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Drakkon swallowed at that crazed look in her eyes. She had a plan, and he wasn’t sure he was going to like it.
Chapter Fifteen
Phoenix stood on thetip of the pentagram she had hastily drawn with chalk on their bedchamber floor, eyeing the claw that Eilea held while standing in the center of the star. Phoenix prayed her idea worked, for she had a feeling this claw did more than enhance magic, and that it held the key to sending Eilea and Tor home. Hecate, Tor, Cadmus, and Damon made up the rest of the five points while Helius and Drakkon stood behind her, possessive hands on her back and shoulders.
Hecate scattered herbs across the star, and together they clasped hands and whispered “reserare” three times.
A tense hush fell about the room, and Phoenix feared she would be sick.
Please work. Please work. Please work.
A giant thunderclap rent the air, followed by the sound of gently falling rain. She looked around the room, met with equally startled faces, for the room was still dry. A breeze blew into the room from the open terrace doors, lifting the curtains into the air like billowing sails. Then another breeze blew directly down onto their heads, swirling her robes at her feet before lifting her hair off her neck and straight in the air. She gasped when she looked up into a white funnel that had materialized in the center of the ceiling. It sucked blankets off the bed and rugs from the floor like they were under the nozzle of a giant vacuum.
And then she was flailing through the portal, gasping when she was pulled apart from her mates. She landed with a hardthud, pain lancing up her shoulder. She couldn’t see a thing beyond the white mist that obscured her vision. She heard her mates calling to her and called back, relieved when Helius lifted her up and held her steady in a waist-high white mist that flowed across them like a swiftly moving river. Her other mates found them, as well as Hecate, Eilea, and Tor.
The soft light that reflected off the mists appeared to be coming from everywhere. The sky above mirrored the mists below. She sucked in a gulp of cool, refreshing air as dew drops gathered on her arm. Her arm! Gone was the coppery luster. She once again had her mother’s Persian complexion. Eilea had transformed back into her human skin, though she was still wearing the gown Hecate had given her for the celebration.
Had it worked? Had they transported to Valhol?
Tor scratched the back of his head. “This looks like it could be Valhol.” He pointed to a thin, dark line of trees in the distance. “This way.”
Phoenix assumed he was using instinct to guide them. Tor’s instincts had never been wrong before, so they followed him up an incline, the flowing mist dropping to just over their ankles as the trees ahead took shape, tall pines with twinkling lights, like an entire forest of Christmas trees.
A feminine figure in a dark, hooded robe moved toward them like she was being carried by a cloud. Once she was within a stone’s throw, she pulled down her hood, revealing a beautiful witch with alabaster skin, violet eyes rimmed with silver, and hair that shone like iridescent midnight.
Phoenix knew it had to be the Amaroki goddess, Amara, for she could feel the thrum of her powerful magic vibrating the marrow of her bones.
Tor and Eilea both bowed before the goddess. Hecate, on the other hand, bowed up like she was ready to do battle, eyeing Amara through slitted lids. Phoenix’s mates stood protectively around her as if they expected the goddess to turn into Gorgo.
“Please don’t bow for me.” Amara laughed, her smile warm and welcoming. She motioned to the forest behind her. “Welcome to Valhol.” Then she shared a warm hug with Eilea.
Hecate softened her stance, and Phoenix’s mates gave her a quarter inch more breathing room.
“Thank you, goddess,” Eilea said, handing her the claw. “This saved our souls.”
She turned the claw over in her hands. “I’m glad it served its purpose.”
