I closed my eyes, reaching deep inside for the wellspring of my joy magic. But the sigil’s pull made it hard to focus on anything positive. All I could feel was the cold, the draining sensation, and the fear of failure.
“I can’t,” I gasped. “It’s blocking me.”
“Yes, you can.” Kieran’s voice cut through my panic. “Focus on something that brings you joy. Something powerful.”
I tried to think of home, of sunny days in the flower fields, of Quandary’s antics, but those memories felt distant, muted by the sigil’s power.
Then Kieran’s free hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with my own.
“Think of us,” he said softly. “That night. Remember how it felt.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let myself remember the warmth of Kieran’stouch, the way he’d looked at me like I was important, the feel of his lips on mine. The joy that had blazed through me, bright and all-consuming.
Power surged in my veins, golden and warm. I channeled it down through my free hand, pressing my palm to the altar beside Kieran’s. Joy magic poured from me in waves, colliding with the sigil’s hungry pull.
The sigil flared with blinding light, red and gold clashing where they met. The stone beneath our feet began to tremble.
“Don’t stop.” Kieran’s voice echoed in the room, tight with exertion. His shield flickered around us as the sigil fought back, sending pulses of dark energy against his barrier.
I pushed harder, drawing on every scrap of joy I could muster. Memories flashed through my mind. My mother’s laugh. The first time I successfully cast a spell. The day I bonded with Quandary. Those wonderful days with Kieran six years ago. His smile now when he thought no one was looking.
The sigil’s lines began to fracture, hairline cracks spreading through the intricate pattern.
“It’s working,” I cried out.
But as the words left my mouth, the sigil’s strength grew. A wave of energy slammed into Kieran’s shield, and he grunted with pain. His fingers tightened around mine almost to the point of bruising.
“Kieran!”
“Keep going,” he growled. Blood trickled from his nose, but his eyes remained fixed on the sigil. “We’ve almost got it.”
I could see the toll it was taking on him. His shield was weakening, the edges flickering as the sigil’s power battered against it. If it fell completely, we’d be at the mercy of the backlash.
Shifting closer, I pressed my side against his. “Take my strength.”
I changed the flow of my magic, directing some of it not into the sigil but into Kieran himself. Gold light spiraled around us.
His eyes widened, then darkened with something more intense. “Cyrene, what are you?—”
“Trust me,” I echoed his earlier words.
For a moment, I felt his resistance, though not against me. He fought accepting help and showing weakness. But it crumbled, and he opened himself to my magic.
The sensation was unlike anything I’d experienced before. My joy magic flowed into him, mixing with his vampire power in a swirl of gold and midnight blue. His shield strengthened, blazing with new light.
Together, we pushed back against the sigil. The cracks in its pattern widened, spreading like a spiderweb across the stone floor.
“Now,” Kieran said, his voice resonating with our combined power. “Hit the center with everything you have.”
I gathered all the joy magic I could muster—every happy memory, every moment of laughter, the feel ofKieran’s hand in mine—and slammed it into the heart of the sigil.
The stone floor split with a deafening crack. The sigil’s light flared one last time and went dark as the pattern shattered.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then a shockwave of energy exploded outward from the broken sigil. Kieran’s shield absorbed most of it, but the force still sent us both flying backward.
I crashed into Kieran’s chest as he twisted in midair to take the brunt of our landing. We hit the floor hard, rolling to a stop near the base of the stairs.
The entire crypt was shaking now, dust and small stones falling from the ceiling.
