Page 18 of Fading Sun

“Ready.” I wrap my fingers around the compass and grip it tightly, bracing myself for whatever this spell is going to throw at me.

I look at Damien for encouragement, but get nothing.

Unsurprising.

“You’ve got this. It’ll be over before you know it,” Morgan says, and I’m so relieved she’s back in the city. Now more than ever. I really need a friend my age around here. “But also, just as a precaution,” she adds, “It might not hurt to do this sitting down.”

Amber

We get situated on the ground, and Blaze draws a deep breath, his hands steady as he slices the blade across his palm. The cut is precise, and blood wells up immediately—dark and rich against his skin.

Once the cut is complete, he puts the dagger away.

“Ready?” he asks as he takes out the quill, his voice low, a hint of darkness crossing his eyes as he stares down at it.

“Ready.” I take a deep breath, look up at the sky, and steel myself for what’s coming.

He digs in before I can overthink it.

I gasp at the first touch of the quill. It’s sharp. More painful than anticipated.

Because he’s not just writing on my skin.

He’s carving into it.

At an agonizingly slow pace.

I understand the need to be precise. After all, I don’t want him to make a mistake.

But holy crap, it hurts.

I bite my lip hard and tighten my grip around the compass, trying to keep still, focusing on the skyline instead of the pain. But, like what happens when I get blood drawn, curiosity gets the best of me, and I can’t help but look.

Extraho, Blaze finishes writing.

He lifts the quill, and the word glows. But I don’t have a moment to relax before the tip of it is back on my skin, digging deep, searing the rest of the spell into me.

My eyes water from the pain.

Morgan’s holding her breath as she watches.

Damien’s face is unreadable, although every now and then, his gaze flickers to the spot where the quill meets my skin, and his jaw tightens.

Et, Blaze continues, and sweat beads on my brow, each stroke sending a jolt of pain radiating down my forearm to my hand that’s holding the compass. He’s as focused as ever, his gaze drilling into my skin almost as intensely as his blood on the quill.

“Almost done,” he says as he starts writing the final word, and I blink away tears, praying to Sunneva that it’ll be over soon—even though I doubt she can hear, or that she’s even listening.

I bite my lip to stop myself from crying.

Something metallic fills my mouth.

My blood.

The pain intensifies as Blaze continues to write. It’s like fire running through my veins, and it’s reaching through me, burning through my blood as it searches for something dark and unmistakable inside of me—the potion.

It’s gathering the potion’s darkness, pulling on it with so much force that it’s like it’s sucking the marrow out of my bones.

Just when I’m not sure I can take it for a second longer, Blaze pulls away the quill and releases my arm.

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