Page 10 of The Illuminated
He handed me my unfinished glass as we stood in silence, Clarice suddenly nowhere to be found. I watched myself down the rest of the drink in the mirror as if I was watching someone else, a woman who looked like me, moved like me, but at her core was someone else entirely. It would’ve disturbed me if not for the creeping warmth that spread along my skin, infecting my mind with thoughts only of pleasure, of love, and of magick. Everything good in the world, and everything good in myself. There was no room left for pain or uncertainty, just as I’d desired.
The woman in the mirror smiled. She let the King take her hand and twirl her around, let his eyes travel down the length of her body.
She let him transport her somewhere else, and they spilled out into the new environment like co-conspirators.
Chapter4
Lucius and I stood in a section of the gardens I’d not yet explored. It was an open field, encased by hedges on all sides except the farthest from the castle, which was lined with tall, darkened trees. It was the deadened forest that surrounded the castle, separating us from the rest of the King’s City beyond. It was also home to the mysterious clearing with the dark altar.
But I didn’t think about any of that, not as Lucius and I played with the boundaries of our magick in a frenzy of experimentation and intrigue. My mind was light and unburdened, unable to perceive the darkness that lurked all around us like stalking shadows.
“This is where Daelon trains new soldiers and guards,” Lucius explained. “And where he was trained, before that.”
I was barely listening to him, enjoying myself far too much as I whispered spells into the air. I watched as birds made of white light took shape, flying all around us before melting back into pure energy.
Lucius watched me with a curious glint in his eyes, scrutinizing as if he wasn’t sure what to make of me. “Are you quite entertained?”
When I grinned, he squinted at me and shook his head. Was I really acting so different? I couldn’t tell. All I could feel was the liquid gold pumping beneath my skin, the gold fabric above it, and the soft, golden rays of the sun as it disappeared under the horizon.
“Why’s the forest dead?” I asked, giggling when Lucius shot an icy black curse of thick smoke in my direction. I concentrated, transforming the smoke into a wispy white cloud, mesmerized as it passed me and dissipated back into the air.
It was like playing catch, but with curses!
Lucius shook his head again, strangely looking like he was trying not to laugh. “An unfortunate byproduct of a rather powerful spell.”
“Why haven’t you fixed it?”
He stepped forward, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side.
“Ohhhh,” I said, dragging the sound out like taffy. I lifted my shimmering skirt as I walked forward to meet him. “Because youcan’t.”
“Nor do I care much to,” he said defensively, rolling his eyes. “You’re very intoxicated, little witch.”
“Stop calling me that,” I snapped, perhaps foolishly emboldened.
“And yet you let Daelon,” he shot back. There was that look again, like he wanted to tease a truth out of me, like he wanted to quell the doubts that Nathaniel had rooted in his mind.
“I wish I hadn’t,” I said quietly, mirroring his crossed arms.
Lucius seemed to buy my reaction, though I could taste the curiosity blooming in his aura even more clearly now that I could block out all the darkness. As if he wanted to know more about Daelon and me but wasn’t sure how to ask.
“Can I fix it?” I asked, jumping back into the current of thoughtless escapism. I had to keep up this game of hide and seek from my emotions, terrified of what awaited when they finally found me.
Lucius looked out to the dark trees, something deep opening up in his aura like a shattered barrier. His cool blue eyes softened. “You may try.”
I stepped toward the forest that was burnt to a crisp, reading its hollowness as an invitation to breathe life into its mournful void. My intuition whispered to me with clarity; this place used to be beautiful. It used to have trees that were tall and bound together through an intricate and sacred labyrinth of tangled roots and limbs. It used to be filled with rabbits and deer the color of light brown tree bark, birds the color of red berries and fall leaves. There were other, more mysterious creatures and happenings in these woods, born from the remnants of magick and manifestation—beings that glowed in the dark and moved like dandelion wisps—or amphibious monsters that hid in the rivers, lying in wait for the unsuspecting witch.
I could see the vision in my mind’s eye so clearly it was nearly a hallucination, and I knew that whatever happened with Lucius at that altar years ago caused the forest’s destruction. A magickal perversion took root, killing off everything natural and beautiful in its wake.
I held tight to the vision, raising power from the ground beneath my bare feet, the wind as it blew my hair back behind my shoulders, the water that had once flowed through this land but had since dried up, and the fire that had scorched these barren trees. I felt a new channel open up inside my power, one I was to use over and over again until the entire realm was restored.
It was the frequency of return. What this land lost had been given to me, long ago, and it yearned for me to release it back from whence it came. It was never mine, and as I channeled deeper, I began to realize that maybe none of my power ever truly belonged to me. I was just holding it, for a time.
I braced myself as my palms outstretched, digging my toes into the dewy grass beneath me. An enormity of raw power swam through the crown of my head and out of my fingers, shooting out in an explosion of light and sound. It was a roaring hum, and then great cracking, crackling, and hissing as my visions began to manifest. Tree trunks strengthened and grew tall, my magick painting them back to their original light brown color with wide brushstrokes. Some sprouted red berries, while others grew brown and golden leaves, and others still lay barren in the cool winter air. While the castle’s gardens were kept in a magickal greenhouse of eternal spring, winter still raged naturally beyond its borders, just as it was intended.
I winced with the effort, all of my magickal exertion finally catching up to me even in this storm of pleasurable release. When I could channel no longer, my hands dropped to my sides as I caught my breath. I looked out in amazement at my work, the forest alive once more in a melody of colors and movement. Branches and leaves rustled, and I could faintly make out the babbling of some kind of stream.
I pressed my hands into my diaphragm, forcing air into my lungs as lightheadedness sent splotches to my vision.
