Sparks rain over the mushrooms, and a small tendril of green smoke curls in the air. The wise woman looks up at me and smiles. A strange anxiousness blossoms in my belly.
“Is it time?” I ask.
Liana nods, then faces the humans.
“Human women,” her eyes land on Kade, the old elven spy that came back with Teo, “and man. Are you ready to hunt for your crystal?”
“Yes!” they call out.
It is then that the singers, Velen and Ulla, step forward, carefully cradling bubbling rods of iridescent black goethite. Their clothes look like something straight out of Liana’s closet.
They sing a song that feels like the first dawn of a new life—it is deep, haunting, and stirs my soul with inspiration. The music that pours out of them is not unlike the beauty of a stream flowing along or the crash of waves against the beach. They use deep breaths and the backs of their throats to make low guttural sounds, beats, and clicks. It sounds as if they were unleashing the spirits of a million Enduares, clawing their way through rock, silt, and ash just to join us in this moment.
They walk through the women who watch with unfettered awe and form a line.
Liana swings her golden thurible back and forth, creating decorative patterns with the cloyingly sweet smoke that leaks through the holes.
Only then, with the wise woman at the lead, do we start our walk to the caverns deeper in the mountain.
I flank the group, with Arlet and Melisa walking just a few paces ahead. Svanna, Iryth, and many other Enduar women come next.
It’s notable that none of the unmated men are in sight. I’m not surprised. A part of me is pleased when the elves come to join our procession. They have offered to help with combat training tomorrow, and I must admit that I’m eager to join them.
As we walk out from behind the palace, Teo joins us, and then Vann.
I look at my mate as he draws closer to my side. His braid isneater today, but there is so much to appreciate about his physical appearance. For one, he is devastating in dark colors. From the black earrings to the black circlet upon his head, he’s something entirely too beautiful to belong to this world.
He catches me staring up at him and shows me a mental image of me tangled up in his sheets. It causes me to stumble.
His warm hand wraps protectively around my waist, and the butterflies flutter frantically in my stomach.
He leans down the two foot difference between our heights and kisses me. “Wishing you agood morning and bringing you this.”
My eyes drop to the two quartz towers he holds in his free hand. He gives me one of the columns, and it starts to glow in my hand. My eyes are glued to the glowing stone as we begin to move through the city.
More join in behind us. Even the youngest children trail along to the ethereal chants that light up the entire cave. As we pass the Adorflame, it seems to pulse to the beat of the words.
When Thorne finds his way to my other side, I look up at his well-styled white-blond hair.
“Care to become an honorary Enduar, Thorne?” I ask playfully.
He smiles with ease. He’s watched every movement within Enduvida with careful precision and while I don’t trust him completely, I do like him.
His smile curves up partially. “It is a… primitive display. But I suppose it’s charming. Especially, I imagine, for humans whose rituals were stolen from them.”
I don’t know how to respond, but sadness chokes my throat.
I think of what my mother said to me about a goddess and look back around the vast cave. It’s a thing of dreams. A mystical land that should only belong to the gods, not mere mortals.
When we continue past the forges and toward one of the gates that leads deeper into the mountain, the stone and metal benders pause their work and track our movements with careful precision. Some of them have gathered near the tall, shining metal bars, uninvited but eager to join along. They hand out hammers and hold their fists to the unseen sky and shout once for each woman.
We descend, and the air changes. The temperature grows colder, and a pulse of magic penetrates under my skin. As we move, I become more sensation than person.
“What can I expect when we get to wherever it is we’re going, Your Highnesses?” Thorne asks, striking up a quiet conversation despite it really just not being the time.
My eyes continue to drink in every detail, trying to memorize and experience what I never got. “I was given a Fuegorra when I was half-dead. I never performed a ritual.”
He appears confused. “Aren’t there some vague instructions about each crystal choosing its owner? Who chose yours?”
