Page 122 of The Shadow Wand

Lukas’s gaze latches on to mine, and he does a double take, as well. His gaze slides over me with an ardent flash of intensity as both my fear and my blazing defiance are swept aside. It’s a shock to see Lukas in something other than black. Like me, he’s dressed in deep Sealing greens that heighten the forest green of his eyes and the green glimmer of his skin, his silks perfectly tailored to complement his strong physique.

My ally. A rebel, just like me.

A fierce longing to escape with Lukas grips me as Vogel’s oppressive stare tracks me like prey. Keeping my gaze firmly on Lukas, I close the distance between us, noticing a hard urgency in Lukas’s expression that’s mirrored by the vibrating tension of his affinity fire.

I stop beside Lukas, our hands immediately finding each other’s and taking firm hold. Lukas’s grip on me tightens as his branching magery rushes through me and around my magic in tendriling lines, his fire riding over my earth magery in a hot, bolstering wave.

Strengthened by Lukas’s controlled magic, I glance around.

A dome of pine boughs forms a low ceiling that flows down to the blessing-star-patterned floor. Countless small green glass lanterns hang from the boughs to form a verdant constellation, a veritable sea of Mages seated underneath in the torch-encircled space, all of them tinted a more vibrant green by the emerald torchlight and the lanterns above.

I swallow as I steel myself.

It’s as if every influential Gardnerian and most of the high-ranking military were hastily invited to Lukas Grey’s Sealing ceremony. Lukas’s family and Aunt Vyvian are seated in the first, arcing row, their glares on me raptor-hard. A line of priests, soldiers, and two envoys stand behind Vogel in an arcing row.

There are only Gardnerians in the room, as the presence of “heathens” is banned during the sacred Sealing ceremony, the Gardnerian glimmer purposefully amplified by all the green light. The impact is dramatic, as if someone scattered brilliant deep-green starlight over everyone in the room, but I’m unsettled by the oppressive uniformity.

Our fingers intertwined, Lukas gently guides me to take my place across from him at the altar then lets go. Heart thundering, I struggle to maintain my courage in such close proximity to Vogel, the High Priest looming beside us, no trace of his Shadow magic on the air.

Palms up, Lukas holds out his hands to me over the altar, his gaze fixed on mine as I place my hands back in his and grasp tight as Lukas sends another bolstering wave of his affinity power through my lines.

But then another set of hands comes to the altar, the dark gray spiraling Shadow Wand loosely clasped in elegant fingers.

For a split second, my vision warps toward the Wand, everything surrounding it blurring, as if diffracted. I wait, breathlessly, for the terrible sense of Vogel’s dark, invading tree, his terrifying void, but...

Nothing.

Absolutely no sense of Vogel’s eclipsing power.

I glance at Vogel, and his pale eyes meet mine. His lips curl in a slight smile that sends ice straight down my spine. He’s like a snake, coiled and biding its time, and I’m struck by the remembrance of the full extent of his evil. How he led the Gardnerians to murder the Lupines, using our religion to justify the horrific massacre. Diana’s whole family mercilessly killed. Her parents. Her little sister, Kendra...

Vengeful wrath surges to life inside me like a storm yearning to burst through my skin. A sudden surge of power whips through me and strains to the Ironwood altar under my palm. Lukas’s hand clamps down tight around my wand hand, pulling it slightly up to break contact with the wood as I meet Lukas’s searing gaze and draw in a shuddering breath, the power tempered slightly.

“Blessed Mages,” Vogel announces beatifically as he looks over the silent, anticipatory crowd, “we gather this night for the Sacred Sealing Ceremony.” He pauses as his gaze passes once more over the room, his expression growing solemn. “We gather in the sight of the Holy Ancient One to celebrate the joining of these two Mages. In union with each other and in union with the Holy Magedom. Ever in dominion over earth, fire, water, wind, and light.” Vogel turns to face a nearby knot of priests and nods. “Bring forth the element of fire.”

One of the priests steps forward, gripping a candle on a long silver stand. He sets the candle in the center of the semicircular area that lies just before the altar, then rejoins the other priests.

Lukas shoots me a fierce look of solidarity, releases my hands, and then steps back and pulls his wand from its sheath in one smooth, practiced motion. He strides to the candle and calmly considers it as Vogel raises his hands, closes his eyes, and intones the traditional fire blessing.

“May the Ancient One bless your union and grant you dominion over fire. May you bring forth Mages who own fire for the glory of the Ancient One.”

Lukas is supposed to either put the candle out with his fingertips or snuff it out with a quick spell. It’s symbolic, all of this, as most Mages are magically powerless.

Instead, Lukas is looking at the candle as if he finds it amusing. As if he’s mentally toying with it. He murmurs a series of spells under his breath, then gives a quick flick of his wand toward the candle.

The candle’s flame leaps from the wick and into the air, then explodes outward into a suspended inferno big as a miller’s wheel, and the entire crowd gasps. Lukas pulls back his wand hand, and the inferno blazes into his wand in a long stream, the wand taking on a golden glow as Lukas whips the stream of fire around his head like a lasso. He throws his arm out in a wide, sweeping arc, and the fire courses out toward all the torches encircling the room. Another collective gasp goes up as Lukas’s fire lights all the torches gold instead of green, a rush of heat and flaxen light washing over us all.

Lukas steps back and casually lowers his wand. Then he turns and grins wolfishly at Vogel, who returns his smile coolly. Outwardly, Lukas emanates his usual calm, but I can sense the Magefire contained in his center coalescing into a tightly contained inferno.

I stare at Lukas in awe as the torches flicker back to green, a heightened gratitude rising in me to be so fully aligned with him. I knew he was powerful, well trained, and in control of his Level Five magic. But I had no idea he had this level of control.

A priest comes forward and expeditiously takes away the candle as two priests bring out a small table and a closed glass vial magicked to hold a small cyclone of air in its interior. They set down the table and place the vial on top of it, then step away as Vogel intones the second elemental prayer.

“May the Ancient One bless your union and grant you dominion over wind. May you bring forth Mages who own wind for the glory of the Ancient One.”

Lukas smiles slightly then murmurs a series of spells under his breath and points his wand.

The vial takes on a white-hot glow that explodes into raying light as the glass dissolves. I draw back along with everyone else as the cyclone springs free and rises into the air, wind now whipping through the room and through my hair, the torchlight wildly guttering as the cyclone draws upward and then expands over the room into a low ceiling of roiling clouds.

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