19. Amber

I stareout the small window beside me, watching the clouds from the view of Damien's private jet.

Yes, a private jet. He owns a jet.

Well, now that we're married, I suppose we own a jet.

But I can't really appreciate it, since the tension in the cabin between me, Damien, Morgan, and Blaze is basically suffocating. We're already hours into the flight to the Himalayas, and the closer we get to our destination, the more the atmosphere thickens with unspoken anxieties.

Blaze is hunched in the corner seat, his eyes scanning the ancient book sprawled open on his lap. He's so absorbed in reading it that he's forgotten the rest of us exist.

Morgan sits across the aisle from me, staring blankly at the back of the seat in front of her. The book on her lap has been abandoned for an hour or two, at least.

Damien, meanwhile, is directly across the table from me, dark and pensive.

We barely spoke this morning while getting ready to head out. Not even a mention of the wedding yesterday. As if we're pretending it didn't happen.

I suppose the fact that we're legally bound together for all eternity is a topic we'll sort through later. Assuming I have an eternity to live. We still don't know if I'm immortal or not.

But I'm not growing old and dying overnight, so I suppose that's also a discussion for later.

Damien has three items laid out on the table in front of him. The Astral Compass, and two matching daggers.

He keeps fiddling with the Astral Compass. As far as we're aware, there are no shadow souls in the mystical realm in the Himalayas, so we won't be able to use the compass to call them to us. Which we likely would have no reason to do, even if there were shadow souls there. But the compass can be used for navigation, so it'll likely come in handy at some point during the journey.

I have my Kindle in my lap, but it's impossible to focus on reading. My mind keeps wandering to other topics. Right now, it's on Astrophel's token. I contemplated bringing it with me, but decided against it. The chances that one of the others could find it is too high. So, it's still buried in that drawer, half a world away.

The fact that I'm now married to Damien, hiding the token, about to go on a crazy quest to find this Solar Scepter, and then use it to kill Astrophel… the thoughts and possibilities are swirling in my mind, and I can't keep up with them.

I preferred being in the gym at the Fairmont, training. It gave me something physical to do, which kept my mind off all the other crazy stuff in my life.

Picking up my Kindle again, I try to focus, but fail. Mainly because my eyes keep drifting to the wedding ring forged around my finger.

Literally forged. Out of curiosity, I tried pulling it off this morning.

It wouldn't budge.

And I can't hold up my Kindle without seeing it.

Blaze snaps the book shut—loudly—and I swivel my seat around to look at him.

"I found something," he says simply.

Damien's guard is up in an instant. "Found what?"

"I can do a spell on our weapons," he says. "Invictus. It means invincible. If it works, our weapons could beat any enemy."

"And if it doesn't work?" I ask, intrigued.

"Then our weapons will be the same as always." He shrugs. "Might as well give it a try."

"Absolutely not." Morgan's normally bright eyes are dark and hollow as she stares Blaze down.

Blaze glares straight back at her. "Mind telling me why?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea."

"That's ironic, coming from you," he says, his tone laced with venom.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she all but hisses back.

If it wouldn't potentially make the plane combust, I'd worry they were seconds away from using their fire magic on each other.

As it is, they're smarter than that.

At least, I hope they are.

"It means you were the one preaching about how amazing magic is, and how we should use it for the greater good, and how we should embrace the power we were born with," he says. "You went on and on about it in Switzerland. Now here you are, thinking it's a bad idea to try a simple spell?"

"Back off," I tell Blaze, feeling an unquenchable need to defend Morgan, given how shaken she looks. "Maybe she had a vision about it."

I turn to Morgan, waiting for specifics on why she doesn't want him trying this out. Because frankly, it doesn't sound like a terrible idea. If it goes right, it could be super helpful.

"No vision." She gathers herself together and refocuses on Blaze. "It's just that your magic is unknown. We should be careful with how we use it. Especially on something as important as our weapons."

"There is no we," he replies, his fiery eyes crackling like storm clouds. "This is my magic, and my family's quill, and I can use it however I want."

Wind whips through the cabin, making the champagne flutes clank and knocking a half-full glass of scotch off a side table.

The amber liquid spills across the cream carpet, the glass rolling to the side.

All eyes go to Damien.

"Do not, under any circumstances, use that quill on my daggers," he says, the air stilling as he reins in his magic.

Blaze's brows knit together in confusion—and a hint of anger. "Why not?" he asks. "The spell could give us a major edge."

"Because these daggers were forged with Viktor," he says, his fingers brushing over the ornate hilts. "They're not just weapons. They hold a history. A pact between brothers. I will not have them altered, especially not by magic as unknown as yours."

The sharpness in his tone makes it clear his words are final.

"Sure," Blaze says, backing off. "No problem."

"I'm glad we have that settled." Damien sits back in his seat, picks up the Astral Compass, and returns his focus to it.

I nearly reach for my own dagger, but stop myself before I can.

"What do you say, Amber?" Blaze leans forward, challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Are you up for having a weapon that can't be defeated?"

I say nothing for a few seconds.

Because wielding a weapon that could give me an upper hand is tempting. Especially since Blaze's spell to remove the potion worked miracles for me.

But seeing the firm lines of resistance on Damien's face, and the unsettled look in Morgan's eyes, makes me hesitate. Damien's been around for centuries, and Morgan can see the future. Which means it's likely a good idea to trust their instincts.

If the spell backfires… well, I don't want to do something I might regret.

"It's a good idea," I say to Blaze, hoping to stay diplomatic about the issue, like a true queen—which I definitely don't feel like I am. "But maybe we should hold off until we know a bit more."

He shakes his head in disappointment.

"You can hold off," he says. "I'm doing this."

Without leaving time for a debate, Blaze picks up the quill and slices the sharp end across his palm.

His blood wells up, deep red against his skin. Then, with a focused intensity, he dips the quill's tip into his blood and begins inscribing the word invictus onto the flat side of his blade.

Each stroke is deliberate, each letter infused with the power of his magic. I can feel it crackling in the air from here.

Damien, Morgan, and I sit there silently, our eyes on Blaze, watching him so carefully that it's like we're expecting him to get so consumed in the spell that he'll use his dagger against one of us. It's a crazy thought, since Blaze has done nothing to show he's not on our side. But it's impossible to deny there's something dark about what he's doing. Something that sets me on edge.

Judging by the way Morgan and Damien are on guard as well, it's obvious they feel the same.

When he finishes, Blaze holds up the dagger, the blade glowing with a faint, otherworldly light.

"See?" He turns the weapon in his hand, admiring the effect. "It worked."

"We don't know if it's invincible," Morgan says. "We just know you infused it with magic. What that magic does… well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"We know what it does," Blaze says as the glow dims out. "Invictus. It makes the dagger invincible."

"Just be careful, okay?" she tells him.

"Maybe test it out slowly," I add.

Damien scoffs, which is all he needs to do to let me know what he's thinking.

I'm the last one who should be giving lectures about the importance of not jumping into things.

"Sure," Blaze says. "No problem."

I'm getting the impression that when Blaze says "sure," what he really means is, "I don't agree, and I don't want to talk about it any further."

Luckily for him, we don't say much as we continue what might possibly be the most awkward plane flight ever taken halfway across the world.

Still, while the path ahead is uncertain, at least I'm not alone.

And somehow, that makes the challenges ahead feel a lot less daunting.