Page 115 of Shrine of Fire

Being in the Spirit Oasis had shown me what it was like to have magic all around me. Using that as a comparison, I relaxed my spirit further. I used the tricks that Kalahar had taught me over the weeks, of staring at an object and letting the rest of myself go.

I picked the Omega’s Pack constellation. I would be part of the pack. I would love Nova for the rest of my life. Stefan and Hashir were connected to her, and we were all connected by our love and devotion to the most amazing woman I’d ever met.

A chill ran down my spine again, an echo of grief, fingers cold as the grave.

I realized that what I was picking up wasn’t only my fear of what could be. The spirit’s essence was trickling through the air, warping everything like a blight.

Hella Mora was coming. My pack was in danger. I stumbled to my feet. “We have to get to Nova.”

Whispers in the dark ruined my sleep. I shifted in my bed, my neck and shoulders stiff. I threw an arm around Stefan and felt tacky wetness.

I sat up with a start.

His chest was covered in blood. It had bloomed out of his wound in his shoulder and kept bleeding. While I had slept, safe and comfortable, he’d lain next to me, dying.

“Stefan,” I shook him. Stay calm, I told myself. “Hashir!”

I looked around our bedroom, but we were alone. The ship rolled gently, and I pressed my hands into Stefan’s wounds. I tugged on our bond, and there was a weak tug back.

He was still alive. I kissed his cheek, shaking. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’ll get help.”

I slid out of bed, my knees wobbly. It wasn’t too late. I wouldn’t let it be.

I ran through the narrow corridor of the ship. “Help!” I shouted, my voice echoing back at me. I opened doors at random, but the downstairs was deserted.

Something fluttered in the back of my mind, but my panic that I was losing Stefan kept it from coming all the way to the forefront. I had to find help. I couldn’t let Stefan die, not now that he was mine.

I climbed the stairs and made it out onto the deck. It was pitch black outside, and the moon was full, casting the entire deck in silver. At the prow of the ship, a woman stood watching the waves.

“Help me.” I ran over to her. “He’s bleeding badly.”

I reached the woman, her long white robe blowing in the breeze, and touched her shoulder.

She turned around and half her face was bone.

I gasped, taking a step back. Hella Mora.

“I will help you, Callenova.” Her voice was soft as she stared at me in the moonlight. “Free me from my prison, and you can have whatever you want.”

“This is a mean trick,” I snapped, stepping back again. “Is this all you have? My own mind’s tricks against me?”

Hella Mora shook her head sadly. “You don’t think I wasn’t like you once? Grieving, but still hopeful?”

“You’re nothing like me.” I wrapped my arms around my shoulders, shivering. It wasn’t cold, but I couldn’t stop shaking. My hands were still tacky with blood, and even though I realized that Stefan wasn’t really bleeding out in our room, I wanted to run back to him.

“I had my lovers.” She looked so solemn, her beautiful, ruined face etched with sorrow. “I was to guard the Wells of Life and Death. A noble occupation for a spirit.”

“So go back to guarding them.” I lifted my chin. “Stop taking us all down with you.”

“I am not taking you anywhere you haven’t already been.” Hella Mora gestured across the empty ship. “You know better than most in the world, what it is to lose the ones you love. My children and lovers were taken from me.”

“Making everyone else miserable won’t bring them back.”

“I’m not making you miserable. You were already miserable.”

“I’m moving on. Falling in love again.”

Hella Mora lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “And how long will that last? A decade or two if you’re lucky? Half of your lovers haven’t even bonded themselves to you.”

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