Page 69 of The Witch's Spell
I wish Faelynn were here. As my eldest sibling, she’s always looked after me, and her magic ismuchstronger than mine. Truly, all my siblings and family members are more powerful than I am. They probably would’ve had no problem fixing the portal.
I sigh. Being the youngest comes with its perks, but it comes with its disadvantages as well.
“Are you ready?” Aurora asks.
I jerk my head up and meet her eyes. She’s smiling lightly, but again, it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Yes,” I say. “Whenever you are.”
She takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “Well, I guess it’s now or never. Let’s see if this works.”
Chapter 33
Aurora
FAOLAN, ALDEN, ROWAN, AND HARRISON watch us from the tree line. They’re outside the ring of crystals Rowan set up, just in case. I don’t want them stuck in here with us if something goes wrong. And there’s a high chance something could go wrong. I still don’t know if I’m powerful enough to help Thorne with this plan. But I’m going to do my best. Everyone is depending on me. Onus. I can’t walk away now.
Thorne and I stand in the center of the clearing. He’s across from me, looking down into my eyes. I’ve grown slightly more used to his unglamoured face, but when he’s out in the woods like this, in a meadow hidden beneath snow and with the cloud cover overhead, he looks even more otherworldly. Every so often when I look at him, I can see how obvious it is that he’s not human. If his subtle shimmer didn’t give him away, the rest of him surely would.
“Will you take my hands?” he asks, holding his palms out to me. Rowan is holding his cane, and Thorne stands slightly askew, but he doesn’t look to be in pain.
With a small nod, I remove my mittens and tuck them into the deep inside pockets of my cloak. Then I ease my bare hands into his. And as soon as our skin makes contact, I’m whisked back to yesterday on Niamh’s couch. I feel his naked skin on mine, hear his breathing in the candlelit room. It makes my stomach flutter, but I quickly force those feelings down.
If this works, Thorne will be free to leave. For all I know, these might be my last few moments with him. And even though it pains me, I want to enjoy them. I don’t want to squander what could be my last chance to see him, to touch him.
I force my eyes to meet his, and for the first time since yesterday, I hold his gaze steadily. “I’m ready. Just tell me what to do.”
His fingers wrap around mine. “I don’t need you to try to control the magic, but I do want to attempt to calm it. Chaotic magic is unpredictable magic. If we can calm its chaos, it will be easier for me to redirect. Can you do that?”
My teeth nibble my bottom lip. “I’ll do my best.”
A brief smile flickers across Thorne’s inhuman face. “I believe in you, Aurora. You can do this.”
When tears threaten my eyes, I quickly close them.
Then I take another deep breath, grip Thorne’s fingers, and tap into the earth’s energy through the thick soles of my winter boots.
She’s a bit harder to find when I’m separated from her with footwear, which is one of the reasons I prefer to go barefoot whenever possible. But after a moment, I find her beating heart, and I reach out to it, connect to it until my pulse thrums in time with hers.
I picture a whirling vortex of fog—not so unlike the one Thorne used to separate Faolan and Cathal—then seek to comfort it, to calm it without subduing it. I already imbued the quartz crystals with my intention: to stabilize the energy, but not to hold or absorb it. Last time I tried that, the fairy magic shattered my crystals, expressing its refusal to be tamed.
I don’t want to tame you, I think.Just calm you. Reassure you. Ground you.
I breathe in and out, then whisper to Thorne, “Okay. Your turn.”
His fingers tighten on mine, comforting me, holding me firm. “Brace yourself.”
With my eyes still closed, I hear rather than see Thorne’s magic. The wind around us picks up slowly, increasing in its intensity with every moment that passes. Only when I’m certain I have a strong hold on my stabilizing magic do I dare open my eyes.
Across from me, Thorne stands tall, his eyes closed. His white hair billows around his face as the wind circles us. And in the distance, being pulled through the trees like water being drawn down a riverbed, is the fog.
It rolls toward us, soon impeding my view of the others, who’re still standing at the tree line.There’s so much fog, I can’t see through it. All I can see is Thorne standing across from me.
There’s a furrow in his brow now, a look of focused concentration on his face. The wind intensifies, feeling like it wants to lift me off my feet.
So I call upon the earth, ask her to keep both me and Thorne rooted here.
In response, I feel something slithering across my boots, and I look down to find strong brown roots have wrapped around my ankles and Thorne’s. A smile threatens my lips, but it’s quickly whisked away by the fog as it begins to spiral around us even faster now.
