Chapter 13 #2
I suck in a breath through my teeth, fighting the urge to jerk away from Sebastian's hold.
The burning sensation spreads from the point of contact, racing along invisible pathways beneath my skin.
Cold follows immediately after, so intense it feels like someone pressed an ice cube directly against my brain stem.
Wylder crouches in front of me, presses his hands over mine, and releases healing energy. "You've got this, Hallowind.”
"Almost done," Sebastian murmurs.
The temperature evens out. The pain dulls to a persistent throb, then fades entirely. I release my breath in a slow exhale and touch the spot behind my ear. The device sits flush against my skin, barely noticeable except for the faint warmth radiating from it.
"How does it feel?" Mom's voice drifts from the hallway that leads to her workroom. She's more opaque today, more present, and relief washes through me.
I roll my shoulders, testing. "I don't feel it or notice anything different."
"You're not supposed to." Sebastian steps back, satisfaction clear in his expression. "It's not supposed to activate unless access to your thoughts or memories is triggered."
Does that mean he won't be able to call me to him?
I want to ask Sebastian, but not in front of all my friends. They don't need to be reminded about my sleepwalking horror show last night and know how badly it cracked my foundation.
Still, between the vomit potion and the inhibitor, I'm better protected than I was. "Thank you."
The words feel inadequate for what they've given me, but Sebastian's small smile says he understands.
Asher squeezes my shoulder from behind me as Wylder stands and offers me a hand. "All right, Hallowind. Enough lazing about. Let's get to work."
I follow the others to the kitchen table, where the old oak surface has been entirely eclipsed by a detailed map.
But this isn't like any map I've ever seen.
My mouth drops open as I take it all in. "Wow, this is next-level cool."
The base layer shows familiar continental outlines—North America, Europe, the Atlantic between them—rendered in deep ink on aged parchment.
But overlaid across the geography runs an intricate web of luminous lines, pulsing faintly gold and silver, tracing paths that have nothing to do with highways or state borders.
"Are these ley lines?"
Mica nods. "Yeah. Cool, huh?"
More than cool, actually. Hundreds of ley lines crisscross the physical landscape in organic pathways, like the root system of some impossibly vast tree.
"And what are these different colors?"
Mica beams. "Those are supernatural territories… or at least the origin territories of the major races."
I study the shimmering territories as they bloom in watercolor swatches—amber for shifter domains, deep violet for witch covens, pale green for fae holdings.
"Each major nexus of power bears a symbol," Mica explains.
"There's a tiny forge hammer here, a crescent moon there, spiraling glyphs marking places where the veil between worlds runs thin.
Mountain ranges glow where raw elemental magic pools.
Coastal stretches shimmer where water magic concentrates.
Some regions pulse brighter than others, alive with energy, while dark patches sit like bruises—dead zones where magic has been drained or corrupted. "
"Where did you get this?" I breathe.
Mica runs a loving caress over the edge of a curling corner. "My grandmother was a cartographer for the Order of the Arcane. This is her life's work, and my older brother has kept it current."
"It's incredible, Mica," Sebastian says.
Mica's steel-gray gaze scans the map with obvious reverence before she looks up at us. "If the Cinderheart Crucible is somewhere on this map, I have a scrying spell that should help us find it."
She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a pendulum—a teardrop of dark metal suspended from a fine chain. The metal has a strange quality, shifting between gunmetal gray and deep blue depending on the angle, and I can feel the hum of enchantment radiating off it from three feet away.
Mica positions herself at the head of the table and holds out her pendulum. "This spell is anchored to my metal affinity, but Sebastian and I layered in a strong divination component, as well. The Crucible is forged metal at its core. I'm hoping this will work to call its location."
"Let’s give it our best.” Sebastian nods before panning his gaze to the opposite side of the table. “Reid and Asher, if you don't mind, can you step back so we can focus the goddess’ power?"
The two non-witches step over to the kitchen island and hop up on the counter to sit side-by-side.
"Best seats in the house." Asher winks and gives us a smile. "Good luck."
The rest of us—me, Wylder, Orion, Clara, Izzy, Mica, and Sebastian—gather around the table.
"Everyone ready?" Mica checks that we're good to go and then closes her eyes and draws a long breath. "Goddess Mother, I offer thanks for the gifts you have given. For the magic in my blood and the iron in my bones. I ask for your guidance in this working. Light the path we cannot see."
The pendulum stills in her grip. Then she extends her arm over the center of the map and lets it hang.
Mica's magic unfurls like smoke from a forge. Her signature hits me—hot metal, ozone, and the sharp clean bite of a struck anvil.
The pendulum begins a slow rotation, and the ley lines on the map respond, brightening where the pendulum passes over them.
Her brow furrows with focus, her lips moving in a silent incantation, and the chain between her fingers goes taut as though something beneath the parchment pulls at it.
She works methodically, slowly sweeping the pendulum across continent after continent, seeking an answer to our call. Her control is precise. Each movement deliberate.
I'm damn impressed. Mica knows what she's doing, and her intention is solid. She handles her pendulum with a kind of muscle memory that comes from years of practice.
Minutes pass. The pendulum swings.
The ley lines pulse and fade and pulse again as she passes over them.
But nothing catches.
Sebastian steps forward. "Everyone join hands and add your intention. Give her more to work with."
Wylder takes my left hand. Orion takes my right. Clara reaches for Wylder, Izzy links with Clara, and Sebastian closes the circle on Orion's other side.
The moment the circle completes, I'm washed with the power of our group.
Their magic floods through me—Wylder's green and growing warmth, Orion's ice-and-shadow edge, Clara's cool rush like a river current, Izzy's soft golden pulse that smells like cedar and animal musk, Sebastian's sharp silver thread of spirit.
All of it braids together, flowing through our joined hands into Mica's working.
This is us.
My chest aches. Not from pain but from the sheer weight of what these people have chosen to take on. Every single one of them walked into this house, into this fight, because they decided it mattered. Because I mattered.
This circle of misfits and outcasts who barely knew each other weeks ago, now stand shoulder to shoulder around a map, hunting for a mythical forge to save a town that doesn't even know it needs saving.
Mica's pendulum seeks its target. The ley lines on the map respond. For one breathless moment, I think it's going to work—
But no matter what we do, nothing catches.
There's no pull. No target.
After another long moment, Mica lowers her arm and rolls her neck. "Well. That was anticlimactic."
Each of us thanks the Goddess Mother for her divine love, and then we release our clasped hands, and the circle drops.
Wylder sighs. "It wasn't a failure. I felt the intention of the spell. It was definitely reaching."
"It was," I agree.
Mica coils the pendulum chain around her fingers. "But not finding it kinda strengthens the theory that the Crucible exists in a shifting pocket dimension. If it phases in and out of the physical world, it could explain why people have had such a hard time finding it."
Orion leans over the map, looking pensive. "But the divination component is still active, right?"
Mica nods. "The spell broadcasts our intention, and the divination component will keep it searching."
"Is its response tied to proximity?"
Mica considers that for a moment and then nods. "Sure, the closer we are to it when it surfaces, the stronger the divination spell would be. Why? How does that help us?"
Sebastian straightens and smiles. "It means that if we create a global circuit and portal to different regions, when the forge does surface, the spell should respond when we get close enough for the resonance to catch."
"That sounds like a needle in a haystack plan," Asher says.
"Actually, it’s more like a moving needle in a series of haystacks," Orion corrects.
"But he's right," Mica says. "If it surfaces and we aren't actively working to locate it, we'll miss our chance."
Sebastian crosses his arms and exhales. "All right. Mica and I will use this map to come up with a portal circuit through the major nexus points around the world, and we'll work the scrying spell until we get a hit."
Mica eyes him. "You’re volunteering to be my magical Uber?"
He nods. "Until we've got a better plan, yes."
I swallow. “Don’t you need to be here to shore up the wards containing Tharuzel?”
The harsh reality of the situation takes over Sebastian’s expression.
“The primary objective is to break his tether on the civilians and slow him down, sure. But at the current rate Tharuzel is gaining power, the wards won’t last another week.
It’s time to pivot and work on how to combat him once he breaks free. ”
My heart drops. I knew it would be soon, but if we’ve got less than a week, we’re going to need to pull a magical miracle out of our asses.
And quickly.