Then Dyna understood. Lady Samira’s Essence was not replenishing. It happened in old age. Unfortunately, they cannot survive without it. Essence was not only the energy source of all magic itself it was also the enchanted life force for mages and sorceresses.
“Well, the sun isn’t up quite yet. Rest a bit more.” Grandmother Leyla stood. “Autumn has arrived and we have much work to do in the garden before the frost sets in.”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
She shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Dyna settled down on her bed again, eyeing the cabinet lining the wall above her desk. Organized within the many squared drawers were several glass jars containing a variety of dried herbs, extracts, and powders. A small replica of the apothecary in the main room of the cottage.
For years, she studied all the ancient tomes of medicine that belonged to her father to fill in his place as Herb Master. She read all the magic books in his study, hoping to find the casting spell he used to send the demon back through the Netherworld Gate.
She never found it.
Even if she had, the books contained spells far beyond her ability. But magic lived in her blood, as it had in the many generations before her.
Dyna reached under her pillow, finding a familiar rectangular shape, and pulled it out. The journal was hefty. Its cover was made of smooth black leather, and the corners were cracked with age. Two gold clasps kept it locked tight. The journal was one of many others stacked inside an old wooden chest beneath her desk.
A current of the journal’s old magic that hummed through her in welcome. Her palms glowed a faint green with the awakening of her Essence.
She traced the heraldic sigil embossed on the cover: a crescent moon with a swirl of vines. It was the sigil of House Astron, one of the oldest mage families who hailed from the Magos Empire.
And the journal contained the answer she needed—a way to obliterate the Shadow.
Dyna checked to make sure Lyra still slept before waving a hand over the cover. The green light emitting from her palm grew brighter. The enchanted journal recognized her as kin, and the golden clasps unlocked. She opened the cover and the yellow pages crinkled in her fingers as she turned them, admiring the faded, elegant penmanship and sketches of plants and ancient relics.
A single blank page emerged in the middle of the journal. It had taken her months to realize it was blank on purpose, and a few months more to decipher the phrase needed to unveil the secret hidden there.
She brought the journal close to her lips and whispered,“Tellus, lunam, solis.”
Her hands flared with a brilliant green, triggering the embedded spell on the page, and fine gold dust whirled across the surface. It radiated with a swirl of purple magic and a hint of green from her own. Black ink appeared in the center and snaked outward in calligraphic strokes, twisting and curving as it formed a beautiful, detailed map of a continent in the shape of a stout chalice—the country of Urn.
She would need to cross its entire width to get what she needed, and the journey would take many moons. A little over a year remained before the Shadow returned. One meager year to find the weapon to vanquish it.
Dyna slipped out of the bed, wincing when her feet landed on the icy floor. She moved to the window layered in frost and peered out. Her home sat on a knoll overlooking the valley below. A light fog hovered over the sleepy village, smoke swirling out of chimneys. Beyond it glimmered a lake, the rolling hills spotted with sheep and grazing cows. North Star was peaceful and beautiful.
But it was no longer safe.
Dyna looked down at her little sister. She would make the council listen to her.
One way or another.
Chapter 2
Dynalya
Morning sunlight shone bright over the valley. Its idle warmth brushed Dyna’s cold cheeks as she took the dirt road into the village. Her thoughts were in knots trying to prepare a speech to present before the council. The plan of facing Lady Samira filled her mind with the last image of her father’s smile, stained by the crimson trails dripping down his face.
Dyna squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. She focused on Grandmother Leyla’s voice giving Lyra a lesson on commonly found plants and their uses.
“It’s important you learn this, Lyra. You will become a Healer’s Apprentice in the coming spring, and you must have the basics committed to memory. Every plant has a purpose, be it—”
“Sustenance, remedy or toxin,” Lyra recited in a flat tone. “Yes, I know, Gran.”
“Oh, do you? And pray tell what is the name of this plant?”
Dyna glanced over her shoulder at where they had stopped. Among the colorful carpet of flowers growing on the edge of the path, Grandmother pointed to a weed with broad hairy leaves.
Lyra scrunched her lip as she studied it. “Foxglove?”
