Page 8 of Rage of the Fallen

“I can get it,” Justice offered, calm and assured. The vampire’s confidence was almost unnerving sometimes. “They won’t even notice it’s missing. But how do you make it change size? Dragging a harp out of a castle will be difficult, even for a vampire.”

I nodded, my mind racing through possibilities. Justice’s supernatural strength and speed would be invaluable, but he was right. We had to know how to shrink the harp. I turned back to the mirror, hoping it hadn’t gone silent on us yet.

“Is there a spell?” I whispered, hoping no one heard me in the crowded room.

The mirror’s surface rippled again, and I held my breath, waiting. Then, my mother’s voice spoke, reciting words that resonated with an otherworldly power,

“Instrument of royal might,

Shrink now to a traveler’s size.

By ancient power, by fae’s delight,

Compact your form before our eyes.

String of gold and frame of wood,

Heed this call and bend to will.

Shrink you must, for greater good,

‘Til spoken words this spell fulfill.

Silmaril’s light and Morrigan’s crow,

By these words, so mote it be.

Shrink, fair harp, both high and low,

‘Til ‘Crescite’ sets you free.”

I threaded my fingers through my hair in frustration. “You have to repeat that. I can’t memorize all of it.”

Damon’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he held up his phone with a triumphant grin. “You don’t have to, sis. I recorded it.”

A sudden noise near the entrance to the Great Hall snapped me from my spiraling thoughts. My head whipped around, gaze locking onto the source of the commotion. A jolt of adrenaline surged through me, momentarily pushing aside my fears about Maci and Rage.

What was happening? Friend or foe? I couldn’t tell from here. My muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Part of me wanted to rush toward thedisturbance, to face the new challenge head-on. Another part held me back, whispering caution.

The ancient stone walls of Edinburgh Castle seemed to amplify every sound, making the angry voices impossible to ignore.

“Did you shove me, asshole?” A stocky man with a ruddy complexion squared his shoulders, glaring up at a much taller opponent. The air crackled with tension, their heated exchange drawing curious onlookers like moths to a flame.

The taller man’s lip curled in disdain. “That’s what happens when you walk like an old geezer.”

“Don’t touch me.” The shorter one’s hands balled into fists as he shoved the taller man, making him stumble back a step. The push sent ripples of excitement through the growing crowd.

To my horror, even the castle guards seemed to be spurring them on. Their deep voices joined the rising chant. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

I stepped toward the crowd to break things up, but Brody clasped my arm.

“Stand down,” he insisted. “We can’t intervene. Not now.”

I stared at him, bewildered. ‘But they’re going to tear each other apart!’

Brody’s jaw clenched, his gaze sweeping the frenzied crowd. “Look closer. This isn’t a simple fight. It’s orchestrated chaos. The crowd, even the guards…they’re not themselves.”

He pulled me back slightly and whispered, “This is Maci and Rage’s doing. They want us to lose focus, to get swept up in this madness. We have to stay clear-headed, stick to our mission.”

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