Another expert, the one who identified the rare gem, also pipes up, “If Ada’s magick is being sapped constantly fighting the spell, an oversupply of magickal energy pushed into her will help fight it off, just like strengthening the immune system to fight an infection. That said, it might be the most effective to also push ethereal spark, as the fae called it, back into her from the other artifact to not only offset what has been lost but also to strengthen her physically to aid her magick in fighting the spell.”
Niven’s expression sinks. “But whose life force would we take? For all we know, it could kill someone instantly. It is fae designed after all. We do not know the strength of life force or the lifespans of those who created this item.” He nods his head toward the relic sitting on the table near him. “You think whoever wore that crown cared if it killed the being it was stealing the life from? I don’t. We can’t ask anyone here to potentially sacrifice their life,” Niven argues.
There’s some shuffling movement in the room at this grim realization. Acton stands up and faces Niven. “I have already lived a lifetime, and I have another to spare. I will do it,” he says quietly.
“No, Acton! I can’t risk losing you!” Ada blurts out.
Turning his head, he smiles at her and then at Walt, a gleam of something determined and sure in his eyes. “You won’t,” hefinally replies. “My life has more meaning with you in it. Maybe I can’t risk losing you. Besides, we don’t want you to return to your teenage years.” He hums a small laugh. “So if there’s any of my life force left after you recovered what you lost, I want to give it to Walt.”
Walt gasps and raises his hands to his mouth. He shakes his headnowhile staring at Acton. His willingness to be the test subject spurs multiple conversations around the room, chattering about minimizing the risk and attempting smaller transfers of life force in the initial attempts.
“Acton, I can’t agree to this. I can’t agree to something that is designed to harm you and shorten your lifespan. It doesn’t matter if your natural lifespan is longer. It’s because you’re a dryad. My body is not designed to live centuries. Yours is.” Strong emotion laces Walt’s voice.
“This is mayhap an opportunity no one has had in many centuries, millennia even. I could not live those long extra years at the end of my life in good conscience if we do not take this opportunity. It may not work at all. But at least we will have tried,” Acton explains, his position unwavering.
“I’m not sure if I need to even ask you, but are you sure, Acton? You give your consent to let our experts attempt to take some of your life force to give to Ada and potentially to Walt as well?” Niven confirms.
“Yes, I know it’s what I must do.” His serenity upholds the truth of it.
Niven studies him closely, and a smile curls the edges of his mouth. “Let our experts examine these relics further. We will attempt to use them tomorrow afternoon, barring any unforeseen circumstances like a sudden decline in Ada’s health. Then, once that process is complete and we are confident that Ada has recovered, we will finally deal with this fae. I’m sure we all share in the relief knowing its days are numbered.”
The meeting continues, but its focus shifts toward examination of the relics and discussion of how best to use them. The experts believe the fae could command the magick as they wore or handled the items, as the Banner of Life is clearly a crown. It would also likely mean fae are corporeal in their realm, unlike in ours. Niven asks me and Elgar to join them while the witches carefully test their power.
He purses his lips at the relics. “Do you think your abilities could control their flow of magick? You may have a lighter touch with them than any of us,” he says gesturing to the other witches with us.
Elgar and I share a look. His eyes narrow in concern. “What would you have us do?” he asks.
Niven nods in understanding at Elgar’s confusion. “Ada will likely be unable to command the crown, as she does not have magick to use it. We would like one of you to monitor the flow of magick from this relic as one of our experts tries to absorb life force from Acton to transfer into Ada. It will likely be safer for Acton that way.”
Elgar is unpersuaded. “This relic is powerful. Too powerful for any of us to use safely. Norrell and I could absorb some of its magick now to try to weaken it to the point of injuring but not killing the dryad on contact.”
My mood turns grim. He is right that the power contained within this relic is not meant for Whispered Folk to control. “Do we risk breaking it?” I point out.
“Yes.” Elgar sounds sure. “It is unusable in this form anyway. It is a death sentence.”
“There is truth in that,” I agree, though it is only an educated guess. But Elgar’s observation is correct. The guilt would be crushing if Acton was harmed.
“Ready?” Elgar asks me while pulling a piece of clear quartz from his pocket.
“As ever,” I say wryly. My bracelet from Ada still circles my wrist.
This is a much more delicate process than we are used to. I concentrate on the source of power in the crown. Elgar is doing the same beside me. The magick within it is complex and layered, like several spells have enchanted it, though I have no idea what they individually do. To keep them intact, we work to draw out the magick slowly enough that we weaken but not disrupt the balance of the individual spells. Doing so could nullify the relic’s power.
Elgar shifts next to me. “Pull back. We risk the enchantment.”
“Good call. We are almost there,” I say through my clenched jaw.
Finally, I draw back as well. The magick within the item is diminished to the point it will not kill anyone on contact anymore—an improvement.
Niven’s gaze moves between us. “Is it safer now?”
Elgar shrugs. “It is still dangerous. But we risk breaking it if we take any more. It requires an extraordinary amount of magick to support it.”
Niven nods in understanding. “If one of us could activate it, do you think you could control the level of magick flowing from it while it’s being used? We should try the gem first. Something a little less deadly.”
“We can try. It may help us understand the crown better,” I agree.
Esmeralda raises her hand. “Me! Go ahead and try it on me first,” she enthusiastically volunteers.
