Page 4 of The Demon Tide

“I’m concerned...” Alaric starts, striving to assemble his thoughts as Vogel patiently waits. “I’m concerned that—” his gaze flicks yet again to the Wand “—that we’re making a mistake. Bringingthatto the Continent of the Realms.”

Vogel nods placidly, as if he was expecting this. “You heard the demon,” he reasons. “The Wand was sending out lures to be found and taken up by heathens. It was by the Ancient One’s grace that the Death Fae mistook us for Dryad demons.”

Alaric nods.A huge stroke of luck, indeed.He scans the Wand’s outline, unable to keep the seditious thoughts from rising.Was it truly luck?Or should we run from this thing?

“How do we know the Wand won’t use us for evil?” The words rush out of Alaric, the Fae’s warning something he can’t shake, even though it came from an Evil One.

Vogel’s lip lifts. “Because we are Mages. Filled with the Ancient One’s own grace. Any Tool of Power in our hands will be transformed.”

Alarm knifes through Alaric. “But...you said you were going to destroy it.” His gaze darts west, and he notices that the sunset is now a dim imprint, blasts of color receded.

Swallowed by darkness.

“‘Unholy is the Mage who doubts the Will of the Ancient One,’” Vogel murmurs.

Alaric’s brow tenses over Vogel’s ominous choice to recite this passage from theBook. He turns just as Vogel gently reaches for the Wand and murmurs the penitent’s spell—the earth spell used to discipline priest-apprentices who stray. The spell that stings the apprentice with a small lash of power, a prod to stay on the Path of the Holy.

But Vogel is using the Shadow Wand to cast it.

Protest rises in Alaric’s throat as Vogel angles the Wand at him.“Wait—”

Bolts of Shadow blast from the Wand’s tip and roar around him, cinching Alaric tight, the breath forced from his lungs as he’s hurled into the air and thrown overboard in a stomach-lurching arc.

A wall of dark ocean flies toward his face and he collides with the waves, the cold ocean rushing over him as the Shadow power drives him down into the water’s depths. Panic floods Alaric, a horrific clarity descending.

I’m being drowned.As the Shadow Wand speeds toward Gardneria.

The Shadow power recedes, and Alaric’s limbs are suddenly freed. He throws his arms back and kicks toward the surface, choking on salty water.

Translucent images of silvery-white birds suddenly waver into view all around, their glowing forms illuminating the dark waters, wings outstretched as they watch him ascend. Alaric’s panic turns to sheer terror as he breathes in more water and devolves into flailing instead of swimming, dark splotches forming in his vision, the surface too high to reach in time.

A large, silver seal appears in the waters before him, its blurred form rapidly morphing into a silver-haired, naked blue woman with gills on her neck.

A Selkie, Alaric registers with panicked shock. One of the monstrous seal women.

He’s too far gone to stop her as the Selkie grabs hold of his arm, dragging him upward much faster than he could swim on his own. She glances at the luminous, suspended birds, then back at Alaric with otherworldly silver eyes, her blue lips parting to reveal pointed teeth. But the astonished look on her face...

It’s human.

Not demonic or cursed at all.

Just like the Death Fae.

He desperately points upward with his last ounce of strength, his lungs screaming for air as the Selkie bolts him toward the water’s surface and the world goes dark.

THE SHADOW

VOID POWER RISING

TheIronflowerShip, headed for the Continent of the Realms

The Shadow bides its time, as it does. Encased in the Wand gripped so righteously by the priest, a moment after the priest-apprentice was thrown overboard and thrust far below.

The Shadow senses the priest looking out over the calming waters.

And makes its move.

Slowly it sends tendrils through the priest’s hand, winding around his affinity lines, waking up like a Void dragon rising.

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