Page 157 of The Dryad Storm

Fallon’s piercing gaze snaps to Vogel’s, a restless tension crackling into being between them. “This waiting is a gamble,” she challenges, glancing pointedly toward his Shadow storm band. “We should attack the Dryad and her Icaralright now.”

“Their shielding is too strong,” Vogel responds, meeting her knifing ice aurawith simmering patience. “And I don’t yet hold enough power to portal through it.”

Fallon’s expression edges toward the explosive. “So, we simplywaitwhile the Dryad Witch and her allies take hold of theentire East?”

Vogel gives her a lethal glare, but Fallon meets it fully, her brazen ire undeterred.Careful, witch, Vogel thinks, suppressing a snarl.

“This is not a taking hold of,” he counters. “The Dryad Witch and her allies have sent one shield up over the Dyoi Mountain Range and Forest, another over the Zonor River and yet another over the Vo, no plan or unity fueling these actions. Because there is no unity in the East.”

The temperature dips, ice-pick anger in Fallon’s eyes. “So we leave them all be until they can find a way to unite and rise against us?”

“No,” Vogel responds. “We leave them be as they tear each other toshreds. The Dryad Witch and her allies are drawing on foliage light magic that is nearing its height. When foliage season peaks, the light magic running through the trees reaches its pinnacle.” A patient smile forms on Vogel’s lips. “But after that, as color is swept from the trees, Dryad power will go dormant. And peak foliage’s surge in magic will be blunted by our razing of the Northern Forest and the rest of the Central Continent’s wilds.”

A calculating glint forms in Fallon’s eyes. “So, quite soon, they’re about to see a huge drop in their pooled magic. Enough for us to break through their shielding?”

Vogel’s expression turns serpentine. “Enough for us to break through their eastern shielding and their Subland shielding, as well. Opening up paths for us to level the East, wrest hold of the Heathen Wand of Power, and bring the Prophecy to fruition.”

Excitement overtakes Fallon’s expression, her icy magic kicking up steam as it shivers against Vogel’s fire power.

He leans in, close, thrilling to the feel of his fire against her ice. “Patience, my Black Witch.”

“I’ll tear the Icaral demon’s wings right from his body,” Fallon promises, her breathing uneven, the rise of her desire for him ferally intense, and Vogel knows—he knows in that moment—that possessing her was always the Ancient One’s will for them both as she crackles her power against his with more insistent force.

Territorial force.

Which sparks a hard dart of Vogel’s anger.

He steps back, angles his Wand at her and murmurs a spell. A look of curiosityflashes through Fallon’s eyes as Shadow vines fly out of the Shadow Wand’s tip to encircle her arms, her wrist, her body, dragging her onto her knees so fast she barely has time to react.

Rage and alarm shock through Fallon’s lines, frost breaking out on the grayed stone surrounding them before Vogel abruptly dissolves her binding. Fallon’s expression of fury morphs to a look of rattled reappraisal tinged with an almost reverential awe as she rubs her wrist.

He waits, staring her down,testingher. But she remains on her knees.

Good.

“I am naming you commanding witch of the Magedom’s entire military forces,” he tells her, satisfied by her display of submission. “Rise, Black Witch of the Magedom.”

Fallon pushes herself back to her feet, her eyes steady on Vogel’s as their power batters and steams against each other’s, silver-dark fire against Shadow ice.

“Bring your forces north to our new Issani military base,” Vogel orders, “and prepare them for invasion of the East.”

“Yes, your Excellency,” Fallon demurs, just as a line of glowing purple moons blast into being in front of the Dyoi Mountain Range’s shielding, low to the ground, like a line of Xishlon moons walling off the East.

A firebolt of surprise scorches through both Vogel and Fallon.

“More taunting from the Dryad Witch’s abomination of a cousin,” Vogel hisses, fury searing through his lines that he swiftly reins in.

“Be wary of Or’myr Syll’vir,” Fallon warns. “I’ve been told he has a Strafeling level of geopower mingled with the Mage might of his Black Witch lineage.”

“He’s a nuisance, to be sure,” Vogel returns as he takes in the heretical moons.

“He’s sending a message,” Fallon bites out. “Perhaps not just to us, but to his whore of a cousin, as well.”

Vogel’s gaze slides back to Fallon. “Let him send his heathen messages, my beautiful Black Witch,” he croons. “We’ll soon turn every moon Or’myr Syll’vir can conjure into spheres filled with Shadowfire and send them hurtling down onto the entire East.” His focus on her intensifies, silvery hot. “And you can speed that day by sending your power into my Shadow net over the Dyoi, to hasten winter’s descent.”

Chapter Ten

Lightning Kiss

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