“Okay.” Celina took a deep breath. She could do this.Hadto do this. She nodded and met her sister’s serious gaze. “Let’s do this.”
The familial bond that connected them together was built on emotion and experience, not blood or legality. They called her type of magicspirit magicfor a reason.
This time, she reached deep inside herself when she pictured her brother, trying tofeelhim emotionally instead of just see him. Buoyant laughter as he tossed a tiny Cat in the air. Intense focus as he spun through a martial routine in the training hall. Deep voice rumbling softly as he spoke to his favorite horse. Love and pride shining in his green eyes as he congratulated Celina on receiving her Healer title from the guild.
The light flickered, but this time, she waited. Instead of diving for it right away in desperation, she just watched it patiently, letting it grow, as she stayed focused on their connection. To her surprise, each flicker was slightly brighter, stronger, until the light stabilized, and a fine golden thread appeared. So fine she could barely see it—a pinprick of light in the darkness.
Gently, she touched it, sending a pulse of magic down the strand. A flair of white glimmered briefly before going out, lasting barely as long as a heartbeat.
But it was enough. Enough for her to sense that it was an actual lifeforce on the other end of the thread.Connor’slifeforce.
“He’s alive. Cat! He’s alive!” She opened her eyes in time to see Cat’s stunned expression shift to one of elation.
Chapter 5
Staringatherbirthright,Celina’s fingers trembled as she ran them over the steel dagger her mother had carried constantly. A royal amethyst stone studded the hilt, the dark purple glinting ominously from its leather binding.
A similar dagger had been given to the matriarch of each of the ancient families, passed down through the generations. Only this one held the signature amethyst gemstone of the crown, though, as befitting the royal matriarch. Though Celina had accepted the title when she’d come of age, and the responsibilities long before, she’d never been able to bring herself to carry her mother’s dagger. The weight of it was too much for her to bear.
Celina placed a hand on the heirloom trunk, images of the sturdy case at the foot of her mother’s bed filling her mind. The roughhewn edges had stood in valiant confidence at the center of the room, defying the soft colors and textures adorning the matriarch’s suite.
Her mother’s personal body armor lay on top, guarding the weapons beneath. The long sword that had once been strapped to the lid was gone, presented to her brother, Connor, at his acceptance into the elite ranks of the Lightning Forces many years ago.
The storm that had hounded her since Connor had gone missing grew in force, pelting her with hail. Ice tightened around her heart, choking the emotion in her chest. Part of her had been waiting for this to happen since the day he had left for his first mission.
While she’d fought to stay her original path and become a healer, he’d done the opposite, changing course to follow their mother’s footsteps through the warrior ranks after her death. He’d trained with a fervor that belied his gentle, joyful personality and had risen quickly into the Lightning Forces, intentionally vying to work undercover in the realm where their mother had been killed.
It was a choice Celina couldn’t fathom and had protested vehemently, but he’d been determined. She hadn’t stopped Connor, and now Cat was following in dangerous footsteps, albeit without a sword. She’d been discouraging Cat’s political yearnings for years, ever since Cat had done the math and realized the timeline would be in her favor when their great-aunt retired.
Why were both of her siblings intent on worrying her to death with their career choices? Connor following in their mother’s military footsteps and Cat’s desire to be a leader in government. A faint light flickered inside her, yearning to follow her siblings into such meaningful work.
Those musings would have to wait for another time. Once they were all home together and safe.
She held the dagger tightly, blocking memories of her mother’s fierce movements with the blade in the pine-filled clearing, thunder echoing around them as she defended an innocent refugee child with her life.
She hadn’t been able to save her mother that day. But she would do everything she could to save Connor. She pictured her brother’s laughing eyes and broad grin the last time she’d seen him. She refused to add his things to this room of memories.
It was time to bring him home.
Peeringthroughthewindowof his room, Rodric watched the busy Calderran town wake with life. Natural sunlight sparkled off the unlit glass orbs that had brightened the dance floor the night before as they swung from nearly invisible wire. Early risers cut across the courtyard, shortening their paths as they tightened their cloaks against the chill of the wind.
Warriors, growers, and staff of all kinds from the nearby keep bustled about, distinguishable by the hint of dark purple insignia on their clothing. At a glance, it was no different than Eldridge’s bustling towns. Until one noticed the unique Magic Assessment business across the street. The clear day provided an easy view into the glass-fronted office, where a young girl was being tested for magic, her father standing nervously by her side.
Sweat broke out on Rodric’s neck as he pulled away from the scene. Witnessing magic was more than he could take, especially now that Brenna was in such a dangerous position. Channeling all the turbulent energy into a tight fist, he stared hard at the white scar across his hand and pushed the thoughts back behind the locked gates in his mind. He just needed to find her, that’s all. One problem at a time.
Grabbing his coat, he exited his room and headed down the stairs. Though he was not looking forward to announcing his presence at the foreign keep, it was his only lead to find Brenna. Nodding to the innkeeper, he passed through the tavern to the door. Breakfast would have to wait. He didn’t want to chance missing his quarry at the keep.
Following the directions he’d received from the barkeeper the night before, he wound his way through town to the grand estate standing protectively at the base of the mountains. Curious glances made his shoulder blades itch, but no one stopped him from walking up to the central building. Anticipation made him tense as he observed the home of the family who might help him rescue Brenna.
A whisper of movement made him snap his attention to the side, where a familiar figure hurried out of a side passage. The elegant dress from the night before was gone, but the air of authority still cloaked her. She was dressed for riding, her hair pulled back in a tight braid.
He caught her hand with ease.
“Good morning, Celina.” His fingers tightened from polite support to familiarity as her warm vanilla and citrus scent reached him.
Her eyes lit in delight, though her frame was tight with tension that hadn’t been there the night before, and she gripped a sheathed dagger in her other hand. “I was just coming to find you. What are you doing here?”
“I was told to speak with someone from the Blackwood family—that’s you, isn’t it? That sneaky barkeep,” he said, realizing that he’d been set up in more ways than one.
