Birdie’s hand hovered over the spattering of small bones. She concentrated as her hand began to tremble. Then her arm. Then her entire body.
One moment, Birdie was hunched over the table. The next, her back bowed at an unnatural angle. Her arms spread wide. Her face tilted upward. Her mouth was moving as if speaking to somebody.
Orden pushed his chair back. “What’s wrong with her?”
Cyrene jumped up, too. “I have no idea. How do we stop it?”
“You see, but don’t see,” Birdie gasped out.
“What?” Cyrene asked in confusion.
“You see, but you don’t see. I’m…blind, and yet I see. You can see, yet you are blind.”
Blood began to run down her nose.
Cyrene shot Orden a look. “What is she talking about? How do we stop her?”
“Birdie!” Orden barked. “Let go! We don’t need to know.”
“You need to know,” Birdie forced out. Blood was running freely from her nose now. “She’s strong.”
“Creator! Malysa!” Cyrene gasped.
Cyrene ignited her magic and tried to push back against Malysa attacking the mystic. Something so small. Something she had never anticipated, and here was her influence all over again.
“She’s so strong. She doesn’t want me to tell you.”
Blood came from her ears now. Cyrene pushed into Birdie. She knew it was reckless to take Malysa on this way. But there was no other way. She was burning Birdie up from the inside out. Cyrene dove into Birdie’s conscious and felt Malysa’s presence on her like an oily fingerprint.
“Let her go!” Cyrene barked at the darkness that was choking her.
“Domina,” Birdie gasped. “You’ve done…what you need to do. You’ve done it…done it before.”
Cyrene concentrated on dispelling Malysa. It was a fight of wills. Her five elements versus her pure, raw energy and darkness. Cyrene fought bit by bit, pushing Malysa out of Birdie’s body.
Blood ran from Birdie’s eyes. Malysa was winning.
“No, no, no,” she gasped.
She had to fight harder. She had to win. Malysa could not have this victory. Not this innocent.
She could practically hear Malysa cackling.
“Use what you have. Use your past. Guide your…future.”
“Please, no,” Cyrene said, burning through her reserves to keep Malysa at bay.
Then suddenly, Birdie collapsed forward. Her body was still. Blood coated her face and arms and chest. It was soaking through the bones and across the table.
“No!” Cyrene gasped.
Orden was already there, rolling Birdie over and gently placing her on the floor. “Stay with us, Birdie,” Orden commanded.
But Cyrene could sense it before he felt for a pulse. Whatever little magic had been in her veins that connected her to the spiritual plane and allowed her to see auras…it was gone. Snuffed out.
Cyrene sank to her knees, and tears wet her lashes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Malysa could get to her. I didn’t know.”
Orden pressed on her chest and tried to breathe life back into her. He kept working, determined to fix what had been so whole only moments earlier.
Cyrene finally had to put her hand out. “Stop, Orden.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Stop. She’s gone.”
And, for the first time, she saw tears glimmering in his eyes.
“She made it this far,” he said as the tears rolled tracks down his cheeks. “She made it.”
“I know,” Cyrene said. “I know.”
She rocked him back and forth, and they both cried into the night.
40
The Seeing
The storm didn’t abate for three straight days. And on the fourth day, they performed the Biencan rites of burning. Once the full burning was completed, they put the ashes in an urn and left Birdie’s house with it in tow.
Cyrene had used the bond with Sarielle to let them know that they were stuck in Bienco and that they were returning. Neither she nor Orden spoke the entire way back to the portal. Cyrene didn’t ask whose house the portal was now in. Or what he’d gone through in Bienco while she was gone. It hadn’t gone well. They were leaving without allies and with ashes in a bag. That was answer enough.
Their mood was somber. Cyrene’s dreams had been worse.
She didn’t know how Malysa had gotten to Birdie like that. She had been using such trace amounts of magic. It didn’t even make sense.
It just meant that whatever Birdie had been trying to tell them was important. Not that Cyrene could make heads or tails of it through her grief. Through Orden’s grief.
She could see the way he held the urn. The look in his eyes that said he would have to break the news to Gwynora and after Gwyn already lost her father. It was going to be horrible.
They stepped through the portal and into the Black Mountain, closing off the disaster of Bienco.
Dean rushed into the cavernous room. His face fell when he saw them. “What happened?”
Cyrene swallowed. “We lost Birdie. Malysa got to her.”
“Creator,” he breathed. “Was Malysa there? Did you two have to fight her?”
“No,” she whispered. “She got in through her spirit magic. It was just a small amount, but apparently, it was enough.”
Orden strode past Dean without a word.
“He’s taking it hard,” she whispered. “Truth be told, we both are. It happened right before our eyes.”
Dean wrapped his arms around her. “I hate this for you.”
She let herself soak in his warmth and comfort for a few minutes. Then she took a deep breath and stepped back. “I can’t afford to be broken by one death. I will have many more before this is all over. We’re walking into war.”
“Yes, but you were not walking into war when this death occurred, Cyrene. It’s okay to mourn her.”
“I mourned for three days. Now, I have to use her dying words to figure out how to fix Ahlvie. Because that’s what she was trying to tell us.” She glanced up at him. “I’m guessing you had no luck.”
“No. Everything I tried had no bearing on him. But he hasn’t shifted. So, I call that a win.”
Cyrene shook her head. “That’s buying us time. We need a solution.”
She walked out of the portaling chamber and back into the main area of the mountain. Ahlvie was lying on a cot with his arm propped under his head. Sarielle and Halcyon were just stretching as they came awake. Orden was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey,” Ahlvie said, jumping to his feet. “I heard what happened in Bienco. Orden is pretty messed up.”
“Yeah. It was…awful. She told me before she died that I needed to use something from my past to help fix you. That I had done it before and that I could see, but I was blinded.”
Ahlvie arched an eyebrow. “Is there ever a time when people are not cryptic about important matters?”
“I really don’t think so,” Cyrene said with a sigh.
“When in your past did you separate a human and an Indres?”
Cyrene shrugged. “Never.”
“Yeah. So, what are you blind to? Maybe she meant it literally?”