The world tilts sideways, and suddenly, I’m not standing on Arcana’s training field anymore. I’m somewhere else.
There’s a terrifying moment when I think Tharuzel has claimed me again. The panic that floods my cells is incredible.
But as I draw in a heaving breath, I realize this place smells different. Instead of smoke and hopelessness, this place smells of potential, like the crisp scent of ozone in the air during a summer rain.
That alone is enough to stop my spiral into hysterics. With my heart still hammering, I straighten and take in my surroundings.
Stone pillars rise around me, carved with runes that pulse faintly in the dark. In the center of the circle stands a woman. Her golden hair is wild, and her blue eyes blaze with fierce determination.
“Mom.” I’m about to race forward but feel the invisible barrier barring me from interacting.
This is a vision, not something happening in real time.
My mom raises her hands, pale blue fire erupting from her palms in brilliant, blinding arcs. The flames roar upward, illuminating the drawn and tortured faces of trapped souls.
Sebastian’s there, too. They’re working together, fighting against a powerful foe. “Yes, Zoe. We’re almost there. Hold on just a little longer.”
I feel the strain the spell takes on her. It’s ripping her apart, but she’s committed. If she dies tonight, she is content in the fact that her family will be safe.
Her beloved husband will raise her precious girls.
But then, it all goes wrong. All of a sudden, there are other witches surrounding her. Laurel’s there, younger, her silver hair shorter. She’s shouting something I can’t hear over the roar of flame. But when she gestures to her side, Mom’s focus is shattered.
Laurel brought my father to the ritual.
All the peace she’d felt a moment ago is lost.
He can’t be there.
The souls she was holding break free from her control, twisting into shapes that writhe and scream. Something dark writhes at the center of the circle.
Something powerful.
Tharuzel is breaking through the rift, capitalizing on the falter in the spell, pushing to gain his freedom.
Sebastian casts a perimeter, trying to force the three witches interfering out of the spell circle.
Mom tries to regain control. She pours everything she has into the spirit fire she’s commanding, her face illuminated by the inferno.
The heat is incredible.
Laurel retreats, hiding in the shadows beyond the stones.
My father doesn’t move. He’s transfixed, staring at my mom with a mix of pure admiration and worry warring in his eyes.
The moment hangs frozen in time. And then there’s a blast of magical energy so strong it’s like the detonation of a bomb.
The vision dissolves, and instead of a scene from years ago, she’s standing before me looking exhausted and sad. Her lips move, but I can’t make out what she’s saying over the thundering of my pulse in my ears.
I force myself to calm, to let the noise of the world around us fall away until only she and I remain. She steps closer, and when she rests her hand on mine, it’s soft, warm, achingly familiar.
And just like that, whatever spell was placed on me to forget her is gone.
The vision shatters as my childhood fills all the dark and lonely corners of my mind and heart.
My parents. My sisters. My ancestors. My life.
I gasp as everything I am expands and tethers to those that came before me—the Hallowind witches.
