Dare she?
She steeled herself, staring out into the blue-tinted darkness of the mountain hideaway.
One of the mountainsides was a softer incline, jagged rocks jutting out like stairs. She walked toward them and began to climb.
Her body shook from exertion, but she shoved the feelings away. She could do this.
She pulled herself up from the hidden falls, coming to rest on a rocky ledge with a higher vantage point. Her eyes widened as a tremulous sound of shock fell from her lips.
"No."
The Isles were still too far away to see through the cavernous passages of the rocks. But she could see the smoke. The golden spark of a distant fire—too grand to be from something small.
The Isles wereburning.
With the dagger in one hand, she placed her other hand on her breastbone, let her eyes drift closed, and dove deep within herself to find the source of that mercurial magic.
It danced away from her, elusive. She gritted her teeth, imagining wrapping her hands around it and yanking it up, up, up, andout?—
She gasped, eyes shooting open as she fell forward. The dagger clattered from her hand as her palms fell on the rocks to steady herself.
Luella’s breathing was loud. She lifted her head, somehow already knowing what she’d see.
Thick green vines and roots crawled from the rock, twisting on the ground. A root snaked over her ankle. She reached for it, and tiny flowers bloomed.
Luella closed her eyes in frustration. "It’s not enough."
She tried to wrap her invisible hands back around her magic, but it seemed to have burrowed deep inside her skin, nestling among her organs as if to hide from her. With every thump of her heart, she felt it retreat deeper and deeper. Until she no longer felt it.
But the vines didn’t dissolve.
The flower petals wavered in the wind as if to inspirit her.
She brushed her fingertip over one. It was a delicate blue shade, the tips white. Like the clouds and sea, when her storms weren’t turning them dark and angry.
A soft sound prickled at her back. She stiffened.
It sounded like?—
Pebbles skittering down the mountainside.
Slowly, Luella turned her head, staring into the darkness.
Something sharp pricked her fingertip, and she gasped, turning back to the flowers to find thick thorns jutting from the vines and roots. A small dot of blood beaded at the tip of her finger, dripping down the side to fall to the stone.
The vines curled and lengthened. She knew she was doing it, but she didn’t feel anything at all. As if she had breathed life into them, and now they were sentient.
The roots grew thicker until they wrapped around where she sat, as if to cocoon her.
Another sound. Louder this time.
The hair at her nape stood on end. She was aware, suddenly, of how exposed she was now that she’d left the safety of the hideaway.
A low laugh filled the night air, and she stood sharply, dagger in hand, as she spun, searching for the source.
Shadows undulated on the ground, growing nearer. The dagger shook in her hand. From the darkness, a male appeared, as if crafted from nothingness. Not a Fallen. He had brown hair, eyes black as pitch, and a sinister smile.
"The Tenebrae sends his regards," said the Umbra.
