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Chapter One

R oderick Hollen:

T he wave of wrongness hit me like a physical blow, sending the ancient book in my hands crashing to the floor. The room spun violently as I gripped the edge of the heavy oak table.

Clutching my mage stone to ground my thoughts, I discovered it was the source of my anxiety. No, the assault came from Cinaed, funneled through my gem. It was the medium his emotions had used to reach me.

He was afraid. Very afraid.

I slammed another useless book shut and added it to the towering pile of discards on my table.

Four days of research, and I had nothing to show other than eye strain, frustration, and clothes that smelled like musty, old tomes.

Of the three, my frustration was the only thing I could control, and I was doing a poor job of managing my emotions.

I’d been warned the chances of finding anything useful were small.

The ard ri hadn’t said it would be futile, but as the leading elf scholar on earth magic, he’d told me he’d never seen a reference to magic that could dissolve the spell the phoenix king had cast. He’d nevertheless humored my request to search his library.

I think he understood my need to do something to keep the despair away.

Ailpein’s spell had been based in earth magic, but it also required an intimate knowledge of phoenix physiology.

Remarkably little had been written about phoenix magic in any library I’d contacted.

Or not so remarkably. Ailpein had been the king since long before the Great Ward was created.

He’d no doubt purged the world’s libraries of anything he’d found.

My hands shook as I focused on Cinaed’s image in my mind and pushed my consciousness out through my stone. Ailpein might have barred us from mating, but his magic wasn’t strong enough to stop me from communicating with my Cinaed. Whispering his name, I waited.

The moment he joined the link, the anguish in my soul eased a fraction. I could see his beautiful face in my thoughts, his copper hair shining in the early Scottish morning. The usual fire in his eyes, however, had dimmed.

“Roderick.” The sadness rolling off him might have broken my heart if it hadn’t shattered already. “What’s wrong?”

Linked through my stone, I couldn’t hide my surprise. “ I felt your fear. It connected to my gem. What happened?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to send those emotions through our link.”

I studied his features, drinking in the sight of him as though he’d been standing next to me. He wasn’t well. Until we could bond, he wouldn’t regain the joyful song that had been in his heart when we met. “Never apologize for seeking me out when you need me,” I said. “It’ll never be a burden.”

“I know, but I hate being weak.” His voice felt like tears on my cheek. “I can’t hide my sadness as well as you.”

The difference between us was he’d lost a part of himself. I hadn’t. Before we’d met, he’d been vibrant and full of joy. My life had been empty, and there was a longing for something I couldn’t name.

“You can’t compare us, my love. Our separation has dimmed your fire,” I said. “You were meant to soar, but fate has held you down. It’s not your fault.”

If my death would restore his joy, I’d have given my life decades ago. The loss of his mate, however, would only rob him of the one thing that kept him going.

Hope.

“Roderick,” he said in the soft voice he used when he tried to cheer me up. “You were meant to fly just as high— only you knew it wasn’t a solo flight. I didn’t know I was missing a part of me until I met you.”

We’d had this conversation too many times. He wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t lose the tragic brooding until he and I were one. “What made you so afraid?”

“There’s a feeling of wrongness in the magic around the castle. Like the stones are screaming a warning and I can’t understand what they’re trying to tell me. I don’t know if anyone else feels it, but I can’t keep it out of my soul.”

Something the Western Guardian said pushed its way to the forefront of my thoughts. I dared not hope Darius was right, but it felt too coincidental. “Your grandfather’s spell goes against what the Earth has decided. Even he can’t hold back the full force of the Earth’s magic.”

Cinaed didn’t reply immediately. He was smart enough to grasp the implications. “Is my grandfather in danger?”

I doubted the Earth would try to kill Ailpein, but that didn’t mean he was safe. “If he continues to resist, I don’t think it is good for his health.”

“I don’t think that’s what I felt,” he said. “It was ominous. Cautioning us of an approaching danger.”

Cinaed was more sensitive to the differences in earth magic, but I wondered if he was ignoring the obvious. “Are you sure it’s not connected? Your grandfather’s fate might be quite dire if he doesn’t yield.”

“I agree, but this is different,” Cinaed said with conviction. “There isn’t any anger in the energy. It’s a warning.”

“Are you safe?” I knew he was capable of defending himself—and what could harm a phoenix—but I still worried.

“I’m fine. Just unsettled.” Our connection wavered for a moment before it stabilized. “Father’s calling for me. I have to go.”

I wanted to hold onto this moment, but given his grandfather’s position, Cinaed couldn’t stay. “Be careful.”

His presence faded, and I missed him the moment I was alone again. If Cinaed was right about danger to his flock, I needed to find a way to keep them safe.

Clearing my mind, I reached out to the one person I knew could help me.

“Bart, I need to see you. It’s important.”

B art’s office at Utrecht was nothing like anyone would expect from the youngest professor of defensive magic in Utrecht’s centuries-long history.

Most of his furniture consisted of pieces he’d rescued from Hollen Hall, which meant they were probably older than me.

The décor was tasteful, but felt like the office of an ancient academic, not a thirty-year-old archmage.

Bart was an old soul, but he was a good being. He’d made time for me on a moment’s notice. He smiled and rose from his seat. “Rod!” He swept me into a hug. “I was surprised to get your message.”

Given the minimal contact I’d had with him and the younger generation over the last four decades, his reaction was understandable. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t something that might involve the Great Ward. And some of it is personal.”

“You don’t have to explain. I’m always available if you need me.” He ushered me to one of the matching chairs in front of his desk. It brought me back to my university days, sitting in front of one of my professors.

I relayed my conversation with Cinaed and explained my concerns and suspicions. “I’m still worried this could be directed at Ailpein,” I said. “Cinaed, however, is convinced it has nothing to do with his grandfather’s defiance.”

Bart kept silent for a few seconds and then heaved in a deep breath. “Without experiencing the feeling for myself, I can’t be sure what it means. Based on what you’ve shared, I tend to agree with Cinaed. It’s unlikely what he’s feeling is connected to Ailpein’s spell.”

I wanted them both to be wrong, but they were probably right. “Can you find out what it means?”

The look of disapproval on his face answered my question. “It doesn’t work that way. My visions don’t come on demand. Plus, I’ve only seen things for people I know. Cinaed is a stranger to me.”

I slumped in my chair. Of course I knew this, but that didn’t stop the disappointment. “What about when you meet him? Could that trigger a vision?”

“Rod,” he said carefully. “No one knows how prophetic visions work. The Ocular Society has studied this for centuries and they don’t have an explanation. Plus, we don’t know if the source of the dread is centered on Cinaed.”

Hearing how sorry he sounded for not being able to help, I regretted coming to see him. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Hang on,” he said before I could get up. “I might be able to determine the source of whatever is affecting Cinaed if it happens when we’re there. No promises, but if the Earth is sending a warning, we might be able to figure out what it’s trying to tell us.”

Despite all the qualifications Bart included in his statement, all I heard was he might be able to determine the source. “What do you need to find out?”

“Try not to get your hopes up, Rod,” he said. “The things we don’t know outnumber what we do. Most of these warnings are incredibly hard to understand.”

I realized the chance of success was small, but a slim hope was better than none. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Have you heard when we leave?”

That was another frustration. Diplomacy moved at a snail’s pace, which was why I spent so much time searching the libraries for answers. “No. Dad’s still in negotiations with King Ailpein.”

“What’s there to negotiate?” Bart asked. “We just want to talk to him.”

Like me, Bart didn’t make things complicated. He didn’t engage in subtleties and half-true answers. “Ailpein realizes what we want and doesn’t want to listen. But he wants something from Dad, so they are discussing what each side will agree to give up.”

“So stupid.” Bart’s lips curled down slightly. Rising, he selected a book from his desk. “The king is letting his emotions cloud his judgment. We sent him the proof weeks ago, but facts don’t matter to him if they conflict with what he believes.”

Bart’s description matched Cinaed’s opinion of his grandfather. “Then this trip is a waste of time.”

“Not at all.” He thumbed through the book. “I need to get closer to Ailpein so I can find his magic signature. If I have that, I might be able to help you break his spell.”

Maybe I had Bart wrong. “You’re going to pretend to try to change his mind?”

“No, that part is real.” He spun the book around and handed it to me. “If he’s as stubborn as I’ve been told, I want a backup plan. Study that spell. Once we isolate his magical fingerprint, we might be able to negate its effects on you two.”

I read the passage three times before I realized what he had in mind. Days of searching had been fruitless because I was trying to attack the macro problem. Bart’s idea was to shield the individual from the effects of the broader spell.

“This is amazing,” I said, looking up from the pages. “How did you think of this?”

“Defensive magic is based on protecting the mage,” he said. “I created that spell when I was a sophomore as a final project. The theory is sound, but the execution requires certain information I don’t have.”

“You created this in college?”

“High school.” He shrugged. “I wanted to do something no one else had done.”

I’d come to Bart hoping he could tell me if there was danger to Cinaed, but he’d given me a solution to the real problem I faced.

After weeks of fighting off despair, I finally saw a light in the distance.

It was a ways off, but it was there. Given fate wanted me and Cinaed to be together, I took this as a positive sign.

“I see that look in your eye, Rod,” Bart sat across from me and pointed toward the book. “Don’t get your hopes up. If Ailpein’s spell targeted his flock, the magic might have already bonded with Cinaed. I won’t know if that happened until I examine a phoenix.”

One very specific phoenix. My mate. I didn’t want to ask a question, but I needed to know. “Assuming the magic soaked into Cinaed, can you reverse it?”

The answer was visible in his face before he spoke the words. “I don’t know. Depending on the spell, undoing the effects might kill even a phoenix.”

Bart had tried to be helpful, but it had the opposite effect. He’d given me a sliver of hope, and then dropped an anvil on my head. The best option, convincing Ailpein to revoke the spell, was also the one least likely to succeed.

I couldn’t give in to the despair creeping into my soul. As hard as it was to resist, I had to try. Cinaed was hurting too much already.

Bart and Otto had better make a convincing argument or else Cinaed and I might not be around to help create the new Great Ward.