I switched to my other sight instinctively. I normally didn't use it while in Danu. I could see the auras of every living thing but in Danu, where auras were called asha, magic imbued the colors with sparkling power. Every aura in Danu held those bright glimmers, especially those of the Danutians, and it could get distracting. But I turned away from the glittering ashas to face the mountains to my right and searched for... I don't know what I was searching for. I was desperate to help.
Then I saw it. Yellow in a shade somewhere between neon and pineapple—the very same color I'd seen in the forge that day. A panicked and inciting color. In this case, it was inciting the mountains to shake. Could I calm it? Calm a mountain? But I wouldn't be calming the mountain, would I? I'd be calming the magic within the mountain. And perhaps that was possible.
I went with my old standby for subduing people and hoped it would work on Danu—amethyst, a color that when applied heavily enough could even put people to sleep. I stepped toward the other side of the bridge even as the Danutians breathed a collective sigh of relief over the first averted catastrophe. I didn't bother to warn them; they'd realize that it wasn't over soon enough. I needed to focus on the colors before me and hopefully, their assistance wouldn't be needed.
I didn't have to lift my hands or brace myself. I just stood at the stone railing and stared. All I needed to use my magic was my eyes, which could be both a blessing and a curse. That bright yellow hung in the air over the entire mountain—an aura for a landmass. I once thought that was impossible but thanks to the Fusion, my magic has grown and allowed me to see things I wasn't able to before. I'd seen the Earth's aura from outer space so why not a mountain? Granted, I hadn't attempted to alter the Earth's aura but a mountain was significantly smaller than a planet.
I connected with the vibrant, rebellious color and started to change it. A section maybe fifty feet across shifted instantly to amethyst. The edges around it were lavender but darkened as I watched. It was working; I was changing a mountain's aura, or asha in this case. Then I sensed someone at my back. A lot of someones. Everan and Nial stepped up to flank me, Everan making a soft sound of dismay as he switched into his second sight and saw what I saw. My grandparents moved up beside us seconds later with their knights. They lined the bridge as they had on the opposite side and the knights began to settle into their stances.
“Hold!” my grandfather shouted. “Give my granddaughter time to work.”
I pushed the color outward; it grew in spurts. I started to tremble. Everan shifted behind me and laid his hands on my shoulders. His energy surged into me, reviving my strength. I inhaled deeply and pushed more magic into the tremendous asha before me. The rumbling went down a few notches. Amethyst spread through the mountain's asha, colors seeping like ink in water. I shrugged off Everan's hands. I could feel him weakening and I realized that I didn't need his help. I had the asha of an entire realm to draw upon.
As I mentioned earlier, I could now take aura—or rather, the life force connected to it—as fuel. I assumed that I'd barely need a sip from a mountain's asha to refuel me. So, as amethyst crept up from the mountain's base, I drew on the remaining bits of yellow. I figured that it would fuel me while simultaneously weakening the mountain. I took only the tiniest amount since it was my first time feeding on Danu. Technically, we were constantly fueling each other—the realm revived my magic and then it cycled back into Danu—so taking extra fuel might not have any effect or it could make things worse. I simply didn't know—thus the tentative sip.
As soon as I started to draw on the mountain's asha, the amethyst retracted like a drying sponge. Feeding on the yellow had the unexpected result of making it stronger. It defied all reason. But, I was prepared for an adverse reaction and I immediately stopped siphoning the color. When I did, the amethyst bloomed outward again. I used the last of my strength to push it over the peaks and cover the mountain. The rumbling ceased, the realm went still, and I stumbled against the railing. Everan grabbed me and took my weight.
I looked up at him and smiled. “I just put a mountain to sleep.”
Then I passed out.
Chapter Six
I woke up in an enormous pink bed. Swaths of blushing silk hung over me, embroidered with golden flowers. I blinked up at the extravagant canopy, then lowered my gaze to the dusky rose quilt that had been pulled up to my shoulders. The bed spread out around me, marooning me in the center of a sea of velvet and silk. Past the shores of that sea, a luxurious room waited. A fireplace stood to my right, its dark mouth covered by a painted screen. Above it, on its gilded mantle, a tall mirror loomed between a matching set of pink vases. A swan chaise lounge angled before the fireplace and a slender, round table stood beside it, its polished top holding a pair of gloves. Directly before me, a dressing table perched on dainty legs beneath a soaring window. Another mirror stood upon its marble top and a feminine chair sat before it.
To one side of the dressing table, a glass door opened on a long balcony. I could see the mountain I'd calmed rising beyond the balcony's railing, snow still crowning its peaks. Plants filled that outdoor space to bursting and a cool breeze scented with snow flowed in through the open doorway. To my left were three doors, a small dining set, and my husband. Everan slouched on a chair beside me but once he saw that I was awake, he surged to his feet and moved onto the mattress.
“How are you feeling?” Everan asked urgently.
“Fine.” I sat up. “Where am I?”
“Your mother's rooms,” he said with the reverent hush people use in graveyards. “Your grandparents have kept it as it was the day she left—down to the open door which they refused to let me shut.”
“Like a shrine,” I whispered and looked down at the bed. “My mother slept here.”
“Yes,” he confirmed even though it wasn't a question.
“The mountain held,” I abruptly changed the topic.
“Yes.” Everan waved a hand toward the balcony and the mountain beyond. “Whatever you did, it stopped the second avalanche.”
“I saw that color again,” I went grim as it all returned to me. “That shade of yellow I saw at the forge, it was covering the mountain.”
“Yes, I saw it too.”
“Yes, of course, you did,” I murmured. “I just forgot.”
“It appeared to me that the color had infected the mountain's asha.”
“I don't know what's happening here, Everan, but I think we need to stop it.”
“Are you feeling up to another excursion?” He looked me over warily.
“Sure.” I waved him off the bed.
Everan got up and I slid out from between the covers. He brought my shoes to me and frowned at me as I put them on.
“I'm fine,” I assured him. “Truly.”
