Page 194 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“Rora, calm down,” the tall black haired male next to my brother said, but the girl had slid too far down her panic. The air was misting with frost and the Olympian sky suddenly poured soft flakes of snow.

Linking an arm around her waist, my brother pulled her against his chest and put a hand on her face. “Calm down!” he shouted and then softly added, “She will come back, I know she will. She always does. From the dead, from the living. She will always come back.”

Pray to gods he wasn’t talking about my Snow. Pray to gods all he said was true if he was talking about my Snow.

He had not used any of his magic, but as if he had, the dark haired girl suddenly went lax in his grip and the ice halted from spreading. She looked around, her breathing growing to panting when she realised what she had done. “Why…why are we so high up?”

I didn’t give him a chance to reply because I fisted my brother’s shirt, almost shaking from fear. “Where is she?”

He shook his head, running a trembling hand through his eyes. “She will come.”

No. No. He’d promised me to never let her out of his sight, to keep her safe. I gripped him tighter. “Mal, where is my wife?”

The sky gurgled with flashing thunder. It was her. It had to be her.

One strike of lightning hit the distance and part of my soul began cracking. By the second one I was losing grip of reality and the world began swaying as it had only once done before.

“I can’t lose her again, please take me back,” the girl cried, clinging to my brother’s side. “Please.”

“I promised her,” was all he said.

Her jaw tightened and the air chilled with frost. “Promises mean nothing to her!”

The sky above us swirled into a vortex and lightning crashed on the terrace. A body swayed between the burning and frozen mist. Blessed be all heavens that decided she would return to me.

But she hadn’t returned to me, something else had. Something with a bright pair of electric wings spreading wide behind. When the white mist cleared, her glittering figure became clearer. Long dark hair floated around her and every inch of her body sparkled with bright white glowing veins—her eyes, too, no longer gold but a glowing white.

I reached a hand forward. “Snow?”

She tilted her head to the side, like a hunter studying prey. The skies behind her framed a horrifying thunder that cracked heavy over the mountain ranges around us.

I didn’t stop. Not until I was barely inches away from her. She didn’t hurt me. And though she was glittering with lightning, the air around her was colder than winter itself.

Slowly, I let night unravel from me, letting it slither in the air and all over the ground till it girded her. When her magic came in contact with my darkness, it doused and faltered—hissing like ice meeting fire. Like all other things did. But she had enough life in her to battle my death.

The essence of her magic smouldered, and her eyes unveiled from the unnatural glow to reveal my suns. Her body went slack and my shadows held her up till I gathered her exhausted form in my arms. Black lines were still spreading over her neck and face, the seal was opening or it had opened.

The journey from the terrace to Visha’s quarters was a blur. Words were muddled and touches were ghostly as I rushed to find the Crafter.

“Put her down,” Visha ordered the second I showed at her doors, pointing to the massive stone table in the middle of the room. She shut everyone out, bolting the doors closed despite the calls and screams from outside. She rolled Snow onto her stomach and tied her ankles and wrists to the table posts.

“What are you doing?” I asked, grabbing her hand away from Snow.

“She gets unpredictable when I close her seal. I suggest you leave as well. Now let me go.”

Oryn rested a hand on my arm and slowly pried my hand away from Visha. “It will be fine, my king. You may go.”

Backing a few steps I said, “No. No, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Snow will skin me for letting you see this,” Visha said, tearing through Snow’s shirt with a dagger. She gasped at the sight of the seal. “She’s never let it open so far.” Black tentacles of ink spread from the circle of the seal, crawling and pulsing as they expanded and thickened to cover every inch of her skin.

“She can do it,” Oryn said, folding his sleeves back and reaching to hold Snow’s head. Flutters of a bright magenta smoke wavered from his body till it enveloped him completely.

“Move back,” Visha ordered. The witch’s form began glowing red till the halo surrounding her flickered and shivered like a crimson fire, mimicking Oryn’s magic. The air sang from the dark magic—a hymn of the dead. My own senses shivered, feeling the spiritual crack open and form a tear in space between Numen and Caligo like a gate—an invisible portal.

“Tãha ãr I dãraiokt õn ãet tãhõs.” I call upon all gates of his magic, Visha recited followed by Oryn, and Snow’s body enveloped with phantom flames.

And as it did so, she let a soul tearing scream and her hands violently pulled on the chains. The more magic Visha drew from her, the more she struggled.