The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,71

is, our recent losses have caused great mourning,” she stated softly. “But they have also released great amounts of magic. It goes without saying we, all of us, would wish the witches who bore that magic to be amongst us, using their gifts to fight our foes. They are not. Thus, we must endeavor to use what they have left for us. Use it in their honor and use it to ensure their lives on this earth, and their deaths for a righteous cause, were not in vain.”

“I am uncertain if this is a good idea,” Rebecca said worriedly.

“It might not be,” Nandra replied. “But drawing down that amount of power would be useful.”

“I don’t understand what this means,” Silence murmured.

“We must draw down Mum’s, Jasmine’s, Rose’s and the magics of all the other Nadirii who fell,” Elena explained.

“And it must be yours,” Melisse told the prophesied. “The four of yours.”

“I would include Serena,” Elena said.

Melisse inclined her head.

Ha-Lah was glancing around before she asked, “Is this not normally done?”

“It is avoided, unless needed, such as in a time like this,” Rebecca shared. “We, all of us, absorb magic naturally. It is not done to make maneuvers to take more than we can organically absorb. But beyond that, it is generally agreed it is not right to take more than our fair share. But mostly, too much magic is a burden to bear. It can get unwieldy. It can make your command of it unreliable. And unreliable magic is as you would expect, not good, especially for those who try to use it.”

“As my command of it is already unreliable, is this wise?” Farah asked.

“Risks are never wise, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be taken,” Nandra answered.

“And I would assume, as you are the prophesied,” Melisse put in, “that you would be able to wield much more than most.”

Although this made sense, none of the women at the stones looked comfortable with that.

But none of them said a word against it.

“And thus, we have a plan,” Melisse decreed.

All nodded.

“We understand our assignments?” Melisse pressed.

All nodded.

Melisse looked amongst them.

And then she whispered…

“So mote it be.”

137

The Shimmering

King Mars

Guest Bedchamber, Sky Citadel, Sky Bay

AIREN

“I do not like this,” Mars growled to his wife who sat astride him in their bed as he rested his shoulders against the headboard.

She was wearing far too many clothes.

This being naught but a nightgown.

Though she was also wearing his marital chain, which soothed him.

But after she had shared what she had shared that she’d learned from the Great Coven, even his chain she wore so proudly, something he loved immensely, did not provide enough comfort.

“They think it’s the right thing to do,” Silence replied.

“You are admirable with your magic, bellezza. But it is new to you. Is it not important you have a firm grasp on what you have before you take in more?”

Silence put her hands on his chest and leaned down to get closer to him.

“I think that evidence suggests that the Beast has risen, Mars. And if he has, I think we need all the power we can get.”

Mars looked beyond her, the feeling in his stomach not one he enjoyed, even if the words she said were right.

She tugged on the point of his beard and his gaze came back to her.

“We are prophesied,” she reminded him.

“The prophecy is that we are the only ones who can fight this creature with any hope of victory. There is no guarantee of defeating it,” he reminded her in return.

“We are formidable,” she whispered, using his own words of months ago as to what he felt of their union.

And they were. He believed that to his bones.

In truth, his unease in that moment was not simply this information shared after she went with the other women to meet the Coven.

It was the news that the Beast was amongst them.

Men, he could and would fight, doing this at all times with great confidence he would prevail.

And he was learning his wife had skills and power, which she used deftly, and of which he was tremendously proud.

But Silence flinging balls of fire at sorcerers and Silence facing the Beast were two vastly different things.

“Mars,” she called, and the focus on her he had lost, he again gained.

“I wish to make children with you,” he said softly.

“I know,” she replied in the same tone as her beautiful face grew gentle and her eyes turned quicksilver.

“I wish to watch you grow old,” he continued, moving his hands from her hips