by K. A. Linde
Dean stepped forward first. “I will do it.”
Then, Avoca with a nod.
And Gwynora and Quidera simultaneously.
To everyone’s surprise, the Commander stepped forward first. “I gave you my name. I will give you this.”
With a halting step, Ceis’f entered their circle. “If it helps us defeat Malysa, I will link with you.”
Cyrene’s eyes widened in surprise. It was one thing for Ceis’f to join her army and fight for her. Another entirely for him to link with her magic.
“I can ask Jenstad,” Quidera offered. “He is strong and controlled with his energy.”
“Thank you,” Cyrene said.
One more.
The Commander sighed. “Haeven will not want to do it, but if I order her…”
“No,” Cyrene said. “You can ask her. But, if she does not wish to, then I will not make her. This must be voluntary. We must be a team.”
“Then…I will ask,” he said reluctantly.
“If Haeven won’t do it, then I can ask one of the Network members, Krauss. He has improved the quickest,” Gwynora offered.
“Thank you.” She tilted her head toward Gwynora. “Malysa thinks that she has already won. That our destruction is assured. Let’s prove her wrong.”
52
The Bloodline
At high noon, Cyrene stood in the clearing away from camp.
She hated that they had sent soldiers out to die while she was standing here. She wanted to use her magic for good—to bust through that line, take down Kael, and set this all to right. But she knew that this was just as helpful as the raging battle. This might change everything.
If she could do it.
Her circle slowly came together. Dean to her right, then Quidera, Jenstad—who had eagerly accepted the invitation—Gwynora, the Commander, Ceis’f, Avoca, and finally, Sarielle. They were just missing one link in the circle. The tenth member who would close off the connection.
She looked to Tristen.
“She said she would come,” he said gruffly. He was clearly irritated that she wasn’t on time.
Cyrene glanced up at the sun, the bright heat and light that it put out. She prayed that Haeven got here on time. The last thing she wanted was to have to wait another day.
Then a silver-headed figure appeared. Her gaze cast around the circle from Cyrene to the dragon to her Commander. Then, she nodded. “My apologies for being late.”
“Join us,” Cyrene said, gesturing to her empty place. “As long as you are willing.”
Haeven moved to the empty spot. “I want this ended as much as the next person.”
Cyrene smiled at her. Haeven blazed with power. Probably the most in the circle after Cyrene. Or at least, on par with Dean. It would be a huge advantage to have her here. And Cyrene was glad that Haeven had agreed to it despite her past.
“When I was with Malysa, she boasted that we were never going to win because we didn’t have enough people,” Cyrene began. “That she could destroy all magic once and for all. That she’d started with the fall of magic, and now, this was her final stand. And it gave me an idea. There are trace amounts of magic in so many people that never have access to it. There’s magic in bloodlines that, for some reason, at seventeen, don’t come into their powers. And I wondered, if Malysa can create something new, then why can’t I?
“What we’re about to do has never been attempted. But, together, we can prove that there’s more magic in Emporia than Malysa could ever realize,” Cyrene told them. She took Dean’s hand and pressed her other hand against Sarielle’s side. “Please join hands.”
One by one, her friends reached out for the other. She had only ever linked with this many people once before in Fen when she helped the Ancient Ones erect the bubble around the town. The one that Malysa had destroyed before burning the village to ash.
This would be different. More complex. But she was a different person now than she had been then. And she knew she could do this.
“Access your magic and then let down your defenses enough to link up with your neighbors.”
Cyrene felt the light touch of Sarielle and then the brush from Dean. They were the easiest since she linked with them most regularly. Then Avoca, her other bound sister. But it went further, Avoca to Ceis’f. Dean to Quidera, who linked easily with Jenstad. The Commander reaching out for Jenstad. It was Haeven who hesitated the longest. Cyrene could tell that she had never brought her defenses down enough to do anything like this.
“It’s okay,” Cyrene assured her. “You can trust me.”
Haeven met her eyes. She looked hard and flat and unreadable. A queen in her own right in that moment. Then, she slowly, finally released. And they all tapped into together.
Cyrene breathed a sigh at the power between them. Then she removed her hold on the diamond, which once again hung at her throat. Suddenly, they were all aglow. Each of them with a beautiful gold hue all around their body. The shine of the Doma.
“Whatever you do, don’t release your link to each other. I don’t know how long this will take, but if you break apart, …it will all be for naught.”
Cyrene waited until she had assent from everyone, and then she closed her eyes and brought forth her spirit magic. Despite the combined power of her circle, she and Sarielle were the only ones who had access to spirit. But even so, she felt as if she were floating on a cloud of pure, blissful magic.
Be careful, soul sister. You have angered the goddess of spirit. I do not believe that she will allow you access to the plane lightly.
“I know,” she told her. “But I will not allow her access to my plane lightly either.”
Then Cyrene found the liquid-like veil between the two dimensions. She put her hand through it and then stepped into nothingness. In an instant, she stood in a red gown on the coast in a small beach cottage. A baby slept in the room, and a sea breeze blew in through the open door.
“Hello, Anne,” she said softly to Serafina’s daughter. “Thank Creator you survived or else I would never have been born.” She straightened and then took a deep breath. “Sera?”
A moment passed and then another. She had worried that perhaps she wouldn’t be able to speak to Serafina again after she passed on to the other Dominas. It was a calculated risk that she might not be here. Cyrene had a backup plan, but also a part of her had just wanted to see Serafina one more time.
“Are you still here, Serafina?” Cyrene tried again.
Nothing happened.
She sighed and glanced down at the baby one more time.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Cyrene jumped and whirled around. “Serafina!” She threw her arms around Sera, and she just laughed.
“I was wondering if you’d ever return.”
“I didn’t know if you could still come.”
“Not regularly like before,” Serafina admitted. “It’s more difficult for me to cross the divide, but I saw that you have great need.”
“I do. The diamond,” she said, her fingers reflexively going to it, “it strengthens me. It keeps me from being subject to my blood magic. It allows me to see the strengths of others. But I think it can do more. I think I can do more. But I can’t do it alone.”
Serafina smiled. “You’ve never been alone.”
“I’ve always felt that you are with me.”
“We are. All of us,” she said. “The diamond is full of the knowledge of all past Dominas, Cyrene. We have been helping you the whole time.”
Cyrene’s jaw dropped. She remembered every time that she had touched the diamond and wished that she had a way to fix her problem. How she had come up with new powers that she had never known existed. It all made sense now.
This was the power of the Domina. The knowledge that stretched back generations. Something Malysa would literally kill to access.
“Why did you not tell me?”
Sera laughed. “I would have liked to, but everyone must discover the power they
can possess on their own. A Domina is not called until the other one dies. But we help how we can.”
Cyrene closed her eyes and considered Serafina’s words. “And how much help can you provide now?”
“What would you like?”
“The combined might of all Dominas,” Cyrene said. “To bring back magic to Emporia. To fix what Malysa destroyed all those years ago.”
Serafina snapped her fingers, and suddenly, they were in the great chamber of the Dominas. The giant domed room where the Doma court had once been held. The very place Cyrene had received the Domina diamond to begin with.
One by one, the room filled, as it had that day, until all the chairs were full, and Cyrene was looking up at Domina Selma.
“What is it that you wish to do, child?” Selma asked.
Cyrene curtsied. “Domina Selma, there are bloodlines that run from you and your mother. Children of the Dawn who have yet to be lit from within. They cannot access their powers. The small amounts left weren’t enough to let them become Doma. This is Malysa’s doing. She destroyed so many of our kind that, even with Doma blood in their veins, they believe themselves to be just human.”
“Yes, that is true,” Selma said. “And what do you want to do about that?”
“Awaken the bloodline.”
“Let it be so,” Selma said.
And then Cyrene felt a link open up with the oldest Domina and then the next and the next and the next until it was nearly impossible to hold them all. Until Cyrene was brimming so completely with the magic of her people that she thought she might explode into a thousand pieces like a dying sun. Finally, she reached Serafina, the last Domina to wear the white.
The link was complete, and the power settled into her skin.
She breathed it in, gently at first and then deeper. This was ultimate power.
Was this how it felt to be a pure-blooded Doma?
Was this what it was like to be a god?
If she’d had anything but good intentions, this would have shattered her. Nothing evil could ever possess this much light.
Then she closed her eyes and held her arms out wide. She reached out with her mind across the spiritual plane. Not worried for an instant that Malysa would be able to touch her here. She had full control of the plane. Full control of her immense power.
She searched them out. Each and every person who had ever had magic in their bloodline. Anyone who would birth Doma children. Anyone who had come from those fallen lines and hidden who they were.
As far as Bienco and as close as this very camp.
She touched them all. Gathered them up like sheep in her flock. Herded them into her power.
Hundreds.
No, thousands.
Tens of thousands.
So many.
So very, very many.
And then, when she had every soul within her grasp, she added her light.
The light of the Children of the Dawn.
The light of the Heir of Light.
The light of the Domina.
And began an awakening.
53
The Awakening
Reeve thrust his sword at the next assailant and the next. He couldn’t think about the fact that he might know some of these guards. These might have been men that he trained with in the castle. High Order men giving orders that he had joked with once. He couldn’t think about any of it.
He just had to keep fighting.
And it was easier with Aubron at his side.
Aubron might be smaller than him, but he was just as fierce with a sword. Just as vicious. Maybe more so.
He hadn’t been coddled to believe that Byern was a utopia. He hadn’t been indoctrinated into the system. He had never even wanted to become a High Order. He had only done it to find his brother.
Now, they stood side by side, covered in cuts and bruises and blood. Trying to break down the line and get to those with the blood magic. Stop before their darkness festered and spread.
He did it for Cyrene.
For those who had been killed in Fen.
For this new world order.
Then, he felt something touch him. Inside of him.
It was as if he had just ignited a flame within his chest.
His strength redoubled.
His exhaustion began to dissipate.
“Reeve,” Aubron gasped in awe.
And suddenly, he was glowing.
Kirby stared down at his baking materials—flour, salt, yeast. He had trekked across the Tygh with these in his pack, preparing meals for the water seekers as they all went farther and farther from Aleut to look for the resource.
When the Domina had taken hundreds of Tyghan people out of the desert, hardly any water seekers had been left behind. The old had come out of retirement and gone looking once more.
Still, there wasn’t enough water.
Not in the entire desert.
Not even enough for his specialty—sand bread.
He hadn’t expected them to find it right away. Carrying the supplies on the trek was a risk that he had thought would prove fruitful. But a week later, and they had come no closer to water. They needed to turn around and return to the city. But no one wanted to go back empty-handed.
He packed up his supplies with another sigh and stared off toward Aleut.
Then, he felt something.
Something…he had never felt before.
Water.
There was water nearby.
Water…all around him.
He held his hand out, and water pooled into his palm.
He laughed. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
“A gift! A gift from the gods!” he cheered.
And suddenly, he was glowing.
Brigette roared at her advisor, “Joffrey, if you say one more word!”
He balked at her anger but was smart enough not to continue.
“Cyrene is out there, risking her life, whether she is on the battlefield or not. I don’t care that you don’t like her. I don’t care that I don’t like her. She is doing her part. And I don’t know if her plan is going to work, but she’s trying. What you need to focus on is our soldiers.”
He nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Majesty. Yes, that was right. She was the queen of Eleysia. No matter that she had left a Queen’s War behind. That there had been a vote of no confidence. When she won this war, she would go home a hero. And that vote of no confidence would disappear as far as she was concerned.
The war tent flapped open. She whirled around, hoping to find that Cyrene had completed her mission already.
But instead, Darmian limped within. A huge gash ran down his leg.
“Creator!” she cried, dashing for him. “Darmian. Darmian, are you all right?”
“Majesty.”
The truth in his answer was when he let her help support him to a nearby chair.
“Get a healer,” she shrieked at Joffrey.
Joffrey hustled out of the tent, leaving them alone. The rest of the council was otherwise engaged in the fighting or Cyrene’s business.
Brigette risked everything and touched Darmian’s cheek. She tilted his head up to look at her. His blue eyes were clear, but he looked worse for wear.
“What can I do?” she gently asked him.
“We’re…making progress.”
“Darmian, for your leg.”
“It’ll be…fine.”
Brigette glanced down at it with fear in her eyes. Then she went to work. Her mother had never taught her these things. It wasn’t what a lady, a future queen, should know. But her nurse had shown her how to bandage as best she could.
She grabbed the water basin and poured clean water down the cut to clean it. He hissed but otherwise said nothing. She found a clean linen and tried to tear it into long strips but had no luck. With a grunt of frustration, she wrapped the entire thing around his leg, applied pressure, and then tightened it into place. It would hold the wound together and hopefully stop the blee
ding until the healer arrived.
“The healer will be here soon,” she assured him.
“Majesty…”
“Please, call me Brigette. We’ve known each other our whole lives. You’re…you’re the only person who sees me for who I am anymore,” Brigette whispered. “You’ve stayed at my side through it all.”
“And I’d do it again and again.”
The healer should have been here already.
And then she felt something within her. Something new.
A light inside her.
She pressed her hand harder against Darmian’s leg. She felt it change, and with shock, she watched as the skin knit back together.
“How?” she breathed.
“Because you’re special,” Darmian said, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze again. “You always have been.”
And suddenly, she was glowing.
Manasa glared at the asshole from across the bar. He grabbed her ass every time she walked by him. And, if he did it one more time, she was going to knock him out. Her daddy was the best fighter in all of Trinnenberg. All of Tiek as far as she was concerned. And, though her mother had frowned upon it, he’d shown her a thing or two.
“Stop looking at him like that, Manasa,” her boss snapped. “Just take them their drinks and be done with it.”
She wanted to quit. Throw the towel in her boss’s face and be done. But they really needed the money.
Her father wasn’t getting as many fights, and her brothers had been conscripted into the military. So they weren’t bringing in as much as when they’d been fighting. She’d begged her dad to let her get in the ring. But she knew he’d never say yes.
She grabbed the ales, slammed them down on her tray, and stomped toward the asshole customer. She said not a word as she dropped each ale onto the table.
And just as she almost made it away, the guy reached out and touched her again. “Hey baby, why not stay a little while?”
She whirled. Fury getting the better of her.
And then something else.
Something like light in her gut.
