Page 35 of A Door in the Dark

Ren tried not to show how much Theo’s interest pleased her. She had his attention. All she had to do now was pull this off. Pull off this spell, here and now, and she’d take the first necessary step into her future. Lost in thought, Ren didn’t notice that the rest of the group was staring at the two of them. Timmons grinned. “Describe it as you would to a child.”

“The light becomes a bridge.”

She pointed to the opposite bank.

“And we walk across it.”

20

Once more Ren imagined the magic as the first, nervous steps in a dance.

She took a deep breath and drew on her knowledge of the spell. The bracelet flashed as magic chased through her veins. She carefully attached her first anchor to the solid earth beneath their feet. She made sure it wasn’t a single stone that might be ripped free as her spell extended. She would not make the mistake Theo had on the night of the party. Once she’d anchored the first half of the binding spell, she took another steadying breath.

“Timmons.”

A hand fell on Ren’s shoulder. The answering churn—the depth that Timmons rendered in Ren’s magic—was unmistakable. No wonder they all want you. Ren allowed that adrenaline to pump through her veins, chasing all the way to her fingertips.

Then she made a gathering motion in the air. It was like raking a hand across the surface of the water. The threads of sunlight pooled in her grasp. Once she’d gathered them all, she cast the next step of her binding spell. The threads grew taut in her mental palm. When they were as tight as she could draw them, she flexed Timmons’s power along that line.

A visual ripple raced across the water.

She knew it was real because the others gasped. The golden road tightened and straightened. It had looked fickle before. Something they had to pretend was a road. Ren’s binding spell solidified every particle into a single entity. Pretense became actuality. She felt the first resistance farther down the line. She was asking a great deal of the magic, but the power Timmons was offering helped her stay the course. It was a relief when her mental touch finally landed on the other bank.

Ren carefully twisted her wrist. A circular motion to tie off the second anchor. As soon as it was set, her entire body felt the relief. All the tension vanished. The sunlight was bound now between the two banks. It had worked. The magic held. Now for the second part in the spell.

She raised her horseshoe wand in the opposite hand. Some wizards liked using the same vessel when layering their magic, but Ren had found it easier to use two. It kept the magic from merging in unexpected ways. With Timmons’s hand on her shoulder, Ren reached out mentally for the sunlight she’d just bound together. It wiggled at her touch, new and joyous and slippery. Ren hunted for that moment when the sunlight from above became the sunlight reflected back.

Alter the alteration.

It was a moment as brief as a grain of sand, but she set her fingers on its pulse and unleashed the final wave of magic. The golden light shivered into more. It coalesced into something like paved gold. There was a sound like a thousand fingers all snapping at once as every piece slid perfectly into place. A bridge. She’d made an actual bridge.

Ren’s chest heaved. “It worked.”

I can’t believe that it actually worked.

In her breathless excitement Ren almost forgot about Timmons. She took a step forward, but her friend hooked her by the arm, careful to maintain physical contact.

“Can’t invite a girl to the dance, then leave her behind,” Timmons whispered.

“You literally did that four days ago,” Ren reminded her.

Her friend laughed. Avy let out a whoop from behind them. When Ren glanced back, Cora offered a salutatory nod. Theo’s face was priceless. Ren knew this was breathless magic. The entire reason she studied and worked as hard as she did. For moments where a wizard could do the unthinkable. And now a member of House Brood knew exactly what she was capable of doing. Survive the journey home, and everything would change.

She and Timmons took the first testing steps. A little jolt of shock ran down her spine when the road actually held. Water was splashing over the sides, slickening everything, but her magic was clearly working. She’d made a bridge out of sunlight. Ren briefly savored that triumph before remembering to give instructions.

“Go ahead of us,” she called over one shoulder. “Try not to block my line of sight to the other bank. It’s safest if you go in front. As we cross, I’m not sure how well the bridge behind us will hold, since it’s not directly in my vision. Go on.”

Avy slid around them first. “Pree always said you were a genius.”

Theo and Cora followed. Vega winged above. Ren was still trying to fully grasp the moment. She’d performed magic before. She knew that feeling, but this was magic as solution. Not magical theory she’d created for some manufactured problem summoned by a professor. Not a practice duel against a friend. It was achingly real, this magic.

They needed to reach the other side before she’d begin celebrations, though. Cora slipped once and Theo caught her by the arm. They shared a nervous laugh before pressing on. Ren had to tell Avy three separate times not to stand directly in front of her. She could feel the magic trembling underfoot. One of the great paradoxes in magical theory was that unbound magic enjoyed order. It liked direction. But as soon as it was shaped into a spell, that same magic wanted nothing more than to be free, so that it might dissipate back into the ether. It was why spells around Kathor always needed to be refreshed and maintained. Very few magics lasted forever.

She felt that tension in the threads beneath her feet. The bridge would hold, but it would not hold for long. Ren was well past the halfway point when she heard the noise. It grated against the even, continuous churn of water all around them. A familiar moan.

The hairs on her neck stood on end. She knew she shouldn’t look back. It would endanger the bridge, but thankfully, Theo heard the noise too. He’d spent a small part of that first night listening to the sound with her. It had likely made him more attuned to it than the others. He turned to look and his face instantly paled.

There was terror and dread and anger and fear written there. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Cora finally noticed that he’d stopped walking. She turned, and the same haunted expression echoed onto her face. The moan sounded again—a little closer—as Ren and Timmons maintained their slow but steady pace. Keep walking, she thought. Get to the other side.

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