by Ella M. Lee
I watched as the clouds swirled and the ocean churned and the wind blew the sand into tiny spiraling designs.
Then…
Stillness.
One moment, motion and bubbling and simmering and building. The next moment, nothing. Everything in the air, all the power and charge, dropped. Vertigo, then nothing. Like snow settling on a winter night. Like a cloud passing over the sun. Like the ending note of a song.
For close to three or four seconds, there was nothing at all.
Then…
Life.
Everything started back up, like a vinyl record skittering and then finding its groove.
The magic around us clicked into place and seemed solid and real.
Daniel opened his eyes.
“I think that’s it,” he whispered.
His dark eyes were wide and amazed, but the light behind them was gone. He looked exhausted, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his shoulders heaving, his jaw tensed in what seemed like pain.
I reached out and took his hands in mine. They were limp and clammy.
“Let’s get you home, Dan,” I said. My heart was racing.
He took a look around himself and smiled. “Home,” he echoed.
He closed his eyes, and I did the same. With what seemed like great effort, his magic tugged on us.
When I opened my eyes again, we were back in the temple, anchored to our bodies. It didn’t seem like all that much time had passed. I didn’t feel stiff or sore. The power levels in the room hadn’t really changed. I took my hand off the sanctum and glanced around. Nicolas was still and serene, his eyes closed, guiding the flows of magic. Ryan was speaking, but I still couldn’t hear his words.
I stood, dusting off my pants. Dan stood—and stumbled.
I reached out and caught him. His eyes met mine, and he shook his head, dazed.
“Dan,” I said. “Your nose.”
His nose was bleeding. He wiped at it, staring at the blood on his hands. “Huh.” He looked around us, studying the shield. “We’re not quite done yet. There are a couple of last steps. The magic needs to be tied off properly, otherwise it can’t be granted to people. That would mean a sanctum but no magicians. Tragic.”
I laughed weakly, but I didn’t like how tired and stunned he looked. “Well, hurry up. You look like you need a nap.”
“Yeah, a long nap,” he said, sighing. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Okay, Fi. It’s time for you to go. This last part is mine alone.”
“But…” I said. “I’ll wait with you.”
He shook his head. “Not this time. I’m going to get you safely out of here, and then I’m going to finish this up.”
“I can’t cross the shield,” I pointed out.
“There is enough power here now to make it safe. I can use the sanctum to craft a shield for you.”
“Do you need more magic from me? To finish the work?” I asked, worried. “I have… well, at least a little left.”
“Nah, you’re drained. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, waving me off. “I’m good. In fact… one last thing before you go, while we have this awesome protective circle around us, and we can do crazy things.”
I tilted my head at him, confused.
He took my wrist and held it up, his fingers touching my bracelet. He smiled. “This is very pretty, just like you.”
I brushed my hand over his hair. “Be serious, Dan.”
“I’m very serious,” he said. “Hand it over for a second.”
“What?”
He flicked his fingers at me in impatience. I undid the clasp and unwound the rope, placing the coiled bracelet in his outstretched palm.
He shifted it onto his left palm. With his right hand, he drew a ward over it, something complex that I didn’t recognize. He then moved it to his right hand and drew the same design with his left hand. He pressed his palms together with the jade charm directly between them, his hands so tight that their skin had gone white.
He was funneling magic into the stone.
“Dan…” I said.
“Shh…” he replied, distracted.
A full minute went by with him deep in concentration, staring off into nothing. Finally, he took a deep, wheezing breath. “Put out your hands, Fi.”
I did as he asked. A moment later, he pressed the bracelet into my hands. He looked into my eyes and smiled. The jade in my hand was practically vibrating with energy, shifting and humming with magic.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Just something nice for my best friend,” he said. “Because I love you.”
“What is it?”
“A surprise. When the circle is gone and the sanctum is calm, you’ll see what I did.”
“Dan…” I said.
He rubbed his hands together and looked around us. “Okay, final step. Then it’s all over.”
He backed me up so that I was close to the shield. I pushed against him.
“I want to stay,” I said.
“No can do,” he said. “This last part is a little dangerous.”
“Then I definitely want to stay.”
“You’re not dying for this cause,” he said.
“Neither are you!”
“I’m only doing exactly what I planned, don’t worry,” he said. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course…” I said. My commander, whom I trusted more than myself.
He smiled again. “Then close your eyes. This will be bright.”
“Dan,” I said, grabbing his shoulders. There was anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach. “Promise me that you’re not doing anything stupid right now.”
“Excuse me,” he said indignantly. He smacked my arm weakly. “I have never done anything stupid in my life.”
My hand still gripped my bracelet tightly as I studied his eyes. Their dark irises were lit purple and blue, as affectionate and endearing as I had ever seen them.
“See you on the other side, Fi,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
I did as he asked, and he spun me to face the shield. It was so bright that it seared through my eyelids. With quick, precise, strong motions, I felt Daniel draw a rune on my back. A ward. It flared to life, its magic enveloping me with Dan’s beautiful lightning magic. Our beautiful magic. A powerful jolt of it caused even more light to pulse behind my closed eyelids.
Unceremoniously, Dan pushed me through the shield. Vertigo shook me as I passed through the barrier. The shield’s magic burnt up around me, and power clawed at me. My eyes snapped open as I hit the ground on the other side. I scrambled to my hands and knees, turning.
Daniel was watching me. When he saw me stand, he smiled. It was a radiant smile, relieved and content. He nodded once and pressed a hand to the shield.
“Wait…” I whispered, lunging, seeing a decision form behind his eyes.
My hands connected with the shield, but it was too late. It was no longer a mix of Nicolas and Daniel’s magic. Dan had clobbered the shield completely, taking it over. Nicolas had all of us to throw power at it, but Daniel had an entire sanctum, in a volatile and overloaded state of inversion. He could keep a shield impenetrable for hours, days, weeks.
He had locked us out.
“No!” I yelled.
I banged the shield with my hands, trying to engage my transference. It didn’t work. Daniel had locked me out, too, and I knew he’d done it intentionally.
Dan pressed both hands to his shield and gave me a significant look. He shook his head.
“No!” I yelled again. “You idiot! No!”
I banged harder, but it didn’t work. Whatever Dan had done had knocked Nicolas out of his focused state. He blinked, confused, stumbling to his feet.
“Nicolas!” I said. “Break the shield! Dan is going to kill himself doing whatever comes next!”
Nicolas’s frantic eyes met mine for half a second. He thrust power into it as hard as he could, a deluge of Water magic like I had ever seen from him before.
But i
t wasn’t going to work. He knew that. I knew that. Dan knew that.
Dan shook his head again, more urgently this time. He glanced at Nicolas for a couple of seconds, his expression grave and severe, before looking back at me. He gave me a small smile and made a slight shooing motion with his hand. Go on, he was saying. It’s okay.
“No!” I yelled. “Dan! Dan!”
There were tears in my eyes as my fist hit the shield again and again.
Daniel stepped back with graceful, dancelike movements that landed him next to the sanctum again.
“Nicolas!” I sobbed. “Ryan!”
But there was nothing any of us could do except watch. Nicolas’s magic was nothing against the hurricane of the sanctum Dan had created. I heard Ryan swear once and then again. Nicolas’s power was destabilizing the shield, and Ryan was fighting to keep it consistent; if it broke, we’d all be fucked.
And I could do nothing because all my magic was inside that shield, inside the poem of magic that Dan and I had just written.
Daniel placed his hands on the sanctum. He was still smiling, happy and content, his handsome features more alive than I had ever seen before. Dan was in love with magic, in love with his magic, and all the life it contained.
The sanctum began to glow brighter. It grew so bright that I had to close my eyes. I fell to my knees, still clawing at the shield, my breathing painful and ragged.
Nicolas had poured everything he had into trying to break the shield; I heard him drop to the floor next to me, but I couldn’t open my eyes or move, pinned by the pressure and power of the sanctum as its magic filled the room, electrifying the air like it had on the beach.
Then…
Like a switch had been flicked, the magic was gone. The glow invading my eyelids went dark. The electricity was gone. I opened my eyes, dizzy and disoriented.
Residual magic hung in the air like falling snow, like twinkling stars, lighting the room dimly. The sanctum churned and glowed faintly, purple and blue and white power sparkling inside the glass.
Daniel was gone.
Chapter 31
The worst thing was, nothing that had happened had been unpleasant, none of it had been scary, none of it was wholly unexpected.
Nothing odd.
Nothing weird.
No pain.
No crushing difficulty.
No resistance.
I was still on my knees. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t conceive of what had just taken place.
Dan. Why?
My commander, whom I loved more than oxygen, or life, or magic—gone. No trace of him. Nothing left.
Daniel, no.
I still couldn’t move.
The others were similarly dazed, dealing with the aftermath of the magical vertigo, opening their eyes and stumbling to their feet.
Trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.
It’s amazing how tragedy can manage to slow time to a crawl. It was as though I could see every millimeter of movement, feel each emotion for an eternity as they swept through me one by one. Disbelief. Confusion. Dawning realization. Tendrils of pain blooming. My heart breaking bit by bit as I watched, unable to move.
Ryan, scrambling toward the sanctum, his hands outstretched. Chandra, her fingers on Nicolas’s arms, trying to wake him. Teng, frozen, his face a horrified mask. Athena, standing numbly, looking between me and the power that hung around us, her mouth half open in what seemed like recognition. The echo of a memory rang through me—an image of a charcoal sparrow contorted after beating herself against a window helplessly. Athena had predicted this, but in a way no one could have ever understood.
All of our myriad gifts and powers and still this could happen.
I hadn’t moved, hadn’t drawn breath, hadn’t processed the fact that although our sanctum lived and was filled with Dan’s magic, he was not here.
It took a hundred years for my hand to twitch toward the glowing glass, a hundred autumns of falling leaves for me to stretch my fingers closer, a hundred winters of barren sadness before I could speak his name.
And yet, no time at all.
“Daniel,” I said.
My voice wasn’t anguished. It wasn’t sad. It wasn’t even rushed. I caressed each syllable as though falling in love with them one by one. I said them each in the unhurried way I might while calling for him to wait up for me on a hiking path, while trying to get his attention in a crowded room, while wondering if I could get him to smile at me and roll his eyes.
The room was silent against my single, inadequate word. Every set of eyes went to me, except Nicolas’s—he was unconscious, but thankfully still breathing. Yet I couldn’t make myself care about that in the face of what had just happened.
Dan, my darling commander. What have you done?
What had all of us done? It occurred to me that this was where our pride had led—we who thought we could disrupt the order of everything, remake things in our image, change the world.
None of us had thought we’d actually have to pay the blood sacrifice required for it.
I wanted to speak. I wanted to move. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to take everything back. No more than a minute or two had passed since Daniel had disappeared.
How could such a small amount of time change so much?
And what was I supposed to do now?
I swallowed. Once. Twice. Three times. My mouth was a desert, my tongue was sandpaper. I didn’t think my lungs could keep supplying oxygen to my brain, yet somehow they did. My hand dropped to my side again and brushed against something hard and ropey on the floor beside me.
My bracelet.
It was still imbued with power, glowing and shifting. It called to me, a beautiful piece of magic that sang my name. It took me a long time—only seconds, really, but they felt like forever—to recognize what it was.
A sanctum. My sanctum.
Daniel had died, and he had left behind the beginnings of a new clan—a sanctum, and one commander.
Me.
I closed my hands around the jade charm. I pressed it between my palms. I’d always imagined being raised to commander as arduous and difficult, but I didn’t need to be told what to do with this magic, because it was mine. Daniel had made a new soul for me, a new core. With barely a thought, I engaged my transference and gasped as magic flooded into me.
Beautiful magic, dynamic magic, perfect magic. It emptied me out and filled me, clobbering my Water magic and the source it flowed from completely. My new power settled itself within me, stretching over me and through me from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes. I was electrified, crackling, strong. I wrapped the magic within me, allowing it to bloom and expand to fill all the space it needed, stretching endlessly into the echo of a wild garden and sprawling fields of corn and dirt roads that extended limitlessly.
Someday I would need to explore myself, my sanctum, but for now I simply cast my eyes around the room at the clan that was now mine.
Lightning Clan.
Meant for everyone here except its progenitor. All of us but one.
One foot in front of the other. One motion and then the next. We had so much to do. There was no time to think of Daniel. The one time I had let myself near the edge of hysterical breakdown, his voice, sharp and strong in my head, centered me.
You have others to look out for, Fi.
We were in danger, and there were a hundred precautions to take before any of us could spare a moment for grief. It lingered instead like a stray cat begging for scraps at the door, howling impatiently. I could ignore it, but it was still there, still bothering me, still yearning for my attention.
What would my life be without Ryan to do what I couldn’t? It was him who got us moving. Our eyes had met briefly in the most profound understanding that had ever passed between us. He had taken my hands in his and squeezed them. I had closed my eyes and willed back tears. Grief would be something we could share later. For now, we had to safe
guard the magic Daniel had given us.
That was more important than anything else.
Nicolas was still unconscious. He wasn’t hurt; he was simply overextended. I had no idea what I was going to say to him when he woke, had no idea what he knew or remembered.
Stop, I told myself. There are other things to do now.
One by one, the others stood before Ryan as he ripped their Water magic out. I could tell that they were all devastated, massacred first by the loss of Daniel, and now wracked by the confusion and pain that came with having a clan’s magic forcibly taken from them.
Ryan walked me through the process of granting magic from the sanctum to each member of our clan. I couldn’t look a single one of them in the eye; I simply did as instructed nine times. We were incredibly lucky that it was docile enough to be granted to others without issues.
Daniel’s work had been perfect so far.
This should have been a happy moment. All of us together, all of us successful, all of us now owning magic that had never existed before. All of us making history.
If only.
When I was done, I was exhausted, shaking, dazed. The others flexed and tested their magic. They seemed to find it amazing. But I’d already known it would be—I’d seen its beginnings. It was only natural that they would love it too. It was worthy of their love.
Ryan needed Nicolas to declan him from Water—it was an ability that commanders had—so for now, he was keeping his Water magic. Once he was clanned to Lightning, he could help transition Nicolas’s magic to our new clan’s power. That had been worked out, too—the complicated process Nicolas would have to go through in order to hold both his Water sanctum and Lightning sanctum in balance before letting the former go and allowing the latter to bond with his body.
And when we had half a moment to stop and think? We had to raise at least some of our magicians to commanders. We needed that strength.
I wanted to stop and cry, but I still had work to do. New magic was dangerous. We didn’t have time to do anything except figure out the basics of Lightning. Wards needed to be crafted, shields needed to be constructed and tested, our home needed to be secured, and we needed to make sure that the rest of the magical world hadn’t noticed our project.
