“Wait.” James spun Sebastian around so they were facing each other. If he’d let go, Sebastian would have fallen like a felled tree. “Wait,” James repeated, his eyes wild like he was panicking or thinking too fast for his brain to process. “Pieces of pieces…”
Great, James was losing his grip too.
A shriek cut across the quiet clearing. Sebastian hadn’t even realized the howling wind had stopped until now.
The shades had noticed them, probably wondering what had caused the change in the veins. No more streamed in through the gateway, but a large group hovered in the clearing, all eyes focused on Sebastian and James.
“What are they waiting for?” James whispered.
In unison, all the shades cocked their heads. They paused, then straightened and shot off into the sky.
Where were they going? Sebastian hoped everyone in town was all right.
Before he could say anything, a dark figure appeared across the clearing. The large humanoid shade stood at the edge of the hole, lit by the faint glowing light.
“Leave,” the otherworldly voice commanded.
That wasn’t happening. Sebastian had no patience left. He was in pain and filled with dread because it looked like he’d have to sacrifice himself after all.
Should he just throw himself into the hole now, shade be damned? No, that would leave James at risk. He couldn’t have that. James was going to survive this. That was all Sebastian cared about.
He pulled the power of the veins to him. It came easily, whether from practice or because he was at the intersection, he didn’t know. Sebastian didn’t hesitate or give the shade a chance. He pulled power out of the earth and directed it at the being, holding nothing back.
The shade lifted into the air, and for a second, Sebastian thought it was flying toward him. But no. Blue energy poured from Sebastian into the beast, holding it suspended above the hole as overwhelming power ran through Sebastian, its strength almost unfathomable.
The shade screamed and disappeared in a flash of light, the eerie yell echoing around them.
Sebastian’s vision blacked out. He was ready to give in to all the pain and just have it be over. “Throw me in,” he muttered.
“No.” James’s response was harsh in his ear.
Sebastian breathed until his vision cleared. “We don’t have much time. That thing might come back any minute. I don’t know how long it takes to get through the gateway. I have to close it.”
“We will close it.” James lowered Sebastian to the ground and propped him against a tree. “But you’ve already made your sacrifice. Going into the veins to die won’t help.”
Sebastian watched James walk over to the two fuel cells at the edge of the clearing, too pained and overwhelmed to move. “Why won’t it help?”
“Because you aren’t the only missing piece.”
22
JAMES
James could see it all so clearly it was almost frightening. His heart had broken when Sebastian had decided to sacrifice himself, and his soul had fractured to see him in so much pain, cutting off his own finger, but James was sure he’d finally figured it out.
“I don’t know what you’re saying, James,” Sebastian pleaded from the forest floor. James felt horrible for dumping him there, but there wasn’t time to stay by Sebastian’s side. He had to prove he was right.
The veins had calmed. However, James wasn’t sure if they’d fended off the explosion permanently or if the tremors would return. They had to finish this and do it before that shade came back. Sebastian couldn’t keep using the veins to save them.
“You aren’t the only missing piece,” James repeated. He cast a spell to levitate the fuel cell he and Sebastian had connected to the veins, sending it into the clearing and over the glowing edge of the hole.
“Wait,” Sebastian called weakly.
“The fuel cell is a stand-in for the missing piece too.” James sent it to the center of the hole. “You made it one when we transferred the curse from you to it. It has the same connection to the veins you do. Watch.”
James released his spell and the fuel cell fell into the void. It tumbled until it was consumed in a flash of blue light, just like Sebastian’s finger.
Sebastian gasped.