I nodded stiffly, then turned to go. I'd taken only a few steps when his voice stopped me again.
"Fenric? You don't have to figure it all out tonight. Just maybe stop fighting it so hard?"
I glanced back at him, this young necromancer with his uncommon wisdom and open heart. "I'll take your suggestion under advisement."
His smile told me he recognized the concession for what it was. "Good night, Fenric."
"Good night, Milo."
I continued along the path toward the cabin, my thoughts still turbulent but somehow less oppressive than before. As I approached the darkened structure, I paused, looking up at the window I knew to be Winter's. No light showed, but I could sense her presence, a warm pulse of prophetic energy that called to something deep within me.
The Harbinger belongs to all.
Perhaps it was time I stopped running from what that might mean.
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Zane
"Iknow a trail that's perfect for your knee," I announced over breakfast, watching Winter savor her second cup of coffee. The morning light through the cabin windows caught the subtle blue glow of her markings, a reminder of everything extraordinary about her beneath the ordinary moment. "Easy grade, incredible views, and magical leyline activity that'll make your hair stand on end."
Winter perked up, her gray eyes brightening. "A hike?" She glanced toward the kitchen where Fenric was meticulously organizing the food supplies. "Think our Bureau babysitter will approve?"
"Fenric's going into town with Rook for supplies," I winked conspiratorially. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
Milo bounded in from the porch, his curls wild from the mountain breeze. "Did I hear something about a hike? Can I come? Jeffrey's been dying to see some mountain flora."
"The more the merrier," I smiled, unable to resist his enthusiasm. "Just you, me, Winter, and a tiny skeleton with botanical interests. What could possibly go wrong?"
"Don't jinx it," Winter groaned, but her smile remained. "I'm just enjoying not being actively hunted by cultists for five minutes."
An hour later, we set off along a winding trail that hugged the lakeshore before climbing gently into the surrounding forest. The morning was perfect, crisp mountain air, sunlight dappling through pine branches, and the distant call of birds creating a soundtrack that soothed something ancient in my soul.
Winter walked between us, her steps careful but steady, the walking stick I'd found for her easing the strain on her bad knee. She looked more relaxed than I'd seen her in weeks, her face turned up to catch patches of sunlight filtering through the canopy.
"So these leylines," Milo piped up, gesturing excitedly as he walked. "Are they like magical highways? I've read about them but never actually experienced one up close. Do they affect necromantic energy? Because Jeffrey says he feels tingly." He held up his tiny skeleton, who appeared to be vibrating slightly.
"They're more like rivers than highways," I ducked under a low-hanging branch. "Natural channels where magical energy flows through the earth. This area has a particularly strong convergence, three major lines intersect about a mile ahead."
"Hence the hair-raising part," Winter grinned. "Should I be worried about my prophetic markings going haywire? Because I've got enough magical unpredictability in my life already."
I shook my head. "The leylines here are stabilized by the town's wards. They'll enhance your awareness of your markings, maybe make them tingle a bit, but they won't trigger anything dangerous."
"Famous last words," she muttered, but her smile took the sting from it.
As we climbed higher, the forest gradually thinned, revealing glimpses of the valley below. The lake sparkled in the distance, our cabin a tiny speck on its shore. The trail curved around a rocky outcropping, opening onto a small ridge that offered a breathtaking panoramic view.
"Wow," Winter came to a stop beside me. "This is incredible."
The vista stretched for miles, mountains rising in the distance, the valley a patchwork of forests and meadows, the lake a perfect blue mirror reflecting the cloudless sky. But what made the spot truly special was visible only to those with magical sensitivity: the leylines, glowing faintly like luminescent rivers beneath the earth's surface, converging at a point just below our ridge.
"I can see them," Milo whispered in awe. "The leylines. They're...they're beautiful."
Winter nodded, her eyes wide. "Like veins of light under the world."
I smiled, pleased by their reaction. "This is one of my favorite spots. Found it after a demon hunt about seventy years ago. The convergence creates a kind of natural sanctuary, most malevolent entities can't stand the harmonized energy."
