Auden and Ilain smiled slyly.
“It’s the ‘Psalm of Sigrid,’”the highlord said. “She was a Warrior Bonded to a Day Mage. The psalm was her mantra before a battle: ‘Into the fray, into the fight; With goodness and honor, with Allore’s might.’”
“We say it to remember why we fight,” Ilain said, a fire igniting in her eyes.
The sentiment settled into Deckard, and he found his lips turning up. He could do this. For Allore. For the people of Allund. For Evylin.
Turning back to the door, Deckard raised his hand. “Into the fray, then.”
The moment his hand pressed against the cold metal, a loudhisserupted. The lock popped free, and athunkresounded as the door began to slide open. On the other side was blackness.
Cautiously, Deckard and Evylin took the first steps into the infinity of the Space Keep.
The sky was black—pure, deep, rich black. So dark and whole that Deckard felt as though it might swallow him, like it could collapse and consume him into its nothingness. It stretched forever, so far ahead that Deckard didn’t think it could end. Only the faintest glimmer of refraction marked the division of floor and ceiling. Far in the distance, a glossy black obelisk loomed.
Deckard took one step down the staircase, and everything changed.
The Keep became alight with life. A vibrant green and blue nebula shattered the sky. Flashes of gold and ivory starlight tore into the blackness. The ground spun with a vortex of crimson and violet clouds, colors twisting into one another. It was startling. It was terrifying. It was mesmerizing.
And it all reflected under Deckard’s skin.
“Evylin,” he gasped so quietly he didn’t think she heard him.
His heart began to pound. His muscles trembled. His breath caught.
The vastness of Space, the boundless energy it possessed, the colossal magnitude of its form—it settled into his core, filling him with infinite power.
Deckard took another unintentional step forward, unaware of anything but the eruption of light, nebula, and life around him. Wordless whispers filled his ears. His heartbeat calmed, his muscles relaxed, and his lungs eased. He felt weightless and unworried.
Magic pressed in on him, collapsing into his form. It pulled at him, twisting and tearing through his body like those clouds and starlight. It demanded everything he was, down to the most infinitesimal part of himself. The infinity of Space wanted it all.
“Evylin,” he murmured again, fumbling for her hand this time. He made contact but couldn’t control his limbs enough to grab hold. He was too consumed, too overcome by the sights around him and the feelings within.
He heard Evylin curse under her breath and knew she was likely feeling the overwhelming sensations radiating out of him as well. Then she was there before him, taking hold of his face. “Jonn,” she called, but he couldn’t look at her. He was too overcome by the Space Keep’s grandiosity, by its beauty. “Jonn, what’s going on?”
Deckard felt his brows pinch together. “I can feel it,” he whispered.
“Feel what?”
“What’s wrong?” Thom asked at their side.
Deckard could sense the presence of their team, but he was too distracted to pay attention. More nebulae, more stars, more clouds, more infinity erupted before his eyes. A blend of awe and indifference filled him. He couldn’t find the ability to move.
“I can’t tell,” Evylin was saying to Thom, her grip tightening on Deckard as she worked to get his attention. “He’s feeling something—something intensely powerful—but...I can’t tell what it is.”
Hearing the worry in her tone, Deckard’s heart managed to overpower the compulsion within him. He met her amber-brown eyes. They reminded him of the shadows cast from the green and blue nebulae above them. He smiled and brushed a tender hand along her cheek. “Everything,” he said.
She gaped up at him, confused. “What?”
“I feel everything.”
Auden swore and rushed forward, pushing Thom out of the way. He grabbed Deckard’s collar to get his attention, but Deckard could only stare at the sky around him. “Jonn, listen to me,” the Day Mage ordered. “You can’t give in to it. If you access your magic now, it’s going to take over, and you can’t sustain that. Not in here.”
A chorus of concerned questions filled the air like the stars that pieced the sky around them. Deckard couldn’t understand their worry. Why weren’t they as mesmerized as he was? The sky was overwhelmed with galaxies, the power within compelling him. He couldn’t stop what was happening to him any more than he could act. He was locked in a stalemate of everything and nothing.
While the others pressed Auden for answers, Evylin yanked Deckard’s collar, forcing him to look at her. “I need you to focus, Jonn,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, but you need to clear it and focus on me, understand? Don’t think about the Keep. Think about me.”
Deckard blinked. Flares of starlight reflected in her eyes. He cupped her face, grasping for the clarity she offered. It was easy to think about Evylin. She was all he wanted to think about anyway. Her cleverness, her beauty, her smile, her strength, her perfection: She was everything. What else could he think about?
