“She’s not Elia,” Zia muttered then looked me straight in the eyes. “You better hope you’re as powerful as her.” She reached out, placing both of her hands on my exposed forearms, and then fire coursed through me as if I were being burned alive…
That’s what it felt like—a magical surge, powerful and hot, poured over me. The heat sank into my skin, my muscles, then into my bones. It pounded against every fiber, every tissue, every cell. It was pain, unlike anything I’d ever felt before. The energy built and built—white-hot—until it peeled away everything except … power. So. Much. Power.
Holy Mother Mage … what was this?
My activated power? Had this been with me all along?
I whimpered as my nerves fried.
Raiden grinned. “She’s taking a lot,” he said.
Aine nodded. “A lot more than Elia did.”
I gasped, but each breath only seemed to stoke the flame of energy.
“Geoff had passed out at this point,” Than commented.
“So had you,” Zia muttered.
What were they talking abo—?
Blackness danced at the edges of my vision as raw energy pulsed through my body, seeping out from my skin. The power crawled up my spine and exploded from my head.
“Ahhh!” I screamed as a flash of white stole my vision.
Darkness swallowed me, and then I felt a hook at my belly button before I was submerged in water.
I sat up, coughing and sputtering in the hot spring water back on High Mage Island. Steam hung in the air. Grandfather Geoff stood on the ledge of my pool, hovering over me. His robe clung to his thin frail frame, and he leaned on his cane, grinning at me.
“Ha!” he exclaimed, grinning. “You did it!”
I glared at him while still coughing. “What. The. Mage. Was that?” I growled.
I felt like I’d died for a second there.
His eyes ran over my arms and legs, “Oh, you got a lot. I can see the power.” He looked like a kid in a candy store.
“They were crazy, and you didn’t properly prepare me for that,” I retorted.
He shrugged. “Sorry. No time. Hurry and change. We need to get to the records hall before midnight.”
I groaned.
Rage was so going to kill me.
“What do I do with these?” I pulled the bag of soul stones out of my pocket. Gramps indicated the changing area with a flick of his head. “Keep the bag by your suit should you need them. The stones should be safe in this realm.” He grimaced. “For now.”
For now?
Great.
Chapter Two
Reyna, my grandfather, and I stood in a courtyard outside a giant building titled “Records Hall.” Three steps led up to a large stone patio just outside a set of sliding glass doors. The front of the building was all windows while a soft glow just inside the entrance held the darkness within at bay. Despite the light inside the building, I couldn’t see anyone, which hopefully meant we were alone. Several stone benches were scattered throughout the courtyard, which was surrounded by a waist-high hedge. We crouched behind the boxwood despite the pitch darkness of night.
“Why are we hiding again?” I whispered.
My gaze jumped from Gramps, who had his eyes closed and was breathing in and out so slowly I thought he might have fallen asleep, to Reyna, who ignored me.
“Kian is inside,” Grandfather said.
I stiffened. How did Gramps know that from all the way out here? I didn’t want to know.
But it was a cool Jedi power I hoped to learn eventually.
Reyna tightened her grip on her sword and snarled. “That old bag of bones is going to try to stop Nai from signing her name as your heir.”
Grandfather grinned. “That ‘old bag of bones’ is at least five hundred years younger than me. But you’re correct; he’ll try to stop her.” He tapped his chin then shook his head. “He must’ve gotten wind of Nai’s presence here.”
Reyna rubbed her hands together. “What’s the plan? Want me to light his house on fire or something?”
Gramps tsked at her suggestion, but I actually thought it was a decent idea.
Shaking his head, my grandfather maneuvered out of the bushes with his cane, surprisingly silent considering his rapid deterioration of agility. “No, no, that won’t do. It would only come back to bite us. But, we do need a distraction.” He looked at me. “When Kian runs outside, you slip in, find the Master Scroll, and write your name under your mother’s. Understood?”
I gulped and then nodded because what choice did we have? “Understood.”
Write my name in a book. How hard could that be?
Reyna bounced on her heels, grinning like a loon. “What’s the distraction? Want me to kill someone?”
Gramps rolled his eyes. “I’m going to fake a heart attack. I hope your acting skills are as strong as your thirst for blood. Come on.”
He toddled toward the building until he stood in full view of the glass double doors.
“Ahhhrgggh,” he yelled and clutched his chest.
“Showtime.” Reyna winked at me and jumped out from behind the hedge to join him.
“Help!” She dropped to her knees and clutched her chest, wheezing dramatically.
I frowned, confused for a second why she was also pretending to have a heart attack; then it dawned on me. Reyna was his shield. If he had an illness, she took it on…
Did that mean she would die in a few months too?
The thought horrified me, but before I could dwell on it, the glass doors slid open, and Kian and his son Julian, who I’d spotted on Alpha Island, raced out of the building and skidded to a stop.
“What’s happening?” Kian looked down at Reyna and Gramps with alarm.
Reyna’s neck veins bulged. “Can’t. Breathe.”
Gramps lay on the stone patio, shaking so much he appeared to be having a seizure. I wasn’t sure that was a heart attack symptom, but both Kian and his douche-canoe son were transfixed. Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped through the doors, squinting while I waited for my eyes to adjust to the bright lights. The scent of oil and leather hit my nose, and a single breath later, I raised my chin, and my jaw dropped.
Holy Mother Mage.
The records hall was … huge.
Bookshelves spanned from floor to ceiling, and all of them were filled with coffee-brown leather tomes, each one about a quarter of an inch thick. A reception desk sat to my left, thankfully unoccupied, and I darted into the first row to scan the spines.
10000 BC.
9999 BC.
9876 BC.
Omg! They were dates—older than Gramps! I guess that made sense since he’d lived a thousand years, and I’d met five of his predecessors. That alone was six thousand years … assuming they all lived out their full lives and weren’t killed.
Every moment here gave me a dozen new questions.
Focus! I snapped to myself.
I stepped to the next shelf and discovered it started with 8000 BC, so at least I knew which direction to go. I raced past the shelves until I got to this century. Each year had a new book. Gramps said to put my name under my mom’s, but my mom wouldn’t have written her name in this year’s book … because she’d died…