“Good point,” Stefan said hastily. We decided to split the spell into six and write it on the egg like we wrote spells on plywood, gauging space and size of the words so we could connect them.
But after ten minutes, the impossibility of the task became clear. The egg kept shaking, the sand shifting. The third time, Yael was almost sucked into the sand before Daziel flew her out.
“This isn’t working,” Yael said. “We need a new strategy.”
If we couldn’t stand on the sand and write…we would need something that wouldn’t move. Or that we could move with. “We could write the spell on the top.” The egg was so large and broad, all six of us could easily fit on the top of the hull.
We all considered it. The neshem crystals’ glow cast strange gold and silver shadows across the blue egg. “We’d need a way to keep from falling off when it shakes, though,” Élodie said.
“The shell is thick. We could carve handholds,” Gidon suggested.
Everyone wore skeptical expressions, but no one offered a better suggestion. I supposed it could work. We’d have to make the handholds quick with our stylos, then keep one hand latched on as we set about writing the spell. It would be awkward and uncomfortable, and it might be our best bet.
“Okay,” I said. I turned to Daziel with a dazed smile. “Fly me up?”
Once more, he opened his arms, and I stepped into them. He flew me to the top, gently landing on the peak of the curved blue hull. Even knowing how thick the shell must be, I couldn’t help but be nervous I’d break it.
“Should I use your magic for the handholds?” I whispered to Daziel when we were alone. I was aware it would make these small things simple, but I was terrified to let it in until absolutely necessary.
He shook his head. Maybe he too was worried about how this would go. “Not yet.”
He flew up the others, and we quickly carved handholds and began writing the spell again. The rumbles came closer and closer together, and with each one, we grabbed our handholds, feeling as though the hatchling was trying to throw us off.
By the time we finished, the egg trembled constantly. “Do wecast the spell now?” Élodie asked nervously, her knuckles white as she gripped her hold. “What if doing it causes the Ziz to hatch?”
“Maybe we try to move it first,” I said, like it would be such a simple thing. I felt sick. This seemed like an impossible task. “Daziel?”
Gidon raised his head, staring at the cavern’s roof and its glittering crystals. “The water won’t crush us when it pours down? The riverbed won’t—fall and kill us? And the Ziz.”
I looked at Daziel, hoping he had answers.
Daziel tilted his head. “Youdidlearn about the human-shedim wars, did you not? You’re aware of what a bound pair can accomplish?”
“But you said the others shouldn’t stay, and I shouldn’t do the handholds,” I said, confused.
He moved to stand right before me, taking my hands in his. “Because I didn’t want you to handle the magic for longer than necessary. But I’m confident we can do this.”
I wasn’t confident, and I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t pretending to make me feel better, but I’d take it. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the memory of the violent rush of power washing through me. “Then there’s just the binding left.”
He nodded. His wings canted forward, veiling us briefly from the others. “You can use my ring,” he whispered. “That’s part of why a shayd’s signet is so precious. Slip it on in the other direction and say both of our names as you bind me.”
Shock slid through me. No wonder he’d been so angry when I tried to take his ring. “Your true name?” I confirmed. “Cathmeus?”
He placed his palm to my cheek, his gaze as tender as his touch. “With you, Daziel is my true name.”
I closed my eyes and nodded, feeling overwhelmed and scaredand hopeful. His warmth enveloped me, staving off the damp. I could hear my friends’ exhausted breathing; I could smell water and stone, heavy with minerals and the slight hint of petrichor neshem carried.
I took off his ring and returned it to my finger in the opposite direction, but the words lodged in my throat. I didn’t want to do this, to have Daziel’s burning magic rushing through me again, but I would. I would open myself up to it instead of fighting. By feel, I brought my hands to Daziel’s, brought his hands to my heart.Okay, I told myself. Told him.Okay, I’m ready.“Daziel, son of Cathmeus, son of Khasmodai. I, Naomi bat Yardena, bind you.”
Heady, swift power filled me, burning like fire, flowing like a river. Yet it didn’t feel as reckless as at the Rocks. My shoulders relaxed. Maybe this would be fine.
“Make a shield.” Daziel’s voice sounded like it came from far away. “Against the water, around us and the egg.”
I nodded. “Shield us, our friends, and the egg against water or rock or anything dangerous.”
I could feel the magic pulling out of Daziel, channeled through my words into a force snug over us and the egg. When I opened my eyes I could see a hint of it, a screen of golden light around us.
“Get rid of the roof. Let in the river.”
