Page 88 of Fate Unchained

When she’d been sitting at the tea table, she’d had a vision of herself taking out the grimoire to get a last hint of Kyril’s scent. Had Morana seen that? She must have.

A chill swept down Lilah’s spine. This was powerful magic, and Lilah was no match for a seasoned magicwielder.

Lilah straightened. That wasn’t true, though. With Kyril’s help, she’d already gotten loads better at using her magic. She’d even started using some of the tuthark runes. Morana didn’t have the power to speak to runes.

“Where is the missing page? The one with the rest of the spell you want me to finish?”

Morana continued to pet the grimoire. “So far, the spells in the grimoire to defeat the vulk have been less than effective. The key spell says it will deliver the vulk’s greatest vulnerability to him, making it easier to kill him, but how? I’ve tried twice now, and it’s done nothing.”

In the past couple of weeks, Lilah had read the grimoire so much she’d memorized every word. The spell Morana referenced was the hex Kyril thought was the same one performed on Hans by the necromancer last year. It was all about creating the vulk’s vulnerability, then hexing him, but the spell was long and complicated, and since she wasn’t a magicwielder, it was over her head. She could have asked Hazel to evaluate it, but … she hadn’t.

It wasn’t that she distrusted her, she didn’t want anyone else knowing about a spell to hurt the vulk. Maybe she’d made a mistake and should have told Hazel. “That spell doesn’t involve a rune.”

“I decided to focus on another spell,” Morana said. “The one you started when you caged the vulk. Boris, show her the page.”

Boris walked over, put his hand inside his vest, and drew out a battered piece of parchment. Lilah took it and read it. Then read it again.

Baba Yaga had been right, the rune could be ensorcelled, but it had to be ensorcelled by a true wyrdstaave. What Boris had done with the leshak was only temporary, and he couldn’t tap into its true power because he wasn’t a real wyrdstaave, but she could.

And Herskala wrote exactly how much power came from the union. A power like no one can ever understand. The power to rule all of Ulterra.

“Go ahead.” Morana waved at the window. “It’s dusk. Use your power. Feel it. Let it consume you.” The words dripped over her.

It was time to choose what to do with the rune. Lilah slid her finger across the paper and whispered the words.

Wind whipped through the library. Books flew from the shelves and slammed against walls. A dark fog filled the air, and inky black, as if it were dying, the rune rose into the air, sandwiched between two runes binding it in place. It twisted and writhed, and from the black fog, the leshak rose to its full, fifteen-foot height. Its burning green eyes landed on her, and she stepped backward.

Morana reached toward the leshak. “I’ve been bound to a leshak before. Her chin rose and her eyes flashed. “The power is intoxicating. I want you to work on returning my leshak next.”

Lilah swallowed hard. That could never happen.

She raised her arm, and her hand glowed. The large rune, her rune, spun. The power called to her like a soft wind, sucking at her skin. One word, and it would bind to her, making the leshak and its magic hers. Lilah would have enough power to do whatever she wanted.

Or she could release the rune right now and let it follow whatever path it was on. It may not return to her. It may not give her the chance to be with Kyril again. First, a rune will bind, but only a bite permanently entwines. With true love, it must be done, or two will never be one. They may have lost their chance.

Lilah spoke. The two runes binding her rune shattered. Freed, her rune shot up into the air, shedding the inky darkness and turning gold again. Then it disappeared.

The leshak roared. Its vivid green eyes dimmed, but it remained in the library.

Lilah sagged. She’d thought if the rune was released, the leshak would return to wherever it came from. However, maybe she’d weakened it.

Morana shrieked. “No!” She leaped forward and grabbed Lilah’s shoulder. Her fingers dug in, hot and sharp. With a yell Lilah jerked, but Morana didn’t let go. The scent of licorice filled the air, the room swirled, and the same strange green glow surrounded her.

She was back sitting at her aunt’s table, in her aunt’s kitchen. She sat utterly alone, with the same soul-crushing sadness pressing on her. “Remember, you can’t count on anyone,” the lulling voice whispered, repeating what it said before. This time she recognized the voice. It was Morana’s. She rolled her shoulder. It still ached from the enchanter’s fingers, but where was she?

Morana had formed this enchantment before to show her possible future but also to enchant her to find out where the grimoire was hidden.

Her hands clenched into fists. No. That wasn’t going to be the life she would return to. She’d spent most of her life hidden away in books, keeping the real world at a distance, but it was so much better to live it.

Rain still pounded against the window, an insistent tapping on the panes.

She frowned. Wait, this time, it wasn’t only the rain. Her rune, much smaller but still glittering, flung itself against the pane of glass. It had come back! Lilah leaped up from her seat. She cranked the window open and grabbed her rune.

The pervasive sadness lifted. A white glow surrounded her, pushing back the green. The floor tilted, and she fell backward. The same puff of air like when she stepped through a portal pulled at her clothes, and when the walls stopped turning, she stood in another house, one she wasn’t familiar with. What was going on?

She whirled around, and there was a younger Morana, her hair short and wild as she sat across from an older woman, a fire blazing next to them. Above the mantel hung a small dagger, similar to the one Lilah still had at her waist, but this one glittered in a way that showed it was pure silver.

Morana shot to her feet. “How could he leave?”

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