Chapter 42 #2

The fact that he would feel something so amusingly human made her anger soften. She stepped closer, taking his hand. His fingers curled around hers instinctively. Instead of cold shadow, warmth traveled from his skin into her palm, a gentle warmth she wasn’t used to.

I did love him, she admitted. Once.

Alora didn’t know what was in her heart now. But whatever he saw in her eyes made the tension in his shoulders ease enough for the air to settle.

She wove their fingers together. “Come. We have a long journey ahead.”

Rune’s gaze lowered to the ruby ring on her finger. The smallest breath escaped him, almost a sigh.

Alora faced Caelum. “Please go home. Find Lord Zuma if you can, and help him rescue Theia, your betrothed,” she stressed, in case he needed reminding. “When the time comes, I will need your support to retake Argyle.”

Caelum’s brows drew together. His gaze flicked to her satchel, then back to her face. After a heartbeat, he bowed his head.

“Yes, my lady.” He hesitated then asked, “I may have a better chance at finding Lord Zuma if I can catch up to him quickly. Perhaps you could portal me?”

Alora paused, recalling the tree portal she had somehow created in Karag D?r with a song. It had not taken them far, but far enough. A portal would be helpful in cutting down their journey to the ruins as well.

She truly didn’t know what she was doing or how she had made one. It had been instinct really. The portal could have been a fluke. She didn’t know if she could make another, or if the type of tree mattered.

Alora glanced at the two large oak trees with sprawling branches that flanked her cottage. They were nearly five centuries old, stronger than the sapling in a cavern that may not need to be coaxed with a song.

Alora approached the ancient oak, its bark ridged with age, its crown stretching wide enough to swallow the sky. She laid her palm to its trunk, hesitating for a single breath.

The magic stirred instantly.

Warm. Living.

As if the tree itself recognized her touch.

The air shone as something surged through her being. It pulled her awareness into the earth, through layers of damp soil and twisting roots, into veins of power she did not have a name for.

The ground drummed beneath her like a distant heartbeat.

Ancient. Endless.

Older than realms. Even the gods.

Shadows curled up her wrist in answer. Light flickered under her skin. The bark beneath her palm warmed then glowed.

The oak shuddered.

Rune pulled her back as the branches twisted, curling inward like arms folding around a secret. The wind churned and leaves rained down. The trunk groaned, splitting open with a low, resonant hum. Ancient, stark white glyphs burned into the bark as it reformed itself into a perfect circle.

Inside the ring, the air rippled once.

Then flared into a whirl of bright white light.

Caelum exhaled, breathless. “Absolutely extraordinary…”

He glanced at her over his shoulder with an impressed smirk, the light making his brown eyes shine like gold. Then he stepped through the portal, and his form was swallowed in a blink.

A hush fell over the forest.

The portal dimmed, the light fading with a soft gust. The circle of carved glyphs remained on the transformed bark, glowing faintly like an afterimage of power.

Lady Zinnia and the Midlands soldiers stood frozen, their armor catching glints of the portal’s fading light. All gaped at what became of the tree.

Rune stared at her instead, wary and knowing. He had seen her do this before in the mountain but witnessing her perform it again with intent control unsettled something deep in the bond.

Zinnia whispered, sounding almost afraid. “What magic you must bear, child. You have shaped an Elder Tree into a doorway by channeling into the veins of magic that run beneath the earth.”

Alora blinked, breath still unsteady. The way her aunt, a demigoddess, looked at her as if such a thing was impossible.

“Had this not been done before?” she frowned. “Surely, our magic comes from the earth.”

“Yes, but even that has limits.” Zinnia wrapped her arms around herself. “We manipulate root and vine. The Queen of the Spring court could command the earth’s deep magic, but portals... That power belongs to—”

“—gods,” Rune finished, slowly approaching the Elder Tree, his voice low and unreadable.

“Only the divine can portal so effortlessly. But you made a natural door. A pathway shaped from living magic. There is no spell for this in existence…” He ran his fingertips along one of the glowing glyphs, expression caught between admiration and unease. “Until now.”

She made a spell? And in a language, she didn’t understand.

“This is not something learned,” Zinnia said, her eyes widening. Her aunt had seen Alora’s schooling, and she had intently avoided anything regarding magic.

Rune’s gaze lifted to hers. “That is something inherited.”

He didn’t say, but they both thought the same thing. It came from whatever, or whoever, had made her.

Alora shivered.

Zinnia stepped forward, staring at the remnants of the portal with open awe. “Who knows where the portal could take you or how far. I suspect its reach will mirror the strength of the traveler. But those with great magic could call it forth now that a spell has been created.”

Alora swallowed and stepped forward again.

The Elder Tree responded instantly, the glyphs blazing back to life, the center filling with swirling white light like a star being born.

A thrill rippled through her.

A little fear.

A little wonder.

A growing sense that the world had shifted beneath her feet.

Rune stood beside her, branches casting shadows over him. His expression was conflicted but steady. Prepared to face whatever awaited them.

Nexus leaped up onto her shoulders with a short purr. Those golden eyes looked at her with encouragement and her worries settled.

Alora lifted her hand to Rune, palm open. “Shall we?”

Rune smirked softly and took her hand. “Whenever you are ready, shadow darling.”

Then they stepped through the portal together.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.