“Caleb!”
Chelsea screamed his name, watching in terror as he hit the ground so hard he carved a trench through the dirt, sending ancient swords spinning away through the air in a wild cloud of red petals.
But Chelsea couldn’t run to him immediately. The Beast was here, breaking free from their bonds, unleashing new attacks that she, Lorelei, Gwen, and Will struggled to evade and contain. Tendrils as sharp as swords lashed out, stretching hundreds of feet nearly instantly. It was all Chelsea could do just to keep pressure on the vicious Summon.
But when she chanced a glance Caleb’s way…
He wasn’t moving. He lay there half-buried in the earth, faintly glowing with a blue aura.
Chelsea danced around several thrusting tendrils, blasting back at them with explosive darts of flame. And then she chanced another look.
Caleb still wasn’t moving.
A spike of fear struck home in Chelsea’s heart. And she found herself torn.
She wasn’t the Chelsea who’d torched miles of Hollow Island’s jungle to the ground. Not anymore.
But the Chelsea she thought she’d become wasn’t responding, either. She didn’t have the serenity, the peace, to activate her Fire Blossom.
She was torn between the Chelsea she’d been, and the Chelsea she was becoming. And fear — fear for Caleb, the man who needed to live because they were going to live a long life together and he just couldn’t fall apart, not now, not here, not again —
Fear was a powerful weapon. A weapon that left Chelsea caught between two vastly different instinctual responses.
Get up!
She screamed at Caleb in her mind, because she had to focus, as much as she could manage right now, in this frantic fight against a monster that shook off every attack thrown its way. Gravity manipulation was the only thing keeping it pinned in place now, but it recognized that and launched a frenzied assault Will’s way. Will, the least mobile member of their team, with the weakest defensive abilities.
Lorelei was on it before Chelsea could say a word. Walls of ice rose up, but they weren’t sheer surfaces, no. They were an attack as much as they were a defense. Bristling with jagged, razor-sharp spines, the Beast roared as its tendrils split apart and impaled themselves on Lorelei’s wall.
They tore at the ice even so, and Lorelei had to keep repairing the defense. She looked like she was considering a Cold Snap — she raised her hand, middle finger pressed against her thumb to snap — but then thought better of it.
She usually can only use it once. And it can take a toll on her if she has to keep fighting after using it.
And this Beast — this disgusting monster — won’t be contained even by her trump card. At least, we can’t count on it.
Unable to reach Will, the Beast returned to attacking the three women. Gwen darted this way and that, her silver needle-sword flashing, hacking off sharp ends to tendrils. Her free hand cast out fine, nearly invisible silver thread, pinning down and trapping other tendrils, and working on binding the Beast’s body.
“It has a core, I’m sure of it,” Gwen said, her voice taut with concentration.
“Its sturdiness, swift regeneration, and constant shape-shifting make it difficult to pinpoint,” Lorelei said.
Chelsea heard their words. She understood their words.
But her mind wasn’t so much on this battle with the Beast. She was fighting it, certainly — if she’d stopped, she’d be dead by now, or someone else would have died defending her.
But…
Caleb!
He still wasn’t moving. And that faint aura that rose up from his skin like blue fire seemed eerie. Chelsea didn’t trust it.
It was the blue of the River of Time, a blue that matched the new streak in Caleb’s hair, the new glow in his eyes.
But…
It didn’t have the calm, serene beauty that Caleb’s new features had.
The blue that surrounded Caleb seemed angry, frantic, far too intense. What was it doing to him?
How dare it bring harm to him?
Chelsea was furious. But she couldn’t explode like on Hollow Island. And yet…
What about when I burned Valgwyn?
The Library of Solitude — everything that had happened there — was crystalline in her mind. She would never forget a single detail. And right now, the battle against Valgwyn seemed an apt comparison.
For a long time, Chelsea’s fire — and everyone else’s magical attacks, for that matter — had no effect on Valgwyn. He was untouchable. Nothing could harm him.
Until Chelsea had snapped. When Lorelei had fallen, frozen by her own ice, Chelsea had lost herself to a rage that transformed her, carried her to Valgwyn, and torched him with the hottest flames.
Flames that scarred him to this day.
Where is that power? Why can’t I call upon it at will?
She was furious with herself for not being able to command that power. She’d met her Elemental since then, and she knew more about how it all worked, about why things were the way they were.
But even so…
Give me that power again!
In the flames she blasted against the Beast, she saw glimpses of the now-familiar face of her Elemental. The faintest hints of sapphire in the emerald fire, of her mother’s fire in her own.
But she received no reply.
Why not? Why couldn’t she unleash herself fully against the Beast?
Why wasn’t she in control? It was her fire, wasn’t it? Even her Elemental had made it clear — while Marion’s fire, Chelsea’s mother’s Elemental, lived within her own, it no longer belonged to Marion Reiner.
Chelsea’s Elemental was hers, and hers alone.
So why?
Darting this way and that through the Beast’s constant, unyielding barrage, Chelsea continued her counter-attacks. Will kept the Beast pinned, and Gwen and Lorelei’s ice were starting to slow down the attacks, to contain the Beast more effectively. No doubt it would launch a new wave of some new attack if they managed to contain it completely once more.
The Beast was constantly changing. It was a power beyond theirs, a power they could merely contain, not slay.
Except Chelsea and Lorelei both had power. Tremendous power.
Lorelei hesitated to use hers. Her power came with an unpredictable cost, one that wouldn’t bring any permanent harm to herself, but would remove her from a fight that might not be concluded by the time her bill came due.
And Chelsea couldn’t use hers.
It was maddening. Not just the transformation Chelsea had wielded against Valgwyn, but her Fire Blossom, a power that she had invented, had carefully practiced and developed — that too refused to come to life.
Serenity. That was the key to the Fire Blossom. But Chelsea’s fear, her rage, her distraction, her panic, her worry, these things railed against her, tore away what serenity she could find.
The battlefield so often felt like home to her. She knew this deadly dance, even though the foe was one she’d never fought before. She’d been dancing like this since she was a child.
But it wasn’t just about her. Caleb was in terrible danger. He might even be —
Shut up. He’s not dead. He can’t die.
But not knowing was the worst part. Not knowing the full truth, and not being able to know. She couldn’t rush to Caleb’s side. Even Lorelei, their healer, the one who could help Caleb the most right now, couldn’t do a thing for him. Her powers were needed perhaps most of all to help cover the entire team and pin down their ferocious foe. She was powerful offense and defense at once, the core around which the rest of the team revolved.
And with Caleb down, his incredible mobility that allowed him to keep the Beast away from everyone else, let everyone else free to attack as they saw fit, was gone. Lorelei was even more vital now.
What do I —
“He’s gonna be okay!”
The cry came from Addie, the little girl who’d wormed her way into Chelsea’s heart. Chelsea shot a quick glance over, and saw the girl kneeling beside Caleb, one hand pressed against the side of his neck, the other against his forehead. “He’s breathing!” she said. “And he’s really warm!”
They were such simple words. And they didn’t mean much — anything could change, and any number of other things could be wrong with Caleb right now.
But…
They were enough.
Chelsea found herself, there in the chaos of the battle. She’d lost herself in fear and panic, in anger and frustration.
She’d been torn. Between who she was, and who she was becoming.
Past, future…
What about the present?
And Chelsea found herself, in the now, in the here, suddenly found herself anchored in who she was. She was no longer who she’d been. She wasn’t yet who she wanted to be, who she was on her way to becoming.
But there was a surety in the here and now. In the present. In knowing.
I’m right here.
Chelsea clicked each of her silver lighters. Once, twice, three times, four, five.
Each click formed a petal of emerald fire along each wrist. And after five clicks, the petals completed a circle around her wrists. Flames slowly spread, warm, comforting, strengthening, across her entire body.
Fire Blossom.
Chelsea was here. And she knew who she was.
And somehow, she knew. She just knew.
Caleb’s going to live.
She walked forward, wreathed in emerald flame. The Beast’s slicing tendrils recoiled before they could touch her.
Serenity.
She’d found it. It wouldn’t last — she knew she was still too volatile, too imperfect, to command this power at all times, whenever she wished.
But she had it right now, when it meant the most.
She walked towards the Beast, and fixed her eyes on it with a single promise.
Today is your last day.
——
Caleb wasn’t drowning.
He’d thought he was, at first. But the waters he sank through didn’t overwhelm him. They didn’t choke off his breath, they didn’t try to steal his life from him.
They were warm, though.
No, scratch that — blazing hot.
Stop!
He tried to scream, but his voice wouldn’t come out.
The water was like fire, it was burning him, and he couldn’t struggle, he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t do anything at all.
And then…
It didn’t hurt anymore. It wasn’t hot at all. It was cold, actually. Pleasantly so —
Oh. Oh, no. It got colder, and colder, so fast, too fast…
Stop!
But he still couldn’t scream. It was such vicious cold, colder than any winter he’d faced, colder than frozen Grimson Bay which he’d fallen into one winter, colder than —
But now, just like the burning, it was over.
Hot, to cold, and now…
Just right.
Caleb floated in the deep, dark ocean. And then he bumped against something solid. He turned, and found himself on a wide stone platform, smooth and white. On the opposite end of the platform…
A man.
It was a strange sort of man. He was mechanical, or so it seemed. A clockwork man, all gears and cogs sticking out, and yet his face was so intensely detailed, so smooth, so full-featured. That couldn’t be clockwork, and yet…
Oh, no. It was. Caleb didn’t have to go in closer for a look — he could see everything so clearly. The ocean wasn’t so dark anymore — lights shone all around, beautiful and bright.
The man’s entire body, even that intensely detailed face, was clockwork. Just the finest of clockwork, minuscule and intricate, formed by the most masterful craftsman, a craftsman without peer, without compare, beyond anything the world had ever seen or even dreamed of.
The man didn’t speak. But Caleb thought he could sense some kind of communication, an unspoken language that called out to him. Not words, per se, but… somehow… he understood.
“The sword,” he said, staring at the clockwork man. “You’re… you’re the sword.”
The clockwork man tilted his head to the side, studying Caleb with gleaming eyes.
“A… gift?” Caleb ducked his head, chuckling sheepishly. “Kind of a painful gift, don’t ya think?”
And then he was suddenly alert. As if he’d been dreaming, the world outside of this place had faded in his mind, but it suddenly came back in stark clarity. “I need your help!” he said, taking one step towards the clockwork man. “Please, my friends, they’re —”
He paused, then. The clockwork man didn’t make a sound, barely even moved, and yet he was speaking to Caleb in his own way.
“They’re… okay?” Caleb shook his head. “I don’t… well, if you say so, then I guess… but how do I get back to them?”
And he immediately stepped back. He got it loud and clear.
So he let the clockwork man finish.
And he began to understand. Not that he fully understood, but, well… he was getting awfully used to not fully understanding things.
But he understood enough. And he smiled. Pressing a hand against his chest, he nodded.
“A sword for my heart,” he said softly. His smile widened to a grin. “Thank you.”
The clockwork man inclined his head, ever so slightly. Almost a nod.
The clockwork man, and the platform, vanished. All was darkness, and water.
Caleb was rising through it. Slowly.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—
He emerged, instantly full of intense, crystal-clear focus. He saw everything in stark clarity, felt every sensation with full depth and breadth of feeling.
He was half buried in dirt and flower petals. He’d been thrown so hard, crashed so hard, and yet he was unhurt.
Sure hurt at the time, though —
“Caleb!” Addie suddenly cried out. She was kneeling beside him, and immediately tackled him in a hug. “You took so long! I thought you were gonna sleep forever!”
“I’m back, and I’m okay,” Caleb said, hugging Addie tight. Her embrace was the perfect thing to wake up to, a loving touch that put a song in his heart.
He looked up, past Addie, and was astonished at what he saw.
Chelsea. Wreathed in flames. The Fire Blossom.
The Beast was slain. And Nyx’s staff, her Talisman, the lifeline to her magic and all that made her so powerful…
Was ash at the girl’s feet.
Nyx was backed up against the white boulder in the center of Morispé Vale, one of Mister Midnight’s daggers at her throat. Her hands were held up in a clear gesture of surrender, and yet she still had a confident smile on her face.
“Guess I… missed a lot,” Caleb said.
Chelsea suddenly turned. The fires pulled away from her and vanished, and her eyes locked with his.
And then she was running.
Caleb pulled himself out of the dirt and ran to meet her.
They met in the middle, clinging tightly to one another, faces buried in each other’s hair, laughter escaping their lips.
And, for the moment, nothing else mattered.