Page 203 of A Courage of the Chosen

Elsie grounds her feet, spreading them evenly apart, and I copy her movements. When she closes her eyes, I do the same.

She’s all I can sense as I follow her into our power. Tethered by our souls, and the bond that exists as a result of our magic, we fall down, down, down.

When we near the bottom of my capabilities, depleted from the fight, the Craobh Beatha stirs to life in my hand, and my stomach drops beneath me as I’m connected to a limitless magic that rests in the earth.

Energy surges back through us. The tiredness and aches I’d felt a moment ago evaporate, my wounds heal, and our powers become one.

My light and mist becomes hers, and everything she possesses becomes mine. The Dorche magic in her is cold, but also entirely her, and I welcome the way ice floods through my body as it swirls through my veins.

“I love you, mo sholas.” I tell her, as our collective beings continue to gather energy and power.

“I love you, too, Cal. Always.”

My eyes open at the same time as hers, and my vision is covered in a film of white that paints the magic permeating through Elfayne. Light and dark exist everywhere. Not apart, but together, and for the first time, I understand just how special she is. The magic within her can be nothing but good, if it’s what our very world is made up of.

Elsie is encased head-to-toe in our combined force, her body glowing like rays of pure sunshine ribboned in the blanket of night. She’s a bright vision, leading us all into a new age. Through the magic, there’s a small smile on her mouth, and the sadness in her eyes that mirrors mine.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

I have no idea how she knows what to do, but I’ll follow her instincts gladly.

“I’m ready,” I tell her.

Static surges through us, and we begin to drift high into the air, until we’re directly over the center of the dome containing thousands of Brollachan. Every last Seelie that has been turned now beneath us.

Elsie glances down briefly and swallows once. “Now.”

She’s the first to move, sending her almighty power rippling into the structure of her making. It shudders and morphs, shrinking as endless energy flows from her down into it.

The soldiers watching at the sidelines ready their weapons, not knowing she won’t allow any more of them to be harmed. They’re safe with her.

“I need you,” she whispers.

Straightening my spine, I let my magic follow hers.

The Brollachans’ howling turns into wild screeching, and their talons attempt to shred Elsie’s barrier that’s now the conduit for taking their lives. Forks of light spear through their cores, killing them instantly. Elsie and I sense every single one of their deaths as hundreds fall at a time, and the half-sphere grows smaller with each wave that falls.

Together, we free the Seelie corrupted by Raghnall and Tavish from their prisons. The air around us grows colder, as though the number of souls passing on is turning it arctic.

I hold Elsie’s gaze the entire time, bringing my other hand to rest on top of hers. It only takes a matter of minutes, but with each one that passes, this act grows in heaviness for us both.

I’ve never taken pleasure in killing, and I know Elsie finds the idea repulsive. But this is the only way to end their torture, and make sure no one else falls victim to this corruption. It’s the singular comfort that allows us to continue funneling more of our essence down, until there’s no one in that dome left alive.

When we lower to the ground, the necessary done, our armies are watching with wide, awestruck eyes. The hillside is coated in a layer of thick black ash, and the bones of those who lost their lives to the selfishness of one man.

Elsie recalls all of her magic back into her core, releasing my hands as her light armor recedes away.

It’s over.

I turn my head away from the charred remains and lift my face to the sun. The rays soak into my skin with my wife by my side, and the taste of freedom on my tongue.

It’s finally over.

Once we find and kill Tavish, this realm will be free to truly heal.

Elsie slips an arm around my waist, and I weave mine over her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as I whisper, “Never again.”

She angles her chin to look up at me. “Never again.” She returns my kiss with a light one of her own at the corner of my mouth.