Elex rushed us from the cave. “Kimber, are you sure you don’t need my help? Or, maybe, we should have a drink first to celebrate our discovery?”
I knew what the druid was up to.
A little drink here. A little more there.
Then I might say yes.
I wasn’t that foolish. Not always, anyway.
“I have to do this carefully. This is joy beyond joy, and I have to convey that reverently to the Temple Masters, or they will dismiss me. I cannot go in smelling like dirt and wine.” I insisted on my own schedule to the temple and my announcement.
He winked. “Then let me help you shower.”
My finger sealed his lips. “I haven’t forgotten your kiss that quickly. But this must be done right. There’ll be such joy and celebration, but let me go. For now.”
My friend’s strong muscled arms snaked around my waist. In the next moment, Elex pulled me to him. We touched from head to toe.
“I’ve been afraid to show you what you mean to me,” his honest words whispered against the shell of my ear. Elex slanted his mouth across mine, the kiss soft, deep. Perfect.
Pure fire simmered through my body.
“That…,” he whispered across my lips, “…was to refresh your memory of what waits for you when you’re done with this.”
“I am reminded,” I breathed.
Then he was gone.
My eyelashes fluttered in shock as I opened my eyes. But I caught a glimpse of him—and a perfect backside—as he walked down another street, the right one leading to his house.
How had I never realized Elex harbored those feelings for me? I’d always held back what I really felt for him. At that moment, I was already grateful to the magic in the mountain. It pulled down a wall I didn’t know was there.
Without breaking into a run, which was very, very hard, I managed to get to my own apartment and slam the door. I leaned against the wood and looked around.
I could see the magic everywhere now. Threads of light and colors danced through the air. Reaching out, I ran my finger along one small thread, and it sang for me, a crystal tone that trembled through all the threads nearby.
No one ever described magic as alive.
But it was, my fingers tickling it.
The kaleidoscope of beauty vibrated before me.
Maybe…
Maybe, after the mountain rose, no one had ever seen magic this way. Perhaps the mountain hoarded the magic until the right time.
Or the right person.
I visibly shuddered. That was even more frightening.
I had to talk to the Temple Masters. Immediately.
Tearing through my apartment, the colors of magic faded as though they were trying not to distract me. I yanked my closet doors open and evaluated my collection of clothes.
Gods and stars, I was boring.
Teaching tunic after teaching tunic, probably two weeks’ worth hung there. White, beige, taupe, cream, eggshell, off-white. Oh! I was risky. I even had some variety of pale yellow.
I snorted and kept searching.
Several casual outfits were also there, in intersting shades of grey, black, and charcoal. Two formal dresses, one in black, one in charcoal were tucked in the corner.
I needed more clothes.
At the other end was the outfit I was looking for. A pale blue formal set, with a flowing skirt and modest bodice that sparkled in the light of the room.
This dress I’d worn to every temple function.
It was tradition at the temple to have just one dress. There was never any doubt who you were. Everyone knew what to wear. Everyone was expecting you to show up in that dress each time. It bordered on scandalous if someone dared to show up in something new.
A person wasn’t a member of the temple if they showed off and dressed up. There was always a solemn edge to all of the temple’s festivities.
The formal stature of the gown was textbook.
Glancing at the clock, I had to hurry. The Temple Masters gathered for dinner and had a small, private audience after. I could still make it.
The guards couldn’t deny me entrance as an acolyte.
While I did walk through the streets quickly, I also took the time to think about what I was going to say, how I was going to approach those grumpy old buzzards.
Dorian would be the worst.
Oh, would Dorian be the worst, by a long shot.
He was the oldest of the council, and…
Well, an asshole.
He had started pushing me to make my decision about being dedicated to the temple because he insisted I could not remain an acolyte.
Nothing in the Temple Texts said that. It was tradition for an acolyte to be dedicated to the temple or separate, but there was nothing anywhere that said I must decide. He’d badgered me for twenty years. I researched for twenty years. There was nothing. But he was the oldest and the most powerful of the council.
And, now, I had to explain magic called me to the mountain, and made me its servant. Far more than any power in the temple ever had.
How?
Why me?
I dismissed the second question. There was no point in thinking about it at all. The first one—how?—was more important currently.
How did I convince a council of twelve grumpy bastards—and I was including the five women in that bastard title because they were just as bad as the men—that the mountain called to me.
Never had I shown a unique talent with magic. I was a true-blooded druid. Both my father and my mother were from the Old Families, but that didn’t guarantee I was talented.
Until today, I hadn’t been.
I had been mediocre at best.
Taking shorter strides, I looked around me. The magic had faded back when I wasn’t paying attention, but as soon as I looked for it, it lit up.
The strands and strings were bright and strong.
They danced in the air, waiting.
Waiting for whoever would call them.
A couple I passed was surrounded by a thin mist, enveloped by light yellow magic.
Another was surrounded by an intense red bubble.
Another, an orange cloud.
And still another, a bright blue fog.
The auras were a fact of life.
I’d never viewed them quite this well or this easily.
The rousing of the mountain was meant to be a joy. The two worlds of S’Kir, that of the vampires and druids, were meant to be reunited and the Lost God to return. We would have a King and Queen again. There would be revelry in the streets and dancing in the squares, fireworks in the sky, and twirling fountains on the lakes.
Delight and excitement bubbled up inside me. There was so much happiness due to the people of S’Kir. And I was going to deliver the news to the Temple Masters that it was time.
Finally, time for joy and celebration.
The smile lodged firmly on my face bolstered me, and the wonderful thoughts of such celebration put a bounce in my step like no other.
My walk almost became a skip—how undignified.
The people around me stared at my formal dress in the middle of the week, with no declared festivals or celebrations. I didn’t care. I was delivering marvelous news, and my heart would not sit still.
The residences of the temple were in a different area from the school and the temple proper. Behind the school, down a path that wound away from the temple entrance, were the residences’ thirteen buildings.
One massive center building hosted the common area, with kitchens, library, receiving and conference rooms, a gym, and a smaller temple. The other twelve buildings circled the main one, each the private home of the Temple Masters. Not evenly spread around in a circle, they bunched slightly to the back to allow a pathway through a massive old hedge and tree tunnel that lead to the main entrance of the big building.
The necklace I wore proclaimed me an acolyte.
No guards tried to approach.
A building as old as time, bound to its eternal splendor by spells and magic weavings, it gleamed white, even in the deepening night. The moon rose, and it cast an eerie shadow on the white bricks. I could see the magic used now, and watched a moment as it cleaned the façade nearby, scouring the bacteria that tried to ruin mortar.
I raised my right hand and knocked with tremendous force on the thick, unyielding doors. The knock barely made a sound on the wood, as though the door swallowed it whole.
The doors creaked.
Parted to swing open.
No one opened them. Magic did.
I gathered up the courage to enter and held my head high. I had never been here before. Everything I had done with the temple had been in the school and in the Dedicants’ dorms.
This was a very different place.
The Lost God had lived here once.
With as much reverence—and silence from my shoes—as I could summon, I strode forward.
And saw.
The massive rotunda streamed with magic, the threads tumbling from the heights above in magnificent waterfalls of color and light, flashing and dancing, laughing—welcoming. I could see beyond them as though they were a painted glass, the walls covered in murals and statues. The ceiling was a dome, concave step pyramids lining it, and an opening in the top center that would let the sun, or moon, shine down.
A masculine voice, hard-edged. “What is the meaning of this?”
I whirled on my feet, to the dramatic arch opposite the main door. Master Dorian stood there, flanked by Master Hedregon and Mistress Lunella.
My courage almost fled, but I pulled it back and stood straighter. “Masters, Mistress. I am Acolyte Kimber Raven, a teacher in the temple school. I have to report a joyful and wonderful occurrence in the mountains.”
“This couldn’t wait until morning?” Master Dorian’s eyes rolled in his head. I suspected if he rolled them any harder, he might sprain them.
“Master, I know you do not regard me highly for my indecision on my path forward, but the mountain called me tonight. Its magic beckoned me to a cave below.”
“The magic speaks—”
“Not like this,” I dared to cut him off. “Never like this. The mountain cracked below, and the walls were full of crystals. The magic there was so thick and rich. Your excellencies, I think the Breaking Time has arrived.”
Master Dorian rolled his eyes again and turned his back to me, walking to the back of the quarter. “You are an infant, Miss Raven. You have no idea of what you’re speaking about.”
“Mistress Lunella,” I said, bowing respectfully in her direction. “Will you hear me out?”
Her sigh said everything.
“Master Hedregon?” I probed.
He pursed his lips.
My nostrils flared. “You aren’t going to listen to an acolyte of your own temple? I don’t speak in hyperbole. I’m not given to hysterics. I have been a faithful servant to our people.”
“You are a child to us,” Master Dorian snapped from the distance. “You have no knowledge of power and magic that even begins to rival ours.”
Pompous ass!
“Excellency, I—”
“Be still, child,” the voice that interrupted was calm and deep as the ocean.
Master Tymon walked into the rotunda from behind his fellow masters. He placed an arm on Mistress Lunella and guided her to the side, allowing him access to glide in front of their group. He beckoned me with one finger. “Come forward, young one. You say the mountain spoke to you?”
“Called me, master,” I corrected him even as I obeyed him, stepping forward until I was at arm’s length.
“And what did you see in the cave?”
“Crystals, sir. Colors and light dancing in the rocks. My companion said he could see the magic respond to my laugh through the crystals.”
“And now? What do you see?” His hand swept the vast space of the hall.
“Threads of magic, sir. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands, some falling from the walkway above, some seemingly alive on the floors and walls around us.”
“Can you show us?”
I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t think of a way to show them the magic I could now see.
A moment later, the magic told me how.
A sweet whisper in my ear.
Extending my palm up, a thread dropped to my touch and spun like a dust devil, swirling and twirling, and gathering more thread to itself. With my other finger, I touched the whirling dervish in my hand. It was soft and gentle, nothing at all like what a tornado should feel like. Bringing my lips closer to the tiny maelstrom, I dusted a breath across it, and whispered, “Glow.”
A cascade of chimes surrounded my body as the magic flowed. Down from the whirlwind, out into the air, and creating its own waterfall. Cascading down to the floor, the threads lit each one they touched and a new chime added to the beautiful cacophony.
I watched as the colors and lights of the magic glowed more brilliantly than the moment before. Traveling across the floor, the threads seemed to catch fire when they reached the waterfalls that surround the rotunda. A burst of light flew up the threads, and soon, the whole room was aglow, and the chimes were melodic, sweet, and calming.
I tipped my head back to stare up.
Master Dorian was suddenly beside me.
Confusion and anger danced in his eyes.
He demanded, “How are you doing this, acolyte?”
“I listened to what the magic told me to do.”
“So you lied or you are too stupid to understand a simple question. It is speaking to you.” His piercing blue eyes narrowed, and he brushed aside his white-blond hair from his forehead. “You are nothing but a middling—”
“Dorian.” Mistress Lunella raised a hand. “With all respect to your station as the oldest of us, hush.”
Master Tymon nodded at Mistress Lunella.
They studied my person from head to toe.
Eventually, the master conceded, “You are well known to us, my dear. A bright, brilliant, but not naturally gifted druid. And now you can do this?”
“Sir, I’m just as overwhelmed as anyone else. The mountain called, and I answered. The magic has become stronger even from the time I left the cave until my arrival here.”
Master Dorian snorted with an arrogant wave at my head—almost whacking me with his palm. “You cannot believe this child, Tymon. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not, Dorian,” Master Tymon said, smiling. He turned his regard in my direction once more. “You see, the friend she spoke of—who is Elex Everettson—contacted the Geology Guild, who, in turn, contacted me to let me know there was a cave that needed exploring. I instructed them to send several geologists and two of our master magic wielders to check this cave and our acolyte’s claim.”
Master Tymon whirled around to Dorian. The masters stared at one another quietly, both silently considering the other. Master Tymon finally stated, “I’m not afraid of the Breaking Time. I would welcome it. It’s been too long since we saw our vampire brothers and sisters. It’s time.”
Master Dorian’s ice-cold eyes found mine. “Her. Of all people in S’Kir? Her.”
I lifted one brow, chiding, “Who are you asking that question of, Master Dorian? Me or the magic?”
He didn’t bother to respond.
Releasing my gaze, he fixed his sights on Master Tymon. “You’ve sent someone out to survey this place she claims called her?”
“Yes, I have. Although, Mr. Everettson is one of our finest trained geologists, and his gift with magic is strong. I trust his word, and he is in my purview. Why do you not trust one of your own?” Master Tymon cocked his head.
Master Dorian rubbed at his chin in thought.
I held my breath, the air burning in my lungs. I wasn’t scared of Master Dorian. While he was my teacher and the master of the school, he was just generally…an ass.
Master Hedregon continued his hushed stance.
“I trust her,” he finally said. “If your study team has seen the cave she claims is breaking.”
“They will be reporting back in just a few minutes.”
I cast a glance to the powerful, stubborn man next to me. I hedged, “I still don’t understand why you won’t take me at my word, Master Dorian.”
“We’ve had hysterical claims before. Just like yours. I won’t take steps based on the claim of just one acolyte teacher who was, until mere moments ago, barely adept at using magic.”
Mistress Lunella crossed her arms over her chest. “Dorian, you are being quite the asshole to this young woman.”
“We have had false alarms.”
“Not with her.” Her forehead crinkled in disappointment. “You don’t have to make her feel like this is not important! All our acolytes—imbued with magic or not—are critical to the survival of this temple and this school. So, Master Dorian, shove it.”
I liked Mistress Lunella.
A heartbeat passed, and Master Dorian pivoted on his heel and marched out of the rotunda, displeasure in the tightness of his broad shoulders.
Master Tymon and Mistress Lunella shook their heads and dismissed him. Turning back to me, they smiled—and I could see they were genuinely pleased I had come to them with the news.
“Have you eaten tonight, Miss Raven?” Mistress Lunella questioned.
“Yes, mistress.”
“Then allow me to offer you a drink.” A graceful hand motioned me to the inner sanctum of the Masters’ Hall, and there was no way to refuse. “Let’s at least wait for Mister Everettson in comfort. There are things to discuss yet.”
The sitting room, done in shades of ivory and red, and peppered with all kinds of chairs, chaises, and sofas, was a welcoming, lush retreat from the massive, echoing chamber of the entrance hall.
I was in a sacred space now. This was something I hadn’t anticipated or expected. I thought perhaps that I might wait in the rotunda or an antechamber. Not the sitting room of the masters.
“Mistress Lunella.” I dared to lay a hand on her arm and keep her from walking away from me. “Please. If this is the Breaking Time, is it not an appropriate time to begin the celebrations? Don’t the people of S’Kir—”
The grin she graced me with was blinding. “My dear. If this is the Breaking Time, our joyous celebrations shall last through years. The people of S’Kir have kept the Lost God alive. That he will return to us and reunite us is cause for joy.”
She leaned in closer to me but stared at where Master Dorian had planted himself in the corner. “We may even be able to get a smile out of Master Dorian.”
My chuckle slipped out.