Page 53 of Fading Sun

I concentrate again, summoning my magic, trying to be gentle but firm with it at the same time.

Precision.

That’s what I need to succeed.

Slowly, I allow my magic to fill the crystal in my hand. It trickles inside, like smoke filling glass, and then…

Crack.

The crystal shatters into a thousand glittering pieces that spread across the stone floor.

Blaze swears loudly, his frustration echoing throughout the cavernous room. “Now what?” he asks.

I stare at the cuts healing on my palm, wishing I had an answer.

We failed. No—I failed. I had the key to that portal in the palm of my hand, and now, it’s gone.

“We need another crystal,” Damien says to the Abbot, and then he adds, “Please.”

“I’m afraid that’s not how this works,” the Abbot says calmly, turning to me. “You knew your task. You tried. You failed. Now, given that we’re closed to visitors for the day, I’ll see you out.”

My skin glows, as if my body’s a bomb ready to explode.

If the Abbot is intimidated, he doesn’t show it. Neither do the other monks, who are as serene as ever, as if they’re not in the presence of four dangerous supernaturals.

“There are nineteen discs,” Morgan says, motioning to the others scattered about the floor.

“Your point?” the Abbot asks.

“One disc per person,” she says. “That’s what you told us when you explained the trial. Which means up to nineteen people can try opening the portal at once.”

“Again… your point?” the Abbot asks.

“My point is that you have fifteen other crystals somewhere.”

The Abbot raises a thin brow, saying nothing.

“Is she right?” Blaze growls, his hand closer to his dagger than before. “Do you have more crystals?”

A few of the monks step back, refusing to meet our eyes.

Judging from their reaction, Morgan’s right.

There are more crystals.

Hope isn’t lost.

The Abbot zeroes in on me, eyes narrowed, his calm demeanor replaced by impatience. “You had one chance to prove your worth,” he says. “You failed. Now, like I said, we’ll see you out.”

“We’re not leaving,” Damien says, stepping off his disc in that smooth, predatory way of his. “And she is worthy.”

My heart warms at how he jumped to my defense. Yes, I can defend myself, but it’s nice to know he’s looking out for me.

As he should.

Given he’s my husband.

The word feels wrong, even in my thoughts.

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