The Heartwood Chronicles

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!

If you’re enjoying this arc and want to support the serialization of Heartwood, you can do so below:

White hot pain punched through Lisette’s body, pinned her in place. A distant boom echoed in her ears; a warm wind gusted against her face. White washed her vision.

Everything stopped: her heart, her lungs, her thoughts.

Her suns flared. Absorbed energy. Her sight grew dark.

Lisette drew in a shuddering breath. Even that small movement hurt.

She was on her hands and knees. An electric crackle danced over her. Something must’ve caught on fire—a singed smell was in her nose.

The darkness cleared, revealed blurred shapes.

One of these was Naia scrambling towards her.

“Stay away,” Lisette commanded. The words came out thick, slurred. Her ears rang. Her muscles jumped with residual energy.

Only one raw thought burned in her mind. They have to stay away! They can’t take it.

“Lisette! Grab a hold of this.” Something touched her hand, her fingers curled around it.

The crackling pain poured out of her body, her suns flooded her muscles with healing light. Lisette clutched the rope and just breathed. In and out, sharp pain receding to a dull ache.

Voices above her head:

“… couldn’t do anything in time… Will she be all right?… They’re still out there… we have to leave now.”

Fibers prickled against the palm of Lisette’s hand. Smooth metal cords were also woven throughout the rope. She forced her fingers to unclench, to sit up.

Her body protested the movement.

The hut was covered in debris and dust. Pieces of the roof littered the floor, their ends blackened and burnt. Lisette looked down at the scorch marks on her clothes and sniffed.

She was the source of the singed smell.

Naia peered out the glass-less window. “I don’t see anyone out there right now, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be back.”

Tamsin nodded, her face grim. She still held the glowing test tube in one fist. “That much magic from that great a distance? They may have had an amplifier. We won’t stand a chance against one of those. Lisette, can you go?”

Her eyes met Lisette’s, wide, desperate.

She’s afraid. The shock drove away the last of the fuzziness in Lisette’s mind, left her cold and taut. She nodded.

“What do you mean, amplifier?” Amber asked. The pattern mage had drawn her grey cloak tight around herself.

Tamsin didn’t answer. “Out the back, quickly. I’ll go first, Naia, you bring the rear. Amber and Lisette in the middle.” She thrust the test tube into her pouch and made a sharp gesture at her rope. It snaked ahead of her, its spiked front end raised, as if it could somehow see.

Amber helped Lisette to her feet. Her legs were a little shaky, but they held her up.

“Are you all right?” Amber’s face had a pinched, strained look. “You were hit hard by that lightning bolt. I thought your suns would fail.”

“I’m not that weak.” Was that really her voice, so raw and hoarse?

And she really did need Amber’s support after all. She had to lean on the other girl as they followed Tamsin into the empty sleeping chamber.

“If that had hit me, I’d be dead,” said Amber, staring straight ahead. “Thank you.”

“Just evening the score,” whispered Lisette as Tamsin’s ropes smashed through the flimsy exterior walls. Naia gestured, and a blast of air sent more boards flying in all directions. Lisette leaned away as a piece of wood brushed past her shoulder.

They hurried through the gap. Lisette’s back prickled as they came out into the open. Tamsin was heading towards the nearest wall, right for one of the boarded up mine entrances.

“Hurry!” Amber cried out.

Magical pressure began to build.

“Not this time,” muttered Naia and air stirred sluggishly around them.

“No time!” yelled Amber.

Tamsin was at the entrance, tearing at the boards. Wincing, Lisette quickened her pace as Amber tugged her along. Naia was close behind.

Splintered wood flew through the air. The girls plunged through the gap. Lisette’s hair crackled and lifted into a fine cloud.

“Further in!” Tamsin yelled. They stumbled down the tunnel. Amber tripped on the old rail tracks, nearly bringing Lisette down with her. She grabbed the pattern mage by the arm and hauled her a few steps, forcing her aching muscles onward.

An electric bolt slammed against the mountain. With a roar and a rumble, rock rushed down behind them. Rubble burst towards the girls; Naia flung out an arm, and wind sent the debris and dust whirling. Pebbles pinged against the walls, grit rained onto Lisette’s face.

She turned her head, blinking and coughing. “Watch out, Naia,” Amber choked out. In the darkness, the wind mage’s voice said sheepishly, “Sorry.”

Tamsin turned on her cryst-ring. A reddish glow illuminated the way they had come.

The entrance to the abandoned mine had completely collapsed. Rock filled the tunnel for several feet.

They were well and truly sealed inside.

 

Lisette hated the dark.

Hated the way it pressed upon her head, her shoulders. Hated its breath at the back of her neck, its musty scent in her nose, its cobwebby touch on her arms and hands.

She felt as if her suns were slowly dying inside her, extinguished by the overpowering dark.

The glower of Tamsin’s cryst barely made a dent in the tarry shadows. It was just enough to show them where to put their feet.

Lisette itched to release her magic inside in one bright burst. But absorbing the electric shock had taken a lot out of her. She had to hold her magic in reserve for whatever came next.

They walked in silence, single file. Tamsin led, her face painted with red light, a map of the mines hovering in front of her. The missing Stetson and Ray had done their work well, charting the old tunnels. Tamsin led them towards another exit, on the other side of the mountain.

They hoped no one was waiting for them there.

Naia followed Tamsin, her head up, as if sniffing for fresh air. Every now and then, her magic shifted and a cooler draft blew around the girls.

Lisette wished it would blow away the shadows. No luck though.

Wrapped in her cloak, Amber was a pale grey wraith. She twisted her fingers—she must be sending out another one of her ghosts. Trying to find a faster way, another exit. She turned her head, and Lisette saw her grimace.

No luck there either.

All around Lisette, her companions cast spells, used their magic. They all fought.

Only Lisette did not, oppressed by darkness. Helplessness lay stickily over her body and spirit.

This was just the same as before.

The same as being sent into the cellar or shut up in a closet when her magic manifested. The same as being hidden away by her own kin, lest she attract predators or worse, Chaos.

The same as being lost in the forest on a moonless night, hunted by beasts that showed only their creepy, glowing eyes.

Lisette’s skin crawled. Something rustled at the edge of her senses. In the lack of light, her hearing had sharpened unbearably—every step rang, every breath rasped, every shifting of rock scraped against her nerves.

“Blast,” said Tamsin disgustedly. She’d stopped and they looked past her to see why.

A pit yawned at her feet.

 

They stared down into the blacker-than-black mine shaft.

“This isn’t on the map,” said Tamsin.

Amber frowned. “All my ghosts have been sucked into it. The pattern’s really dense below.”

“Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?” Naia wondered.

Tamsin shook her head. “I’m positive we’ve been staying true to the map. They must’ve missed the shaft somehow.”

“Kinda hard to miss a gaping great hole,” muttered Amber.

“Most surveying is done with spells these days,” said Tamsin. Her mouth was wry. “That branch of magic is still in its infancy.” She jerked her chin towards the shaft. “I think we just found an error.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been paying more attention to what was ahead of us,” said Amber. “I was too busy looking for fresh air and light—a way out. Though”—she tilted her head as if listening to something no one else could hear—“several of my ghosts are tugging downward rather insistently. They think they’ve found an exit.”

Unease itched at Lisette’s skin. All her senses strained for that phantom tickling, that sensation of being watched and stalked in the dark. Didn’t the others see? Couldn’t they tell? It was too dangerous to stay up here any longer.

From their faces, none of them wanted to take the plunge into the shaft.

Naia said, slowly. “I think I can smell fresh air down there… or fresh something.”

“You could lift us down there, right?” asked Amber. “Like Troi with his air currents?”

Naia winced. “Uh, I don’t know about that–”

Warning screamed in Lisette’s ears. “We have to go now!” She lunged at Amber and Tamsin, grabbing them around the waists. Behind her darkness gathered into something with teeth and claws. “Follow us, Naia!” And she threw herself and them into the shaft.

 

Something swiped at Lisette’s hair as she fell—and missed. Amber and Tamsin yelped, but Lisette held them fast. Her wings and magic flared out in a blaze of light as they plummeted, slowing their fall. Shadows fled. The shaft became a great golden tunnel.

And then they were lighting down. “Landing,” Lisette warned and let the others go. She didn’t see them land, already draining her magic to go back up to Naia.

A swirl of air currents, and Naia came tumbling down, too fast, out of control. Lisette flew up, plunged through a stray wind, grabbed the Kaidan girl. Naia clung to her, the air went still, and Lisette struggled to keep them from falling.

She sent a last surge of magic into her wings to slow their descent. Rays of light painted the rock walls, then died. Rope snaked up to them, coiled around their waists, helped them down.

They landed, Naia with a soft oof. The impact reverberated up Lisette’s knees. Tamsin’s rope whipped away and coiled into her hand as she hurried over, enveloped in a ruddy glow.

“Are you two all right?” The vast space above their heads thinned her voice.

“Yes,” said Lisette.

“I…I think so,” said Naia shakily. A sheen of sweat covered her face. “I’m sorry. I lost control.” Her eyes were wild, troubled.

“It happens in times of stress,” said Tamsin. “You’ll get over it.”

Lisette didn’t share Tamsin’s confidence. Naia had fought in the tournament between schools. She was a competent wind mage. She should’ve had no trouble coming down the shaft.

Had Naia’s trouble with water manipulation spilled over into her air magic?

This isn’t good.

“That thing up there,” Amber looked up, then at Lisette. “I didn’t even feel it coming. It was moving in the spaces of the pattern. What was it?”

Lisette shook her head. “I don’t know. Growing up, there were always stories about mysterious creatures lurking in the mines.”

“It felt similar to something I saw in Heartwood once. Night crawlers. Kael knows about them.” Amber hugged herself.

“Can it come after us?” Naia asked.

Lisette’s shoulders tightened. She’d not experienced night crawlers herself. If you could fly, you could leave trouble like that behind.

Except she couldn’t take to the skies here, not underground. Could not escape the darkness. Could not even banish it anymore, not with her suns depleted.

“We shouldn’t wait to find out if it can,” said Tamsin briskly. “Amber, you said you’d found a way out. Let’s get going.”

“Don’t be surprised if the way out is a foot-wide hole,” Amber warned as she led the way through a tunnel branching off the main shaft. She’d found it with unerring precision, backed up by Naia’s ability to sense air currents. She went on, “I’m getting better at setting parameters, but the ghosts are still flimsy and unreliable.”

“An exit is an exit,” said Tamsin. “As long as there’s an opening, we can make it bigger. Unless–”

She broke off as they rounded a bend. Ahead of them was…

“Magic,” said Amber.

Light! thought Lisette.

Naia surged forward towards the bluish glow. “And…”

A musical tinkle came to their ears. Lisette realized how parched she was.

“Water!” exclaimed Naia, and the girls broke into a jog as the tunnel opened into a vast cavern.

Read Episode 5.

Author’s Note: Ah, a mysterious cavern deep in the mountains. Whatever could it be? (Actually, to be honest, I got a little tired of the whole wandering around in the dark thing. Hence, the cavern.) Also, Naia’s shakiness with both her old and her new magic is concerning. She’s hit the point where she’s past the beginner’s luck stage, started thinking too much about what she’s doing and how she’s doing it, and getting herself muddled up. The timing of this is not good, but in a story, when is it ever?? And…Happy Thanksgiving to US folks! I’m scheduling this in early November, but you’ll get to read it on Thanksgiving Day!

Tamsin startled. Hot water slopped out of the pot she held, over her hand and into the fire. She yelped.

Amber shot upright and tried to stand and run at the same time. It didn’t work too well. The pattern mage tripped over her own cloak and landed on her face in the mud.

Lisette’s bladed fans were in her hands. Adrenalin rushed through her body, banished the vestiges of sleep. She scanned the camp for danger.

Naia sat up and beat at her coverings. “Get it off me!” she yelled. Something reddish scuttled out of her bedroll and crouched beside a nearby rock.

Lisette’s gaze fixed on it. Definitely a salamander, and a big one at that, the length of her forearm. But…

Tell me it isn’t a half et!

“It was in my bed! Right next to my face!” Naia shuddered. She thrust herself away from her bedroll as if it housed an army of unwanted critters. A gust of air sent a boot flying towards the salamander. It struck the nearby rock.

The salamander made an alarmed clicking noise.

“Shut up a moment,” Lisette ordered. “And don’t move.”

“Easy for you to say. No slimy creature was cuddling up with you,” Naia grumbled, but she stopped flailing.

The rust-red creature held its neck and tail out, stiff and rigid. Colors shifted in its skin and a throbbing noise emanated from its throat.

“Uh, Lisette?” Naia asked nervously. “Why’s it glowing like that?”

“It’s taking in magic very quickly,” said Amber from behind Lisette. “It’s probably going to explode all over the campsite.” She sounded resigned.

Naia gave a muffled yelp. “Lisette, it’s getting bigger!”

“Stop putting weird ideas into her head, Amber.” Lisette slowly bent down and picked up a nearby twig. “It’s not going to explode.”

“Oh? Then what’s it going to do?”

Lisette eased over to Naia, then past her, approaching the salamander from the side. This close, she could see the tell-tale thickening of its skin, the hint of ridges beginning on the crown of its blunt-snouted head. She glanced at its tail. At least that hadn’t begun to detach. If it had…

“It’s going to divide,” Lisette admitted. “When threatened, a half et drops its tail, which grows into another salamander and runs away. The remaining body transforms and becomes more aggressive.”

“Just great,” muttered Naia, while Amber demanded, “Just how much more aggressive?”

Lisette winced. “The ‘attack everything in sight and fight to the death’ kind of aggressive.”

“I’d have preferred the explosion.” Naia sighed. Tamsin, holding a cannister, her other hand hovering over the tab, said, “I have a strong trap spell in here. Move out of the way, girls.”

Lisette shook her head. “Let me try de-escalating this first.” She sank down on her heels and began humming, the tune leaping from memory to lips with barely a stop at conscious thought. The half et turned its head towards her, its black eyes glaring.

She reached with the twig of maple leaves. Still humming, she brushed the creature’s back, stroking it over and over again in time to her wordless song. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Naia edging away.

The salamander’s throaty sound changed, matching the rhythm of her humming and stroking.

It was almost a purr.

Slowly, its angry red color faded to old rust. Its thickened hide became skin again, moist and glistening. Its body grew visibly smaller, its neck and tail relaxed.

It looked at Lisette out of beady eyes, then scuttled away on its sticky feet, whisking through leaf litter.

She let out a deep sigh.

 

“Stinging plants, hallucinogenic mushrooms, and rampaging monsters.” Naia beat aside a creeper that was sneakily trying to wrap its tendrils around her hair. “Anything else we should know about this place?”

They were back on the trail and moving quickly, despite their aches. Even Amber was keeping up. No one wanted to spend a moment longer in the forest than necessary.

Well, except maybe Lisette. It was scary, really, how the old instincts had come seeping back.

She shrugged. “If you leave stuff alone, it’ll leave you be.”

“I didn’t invite that salamander to share my sleeping bag,” Naia pointed out.

“No, but you’ve been using magic rather freely,” said Lisette. “That’ll attract most of the critters around here.” Her mind tossed up a splinter of memory, a sharp warning: You can’t use magic here. It’ll kill us all. She pushed it back down, ignoring the painful jab in her heart.

“Everything here is soaking up magic one way or another,” Amber broke in. She tilted her head up, though there was nothing to see through the canopy overhead. “We’re very near the Chaos here, aren’t we?”

“It’s over the mountains,” said Lisette. “It breaks through sometimes.”

Chaos was the wild magic that spread across the interior of the continent. It was too strong, too destructive for people to live in. Chaos changed people if they were caught out in it. Lisette had seen what it could do to plants and animals. And this was the Spines, where so many species had adapted to the proximity of Chaos.

A Chaos Storm in Carradia or Hampton would lay waste to everything.

“This is one of the highest magic areas people are capable of living in year-around,” Tamsin put in. A braided cord unwound from around her arm and smacked away a palm-sized spider with hairy legs and bright red eyes. “All the native species have a high resistance to magical change. Even the people have developed it over the generations.” She nodded towards Lisette.

Naia shuddered. “Why would anyone choose to live here?”

“They didn’t have much choice,” said Tamsin. “The settlers here are descendants of Frejalanders who fled their island after Mt. Ekla erupted. You know about that?”

Naia nodded. “The Summerless Year a couple of centuries ago.”

“Right. The surviving Frejalanders had to leave or starve. Some dispersed among other islands. Many others came to the continent, but it was far more dangerous back then. Between the wild magic, hostile natives, inimical wildlife, and their lack of preparation, many of the colonies died out. Some pushed further west, hoping to find better living conditions and dug themselves into the Greyridge Mountains. They made it work, too.” Admiration laced Tamsin’s tone. “They’re a remarkable people.”

A knot tightened in Lisette’s stomach. It was one thing to discuss the flora and fauna of the area, quite another to hear this text book summation of her people’s history. Even this brief account rubbed her raw.

Didn’t Tamsin remember what the Frejalanders did to make life in the Spines work?

But she said nothing, could say nothing past the lump in her throat. Lisette strode on at the head of the group, the conversation still continuing behind her back.

“I’m surprised this place worked for them,” commented Amber. “It’s chockful of magic.”

“Yes, it is. Magic’s been soaking into the ground for centuries,” Tamsin went on. “There are metal and stone and gems that are permanently magically charged. One of the more fascinating rocks blocks magic entirely.”

Lisette felt the phantom bite of suppression on her wrists, stinging and ice cold. She wouldn’t have called it fascinating.

“With these, we could industrialize magic on a scale never seen before,” Tamsin went on enthusiastically. “My clients are interested in acquiring mineral rights in this area, once we navigate the legal complexities. It’s hard to know who owns what—some of the Frejalander villages have legally recognized holdings, but most of these mountains is under a mix of different laws and treaties. Of course, my clients want everything to be as above board as possible.” Her voice grew distant.

Lisette realized she had quickened her pace, driving her heels into the dirt with unnecessary vigor.

She had also acquired a companion. Amber was close beside her, panting, but keeping up.

“What is it?” Lisette snapped.

Amber took a gulp of breath. “Just wanted… a change of scenery. Tired… lagging… behind.” The girl’s face was flushed.

Kael would not be happy if she killed the pattern mage. Lisette slowed, wondering how Amber saw the forest. Its aliveness wrapped Lisette around like a familiar blanket, smelling of wet earth and leaf litter. Its magic lay against her skin, a hair’s breadth from sparking.

“Also… wanted to see… how you were…” Amber grimaced and the word came out on a gasp. “…doing.”

“I’m fine,” said Lisette. “I’m just not interested in the history lesson. I already know all I want to about Frejalanders.” She squinted at a break in the trees up ahead. “Look, we’re almost at the camp.” She called back to Tamsin and Naia. “Look lively, you two! We’re here.”

Naia crowed and the entire party pressed up to the bare shoulder of the mountain. There Tamsin found another trail, this one steep and rocky, descending into a quarry stripped bare of all vegetation. Rubble heaps and rickety huts dotted the floor, and occasionally, a mine entrance yawned black behind several boards nailed across it.

As the girls found level ground, Tamsin led the way to a trio of huts that looked newer than the rest. The greasy static of magical spells prickled against Lisette’s skin.

“Something’s wrong.” Amber’s eyes narrowed. “The pattern’s been broken here, and recently. Spells are flapping loose.”

Tamsin broke into a jog, Lisette close behind her, every sense straining for danger. They ran up to the biggest hut of the group, the place that was supposed to have meant shelter and safety.

Tamsin checked in the doorway.

The interior was in shambles. Broken furniture and dented pots covered the floor. Crumpled, mud-stained papers had been trampled underfoot. Glass shards glittered near one wall.

Tamsin gripped the rope hanging in loops from her belt. Her cryst snapped on with a crackle of energy. “Record,” she said, and a lurid red light painted the inside of the hut. She moved in, scanning the room.

“No one’s home,” Amber said. “I don’t see any suns.”

“Any live people, you mean,” corrected Naia. Amber didn’t answer.

They found no bodies, dead or alive. The hut was composed of only three rooms, a central living area and two sleeping chambers. One of the chambers had obviously been occupied—it was still full of clothes and male sweat. The other was clean and bare—meant for Tamsin, they surmised. Not far from the hut was the outhouse and another flimsy structure that turned out to be the showers. Naia sighed with regret when they left it and returned to the debris in the hut.

“Any chance they just live like pigs and have gone out for a bit?” Naia asked Tamsin.

“They do live like pigs, but they wouldn’t have left broken glass lying around.” Tamsin plucked a ceramic shard from the debris and turned it in her fingers. “No, someone got to Stetson and Ray.”

“Can you track them?” Lisette asked Amber.

She shook her head. “If I knew them, or the direction they might’ve been taken, maybe I could pick up a trace outside the quarry. But something blasted the pattern in here and there are no threads to grab onto for a trail.” She grimaced. “Kael might’ve been able to do it, perhaps. He uses other senses.”

“What got to them, though?” Naia wondered, straightening a chair. It leaned drunkenly on its broken leg. “Those Frejalanders?”

“Frejalanders don’t use magic.” Lisette turned away to poke into a corner that had already been explored.

“We’ve been respectful of the villagers’ boundaries,” said Tamsin. “It could have been a rival company though. Some of them play dirty.” She crouched near the wall and pried up a floor board. “Ah, they didn’t find the samples.” She pulled up a rack full of stoppered test tubes, each containing a sliver of rock and labeled in spiky handwriting. She set it in front of her and began pulling out the stoppers.

“Uh, Tamsin, is this really the right time to be conducting experiments?” Naia asked.

“Yes.” Tamsin’s face was tight and focused. “We won’t stay the night; we’re too exposed. But I can’t leave without making sure I confirm Stetson’s findings.” She pulled out a small opaque bottle from a pouch and swiftly put three droplets of silver liquid in each tube.

Two tubes steamed, one sample turned blue. No effect in the next three. But the one after, labelled CV…

It shone.

Suspended in the thick liquid, what had looked like a piece of chalk now glowed like concentrated moonlight. Tamsin let out her breath, a smile of grim triumph curling her lips.

Amber spun towards the window. “Careful! It’s-!”

Magic surged around the hut. The air turned greasy, sparked electric. Lisette’s hair crackled and rose from her scalp.

There was no time to think, to plan, to create a defense.

“Get down!” Lisette yelled. Her wings snapped out, inviting. She braced her legs.

The roof blasted open and an electric bolt slammed into her.

Read Episode 4.

Author’s Note: Poor Lisette, ouch! And here’s where the “easy” job goes off the rails. Also, I went Icelandic for the inspiration behind Lisette’s people, the Frejalanders. Lisette’s got a bit of a valkyrie vibe going on with her, so it fits her character. Next time, things continue to get worse!