by Ella M. Lee
I pulled my hands away from his, looking between us nervously, but Nicolas snatched them back.
He shook his head. “Nothing between us could ever be a burden.”
I thought of my often-anxious, self-defeating thoughts and wondered if that was true. “But you can’t keep the mind-reading out?”
He sighed. “I’ve never been able to affect that one. I can close the touch connection, and I can mostly push back the visions, but I’ve never had a handle on the mind-reading. Perhaps someday.” He tilted his head at me, giving me an endearing smile. “But I like you in my head, lamb. You are good company, whether you think so or not, and I am lonely without you.”
That seemed unlikely, but I wasn’t about to bring that up now, when he was being so helpful to me.
He offered me a relieved smile. “I’m keeping the connection between us closed for now, because I need you diving inward. Close your eyes again and center yourself.”
I relaxed my shoulders and did as he asked, letting my head and limbs sag heavily, drawing my attention to the core of magic within me. It churned and sparked and flashed in my mind’s eye, letting me know it was there, waiting. I let myself sink into my magic for a moment, allowing it to fill me and surround me, happy that it lent me strength and stability. I needed that right now.
“Finding your own sanctum,” Nicolas started softly, “is like working through a maze. It is the way of things, true of sanctums in every clan. When I helped Daniel into his sanctum, I blasted a small hole through the walls of that maze and pushed him inside. And you? You’re trying to tear those walls to pieces with your bare hands. I’m not surprised it’s painful. You’re trying to rip your magic apart.”
“So tearing through the maze… that can hurt a commander?”
His low laugh startled me. “Lamb, that can kill a commander. Someday, I will teach you how to fight with magic against a commander who is your equal. Those battles are difficult, and often come down to will. The goal is to crush the sanctum.”
“I asked you… a long time ago… if you had an advantage in fights against commanders because of your mind-reading. Is this part of that? This maze thing?”
“Yes.” Nicolas squeezed my hands. “Now listen. You have a maze within you, and that maze has a door. Forcing your way through either will do no good. With Daniel, it made sense, because he was going to rebuild anyhow. But you… You’ll need to ease into it, to find your way in naturally.”
I swallowed. “What if I can’t?”
“You can,” Nicolas said. “I know you can, because you’ve done it before, you simply don’t realize it.”
My eyes snapped open. “When?”
Nicolas smiled. “When you found your way into my sanctum, you traversed my maze.”
“I thought Ryan pushed me in?”
“Ryan smashed a small hole through the door, but that was all. He wasn’t strong enough to do more, which was why he needed you to lean into your connection to me. You used that to get to me. It was far more impressive than you think.”
“It felt easy.” I shook my head. “Why isn’t this easy?”
“It is,” Nicolas said with a slight laugh. “What did you do to get to me?”
I sighed, thinking back. That night was harder to recall than other nights, due to the sheer amount of stress and adrenaline I’d had running through me. “There was a… silvery string, a thread, headed off toward darkness. I followed it. Really, I held on and dragged myself down it. I don’t know what else to say. One second I was clinging to it, the next second, there was a lot of snow.”
Nicolas’s smile widened. “There is your answer. Go find your own thread and drag yourself through your maze.”
I rolled my eyes. “You make it sound easy.”
“It is,” Nicolas reiterated. He brought my hands to his lips and kissed my fingers. “Listen, I went through this, too. Once you get it, it will be the easiest thing in the world. Instant, natural, perfect. Much like your transmutation, or your transference. Close your eyes. Center yourself. Stop stalling.”
“You sound like Dan,” I griped, but I settled back down and turned my thoughts inward, taking a deep breath, letting that core of magic resonate in me once again.
“Don’t barge in,” Nicolas warned softly. “I want you to take a few more deep breaths.”
I shifted, nervous. Despite his explanations, I was disinclined to try again and risk pain. I couldn’t calm myself enough. Every single noise in the room distracted me, making me jump and twitch.
Nicolas let go of my hands. “Keep breathing,” he said. He clambered off the floor and walked away from me.
I had only taken three more breaths before Nicolas returned. He didn’t resume his previous position. Instead, he sat himself behind me. I jumped as he looped a thick piece of fabric over my eyes. A tie, maybe? He secured it behind my head with a quick knot, blindfolding me.
What the…?
“Keep breathing,” he said.
I startled again as he covered my ears with his heavy, over-ear headphones. The world was muted—even without music playing, they muffled the sound from the already-quiet room.
Nicolas brought his lips close to my neck. “Can you still hear me?”
I nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Lie down.”
He put one hand on my shoulder, tugging me gently and using his other hand to lower me to the ground. I let myself sink against the cool wood.
Nicolas was still close, lying down at my side. “All right, Fiona,” he said, and I could barely hear the deep rumble of his drawl through the seal of the headphones. “Find that thread.”
But I didn’t know how. I peered into the bright, churning core of my magic and found there was nothing to grasp at. If there had been, I would have already tried that, instead of plowing into it.
“Feel it,” Nicolas said.
I let the core fade in my mind, dulling it, letting only the brightest of sparks and rivulets stand out to me. Instead of bright white and lilac, I dampened it to a soft plum. I circled it in my mind, exploring the edges. Just when I was about to give up, I felt it.
Something bounced.
I lunged for it, and my grip connected with what felt like slippery lightning, writhing in my grasp.
Easy there, I told it, as though I was gentling a horse. It calmed, but it still thrummed strongly against me.
I pulled on it, and it did that thing again—that bounce—but it didn’t budge. I tried harder.
“Stop,” Nicolas said.
I jumped, almost losing the thread; I had forgotten he was there.
“It’s pulling away because it thinks you’re attacking it,” Nicolas said. “Work with it, not against it.”
I took another deep breath, calming my frustration. It wouldn’t work if I scared my magic.
Tentatively, I slid myself along it, instead of pulling it toward me. Something tense within me uncoiled—this felt comfortable. I must be doing something right. I slid faster. I wasn’t sure if I was getting anywhere, but it seemed a lot like a current was carrying me along.
“Slowly,” Nicolas warned. “You’ll come to a barrier, a door. Same thing as before—you must work with it, not against it. Remember, this place is yours; it is you. It’s not something you need to dominate or tame. It is already your essence. Empathy will get you further than hostility.”
How was I supposed to get through a door? Was I supposed to break it down?
“Do not do that,” Nicolas said. “You don’t need to break it down. It’s not meant to keep you out. It’s unlocked to you.”
I felt beyond stupid right now, needing basic instruction about my own magic.
“Stop,” Nicolas said. “I told you, this is a natural step for all commanders. Don’t let uncertainty ruin this.” He laid his hands on my shoulders comfortingly. “You are doing excellently. Get through the door. Get through the maze. That’s all.”
It took longer than I expected to hit the door. The rushing river o
f my thread carried me on and on until it calmed down and evened out into a vast delta of magic. A spongy barrier met me here, but it didn’t stop me. In fact, as I stroked it, it parted bit by bit, allowing me to push through to the other side.
Once there, I paused. The magic field I was moored in seemed endless, fanning out around me, with no way to tell what direction I was supposed to go next. The thread I’d been grasping was now a hundred threads, a thousand, each one thrumming and pulsing.
They writhed in my hand like the tails of annoyed cats, and I had no idea what to do now.
My maze. This was the part of my sanctum that was a puzzle.
But it felt impossible. Nicolas said it would eventually feel natural, but as helplessness crowded the pit of my stomach and my throat, I couldn’t imagine how that would ever happen. Would I have to make my way down this path every time?
“No, lamb,” Nicolas said. “Once you do it the first time, you’ll know instinctively how to do it, and it will happen in an instant. Remember how I could bring you in and out of my own sanctum at will? You are almost there.”
I took another breath and studied the writhing threads. There wasn’t a way to easily get through this. I would need to choose the right ones to follow as they spread out. A wrong turn would lead me nowhere, but a right turn… a right turn would lead me to myself.
So find yourself.
Ha. If only it were that easy.
I ran mental fingers across the threads like I was strumming a guitar, feeling the contours of my magic, hesitating because each one felt like a risk.
“Nothing about you is a risk,” Nicolas said. “Trust yourself. Go.”
Nicolas’s slight push moved me to action. Without thinking too hard, I grabbed at the thread that felt the most comfortable and let myself glide along it. When it branched, I let myself relax and pick the next thread that felt right. Calm washed over me as I made decision after decision, allowing myself to venture further into the magic, one path at a time.
Eventually, I tumbled off the end of a thread and into a bright, wide-open space. I blinked, squinting and attempting to clear my eyes.
I had made it to my sanctum.
I spun in a circle. I stood in a field of violets, their bluish-purple blossoms covering the ground, their delicate petals swaying in a gentle breeze. In one direction, stretching toward distant mountains, rows of corn rustled. In the other direction, some distance away, a large red barn loomed above a grove of apple trees.
“Nicolas?” I whispered. Silence met my words, and they died quickly in the vast expanse.
I took a deep breath and trudged toward the barn. This place was mine. It didn’t frighten me; it fascinated me. The air smelled sweet, suffused with rain and the earthy smell of dirt and wheat. It felt like fall in here, with coolness in the air and dry, hard ground that crunched under my feet.
Like frost was just around the corner.
The barn was the only building as far as I could tell.
Nicolas’s sanctum in Water hadn’t contained any structures, but both Lightning’s sanctum and my sanctum contained man-made objects. Or whatever “man-made” meant in this context—obviously no human had built this barn that now lived inside my magic.
I circled it once, studying the perfect, unblemished red paint and white trim around the doors and high windows.
With effort, I unlatched the door and pulled it open, swinging it wide so the light could penetrate the shadowy interior.
When my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw that the barn was empty save for one thing: a bright red torii gate in the center of the dusty room, standing stately.
I tilted my head. Why would there be a torii gate here? Torii gates marked the entrances of Shinto shrines, a transition into a sacred space. I’d never seen one indoors like this, standing among nothing.
I’d lived in Japan for barely a year. Torii gates didn’t have special significance to me. So why had my magic wanted this here?
I touched the two solid wooden logs that made up the supports of the gate. They hummed with magic. I couldn’t reach the crossbar at the top that formed the arch. Hesitantly, I put my hand through the doorway of the arch and drew back as my fingers met rushing air.
I looked around myself, but the barn was still and quiet. There was no wind in here, no disturbance at all.
I stuck my hand back through the arch, reaching my whole arm in this time. More cool, rushing air on the other side, even though all I could see was my limb hanging in the still air in front of me.
I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? I thought, taking a step closer to the arch.
I wanted to see what was on the other side.
It was all my sanctum, right? It was all part of me. I doubted I’d find any true surprises. I loosened my grip on my magic, letting it play around me, and found it drawn to the arch.
Well, that can’t be bad, right? My magic had good instincts. It wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped through.
Chapter 9
Nothing horrible happened when I had reached the other side of the gate. After a moment, I opened my eyes to the bright sky and the rustling of grass. Before me, a row of red flags led down a path and disappeared out of sight. Bells of remembrance clanged within me. I spun around.
Just behind me, as though I’d stepped out of it, a towering red torii gate loomed above me. It framed the mountains behind it.
What the hell? This looked like Lightning Clan’s sanctum. I’d discovered this exact torii gate when I’d gone inside and explored.
But as far as I knew, sanctums weren’t connected, either to each other or to the originating clan’s sanctum. They were supposed to be independent entities. Magic adhered to certain laws, and one of those was Prior’s Law: once activated, magic flowed from source to destination without exception. That was the original law, anyway. Exceptions had been proven over time—mostly transference, which had redefined several magical laws. But the idea of Prior’s Law was that magic flowed downstream, so to speak—a clan’s sanctum created a magician, or created a commander with their own sanctum, then that magician used magic on other things. Magicians couldn’t give their magic back to the sanctum, just as they also couldn’t take magic back from a shield or ward or other spell.
So even if there were deep connections—doors—hidden among magic and sanctums, I shouldn’t have been able to open one. I shouldn’t have been able to walk from my sanctum into the clan’s sanctum.
But that’s exactly what seemed to have happened.
I reached my magic out, letting it wander, feeling the contours of what it was telling me. Yes—this was definitely Lightning’s sanctum. Everything felt exactly right. The rolling storms over the mountains called to me. The ocean in the distance sang its rhythmic song. I had done something impossible.
But, hell, creating this sanctum had been defying the impossible. Who was to say this was any stranger?
As I hesitated, wondering if I should head back through the gateway and tell Nicolas what had happened, movement caught my eye.
Daniel walked up the path toward me, his hands in his pockets, his head bobbing slightly from side to side. He smiled widely when he caught sight of me. I waved.
You’re not supposed to talk to him, I reminded myself.
But what was I supposed to do? Flee? That would be weirder.
“Hey,” he called.
I smiled. “Do you just appear wherever I am?”
He stopped a few feet away. “Messing with the sanctum’s magic wakes me up, so I’m… drawn to that.”
“Makes sense,” I said, dropping to the ground and sitting cross-legged. I leaned back against one of the legs of the torii gate, careful to not pass through it, and Daniel joined me, sitting close enough that our shoulders were touching.
He feels so real, I thought, a pang of longing and sadness shooting through me.
“What’s up, Fi?” he asked, poking me, startling m
e out of my troubled musings. “What brings you here?”
“Just learning more about our magic before the conclave.”
He tilted his head toward me, his eyes narrowed. “Conclave?”
“Yeah, the other clans finally want to meet,” I said. “Nicolas and Ryan and I are going to talk with all the other pinnacle members.”
Daniel twitched his lips to the side and sighed through his nose. “Be careful.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have Nicolas and Ryan with me,” I said. “I honestly can’t wait to show everyone what we’re capable of. This magic is the coolest.”
Daniel smiled faintly. “Yeah. I hope everyone likes it. I tried my best.”
“You didn’t try. You succeeded.” Succeeded in everything but staying alive.
“You’re nervous, huh?” Daniel picked at the grass, casting me a sideways glance.
“Of course. How long have you known me?”
He laughed. “Everyone should be afraid of you, not the other way around.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “People are likely to be angry. The Flame pinnacle members will probably have some harsh words for me. We’re bound to get a lecture from Sky. And Nicolas says Stephan will be there, so I have no idea what’s going to happen with him.”
Dan nodded. “Yeah, it’s never good when they meet. Nicolas needs to learn to chill around Stephan.”
“I’m pretty sure Stephan knows he rattles Nicolas and does it intentionally.”
“It’s weird that Nicolas can be cool about everything except Stephan.”
I sighed. “I don’t think it’s easy for him to ignore what Stephan did to him. I just have to hope he can keep it together for the meeting.”
“Good luck,” Dan said. “Remember, Fi: confidence.” He nudged my shoulder again, forcing a reluctant smile out of me.
The two of us sat together in silence for a few more minutes before I said, “I should be getting back. I think Nicolas is waiting for me.”
Dan frowned, picking more aggressively at the blades of grass. “Yeah.”
