I sucked in a breath. Wisps of shadow, like a narrow cloud of smoke snaked through the trees. But in a blink, it was gone. Most likely a trick of my eyes.
Then, the darkness inside me stirred, urging me to reach out, to take hold. But take hold ofwhat, exactly?
Tug.
The line went taut. Something halted on the other end.
What the hell? That shouldn’t be poss?—
“Carwynn!” Breena's voice snapped my thoughts in half. “Get your butt over here!”
I blinked, shaking out of the strange, unexplainable trance. My hands shook, brushing off the creepy sensation as I stepped forward through the trees.
The forest opened to a vast, lush meadow. A crystal-clear spring snaked through the grass, its waters babbling over jade-colored stones. One part of the stream swirled into a deep, off-shoot pool, carved from bedrock with flakes of gold. Beside it, stones were meticulously arranged into a circular fire pit, with moss-covered boulders acting as benches.
On the distant hilltop, Luckland’s gilded Candela towered high, spearing the last light of day across the land. Below it, the Scurboga Gate gleamed faintly, a flickering rainbow arch casting a soft glow like a beacon in the night.
“Breena, this is—” My words fell short, stolen by the magic of the landscape ahead of me.
“I know,” Breena said, grinning. “It’s my favorite view in Luckland. We used to come out here to practice magic and unwind, but it’s been a while.” Her eyes slid toward Aine. “Figured it was time to revive it.”
Aine quietly nodded, a soft grin sweeping her lips.
“I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve missed this place,” Aine whispered.
Breena lifted her hands, fingers dancing through the air in delicate, fluidmotions while she whispered an incantation that sounded more like a hymn than a spell. Wind swirled around the fire pit, lifting kindling and leaves into a gentle cyclone flecked with gold and twinkling starlight. The whirl swelled, then burst, igniting the pit in a sudden blaze of flames.
Instant inferno? Now that was one hell of a party trick.
“Well done!” I beamed at her.
It wasn’t often I saw Breena practice her Craft, only bits and pieces when she was coaxing the garden to grow or flinging bowls around the kitchen during a sweet tooth baking frenzy.
“Show off,” Aine muttered, clearly unimpressed, but the crease in her eyes said otherwise. She dropped the rucksack onto the bench with a thud.
“Careful!” Breena scolded, shooting daggers with her eyes. “You’ll smash my muffins!”
Aine gave a dark chuckle, digging into the bag and setting out a tempting display of baked goods. “Say, when was the last timeyourmuffin got smashed?”
“Aine,” Breena said in warning.
I tried to stifle my laugh, but a snort slipped out. Breena’s glare snapped to me, a loaded threat. I raised an eyebrow, half tempted to stoke the fire. Just for entertainment purposes.
Above us, the sky had deepened from orange sorbet to rich indigo. I peered toward the horizon, then stilled.
A flicker. The distant Candela pulsed, and below it, the Scurboga Gate surged with a flash of color that winked in and out like a signal.
Maybe it was a trick of the light? Or my eyesight failing me again.
“Hey,” I said warily, pointing. “Is that normal?”
Aine’s head whipped around. Breena gasped, soft butsharp. They exchanged a dark look, then fixed their gaze back to the gate.
The arch’s glow palpitated, spewing ribbons of color into the air above. Then, without warning, it winked out for the span of a breath, right before flaring to life again. The pattern repeated—flash, blackout, flare—before finally settling into its steady illumination once more.
“No.” Aine’s eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at the gate as if it were a God descending.
17
