“Why didn’t you just summon him?” Mooriah asked, eyes narrowed.
Glister tilted her head coquettishly. “I could have, but I wanted to find him for myself.” Ember’s face heated, much to his dismay. She must have used some sort of locating spell. If he could ward himself, he could prevent being found—all the more reason to train harder.
Shooting another look of disdain Mooriah’s way, Glister seemed to finally notice that both of them were wet. “What happened to you?”
“The ceiling of a tunnel back there caved in,” he said, quickly. “Water started pouring down. I’m going to have one of the maintainers see to it.” He cleared his throat. “Could be dangerous.”
Glister’s smile was brilliant. “And that’s why you’re going to make a great chieftain. Come along, we don’t want to keep Crimson waiting.” She held out a hand as though she wanted him to take it.
When he did not reach for her, she grabbed him. Unlike Mooriah’s, her palm felt clammy and sickeningly boneless. As Glister led him away, he looked over his shoulder back to where Mooriah stood with her arms crossed, watching them.
Her expression was shuttered, offering no clue to her feelings. Then she turned away.
This wasn’t how he wanted to walk away from her—in fact, he didn’t want to walk away from her. Not now or ever.
But he would go now to appease his father. He didn’t want anything to make Crimson disqualify him before the match with Rumble. After that though, all bets were off. Ember would win—somehow—and then the whole clan would know how he felt about Mooriah.
~ 10 ~
Inception of Illusion: To pass a memory on to another.
A liberal mixture of salt bronze, shadow nightshade, cinderberry, and ash of mercy may be optionally used to focus those new to working this spell. The true activator must be chosen by the mage and imbued with their intention. Light-headedness and fainting are common.
—WISDOM OF THE FOLK
Mooriah returned to the cornerstone the next day, confident she could complete her spell. Though after a fitful night tossing and turning in her bed—reliving the kiss with Ember, the way he’d felt pressed against her, and her body’s reaction—she wasn’t as bright and chipper as she could be.
She desperately wanted to know what would have happened if Glister hadn’t interrupted them. His hand had been so close to where she longed for it to be. What would it have felt like if he’d reached his destination? Her face heated, along with other parts of her body.
She still couldn’t believe Ember had taken her to a place that held so much sentimental value to him. And she had loved it. Adored being there amidst the beauty and majesty of the largest waterfall she’d ever seen or conceived of. Its strangely warm water had been comforting, and even walking back to her quarters through the tunnels soaking wet had not been a hardship.
Around Ember she felt peaceful. He wasn’t judgmental. He’d never looked down on her for any reason. And though they had never been in each other’s orbits before, she’d witnessed his kindness, compassion, and strength for years.
Something inside her had cracked open when their lips touched. The force of the feelings rushing out shocked her. She was so used to hiding everything, keeping everything tucked away so it wouldn’t be cause for criticism, that now she felt raw and without protection. Her heart was at serious risk.
Finish, and then you can see him tonight, she told herself. Of course this day would last forever until she did.
“What has you smiling so mysteriously?” Fenix asked, cutting into her thoughts.
She startled, then with great effort, blanked her face. She’d forgotten he was there. “Nothing.”
“Ah, I was hoping you’d share what put such an expression on your face. Could it be because you’re here again with me?” He grinned, his lambent eyes seeking to hypnotize her. She blinked and shook her head.
“Not everything is about you, you know.”
He chuckled. “No? If you say so.”
She groaned at his arrogance and got back to work. Amazingly enough, Fenix did as well.
She was still feeling her way around the process of integrating Nethersong into her father’s spell using the complicated weaving technique he’d described to her. Speaking of Yllis, he was nowhere to be found this morning. She squashed the pang of disappointment until it was so tiny as to almost not exist.
Mooriah flowed back into a meditative state, directing death energy around Yllis’s existing spell. She could not affect