“That so?”Rezer said lightly, though his magic flared in reflex before he forced it back under control.“Funny.I was thinking the same about you.”
The pull shifted, not deeper into the forest, not toward the anchor.Sideways.Redirecting.Testing.
You will come when the daughters arrive.You will come when the balance needs you.You were there when we were created and protected us when we needed you.
Something twisted in his chest.A flicker of memory.A battlefield, confusion and fear, then determination tofixwhatever had happened, and yes, to protect.
“Not this time.”
The pressure tightened, finally edging toward restraint.
You will.
The words weren’t quite as controlled this time, obviously annoyed with his lack of cooperation.
Rezer smiled, slow and dangerous.
“No,” he said softly.“That’s where you’re wrong.”
He felt the forest lean even closer, attention sharpening.
“I don’t choose what’s expected,” he continued.“That’s boring.”
Displeasure rolled through the trees, thick and heavy.
Rezer turned away from the direction of the pull, away from this place that he realized held something: magic, memory, and blood.The resistance spiked, a sharp warning hum crawling along his nerves.“Save it,” he muttered.“If you could stop me, you would have already.”He took a step.Then another.Behind him, the presence pressed close one last time.
She is not outside this.
Rezer didn’t slow.He knew exactly who the Chamber spoke of.
“No,” he agreed.“She’s not.”And that was exactly the problem.
He angled his path away from the old anchor it had managed to stop him in and toward a thinner place he’d been avoiding all morning.Toward the long way out.Toward a reflection the Chamber couldn’t quite smother without revealing its hand.Toward Lisa.He continued to feel the presence of the Chamber, or what was in the Chamber, he still wasn’t really sure which he was dealing with.Felt it stay right with him, pushing, or trying to.Rezer kept walking.
The forest finally made a mistake.
Rezer felt it the instant the resistance faltered, not vanished, not withdrawn, just ...uneven.Like a grip that had tightened too long and lost precision.
He slowed, eyes scanning the space ahead.
Water.Not a puddle.Not the dull, lightless pools the forest had been feeding him since dawn.This was a narrow stream cutting through stone, its surface smooth and uninterrupted, reflecting the canopy above in fractured strips of green and gray.Finally, a real reflection.Unobstructed.
The pull behind him surged, sharp and irritated.But, it was too late.Rezer stepped to the edge of the stream and crouched, studying the surface.His reflection stared back, clear, intact, eyes too bright for comfort.Magic rippled faintly beneath his skin, reacting to the proximity like a held breath finally released.
“You should’ve blocked this one,” he said quietly.“Sloppy.”
The forest tightened around him, branches creaking, roots shifting beneath the soil.The pressure behind his ribs spiked, not command this time, but warning.
Still not done with you,the presence pressed.
Rezer straightened, already shedding his coat, fingers loosening the blade at his side.“I never said I was done with you, either.”
He stepped forward.The stream rippled once, then split, the surface thinning like glass under pressure.Cold air rushed up around him, sharp and clean and unmistakably human.For a heartbeat, the forest strained, magic pulling hard enough to burn.
Rezer didn’t look back.
“Just a suggestion,” he said calmly, “that next time you want to stop me, you should try harder not to underestimate me.”The water sealed behind him with a soft, harmless sound.
