Zev yanked her away. “What have you done?”
The old woman shrugged. “A little spell.”
Dyna’s heart jolted. “You cast a spell on me?”
A menacing growl rumbled in Zev’s throat, his wolf eyes surfacing as fur rippled along his arms. The old woman gasped and quickly jumped out of her stool. But she didn’t run. She glared at Zev as a stream of palpable energy crackled in the air, and static raised the hair on Dyna’s neck. Purple electricity sparked at the woman’s fingertips.
Zev leaned on the counter, his sharp claws splintering into the wooden surface, baring his teeth. “Undo whatever you’ve done to her,” he snarled. “Now!”
The old woman snapped her fingers. The world came to a standstill, and the buzz of the market vanished. Dyna spun around, finding people like statues. Some were mid-stride on the street, merchants with their hands cupped around their mouths, birds suspended in the air, tarps, and canopies caught mid-flutter in no perceivable wind. Her cousin’s face had stalled in a wild glare.
“Zev?” Dyna waved a hand over his eyes then tried to shake him when he didn’t respond. “Zev! What is this?”
It was as though life had stopped and left her outside of it.
“This is a rift in the Time Gate,” the old woman said, her Magos accent ringing true. Unlike Lord Norrlen’s softRs, hers were accentuated, seasoning her speech. “Time is a peculiar thing. Try as I may I cannot manage it to go forward orbackward.” She glowered at their surroundings. “But I’ve learned how to make it stop.”
“You did this?”
The old woman’s image blurred and rippled in a veil of purple light, then it dissolved to reveal a young woman. Dyna’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t one to fuss over her looks, not having the time to care about vanity, but she was immediately intimidated by the sorceress’s beauty.
White hair cascaded down her back in a river of starlight. She had graceful features; alabaster skin, lashes and brows like threads of silver, with soft pink lips, and too perfect cheekbones. Tight, black leather britches and a matching redingote hugged the curves of her long legs and slender waist. A medallion inlaid with diamonds, and a pearlescent stone in the center gleamed on her full chest—the very medallion seen among the pages of Azeran’s journal.
“You’re of the Lunar Guild …” Dyna whispered.
Day darkened, and thunderclouds rolled across the sky. The sorceress’s crystalline eyes glowed vibrant lilac as electricity spiraled around her, weaving through her locks. An invisible charge hung in the air with a violent energy that clashed against Dyna’s Essence.
She’d never felt such magic. So wild and untamed. In such abundance, it was primed to tear her apart.
“This is my only warning,” the sorceress hissed. “If you tell anyone of my whereabouts, I will hunt you down and leave you trapped in a time rift. Where you will remain until your bones turn to dust. I’ve spent far too many years in hiding to be caught now.”
Dyna took a staggering step back. “I—I would never speak of it. You have my word.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Then the sorceress snapped her fingers, and the world flashed a blinding white.
Dyna blinked frantically to clear her spotty vision. Life returned with an onslaught of market clamor and the bustle of movement around her.
“Witch! What spell did you … use?” Zev trailed off, his shout falling to a confused utterance.
The sorceress and her belongings had vanished. There was nothing but a vacant spot in the line of merchant stalls. As though she was never there.
For the first time in her life, Dyna heard Zev curse. He practically dragged her away in the direction Cassiel had gone, muttering the orison against dark entities.
She winced under his tight grip, stumbling to keep up with his rapid pace. “Zev—”
“God of Urn, Dyna. Only you would find a witch.”
She caught herself from correcting him. The sorceress warned her to remain quiet, but Dyna didn’t fault her for it. She had to protect herself to maintain her freedom outside of Magos.
“I should have known what she was. She smelled of wild magic.”
“You can smell magic?” This was the first time he’d mentioned it.
Zev’s brow furrowed. “When you use Essence, it smells like a spring mist in a meadow. Her Essence smelled of ... lightning.”
Lightning had a smell?
But that was exactly how Dyna would describe the power of the sorceress. It was like the crackle of lightning before a violent thunderstorm.
