Portia (14 page)

My breath catches. He worked and waited for twenty years. The loneliness must have been so hard. “Why didn’t you find me before? We didn’t have to talk about the Firmament.”

“Verus. Like I said, she had very specific instructions. I couldn’t see you without putting everything at risk. That was a risk I couldn’t take. Dragons mate for life.”

I inhale a shocked breath. “You mean, you waited for me for twenty years?”

“What else could I do? You’re my mate. My Rhana.” He steps closer and sets his palm on my cheek, like I did to him at the ball. “I want to share my life with you, if you’ll have me.” His gaze turns intense. “I want you to be my Empress.”

My mind stalls out. Of all the things that Tempest would say tonight, asking me to be his Empress didn’t even make the list. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Take your time, Portia. I know this is a lot to take in.” He gently runs his finger along my jawline. “You’ll have plenty of time to think about it.”

A low tremor moves across the floor. Windows rattle in their frames. Chandeliers sway and clatter. Another sinkhole is forming. Tempest’s last words echo through my mind.

You’ll have plenty of time to think about it.

My insides twist with worry. Time is what we’re running out of. “I’m afraid we have to hold off on that conversation for now. We need to find that last seedpod, Tempest.”

“I know.” He lowers his hand. “Let’s get you suited up.”

A knock sounds at the ballroom door. Tempest and I share a surprised look.

“Is anyone else here?” I ask.

“No,” says Tempest. “I sent all the guards outside.”

The door swings open. Alden steps inside. “Hey, guys.”

Shock and anger cloud my brain. “How did you get in here?”

Alden offers me an easy smile. “I told you I had some magic saved up for a rainy day.”

“That’s more than a little magic,” says Tempest with a frown. “I’ve warded this place to the hilt.”

I set my hand on Tempest’s shoulder. “However you got in here, you weren’t invited. I thought I make it clear that you needed to stay away.”

Scales appear over Tempest’s skin as he pulls me against his side. “You heard Portia. Go.”

“I will go, I swear. I just came to warn you.”

“We don’t need it,” says Tempest.

I set my palm against Tempest’s chest. The drum of his heart is beating at double time. “Alden’s helped us before.” I remember how he saved those quasis and brought news about my family. “Go on.”

“It’s about the Scintillion,” says Alden quickly. “He’s smarter than he looks. If he hasn’t killed you by now, he’ll go after someone you care about.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Then good luck to him. My family would like nothing better than to go after a Class A demon.”

Tempest pulls me against him more tightly. “Why are you telling us this?”

“Because, believe it or not, I do care if your quest succeeds. Just be ready, that’s all. The Scintillion counts on the element of surprise for his plan to work.” He rubs his neck and looks awkwardly around the empty ballroom. “That’s it. Good luck to you both. Not that you need it. You two are doing a great job.”

I’m starting to feel awkward, too. Alden’s making a real effort here.
Maybe I’ve misinterpreted him all along?
“Thank you, Alden.”

“Any time.” Alden starts to walk away, pauses, and turns around to face us again. “One last thing. I want to apologize for acting like a psychopath before. Being one of the Marked isn’t exactly a low-stress job and I lost it. Sorry.”

“I understand, Alden.” And I do. I’ve been living in a pressure cooker of the Void and the Firmament all my life.

“Thanks.” He whispers a quick incantation and disappears.

I scrub my face with my hands. Just when I think things can’t get any stranger, I’m sent back in time, tell Tempest I love him, get proposed to in return, and then have a close encounter with someone who’s either a psychopath or just really stressed out. If we live through this quest, I’m taking a year-long vacation, minimum.

But in the meantime, I have to change into my battle gear and head for the Grove. The final seedpod awaits.

Chapter Eighteen

Once again, Tempest and I stand in the Grove before the four Sacred Trees. Every few seconds, the ground trembles. Bits of earth tumble from the ceiling. My heart rate goes at double speed.

We need to finish the job and fast.

I pull the wicker sphere from around my neck and set it onto my palms. “We’re in the Grove now,” I say to the orb. “Where’s the last seedpod?”

The strands of the sphere twist into the massive proportions unique to a Sacred Tree. I run my fingers over the intricate model. “Looks like the seedpod is under one of the trees.”

Tempest nods. “I’ll check them.”

“Thanks. I’d help but I tend to get stuck.”

“No worries.” Tempest tests out the ground beneath each of the trees. At the fourth one, the lines of his shoulders tense. “I think I found it.” He digs into the soil, clearing away the earth. The top of an oval of rock appears. “And there you are.”

I kneel beside him to get a closer look. What I see makes me suck in an uneasy breath. “This one’s bigger than the others.” That makes sense, considering that Purgatory is the focal point between the other realms. It needs more energy to do its job.

Memories flicker through my mind. Everything went smoothly when we opened the seedpod in Furonium. Even so, with this much energy at play? Anything could happen. “Maybe we should try something different this time.”

“Name it, luv.” Another tremor rocks the ground. “Only best be quick.”

“I’m worried about the extra energy in this thing. Last time, we were able to control the seedpod because we worked our magic together.”

“Yes, Furor and Firmament.”

“What if we try a different spell this time? One that specifically combines our powers.”

“The idea has merit.” Tempest rubs his jawline, his gaze lost in thought. “Let’s try a fusing spell. There’s a Furor one that starts off ‘arrah kaz.’ We can raise our arms with the second verse. That will give an extra boost of power.”

“I know that spell. It’s perfect.”

The ground rolls more violently than ever before. The movement reminds me of a blanket being snapped over a bed. A huge chunk of rock tumbles from the ceiling, landing only a few feet away. My pulse kicks into high gear. “Let’s do this.” I hop to my feet.

Standing side by side, Tempest and I begin the incantation. Our voices mix, his tones deep and rolling, mine gentle and high. The air becomes charged with our unique magic. I raise my right arm parallel to the ground. Tempest does the same and sets his hand atop mine. Our combined voices grow louder as we summon the seedpod out of the earth.

The earth surrounding the fourth tree begins to shimmy. Tension rolls up my spine.
Please, let this work.
With a great heave, a circular rock breaks through the ground and settles before the tree. We raise our voices; the casting grows even more powerful. The orb’s stone shell shatters, revealing the largest sphere of golden light yet. Tempest and I start the final verse of the incantation, which is supposed to close down the spell. That isn’t what happens.

Instead, our joined powers feed off each other. Tempest’s Furor strength pulls more liquid magic from my soul. Droplets of golden power appear on our fingertips. As we finish off the spell, the fluid energy cascades from our hands onto the golden orb. It pulses more brightly.

Our spell finishes at last. The liquid energy disappears from our hands. Tempest and I share a long glance, and there’s a whole conversation hidden in that gaze.

“Did we dream that?” I ask.

“No, that really happened. We sent energy into the seedpod.”

I raise my hand and stare at my palm. Amazing. In all my research, I’ve never come across anything like this.

The ground flutters again as the rest of the golden orbs break through the earth. Like the sphere for Purgatory, they all come to rest at the bases of their trees. Tempest and I stop speaking or even moving. All our attention becomes riveted on the four yellow orbs. The spheres have turned impossibly bright. Everything around us—from the trees and twigs to the roots and soil—looks pale and almost yellow-white in the intensity.

Anticipation hangs thick in the air. Something is happening. Is this when the Firmament will finally get healed?

Each glowing sphere shifts and lengthens. My limbs quiver with excitement. The orbs continue their transformation until they take on a humanoid shape. My eyes widen with shock.

Those yellow orbs are actually living beings.

Each golden figure is curled into a fetal position at the base of a tree. Their backs turn toward the ceiling, while their arms and legs are tucked neatly beneath them. I shake my head in amazement. Tempest reaches out and grips my hand tightly. He’s just as overwhelmed as I am.

The figures start to move.

Acting in unison, the four beings stand. There are two men and two women. Every inch of their bodies glows with golden light. The men are tall, slim, and broad-shouldered. They have shaved heads and youthful faces with wide, alien-looking eyes. The men have linen kilts wrapped around their waists and thin sandals on their feet. The women are lithe and willowy with long plaited hair and dainty features. Their Egyptian-style sheaths are covered in tiny crystals. The beads on the dress of the last woman—the figure for Purgatory—shine with so much power, I have to shield my vision when I look at them.

Everything in the Grove takes on a dreamlike sheen. I blink quickly, not believing what I’m seeing. When I cast the Firmament spell at my penthouse, the incantation worked best with canopic jars. I never would’ve guessed
this
was the reason.

The four figures start to move.

Acting in sync, they turn around, stopping once they face the trees behind them. Raising their right arms, they touch the tree bark with the tips of their pointer fingers. A bright dot of light appears where their fingertips connect with the bark. The four lower their hands and draw luminescent lines down the length of the trees.

My mouth falls open with surprise and wonder. Tempest pulls me closer against him. When he speaks, his voice is hushed and reverent. “Stunning.”

I try to find words to describe the wonder I feel, but there are none. I can only nod in agreement.

The lines of light suddenly blaze brighter. After that, the trees split open, revealing their dark and hollowed-out centers. The four beings slowly turn to face us once more.

“We are the Radiant,” they say in unison. Their voices hold everything from the tinkling of bells to the rumbling of the earth. The sound is beautiful, ethereal, and unforgettable. “We rejuvenate the Sacred Trees.”

My Princess training kicks into action. “Pleased to meet you.”

In a bird-like movement, they all tilt their heads and focus on me. “You are the Marked. You must finish our work. Cast a growing spell.”

My shoulders slump with relief. A growing spell? Now that, I can handle. I could do those back when saying two-word incantations took me days. Now that I can tap into the power of the Firmament, I should be able to manage it, no problem.

“Yes, I can cast a growing spell.”

“And I’ll help,” says Tempest. Based on the steel in his voice, the topic is not up for discussion.

The Radiant nod in reply. After that, they all step backward, moving to stand directly inside the opened trees behind them. Their bodies cast a warm glow within the hollow trunks. The Radiant all fold their arms across their chests. The position reminds me of mummies in a sarcophagus.

A dark realization comes into focus. This is how humans used canopic jars in ancient Egypt. Something that once contained life had to go inside the jars in order to make them work. Now, the Radiant will be sealed inside the trees, their life force slowly drained to sustain the Firmament.

The Radiant fix their luminescent eyes on me. The heavy bark closes around their feet. The trees continue to seal around them, higher and higher. The trees soon fasten around their ankles and knees.

I wince in sympathy. No one knows canopic jar magic like I do. The trees will slowly pull energy from the Radiant. That kind of transfer hurts like hell.

The bark closes over their waists. The faces of the Radiant twitch with held-in pain. Their hands tremble in their crossover position. The bark then closes over their faces. All their mouths become frozen in silent screams.

For a full minute, I can only stare at the four Firmament trees. Worry prickles across my skin. The Radiant are all inside, but the trees remain bare and spindly. Their thin branches look like skeletal arms that reach up for help. My stomach sinks. The Firmament is not healed. I need to do what the Radiant asked.

“We have to cast that growing spell now,” I say.

“Which one?” asks Tempest.

“Let’s try another Furor incantation. There’s one that begins with ‘rah krall.’”

“I know it.”

Together, we begin the spell. This time, Tempest’s power is strong, but my Firmament energy is strangely weak. Something is off. I can barely tap into a faint trickle of power. An unsettled feeling weighs down my bones. We finish the incantation and wait. The quiet of the Grove rings loudly in my ears.

Will this work? Have we finally done it?

The ground trembles. A low rumble echoes through the forest. My heart skips a beat or two. Is that the sign of a sinkhole… Or of something far better?

The scent of fresh earth fills the air. The four Firmament trees start to grow. Their branches thicken with health. Roots twist deep into the soil, making the ground shimmy. Their trunks rise a few feet into the air.

And then, they all stop. Everything turns silent. Long moments tick by. Nothing else happens. Threads of doubt wind through my thoughts.

“Do you think we did it?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” says Tempest.

I stare at the trees, willing them to move. They don’t budge. The ground shifts, though. Small sinkholes punch through the Grove floor. Adrenaline and alarm charge through me. The Firmament trees lurch at odd angles.