Page 53 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
“One. Two…”
On three, we touched our wands to the Thread Stone. The effect was immediate and startling. A surge of magic rushed through me, so powerful it nearly took my breath away. My runes sparked to life beneath my shirt, glowing bright enough that their blue light was visible even through the fabric.
Across from me, Rosalyn gasped, her wings fluttering fast to help her keep her balance, shedding a cascade of glittering dustthat seemed to be drawn toward the stone. Her entire body took on a soft pink glow, just as when we’d made love.
The memory of that night sent another pulse of magic through me, and the Thread Stone responded, its glow intensifying.
“Focus,” Kellen reminded us. “Visualize the Ley lines straightening. Bjorn, pull the frayed energy toward you. Rosalyn, be ready to thread the magic!”
I closed my eyes, picturing the twisted magical currents we’d seen on the map. In my mind, I reached for them, using my natural talent for fixing things to identify precisely where they had kinked and distorted. I could feel Rosalyn’s magic on the other side of the stone, warm and vibrant like summer sunshine, while mine was calm and steady like a mountain stream. I worked hard, my heart pounding and my body sweating as I strained to pull the lines together. My footing fumbled as the stray stands sought to tear away from me and the wand.
“Steady,” Kellen called. “Steady.”
I heard the dryad speaking his people’s tongue, and suddenly, my connection to the earth felt firmer, more rooted.
“I almost have it,” I said, pulling the strands back into one massive, glowing blue-and-gold line of power, which sparked and bucked, wanting to rip away from me. But the wand kept it in line.
I took slow, deliberate steps as I tried to redirect the nearly combined lines toward the thread stone. The magic was chaos, wanting to pull away. I found myself straining, tugging at the power. I recited the runic enchantments over and over again.
On the other side of the stone, Rosalyn began to speak her own spells. I didn’t know what charms they were, but they were light and airy, appearing like glimmering pink butterflies, the scent of cookies, scones, and baked bread drifting faintly toward me.
With my muscles straining, I pulled the magic into line and directed it through the Thread Stone.
“Rosalyn!” I called out to her in a warning.
The Ley lines slipped through the stone. When they did so, they intertwined once more. The air around us shimmered with magical energy.
“It’s working!” Rosalyn exclaimed, holding her wand before her, pulling the magic through. But even as she spoke, the magic began to surge unpredictably. The beam of light splintered into a dozen smaller beams that shot off in different directions. Nearby plants suddenly sprouted flowers that bloomed and wilted in seconds. The ground beneath our feet trembled.
“Hold steady, Rosalyn!” Kellen called, extending his arms. “Bjorn, steady the magic. Keep it in line. Hold onto it for Rosalyn.” Kellen recited enchantments loudly, green energy flowing from his hands, grounding the wild energy that bucked and kicked, yearning to break free. “Both of you hold on. The Ley lines are resisting!”
Kellen was right. I could feel a stubborn resistance as if the magic had grown accustomed to its disrupted state and was fighting our attempts to change it. Sweat beaded on my brow as I channeled more power into the Thread Stone.
“Rosalyn,” I called to her, “we need more! You must pull harder.”
She nodded, her face a mask of concentration. Her wings beat rapidly, generating more glittering dust that seemed to amplify the magic. The pink glow around her brightened, and I felt a surge in her magical output.
But the Ley lines resisted.
I could see the strain on Rosalyn’s face.
I needed more magic. I had to hold the line to make it safer for Rosalyn.
Making up my mind, I drew upon the deep wells of magic Ineveraccessed—the power that came with my royal blood. All royal family members carried special magic, but I never used mine. It was notme. I was notthat. But now…to protect her, I dipped into that magic.
It responded at once.
My runes blazed brighter than ever, no longer just visible through my shirt but burning through the fabric itself, revealing the intricate patterns that marked me as a prince of the royal house of Frostfjord.
Rosalyn fluttered faster now and began to sing, her voice soft and welcoming. I didn’t understand her words—they were pixie—but I guessed it to be one of her people’s ancient songs. The aura around her softened, the forest floor blazing with flowers of every color. The air shimmered gold. Magical butterflies fluttered around her. It was a scene of beauty. Rosalyn’s hair blazed bright red, the strands pulsing like living rubies. It was…mesmerizing.
The resistance suddenly gave way, like a knot finally coming untied.
The beam of light from the Thread Stone stabilized, taking on a prismatic quality. Through the hole in the center of the stone, I could see the Ley line finally weaving itself back together without resistance.
“The Ley line!” Kellen exclaimed. “It’s realigning!”
A huge smile crossed Rosalyn’s face.
