Looking up, I met his gaze: an intense, piercing stare. His fingers caressed my hand gently, the way I might expect a nobleman to take his date’s arm.
Tilting my head, I stared back. “What? Something on my face?”
Dropping my hand, he grabbed Athena’s reins. “Be careful. The path ahead is treacherous.”
“Okay”, I muttered, trailing after him. After last night, I thought I’d begun to understand him—evidently not.
Whisper stuck to my side as we descended the mountain’s slope, finding ourselves in a sea of red trees buried in slanted earth. With every step, the unease in my breast intensified—a feeling I knew well meant the Empty drew near.
The mix of emotions confused me. Nobody else felt what I did. The unease, I could understand. But what was this aching nostalgia I sensed as well? It wasn’t unpleasant, far from it. Had I a home and family to return to, I imagined this nostalgia would warm my breast as I walked the road back to them.
A great wall of black barred our path forward. I traced its edges, following the faint glow of red that crested the mountains and reached for the heavens. Steeling myself, I joined Seth by its border.
Wind tore through the trees, stirring Seth’s hair. He stared into the void, eyes focused on the still sea resting below the sheer cliff.
“I’ve never known,” I mused, grabbing my elbow. “How long does it take to become tainted?”
“I’m not sure”, Seth answered, gaze fixed ahead. “A long time. Days.”
“Why would anyone subject themselves to that?” I wondered. “Why would Percy?”
“He hasn’t told me. But I have a guess.” Seth turned toward me. “Give me your hand.”
Tentatively offering my hand, my breath caught when he gently took it and ran a finger up my palm.
“Magic needs intent.” He said. “That’s true for all of us. You cannot create that which you don’tintend.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the last two times I’d encountered the Empty. “But the times when I stopped the Empty, I wasn’t trying. When I did, I failed.”
“Perhaps. But you were missing something yesterday.”
A sharp nick of pain flashed across my palm. Gasping, I pulled back my hand to see he’d driven his knife across my skin, drawing a few flecks of scarlet. Cupping my hand, I stared at the pooling blood.
“Chthonic magic is simple,” Seth said. “Haimyx governs life and death. Our magic is no different. We risk death to chase life. But it’s a gamble we believe is worth taking.” Placing his hand under mine, he guided me forward. “Do you understand?”
“I think so”, I said, looking up. “Like leaping into a fire to save someone.”
He nodded, releasing my hand and stepping back. Taking a deep breath, I studied the blood on my palm. My life was a small price to pay. Extending my arm toward the abyss, I focused on that: my desire to destroy the Empty, to warp it to my whims. In exchange, I offered my life.
Nothing happened.
I bit my lip, willing the blood welling in my hand to shoot forward and do. . .something.
Lowering my hands, I glanced at Seth.
“Did you feel anything?” He asked.
“No. Am I supposed to?”
“Yes.” He returned to my side. “When you first earn your magic, it swirls within you, like a storm begging to be released.”
“I don’t feel anything like that.”
“Maybe it isn’t blood you need.” He leaned on a tree and folded his arms. “Think back to when you saved Percy. When you stopped the Empty in the marshlands. What were you doing? Thinking?”
Wiping my hand off, I ran my fingers through my hair, straining to recall. I’d been panicked, no? Both by my imminent doom and Percy’s.
But so had I panicked at the outpost, and no magic had answered my call.
