until I can’t make Lukas out. And then the whooshing spiral abruptly flows toward an indentation in the hillock’s wall of rock, Lukas’s tall form visible once more. Wood crackles against stone as Lukas rapidly weaves the branches into a domed structure against the concavity, lines of his earth magery flowing around the wood in slender vines that cinch the branches tightly together.
Lukas is coldly efficient as the storm turns into a violent deluge, and I find both his stunning display of earth magery and his ability to remain so calmly competent in the face of everything to be deeply steadying.
As I watch through the sheeting rain, he burns a door into the structure and angles its top outward to create an awning of sorts. Then he strides toward the dwelling he’s created, points his wand at the entrance, and sounds another spell.
Debris flies out of the enclosure, and Lukas hurls it at the forest with a sweep of his arm. Then he sounds another spell, and a rush of thick fog billows out, lit eerily red by our lantern light.
Another ear-piercing crack of thunder sounds as lightning forks down from the clouds, slamming into the forest not far from where we’re standing, and my pulse skitters in response to its proximity. I continue to soothe the spooked horses, patting necks and speaking to them in low, calm tones as rain batters down, the smell of scorched storm energy on the air.
“We should get our packs out of the rain,” Lukas calls out as he strides over to me, his hood off, his black hair curled into wet tendrils.
We unhitch our rain-drenched packs and our lanterns from the horses, and then loosen the girths of their saddles. I give mine an apologetic pat for not taking the tack off and giving it a proper grooming, but we have to be able to go quickly if needed. Gathering my pack and lantern, I follow Lukas, half running, into the shelter, hoping the horses will be all right with the natural covering they have. At least with the amount of rain here, there’s plenty of grass for them to eat.
Ducking down, we both slide into the enclosure just as the storm fully unleashes and turns violent, the rain an impenetrable curtain shot through with lightning flashing and thunder booming in a fierce, overlapping chorus.
Lukas lowers himself to one knee in the dwelling’s center, his face and form lit by the flickering scarlet glow of the lanterns he’s set down beside him. He raises his wand and murmurs a spell as he draws his other hand back, palm forward, as if drawing something into the wand.
My whole body warms as rain is drawn from my cloak, my skirts, my skin, and flies toward Lukas’s wand to be instantly consumed into a tight, churning ball of water that’s suspended in the air, just over his wand’s tip.
Lukas pulls the water off himself as well and feeds it into the expanding sphere, then hurls the ball of water out of the dwelling through its small entrance, my body and clothes now dry and much warmer, the smell of damp diminished.
With a look of deep concentration, Lukas points his wand at the shelter’s domed ceiling and gracefully moves it back and forth, his motion as precise as an orchestra conductor’s. A slim stream of black vines courses out from his wand’s tip and threads all through the structure’s roof, creating an increasingly watertight surface. Then he sheathes his wand, pulls off his cloak, and hangs it across the entrance.
It’s not a large structure he’s fashioned. Just big enough for the two of us to lie in comfortably on the dry moss, and just high enough for Lukas to stand if he stoops a bit.
“Lukas,” I venture as the immensity of the situation bears down. His eyes meet mine. “Do you think Vogel will find us here?”
“I think it’s unlikely. This is a big stretch of wilderness we’ve crossed. I don’t know of any search spell with that range. And a tracking beast would need to follow your scent, which is near impossible with this rain.” He regards me squarely. “But it seems as if Vogel’s tapped into some primordial system of magic...”
“Demonic magic,” I amend firmly.
Lukas nods in grim agreement. “Perhaps. The old magical rules might not apply. Vogel’s wand seems to be amplifying his magic, so I’m not sure what he’s capable of.”
A chill ripples down the sides of my neck just as a resonant