As he began to convulse, his mouth opened and the blackness that had been suffocating him spewed upward. The witch leaned forward, capturing it in the crystal orb.
Bolder collapsed into the chair, heaving with distress. His eyes watered from the pain coursing through his head. Saldusa held the crystal out to Blackheart who took it and stared into the fog of memories.
Flames licked the interior of the orb as it showed a girl glowing with an ethereal power as she confronted Bolder and his men. Behind her, others stood at the ready, and from the ground, a mammoth tiger with fierce blue eyes emerged like a God.
“Are they Nali’s creatures?” Blackheart asked his sister.
“Nay. These beings come not from our world,” Saldusa murmured, her eyes glowing.
Blackheart turned to look at him. “You say there are more?”
Bolder nodded. “Yes, my Lord. The Pirate King and Queen have two staying with them at the palace. Two young girls. Word is they appeared out of the heavens and fell at the King’s feet.”
Blackheart studied the orb with a thoughtful expression. ”Saldusa, pay the thief.”
“With pleasure, my Lord.”
Bolder started to rise, grinning with avarice before he froze as Saldusa lifted the filmy veil over her pale eyes and stared at him.
“No, please, my Lord. I’ll serve you,” Bolder choked out as his tongue thickened.
Fear gripped him as salt crystals crusted over his skin. The thief was gone. In his place stood a statue of salt.
Blackheart turned the orb slowly in his hand, the faint glow from its core casting an eerie green shimmer over his half-rotted features. Within its swirling fog, the girl shimmered—glowing like starlight, her power radiant, raw. A lesser man might have flinched. He narrowed his eyes in deep thought.
“Such power in one so young,” he rasped. “A phoenix rising from the ashes. A tool of the Goddesses. A Guardian.”
The knowledge coiled through his mind like seaweed dragged from the deep. He had heard whispers of such creatures. A weaver of portals. A champion. A meddler. But he hadn’t expected this. She was power incarnate. And power… could be harnessed.
He tapped his claw against the orb.
“She glows with the magic of ancients,” he muttered. “Older than Nali’s tricks. Older than you, sister.”
Saldusa’s spine stiffened beside him. Her long, talon-like fingers curled as her lips twisted in disdain. “No child is more powerful than I,” she said, her voice sharp as cut obsidian.
Blackheart turned to her, his fearsome brow arching. “You sound unsure.”
“I am insulted,” Saldusa snapped, her slanted pupils flashing. “My magic is carved from death and the darkest regions of the isles. She is nothing but a girl playing with the universe’s scraps.”
“Yet you tremble when you see her,” Blackheart murmured, his voice soft but dangerous.
Saldusa’s eyes narrowed to slits, but she said nothing.
Good.
He didn’t need her pride. He needed her fear. It kept her sharp.
His gaze dropped again to the orb. The vision shifted. The ethereal girl faded, replaced by the image of two laughing figures tumbling from the sky in a funnel of light. Both were young, wild, and utterly carefree.
So, these are the ones staying at the palace. They do not have the power of the other. They are defenseless.
His gaze hardened.
The others were scattered, but if he had two… he would have leverage.
The rest would come. He would pull them in like fish to bait—and the power of the Guardian would be his.
Blackheart stood slowly, his long coat swirling like seaweed. The room quieted at the click of his clawed hand. His captains filtered back in, summoned by the sound, each more monstrous than the next.
