32. Morgan

The tensionbetween me and Blaze is impossible to ignore as we follow the compass through the mountains.

I can tell he didn’t believe my earlier story about going to the bathroom in the woods. Luckily, he isn’t pushing it, but I have a sinking feeling it’ll come up again sooner or later.

As we press forward, the rocky path softens, until it feels like we’re walking on clouds. Trees, ancient and towering, form a canopy above us. Their leaves whisper secrets in a language only they understand, and the birds call out to each other from their branches overhead.

A rabbit scampers across the path, with fur as white as snow and eyes glowing a soft luminescent blue. It pauses, sniffing the air, then bounds off, leaving a trail of shimmering footprints in its wake that disappear seconds later.

“That wasn’t a normal rabbit,” I say to Blaze, simply to break the uncomfortable silence between us.

“Nope,” he agrees. “Never seen anything like it.”

He’s not giving me much to work with here.

“Magic here feels different,” I continue, trying to find something to talk about. “It’s more alive. Like it breathes along with the forest.”

Before he has a chance to respond, the ground rumbles, and the peaceful ambiance of the forest is shattered by a deep growl that sounds as ominous as ever.

We freeze and turn toward the sound.

Out of the shadowy underbrush, a creature emerges.

It’s massive, with fur as black as night and glowing red eyes. Its claws dig into the earth, and its teeth gleam sharply in the dim light.

My heart races as I stare it down, but I don’t move, worried one wrong step will provoke it into barreling toward us.

“Bear,” Blaze whispers, his voice tight with tension.

“Yes,” I mutter. “I see that.”

I brace myself for an attack.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, we stand there, locked in a standoff, none of us daring to make the first move.

There has to be something we can do here. My mind races through every bit of lore and magic I know, searching for a solution that doesn’t end with us being mauled to death. To avoid poking the bear, so to say.

Then, an idea sparks.

“Blaze, the rabbit,” I say, not taking my eyes off the bear. “Use the levitating spell to move a stone in the direction of the rabbit.”

It’s a risky plan, but it’s better than starting an unnecessary fight. After all, we don’t know what sort of crazy powers this bear might have. And, ideally, we won’t have to find out.

Understanding flashes in Blaze’s eyes, and he inches to pick up a stone next to his feet.

With a flick of his penknife, he draws a few drops of his blood. Then, carefully, he writes on the stone, inscribing the word levitas on its surface.

The stone glows briefly, the air around it shimmering with magic. I watch in awe as it lifts off the ground, but also remain aware of the bear the entire time, prepared for anything.

The bear’s eyes follow the stone, mesmerized by the display of magic.

I stay firmly in place. If I so much step on a crunchy leaf, the spell might be broken, and the bear might decide it prefers witch for dinner instead of rabbit.

Finally, with a flick of his wrist, Blaze lets the stone fall to the ground near the bushes where the rabbit disappeared.

The bear pads over to it, sniffing where it landed.

Blaze grabs my hand. “Now,” he says. “Let’s move.”

His touch ignites fire in my veins, and we back away, not wanting to recapture the bear’s attention. My heart races, but when I glance back, the bear isn’t anywhere in sight.

Once we’re a safe distance away, we turn and hurry down the path, putting as much distance between us and the bear as possible. It’s like there’s wind beneath our heels—maybe the forest’s magic—and suddenly, the trees give way to a clearing.

We come to a sudden stop, gazing out at the valley stretching out before us. It’s unlike any valley I’ve seen before, with the mountains on each side going up so high that it’s like they’re touching the sky. The air shimmers with strands of magic, and trees spread out across the ground, their bright green leaves glimmering gold in the sunlight.

But there, all the way at the end of the valley, is a sight that steals my breath away.

A palace of sparkling quartz, built into the side of the mountain. Its towers gleam under the sun, casting rainbows in every direction, pulsing with powerful, ancient magic.

“The rose garden should be just beyond the palace,” I say to Blaze, unable to look away from the quartz sparkling under the sunlight.

“Great,” he says. “So, we cross the valley, go through the garden, and she’ll be there?”

She.

The Witch Langwerda, who guards the Crimson Quill.

“If the book is right, then yes,” I say. “She’ll be there. Probably in her cottage. Doing… whatever ancient mythological witches do when they’re hanging out in their magical cottages.”

I barely hear his response.

Because the wind starts up again.

It’s a different kind of wind. Not just a movement of air, but something with essence. Something alive. It caresses my skin, the breeze whispering things I can’t fully hear, pleading for me to listen.

“Do you hear that?” I turn to Blaze, scanning his face for any sign that he knows what I’m talking about.

“Hear what?”

“The wind. It’s…”

Before I can finish, the whispers become clearer.

Don’t trust him.

He’s going to hurt you.

Burn him and leave him behind.

He’s going to hate you when he learns your secret.

Blaze reaches for me, as if he’s trying to comfort me to urge me to continue, but I step away.

The hurt that flashes across his eyes is like a slap to my face.

The voices in the wind quiet, as if they were never there at all.

The voices that were telling me to hurt him. Just like how his mom heard voices telling her to hurt Blaze and his father after they used the healing spell to try turning her into a witch.

Oh my God.

It’s happening to me, too.

The spell healed my body. But my mind…

The realization freezes me to my core.

I can’t tell him. I just can’t.

If he knows, he’ll think it’s his fault. He’ll never forgive himself.

Plus, maybe I’m not hearing the voices because of the spell. Maybe it has to do with the Valley of the Vanished. Maybe something similar is happening to him, but he’s not telling me because he doesn’t want to scare me, too.

Maybe.

But I don’t think so.

“The wind’s what?” he asks, and I can see in his expression that if I tell him the truth, it’ll break him.

So, I reach for him, taking his hand in mine.

“It’s nothing,” I manage, although I don’t know why I expect him to believe me, given how unconvincing I sound. “It’s probably just an animal, or the valley playing tricks. After all, we’re in the Valley of the Vanished. Weird stuff happens here.”

Blaze studies me, his expression a mix of skepticism and concern.

Finally, he nods, letting it go.

“We should keep moving,” he says, and there’s a weight to his words that tells me this conversation isn’t over.

“Into the valley?” I ask, releasing his hand.

“Yes. Into the valley.”

And so, we continue onward.

We don’t get far before the sun is replaced by a darkening sky that covers its light completely. The air grows colder, a chill that seeps into my bones, and the clouds swirl, converging into a storm that appears out of nowhere.

Thunder rumbles overhead.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I say, and then lightning forks across the sky, illuminating the valley in brief, stark flashes.

A bolt of it strikes the ground in the center, frying the grass beneath it. Another one does the same, slightly closer to us this time.

“Run!” Blaze says, and he grabs my hand, pulling me back to where we came.

We don’t get far before smacking into an invisible wall.

No.

I push against it, pounding it, but it’s no use.

We’re stuck.

There’s nowhere else for us to go but through the storm.