39. Mare #2
Brighid took my arm. "Let's go. Before our Paragon changes his mind."
We took a step forward, deeper into the storm. Brighid's eyes flared, and her fingertips danced with flame. She drew a circle before us with her arms, and brilliant orange light engulfed us.
Fire swirled in a sphere around us, batting away the wind like two blades clashing against one another.
I glanced back. Reese shifted forward, as though intent on following.
"One day," Brighid called back. "You'll have to set her free. Start practicing."
Jaw tensed, Reese strangled his rapier's hilt. He remained still, watching me with eyes pooled to the brim with concern. How had I managed to charm him? Me, who was not deserving of that worry.
He should be glad, for this storm to strike me down.
Turning away, I held Cierthine before me and nodded for Brighid to move.
We tread forward, under our precarious canopy, toward my home. My destiny.
Even beneath Brighid's flaming shield, the storm was unbearable. My eyes stung from the endless lash of wind, my ears rang from the endless beating of thunder.
"Does Cierthine heed you?" Brighid shouted.
I squeezed the blade's hilt and felt it respond. Storms churned within its black steel, at my beck and call.
"Yes," I shouted back, hair whipping into my mouth.
"Good. If I'm right, we need only find where the last Diath cast his spell, and undo it."
I stared up at the great canopy of Tirnanog's tree. If the magic here was meant to call to me, I felt nothing.
Raising a hand to shield my face, I staggered up a hill, tripping over scorched roots. At its peak, Brighid froze. And my heart stopped.
A city painted the horizon. Beneath the tree's protective shield, towers rose toward stormy heavens, silver spirals against the night.
A lush plain of thick grass dotted with violet flowers wrapped the walls.
Vines crawled up their length, overgrown from years untended.
From the firmament, lightning plunged, and the world inhaled its charge.
The flowers and trees danced beneath its touch, glowing with an electric pulse.
Home. Tirnanog.
My heart soared. I finally gazed upon that which I'd only dreamed of. The place I belonged. The people I had lost.
"Look there." Brighid pointed above the towers.
Hidden behind the great tree's leaves, the sky was broken. It looked as though someone had taken a god's knife and torn a hole between the stars.
Violet light poured from the sky, and a twister grew from its tail.
"What is that?" I asked.
"Where our Diath cast his spell," Brighid shouted. "Can you mend it closed?"
I took a step forward, and my heart plummeted.
That twister pouring from the hole in the sky would be raging in the center of the city. Unchecked. For nearly thirty years.
Under these conditions . . . how would anyone have survived?
Why had this happened to my home? Who had done this?
Despair washed over me like a cold wave. I had known all along this was the only possibility. Something—or someone—had long silenced my people.
Hot rage twisted through my veins, chasing away the frozen grief. Yanking Cierthine from its hilt, I pulled on the deep well of magic buried within the blade.
And felt nothing heed my call.
The violet light pulsing on Cierthine's steel faded, and it felt foreign in my hands, as though it no longer belonged to me.
Reese had warned me this would happen.
'Killian had tried to reach Tirnanog. But Cierthine stopped obeying him.'
The magic running through my veins muted. I felt like a child looking upon an ancient hero—an ant before a dragon.
Staring up into that terrible hole in the world, it was like the winds themselves whispered to me.
'You are nothing. Less. You breathe because I allow it.'
If the changing of the world when we touched marked us as Diath, if the birds heralding danger confirmed our identity, then . . .
Then I was no Diath of storm. But of shadow.
"I'm not who you think!" I shouted. "Cierthine won't heed me."
"What?" Brighid blinked. "But if not you, then—”
"Ferris," I blurted out. "Diar said the same thing that happens between us happened with Ferris. It's him."
Brighid's eyes darted around. Slowly, they steadied on my face. "If you are not storm, then you are . . . "
I flinched as lightning struck the ground nearby, cleaving a crater in the earth. "Going to be dead soon." I finished her dangerous thought. "We need to turn back."
Wincing, Brighid turned and fled down the hill. I followed close behind, trying to shove Cierthine back into its hilt.
It was like it resisted me. Like it wanted to stay.
The tension around it snapped, and it slid into its hilt with a loud click. We sprinted across the plain, toward the glow of gold waiting for us on the other side.
Fire raced down Brighid's arm, searing in her veins. Her shield fell away, and she collapsed onto her hands and knees a few paces from the horses.
I stumbled, landing on my knee beside her. Reese was at my side within a heartbeat.
"Are you alright?" He asked, taking my arms.
"I'm fine," I gasped, voice trembling.
I could still hear the thunder, vibrating deep within my skull.
"I'm alright," Brighid coughed. "Don't check on me, really."
Bláth ran to her side and offered a hand. "The storm hasn't stopped."
"Astute observation." Brighid's voice dripped with sarcasm. She turned her palm over, studying the fiery veins.
She'd nearly reached her limit, holding up that shield.
Violet veins had covered Killian's corpse. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the piles of blood and body parts that had surrounded him.
"I couldn't do it," I said. "Cierthine stopped obeying me—just as it did with Killian."
Reese helped me to my feet. "Maybe no one can heal the skies here."
"Nonsense.” Brighid brushed her hair behind her ears. "We reached the city itself—no one has gotten that far. And we can bring to the king a report of the storm's cause."
She launched into a description of the tear. Exhaling, I turned back toward the tree's all-encompassing canopy—a shadow behind shadows.
Claiming I'd found the cause of the storms would not be the victory I'd hoped for.
With a start, I realized my brother had said nothing of my safe return. Preparing a sharp jab, I spun, searching for him.
It died on my lips.
Liam held his elk's reins, knuckles white. His back was turned to us. I followed his gaze—south, toward the Ceorthan Shadowlands.
"Liam?" I called.
He did not so much as twitch.
Pulling out of Reese's grip, I trudged to his side. "You could at least pretend to be relieved, you know?"
Touching his arm, I stepped around to his front. Fog concealed his pale-green irises, and though I stood an inch from his face, he did not look at me.
"Liam?" I asked, voice a whisper.
This time, he heard me. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head. It took several moments for him to focus on me—like he'd been somewhere else entirely, but a moment ago.
"Mare." He sounded confused. "Good." He straightened out. "You're still alive."
"I'm fine," I said quietly. "Are you?"
Liam looked past me. A warm hand fell upon my shoulder, and I looked up to see Reese behind me.
"We should get further away." His golden eyes darted up. "Starlight is fading. And this seems like a hellish place to make camp."
He squeezed my shoulder gently, but his eyes lingered on Liam.
Reese had noticed my brother's odd behavior.
Saints, I had so many secrets to keep, and not only for myself.
I'd never be able to hide them all.
Be it by Paragon or Inquisitor, death would claim one of us soon.