More interesting.
“Hmm.” She shoved the seed in her mouth without so much as a blink.
Shite.
What is happening?
Excellent question.
Before she could ask it, Vann was pulling something else from a deep, inner pocket of his long jacket.
Lunara recoiled. “Is that amace?”
“Yes.” Fern stepped forward like she’d been hypnotized, fixated on the plain, battered weapon in Vann’s grasp. “It is.”
“Give her some space, Luna.” The tone in his voice brooked no argument.
Her back hit the wall as he handed it over, joining her in a blur. The second Fern’s fingers wrapped around the handle, the mace transformed. Bronze bubbled up from beneath the steel, morphing it into an ornate monstrosity. The spiked end lengthened as a grey, stormy cloud gathered around it, and yellow sparks shot down to strike the tip and flanges like a lightning rod.
Everything about Fern was magnified. Her curls defied gravity to float around her face and shoulders in a lavender halo. The gold dust in her skin twinkled above and below the edges of her bandeau dress. The green of her wings deepened. And, when she looked up at them with wicked eyes, there were roiling clouds in her dark gaze as well.
“Yes,”she hissed through her teeth, grinning as electric arcs danced over her skin. “This feelsright.”
“Behold the Spring Rain.” Vann spoke under his breath, barely a sound. “I’ll be traveling with you. She needs me nearby to use her powers.” He shrugged. “Cost of Fae magic, which I’ll happily pay since we’re going to need all the help we can get if the rumors in the Tempusrealm are true.”
Too much information to sort through.
“What was the seed for?”
“To help her body remember what she is, without having to explain anything.”
That… sort of makes sense?
“Wait—”
“That’s all I can say, for now.” He gripped her shoulder, his mismatched eyes earnest. “I didn’t like the secrecy, but it was—is—necessary. Just know… You have found yourself with an extraordinarily powerful ally. The rest of her truths are hers togive, when she finds them again. For now, keep her close and trust her intuition. It is unmatched.”
According to Araxis,memory was its own sort of realm toll for those who could mist, and there were few places Lunara remembered more emphatically than Glynmor.
Being back sent a shiver down her spine. She’d come alone, hidden in the space between, to see first by herself what awaited them before delivering the Demon host to its cursed soil.
In the month since they’d been there, the fields between the village and chasm had failed to heal themselves. Veins of black spread out from the ruts through the land, and—where the dreadbeast’s blood had spilled—festering decay was slowly eating away at the grass and flowers that dared to remain.
Solyrian mocked her from above, casting its warmth on a scene that didn’t deserve it.
Invisible within the shimmering ether, Lunara stood atop the rocky incline Brand had made and watched the swarm of Forgotten wandering aimlessly below, seeping shadow and towering like trees. White and bony, cracked and gangling, they trampled the ground with their careless, clawed steps. Their brittle moans crackled through needlepoint teeth and shattered the silence in intervals, like branches as they snapped and fell.
As far as the eye could see. In every direction.
Good thing Hedda had thought for her to come. There’d be no time to gather themselves. No time for finding their feet.
Magic floated in on the soft breeze, running familiar fingers through her hair. The Sorcerit were coming.
This is it.
They just had to get to the steps at the chasm’s edge. Sisters willing, they would lead her to Brand.
That thought burned away any lingering fear. Lunara would have only moments once she acted. She had to make them count.
