Page 127 of The Shadow Wand

Evelyn Grey, Lachlan Grey, and Aunt Vyvian all view me with cold formality as we pass, Silvern with an out-and-out contempt that I struggle not to mirror as the applause continues and Lukas leads me toward the dance floor for the traditional first Sealing dance.

Concern mounts as I take in the number of Mage soldiers stationed outside the arboretum, their rigid forms visible through the glass.

A veritable army.

Just beyond them lies an expansive view over the Valgard bluff, the lights of Valgard glittering in the distance, the curving city edging the Malthorin Bay. And streaking over the water lies the green line of Gardneria’s new runic border, a threateningly bright reminder of Gardneria’s increasing power.

My courage falters.How will Lukas and I get past so many soldiers? And where is Vogel and his guard and the knot of priests that were at the Sealing?

The orchestra launches into “Deep Forest,” the traditional post-Sealing song. Lukas guides me onto the dance floor, takes me in his arms, and swings us into a waltz as Mages gather around the floor’s periphery. I catch Evelyn Grey’s resentful glare as well as Aunt Vyvian’s look of smug triumph, her eyes set on her grand prize, Lukas Grey.

Lukas deftly turns me around, one hand firm on my waist, the other wrapped tight around my wand hand as the crowd breaks into restrained applause and sends up a collective, polite murmur of appreciation.

Lukas seems as unfazed as ever, but I can feel the forceful current of every line of his power blazing with lethal tension.

Breathless with concern, I draw close to Lukas, leaning in to whisper in his ear. Lukas immediately responds by pulling me closer.

“Did Thierren speak with you?”

Lightning flashes through the glass ceiling.

“Yes,” Lukas replies, his tone emphatic, the response of someone who has assessed the threat and somehow handled it. He gives me a sharp look as if to caution me to silence, and I surmise that he likely knows about the dragon and Effrey’s geomancy, as well.

“Keep hold of me,” he whispers, tightening his grip on my wand hand for emphasis as we dance, “so I can pull on your magic and feed power into the shield.” He gives me a brief, crucial look as my worry mounts that Vogel has permanently altered my magic in some intrinsic way.

Possibly in some corrupting way.

Without Lukas’s shield, my rare ability to read magic has been rendered into a debilitating skill by Vogel’s Shadow power. I’m like a book cracked open, all the overlapping elemental magic in the room able to flow straight in, my lines on full display and disastrously vulnerable.

The orchestral piece’s violin crescendo rises like a tide as Lukas glides us over the dance floor, the two of us having fallen seamlessly into our musical bond the way we did when we played music together, but the yearning to speak freely to him grips nearly as tight as his magical shield sizzling over my lines.

The crowd applauds once more as the piece draws to its finale and Lukas pulls me dramatically close, his searing gaze holding mine as the back of my neck begins to creep with an indefinable dread. The Wand of Myth in my stocking shudders against my thigh as a disquieting tang of magic rises in the air like fog and the rune Sage marked on my abdomen prickles with energy.

I turn as Marcus Vogel emerges from the edge of the indoor forest and starts down the reception’s central aisle, drawing everyone’s attention.

Fear mounts, quickly followed by the rise of a cornered defiance.

Vogel is trailed by a large military contingent, the four tethered Mages tight on his heels, his two young envoys just behind them, Vogel’s long stride practically radiating power. And his fist is tight around the hilt of his sheathed Shadow Wand.

Lukas keeps decisive hold of my wand hand, his power running hot over mine, as Vogel nears and his pale eyes flick over me, quick as an asp, a palpable sting lashing against my shielded lines.

A stab of terror knifes through me as surprise flickers in Vogel’s gaze.

You’re trying to get in, aren’t you,I realize as I tighten my grip around Lukas’s hand.You’re trying to get into my lines. But you didn’t expect a shield, did you?

Vogel passes by and takes his place at a well-guarded table near the wall of glass. He smiles benevolently at Lukas and me, then raises a permissive hand to the orchestra. The musicians launch into another waltz as Vogel takes a seat and couples spill onto the dance floor, my heart threatening to pound a hole straight through my chest.

Stamping down the urge to bolt, I follow Lukas as he guides me away from Vogel and toward a long receiving table set by a green-lit waterfall and to a seat near its center, where I’m surrounded by Lukas’s family and placed next to Aunt Vyvian.

She rises as I approach, her constellation gown glittering, the diamonds reflecting green sparks of light. Her ever-smug expression makes my stomach churn.

But even my aversion to Aunt Vyvian can’t cut through my awareness of Vogel’s attention. I’ve a subtle sense of invisible Shadow magic rolling over the floor, like writhing mist, flowing up against the fire and earth magery Lukas has woven around my lines. Almost caressing the shield before drawing back like a sinister tide.

“May the Ancient One’s blessing be upon you,” my aunt croons as she takes hold of my arm and kisses me on both cheeks, everything in me recoiling from her touch. She draws back and gives me a look of gloating import as she accentuates each word.“Mage Elloren Grey.”

A sliver of shock ripples through me as I hear my new name for the first time.

The finality of it punches through my defensive haze and unearths a stab of grief for Yvan, but I quickly gain hold of myself. I could have been Elloren Bane, I bleakly consider. If Lukas didn’t intervene, Iwouldbe Elloren Bane. And Damion would have sussed out my power and thrust me straight into Vogel’s grip.

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