Page 328 of The Edge of Darkness

The flames pulsed, whipping at the air, and an overwhelming sensation of dread washed over me as I slipped away from reality.

“Maeson . . .” I tried to speak, but my voice felt far from me.

“Aremis?” She clutched onto my arm.

There was fear in her voice, and I wanted nothing more than to comfort her and tell her it was all going to be all right, but I couldn’t move.

I blinked, but I couldn’t focus.

My skin went cold.

In a last-ditch effort, I reached for the words I’d wanted to say for so long, desperate to have her hear them. If these were my final moments, I wanted her to know that I loved her.

“Maeson . . . I⁠—”

It was too late. Everything went dark, and all was lost to me.

My Aura, my power, the Aether, that was all I knew. The spell had brought it to the forefront.

The forcefield within me was all-encompassing. Its iridescence surrounded me. It had become the air I was breathing, the very life-force that was driving me, and I balked at the entrapment.

The voices, the sounds . . . it was war and chaos on a scale that was absolutely deafening. I heard the breaking of bones, the groan of leather, the tearing of flesh, the puncture of arrows finding their mark, and the splash of blood on armor and stone. It was as if the war was inside my head.

Only . . . I wasn’t in my head at all. I was somewhere else, in a realm between realms, a place where reality and my imagination blurred together.

The colors of my Aura danced through the darkness, traipsing past me. I followed them into the nothingness.

Where am I?

The iridescence paused, whirled, and drifted back toward me, as if it had heard my thought.

Ah, my Tether, a voice, both male and female, said from out of the strange void. I feel you slipping.

I wasn’t sure what it meant, and I was stunned even more to hear the Aether’s actual voice. Though it had been trapped within me, we had never spoken to one another before. It had always been a one-way conversation—me telling it what to do, and it obeying. Until I did or felt something that it did not approve of, and then it would make itself known by causing pain or reconfiguring my mind to make me detached from the experience in every way that it could.

I’m not sure what is happening . . . I admitted.

The Aether swirled, its voice changing with it. The spell you have cast has loosened my bonds.

That was . . . a good thing, right?

I am releasing you, I said.

Release . . . The Aether weighed the word on its nonexistent tongue. You no longer wish to be my vessel?

Was it truly curious? Or was this some sort of ploy to leave me trapped by my own words? Before answering, I paused, recalling what the wraith had said about the witch who had tried to unbind herself from the Aether.

I want to give you your freedom, I said. And I want mine.

The Aether fell still.

Bound are we, though not meant to be. But is he like the others? All talk and no heart? It was conversing with itself, contemplating my offer and deciding on my worth. Even with all the pieces, it continued, the soul must be willing.

I am willing to cut the tether that binds you, releasing you from all that you are attached to, flesh and magic.

Its presence drew closer, as if to take a better look at me. You wish to be free of the whispers from afar and the knowledge of the world?

Now, it was tempting me. As if it wanted me to fail.