by Linsey Hall
I’d caused it. I knew I had.
My heart twisted.
This was the past. Somehow, I was five thousand years in the past, back when I’d caused the first Great Burning. I was two people now, two consciousnesses inside one body. My present was hitching a ride with my past.
I needed to learn from it.
“What happened here?” the words were torn from my throat, soft and confused. Both “me”s spoke—past and present.
You happened here.
I looked down, spotting Puka. She was gray today, her fur a dark ashy graphite. Her black eyes looked into my soul, seeing what had to be little pieces of myself, shattered to nothing. Familiarity spiked, as if I’d known her forever.
“Puka? Are you part of the past as well?”
I’ve been with you always.
“So I really did this?” I knew it deep in my soul, but I needed to hear it confirmed.
You did.
I dropped to my knees, reached for her. She backed up slightly, her gaze wary. You are not you.
Her words made something surge to life inside me, a grasping, clawing feeling.
“The darkness,” I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “I feel it. Inside me.” I gripped a handful of the ash at my feet, and the darkness roared its satisfaction.
Power surged into me, from the ash up my arm and into my soul. I gasped, my back bowing as it filled me, making me feel invincible.
I surged to my feet, spinning in a circle and gazing out over the land. My heavy cloak swirled around me.
All of it is mine. The darkness spoke inside me, ravenous with hunger for the magic that dwelled within the ashes of the moor. The life force of everything that had once roamed these hills was now in the ash, waiting for me to take it.
“No.” The word was torn from my throat. “No.”
If I took all the magic that was left in the ashes, the moor would never grow again. It would truly die. Forever.
It’s made you its creature, Puka said. The darkness inside you is taking over.
“Why me?”
You are light. It is dark. Two halves of a whole. Puka backed up farther from me. But if you don’t fight it, it will consume you. She turned, looking over all of the moor. And all of this.
“Yes.” The word was steeped in satisfaction. All of this was mine. And I wanted it. “All mine.”
I could feel my past self’s thoughts being tainted by the darkness. I really did want all of it. I could feel the dark magic seeping through me, making me want to absorb all the magic from this place so that it could never grow again.
It would be a wasteland forever, but I would be power incarnate.
No! Puka lunged for me and bit my leg.
Pain shot through and I struck out, knocking her back. She growled low in her throat.
Horror grew inside me as I felt my past self begin to stand, determined to finish the job she had started.
No—it couldn’t be like this. I couldn’t do this.
My past self didn’t really want to. My current self certainly didn’t.
I didn’t have to be just an observer.
I fought the desire to suck all of the magic from the ashes that surrounded me. The darkness had made me burn it all, but I wouldn’t take this final step. The moor would grow again.
I just had to stop myself from taking the last of the magic.
But how? I felt like I was a hostage in my own body, riding along as it did something terrible.
Fight it. Puka spoke to me, not my past self.
I tried to stop myself from walking ten feet away and kneeling again, sinking my hands in the ashes to let the magic flow into my soul.
But I couldn’t.
“Stop!” I shrieked.
I wasn’t here to learn and observe.
No. I was here to change things. To stop something terrible from happening.
But the darkness was too strong, driving me onward. Fear and anger twisted inside me as I fought, but my past self was too strong. The darkness controlled her too well.
I forced my neck to bend so that I looked down at my right arm, praying that I’d see the light tattoo that marked me in the present. It was my only weapon against the darkness.
The tattoo wasn’t there.
Panic fluttered inside me. How could I fight the darkness that had hijacked me? My past self and my current self were both fighting for control of the body that walked across the moor, and she was so preoccupied with the darkness and her thievery that her attention couldn’t be swayed.
Or could it?
I gathered all the strength I had, all the determination, then met Puka’s gaze.
“Help,” I croaked. It was nearly impossible to command the body that had once been mine, but maybe Puka could give me strength.
Her eyes flashed, as if she recognized me. She hurried to my side and pressed herself against my leg. My past self nearly kicked her away, but I drew control from her presence, moving as fast as I could.
Quickly, I grabbed the dagger from a sheath at my side, then stabbed myself in the side. Pain flared, blood welled.
I fell to my knees.
12
Blood poured down my side as I knelt in the ashes of what was left of Dartmoor. The pain sharpened my mind, allowing my past self to break away from the darkness that controlled it.
She didn’t want to destroy the moor, but she needed my help. I needed my help.
I had to get the darkness out of me—had to purge it from my soul.
But how?
I could no longer tell where my actions began and my past self’s actions ended. We were the same now.
Determination roared inside me, along with grief and panic. The moor stretched endlessly around me, barren and burned. My soul felt empty and dead, but power sparked from the heavy silver brooch at my shoulder.
I reached for it, tearing the wool of my cloak. The dense fabric dropped to the ground behind me, and I gripped the brooch tight. Magic surged inside it and the twisted metal imprinted against my palm.
It’s the same amulet I found on the desk of the antiquarian’s study.
It was intensely valuable to me, though I had no idea how or why.
Ragged breaths tore through my lungs as I shoved the darkness into the brooch. I used my own power—what little light I had left—to force it from my soul and into the metal. I couldn’t put it back into the world, but I could put it into this object and bury it.
Sweat broke out on my brow and my muscles ached as I forced the dark magic into the metal. It fought me, thrashing inside my chest as it tried to cling to my soul.
Somehow, the magic in the brooch helped me. I grew weaker and weaker as I forced the magic out of myself, using all my light power to fight the darkness.
Puka pressed her side against me as I sagged, weakly supporting myself with one arm. My heartbeat slowed and my breathing grew thin as I forced the last of the darkness into the silver brooch.
As it left me, grief roared into its place. Without the darkness, there was just me. Me and the burned moor and all of the damage that I’d done. The lives I’d taken.
“No!” I screamed, the sound so loud and raw that Puka flinched. Pain like I’d never known filled me. Rage, too. Rage at the darkness that had found me. It had seeped into me as I’d lived my life here on the moor. I hadn’t done anything to invite it, but it had found me.
I shoved the cursed brooch at the ground, forcing it deep into the ash. The dirt devoured it, taking it into the earth. My past self prayed it would stay there forever, hidden.
I staggered to my feet, desperate to get as far away from the darkness as I could. I’d trapped it in the metal, but I didn’t want to die near it.
And I would die.
I’d given everything to banish the darkness, and there was nothing left.
Aching, exhausted, I stumbled across the moor, heading for the pile of granite that marked the center of the tor. Every step felt like a mile, and by the time I reach
ed the pillars of stone, I had nothing left in me.
I fell to my knees, then collapsed entirely. My limbs went numb, and it felt as if I were disintegrating. As if all of the atoms in my body were drifting away, becoming one with the moor.
My consciousness drifted away, rising high above the land so that I could look down on the body that I’d left behind. The crumpled figure at the base of the granite tower really was disappearing.
She looked just like me, and it was eerie to watch myself die and disappear. Soon, my body had faded away entirely, leaving two things behind. A twisted golden crown and a glowing stone where her heart had been.
The Soul Stone.
That was why we were one and the same. It had been my heart and all of my magic.
The crown and the stone sank into the earth, the glowing rock disappearing into the ashes. Puka, who had been watching, disappeared as well, her form drifting away with the mist.
Then there was nothing.
“Caera! Wake up. Caera!” Iain’s voice dragged me from the vision.
I gasped and blinked, my head so full that it felt like it was going to burst.
Iain held me cradled in his arms, his blue eyes dark with concern as they raced over my face. “Are you all right?”
For a moment, I could say nothing.
Was I all right?
I honestly had no idea.
“I died,” I said.
“No, you didn’t. You’re here with me.” He pulled me to him, hugging me tight.
I squeezed him, absorbing his strength, then pulled back. “No, I mean in the past. I saw so much, it was—”
The floor began to vibrate, the walls seeming to shake. Remnants of dark magic still pulsed within the room, surging toward me on waves of energy. I grabbed the broken brooch and shoved it in my jacket pocket, zipping it up.
I scrambled upright, pulling on Iain. “We need to get out of here. Something is happening.”
He surged to his feet, spinning around to look at the shelves surrounding us. “We must find the crown.”
Damn it, he was right. Everything that I’d seen in the vision had distracted me from our primary goal. I shoved aside all that I’d learned and joined Iain in his hunt.
The shelves were packed full of amazing objects. Many of them had tiny paper tags tied to them with strings, neat handwriting indicating where they had come from. There were incredible weapons from all over the world, and my fingers itched to take one.
But no, they’d been stolen once. They didn’t need to be stolen again.
But maybe I could send the FireSouls back here. They were experts at returning archaeological artifacts to their original sites. They’d know how to put this place to rights.
The floor vibrated even harder, the entire house beginning to shake. Shrieking sounded from the stairwell, along with a loud clattering. Iron against iron, armored plates clanking against each other.
There was no mistaking that sound.
“That horseman is riding up the stairs.” I could see him in my head so clearly, blades whirling fast.
The darkness knew what we were doing here, and it didn’t like it. The house was shaking so much that all of the protections were being ignited, and they would come right for us.
Frantic, I searched the shelves, finally spotting a golden crown. It was delicate, with tiny red gemstones that burned like fire.
“Got it.” I grabbed the crown.
The clattering of armor was growing louder.
“He’s almost here.” Iain surged toward one of the windows that had been shuttered against the light. “We can’t go back down that way.”
“The mist is out there.”
“I’ve got an idea.” He tore the shutters open, and sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating the room. It seemed to enrage the darkness, which shook the house harder. Objects crashed from the shelves, but I ignored them as I raced toward Iain.
The window overlooked the sea at the base of the cliffs. Sunlight gleamed on the waves, making them sparkle like diamonds. It was a clear day, and the ocean shone a deep, gorgeous blue. Beckoning.
But the deadly mist hovered between us and the water, staining the sky a slightly darker shade, as if there were a layer of smoke in the air.
“We won’t get past it,” I said. “Connor was clear that we couldn’t touch it.”
“We will if we swim.” His magic flared on the air, and he raised his hands toward the window, calling to the sea.
Behind me, the clattering up the stairs grew louder. I turned around, spotting ghosts surging into the room. The old men from the meeting room stared at us, jaws slack.
Then they charged.
I gripped the crown tightly in one hand and raised my other so that it faced the ghosts, calling on my light magic. “I’ll buy you time.”
“I don’t need much.” The scent of Iain’s magic surged, the sea feeling like it was right on the other side of the window.
My light burst from me, forming a forcefield between us and the ghosts. They tried to push past it, transparent faces twisted into grimaces. I strained, trying to keep control of the light magic. Every time, I got a bit better at it.
“Almost there,” Iain said.
Without letting up on my power, I looked back. The sea rose up outside of the window, a wide pillar of water reaching toward the glass. It was at least twenty feet in diameter, a crystal blue column that bent over until the water pressed right up against the window.
Wow.
“There can be no deadly mist where there is water,” Iain said. “Are you ready?”
“Ready.” I forced more of my light magic toward the ghosts, then spun around.
Iain charged the window, leaping through the glass and into the water. I followed, gripping the crown tightly as I leapt into the icy liquid. It surrounded me, cold and pure.
Everything moved so fast that I could barely process it. Instead of falling through the water to the ground, it sucked us back to the sea, Iain’s magic carrying us within the water itself. We fell over a hundred feet into the cold embrace of the ocean.
I splashed down into the ocean next to him, everything going dark. As I tumbled through the depths, I tightened my grip on the crown, determined not to lose it. Bubbles surged around us, and I tried to kick my way to the surface. Except I had no idea which way was up. My lungs burned as I fought my way toward air, not knowing where it was.
Iain grabbed my arm and pulled. He was an anchor in the darkness. My body cried for air as we swam.
He led us toward the surface, and I kicked alongside him, my head finally breaking through. I gasped, saltwater sharp on my tongue. I gripped the crown hard, the metal digging into my palm.
Through bleary eyes, I spotted the cliff rising tall overhead, looming in the bright sunlight. It had to be nearly a hundred feet tall, with the creepy mansion sitting right at the edge. The building now listed to the side, a great crack running up through the stone. Broken glass windows glittered in the sun, looking like mouths full of jagged teeth. The dark mist hovered around the building, but it was so far away that it couldn’t hurt us.
My heart thundered in my ears as the events played back in my head. “That was amazing.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised it worked.” Iain turned to me, his dark hair slicked back from his face and his eyes worried. “Are you all right?”
“I am.” I raised the crown, which I gripped tightly in my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Iain wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. I hugged him as the waves tossed us between foamy white crests. His magic swelled on the air, and the ether sucked us in, spinning us through space.
It spat us out in his tower chambers a moment later. I shook so hard from the cold that I nearly lost my footing, but Iain steadied me.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
“Fine. Just… overwhelmed.”
“What do you need?”
“Nothing. Just space.” I pulled back f
rom him, turning toward the empty hearth. So many things raced through my mind, but it was worry for my friends that pushed to the front. I looked at Iain. “I’m going to call Connor.”
He nodded. “I need to speak to my council briefly. I’ll be back momentarily with food.”
My stomach grumbled in anticipation. Fates, that sounded good.
Iain strode to me and gripped my arms firmly, then leaned down and pressed a quick, hard kiss to my lips, as if he couldn’t leave without doing so.
I blinked at him, emotions swirling in my chest.
Then he turned and left, disappearing quickly through the door. Shivering, I turned back to the fire and called upon my flame, forcing the hearth to light with crackling warmth. For once, it worked without blasting a hole in the hearth.
I sat on the floor in front of it, not caring that it was cold and hard. I was too wet to sit in the chairs and in too much of a hurry to change before calling Connor.
I touched my comms charm and spoke, my voice echoing in the huge, beautiful room. “Connor? Are you there?”
“Claire. Are you all right? You sound…stressed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’d say that’s accurate.” I was so keyed up that I felt like I was vibrating. “But I’m fine. Have you found Del and Nix?”
“Not yet, but we’re on their trail. They aren’t dead, according to Aethelred.”
“Thank fates.” My shoulders sagged, tension draining from me. It was that fear that stalked me the worst—the idea that I might lose my friends in this terrible endeavor. Or lose Iain.
“What about you?” Connor asked. “Did you find the crown? Are you cured?”
“I found it, but I haven’t put it on yet.” I doubted it would be so simple as to cure me as soon as I put it on, but I didn’t say that. Right now, I was so worried and beaten down that I needed to believe that putting the thing on would solve all my problems.
Carefully, I loosened my grip on the metal. The gold had dug into my skin, and it ached as the blood returned. I set the crown on the ground next to me.
“What else happened, Claire? I can tell there’s something you’re not saying.”
“I’m—” the memory of the past surged to the front of my mind. “I’m so tied up in this, Connor.”
