,” Kele said when she saw my raised eyebrow. “I got some for Kaia, too.”

Kele thoughtful, Kaia commented. Perhaps should have chosen her.

I snorted. Still time to change.

Not change. You stronger.

No, I’m not.

Not talking flame.

Huh . I returned my attention to Kele. “And what might the treat be? Because the closer I get, the more odious the scent coming from those packs becomes.”

Hannity grinned. “Smoked white fin. Gave some to Rua, and she appeared to love it. Figured if she did, the others would.”

“I do hope you’ve brought enough to share with Gria, otherwise she will be cross.”

“We have one entire pack for her,” Kele said dryly.

I laughed and followed Damon up the path. It was night by the time we reached the crooked entrance into the mountain, and the moon sat like a fat croaker on the horizon, lending the few stars currently visible a bloody hue.

One that seemed to echo in Damon’s eyes.

The power was rising in him, a cloak so visible that it felt like I could reach out and touch it. Neither Kele nor Hannity commented, which suggested they weren’t seeing it. Maybe the fact I could was a natural result of our deepening connection. Or maybe it was due to my connection to Kaia, allowing her ability to see magic seep through to me even if we weren’t as deeply linked as we had been in the past. Either way, it was a somewhat eerie sight.

We continued on, the ache in my leg increasing as we made our way through the various tunnels until we reached the barrier into the aerie. I really had done some serious damage if healed muscles continued to complain this far out.

Four witches—all women, ranging in age from early twenties to late sixties, if I was any judge—rose as we approached, their gazes unerringly coming to me.

I guess that was natural, given my marriage to Damon, but it was nevertheless unnerving, if only because it felt like they were looking past my outer shell—past all physical attributes like clothes and body shape—and instead searching the “inner” me, weighing my thoughts, my heart, and my soul. Which was ridiculous, because these were blood witches, not readers or seeresses, but I couldn’t help but wonder what their judgement was, and whether I’d been found wanting.

If I had, then their expressions certainly didn’t give it away.

The oldest of the four—a somewhat grizzled-looking woman with short silvery hair and green eyes that glimmered with bloody starlight—stepped forward and held out her hand. “You’d be Bryn Silva, then. Heard a lot about you.”

Her grip was as fierce as the power radiating from her skin, but there was something in its feel that reminded me of Damon.

“And I,” I replied, resisting the urge to flex my fingers once she released them, “have heard nothing about you.”

“That is as it should be.” Her gaze went past me. “This’ll be Kele and Hannity, then?”

“Pretty easy guess, given we’re the only other women here,” Kele said dryly.

The old woman’s gaze narrowed dangerously. While Kele simply raised an eyebrow in response, Hannity took a half step back, her eyes wide and fire flicking faintly around her fingertips. I couldn’t say I blamed her—the old woman’s gaze was fierce . She obviously wasn’t someone who suffered fools—or indeed backchat—lightly.

“I would suggest politeness when dealing with your elders, young woman, especially when they’ll soon be magically messing about with your being.” She paused, and the fierceness faded a little. “Now, you’ve all been informed about the risks, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” we echoed.

“And you understand them?”

Another “yes” echoed in unison.

“And what of the drakkons?”

“The drakkons want fire, above all else,” I replied.

She grunted. “Can’t say I think it’s wise, but desperate times and all that. Damon, you’re lead.”

He glanced at me again, the bloody light in his eyes growing, then strode through the barrier. The witches followed, meaning he’d already added them to the spell that guarded this entrance, with us three bringing up the rear. The drakkons were already aware of our presence, and their curiosity stung the air.

The older woman stopped at the tunnel’s end and, with her hands on her hips, she surveyed the aerie critically. After a moment, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “This isn’t suitable—is there another, larger cavern we could use? The spell will leave all of you comatose for at least a couple of hours, and it would be better if there was no danger of an accidental stomping by random drakkon movement.”

“There’s the upper cavern,” I said. “It’s much bigger and not currently in use.”

“Perfect.” She clapped her hands, drawing multiple jewellike gazes. “The three drakkons involved in this transference, off you go.”

It was said in the manner of an old schoolmarm who expected instant obedience from her charges. Trouble was, if it wasn’t for my presence, most of the drakkons here wouldn’t have understood a word she was saying. It was only my connection to them all—even though I wasn’t actively talking to them—that allowed comprehension.

Kaia’s amusement rumbled through me. She strange.

She is indeed. But you’d better obey before she gets annoyed.

Kaia ordered Rua and Yara to precede her, then called Gria close and wrapped her neck around her drakkling. Gria obviously knew that what was about to happen was dangerous, but she, like the rest of the drakkons here, trusted me. And she, like the rest of them, wanted fire—even if she wasn’t large enough to hold a rider aloft yet.

As Kaia finally ambled after the other two, Gria wandered over for the requisite eye scratch and eagerly accepted Hannity’s offering of dried fish.

Give mine , Kaia said. I good.

We did, then followed the drakkons to the very back of the cavern and up the steep, rocky ramp that led to the upper cavern. The sand here was darker and didn’t radiate the same sort of heat as the lower cavern, which was no doubt the reason why the only hatching caves up here were situated near natural heat vents. The aerie exit here faced west, and in daylight would have given an unending view of Esan and the lands beyond her. Right now, though, it showed a sky dominated by the bleeding moon.

Yara and Rua had each hunkered down in one of the half-moon caves that dotted the perimeter, while Kaia stood near the exit, her scales set aflame by the moon’s light.

The older woman stopped in the triangular “middle” of all three, then glanced at me. “Tell your drakkons everything I say.”

I resisted the urge to say it wasn’t necessary and simply nodded.

She continued, “I’m aware you all claim to understand the dangers, but just to be clear—there is no guarantee that this will work, and it could very well kill you. All of you, drakkon and strega. It could share your powers or remove them. It may give the drakkons fire but may also take years off their lives. It may completely remove fire from you stregas or gift you with whatever elemental powers the drakkons have. But most of all, it will bind you—and likely that of any offspring you might have from this moment on—together, forever.”

“I can’t see that as a problem,” Hannity murmured.

The older woman’s gaze darted toward her. “A life force shared is a life force endangered. If one is hurt, it will be felt by the other. If one is killed, it is likely the other will die.”

You and I no die , Kaia rumbled. Problem solved.

That is definitely a plan I can get behind. All we had to do was hope the riders and the Mareritt allowed us to implement it.

“I do have one question.” Kele stepped forward slightly. “If this spell is successful—if the drakkons do get fire and we retain ours—will they still need us to ride them?”

“That,” the old woman said, “is very much a question for the drakkons. But if this spell works as we believe, then the binding might make it necessary for drakkon and rider to act as one fighting unit to be at their most powerful.”

We be kin, Kaia said. Should fight together.

She said it to the other drakkons rather than just me, and it sounded more like an order than a comment.

Like flamer , Yara said. Gives more protection.

The old woman’s gaze came to mine. “And you? Any questions?”

I hesitated. “If we’re transferring abilities, will we also transfer knowledge? Will the drakkons have to learn from scratch how to flame, or will our experiences and memories transfer across to them?”

“The complete entwining you will all undergo means knowledge should be shared. However, given the vast biological differences, they will likely have to learn how to employ your knowledge to their beings.”

I nodded. Given how long it had taken me to learn control, and how many things I’d burned in the process, it was damnably good to know they didn’t have to learn from scratch. The last thing we needed was drakkons unintentionally flaming each other or us.

“Nothing else?” she asked, leaving me with the odd feeling that perhaps I should be asking more questions.

“Nothing I can immediately think of, so can we stop talking and just do? Time is running out real fast.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You got seer abilities?”

“Mom has.”

“Ah.” She eyed me speculatively for a second, then switched her gaze to Damon. “You brought the items?”

He nodded and shucked off his four packs, handing one to each of the younger witches before giving the third to the older woman. He then took my three, handing out two and keeping the third.

“I’ll work the circle around Bryn and Kaia,” he said. “Carrie can work around Kele and Yara, and Sue, Hannity and Rua.”

The older woman nodded. “Leaving me as guide and step-in spare if your strength fails?—”

“Hang on,” I cut in. “Why would Damon’s strength fail and not the other ladies’?”

“Because,” she snapped, annoyance evident as she stabbed a finger toward Kaia, “that drakkon is huge—almost a third larger again than the other two.”

Am queen , Kaia said. Should be larger.

I resisted the urge to smile and motioned the older woman to continue. She did so, though her voice remained somewhat cross. “Now, our preparations may take some time, so you ladies will sit your butts down next to your drakkons and wait patiently—without talking.”

Is she old queen ? Yara commented. She bossy.

I couldn’t help smiling. With age comes bossiness and wisdom.

Depends on queen. Some not wise. She paused for a long moment, probably realizing what she’d implied. Not mean Kaia.

Not old , came Kaia’s unconcerned response.

As Kele and Hannity walked over to their respective drakkons and gave them the smoked fish, I stopped next to Kaia and leaned a shoulder against her neck as I stared out over lands lit by the moon’s bloody hue. A shiver stole through me, and I lightly rubbed my left arm. In Túxn’s name, let it not be an omen of what lies ahead.

Footsteps approached, and even before I looked around, I knew it was Damon. The power surrounding him was so intense, it felt like lightning across my skin. “You wear your magic like a cloak.”

“It’s a cloak you should not be able to see,” came the old woman’s response before Damon had any chance to reply. “And did I not advise silence?”

“I’m not one to remain silent unless absolutely necessary,” I retorted. “Do you actually have a name? And do you always listen in on other people’s conversations?”

“Yes, and yes,” she replied with a cackle.

I waited several seconds, but she went no further. I raised an eyebrow and met Damon’s gaze questioningly.

Amusement briefly lurked in his red-hued eyes. “She’s known to the outside world as simply the Prioress.”

“Why? Angola is a place of teaching, not priories.”

He shrugged. “In times past, there were many who did not understand—or indeed condone—a woman’s need to study, but most respected a religious priory.”

“Has Zephrine really moved beyond that belief? Because I’m hearing echoes of it every time your father opens his mouth.”

“My father is not Zephrine, no matter what he believes. Now, I need to set up the circle around the two of you.” He glanced up at the drakkon. “Kaia, you need to remain still—no tail swishing.”

No swish tail , she acknowledged. No move.

I repeated what she said, then added, “And me? Should I strip off yet?”

Heat stirred briefly in his eyes. “As much as I would enjoy that, I need to concentrate, and you, my dear wife, are too much of a distraction.”

“And yet, here you remain, chatting and being all distracted.”

“She makes a point,” the Prioress said crossly. “Get a move on, Damon—I have no desire to be in this wretched place longer than absolutely necessary.”

Damon cast an amused look her way, then moved closer to the side wall and emptied out his pack, placing the various jars of herbs, knives, jewel-like stones, a metal cup, and a pouring jug in a neat row. Then he picked up the herbs and returned, briefly pausing a few yards away. “We begin. You both ready?”

I nodded. He turned to the side and began to circle us, murmuring in that gorgeous old language again and slowly pouring the herbs onto the sand. As the moon rose higher in the night sky, the jewels joined the herbs on the ground, and his voice grew stronger. His magic pulsed around us now, a curtain of power that rose in harmony with the spells being cast around Kele and Yara, Hannity and Rua.

I hoped, really hoped, that Túxn was in a generous mood and we all made it through this successfully.

Once Damon had finished the jewel circle, he picked up the first of his knives and a cup, then approached us, carefully stepping over the jewels and the herbs. “I now need blood from you both. Kaia, I’ll take it from your claw pad, but the blade is blessed to ensure it does not hurt.”

Trust, came Kaia’s comment.

I repeated that, my gaze on the rather large-looking cup. “It’s going to take a lot of my blood to fill that thing.”

“It won’t drain you to the point of danger.” His gaze held mine. “I made a promise. I intend to keep it.”

My heart did an odd sort of twist. One that suggested I’d fallen faster, and deeper, than I’d feared when it came to this man. I continued to hold his gaze and, just for a second, felt the unsteady beating of my heart echoing through his.

Or was that merely wishful thinking?

Because despite everything he’d said last night, for all the promises he’d made, never once had love been mentioned.

He didn’t say anything, though the faintest flicker in his eyes suggested he was well enough aware of my thoughts and my fears.

“We need to talk, Damon.”

He didn’t ask what about. He didn’t need to. “We will. When there’s time.”

Time, I suspected, was the one thing we didn’t have. I held out my right hand, wrist up. “Best drain me first then, just in case the sight of Kaia losing all that blood makes me faint.”

“Though I suspect fainting isn’t in your nature at all , if there’s one thing that could cause it, it would be the sight of your drakkon losing blood.”

“You misjudge me,” I replied lightly. “The sight of you losing a lot of blood is no good for my equilibrium, either.”

Before he could reply, the Prioress snapped, “Will you two stop flirting and just get on with it?”

He smiled, gently caught my hand, then placed the blade against my skin and glanced at me, eyebrow raised in question. I nodded and, with a quick sharp motion, he cut my wrist. As blood welled from the wound, he turned my hand sideways so that the rich red liquid flowed steadily into the cup. When it was close to full, he righted my wrist, then placed the knife’s blade on the wound. It instantly began to heal.

“Feel okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching mine.

“Of course—though it’s not in my nature to say otherwise.”

Amusement briefly twisted his lips, and just as quickly fell away. He stepped over the herbs and the jewels, placed my blood carefully beside a large metal jug, then picked up the second cup and returned.

“Kaia, can you please move your foot so I can reach the pad.”

She immediately did so. Drakkons, like many much— much —smaller reptiles, had four claws and a dew claw, with a pad of tissue between the two to cushion and protect their feet when walking. Damon placed the bloody knife on the pad’s thick edge, then drove the point in. It went deeper than I expected, but Kaia didn’t flinch, and no pain washed through her thoughts. Damon withdrew the knife, and dark blood followed, flowing easily into the cup. As it neared fullness, he once again placed the flat of the blade against the wound, this time murmuring in old Angolan. Her wound, like mine, sealed almost instantly.

His magic heal faster than mine , she commented.

But yours is part of your being and instinctive, which is far better.

I returned my attention to Damon. He was murmuring again, waving a hand over each of the cups before picking them both up and pouring them into the jug. At the point where the two flows combined, a luminous, bloody mist arose.

It was the same sort of mist that now surrounded the moon.

I shivered and rubbed my arms again, but it didn’t help. The sheer amount of power now filling this cavern was a heated river that flowed across my senses and danced through my veins, a fire so intense it made my whole body vibrate.

And the most dangerous part of the spell hadn’t even started yet.

Am here , Kaia said. We do this, be one.

Kin, I replied, though with far less confidence than she had.

I trusted Damon. I was just... afraid.

He turned to face us, the bowl in his hand. There was no blue, no white, left in his eyes; their color was now the same red as the mist that surrounded him—a mist born of combining our blood with the moon’s power.

For the very first time, I wondered what this spell would cost him .

“You may strip off your clothes now, Bryn.” Though his voice was gossamer soft and impersonal, it echoed loudly through and around me. “Toss your clothes and your weapons beyond the circle, ensuring none of them touch it. Then you must lie prone on Kaia so that your entire length is in contact with her.”

“That is going to be uncomfortable naked,” I commented, nevertheless pushing to my feet.

He didn’t answer. Perhaps he couldn’t, given the power he now exuded.

I stripped off, shivering a little as cold fingers of air curled around my torso, then stepped closer to the stone circle and tossed my clothes beyond it. Once my boots had followed, I turned and studied Kaia. Where did I lie? Her neck and back were out of the question because of all her spines....

Leg, she said, stretching her nearest front leg out just enough that it touched her snout.

I scrambled up onto her claws, then sat down, leaning back against the front of her leg and stretching my legs out to her claws. Her scales were cold and rough against my skin, but I didn’t raise the inner fire to keep myself warm, as I had no idea how that would affect the spell.

Perhaps that was one of the questions I should have asked.

“Comfortable?” Damon asked in that same soft but distant voice.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Then the true spell begins.”

He picked up the second knife and sliced his left arm open, then lowered it, allowing the blood to trickle down his palm and fingers onto the ground. Then he raised the jug and began to spell; with every step, he dribbled our combined blood onto the jewels and the herbs. A vortex of power began to rise, and lightning flashed, fierce and bright. Not across the night sky or its bloody moon, but rather inside me. It burned through muscle, veins, and bone, stretching me, expanding me, making me a being that was more than flesh, a being that was ethereal and translucent, here and yet not.

Pain followed, pain unlike anything I’d felt before. I tried to scream, but in this place of blood and power, fire and fury, I had no voice. There was just the vortex, tearing at me, pulling me apart, drawing the past and the future, my hopes and my fears, my strengths and weakness, accomplishments and failures—all that I was, and all that I could be—from my being and spinning them away, tiny specks of ash lost in a maelstrom of blood and magic.

But I was not the only soul caught in this madness.

Kaia curled around me, a gossamer being made of starlight. Red starlight that burned like fire.

The vortex’s intensity increased, and the world seemed to scream. Or maybe that was me. It was hard to tell in this place of bloody power.

Starlight began to pull away from my incorporeal being and spun toward Kaia’s, the flow gentle at first but quickly increasing, until it seemed like a flood of light was pouring from me to her. It danced briefly amongst her starlit form, then gradually combined—merged—with the red, becoming one.

Then the vortex shifted direction, and a smaller stream flowed from her incorporeal form into mine. Each star hit like a club, then ran amok through me, burning, destroying, rebuilding.

I screamed, endlessly screamed, into that fiery darkness, but I wasn’t alone. Kaia was here, and she too screamed.

Then the spell reached its pinnacle and exploded, taking me, Kaia, and consciousness with it.