The Shadow Wand

by Laurie Forest

  I cling to Lukas as he kisses me deeply and his magic sears through me in a fierce, contained inferno. Wave after wave of blisteringly hot magic. Burning away my fear as the heady sense of his controlled power keeps rushing in to take hold of my own.

  Then Lukas draws back, his green eyes blazing.

  I’m thrumming with magic now, my breathing uneven and my skin feverishly hot, every part of me lit up by our combined power. But with Lukas’s control now coursing over and through my lines, my magic is no longer chaotic and fitful.

  It’s reined in and deadly.

  Lukas’s mouth lifts into a half smile as he moves back a fraction and reaches up to gently caress my cheek with his hot palm. “That’s better.”

  I swallow, flushed and overwhelmed by the strength of our combined power. And desperate to maintain control over it so that Vogel won’t find me. “I need your power to survive this,” I say, coming to a full reckoning.

  “You won’t always,” Lukas firmly counters. “Not after you have some control over your own magic. And, Elloren, you will gain control over it. But you need to get hold of your emotions, and fast. Once we’re out of the Realm, I’ll teach you how to control your power and shield yourself. It’s complicated magery, but we’ll work through it. I’ll teach you every last thing I know about magic.”

  I nod stiffly at this and force myself to breathe evenly as Lukas’s thumb strokes my shoulder, a line of sparks chasing his warm caress. I hold his stare, his eyes set tight on me in the deep-red light.

  “Elloren, you’re stronger than you think,” he insists, adamant. “I’m sure of it. I always have been. Even though you don’t think you’re equal to this. You are.”

  I want to believe him. I want to be strong enough to face this and fight back. And Lukas’s unwavering faith in me fortifies a small piece of my battered courage. He’s never coddled me, even though, sometimes, I’ve hated him for it. But he’s always believed in me.

  “Sometimes I feel like you understand me better than anyone else,” I confess. “Better than I understand myself.”

  His lips lift with a slight trace of amusement. “That’s because I do understand you better than anyone else. Elloren, our affinities are a perfect match. I know you inside and out, as I suspect you know me. And I can read your emotions in your fire.”

  I nod, the prickling flush heating my neck as affection for Lukas warms my lines. “It’s more than that.”

  “I know it is,” he agrees, a rakish glint in his eyes. “We’re both rebels from the same background.”

  Gardnerians. Born into the same oppressive culture. Both of us forced to wrestle with the same lies and myths and religious strictures.

  “That’s part of it,” I agree, “but it’s more than that too, Lukas.”

  Something deep with import flashes in Lukas’s gaze, the silence between us growing emotional and charged. “I know,” he admits.

  “You help me to be strong.”

  Lukas shakes his head, his brow creasing. “No. We help each other be strong.”

  His sentiment is so kind and so heartfelt that my warm affection strikes into a blaze, and I yearn, in that moment, for a way to bring down the wall of grief around my heart, even though I know that the wall may never fully come down.

  I loved Yvan with everything in me, and I might never recover from his loss, but I can feel my battered heart opening up a small space for Lukas.

  And I realize, in that moment, that a heart is a thing not so easily destroyed by the shadows.

  “I want you to kiss me,” I tell Lukas, yearning to fill up that space in my heart with him and his fire and keep hold of him there. Wanting to drive back the shadows.

  Lukas gives me an impassioned look. “Elloren, I’ll kiss you all night if you want me to.”

  The ache to be close to him ignites and quickly fires up to a blaze.

  “Did you bring the Sanjire root?” I ask throatily, my heartbeat deepening.

  The question flickers on the air between us, as if writ in flame, our magic giving an insistent pull toward each other.

  Lukas breathes out a sound of disbelief as he gives me a heated, significant look. Then he reaches into his tunic’s pocket, draws out the vial, and hands it to me. The vial’s glass catches the crimson lantern light as I unstopper it, pull out a tendril of the root, and place it in my mouth.

  Lukas’s gaze turns molten as I chew the root and swallow.

  We stare at each other for a long moment as heat flares in the air between us. Then Lukas draws me into an embrace, his lips grazing my ear. “Are you sure, Elloren?”

  “I’m sure,” I say as our magic weaves together and every inch between us sparks with heat. “I want you,” I tell him, certain. “And we’re stronger together.”

  “For the good of the Realms, then?” Lukas purrs, his deep voice thrumming straight through me along with a shimmering flash of his power.

  “For the good of the Realms,” I agree, surrendering to the pull as our affinities spiral around each other.

  Lukas brings his mouth to mine, and it sends a heated charge through us both as thunder cracks, our magic fuses, and the whole world catches fire.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TRACKED

  ELLOREN GREY

  Sixth Month

  Caledonian Forest, Gardneria

  I wake up to find Lukas gone from the shelter, his steps scuffing the ground outside, the rain ceased. No sounds of dragonflight above.

  My affinity lines are all wrong.

  It’s as if, during the night, the forest pierced through each line with a minuscule hook then pulled the lines taut in every direction away from my wand hand, giving me the sensation of being a fly caught in a spider’s vast web.

  Caught by the trees.

  Stiff from sleeping on the ground as well as the disquieting sensation of being tethered to the trees, I clumsily throw on my clothing and push my cloth-wrapped Wand into the side of my boot, then step out of the hut into the cool, damp air.

  Lukas is tightening the girths and securing our packs to the horses, his masculine form washed in the otherworldly gray light of dawn, a gauzy mist hanging in the air, rendering the surrounding forest dreamlike, as if all its hard lines have been erased.

  Our eyes meet.

  Lukas’s eyes narrow. “Elloren, what’s wrong?”

  I glance around at the wilds, disturbed by the sudden absence of the forest’s ire. “The trees,” I say, my throat tightening with distress, “I can feel them pulling on my lines. Stronger than before. It’s like they’re actively trying to distort my power so that it can’t reach my wand hand.” I survey the ground around us. Then, finding a wand-like branch, I pick it up, the affinity power inside me leaping toward it.

  “Elloren, they can’t harm you,” Lukas insists. “They’re conduits of power, nothing more—”

  “Hold my wand hand,” I cut in. “Tell me what you feel.”

  Lukas comes over to stand just behind me as he places both his hands around mine. I tighten my fist around the branch in turn and point it at the forest in front of us.

  Just that action prompts a palpable cinching of my magic. The threads of power hooked to my lines pull stingingly taut into what feels like a binding weave, and I look back at Lukas.

  His eyes have tightened with grim appraisal as his gaze flicks from the branch then out toward the mist-shrouded trees.

  The eerily calm trees.

  “Do you sense their hostility anymore?” I challenge him, my voice tight from the pain cinching my wand arm.

  And from my rising alarm.

  Lukas considers this as he grows quiet with apparent concentration, as if listening to the air. “No,” he finally says.

  A dread of certainty takes hold. “That’s because I’ve been bound.”

  Lukas shakes his head. “It doesn’t
make sense. Trees can’t wield magic.”

  “Can an entire forest bind it?”

  Lukas grows still, a dark sense of realization enveloping us. He scans the forest surrounding us, as if sizing up a foe he’s vastly underestimated before he brings his piercing green eyes back to mine. “We’ll get past the forest and unbind whatever they’ve done to your lines. How’s the shield?” he asks, still holding my hands.

  “It’s strong.” Of course it is, with the amount of power we generated last night. My face warms just to think of it as I shoot a glare at the wilds, feeling as if we’re surrounded for leagues and leagues by a wrathful army.

  That’s patiently waiting to strike.

  A chill snakes down my spine. “I need to get out of the forest, Lukas.”

  Lukas nods and finishes securing our packs as I move to mount my horse and lift my foot to the stirrup.

  Suddenly, my back is hit by a blast of magic and the world goes dark.

  My body arches and I fall to the ground as the breath is forced from my lungs and every muscle goes rigid. The image of the Shadow tree crashes through my vision, its limbs forking like lightning over Lukas’s shield, rattling it as it strikes.

  And then the blast of magic is torn away, like bindings viciously ripped off, as fire races over my lines and the darkness blinks out, the sensation of Lukas’s embrace and fiery kiss sweeping in, feeding power into my shield.

  I gasp for breath against Lukas’s mouth, surprised to find myself on my knees along with Lukas, my whole body trembling against his.

  The trees have drawn back, their hold on me loosened, as if they, too, have been blown back by terror. As if they felt Vogel’s power.

  But my shield is intact.

  Lukas draws back and presses his forehead to mine, both of us breathing hard, his arms tight around me as I keep desperate hold of him and his fire pulses through me. But his magic and his shield around my lines can’t assuage the horror that’s taken hold.

  “Vogel knows I’m alive.”

  Lukas swallows and pulls back a fraction more, and I notice there’s a line of sweat along his hairline, his face still tensed from obvious magical effort. “He does,” he says, his tone rattled. “And he must have some idea of our direction.”

  “He’s coming for me.”

  Lukas nods, his mouth a tight line. “Yes. But hopefully we’ll be out of the Realm and ready for him before he finds us. We need to leave. Now.”

  Lukas and I rise and swiftly mount our horses.

  Doubt claws at me as I take hold of my mare’s reins. “How can we possibly get over the Caledonian Mountain Range before Vogel finds us?” Morbid sarcasm bubbles up, fueled by desperation. “Do you have a dragon hidden somewhere who can fly us over the mountains?”

  Lukas doesn’t smile as he prods his horse into motion. “We’ll go east through a Noi portal. We’ll use it to bypass the mountains completely and transport straight into the Eastern Desert.”

  Surprise lights like flint sparks on steel in response to this revelation.

  “How long have you known about a portal?” I ask.

  “Not long,” he says as he pulls into the lead. “I read its location in your rune stone.”

  “Is the portal close?” I ask.

  “A day’s ride,” he answers, his tone that of someone ready to face down an army of demons to get us out of here.

  “Well, let’s find that portal, then,” I say, as we pick up the pace and a fierce determination rises within me. “Let’s get the hell away from Vogel and all these trees.”

  * * *

  We head due north throughout the day as we skirt the imposing side of the Caledonian Range, its snowcapped peaks becoming visible through the forest’s canopy. The trees seem to be ignoring us after being hit by Vogel’s spell, their hold on my lines diminished to a loose sting.

  Hold on to me while you can, I fume at the trees. Soon I’m going to step through a portal and rip myself clear out of your grasp.

  As a steel-gray twilight is taking hold, I follow Lukas’s lead as he veers out of the woods and onto a forest-bracketed road, the shadows of encroaching night rapidly lengthening as we take off at a faster clip.

  After a time, the faint thud of galloping hoofbeats sounds behind us, rapidly growing louder.

  Fright spears through me, but Lukas doesn’t deviate. He glances back once and stays the course, but I notice he holds the reins in one hand and keeps the other close to the wand sheathed at his side.

  My pulse racing, I glance back and see two cloaked figures astride dark green Uriskal Thoroughbreds, closing in on us with what seems like an unsettling aura of purpose.

  I pull in a tight breath, wishing I could wield the Wand in my boot.

  “Lukas,” I say in a coarse whisper as we speed forward, but before I can get more words out, the riders are upon us, one drawing up on either side, their faces obscured by their cloaks’ hoods. My lungs constrict, all my muscles tensing as I ready myself for flight.

  “Hello, Chi Nam, Valasca,” Lukas calmly calls out, relaxing his hold on his wand.

  Shock takes hold as one of the riders pulls down her hood, and I realize, in a harder explosion of surprise, that’s it is Valasca, her spiked hair glistening blue and black in the dim light, her pointed ears and blue, sharp-featured, rune-marked face lit with an expression of amusement. Her dark eyes, full of mischief, meet mine.

  “Why, hello there, Elloren,” she says playfully as we all slow to a brisk canter. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Heart pounding, I whip my head to my other side to find Chi Nam’s hood now down, as well. The Noi rune sorceress’s wizened, deep-brown face and shrewd black eyes meet mine briefly, a small smile on her lips as she rides up beside Lukas, her white hair tied back in a coiled braid, her rune staff wrapped in a black cloth sleeve and secured against her horse’s side.

  I turn back to Valasca. “Ancient One,” I gasp as I’m flooded with relief. I glance at the hilts of Valasca’s rune blades, the weapons briefly visible as her cloak shifts, the runes on them glowing Noi blue and Amaz scarlet. “How did you find us?” I ask, stunned.

  Chi Nam gestures toward Lukas with her thumb. “This one. He contacted me through the rune stone I gave you.” She gives Lukas a calculating smile. “So, Mage Grey, what do you think our chances are of keeping her alive, hmm?”

  Lukas laughs. “Better now.”

  His tone is shot through with more relief than I’ve ever heard him express, and I realize that finding Chi Nam and Valasca in time was a long shot that Lukas took.

  Because it was likely our only shot.

  Chi Nam’s smile widens as she looks him over. “You’re finally coming over to the right side, I see.”

  Lukas gives another short laugh. “I’d say we’re on the universally unpopular side at the moment.”

  Valasca makes a dismissive sound. “Long odds are more interesting.”

  “I’m so glad to see you,” I say to Valasca, still breathless with surprise.

  “You do know the Amaz sent me to kill you?” Valasca wryly returns, and a streak of unease races through me.

  “I can’t believe the Amaz are after me too,” I say, the whole situation feeling more surreal than ever.

  Valasca cocks a brow at me. “You definitely know how to make an entrance onto the world’s stage.” Her mouth quirks into a grin as she glances around at our small party, then sets her irreverent gaze back on me and shakes her head. “Well, Black Witch, this is certainly nothing I could have ever imagined.” Her gaze flits down to take in my fast-and Sealing-marked hands. Her gaze flicks to Lukas then back to me as she shoots me a knowing smile. “Difficult times make for interesting bedfellows, wouldn’t you say?”

  Before I can feel embarrassed by her jest, Valasca tightens her legs, signals to her horse in the Noi language, and speeds up to a gallop,
quickly passing Lukas.

  “Come on,” Valasca calls back to all of us with a beckoning wave. “If we’re going to keep Elloren alive, we need to make a portal jump to the Eastern Desert.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RUNE SORCERY

  ELLOREN GREY

  Sixth Month

  Caledonian Forest, Gardneria

  We ride northeast via a dirt road that cuts through dense pine forest, Lukas and Chi Nam in the lead, Valasca taking up the rear as night descends. Our path is lit by crimson light from our Amaz runic lanterns as well as a ball of blue light that Chi Nam has conjured to float above the tip of the rune staff that’s now strapped diagonally across her back. Every so often, Valasca draws her rune stylus, murmurs a Noi spell, and throws out a net of blue lines to magically cover our tracks.

  Words brush up against my mind, limned with malice.

  Black Witch.

  My neck prickles as I glance sidelong at the pine forest, the immense Sitka Spruce trees rising almost as tall as the Sithoy evergreens. I recognize the Sitkas’ thick needles, scaled trunks, and pendulous cones. I saw these trees in visions throughout my childhood, as I cut and sanded wood with Uncle Edwin, the Sitka wood perfect for transmitting sound.

  Perfect for fashioning into violins.

  The happy memory vanishes as we ride through their spiteful legions. The trees’ accusatory words are a gust of relentless wind in the back of my mind as a disturbing awareness grows of their aura straining to draw my lines into a snarl.

  I remind myself that we’ll be out of the forest soon and away from its ability to bind magic.

  “Any word of what’s happened?” Lukas asks Chi Nam.

  “Our forces took out most of the Mage Council when they hit your family’s estate,” she tells him, then hesitates. “I heard that your family was killed.”