“Lucky or not, you saved her—and everyone else.”
“It was a group effort. If you and the others hadn’t been waiting outside, tonight would have had a very different outcome.”
“You can thank our friends for that,” Reeve said. “Jonas and Wynter found some obscure reference to where an ancient Aurora sacrifice had taken place”—he gestured to the cathedral behind them—“and Soren, Sage, and Ardin figured out that there were wards silencing what was happening inside. Only, by the time we all arrived, those wards had been strengthened to prevent anyone from entering.” His eyes locked with hers. “I heard your voice in my head when they came down, like you were whispering right into my ear. How did you do that?”
Viri shuffled her feet, reluctant to admit that her magic seemed to beattractedto him, of all things. He would never let her live that down. “You’re the mage. You tell me.”
He studied her as if sensing she wasn’t being entirely truthful, but thankfully, he let it go. “However it happened, you were incredible tonight.”
The sudden tenderness in his expression made her breath catch. “You weren’t half bad yourself.”
“Not half bad?” His mouth curled upward. “That’s high praise, coming from you. Next you’ll be saying—”
Whatever he thought she’d be saying, she never found out,because something over her shoulder caught his attention, and his eyes widened in alarm—and fear.
“No—wait—” he cried, throwing out an arm.
But it was too late, because a surge of ellixen slammed into Viri, and then—
Darkness.
The Journal ofCelestial Mage Kadmus Castro
TEPHRYN ALEMEDES
Thirty-Third Sun, Fourteenth Cycle, Twelfth Age
As I write this, the mages are preparing to leave Elverdine Isle. The native dragons have already fled to the mainland, along with the magical creatures who called this place home. There are simply too many reapers now, and the risk they pose to all living beings is too high.
But as dire as things are, there’s a light in the darkness: the shallows who have resisted temptation, led by my dear friend Anissa Solace, daughter of Magistratus Garrin. She’s devastated that her father and so many others have followed Kadmus down such a dark path, but even in her anguish, Anissa continues to fight, protecting her people from the reapers we’ve failed to capture.
I’ve told her she needs to leave Elverdine with the mages, that there’s nothing but death for her here. She won’t go, nor will any of the other shallows. They’ve all lost loved ones to these monsters—friends, family—and they refuse to lose their homes, too.
As much as I understand, I wish they would listen to reason.
Because what we plan to do—whatIplan to do—
They know exactly what will happen if they remain here.
They’re staying anyway.
“It’s our island,” Anissa told me, her lavender eyes dulled by grief and exhaustion, but there remained a spark of life in them, of determination. “They can’t have it.”
“But you’ll—” I tried, for the thousandth time.
“These reapers are our people, Tephie.” She placed her hand on my shoulder, comforting me, when it should have been the other way around. “They’re our responsibility. We’ll hunt them until there are none left.”
“That could take—”
“Even if it takes generations,” she interrupted firmly. “We won’t give up. We won’t give in.” Her lips lifted into a sad smile. “You know me better than that.”
I did, and for that reason, I helped her as much as I could, gifting her a hollowed stylus infused with everlasting, magical ink. On their own, the shallows can’t recognize reapers, not until it’s too late. I’m unsure why that is, why only mages can see the black veins crawling along their skin. But now Anissa and those she believes capable can use the stylus to brand themselves with the ink, the power of which will amplify their senses, allowing them to see the reaper marks and know when the monsters are near.
I’m confident she’ll use my gift wisely. She’s already started training a group of what she calls “hunters,” and while none have the abilities of a full mage, I’ve witnessed them battling reapers with my own eyes, and they’re not unskilled. They’ll only improve with time, something I tell myself whenever my concern for them threatens to overwhelm me.
Along with the stylus, other magical artifacts are being left behind by my fellow mages: weapons and talismans and all sorts of helpful items. We’ve also ensured the permanence of any ellixen-fueled creations, like the wayportals, elevators, wards, and more. To avoid the risk of reapers siphoning from these—or worse, from the obelisks that, thank the Elders, continue to suppress the mighty, vengeful power of the Hallow Stream—the enchanter mages have laid runes all around Elverdine to safeguard inorganic objects. There’sno magic that can protect living beings in the same way—not without killing them—but at least these runes will limit what the reapers can siphonfrom.
Anissa and the other residents are grateful for everything we’re leaving them, but I feel it’s the least we can do, not just because it was one of us who doomed them all, but also for another reason:
