Secrets #2
He patted Phillip on the shoulder. The gentle giant responded by bending one foreleg and bowing low, giving Slaide easier access to the saddle. When they’d righted themselves, the pair turned to face Hazel. “Any more questions?”
Wordlessly, Hazel mounted Nanna before addressing him. “Just one. What now?”
“Follow me.”
Finally happening upon the sundered section of the Border was… anticlimactic. If Slaide hadn’t pointed it out, she’d have been none the wiser.
“This is it?” she asked, her anticipation fading.
“This is it. Sorry to disappoint.”
“No—it’s just… Well, I was expecting a giant torn hole and scorched earth. I can’t even tell what I’m looking at here.” She cocked her head to the side.
“Do you feel it? The Border?” he asked.
“Is that what it is?” Something was buzzing in her ears. In her bones. It was reminiscent of visiting Agnes’s cottage and passing through her wards, but stronger. More dangerous somehow. As usual, the locket thrummed with nervous energy, growing warmer the closer they advanced.
“Yes. And that’s just the edge of it. It’s stronger the closer you get. Generally, it only affects magic-wielders, though some don’t feel it at all. And For others… it can be rather unpleasant. Are you still feeling ok?”
“I am. So, where’s the hole?” There was no sign of one, and she was growing more curious by the minute.
This earned her a childish smile from Slaide.
“Seriously? Grow up.” She shook her head in disbelief, though she wanted so badly to laugh. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction.
“Right, then. This way. Let’s leave the horses here for now and go on foot. It won’t be far.”
“Should I expect any surprises this time?” She raised a brow.
“You’re in the Wilds. You should always expect a surprise, because then nothing will catch you off guard.”
“Wow, you’re quite the philosopher, aren’t you?”
Slaide snorted and dismounted Phillip. He draped the reins over the horn of the saddle and gave him a pat on the side.
Hazel followed suit, sliding off of Nanna’s broad back.
It wasn’t much of a distance to the ground, but the pony’s width added some difficulty to the dismount, requiring Hazel to swing her leg quite a bit further.
She grunted, barely landing on her feet, and Nanna looked back at her in disapproval before dropping her head to the grass.
Hazel followed Slaide between the trees, the tingling sensation growing more intense as they pressed onward.
She was wondering when they would arrive at the actual Border.
Surely something so widely known, revered, and feared would be easy to see as they approached.
Up ahead, the forest path widened into a clearing.
To her dismay, that was right where they headed.
She was tired of glades and clearings in forests. They never held anything good.
As if on cue, her line of sight opened up to reveal a new addition to her list of probably-not-good things.
“What is that?” she gasped.
“What is what?” He asked without looking back at her.
“That thing!” She pointed out in front of them at the giant pillar in the center of the clearing. It was…vibrating? Could he feel it, too?
“Oh, that? That’s just an obelisk.”
Oh right. As though she should have just known. Stupid uneducated girl from her stupid backwater town. Of course, it was an obelisk.
“And what do obelisks do?” Because it was making her stomach want to turn inside out just looking at it. Slaide turned slightly to look at her, but before he could so much as open his mouth, she cut him off. “I don’t need to be patronized. Just tell me.”
He sighed. “The obelisks are crucial to the stability of the Border. They work kind of like a fence post, an anchor point for the anti-magic wards that stretch between them, fencing magical things out. The field that makes up the Border itself lies between each obelisk. They provide grounding and a backup source of power should the wards themselves ever fail.”
Interesting indeed. “Is it the obelisks that are failing or the wards?”
“We don’t know.” She could see how it pained him to admit it. Slaide, who prided himself on being right. Slaide, who always had an answer.
“I see. So how do we find the break in the wards?” She was happy to have a distraction, and glad he had one, too. The less he focused on her and her abilities, the better.
“Normally, I start near one of these obelisks and work my way out. When the sensation decreases at an odd rate or an unnatural part of the Border, it means we’re close. This time, though, it’s not going to take that much effort.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we’re almost there,” Slaide said plainly.
Sure enough, as they approached the obelisk, the tingling, buzzing sensation faded. “Is it normal for the Border to be weaker near these pillars?”
“No. They should be strongest here.” A look of concern grew on his face, brow furrowing. As she walked to his side, he stuck a protective arm out, blocking her from taking another step. “Stay behind me. Touch nothing.”
Well, that’s less comforting than it should be. But she obliged him, if only because she didn’t want to lose her head.
The base of the obelisk was broad. It towered over them, reaching twice as tall as the tallest tree. Slaide looked up at it, then at its base, running his fingers through the grass, looking for something. Wordlessly, he stood and walked toward the broken portion of Border.
While he busied himself with his search, Hazel approached the obelisk.
From a distance, its surface looked so plain…
just black. But up close, it was spectacular.
The stone was almost glossy, its smooth surface dotted with speckles of gray, white, and silver.
It reminded her of the night sky back home.
The same sky she used to lie under and count the stars with Zeke—when life was simple.
His invasion into her thoughts startled her.
Where was Zeke? Why hadn’t he come to check on her?
Did he know she was in the castle? Did he know she was alive?
While her thoughts wandered, she reached out to touch the stone.
It was cold; so much colder than she’d expected and she drew her hand back in a flash.
But then she reached out again, feeling the coldness, embracing it.
Just above head height, a blue glyph appeared from within the stone, as though the stone itself was glowing.
It was blue, glowing so bright it almost looked white.
She stared at it with the cluelessness of a child staring at the sun, ignoring the warning that flared beneath her shirt.
Slaide looked over his shoulder in time to find Hazel with her hand against the obelisk and the blue glyph glowing on the stone surface, indicating the pillar was still active.
He was on his feet in a flash, charging toward Hazel, yelling at her to back up, but she couldn’t hear him. The world around her buzzed louder. Louder.
The glyph morphed into an angry red. Even with his unnatural speed, he would not make it to her in time.
The world around them slowed to a crawl.
Tendrils of smoke and shadow leaped from him and made a beeline for Hazel.
He threw as much force into them as he could.
His shadows barreled into her the very moment the obelisk erupted in light, throwing them both on their asses several yards away.
His shadows withdrew into him as he ran over to her. She was lying on her back panting, eyes wide as dinner plates and hands gripping the grass at her sides.
“Spinning?” He asked.
She barely glanced at him before squeezing her eyes shut.
“That would have killed you.” He scowled. “Should have killed you.”
“What was it? Why did that happen?” She was out of breath, a combination of having the wind knocked out of her and being scared half to death.
“That, my dear Hazel, was the Border demonstrating how it works. Except it failed, since you’re not a pile of ash. You’re welcome, by the way.”
She tossed him one of her now-signature go-fuck-yourself glares. “That just makes us even.”
His laugh sparked something she chose to ignore. “Fair enough.”
“Well,” she said, standing and dusting herself off, “clearly the obelisk is functioning.”
“Indeed. Better than I’d expected. But while you were playing the game of touch-stuff-and-die, my investigation turned up something interesting.” He held up his open palm.
“What is that?” She moved closer. There were fine black granules in his hand.
“It’s salt.”