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He clamped his jaw then finally gave me a tight nod and released my wrist. With a deep breath, I put the vial to my lipsand tipped my head back. I swallowed the sickeningly sweet nectar and the glowing words.
A sudden sharp vision blackened out everything else, a god vision.
A stunningly beautiful brown-haired and brown-skinned fae in a green dress walked through the woods, weeping. Not a fae. It was Elska, Goddess of the Wood. “They must mourn and remember their magick, their goodness,” she whispered as she knelt at a pool of water and whispered to her reflection, “or all will perish.”
Then I was back in the cave, a shot of pain streaking through my veins and stinging my wrists. My head snapped back as I gasped, the overwhelming sensation of power too big for my body filled me up. Then just as suddenly, it was gone.
“Una!” Goll reached for me, but something miraculous happened.
My wings fluttered on their own. Not simply fluttered. They beat with purpose, lifting me off the ground until my feet were at eye level with Goll. His feyfire cloak vanished as I stared down in wonder at this miracle.
I cried tears of joy, even as the effort was tiring my body quickly. “I can fly,” I whispered, voice shaking.
Then it was too much, my strength exhausted from simply hovering above the floor. I lowered quickly, Goll caught me when I would’ve tipped over.
“I flew,” I whispered to him, tears brimming my eyes.
His smile beamed with pride and something more tender. “You did, my mizrah.”
I hadn’t even noticed the three sprites were back to singing their song merrily, flying and dancing around us midair.
Pulling from Goll’s arms, I looked down, knowing there were new words etched into my skin by the gods. “What does this new sign mean?” I asked Goll.
He looked down, but it was Tikka who zipped over and tapped my wrist. “It sayshealer,” she told me delightedly, seeming to want to beat Goll to it.
“Healer?” I asked in a whisper, blinking back the tears.
Goll’s hands were wrapped around my upper arms. He gave a gentle squeeze, smiling at me. Without me saying, he knew how important my healing magick had been. But I didn’t feel I had that power living inside me. Not yet.
I turned to the sprites. “What do I do now? Will this magick help against the plague?” I asked Zu.
All three stopped singing, still joyful as Zu flew back to us. “Yes, when you have all of the words,” she answered. “But the god words are bigger than the plague.”
“I don’t understand,” I told her.
“You will. But you must ingest all of the texts.”
“Why?” I asked. “What happens then?”
“The spell is not complete until all the words are together.”
“Two more! Two more!” yelled Geta and Tikka.
I had the prophecies in my book on the other two texts, though I needed Goll’s help deciphering exactly where to find one of them. The other was quite clear where to go.
“Are they all like this one?” I asked, wondering if they’d all be in pools of water.
But they went back to singing their strange song, circling higher and higher until they zipped out of the opening of the cave and left us altogether.
When I turned back to Goll, he was looking at me with an enigmatic expression. “What is it?”
He cupped my face. “How do you feel?”
Smiling, I admitted honestly, “Absolutely wonderful.”
“Good.” He nodded, still frowning. “I can sense magick inside you. Old magick. Like what I sense in the lower depths of Vixet Krone. Like what emanates from Näkt Lykenzel.”
Blinking back to the moment I swallowed the words in the vial, the god-touched text, I told him what I’d seen in the brief vision. “It was definitely Elska. But what did she mean they must mourn and remember their magick and goodness or all will perish?”
