“I sent them to the watchtower, but it won’t be long before they report to the king.” He looks at Bryn now, too. “The king is desperate. He thinks Elodie has fled with the knowledge of the plant. We have little time.”
“Then we do it now,” Bryn commands, standing up. She grabs a pouch from her pocket, forming a circle of salt around the flint. Mara moves forward, grabbing Bryn’s shoulder.
“Bryn, you make sure you know what this is asking of you. Whatever it takes, you don’t let it be your life. You hear me? I will not lose you too,” she says, her voice wobbling, tears streaming down her face.
“Mother, it’s okay. I already told Elodie it’s not taking too much, I promise,” she says, taking a second pouch and sprinkling dirt onto the flint.
“My knowledge of runes might not be as extensive as your father’s. But I’m absolutely certain, Bryn, that undoing a rune this ancient will attempt to demand a significant price.” Bryn doesn’t respond, not even turning to face us.
“Bryn. What does it take?” Rowan asks more sternly. She ignores us, taking a small blade to her finger and dropping her blood onto the stones. She looks at me, giving me a soft, fragile smile. The silence turns heavy.
“Bryn,” Rowan seethes, stepping forward, pushing in front of her. “What is the price?” He asks again.
She finally looks at her mother and Rowan, but her eyes don’t focus on them. She pulls out a parchment from her pocket, kneeling beside the rune.
“It’s a trade, Rowan. I can handle it. There is no magic without consequence.” She turns back to the stones, her shoulders hunching as she chants a mumble of words in a language I don’t recognise. The air changes instantly.
The Black Heel shards start to hover, spinning in a slow clockwise rotation. Bryn’s words begin to sound like a struggle as she pushes her arms forward.
Mara warns lowly,
“Rowan.”
Orange fissures split from the centre of the rune, spreading in jagged lines through the soil.
“Rowan, she can’t take any more.” Mara shouts over the roaring sound of the wind. I move forward on instinct, unsure what to do, fear and panic rising in my stomach. Rowan fixes his gaze firmly on Bryn and leans forward, as if ready to pull her away.
"Bryn, stop, it’s too much,” Mara shouts at her daughter. In the same second, Bryn collapses to the floor, her head bowed down as she heaves heavy breaths, trying to push out her words. We all rush forward when a splintering white light erupts from the runes, sending us flying backward. For a second, the world is nothing but a high-pitched ringing and the smell of scorched grass.
“Bryn!” Rowan’s voice is a jagged roar. Desperation I have never heard from him before. He scrambles to his feet, his eyes wild and searching. Mara is crawling toward the centre, her fingers digging into the dirt. Bryn lies in the centre of the scorched circle, her breath shallow and ragged. Her head lolls to the side, her eyes closed shut.
No.
She can’t be.
Mara’s desperate voice rings out through the meadow, a guttural sound so heartbreaking I close my eyes. Rowan comes to my side, his arms wrapping around me as he pulls me to stand. I look toward Bryn’s lifeless body when a figure appears from behind the wall of smoke, rushing to Bryn’s side. He lifts her by the shoulders, dragging her out of the circle, just as a final, violent arc of orange lightning strikes the spot her heart had been seconds before. Rowan freezes at my side, his hand halfway to his blade when he drops it to his side.
“Kael?”
“I’m gone for less than a week, and you have my sister undoing one of the oldest binds in the kingdom?” he says, anger slipping from his tone. Mara reaches Bryn, her hands slowly trailing over her fragile form.
“Kael?” Rowan says again, as if he can’t quite believe who is standing in front of us. Admittedly, I’m not sure if I can believe my own eyes either.
“How the hell did you get back? Where the hell did you go? You left us,” Rowan shouts, raw emotion pouring from him. I rush to Bryn and Mara, my eyes locking on the way Bryn’s skin has turned a pale grey. Oh god.
“Is she?” Before Mara can answer, Bryn lets out a ragged cough, lurching onto her side and coughing up a dark black liquid.
“Oh my god, my baby,” Mara sobs, reaching for Bryn’s face, searching her eyes for signs of her daughter.
“I’m okay,” she says, her voice stripped of everything, so croaky that I can barely make out what she says.
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper, releasing a heavy breath and letting my head hang back in pure relief.
“Is she okay?” Kael asks, rushing to Mara’s side. Mara blinks rapidly, her eyes flicking between Kael and Bryn.
“Kael? Is that really you?”
“It’s me. I’m back, you’re okay. Everything’s okay,” he says, embracing Mara in a firm hug.
