Page 114 of Witchlight
Slowly, achingly, he rose. And the land that had been his home for so long now sharpened into detail around him. Fir trees and spruce. Snow. Mountains, craggy and harsh against a gray sky. He had never thought it beautiful when he’d been trapped inside the watery prison. Now, he was struck by how beautiful it really was.
“What a gentle awakening compared to the others,” came a voice Nadje knew. Then there was the figure attached to it, materializing out of the Dreaming only a few paces away. He held a simple white robe, which he offered to Nadje.
Nadje took it, savoring the texture of the fine wool on his fingertips. “Are all the others awake?” Nadje’s voice was deeper than he remembered. Like a drum rattling beneath a symphony.
“They are all awake.”
“And Rakel?” Nadje slipped into the robe. His muscles glided more easily now. “What side has the Exalted One of Water chosen?”
“That we will have to see. You are the first I am visiting.”
Nadje smiled. It was a strange but not unwelcome sensation across his cold cheeks. “I am honored, Rook King.”
“Do not be too honored, Nadje.” The other Aether Paladin opened his hands like a performer. “We have work to do, and less time in which to do it than I had planned for. You must go to the Contested Lands.”
Nadje nodded, slowly. “Like the prophecy says? The final battle has begun?”
“Yes. Twelve must meet now on the lands long contested—and you are part of that Twelve.”
Nadje nodded. He had known this was coming; his time in the Bloodwitch had prepared him.
“I will take you to the Contested Lands,” the Rook King continued. “In the Dreaming, if you think your spirit can handle it.”
Could his spirit? Nadje closed his eyes. Grit scraped against his eyeballs, and it was a delicious, multifaceted sensation that he never wanted to end. He was free now. Free to fix what he’d done wrong a thousand years ago. Free to repair all that he had broken.
Assuming he could survive whatever came next.
“I will not be able to stay with you.” The Rook King set his hand on Nadje’s much higher shoulder. “For the dark-giver needs me. But I will take you to where I have arranged for the Lament to finish.”
Nadje opened his eyes. “I will do whatever is necessary for Sirmaya.”
“Good.” The Rook King offered a smile. Sad. Even heartbroken, as his fingers tightened on Nadje’s shoulder. “And perhaps, if Rakel will listen, there might still be some hope for her yet.
“Now come, Nadje. Brace yourself, for what comes next will be uncomfortable for a soul as old as yours.”
FIFTY-NINE
Stix reached Lovats to find the city falling apart. It was like watching a toy tower tip over: where once there had been structure, now there was only wobbling collapse. Noise crushed her. Stones, tides, people, beasts. Everything was lost as magic was guzzled away. Stix might not understand thewhyor thehow,but there was no missing the countless people whom she passed on the streets—they grappled for power that no longer answered to them.
Only Stix still seemed able to command the elements.
But worse than the lost witcheries—so,somuch worse—was the loss of other magic. Anything that had ever been assembled by witcheries was now breaking apart.
Including the Water-Bridges of Stefin-Eckart.
Which was why Stix ran as fast as her legs would carry her, toward the southern bridge. The ancient Stonewitcheries and Tidewitcheries that had assembled it were gone now; the bridges were collapsing; all the ships and souls atop them were going to die.
Stix shot off down a side street that would take her to Hawk’s Way and then to the river now emptying inside its canal. As she ran, she pulled her magic to her. It was more than she’d ever felt, or ever known she could tap into.
She’d gotten glimpses of it when she’d fought in the Slaughter Ring and encountered her past lives. And she’d gotten tastes of it when she and Kahina had—in secret—helped Vivia and Vaness battle the Dalmotti navy.
But this… it was so much more.
And it made Stix think of something Ragnor had told her a month ago:Magic was never meant to be ours. He’d meant humansandPaladins; he’d meant they needed to let Sirmaya have what She needed in order to heal because it was the only way to prevent a much worse fate for everyone.
Stix had believed Ragnor then. And now, shefeltthe truth of his faith.In ruthless detail, here was the full expanse of her power. And here was the entire land collapsing because all of its magic was surging into her.
The Cahr Awen had won. The Rook King had prevailed.
