“It could be Seren,” Ara said, her voice hoarse. “She’s powerful–”
“It’s you, Ara. Will you do this?” he asked, his words tumbling from him now. “It’s your choice. If you say no, I’ll hand you the wand and you can turn it over to Seren. Save her from expulsion and watch Ariminta become Olympia’s protégé. The world will continue as it is now.”
Ara’s jaw clenched at the thought, and Calder seemed to notice.
“Or, we use the wand to unleash your powers, turn it over to Seren, save her from expulsion, and you take your rightful place as Olympia’s protégé when the time comes. To change the world as the vessel.”
Clouds covered the moon overhead so that Calder's face hid in the darkness, his features obscured by the shadows.
“I still don’t see what you get out of it,” Ara said, though ambition and hope were warring with reason in her mind.
“My father went mad trying to bring about the Age of Unity,” Calder said, wetting his lower lip and gesturing with his hands. “My entire life was ripped apart. I need to do this, Ara. I need to finish what he started.”
Ara was silent as she considered his words. She had made her father a promise before he died. What would it feel like if she was unable to keep it? Would she go to the lengths Calder was willing to go? She knew she would.
“What do we need to do?” Ara asked, her voice trembling as she met his eyes.
“You just stand there,” Calder instructed, lifting his shoulders and gesturing at her. “I’ll do all the work.”
“And how do you know it will work?” Ara asked, her breaths short and quick. This could very easily end in her death. Old magick was fickle. It was why wands were done away with.
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m very confident.” Calder winked and stepped back, holding the wand out in front of him. “But also, this wand has been passed down from Darkmore to Darkmore. It recognizes me, and I it. I promise you, Ara, I will not harm you.”
Ara held still, not even breathing now as she watched him. A lock of hair fell over his forehead, but he didn’t push it out of the way. His stance was wide, and the arm held out was rigid, tensed with the effort of holding the wand as if its immense power was a tangible heavy thing. He moved it in a loose figure eight. The movement undulating and sensual. His dark green magic flowed into the wand and it trembled before shooting out and gripping her body.
She could feel it searching her, seeking the cause of whatever was blocking her access to the rest of her power, and then all at once it surged into her mind. The dark green magic paused, testing the barrier before ripping through it, shreds of white magic left in its wake.
Calder’s power rushed back to him, leaving her cold and empty in its absence, and they both stood gasping.
He slipped the wand back into his jacket and ran to her, sweeping her into his arms and spinning her around, her long hair trailing behind them. “That was amazing! Are you okay? How do you feel?”
She laughed as he put her down. “I feel fine. Better than fine. I feel alive. I feel like . . . I want a piece of chocolate.” She held out her hand.
Calder shook his head, reaching into his pocket and unwrapping the small square. “Let me.”
Ara rolled her eyes at his forwardness but indulged it. He was close enough that she could smell his cologne and the salty, sweet tang of the magic lingering on his skin. She could see the small smattering of freckles along his nose and cheeks and the flare of the strange orange starburst around his pupils. She had never been so close to a man before, her father excluded.
Calder placed the square of chocolate on her tongue with gentle reverence and then brushed her lower lip with his thumb.
Ara closed her eyes and let out a small noise as she savored the taste as it melted on her tongue. Calder’s hand moved from her lip to the back of her neck, and his other hand was now around her waist.
“Look at me, Ara,” he whispered, his lips against her ear. She could have stayed that way forever. “You are magnificent. I have thought that since the moment I saw you.”
A force ripped her away from him before she could open her eyes. She was thrown from their hidden corner and into the statue, pain shooting through her body as she collided with the carved stone. Her vision blurred as she struggled to stand.
Seren stood in between them, her body crackling with dark lightning, her eyes empty and black as a starless void, and her hair whipping behind her despite the windless night.
Calder clapped, pausing between each one, the sound echoing off the stone walls around them, his face had turned from handsome and open to sharp and cruel. “I wondered how long it would take you to make your presence known, Seren. Hiding in the shadows isn’t your style. You want to be the center of attention. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist showing up as soon as I told you I wanted to meet with Ara, but this does not concern you.”
“Do not touch my sister, Calder Darkmore.” Seren’s voice was deep and vast, a well of untapped power echoed within.
Ara watched in horror as Calder and Seren faced each other. Calder shook his arms out and clenched his fists, a dark green light radiating from them. The creamy taste of the chocolate had turned bitter on her tongue. Seren faced him head-on.
Ara tried to stand, but her legs weren’t cooperating. Her hands scrambled against the ledge behind her, struggling to find purchase.
“Stop,” she whispered, her hands shaking and her stomach cramping. Her magic was flooding her body, the barrier that once held it at bay gone now, and something was terribly wrong with her. “Please stop.”
“What is it you want, Calder Darkmore?” Seren demanded. She looked like vengeance personified.
