Page 220 of The Shadow Wand

The teenage girl looks to the woman questioningly, her expression growing conflicted when the woman remains cautiously silent. But then the girl straightens with an air of defiance, as if fighting against her own intimidation, as she sets her piercing forest green eyes on me.

“We’re in the Dyoi Forest,” she says, clutching her blade.

It strikes me anew, the sheer impossibility of it.

I’m here, in the Eastern Realm, along with my brothers and so many loved ones. Trystan and Rafe. Diana and Jarod and Andras. Tierney and Naga and Sage, and other allies and friends. All of them probably here, somewhere.

“Do you have a compass?” I ask the girl as lightning forks through the sky above, sending out a resounding crack.

She nods, her brow furrowed tight as she pulls a golden compass from her pocket, seeming braced like a soldier and ready to press through hell itself to get the woman and child to safety.

“I need your help,” I level with the girl. “I don’t know which way to go.”

She considers this, her mouth thinning, the force of her gaze a formidable thing.

“I’ll help you,” she finally blurts out. There’s a rushed, reckless quality to the words, like she’s made the sudden decision to jump off a cliff.

I nod at this, both heartened and overcome with emotion over her obvious bravery in the face of such great difficulty. “And I’ll protect you,” I promise her.

The air seems to flicker and warp, translucent white birds flashing into view and settling on the shoulders of the girl, the child, and the woman as the Wand pulses against my side.

My heart twists as I remember all the other times the ethereal Watchers have shown themselves.

To prompt compassion for heroic Ariel.

To lead me to Marina.

I’ve seen the Watchers on the shoulders of Smaragdalfar refugee children. And Watchers in terrible mourning when the Lupines were murdered.

Watchers led me to the Wand sheathed at my side.

And now, they’re here, with this girl and her sick family.

It’s a heartening thought, that there could be a larger force at play in the world. A force for good that cares about the oppressed.

Even though its power pales in comparison to the power of the Shadow Wand.

I remember talking to Sage about the Wand of Myth, the Wand we’ve both been the Bearers of.

The force of good seems very, very weak, I rued to her.

Then we strengthen it, Sage answered me with unflinching resolve.I think it needs us in that way.

I look at the people before me as the Watchers blink out of view and the Wand goes silent once more.

Perhaps this is how it starts, I consider as tears glaze my eyes.By helping each other.

Another fiercer shot of warmth suddenly jets through my lines, fiery gold and blisteringly powerful.

My eyes widen.

Shocked, I glance around, the power of the trees palpably retreating from the sudden rush of heat.

“What’s the matter?” the girl worriedly asks me.

The golden fire roars through me again, and before I can answer her, the flames intensify. Not Mage heat, I realize. No. I recognize the unique, golden-blaze quality of this heat. The signature sting of it.

There’s nothing vague or amorphous about this heat. It’s directional. Blasting toward me from the northeast and as familiar to me as my own heart, my own lines. Heat I’ve felt intimately in more than one kiss. Heat that’s been sent through me at close range.

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