Cassie managed a small, humorless smile.“You say that like modern magic’s a joy.”
They stood there, and Cassie felt the weight of the moment settling heavy around them.She reached out.Elora took her hand without hesitation, grip fierce and grounding.
“Whatever this Chamber wants,” Elora said, her voice steady despite the tension coiled through her, “it picked the wrong women.”
Cassie lifted her chin, heart pounding, not with terror, but resolve.“Then let’s get this over with,” she said.“I imagine Trik and Cush will be tearing down the trees before too long if they’ve realized the bonds are completely blocked.We might not be on this adventure alone for much longer anyways.”
Together, they continued forward.Cassie heard rustling and looked behind them.The forest closed in behind them, blocking the path where they’d come from.“Onward it is,” she whispered as she turned back and followed after Elora.
CHAPTER8
“Because I thought we were getting along well.I don’t trim your branches, you don’t allow magical Chambers to invade my dreams.Seems like a win-win.”~Rezer
Rezer woke suddenly, not gently, not to birdsong or soft light slipping beneath his lashes, but like a hand closing around his throat and yanking him out of sleep.
He jerked upright, breath punching in hard enough to hurt.His shirt clung to his skin, damp with sweat.The lantern on the table beside the bed burned low, its flame thin and trembling, as if it had barely survived the night, too.For a long moment, he didn’t move.He just listened.
The little house tucked into the hillside should have felt like it always did: quiet, solid, rooted.Stone and living wood, roots braided into beams overhead, the curve of the ceiling mirroring the hill that cradled it.A place you retreated to when you were tired of crowds and kings and casinos.
This morning it felt ...alert.
The walls felt thinner somehow.Like something on the other side was leaning in.
“Perfect,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face.“Didn’t need restful sleep anyway.”
His heart was still racing.That wasn’t new.What bothered him was the echo of it, like there had been another heartbeat tangled with his in the dream.Quieter.Steady.Comforting in a way that made his skin prickle.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and caught his reflection in the small mirror across the room.For half a breath, he didn’t recognize himself.Too pale.Eyes too bright.Shadows beneath them carved a little too deep.And behind him, just for an instant, the room looked wrong.The corners darker.The light sharper.As if someone had adjusted the contrast on reality.He blinked.The moment snapped back into place.
Rezer stared at the mirror.“That’s new,” he said flatly.
He crossed to the washbasin and splashed cold water on his face.The shock chased away the last of the fog, but not the tightness behind his eyes, not the image burned there.
The door.
It had been clearer this time.No fog.No half-formed impressions of stone and shadow.Justthere.Solid.Ancient.A slab of rock carved with a sigil split clean down the middle, light etched into one half, darkness into the other, fused so tightly his bones had hummed in response.
He’d stood before it, close enough to touch.Cracks had spidered from the center, thin and branching.Light leaked from the bright side, shadow from the dark, the two threads curling toward one another like they were desperate to meet.And behind it—voices.Not whispers this time.Words.Old.Heavy.Hungry.
Come.Rezer, it has been long enough.Come and bring your female of light.
He shuddered, water dripping from his chin.“Yeah,” he told the empty room.“Don’t see that happening.”
He dried his face and crossed to the nearest wall, resting his palm against the smooth, living wood.The tree’s magic pulsed faintly beneath his hand, sap moving, leaves somewhere above catching the early light.
“Is this you?”he asked quietly.The house.The forest.Whatever had decided to involve itself.“Or are you letting this in?Because I thought we were getting along well.I don’t trim your branches, you don’t allow magical Chambers to invade my dreams.Seems like a win-win.”It didn’t answer.But the hum beneath his palm shifted.Not brightening the way light magic did.Not deepening into the cold satisfaction of dark.It braided, warm and cool, push and pull, threads twining together into something that made his own power stir uneasily, unsure whether to lean in or recoil.
Rezer hissed and pulled his hand away.“Right,” he muttered.“Very reassuring.”
He made a quick circuit of the room, checking his wards on instinct.Shadow lay where he’d woven it, neat, spider-fine nets over the windows and door, responsive and loyal beneath his touch.At least something in his life still listened.His gaze snagged on the bedside table.On the small square of paper resting there.
He’d told himself he brought it home to study the ink.To see if there was lingering magic clinging to it.That lie hadn’t survived five seconds.The truth was simpler.He wanted it close because it made him feel closer to her; after all, she’d practically stroked the thing like a pet as she’d stared at it for longer than he knew she’d ever admit.
He picked it up, thumb brushing the sharp letters.You stood me up, Sunshine.I don’t take rejection well.
Still amused by it.Still annoyed she’d tucked it away like something precious when she thought he wasn’t looking.
Lisa.
