Page 122 of Stormvein

Then a subtle shift occurs. I feel it before I see it. A ripple in the air between them, like heat rising from stone. The tension melts from her shoulders. Her breathing synchronizes with the creature’s. Her fingers unfurl on her lap, palms turned upward.

Her eyes change, taking on a silver quality that matches the mist stalker’s, the silver expanding until it fills the whites completely. The change is mesmerizing, and I watch, transfixed, as the connection forms between them.

My chest tightens. Pride, yes, but something more complex flows through it. Recognition. The woman who freed me from the tower is becoming something that hasn’t been seen in Meridian since the last purge. I’m witnessing the birth of a new Veinblood in real time.

“I think …” Her voice is quiet, distant. “It’s there. I can feel it.”

“Don’t chase it. Let it meet you.”

“It’s like … like a current under my skin. Right before lightning strikes.”

“That’s because of the kind of power you wield. It feels different for all of us. For Earthveins, it would feel like sand, Tideveins, water.”

“I can see myself,” she whispers. “And the clearing.”

Her hands relax on her lap as she surrenders to the experience.

She holds the link for longer than I expected for her first try, but eventually the connection breaks. She gasps, blinks, and focuses on me.

“That was incredible. Different from Glassfall Gap.”

“With practice, you’ll be able to send the familiar out, and see what it sees.” I hand her a waterskin. “Now hydrate and eat something.”

When it’s time to move out, we mount our horses and leave the clearing behind. The path narrows, forcing us to ride single file. From my position behind Ellie, I note how she sits straighter in the saddle than before, more confident despite her limited experience.

The silver in her hair catches sunlight, sending out tiny sparks which fall around her like rain. Almost as if she’s shedding parts of herself with each step forward, leaving behind the woman who stumbled through a tower door, dehydrated and terrified, and becoming someone Meridian has been waiting for.

I find myself thinking of the dream, and the woman who warned of something happening at Blackstone Ridge. Of the name Elowen, and its connection to Ellie. The way it felt in my mouth, as though I’ve said it before. As though it belongs in the same breath as my own name.

Questions without answers yet. Mysteries to be unraveled after we deal with the immediate situation.

I touch the ring on my finger, feeling its response to my power, whole again after so long. But something has changed in the resonance, a new note vibrating through the connection. Something that feels like her. Whatever binds us is beyond any magic I’ve known before.

But for now, my focus has to stay on Blackstone Ridge and the confrontation awaiting us there. On Sereven, who believeshe’s destroyed me. And the Authority, who will soon learn the cost of their failure to put me down.

Some debts can only be paid in blood, and my payment is long overdue.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ELLIE

Not all magic marks the skin. Some marks are quieter.

The Healer’s Codex, ancient Tidevein manuscript

The mountains riseup around us like silent sentinels, their jagged peaks cutting through the darkening sky. Patches of snow cling to the highest peaks. We’ve been riding for over twelve hours, pushing hard through narrow passes and steep trails.

The hard pace Sacha set has shown me that I’ve adapted to life in Meridian more than I realized. Weeks of walking, climbing, and non-processed meals have carved strength into parts of my body that used to be soft and unused. But riding is different from walking. It uses muscles I haven’t trained, and pulls at my back and legs in a steady grind I can’t ignore. Each hoofbeat sends a fresh ache up my spine.

I shift in the saddle, trying to ease the discomfort … and catch myself watching Lisandra again. She’s riding ahead of me between two guards, spine straight, shoulders square, like she isn’t tired at all. Like the weight of what she’s done doesn’t touch her.

She betrayed us. Betrayedhim. And I can’t stop turning that truth over in my head, trying to make it fit. She’s the one who gave Sacha to the Authority. The one who made that choice. But I keep remembering the version of her who welcomed me to Stonehaven, who showed joy when she discovered Sacha hadn’t died all those years ago. She talked about survival with a voice that didn’t shake. She looked tired, but never afraid.

It doesn’t add up. If she were just another coward, or a spy, it would be easier. But she’s not. She’s smarter than that. Colder, maybe. She made a calculation. A choice. And I can’t decide if that makes her monstrous, or just human in a way I don’t want to understand.

I want to believe there’s more to it. That somewhere behind that carefully blank expression, she regrets what she did. But the way she rides now, like we’re not heading toward a confrontation where she might die, where weallmight die, it makes my skin crawl.

My gaze moves beyond her to Sacha. He’s riding at the front of our group, occasionally sending his raven ahead to scout the path. He rides with confidence, choosing paths without hesitation, ensuring we’re constantly moving forward.