Page 90 of The Seer

He glanced at Noah, who observed him solemnly. Undoubtedly, his brother understood, having gone through life motherless.

“One bolt for each of them, fellas,” Damian instructed. “The energy surge will trigger the sigils. Sabrina can channel the rest through Taryn’s link to the pool.”

“We got it, man. Let’s get on with it already,” Noah said with an eye roll.

“Bratty little brother making up for lost time,” Damian replied warmly, grinning when Noah laughed.

The three of them gathered molecules from the air around them, drawing electrical energy into the palms of their hands. Around them, the cavern echoed the crackle of power, and Damian gave a sharp nod.

“Now!” Beastie shouted, diving into the water.

For a split second, Damian’s fear overcame him. She wasn’t supposed to enter the pool, but he had to have faith she knew what she was doing as Oracle. Still, Noah and Ronan looked to him for confirmation.

He nodded. “Do it.”

The moment their bolts struck, the sigils flared to life in brilliant, shifting hues, illuminating the entire place and glowing like molten etchings on the boulders. The force of their combined abilities ran hot and fast up Damian’s spine. But it wasn’t just their power. What existed in that water was something more primal, perhaps more ancient than all theirs combined.

Siren magic.

Beneath the surface, Sabrina swam from stone to stone, grabbing and tethering the strands together. From his place above, she appeared as a human spider, weaving an intricate web. She’d yet to surface for oxygen, and he worried she might be pushing the limit. Trusting a child, even one as worldly as his daughter, wasn’t easy. They didn’t understand limitations like adults, and if they did, they chose to ignore them.

Eoin’s sister Dubheasa, Ronan’s mate and fellow Guardian, stepped up on the lip, prepared to dive in should Sabrina need saving.

“We’ll give her thirty seconds more,” Damian said, trying to keep his nervousness at bay for the sake of all involved. When Aether emotions rode high, everyone paid the price.

At the center of the pool, the three bodies floated, each aglow with the voltage feeding them. Taryn’s torso arched upward. Limbs dangling, head tilted back, and hair fanned around her in a silky cloud, she showed no signs of life.

“Please, Taryn. Come back to us,” he urged. How the hell was he supposed to tell his wife that her sister was in a permanent stasis, or worse, dead? Channeling his anxiety, he directed more force straight at her body and prayed it did the trick.

Tremors shook the ground beneath his bare heels, and a subtle hum rose from the rock itself, growing louder until it became a deafening throbbing one might associate with a pulsing packed nightclub. The vibration was vigorous, enough to awaken a sleeping soul, and he held his breath as he waited for it to recharge Taryn.

Come on, Taryn. Come on!

Sweat beaded along his forehead, escaping to run along his hairline and gather at the base of his neck. He didn’t dare shift his concentration off his objective, but he sensed Noah’s and Ronan’s struggles.

“She’s been in there too long, Dove!” Ronan cried. “Get the wee beastie out!”

“No!” Damian shouted, going against his fatherly instincts. “Let her finish. She’ll never forgive herself if she doesn’t wake her aunt.”

“And you won’t forgive yourself—or us—if she dies in the bleeding process!” Dubheasa snapped. “I’m going in.”

So saying, she kicked off her shoes.

“I’m ordering you to wait, Guardian,” he said.

Her expression was as distressed as Ronan’s. “Damian, please. Viv can’t lose both Taryn and her daughter.”

“She won’t.”

The sigils flared brighter than a solar flare, forcing their group to protect their eyes thereby breaking the current to the three bodies. The lights sputtered, dimmed, but held strong as Sabrina’s web rose from the pool’s depths to encircle Taryn and her two champions.

Beastie cut through the water faster than a water sprite, and her gasp was sweet relief. He blinked, dispelling his grateful tears.

Across the way, Ronan grunted and swiped an arm over his perspiration-dampened face. “Something’s holdin’ Taryn back, Dethridge, and I’m after thinkin’ it’s stronger than us.”

Damian nodded. “Yes. If I had to guess, it’s a spiritual anchor created by Authority bindings. They’ve done it before when jailing the strongest threats.”

And it was one more check in Ardghal’s column of Pros, and another reason to overthrow the institution they’d previously held sacred.

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