“Too big a risk.” I didn’t know what I was doing last time. Now, there’s no excuse. Disturbing the dead, pulling a creature from rest, feels like an abomination of everything right in the world, even without the magic being in question.
Kalan can bring the Jarkoreth that still protects the forest. That will have to be enough. But I know that’s a hope, and not the defence we need.
Raiden doesn’t move from her spot, every angle of her body challenging me. “More will die if we can’t stop him, right? And if we die fighting those monsters,” she points to the mountains, where the Sur’gos look like they’re gaining ground, fast, “there’s nobody to check him.”
I turn around, weighing the options, searching for another way. Any other way.
“Ever!” Raiden shouts at me.
I look at Kyra and head to her. “Will you help? You always grounded me. You taught me how to control the magic. I need that more than anything now. Because this magic is not the same. I need?—”
“Yes, yes, it’s okay, Ever.” She takes my hand. “Just like we’re back in your room, okay?” She nods at me, as if we’re not standing in a field of snow waiting for monsters to attack.
An ear-splitting shriek disturbs all of us. The noise reverberates right down to my bones, as if the cry is meant to put us all on edge. I’ve not even seen these creatures, and I already hope I never will.
“They’re coming!” Lyle shouts.
“We need more help, Ever,” Raiden rallies again. “We can’t fight the Sur’gos alone.”
I grab the brooch under my shirt and squeeze my hand around it, grasping it tightly, as if it really is a magical talisman that can protect me: body and soul.
I guess we’ll find out.
“I’ll do it. But alone. Kyra will keep me focused.”
“Ever, you…” Ten starts.
“It’s the only option.” I cut him off. “I won’t have you defenceless.”
He stares down at me, and I can see all his protests flicker over his face. He knows I’m right. Raiden is right.
“Let us help you, Ever.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need touch. And I’m not sure how my power will respond in the Usher’s darkness.” I think back to standing on the edge of that cliff, looking out over the ocean, Selena’s magic roiling inside of me. Novandia’s magic is so much more volatile and quicker to react than the power bestowed by his sister. I pictureherpower, her strands of magic, weaving through me, flowing through me, and I begin to concentrate, even if they are blocked from me.
The Maker said I can’t be bound. I am the vessel for Aslendrix, and that’s what I need to be—right fucking now. I hold the will to do this and not succumb in my mind—in my heart—and sink to the ground.
It’s my will. Good, not evil.
I’ve done this. I can do this.
My fingertips press into the snow and dig into the cold soil before I take a deep breath. Every single time I used my power in Nehandun, I was emotional, and the strength that gave me caused me to doubt the words the Maker said to me. But if I can master my fear and dominate it, maybe my power can be calm and strong: the two sides. I have to be strong to pull this off. Strong and sure.
But the vision in my mind of raising the Jarkoreth before doesn’t help, and the flow of energy is temperamental, as if it won’t be ruled and wants to be unbound by my will and run free. Wild.
The Usher described the Gods as fighting children, and I feel that in the way of the power inside of me—the same power that didn’t want to mix with my brother—doesn’t want to obey now. It doesn’t want to work or answer to me.
Because I am calm. I am balanced.
The smell hits me first. The pungent smell of rotting foliage and plants, dredging up and turning the ground around us into the bog that we created in the forest.
It is working. Slowly.
“Deep breath, Ever. Don’t force it. Let it flow.” Kyra is right by my side. But it’s the flow of energy I’m afraid of.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I focus on the centre of my chest, the energy, and will it to obey. But there is nothing more than the decaying detritus around me, bubbling up and staining the snow with a thick tar-like poison.
Sweat starts to bead over my forehead despite the cold, and my growing frustration wars with my magic. And then I feel the pressure on my hands.
