“Sorry, I’m a bit on edge, and my bedroom doesn’t even feel safe these days. Rose handed me another letter.”
Her eyes widen. “What does it say? Have you opened it?”
“No, I crashed into you before I had the chance,” I respond.
“Sorry about that. I think I found something about the crystal, so I was in a panic about finding you.”
I nudge her to continue.
“It’s old, exactly like we suspected,” she says, pacing. “And it can be used in rituals to resurrect the dead, but there are rules. You must complete several rituals in a specific order, in a certain setting. It’s detailed, Briar. And time sensitive.” She stops pacing and looks me in the eye. “It’s bad news. I’m not sure how your father got his hands on this, but according to the texts, it was lost over a hundred years ago and was supposedly never found.”
My mind races. “You don’t think he would be trying to resurrect my mother, do you?”
Maines slumps against the stone wall, her face grim. “Briar, it says that if someone is brought back, they don’t return the same.They come back... worse. Like creatures from another realm, forced to walk this one again. It’s unnatural.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine. The idea of bringing someone back from the dead hasn’t been practiced for centuries. Many healers use illusions to communicate with the deceased for closure, but never in physical form. The consequences are too great. It’s dark magic, forbidden long ago. My darkness stirs uneasily in my chest at the mention of this black magic.
“What conditions are needed to make the rituals work?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“That’s the problem.” Maines sighs. “I couldn’t find exact instructions. It’s like that information was wiped, just in case anyone came looking. I could get into serious trouble for studying this.”
“Well, my father must know how to make the crystal work. We need to figure it out.” A chill runs through me. “We also need to find out who he’s planning to resurrect—and why.”
“I’m going back to the House to keep digging. I’ll ask around to see if any of the healers know anything about this dark magic.”
I nod, turning toward the stairwell. “Fine, but don’t disclose anything unnecessary. We don’t need anyone getting suspicious.”
She smiles and shifts into a dark mist, leaving me standing on the roof alone.
The letter in my hand feels heavy, as though it’s full of secrets I’m not ready to uncover. I glance down and open the letter.
My shadow,
Creatures lurk where you are heading. Dark and dangerous creatures hide in the woods. Stay out of sight and survive. That is what you must do in this third trial, Briar. Let your darkness be a beacon in the night. Find the ones you love and stay together.
All my love.
My mother knew about my father’s plans for years, these very trials. But why didn’t she warn me? Did she think I couldn’t handle the truth? I turn to head down the stairs, fists clenched tightly. I look out over the Kingdom of Daramveer. The sun dips behind the clouds, casting pink hues across the sky, the last barrier before it rests for the night.
A sigh escapes my lips. I may not return to this spot. I may not survive the trials. But one thing is certain: I am Briar Blackbyrne. I will fight. I will use the darkness inside me to try to win.
I dig my nails into the railing and look toward the forest. I’m not sure what’s coming, but I know where it’s starting.
Chapter 23
Black flames burn inside my body—I grit my teeth, the pain flowing through me as shadows swirl around my palms. Figures stand before me as always, except this time, I recognize them—though they’re typically faceless—to be friends. Whoever is controlling my body doesn’t allow me to react as my eyes darken in their direction. No loving feelings toward the figures, only rage. A familiar voice screams my name, but only my heart knows that. My mind forces me to continue what needs to be done.
I step over my brother’s fallen body—blood pooling around his shoulder where my axe once struck. My soul screams, but my body continues forward. Thatcher stands beside me, a devilish grin forming on his cracked lips. The shadows sting my palms as I gaze down, realizing I’m standing in the middle of a ritual site. Thatcher begins to pray to the Dark Shadow Wiitch, Kalix. Unfamiliar Rigils swirl up my arms. My head tips back as the darkness flows from the ash-covered ground into my bruised body. Finally, a scream successfully leaves my lips as I’m thrown backward, landing on my back. A hand cracks through the earth, grabbing my ankle and dragging me through dirt and blood.
This dream is different. It’s changed. Branches snap beneath my body, and I snap back into my own mind. I’m not in my dreams, no. Someone just shifted me, and I’m physically being dragged. I’m awake. This isn’t a dream. I attempt to thrash against the grip holding me, but I can’t move. My body is limp along with my vocal cords.
Scream, Briar!
My world goes black.
Blinking slowly, my vision becomes clearer. Darkness crowds in—the towering trees looming over me like deadly hands reaching down. I gasp, sitting up as the forest feels suffocating. The smell of mud, grass, and Dyisen—an herbal medicine used by healers to drown magic—fills my nose. I was drugged and dragged.
The feeling I was experiencing wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. Someone brought me out here. Fear floods my body as I realize the third trial has begun, and I’m alone.
