But he’s got us to help him now; as we crowd around him, supporting him with our closeness and touch, I wrap my arms around his waist. As I kiss him, we help him become stable; I feel him remember he’s a good man under siege by his addiction as he kisses me gently back, then tucks me beneath his arm like a bolster against the massive temptation he feels in here.
And it’s not just him feeling it. We’re all experiencing an intense drive to use our power here, to be gods with it, and to rush up to that place of star-stones in the Void and just fucking alter the entire cosmos with our might. It’s an overwhelming feeling, as we all fight it now, though none of us are addicted to magic like Baldur.
And I know, all through my blood and bones, that we’ve found our power spot.
“We do the Soulstone rituals here, tonight,” I say now, as I know no other place in Eriksson lands is even going to come close to what we’ve discovered here, almost by fate. “Baldur, head back to the Old Palace with Ström and Lærke to get the Soulstone from its safe box. Bjorn, Mikkel, you’re with me; we need to inspect this area with both our Bone and Blood Magic to make sure there are no surprises. We meet back here. Ström, if you could get us some sustenance, water, and maybe some bedding to make our time here more comfortable, that would be great.We’re here for the duration, until we’ve got answers from our most ancient Ancestors about the Rift, and the Soulstone’s demolished. Let’s get to it. And pray to the Old Gods that we’ve got what it takes to be victorious.”
“We do—and we will.” Ström gives me a lingering kiss, then summons Baldur and Lærke. Baldur gives me a kind, gentle kiss, but Lærke steps forward next, taking my hands as she gives me a quick peck on both cheeks.
“Stay safe, sister.” Her eyes are lavender-green now from her changed power, and glorious, though deeply serious, as she regards me. “Rikyava… there is no way I can properly thank you for what you’ve done for me tonight. Something about you heals hearts; though I was not destined to be part of your Bloodbond like Mikkel is, I know you’ve healed his heart by mating with him. And you’ve… healed my heart tonight, by freeing me from my past. So I can even have a future at all.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” I say, as I grip her hands in return. “You trusted no one with your heart other than Mikkel. But you did tonight, trusting all of us to hold you and see the real Lærke who lives inside everything else. I think my power only unlocked what was already there, yearning to come out. She is there; a powerful, incredible drakaina like a beautiful spring lark… when all you thought left was only darkness.”
“I never trusted anyone but Mikkel to hold my heart and know my deepest secrets. You shattered all that when we met. I’m glad,” Lærke says now as her bright eyes burn in the gloom, and I know it’s the power of her newfound trust that ignites them.
And the power of her newly healed heart.
“I’m honored to be your sister, in battle and out of it,” I say now, as I release one hand to place my palm to my chest—feeling the deep sister-bond that exists between us now, rather than Lithava’s. “Bloodbond or no, you’re family now, and I’m glad. If there’s anything I’m learning from this entire craziness with the Black Dragon, it’s that family is what we make of it. I don’t have a family anymore; Lithava’s alive, but she doesn’tcount. You do count; you and all my drakes. What I’ve come to understand is that we choose our family, regardless of the one we were born into. I couldn’t be happier with the family we’re building now. Together.”
“I am, too,” she tells me, as she honors me by placing her own hand on her heart. Her lips lift into a beautiful smile as we share a tender moment, as sisters.
Then we’re letting go, as she turns to head out with Ström and Baldur. It leaves me with Bjorn and Mikkel, as we all take a turn around the space now to make sure there are no booby traps or anything else disastrous here.
Other than the star-sigils cascading across the floor of the space as well, we find no anomalies of magic here to trip us up. It seems this truly is a focusing chamber of some sort, to amplify any Bloodwalking ritual done here so it can penetrate deeply into the Void.
Once begun, I have no doubt that’s what this space will do for our rituals, as Baldur, Ström, and Lærke return now as their dragons, flying in down the long tunnel with several silver silk fly-bags in their talons.
Baldur has the Soulstone in his jaws. Shining bright white like its own star dominating the night skies, the runes all around us flare far more brightly now, to have that object of power in this place.
As living fire cascades around the vast dome from the runes here resonating with the Soulstone, I see how it brightens each standing stone tenfold. Suddenly, we’re standing in a hall of shimmering light, like we’ve been thrust right through the fabric of space and out into the living Void already, when we haven’t even done a damn thing yet.
Ström whistles as he shifts down, gazing around the space with us as we marvel at the change. As Baldur sets the Soulstone down, right in the center of the cavern, the luminosity of the star-stones ripples all around.
A shockwave of power pulses through the cavern; as Baldur shifts down, Lærke after him, all of us are on high alert now.
Nothing happens, though. The hall is inert, except for the auric fire now blowing through the far brighter star-stones all around.Settling, we unpack, getting food and water set up in one area, and a ginormous pile of feather duvets, rugs, and pillows assembled around the Soulstone in the cavern’s center.
The cavern waits, doing nothing but glimmering throughout its ancient stars. As all is in order, a massive sigh heaves from all of us. I survey the space one last time and realize we’re ready.
Though none of us has any clue what comes next.
12
LODESTONE
We prepare for our Bloodwalking in the usual way, with a stylus to prick our wrists and a ceremonial bowl to catch the blood. As we decorate our skin with the proper sigils to harness our energies and contact our Ancestors, I reflect upon how none of us quite knows what we are doing now, or what we are about to face.
Unlike other times we’ve gone into a true Bloodwalking, we don’t have any idea what happens next. We’ve always had a plan before. Now, we only have the barest idea of how we might use Hedda’s wights’ energies inside the Soulstone to amplify my connection to the Black Dragon—and find our most ancient Ancestors, so they can tell us about the Rift.
After that, if we get any information at all about the Rift and how it was made, we have to destroy the Soulstone intrue love’s unity—something Baldur channeled about the Soulstone’s end, way back when he created it.
But none of us has any idea what that means, exactly. We’re going on the vague assumption that we need to be fucking to raise our massiveOuroboros in the skies with our magic, which creates our most potent auric fire.
When all else fails, give a Bloodwalking blood and sex; Baldur’s sigils on each of us are finished now, as I glance around my drakes and Lærke, and know all is in readiness with the blood part.
Second up—sex.
Lærke grips my hands, giving me a hard, battle-ready smile, then steps away to be sentinel again for me and my drakes. Of us all, she’s the only one not decorated with blood-sigils tonight; though Lærke and I share a familial bond now, it’s not a true Bloodbond.
