Page 95 of What Blooms from Death

I sat in shock for an instant before sliding down to the ground myself. Even then, I hesitated, one hand braced against Phantom’s side as I watched Nova and the magic building around her, still trying to understand why she wanted to protect these beings who had only just recently tried to devour her.

We could have been using this opportunity to run.

So what the fuck was she doing?

Phantom stomped his hooves anxiously, giving me a vicious nudge with his sharp snout, urging me after her.

I needed no real encouragement from him; in the next beat I was already running, picking my way carefully through slashing weapons and rearing horses, darting wildly to avoid falling bodies, all while fighting to not let Nova out of my sight.

The shadows whipped more frantically around her, drawing the eyes of every wraith she passed. She didn’t seem to notice, or care, even as several peeled away from the soldiers they were battling and instead converged toward her.

I broke into a sprint.

Drawing my sword, I cut a path to her side, felling three wraiths along the way.

Nova turned as I reached her, still moving as if in a trance. Her brow furrowed. She clearly saw the other wraiths closing in on either side of us, but she didn’t flinch as they pressed closer. She kept her eyes on mine and stepped to meet me, reaching out her hand.

I stared at it. At her. I still didn’t know what this foolish woman was doing. This chaotic, infuriating, fucking beautiful,foolishwoman.

She didn’t speak, but I could hear her voice in my memory, whispering while we stood by the frigid waters of Nyras.

Trust me.

I had. Somehow, I had, and then we’d brought the world to life around us. It was hard to think oflifeat the moment, though. Hard to think beyond the suffocating fiends pressing in around us, choking away what little bit of light and air existed in this hell.

It felt ridiculous to think of life after all the death we’d witnessed today.

But I put away my sword.

And I reached back.

As our fingers brushed one another’s, it happened again: The same rush of energy that had overtaken us at Lake Nyras. The same spark of power that felt unlike anything I’d ever known. All the background seemed to fade for a moment, the world condensing to the single point of touch between us.

From that point, a greater magic began to pulse.

Not fully Shadow magic, nor entirely Light, but a combination of both—a shimmering blanket of silvery-white power that rose up like a wave, rolling higher and wider before crashing down over everything around us, sweeping life and color over all that it touched.

The air hummed. The world rattled and shuddered, a deep tremor coursing under the ground. I felt every movement in my bones, as if some primal part of me was now irreversibly connected to the earth.

I felt the moment our magic approached its limits, too—like a bowstring drawing back as far as it could go beforeit snapped with a suddencrack!that reverberated through the ether, ripping Nova’s hand from mine and sending us both staggering backward.

I immediately started to race toward her again, but stopped in my tracks as I realized…it was done. The spell was already finished. There was little else left to do but stare and try to make sense of the aftermath. To try and catch my breath and find my footing underneath the exhaustion settling like a leaden weightupon my shoulders.

As I was beginning to expect, we’d left a scene of vibrant growth all around us—swaying grass, shimmering flowers and shining, fluttering insects.

But far more interesting, this time, was what had become of the army of wraiths.

The dead did not stir from where they’d fallen. But the ones who still stood were changing, just as Red had changed that night at Nyras; color returning to their complexions; emotions filling their eyes; their edges growing sharper, more defined.

Astonished whispers filled the air, soon followed by sobs and laughter.

The closest noise to me—a combination of sobbing and laughing—came from a woman who was crawling across theground, blood trailing down her arm. It was dried, and mostly black, as I’d noticed wraith blood tended to be. She’d been wounded, but had stayed in one piece, and now…she was alive.

Alive.

I staggered toward her despite my dizziness, helping her stand, mainly so I could look more closely into her face and confirm what still seemed impossible. The flush of her cheeks. The feel of her breath. The blood on her arm, which was now turning to a brighter, morealiveshade of crimson. She looked thrilled about that fresher, brighter blood. As the trail of it oozed against my steadying hand, I abruptly let her go and stumbled back.

Turning around, I spotted Nova again. She was kneeling among several more of the newly-revived. Her body was visibly heavy with exhaustion, but her eyes were alert as she surveyed the scene.

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