Time ticks by. How long have we been in the dark? How long have we left to ride?
Without my sight, I concentrate on my other senses. The beasts’ paws thumping stone, the drum of my heart beating, the beast’s soft fur against my fingers, and the scent of a dank cavern.
A silvery-blue light appears up ahead, and again I wonder if we are near the exit of the passageway, but then I notice that the light shines right through where Damien should be. This light is in my head, not in the cavern.
Phantom! I almost call their name when the fox comes into view. I’ve missed the embodiment of my ancestors so much, and it feels as if my heart might jump out of my chest and run to the ghostly creature. But I can’t speak. Not here when we’re obviously still within the confines of the enchantment.
Still, I can’t help but reach out for the buzz that connects us. I extend my magic, but no bond forms between us. Instead, I feel twisting, crawling darkness, as if the invisible hand of my power has plunged into a bucket of larvae. I draw my magic back into myself. As I do, Phantom melts into a dead thing, their fur swarming with maggots.
What I’m watching is heartbreaking, not simply because I need Phantom and this is not them, but because it’s the making of Phantom played in reverse. When I moved my anchor from the grandfather clock in my parlor to the dead body of the fox I’d been feeding on the property of Harcourt Manor, my ancestors filled the corpse, reanimating it and making it the anchor I needed. Now, the fox dies again and disintegrates into nothing, and with it, my hopes of practicing my magic as I once did.
Tears fall again from my already-sore eyes at the feelings of loss and grief this inspires in me. Everything is an ending these days. What I’d do to be shown a beginning.
As if Aurora is mocking me, the scene changes. I’m now in a nursery with an empty crib. The rocking chair rocks nothing but air. There are no children to play with the toys strewn across the floor. A black cloud moves through the room, ruffling the drapes. Drapes…sunshine…I know this room. It’s my old room in Harcourt, the one I was staying in until we had to leave.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but this story is happening in my brain. I’m still blind to the reality around me. I can’t take this anymore. This scene, this passageway is a nightmare, almost like being back on the shadowpath. Every part of me wants out.
Concentrating, I reach again for my magic. This time, I find it and hold on tight. It’s distant. Still, I sink my hooks into it and pull, like reeling in a massive fish. Without uttering a single syllable, I silently scream, Get out of my head! It’s just a thought, a thought only I can hear, but it sends a blast of power through my body.
The silvery blue light fades.
The vision of the nursery shatters.
I see Romulus’s mane tangled in my fingers.
I breathe out a sigh of relief and look around me. We’re inside a narrow corridor of stone. Pinpricks of light filter through the ceiling above us. It takes me a minute to realize that I’ve broken Aurora’s spell. Not just the scene I was locked inside but the magic’s entire effect on me. I can see. I can trust my own senses.
In front of me, I watch Damien shiver and then duck his head between his arms. The enchantment is still working, just not on me. I’ve shattered it, like I did Damien’s curse. Which means I am again the key. My magic has returned!
I ready myself to cast over Damien and free him from Aurora’s cage, but there’s no need. I see the opening in the mountain up ahead. We trot out into the moonlit forest at the base of the mountain.
Damien wipes his eyes with his hands and shakes himself. “We can speak now,” he says.
“Aurora sure as hell knew what she was doing when it came to enchantments.”
Damien laughs. “Yes, she did.”
“Where to next?” I ask, apprehensively eyeing the trees above my head. I understand now why the elves are so dangerous. One could be directly above us, and we’d never know until a poisoned arrow punctured our torso.
“Straight across Tenebris to Mount Damocles. It’s a three-day journey through the dark forest. This used to be neutral territory, but it’s all New Stygarde’s now.”
“New Stygarde,” I scoff. “You mean the shill kingdom of Willowgulch.”
“Right.”
“Do you think we have any hope of making it to the mountain alive?”
“I’d say we have a better-than-average chance. They’re attacking Dimhollow. They’ll expect us to stay under the protection of the witches, or perhaps to flee to Aendor and the seas. Those are both more likely choices than an active volcano. The heat may not kill us, but this experience will be unpleasant.”
“You make it sound so homey.”
“I only wish to prepare you.”
“And if the elves split up and send hunters after us?”
He glances my way, his dark waves and diamond eyes cutting a lovely contrast against the green woods. “Then we’ll fight. You’ll have a chance to try accessing your magic.”
I kick Romulus forward until we’re riding side by side. “It’s funny you should mention that, because I used it against Aurora’s enchantment, and it worked.”
