Chapter 8 #2
When a hand touched my shoulder, I leapt up so quickly I banged my knee against the picnic table.
“I’m sorry,” Silas said. “Are you all right?”
“I just didn’t hear you coming, is all.”
“I’ve been standing here for at least half an hour.” Apology rang in Silas’s words. “I didn’t know how to interrupt. You seemed so focused.”
“Half an hour?” I felt like I’d snapped out of a trance and hadn’t yet been able to place my surroundings. My brain felt foggy, like I was digesting the fact that this was the real world, not a page out of the book I’d been immersed in for who knows how long.
“It’s late, Alessia.” Silas gestured toward where some of the dancing had died down. Many of the gnomes were now lounging around bonfires sipping mead and wine, staring up at the moon-drenched sky.
“It is a spell, Silas.” I pointed down at the book. “Look. The moonlight acted like a cypher.”
Silas’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped closer. “Really?”
I put my finger on the title which very clearly stated that it was a spell. “See?”
Silas was already shaking his head when I drew my finger away. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s gibberish to me.”
“What?” I squinted, but indeed, it was still quite legible to me. “It says A Spell for the Full Moon.”
“Does it tell you what the spell does?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “But I can read it to you, if you like, and you could help?”
“No.” Silas’s words came out a sharp bark. “If you incite the spell without knowing what it does, it could be catastrophic.”
I bit down on my lower lip. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I sort of read it to myself already?”
Silas let out a long, slow breath. “Did anything happen?”
“I felt a little tingly, but other than that”—I held up my hands and wiggled my fingers—“nothing.”
“Are there instructions that go along with the spell?” he asked. “Like, collect a frog’s brain or something? Maybe it didn’t activate without the proper procedures and supplies.”
“Maybe. But if there are additional parts to the spell, I don’t see them listed here.”
“It’s solely an incantation?”
“Yep.”
“What’s the gist of it?”
I scanned the spell again. “It talks about unlacing the seams of the midnight sky. It mentions spirits, shimmering, and singing. There’s a line about binding the courts through the night. And then there’s the bit about Fae Queens showing the way.”
Silas considered this for a long, long moment before he cursed under his breath. “Of course.”
“What?”
“Celebrating the full moon does stem from the days the Fae Queens ruled their courts, even though it’s turned into.
..” Silas gestured toward the group of drunken gnomes around the fires.
“It’s said that Fae Queens are the most connected to the spirit worlds.
There was always talk about sacrifices. I wonder if, maybe, instead of an actual sacrifice—”
“Like a human?”
“Like a human,” Silas repeated. “Maybe the sacrifice instead was that the Fae Queen gave out their magic on the night of a full moon.”
“Gave it out where?”
“To power boundaries between the spirit worlds and this world. Maybe the Fae Queens used wards to hold back the spirit world, just like they used wards to protect their courts.”
“If that’s true, and if I’m now the Fae Queen—”
“There is no if, Alessia. There never has been. But with you able to read ancient Fae texts, there is no way around it. Claim the title. It’s yours.”
“Fine. As the Fae Queen, my wards are protecting this island right now, yes?”
“Yes.”
“They’re shaky at best, as we’ve discussed. And also is evidenced by the mysterious beasts arriving on The Isle, slipping past the wards.”
“You’ll get there. We’ll hold them off until you can make necessary arrangements to the wards.”
“I appreciate that, but what about the spirit worlds? If I’m meant to be holding up the gates between the worlds, but I have no clue what I’m doing, couldn’t that be dangerous?
What if I’m supposed to be powering the wards that keep the spirit worlds at bay?
What will happen if I don’t complete it? ”
At length, Silas said, “I suppose that’s a possibility.”
“Maybe I should try the spell.”
“Alessia.” Silas’s voice suddenly sounded urgent. “Didn’t you say that you already spoke the incantation aloud?”
“Not on purpose. I whispered it, more like, when I was reading it to myself.”
“I think,” Silas said, “that might have been enough.”
I followed his gaze as it swept across the world around us—the grove where the gnomes lived and beyond. My breath caught in my throat as I saw what had captured Silas’s attention.
Around us, The Isle was now broken into different sections, separated by thick, glowing ropes of bluish white light knotted into the earth itself.
The tunnels of magic ran just beneath the surface of the ground—the grass, the mud, the water.
It looked like the very earth had veins, pulsing with magic.
“Holy smokes,” I muttered. “What’s all that?”
“Ley lines,” Silas said. “They haven’t been visible… ever. Since before the Courts fell.”
“Ley lines. The spell mentioned them, but I don’t know what it means.”
“Think of it as the places where magic is most powerful. Magic must spread throughout the island to keep it protected—the wards, et cetera. Magic courses through these big, powerful channels, then splits off into tinier fissures, until eventually it’s just getting absorbed into the earth.
It’s how the wards constantly pump power through the whole land. ”
“And you can’t normally see them?”
“See them, sense them, no. Never. If people were able to see or sense them, they might be able to tap into ley lines in a dangerous way that could hurt the island. It’s a safety measure that they’re invisible, untraceable, untouchable.”
“So why are they glowing now?”
Silas’s eyes looked like silver dollars as they landed on me.
“Right,” I said. “My fault.”
“I think you did exactly what you were worried about. You refreshed the protection between the spirit worlds and this one. I imagine that was a duty belonging to the Fae Queens centuries ago.”
“So it’s a good thing?”
“One can only hope,” Silas said. “Because it’s too late if it’s not.”
We left the full moon ceremony shortly after the glow of the ley lines began to fade. The vibrant display of power didn’t last long, minutes at most—a wondrous flash like a firework, and then a slow fizzle back to blackness.
I packed up my book and slunk away into the darkness with Silas. I didn’t have the energy even to say my goodbyes, but that didn’t matter all that much because half of the gnomes were snoring anyway.
“We’ll hunt at a different time,” Silas said. “You’re too exhausted.”
“We’ll hunt tonight. We’ve got a few hours until morning.”
“Alessia. Please. Pushing yourself to burnout is not going to help anyone.”
“Neither is lollygagging around. We planned to hunt; let’s hunt.”
“But—”
“Nothing has changed. If anything, maybe I’m even closer to accessing my magic after connecting with the spell tonight.”
I did feel drained and tired after the incident with the ley lines, but I was also stubborn by nature.
The one person who might be able to help me was…
not helping. I had no idea how long this would go on for, and I had every intention of plowing on ahead with or without Seer Goddard’s guidance. This was the only way I knew how.
“Silas.” I paused, then glanced over at him. “Can you see that?”
Silas turned his head to look forward. I could tell the second he saw what I meant.
The river that split the island in two was glowing a striking blue-white.
The rest of the ley lines had faded, but the water within the river’s edges was still tinged with power.
It looked like magic itself was flowing through the riverbed.
“I can see it. I guess that explains why your magic is stronger when you’re touching the water. The river down the center of the island must be the largest ley line of all. The others are offshoots. Smaller and smaller. This, here, is the heart of magic on The Isle.”
I stepped forward, pulled to it. I kicked off my shoes, peeled off my socks, rolled up my leggings to my knees. The second the cool, enchanted-looking water rushed over my bare toes, I felt it.
Magic. Power. Rightness.
It flowed into me, through me. The magic was a caress and a reassurance. It felt like clean sheets on a familiar bed. Like fresh flowers on the kitchen counter. Like the smell of nostalgic cookies baking. A comfortable, sweet embrace.
I tilted my head back. The moon washed over my face as the water washed over my feet. I felt my crown glow. I couldn’t say how long I stood there, but when I finally opened my eyes and glanced at Silas, I felt whole again.
Replenished and complete. Reenergized and charged.
“Let’s hunt,” I told him. “I’m ready.”
Silas did not look like he wanted to argue with me. Instead, he unslung his pack off his shoulders and withdrew a bow and arrow, all of it a deep, poison black that could blend into the night, just like him.
“Let’s hunt.”
We made our way into the edges of The Forest, letting the silence settle around us until it no longer felt like an itchy sweater but a comfortable blanket. We let our eyes grow accustomed to the dark.
“What are we hunting?” I asked Silas quietly. “Do you have something in mind?”
“First, let’s just get comfortable with our surroundings.”
“There’s nothing comfortable about hiding in The Forest after dark.”
“Then get comfortable with being uncomfortable.”
I closed my eyes, even though there wasn’t much difference; it was dark whether my eyes were open or shut. As I perched behind a boulder and a fallen log, Silas felt like a granite statue at my side. That was when I heard the first whispers of darkness.
“Are you talking about the voices?” I opened my eyes to catch Silas staring at me. “What are they saying? I can’t make them out.”