And I know he’d do anything for me—anything I ever asked—except for the one thing I most need.
He won’t say the words.
He won’t promise me I’ll never lose him.
Thirty
ANSEL
It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. Dangerous too—there’s no doubt about that. But I was so, so close to getting the wand. How can I walk away now?
Certain she’s asleep again, I take another dose of the potion and fall back into the realm. It’s easier the second time, and with minutes I find myself right back at the bottom of the Cauldron, searching the walls for the crevice that will lead me to—
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ansel.”
I turn on my heel, the sight before me bringing tears to my eyes.
Awe. Fear. Joy. All of it swirls inside me, making my blood sing.
Standing before me is a druid dressed in a crisp white tunic and green cape, his hood drawn low. There’s an ancient horn hanging from a rope around his waist, and in his hand, he holds a staff so tall and powerful, it’s almost as if it’s growing right out of the earth itself.
I know at once it’s the Wand of Flame and Fury.
Just like I know, despite his presently clean appearances, this is Dark Judgment, the evil druid who feasts on babies and torments witches and mages until they can hardly tell the difference between reality and fear.
Everything in me is screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something other than stand here.
But suddenly my lips are moving, forming words I don’t even remember thinking.
“I’ve been… waiting for you too,” I say. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I mean them. From the bottom of my very soul, I mean them.
The druid smiles, his sharp teeth flashing like metal in the sun. Logically I know that nothing about this moment is right, but I can’t force myself to walk away.
Itfeelsright.
“You’ve come for this, I presume?” He tips the staff forward, the tip glowing red, captivating me.
I try to keep a neutral expression, but it’s too late. My desire is too raw, too primal. My hands itch to grasp it, to feel its potency, to feed it with my own magick.
He knows I want it.
“The Sun Arcana is associated often with twins,” he says. “So, too, are you a twin. Not with a sibling, but deep within your own soul. Light and darkness, flame and shadow.” He raises the staff, and the smoke choking the sky finally clears, revealing a sunrise so bright I have to shield my eyes. “All exist for us, at all times. But our true power lies neither in the light nor the dark, but in the spaces between, like potential energy gathering, preparing to leap from one to the other, an endless, eternal dance…”
He’s rambling, but I’m not paying attention to the words. I’m watching the staff, my heart beating in sync with the red flame pulsing at the tip.
I don’t even realize he’s stopped talking until the darkness descends, smoke blotting out the sun once again.
I blink up at the sky, only to realize it’s not the smoke at all.
The sun has set. Night has fallen. I’ve been standing here for hours, completely entranced.
Judgment seems to understand that I’ve come to this realization, and he nods sagely, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I flinch instinctively, but his touch isn’t frightening or painful. It’s warm. Welcoming.
It feels like a promise of more to come.
Baffled, I look up to meet his gaze.
