The Heartwood Chronicles

I’m back! WITCHBLAZE released at the end of January, and now I have time to spare for finishing up this arc. Hooray!

The way out took Naia and Amber into a tunnel where they had to crawl on hands and knees in the close darkness. It widened at the exit, enough that Naia could stand up with hunched shoulders and bent head. She clawed apart the vines covering the hole, disturbing a cloud of midges.

Naia stumbled through the vegetation, emerging into…

Afternoon.

After the dark roar of the river and the glowing silence of the lake, the bright sunshine and insectile drone felt as if they belonged to another world. Naia stood rooted to the spot, blinking like a daylight-stunned owl.

A hand pressed between her shoulders, and Naia moved aside for Amber. She smiled at the other girl. “Well, we made it out.”

Amber gave a slight, exhausted nod. She looked even worse in the daylight. A bruise was forming on the right side of her face, stretching from temple to jaw. Her lip was puffed up and scratches covered her other cheek.

“You look terrible,” said Naia, worried. Amber, she remembered, was rather fragile, more like an ordinary human than a mage. She’d forgotten about that.

“I got into a fight with a raging river.” Amber whispered. “I lost.” She limped over to sit on a nearby rock. She clutched the tatters of her damp cloak closer around herself and shivered.

“I’m sorry. I lost control,” said Naia. Her hands balled into fists. She’d been doing so well. Then all of a sudden, the raging current had gotten away from her, the water bridge had sunk, and Amber had stopped to help.

“We were attacked,” said Amber. “You couldn’t help that.” With a tiny grimace of pain, she closed her eyes. Her voice was raspy and tired, as if it, too, had lost a struggle with rock and water. “What happened to Lisette and Tamsin?”

“They were safely on the other side. They must’ve gotten away. All we need to do is meet up with them again.”

Amber made a soft sound, a ghost of a laugh. “How?”

Naia began, “Your ghosts—”

“Aren’t good for searching an entire forest, take too long, and are unreliable,” finished Amber. “Also, I have no magical energy left to speak of. I used it all up fighting the river.” Her words ended on a sigh. Her shoulders drooped.

“Then we’ll start by seeking shelter in one of the settlements in these mountains.”

“You mean ask the people who hate mages for help?”

“We won’t do any magic while we’re there,” said Naia stoutly.

Amber opened her eyes. “Naia, let’s face reality. We’re stuck out here with no supplies. We have no food—”

“We can eat berries and mushrooms.”

“Do you mean the poisonous ones or the hallucinogenic ones? Our clothes are wet and torn—”

“We’ll dry off in the sun.”

“And there are magical predators all over the place, along with one lightning mage who, last I checked, was aiming to kill us,” continued the relentless realist.

“We’ll just have to dodge them,” said Naia, “or fight them. What other choice do we have?”

For a moment, Amber stared. She laughed, then grimaced as the movement hurt her face. “I suppose you’re right.” She examined Naia with narrowed eyes. “Your suns are still misshapen, though.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll still fight if I’m cornered.”

“Well, if nothing else, you’re still a crescent moon in raikiji,” Amber pointed out. “That should help.”

Naia frowned at her. “How will flower-arranging help us now?”

The pattern mage’s eyes widened. She sat up very straight.

Naia remembered when she’d told Amber that, what she’d let Amber think. She said softly, “Oops.”

“You-you-you…,” spluttered Amber.

“Now, calm down,” Naia pleaded. “You were an enemy combatant, and—”

“You let me think you were a martial arts master!”

“I told you the truth! I can’t help it if you don’t anything about Kaidan culture! You should join my Cultural Appreciation Club. We covered raikiji just last meeting.”

“This is not the right time to be recruiting members, Naia!” Amber made a disgusted sound. “To think I was fooled by an expert in flower arranging.”

“Actually,” said Naia meekly, “crescent moon is the lowest rank. I’m terrible at flower arranging. I’m terrible at any feminine graces, really.” She bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud.

Amber raised her eyebrows. “I don’t see that at all.”

Naia shrugged. “I’m about as far from the Kaidan ideal of an accomplished woman as you can imagine. I’m not exactly svelte and graceful, as you can see.” She gestured to herself. “I’m loud, I’m unrestrained, I have a black thumb. My paintings are blobs, and I sing about as well as a crow. The only thing I was good at was magic, and even now that’s gone.” Tears stung her eyes. She sniffed. “And I’m babbling on and on. I talk too much, I know. Everyone tells me that.” She pressed her lips together, determined to say no more.

Her words still hung in the air, heavy and awkward. Naia nearly groaned out loud. Why had she unloaded all this on Amber? They were on a mission, for goodness’s sake. She should be focused on that, on finding Lisette and Tamsin, not throwing herself a pity party.

Mahoe would’ve never lost control of her feelings like this. Mahoe would’ve never chattered on. Mahoe would never have a runny nose and never need to hunt through her tattered clothing for a handkerchief.

Naia tugged off a ripped part of her sleeve and blew her nose defiantly. She was not her beautiful, graceful, and accomplished older sister, and she would never be.

“Well, I admit I don’t know much about Kaidan culture, but I don’t think you need to change yourself when you’re fine the way you are,” said Amber finally. “You’re kind and you’re cheerful, and you’re good at organizing and bringing people together.” She grinned. “Lisette and I don’t always get on, you know. It’d be a lot more tense between us without you.”

“Yeah, sometimes you’re sour and uptight, and she’s abrasive and impatient.” Naia clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. “Oh, my wretched tongue!” Her words came out muffled.

“Sour and uptight, huh?” said Amber dryly. “Since you were so down on yourself earlier, I won’t return the compliment.” She got up. “Let’s go.”

“What? Where?” Naia looked around, as if expecting to see a newly opened pathway.

Amber pointed into the forest. “I scraped up enough magic to send out a ghost out while you were talking. It found people nearby. Let’s go check them out.”

***

The girls lay on their stomachs upon a bank, looking down at a bend in the road below. A train of mules passed slowly by, each animal laden with baskets and bundles. Naia couldn’t tell what was in any of them. She wondered if Amber could.

The pattern mage’s bony shoulder and hip pressed against her. Amber’s other hand gripped a fistful of her cloak. A ticklish feeling spread across the back of Naia’s neck. She assumed that was Amber’s magic, concealing the two of them.

Either that, or a spider was creep-crawling over her.

Naia tensed. She really hoped it was magic. Her shoulders twitched. Amber nudged her with a sharp elbow, and Naia forced herself to lie still.

A figure passed beneath them. Like all the other handlers, it was wrapped in a dark cloak, face covered with a cloth mask. Naia felt that soap-bubble-pop feeling against her skin that told her the people below were mages.

They were definitely not settlers or traders.

The mule stopped, halted by a tug on its halter. It dropped its head and began to graze on the short spiky grass at the side of the dusty trail.

A man prowled on the mule’s near side, a restless energy radiating from his compact, muscled frame. He was dressed in leather and fur, and a wolf’s mask covered his face. Silver bracelets encircled his wrists; silver chains looped around his waist. More silver studded his vest and pierced through his ears. Naia was surprised he didn’t jingle.

He took five swinging strides one way, made an abrupt turn. Five strides back, turn again. He repeated the movement over and over until Naia felt like screaming for him to stop. His impatience was palpable.

The mule—and indeed the entire forest—ignored Wolf’s tension. Dappled sunlight slanted onto beast and road. An insectile hum overlay the scene.

Wolf swung around mid-way through his walk, looking over the mule’s back, chin lifted up as if scenting the wind. “Oh, so you’re finally here, are you?” he called to someone out of Naia’s sight. His voice held a raspy snarl.

Another man walked into view, about the same height as Wolf, but slighter. The hood of his light-colored sweatshirt was up and his hands buried in its pockets. His head was bent, so Naia couldn’t make out his face and hair.

Wolf said, a sneer in his voice, “So you’re the new guy, huh.”

The other man ignored him, strolled around the mule’s head, and stopped. Naia dropped her chin so she could see better. The hair peeking out from beneath the newcomer’s hood was blond.

“Not the talkative type, are you,” said Wolf. “Well, you’re only here for one thing. Get to it, then.” He tugged the strap on the cloth-covered bundle upon the mule’s back.

The strap came undone, the cloth unrolled, Wolf shoved the mule’s burden.

A body tumbled into the road with a thud.

Naia bit down on her sharp intake of breath. Amber went rigid.

Both stared down at the hideously deformed face of a dead man.

Green scales covered the bulging left side of his face. His left eye was small and screwed up, his forehead a livid color. His jaw appeared to unhinged, and a long black tongue protruded from it. The left side of his body was misshapen, the arm elongated, blackened, and claw-tipped, the leg bent at an unnatural angle. His foot had torn through the boot; it, too, was covered in scales and topped with claws.

The newcomer squatted beside the corpse. “Where did he come from?” He had a cool, quiet voice. It reminded Naia of clear pools in Kaidan rock gardens.

Wolf grunted. “A surveyor from one of those bloody mining companies in Hampton. Mountains are crawling with them.”

Naia’s nostrils flared. Was the corpse below Stetson or Rey? What had happened to him?

What a horrible way to die. It could’ve been one of us, if we’d come earlier.

“You tried the serum on him,” the newcomer observed.

Wolf shrugged. “Why not? Poor sod wasn’t strong enough. Died partway through the transformation. Acidia was disappointed.”

“Why didn’t she clean it up herself?”

“No time. She’s got other things on her mind. You don’t really expect her to handle garbage disposal, do you?”

Outrage sparked inside Naia. How dare that awful man call another human being garbage? Her fingers clenched in soil and leaf litter. A wind stirred around her head. Amber pressed her elbow hard against Naia’s side. With a start, Naia dismissed the draught.

The newcomer did not deign a reply. He removed his hands, covered in black fingerless gloves, from his pockets. They made a stark contrast against his light jacket and faded-to-gray pants. His fingers were long and slender, like a musician’s.

The newcomer rested his fingertips lightly against the dead man’s forehead and bent his head. “Rest in peace,” he said.

A shiver ran over the corpse.

It broke apart into dust.

Naia stared as vapor and heat streamed up from the empty spot where the body had lain. Another moment, and the cloud-shimmer was gone. Warmth puffed against Naia’s cheeks; then, it, too dissipated.

Gone. He touched the man, and now he’s gone. It was a good thing she was lying down already because her legs had jellied. What kind of magic is this?

Even Wolf seemed taken aback by the newcomer’s power. He took an involuntary step backward, caught himself. “Looks like you’re the real deal, after all.” The sneer in his voice was half-hearted with a side of shaken.

The newcomer unfolded himself to his feet and glanced up at where Naia and Amber lay behind a screen of overhanging vines.

His hair was indeed blonde, and a grey bandana covered the lower part of his face. He looked to be a lot younger than Naia had thought, close to her own age.

His eyes held a reddish gleam.

Naia held herself very still, hoping that Amber’s spell hid their pale faces from view.

We should’ve smeared them with dirt.

The youth’s gaze scanned across the top of the bank, not lingering on where the Heartwood mages hid.

Then he turned and walked away, past the mule. “I’m going to the lab now.”

“You know where to find it?” Wolf called to his back.

The newcomer threw up his right hand in assent and strolled out of sight.

Wolf stared after him and rubbed his chin. “Weird guy,” he announced to the mule.

Author’s Note: I’ve been waiting over a decade to use the “So, you’re the new guy” line. It’s from a cut scene in Xenosaga, a video game I remember very little of. For whatever reason, that one line has been stuck in my head all these years. And now I get to use it! Also, villains are coming out of the woodwork. First Lightning Guy, now Wolf Mask, Disintegration Dude, and Acidia. Just what is going on in these woods?

Hello, Heartwood readers!

You may have noticed that no episode went out yesterday like it was supposed to (I know, I’m sad about it, too). That’s because I’m currently stuck in Line Edits Purgatory, trying to get WITCHBLAZE, Book 3 of The Reflected City, ready for release this month. I have fewer than a hundred pages to go, so the end is in sight. Once WB is wrapped up, I’ll get back to Heartwood ASAP. Good thing Naia and Amber got out of the water and are safe for now. As far as pauses go, this is not a bad place for a brief stop. Be back soon!

PS: I started a Discord server to chat with readers. If you want an invite, contact me.

Lisette stumbled through a nightmarish world of shifting shadows and jagged splinters. Frost hardened over skin, cold sank into muscle and bone, turning them to stone and ice. If it hadn’t been for Tamsin’s urgent voice in her ear, Tamsin’s ropes around her body, she would’ve fallen, cracked, broken into a thousand pieces.

Her joints crackled with every movement. Shafts of cold pierced through her arms, her legs, her torso. Twin points of agony burned in her neck.

One last stagger, almost pitching onto her face, caught, held up. Darkness giving way to light… a thin distant light. Her eyes blurred with tears, she saw nothing at all. Felt nothing but the deep burning cold. Shivers ran over her body.

The world tilted around her—she could no longer tell if she moved through it or it moved around her. A babble rose above her head. She made out nothing at all, save the sound of Tamsin’s voice, glad, relieved.

Words slurred out through het stiff lips: “Amber. Naia.”

Hands grabbed Lisette by the shoulders. She would’ve winced away, struggled out of reach, but she was mostly ice. Even her lashes were frozen, her eyelids immobile, unblinking. A face, aged, weather-beaten, with deep-set eyes of a pale icy blue, swam into focus in all that white nothingness.

A name came to her: Wulf.

Fingers dug into her cheek and chin, pried her mouth open. Lisette nearly choked on the pastille they shoved into her mouth. It leaked bitter honey, tracing a thin line of fire down her throat.

She could move again, a little. Lisette brought up her hands—oh, how her icicle arms creaked and chimed—but it was too much. Her bones melted to water, and down she went, into darkness.

Lisette screamed as the ground fell away beneath her. Her stomach was an open pit, her entire body a clench. Wind whipped through her hair and howled in her ears.

Please, she thought, please.

And then something stirred inside her, a brightness. She felt light, as if she’d been turned to feathers. She drifted slowly downward.

Lisette unscrewed her eyes. A pale light bathed the trees, turning them into silver-gilt.

It took her a moment to realize the light came from her.

Lisette held her hands in front of her face, turning them in awe. They shone.

A terrible thought came to her: Am I dead? Am I a ghost?

The light vanished. Lisette plummeted. Her eyes caught sight of something moving within the trees—a figure.

  She gasped out, “Help!” Then she hit the ground with a thud and blacked out.

 

“Wake up! Wake up!” Someone patted Lisette’s cheek, soft but insistent. The voice was unfamiliar.

It took some moments for Lisette to blink away the fuzziness from her eyes and mind. Then she shot up with a yelp, her heart thudding.

She had escaped the cellar, run out into the forest again, gotten lost. Oh, what would Mother say?

“Hey, take it easy.” Someone put a hand on Lisette’s shoulder and pressed her back down, against something soft.

Lisette stared up at a freckled face, greenish eyes, a ruddy braid, and a big, warm smile.

She said, blankly, “Did I fall?

The older girl chuckled. “No, it looked like you flew. Or, more like, drifted down. Good thing we came to find you. It’s dangerous this deep in the mountains.”

Lisette’s wondering gaze traveled beyond the girl’s shoulders to two teenaged boys at the campfire behind her. One, a pale thin youth with messy black hair and spectacles, stared back in interest. The other boy was facing away, hood drawn over his head, shoulders hunched, hands plunged into his coat pockets.

She had never seen them before, but all three radiated unfathomable energy. The girl made a small gesture with her hand, and a braided cord wrapped around a nearby mug, snaked over to Lisette, and offered it to her.

Magic. They were doing magic. Freely, openly. Unafraid of Chaos.

Dazedly, Lisette took the mug. It was hot in her hands. “Who are you?” she whispered. Her gaze clung to the girl’s face.

She gave a merry laugh. “I’m Tamsin. The tall dark one behind me is Keon, and the unfriendly one is Ashe. We”—pride rang out in her voice—“are Heartwood mages.”

 

Lisette woke with a violent twitch, stared wildly up into a leafy canopy covered in sunlit gleams.

Overhead, a bird twittered.

Her neck throbbed. Lisette put her hand up to it and felt bandages. Her nose was full of an astringent smell. For a moment she was back in the small nook off the kitchen, with the dried herbs hanging from the beams and clay pots of salve lined up on the shelf.

No. Lisette shook away the memory, winced.

Then she remembered again. The underground river. Her friends. The shadow descending, the water overwhelming. Her stomach clenched.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Tamsin dropped to her knees next to Lisette. “Can you sit up?”

“Yes.” The word came out a croak. Lisette grimaced as Tamsin helped her sit. She said, “Amber and Naia?”

She saw the regret in Tamsin’s eyes before the other girl spoke. “We were lucky to be found by a hunting party from one of the villages. They’ve sent out some of their men to scout out the nearby area, but they won’t go into the mines.” Tamsin took a deep breath, looked away, then back. “I’m sorry, Lisette.”

Lisette’s insides were still heavy and cold. The light slanting through the canopy couldn’t seem to penetrate her skin. Everything about her felt off, from the greyish cast to her vision to the strange leadenness inside her. She could still feel darkness threading through her muscles.

The part of her that did magic felt numb, asleep.

So what? “I’m going back inside,” Lisette said. “I have to find them.”

“Don’t be silly, Lisette! You’re in no condition to. You were bitten by just one of those bat creatures and look what that did to you!”

“It doesn’t matter. They’re my friends. I still need to go.”

“So you can die a stupidly heroic death?” Tamsin glared at her. “Is that going to help them?”

Lisette levered herself to her feet. “It might be stupid, but I can’t do nothing!”

“Nothing is all you can do!” Tamsin exclaimed. “Or have you recovered your magic already?”

Lisette bit her lip. She felt light-headed, short of breath. She wouldn’t get far.

“You nearly died in there,” Tamsin pressed. “If the villagers hadn’t found us, hadn’t had an antidote, three of us would’ve been lost.”

“They’re not dead!” Lisette’s voice lashed, whip-like, through the clearing. She glared at Tamsin. “Naia and Amber are not dead.” Her look challenged Tamsin to naysay her.

Tamsin didn’t take the challenge. She made a placating gesture. “All right, all right, Lisette. But please be reasonable. You’re in no fit state to return to the mines.”

But you could. Lisette said nothing out loud. Heavy silence hung between them.

Tamsin was the first to look away. “They’re both strong mages. Naia manipulates water, for goodness’ sake!” Her tone became more confident. “I bet they’re just fine. They’ll come find us, even.”

She went on in this vein for a while. Lisette didn’t know whom she was trying to reassure—herself or Lisette. Through the heavy greyness upon her soul, Lisette felt the prick of something sharp.

Disillusionment. She had always looked up to Tamsin, always considered her strong and smart and brave.

She could’ve done something more to save Amber and Naia. Lisette quashed the thought. She herself had been of little help. Wasn’t she just being unfair to Tamsin?

Still that feeling persisted, pinned to her chest.

A discreet rustle in the bushes ahead. A man came walking around them, an old man with grey hair tied in a braid and pale stubble on his chin. Yet his back was straight and the icy eyes he trained upon the pair hadn’t changed an iota.

Lisette stiffened. So it had been him, after all. All this running around, steering clear from her former home, only to fall into the hands of the Cloud Villagers

Wulf’s gaze passed over her with no recognition. He addressed Tamsin, “We’re returning to the village now. Are you coming?” His voice had roughened with age, but his tone was supremely indifferent. Lisette felt a familiar frustrated anger in her stomach.

Say no! she wanted to shout, but one look at Tamsin’s scratched, dirt-stained face silenced her. Dusk would be falling soon, and predators prowled this part of the mountains.

“In a minute.” Tamsin looked at Lisette, pleading.

“Decide now,” said Wulf, folding his sinewy arms. “Snoutbecks, yowgrims, and cloud cats hunt after dark. Chaos breaks through, invisible. We leave, with or without you.”

Lisette’s teeth clenched. It took all she had to stay upright, to keep her head up. Tamsin was right. She had to hope that Naia and Amber had saved themselves. If she thought she could find them herself, she would search, dark or no dark, magic or no magic.

But she knew her chances of being of help were almost nonexistent.

“Fine,” she gritted out. “We’ll come.”

“If you seek shelter with us, then you must follow our customs.” Wulf’s gaze clashed with Lisette’s. “No exceptions.” He held out whitish rings in his fist.

Bracelets of suppression. Lisette drew in a breath.

Tamsin put a hand on Lisette’s arm. “Please,” she said softly. “Just put up with it this once.” Outside from the camp, something—probably a yowgrim—raised an eerie howl. Green flashed in the mist surrounding the peaks in the distance.

Lisette let out a harsh sigh. “All right.”

***

Naia struggled.

Her head broke the surface. She took in a half-gulp of air, then water crashed over her again. She flailed, fingertips skimming across rock. The current swept her on before she could grab a hold of anything.

Once, her shoulder and head smashed against a protrusion. Pain sparked white in front of her eyes. Momentarily immobilized, she couldn’t grab the rock before the river dragged her on.

Do something! she yelled at herself. But even her magic was in chaos. She tried to grab hold of something—anything—but the water whipped through her grasp. She gasped, spluttered, was swept away.

In her ears, the river roared. In her eyes, nothing but darkness.

And then the bottom dropped out from under the river.

Water plummeted, and so did Naia. Tangled in a thick sheet of it she fell… fell…

Once more, Naia hit water. The force of her fall plunged her down… down… down…

Blue glimmers in the darkness.

Light.

Naia unscrewed her eyes.

Beneath her, under more and more water, the rock glowed. Blue light covered the bottom of the water, as far as Naia could see.

She floated above a sheet of shimmering blue, speckled with silver.

The current that had pushed and pulled, crashed and dragged her along was gone. She was no longer in the river, but some kind of lake.

And just out of her reach was magic, emanating from its bed.

Please. Naia opened herself to it. She felt it move through the water, brush against her skin. It wrapped around her like a silky scarf. The pressure in her lungs from holding her breath eased.

Naia stretched out her arms and the magic pooled into her hands. The water sparkled blue; the entire lake seemed to be aglow. Dark fish shapes whispered through every now and again. Naia looked up and saw a shadow falling in through the water. Tattered wings seemed to outline it.

The blue light touched a pale face, eyes closed; a cloud of fair hair.

Amber! Gathering the magic to her, Naia darted through the water. It made way for her at the front, pushed her along from behind.

Right here, right now, manipulating water felt so easy. Easier than it ever had. The whole lake lay under her control; in fact, it seemed eager to help.

She grabbed the unconscious girl around the waist, shot up towards the surface. Their heads broke water and Naia inhaled cool, musty air. Amber’s head lolled against her shoulder; she spluttered, coughed up water. Her eyes opened to slits, she took in a shuddering breath.

Naia drew up thick ropes of water around the two of them. A watery tower lifted the girls up out of the lake, then rolled across the surface to the edge of the lake. Naia made a one-handed gesture, and the ropes eased the girls onto the shore.

Magic and water slipped away from Naia. The feeling of power vanished as the blue-flecked ropes lost shape, fell back into the lake with a small splash.

“Thank you,” Naia said.

They sprawled at the edge of a glowing lake that lay like an opal in the center of yet another cavern. On the far side, a white cascade crashed into the lake, churning up water into a white froth.

Amber moved, weakly, drew away from Naia. Her eyes were enormous in her scratched face. Her clothes, like Naia’s, were torn, the mist cloak in ribbons.

“Well,” she whispered, her voice hoarse as if it, too, had been scratched by rock. “We survived. Now what?”

“I smell fresh air,” said Naia, tilting her head in that direction. “Let’s finally get out of here.”

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas! By the time you see this, it’ll be Christmas Eve. Right now, as I write, it’s early December and we have our tree up, lit, and decorated. I’m enjoying sitting on the couch and looking at it. See you in the New Year!

Water. There was water everywhere.

It dripped from the forest of creamy stalactites hanging from the ceiling. It spilled down the walls and ran into swift streams that flowed towards the far side, screened off by rock formations. Here and there, half-seen between columns and curtains, lay pools as still as a mirror’s surface.

A symphony of water sounds—chuckles and chimes, gurgles and splashes—played on in the cavern, seeking no audience but singing for the sheer joy of it.

Bands of glowing material threaded the rock, lay alongside tiny silver falls, beneath pools, and within stone formations. Blue light spangled across the water and filled the whole place with a cool, calming, and magical aura.

Lisette sensed no threat. Eagerly she moved forward. This wasn’t the golden warmth she craved, but it was a lot better than darkness. She climbed on top of an upthrust slab of glowing rock and sprawled belly down upon it. Its hardness bit into her skin, but the trickle of silvery light seeping into her diminished suns more than made up for it. Magic cocooned around her.

She felt safe for the first time since they’d entered the mine.

Naia crouched beside a stream, her hands already in the water. Amber hesitated, her eyes flickering as she switched between her pattern and real sights, then joined the Kaidan girl. The two of them took greedy gulps of water in cupped hands, then splashed their faces.

Tamsin edged around the cavern, stopping to examine the glowing veins. There was a bright, inquisitive expression on her face.

Micah would’ve loved this place, Lisette thought. She drew in a sharp breath.

She had forced herself to not think about her little brother in years. And yet, her memory painted him everywhere—in the forest, now this unknown cavern.

A sour tasted filled her mouth. Lisette rolled off the rock. The jolt of her feet hitting the ground felt good.

This is real; that other thing is just a dream.

She went over to where Tamsin examined the tip of a stalagmite. “See.” Tamsin pointed. “Stetson and Rey must’ve been here.” Part of the glowing top had been sliced off by a cutting tool.

“Is this where your sample came from then?”

Tamsin patted her pouch. “Most likely. But they must’ve found another way in.” She squinted into the shadows of the far side.

“No surprise there. These mountains are riddled with caves and tunnels.” Lisette turned to the others and called, “Come on, you two! Amber, where’s that ghost of yours?”

Amber’s pattern sense led them to the far side of the cavern, following the path of the streams. Water gushed down the sloping floor. Several times they splashed through puddles. At least the gleaming substance remained, still lighting their way.

Amber reached out to it, fingers hovering, not touching. “It’s magic, I think,” she whispered. “But different. I can brush it, but not hold it. It feels like liquid light.”

“You get this sort of stuff in the Greyridge Mountains,” Tamsin responded. “I need to get back to report this. This changes, well, it could change everything.”

Lisette’s shoulders twitched. A familiar feeling draped over her. The world seemed greyer, dimmer.

Naia gasped. “What happened? The air got heavier, all of a sudden.”

Lisette glanced upwards, though the ceiling was lost in darkness. “Suppression,” she said briefly. “It resists magic. Also the sort of stuff found in these mountains.” She could barely unclench her jaws to shape the words. Her brief respite from the heaviness was over.

First the darkness, now this.

“Don’t fight it,” said Tamsin placidly. “You’d only waste your magic needlessly. Suppression isn’t evenly distributed. We must’ve hit a dense patch. We’ll get out of it soon enough.”

From the front, Naia said, “Shhh! Listen!”

A dull roar boomed above the aquatic cacophony. A chilly wind, flecked with spray, blew into Lisette’s face as she followed the others. Water sloshed around her boots.

Tell me all this water has found a way out! She peered into the gloom, hoping for a telltale spot of light. The mountains were covered in cascades big and small. As long as there was an opening, she was ready to dig her way out, even with bleeding fingers.

Amber stopped. Lisette almost ran into her, then stepped to the side.

She stared.

A massive underground river rushed in front of them. They stood upon a triangular spit of land jutting out into the dark, crashing waters. The collected streams from the cavern ran past and cascaded into the river. The sound of falling water was lost in its echoing roar.

Blue bands in the surrounding rock glimmered faintly. There was no other light, no sign of an exit.

There was no way forward.

 

Finally, Amber said, “I lost the ghost. I think it got sucked into the river.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tamsin lifted up her hand, the glowing red map once again in front of her. “This river is on my map. Once we get to the other side of it, we can pick up a tunnel that’ll take us to an exit on the other side of the mountain.

Amber shuddered. “I’m not getting into that water.”

Lisette nodded. “Even if it’s shallow, it’s moving too swiftly. If I had more magic, I could fly you across, but—” Her fists clenched.

She hated being helpless. Hated being grounded like this.

“Don’t worry,” said Tamsin. “We can hold on to my ropes as we go across. And Naia can do something about this water.”

“Yes, but…” Naia bit her bottom lip.

“You told me you made water bridges in the Shattered Valley,” Tamsin argued. “You can do this.”

“But that was still water. Anything fast-moving—rain, this river—I just can’t get out a hold of it!” Naia burst out. Her face was pale, her eyes enormous and unhappy. “It’s just not been working out recently, and even my air magic—” She closed her lips into a tight line.

“I told you,” began Amber, “it’s your suns–”

“Since I can’t see them, that’s not really helpful, Amber!”

Lisette broke in, “Crossing the river isn’t our only option. If we backtrack to the cavern, we can find another way out. Amber, you can send more ghosts.”

“I don’t have a map of that place,” Tamsin objected. “We could end up going around in circles for hours, days, but beyond the river is all charted out.”

“How can we trust the map?” Amber snapped. “It completely missed a freaking pit in the middle of the floor!”

“Calm down, Amber.” Lisette put a hand on the pattern mage’s shoulder. It was tight with tension.

“We can trust the map,” said Tamsin, “because many smart, skilled mages have worked on it. And I know for a fact the tunnels on the other side of this river have been explored and well-mapped and vetted by the villagers who have a claim on these mines! We don’t have much time; we need to get out of here.”

Amber’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, we know that your chief reason for hurrying out of here is so you can get your precious samples to Hampton!”

“Stop it, Amber,” Lisette broke in. She had never seen Amber be rude like this before.

Tamsin took a deep breath. “I’m looking out for everyone here. Or haven’t you noticed how oppressed Lisette’s been all this time? She hates the dark.”

Amber and Naia both looked at Lisette. Lisette saw Amber waver, regret in her eyes.

She set her jaw. “I’m fine,” she said, her words clipped. “We need to do what’s best for everyone.”

“And that’s to get out of here quickly and safely,” Tamsin pressed. “Remember that creature that was prowling around? Do you really want to go back in there?”

Amber’s teeth clicked together, but she said nothing.

After an awkward pause, Naia said, softly, “I’m willing to try. Crossing the river, I mean. It’s only a short distance. I should be able to do this.”

Tamsin beamed and seized Naia’s hand. “I know you can! Give it a practice go. I have experience controlling stuff that waves.” She touched the rope coiled at her waist. “I’ll help you.” She led Naia to the river bank and called up more light. The ruddy light of her cryst cast oily patches on the choppy water.

It didn’t look any less sinister in the light.

Lisette dropped her hand. “Sorry, Amber. But I think she’s right. This is our best chance. Your ghosts aren’t that reliable.”

“I know,” said Amber tiredly. “But I don’t think it’s right to push Naia when her magic is in so much flux.”

“She thinks she can do it.”

“Reality doesn’t care what she thinks.” Amber rubbed her eyes. “And right now, the reality is that Naia has lost control of both her wind and water magic.”

 

It was time to go.

Tamsin had chosen the crossing, and the longest of her ropes spanned the river waist-high from its surface. It was secured by a grappling hook on the far side, and tied to an outcropping on the near one. Tamsin had handed each girl a shorter length of rope. Infused with Tamsin’s magic, it coiled around Lisette’s waist like a living thing, ends tied together in a loop.

“I’ll go first,” said Tamsin briskly. “If something goes wrong, my ropes will respond to me the quickest.”

“I should be last on the water bridge,” Naia added.

Amber fussed with her rope and mist cloak. “I’ll stay near you, for reinforcement.”

That left Lisette in second place. Her wings shifted slightly, weakly in protest. She wasn’t used to hiding in the middle of the group. She grimaced.

The sooner I can get into the light, the better.

“All right, then.” Tamsin held the ends of her rope out to the main one spanning the bridge. The loop opened briefly, then tied shut again around the larger rope.

Naia, face set, swept her arms up in front of her, palms upraised up to the unseen ceiling.

Something broke out of the water, long and slightly rounded, like the grey back of a sea serpent. It snaked across the river from bank to bank. Its right side was jagged, constantly breaking and reforming against the ferocious onslaught of the current. Its left side streaked into bubbling foam.

Naia made a gentle spreading motion with her hands. Slowly, she lowered her arms.

The bridge wobbled a little, bobbed up and down—and stayed.

Naia let out her breath, broke into a smile. “How was that?” she asked Amber.

The pattern mage focused on the bridge, her eyes narrowed, intent on what only she could see. Finally, she nodded. “It’s good.”

“Let’s go, ladies,” said Tamsin and stepped onto the bridge.

Lisette clapped Naia on the shoulder. “Good job,” she said and followed Tamsin.

The bridge was thin and spongy underfoot. Every step, Lisette expected her boot to puncture its surface. Underneath it, the current flowed just as swiftly, its sound a sinister chuckling. Lisette held onto her tether. If the bridge collapsed, Tamsin’s ropes would keep them from being swept away.

Lisette fixed her eyes on Tamsin now halfway across the river. Let’s cross this quickly.

“See, I told you I could do it,” said Naia from behind, her spirits obviously recovered.

“Your suns still look like squashed peanuts,” Amber returned. There was a squishy sound, and Naia said, “Oops.” A moment later, Amber remarked dryly, “Good save.”

Lisette crossed the halfway mark and quickened her pace. She was almost to the bank when she realized the others weren’t following. She swung around. “Don’t dawdle, you two!”

Amber had stopped, squinting at the bridge. “Just let me reinforce this part.” Naia, too, was motioning more water into the rapidly thinning span. It was deflating fast.

The back of Lisette’s neck prickled a warning. “Hurry—!”

Something black and blunt dropped between her and Amber. It hit the bridge like a giant hammer.

Solidity vanished from under Lisette’s feet. With a cry, she plunged into the river. Darkness sucked her under. Water rushed over her head, filled her mouth.

A jerk around her waist. Lisette flailed, gulped air again. A hand grabbed her wrist, dragged her onto dry land.

“Amber, Naia!” Lisette shook off the restraining hand. She caught sight of Naia’s pale face, of Amber’s braid and mist cloak, bobbing in the river. Waves crashed over them.

A dark cloud erupted from the river’s surface. High-pitched shrieks and frantic wing beats filled the air. Lisette called up all the magic she could drag out of herself.

It came in drips and drabbles, thick light slipping off her fingers.

Not enough.

Ropes lashed through the shadowy flock, sent it scattering across the river.

Lisette flung herself down at the edge of the water, leaning out as far as she could, arm outstretched. Amber and Naia still clung to Tamsin’s rope, now snaking loosely through the water. “Grab my hand,” Lisette yelled.

The rope went taut, and Amber began pulling herself along it.

Above their heads, the bat-like creatures melted together. The thick mass reshaped itself into a long, thin blade.

It fell.

“No!” Lisette screamed.

Naia and Amber disappeared behind the rush of darkness. The cut end of the rope flew through the air. Lisette barely felt it hit her shoulder. The black mass exploded into fragments in front of her face. Ignoring them, she lunged into the water. “Amber! Naia!”

Rope tightened around her waist. Cords wrapped around her wrists. “Don’t be an idiot!” called Tamsin. “You’ll only be washed away!”

Lisette hardly heard her. She struggled madly, futilely. The bats flew at her. Swearing low-voiced, Tamsin fought them off.

Sharp teeth sank into Lisette’s neck. She yelped, brushed off something cobwebby that tumbled into the darkness. A chill spread across her body, a fog shrouded her mind. Everything became a jumble of roaring water and shifting shadows.

Dimly, she realized Tamsin had taken her by the hand. Hauled her up, forced her back from the river, into the tunnels.

Lisette’s insides were frozen. Shivers ran across her body.

Over and over again, her mind replayed Naia and Amber vanishing behind the blade, into the river.

She had lost Amber and Naia to the darkness.

Read Episode 6.

Author’s Note: Annd, things go from bad to worse. The party separated, two of them washed away. Lisette bitten by some creepy bat-thing. I shouldn’t be happy, but reaching this point is a big milestone for this arc. And now I need to go write the rest of it!

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