by Ella M. Lee
Nicolas shook his head apologetically. “If that sounds vague, it’s only because I can’t be more specific. We’ll need to rebuild the protective circle that we built for the clan’s creation, and then Ryan and I will find the connections binding Daniel to the sanctum magic and essentially encourage them to sever themselves. Simultaneously, we’ll need to create a magical working that can attach to him and draw him safely here. We’re… hatching Daniel out of the sanctum, like a chick from an egg. Shifting the balance so that his life force wants to be in the real world instead of in there.”
“What about his body?” Irina asked. “That’s missing.”
“Not missing, exactly,” Nicolas corrected. “In a normal case of intense magical inversion, the magic could easily destroy matter. But in a case where the inversion is seeking to bind to life, it doesn’t destroy, it preserves. The mass that makes up Daniel’s body is somewhere, and it’s a matter of putting the puzzle together and pulling it out. That’s part of building the net. We need to bring a body back, too.”
“You seem very sure of this,” Chandra said.
“The research supports my theories. I’ve checked it a dozen times over.”
“How many times were you sure about previous experiments, and then they went wrong?” The words were out of my mouth before I thought about them, and I drew back at the withering glare I received from Nicolas. I hadn’t meant to needle him. I’d been honestly curious, but my annoyance had crept into my tone, making it sound accusatory.
“We don’t have another choice,” Nicolas said. “We need to sever Daniel’s connection to the sanctum. It’s that, or we lose Lightning—and heaven knows what repercussions that would have for any of us or the greater magical world.”
I looked away, hurt again by that implication—that we still might need to sacrifice Daniel all over again to preserve ourselves.
Ryan cleared his throat. “When should we execute on this plan?”
“As soon as possible,” Nicolas said. “The instabilities are getting worse. As soon as we can get the circle in place and understand the connection points, we should go ahead.”
No one seemed to have anything to say, either positive or negative. The array of wary and tense faces around the room told me that none of us were happy with any part of this: using Smoke’s research, acting on Nicolas’s theories without the ability to test, or possibly losing our one chance at rescuing Daniel.
Into the awkward silence of the room, Nicolas dismissed us, citing the priorities of our tasks and the need for urgency.
“Fiona, stay for a moment, please,” he said as I collected my notebook and pen.
My heart leapt, sending a flash of dizziness through me. I sank back into my seat eagerly, my eyes fixed on Nicolas. He took the chair across from me and steepled his hands in front of himself.
He took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you to sit this endeavor out.”
“What?” I squinted at him. The words didn’t even really register, sliding over me, gliding off me as though they were nothing at all. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we don’t require your assistance for Daniel’s rescue mission,” Nicolas said. “I think it’s better if you stay away. You aggravate the sanctum when you’re emotional, and frankly, you aggravate me.”
I opened my mouth, shocked, but no words left my closed throat. Nicolas and I stared at one another for several seconds.
“The hell I’m letting you do this without me,” I growled. “I’m the only person who can actually handle our magic—soothe it or agitate it. What if you need that?”
“I’ll be fine,” Nicolas said. “Teng can make a circle strong enough to keep everything in check. The others can hold it.”
“You can’t keep me out of this,” I said, and the words came out whinier than I had intended. “This is my clan, too. He’s my best friend.”
“I know,” Nicolas said. “And that’s exactly why I’m asking it of you. You’re too close to Daniel, to the clan, to me. Take a step back. A good commander knows when to let her team take charge.”
He said the words in a flat, neutral tone, but somehow they still sounded like an admonishment. I swallowed the bile that threatened to creep up my throat.
“As if you aren’t too close to Daniel?” I bit out.
“We both know that I can look at this objectively,” he said. “You cannot.”
I looked down at the cursed mark on my wrist. “You are punishing me for what I did.”
“I’m not,” Nicolas said. “I would have asked this of you no matter what.”
I looked into his eyes, trying desperately to find a lie or a hedge or any deceit at all. I couldn’t—although that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
“Do you think I’d jeopardize our chances simply to punish you?” he asked. His raised brow and lifted chin betrayed how offended he was. “Mon Dieu.”
I couldn’t respond.
Because… yes. Right now, I rather thought he would tank this just to hurt me. His eyes narrowed, but I barely cared. Some sort of switch flipped in me, and suddenly, I didn’t care about anything anymore.
“Good luck,” I muttered and forced myself out of the room before my emotions could catch up to the craziness that had just happened.
Nicolas didn’t want us visiting Daniel in the sanctum while he finalized his designs, but I didn’t give a fuck. If Nicolas was going to keep me out of the execution of his plan, this could be my last chance to see Dan before something terrible happened.
When I entered the sanctum, calm waves and a sunny sky met me. Clouds and rain still hung over the distant mountains, but right where I was on my familiar shore, it felt like paradise.
No sign of any trouble or disturbances for once.
I sat heavily in the sand, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. Part of me, the sad, lonely, desperate part, wished I could stay here forever. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This place was beautiful. I’d always dreamt of living somewhere like this, near the ocean, in nature.
It wasn’t so bad that Dan had ended up here. Everything at home felt like hell. But maybe that was just me. The aching anxiety in my chest uncoiled the tiniest bit during my little escapes here.
And when I wasn’t near Nicolas, I could pretend for just a few minutes that everything between us was okay. That I’d be heading home that night to sleep in his arms. That I’d wake up to his smile.
Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d kissed me. I couldn’t remember our last embrace. Why would I have cataloged them? They weren’t special. Nothing was the last time until suddenly it was.
I’d experienced that unfortunate circumstance an awful lot in my life.
“Fi! Hey! What’s up?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Daniel, who jogged to my side and slid into a seated position in the sand.
“Oh, same old stuff,” I said.
He tilted his head at me. “Really? Because you look exhausted and stressed.”
“Gee, thanks, Commander Darling,” I said.
He shrugged. “I want to make sure you are okay.”
“I’m not,” I said with a sigh.
“Is it Nicolas?” he asked, his expression darkening, his eyes reflecting the light from the water with a dangerous glint.
“It hasn’t been a great couple of weeks,” I admitted. “For me, or for us.”
Daniel shook his head. “He’ll calm down.”
“I don’t think he will,” I said. “It’s starting to look less and less likely.”
“How is, uh, everything else going?” he asked, reaching out to take my hand.
“Good,” I said. “I’ll let Nicolas explain to you, but I think he has increasingly good news about your situation.”
Daniel’s expression cleared, a smile breaking through onto his fox-like face. “That would be very cool.”
I smiled. “What’s the first thing you want to do if you get out of here, Dan?”
H
e rolled onto his back, brushing his hair back and staring up into the sky. “I think I want to cook a really big meal, for all of us. A celebration.”
I bit my lip to keep my jaw from trembling. That was such a Daniel response, to want to spend time with loved ones, to want to do something for others.
“What would you cook?” I asked, idly drawing curves and lines in the sand.
“Oh, anything,” Dan said. “Gyudon, maybe. Soy sauce noodle. Salt-and-pepper shrimp. Beef brisket. Spicy curry.” He poked my shoulder, offering me a brilliant smile. “Pineapple buns, for my favorite lieutenant.”
My heart ached. Please, please, if there’s anyone out there listening at all, please let Daniel get out of this. I don’t care what happens to me, just let him have a life.
“That sounds great,” I choked out. “I’m looking forward to it already.”
And all I could do now was trust in Nicolas.
Nicolas, whose trust I had broken, and who had very recently broken mine.
Chapter 21
I stayed away from the clan house for most of the next day while Nicolas and Teng and the others finished the arrangements for what was now called the “rescue mission.”
I spent time in Osaka, walking around, revisiting sights I’d seen before with Daniel, whittling away time in cafés, shopping for things I absolutely didn’t need.
Every action felt hollow. Even my magic, which usually kept me company in the best ways, hung around me awkwardly and claustrophobically.
Right before heading home, I stopped at the market and bought some beef, pork, and fresh vegetables. I picked all of Dan’s favorites, praying that this simple gesture of hope would somehow improve Nicolas’s odds of success.
When I got back to the clan house around dinnertime, no one was around. I poked my head into various rooms, but the soubou was quiet and empty. I stepped outside into the garden and looked toward the temple.
It was lit up like a Christmas tree in my vision, all the wards and shields activated.
Jealousy stabbed me, digging deep into my heart and then dragging down to my stomach, opening me up to all the frustration and shame and mild hatred I felt right now.
My entire family was in there without me, and it took no time at all for the pathetic part of me to remind myself that they’d all known each other for much longer than they’d known me.
What did they need me for?
Hell, what did Nicolas even need me for?
Nothing, it seemed. He’d been carrying on fine without me.
Maybe that would be best. The thought lingered at the back of my mind. If Nicolas’s plan succeeded and we got Dan back, I’d have to give up magic. At least for a little while. At least while I cleared up the binding, so that I didn’t have to fulfill Stephan’s bargain.
But what if I left? For real?
If Nicolas isn’t going to talk to me… how can I honestly stay here and handle that? Maybe I shouldn’t put myself through that. Maybe I shouldn’t put him through that.
The idea triggered more relief in me than I wanted to admit. It almost sounded… right.
I poured myself a glass of wine and sat on the long wooden porch, staring at the temple. My heart wouldn’t stop fluttering, alternately going still and quiet before trying to beat itself out of my chest like a trapped bird.
This was it. If all went according to plan, Daniel would be back, or he would be gone.
He’ll be back, I told myself, but the idea was weak and uncertain.
I watched the temple for ten or fifteen minutes more before noticing it—a pressure in the air. A charged feeling in my magic, a certain agitation of, well, everything.
I scratched an itch, but that didn’t help—I was itchy all over. I stood and stretched my legs, but nothing changed.
Slowly, dread grew in the pit of my stomach, replacing my anxiety with urgent alarm bells.
Something was wrong.
I set the wineglass down on the wooden floor and sprinted to the front door, throwing on my shoes and sweatshirt, my eyes fixed on the distant building. It was pulsing in my vision. Was the shield failing? Was something else going awry?
I walked toward it, my heart pounding. The wooden doors were open to the elements, but shields were in place on all four sides of the building. They were Nicolas’s and Teng’s shields, impenetrable.
I peered inside, trying to see through the bright light, and immediately stumbled back, my stomach dropping. The inside of the temple reminded me too much of when we’d created the clan—bright snowy magic, most of the magicians managing the strong and extensive shielding, Nicolas in the center of the action.
Right now, he paced in front of what looked like a giant grid of woven magic, like a loom with many, many colored threads shimmering in it. He wasn’t actively manipulating it or using magic, so I knocked on the shield.
His head snapped up, and his blazing eyes found mine.
Let me in, I thought.
He shook his head.
Nicolas, let me the fuck in. Something’s wrong.
He walked to the shield, coming face-to-face with me, inches away. Normally I’d flinch at his dark expression, but my brain was in fight mode, scared by the unrest in the sanctum and aching to protect it.
“I can help,” I said.
“Fiona, no,” Nicolas said, his voice muted slightly by the shield.
“Did you forget that I don’t need anything in this room”—I waved at the temple behind him—“to access our sanctum? I have my own way in. So you can let me through, and I can help you figure out what’s wrong, or I’ll take the back door. What are you going to do? Work your magic with me in there, too? Kill me?”
He winced. “Of course not.” He reached through the shield, grabbed my arm, and pulled me through, but he didn’t look happy about it.
“Don’t touch the weave,” he said as I followed him to the center of the room, through the many protective circles.
He let go of me as soon as he could. Ryan and Teng watched us from near the wall, both steadily drawing and redrawing the wards in order to keep them strong. The others sat, unable to move, keeping their circle intact.
“Why shouldn’t I touch it?” I asked, studying the threads. It felt strange, like some sort of foreign magic I’d never seen before. Just looking at it gripped my heart uncomfortably and made the hair on my neck stand up.
“Because I think I’ve woven Daniel’s life force into it, although I can’t be sure.”
“Have you gone in to check?” I asked.
His eyes widened. “I can’t go in there. It’s unstable as all hell, with me pulling on threads every which way.”
“Well, someone has to go in and see what’s going on,” I said.
“No.” His tone was like iron.
I looked between the sanctum and his strange woven net.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” he asked.
“I suppose not,” I said, stepping around the weave to get closer to the sanctum.
“Fiona!” Nicolas shouted, and even his harsh admonishment didn’t stop me in my tracks like it normally would.
I’d always had an incredible instinct for magic. It had helped me navigate Water magic quickly, it had allowed me to rescue Nicolas from his own sanctum, and it had aided me in creating and nurturing Lightning.
There was a single golden thread connecting the sanctum to the center of Nicolas’s woven tapestry. It sang to me, and I reached my fingers out to it. Gently, I brushed it, and Nicolas bristled, shivering.
“You’ll need to keep whatever this thing is stable while I’m in there,” I said. “Who knows what will happen if you don’t. Or I guess you could find out if you really want.”
A flicker of worry and concern creased Nicolas’s brow—the most emotion I’d seen from him in days.
Without giving myself a chance to back out, I closed the couple of feet between us, took his chin firmly in my hand, and kissed him. He tensed, but his body reacted automatically. His l
ips molded to mine for a brief moment, his hand landing on my waist and dragging me a millimeter closer.
I pulled away after only a second or two, and the brief spark of affection in his eyes faded just as quickly.
“Don’t let me die,” I said as cheerfully as I could, sitting down next to the sanctum before I could allow my emotions to distract me.
My eyes closed at the same time my palms hit the surface of the sanctum, and I was in.
I expected a storm in the sanctum, but there was nothing of the sort.
Stillness permeated the air.
Dead silence.
Eeriness such as I’d never experienced before.
Not even the ocean moved.
When Dan and I had created Lightning, this place had felt charged with energy, ready to bloom into life. Now it felt stretched, strained, tense, like it was being pulled apart at the seams.
I spun around, getting my bearings. I had been set down farther along the beach than usual, farther from the grassy meadow that stretched toward the mountains and closer to the point where the shore curved and blocked my view of what was beyond.
But I saw why immediately: Daniel was here. I’d been drawn to him. He lay on the sand, stretched out, unconscious. His body glowed and shimmered, the echo of woven threads bristling around him.
Nicolas had managed something, I just didn’t know what.
I took a few steps closer, my unease growing. I couldn’t place the feeling exactly, but I got that sense of wrongness again, lodging itself in my veins.
“Dan?” I said, even though I knew it was unlikely he could hear me. He didn’t stir.
I knelt next to him. Don’t touch the weave, Nicolas had just said to me, but I didn’t know if that applied here.
Well, time to use those stunning instincts of mine, I guess.
I knelt next to him in the sand and studied his limp body. It was covered in threads, magic of all colors, like he was encased in loosely woven fabric.
