The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Thirty-One

As it turned out, our 'vacation' didn't last all that long. Lark came to us at lunchtime with Erenia in tow.

Bran and I were sitting at a table with all of Sharla's friends—minus Erenia, obviously—talking, and laughing, and trying to pretend that everything was normal, when Lark and Erenia walked up. Lark held a pen in her hand. As we watched, she began to write in the air with it. Slowly and carefully, the word "hello" appeared.

"You figured it out!" Bran exclaimed, his words full of excitement.

"How did you do it?" I asked, trying to mimic his tone.

"Erenia did it," wrote Lark. She turned to smile at the girl, gently pushing her forward to answer our questions.

Erenia shrugged. "I don't exactly know. When Nevaeh couldn't figure out how to help Lark, she brought her to me, and the three of us brainstormed until we thought of something like this. Then I made the pen. Somewhere along the way, my magic flowed into it and gave it power. That's how my Blessing usually works."

Lark beamed and wrote, "Thank you."

"It's nothing special, really." Erenia smiled back. "I was happy to help."

"So," said Bran. "Are we ready to begin planning soon?"

"Tomorrow," Lark wrote. "Vacation today."

Bran turned to me. "Does that sound all right?"

I smiled, though the prospect of having to find a way to defeat the Magician did not appeal to me at all. "Sounds great."

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a grey blur. We hung out with Sharla's friend group, doing our best to relax, even while the threat of tomorrow's business hung like a sword above our heads. Again and again, my thoughts randomly moved to how close tomorrow was coming. Again and again, a flame of adrenaline was struck in my belly. I was terrified. I was not ready in any way.

It was nearly impossible to go to sleep that night. I wanted the night to last forever. I was also tired, though, and eventually my eyelids drooped slowly closed as I succumbed to sleep.

Darkness surrounded me. Far away from me, barely visible, the orange flame of a torch flickered—the only light. I began to walk toward it.

Below my feet, the slick black stone from the Magician's cave glittered malevolently up at me. I began to slip and slide, barely making any progress toward that comforting fire ahead.

Footsteps sounded beside me, echoing through the cavern.

"So," said a voice, "how are you planning on reaching that light?"

I was too frightened to answer. Somehow, impossibly, I knew the Magician was the one standing next to me.

"It's rude to ignore me," he said. "This is my cave, after all."

I shivered as a cold gust of wind brushed past my cheek. "I'm going to walk until I get there."

Though I couldn't see the Magician's smile, I knew it was there.

He chuckled. "And how are you going to reach it if it's gone?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. "It's right there. I can see it."

"Not for long."

He appeared beside the flame, which was, impossibly, much closer now, even though I knew I'd barely made any progress at all. Strange shadows were cast on his face by the flickering of the flame. His smile reminded me of a human skull.