Bronagh stared across the wasteland at the remnants of the newest village to succumb to the fire plains. Where wooden houses once stood, only ashy ground remained. Stone pillars and fences bore the mark of fire, black scorching up their once smooth surfaces. In the center of the village was a well, now nothing more than a circle of stones, the ground beneath them sucked dry.
And it was so close. Too close.
The children and feeble of Grima were safely tucked into the mountain fortress, the network of caves that had hidden Grimians for generations.
As the fire plains expanded up into the mountains, though, even that wasn’t safe.
The line between Grima and Vondur was blurred, the borders overtaken by bubbling geysers erupting from the ground, hot steam pouring into the atmosphere.
Now, there was no division, no two kingdoms against each other. Only one.
“We don’t have long.” Eavha stepped up beside Bronagh, Sheba shadowing her as always. The huge cat intimidated Bronagh, but there was also a strange comfort in the protection she provided, though not even her long teeth and razor claws could fight their enemy now.
“Are you afraid, Eavha?” For their fae, for their kingdom, and the future they wouldn’t have.
Eavha lifted her chin. “You cannot have courage without first experiencing fear.”
“And it’s going to take every ounce of our courage to overcome this now.”
Donal joined them, his arms crossed over his chest. He was too young for this, they both were, but circumstances forced them into roles they had to embrace. “When the Iskaltian prince returns, can’t he just usher our fae to safety through that … portal he opened?”
Bronagh shook her head. “We will succumb to the fire plains before they do, but they are not immune. Each of their vatlands is expanding, covering more ground and encroaching on their villages.”
“Vatlands.” Her uncle crossed his arms where he stood a few paces away. “Magic without totems. Are we sure we wish to put our faith in such notions?”
“Keir is there. He is of Lenya.”
“He is of Vondur.” A scowl flashed across her uncle’s face. Old ideas were hard to overcome.
Eavha turned to face him, her cheeks flushing red. “And what is wrong with Vondur, Grimian?”
Uncle Cormac started to respond, but Bronagh cut him off. “Not now. There is no time for this.” She turned and walked back to where their party gathered. Sweat dripped down the small of her back, and it would only get worse.
The air hung heavy with the scent of sulfur and the intense heat. “Declan, bring the crystals.” She’d tasked the general with protecting them on the journey. Eavha trusted him, and that was enough for her.
Declan lugged the trunk forward and set it on the ground. He popped the latch, and when he opened it, a collective gasp wound through the group.
Here, on the edges of the fire plains, the best warriors of all of Vondur and Grima stood together, red and gold, friend and foe. These were the fae trained to use totems to their greatest potential. One day, she hoped the magic could be accessible to all Lenyans.
Imogen crouched next to the trunk and pulled out a crystal, lobbing it toward the nearest soldier. He plucked it out of the air, and she threw another one, never missing.
“What you hold are the fire opals of the kingdoms on the far side of the fire plains. They may be our only hope of holding them back. We must work in shifts to have totem wielders awake at all times. This will not be easy, and it may not be short. Our fae are counting on our ability to stop the spread.” She had no delusions that they’d be able to push the fire plains back, but they may just be able to slow its progression until Keir learned of another solution.
“Is everyone ready?” When a few soldiers murmured in assent, she nodded to Declan. “Your men are up first.”
“Yes, your Majesty.” Declan was good at taking orders, at playing the role of king’s general. In her case, at the moment, he was the queen’s general. She hoped Keir wouldn’t mind if she stole him.
Declan approached the place where the air seemed to shimmer and move. Sweat broke out across his face. Bronagh joined him, clenching her jaw against the intense heat.
As Declan’s men lined up, they lifted their totems.
“Now,” Bronagh yelled.
Light exploded from the opal, and Bronagh’s feet lifted as the force of the power threw her backward. She hit the ground and stared up into dark skies. Despite the early hour, rain clouds blocked the sun from view. She couldn’t help thinking how fitting it was as she tried to breathe.
“Bron.” Eavha bent over her. “Are you alive?”
A laugh burst out of Bronagh, and she stopped when pain lanced through her. “Yes.” She rolled onto her side and pushed herself up. “I’m fine.” Around her, most of Declan’s men picked themselves up off the ground.
Declan surveyed them with a dazed look. He was the only fae still standing.
“That was …” Bronagh shook her head. She’d never felt such power. It called to her, wanting her to let its full force free. These fire opals were not the weak crystals the fae of Lenya were used to.
She stared at the opal lying in the grass beside her.
“It’s moving,” Declan yelled. “Everyone get back.” He jumped just in time to see the ground where he’d been standing die, green grass going black before crumbling into dust.
The Lenyans scrambled away from the heat, urging their horses closer to the forest at their backs.
No, this wasn’t happening. Bronagh stilled and focused on the crystal in her hand. “Eavha,” she called. Eavha, Declan, and Donal ran toward her. “We have to slow it down.”
Her uncle joined them, an opal clutched in his palm. “Let the magic inside you, let it filter through you. Gain control through your will.”
Bronagh closed her eyes, slowing her heartbeat and sending all her energy into the stone. Magic curled around her fingertips, arcing up over her arm and engulfing her in a wave of power unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Was this how Tierney felt every day of her life?
It was exhilarating to be this strong.
She gripped the opal tighter in her fist, imagining she held the magic in the palm of her hand. This time, when she let it free, it had a leash around its neck.
A blast of golden power hit the hazy edges of the heat. A geyser of steam extinguished as the others joined her.
“I think it’s slowing down,” Declan yelled above the roaring in Bronagh’s ears.
Energy leached out of Bronagh until it was all she could do to hold herself up. They’d done it. They’d slowed the spread. At least for the moment.
The crystals worked, but they weren’t enough.
If they were going to reclaim Lenya’s scorched plains, it was going to take a lot more power than they possessed.