Chapter 12

F rom Hiroshima Station, we take the ferry to Miyajima, which means "shrine island" in Japanese. The famous shrine is what we're here for, but given the time of day I can't do my work yet.

Instead, we take the cable car up the mountain.

Nariel and I sit opposite each other. I'm aware he's just watching me quietly, but I'm busy taking in the view out the window as we start rising up the ropeway. Still, I can practically feel the weight of his regard, and I can't help wondering what he's thinking.

Before I decide whether to ask, when we're far enough away from the base that a ropeway attendant can't easily see us, he switches to my side of the car.

"We're supposed to sit opposite for balance," I remind him.

Nariel leans back. "It's too bad no one here has magic that can lift the weight of the cable car to be even."

I frown at him. "Is that a minor task for you? With that much weight load, it'd take more magic from me."

He shrugs. "I'm an angel, and the wind is calm. This isn't so heavy I'll strain myself for this short a trip."

I narrow my eyes. "That's not an answer."

He rolls his eyes. "It is not so meaningful an impact that you should worry about it."

That's more like an answer, anyway. I wonder why he's suddenly being evasive with me—does he not want me to know how angel magic works?

I let it go and focus back on my work. From up here, I have a clear view of Itsukushima Shrine, which is the first reason I'm doing this: reminding myself what the lay of the land looks like. I cast a quick spell for far-seeing as we continue to rise so I can get a sense of how much space I'll have to work with, the shape I can lay out my spells given the shrine gate in the water, and where I'll need to allow for entrances. Probably Evram will come straight on, since he's not familiar with the area, but I can't be sure of that.

This also gives me a chance to confirm that there are no spells laid yet, which means that Ayaka hasn't yet told Evram where I'll be. Good.

Eventually we pass out of sight of the shrine, and only then does Nariel ask, "Why are we here? There are plenty of power spots closer to Kyoto. Or Tokyo, for that matter."

"Japan is a civilized country with high-speed rail, so Japanese wizards can still get here easily if they need direct access to the anchor," I justify. And then admit, "But mainly for a power spot that isn't in the mountains."

Nariel looks at me, then gestures broadly around at all the trees in our view.

I smile faintly. "We're not staying here."

"The mountain here is more powerful than the shrine below. There will be fewer people to disguise ourselves from, too."

"It is more powerful, but it's also distributed. But that's part of why I'm up here—I'm going to gather that power and link it down below for an extra boost. I'm also learning from Costa Rica. Not only will there not be places for mages to hide behind down below, I won't have to fight them on cliffs. Warrior monks may have been trained for mountain warfare, but I'm not."

"What, the grand magus never sent you into the woods to do battle for him?"

I shake my head. "No, he's too cosmopolitan, and he kept me too close for anything that far out. My experience with unpredictable terrain is all from Low Earth, and I haven't dueled here before this week. So I'd really prefer better ground and fewer narrow switchbacks, because we know there's going to be a fight."

"So you'd rather fight on water?"

The reason Itsukushima Shrine is so famous is because at high tide—like now—the shrine gates and surrounding temple complex appear to float above the water.

This time my smile is wider. "Exactly so. Evram is, after all, a cosmopolitan mage."

N ariel cloaks me while I do my work on the mountain, and then we head back down for low tide so he can cloak me again while I set up the anchor spell as tourists walk around.

Rather than doming off whole areas, he's cloaking me specifically while he walks around right at my side, pretending to be exploring on his own, so people don't walk into me. I snicker more than once at his acting, or his abrupt dramatic movements to take up more space when someone gets too close.

He also cloaks the land below the water, so Evram won't be able to see the shapes of my spells through the waves. I burn them deep into the earth, below the shifting sand.

We retreat when the tide starts coming in, checking into another room at a fancy ryokan, partially because that's all that's available, and partially because if it's my last night I might as well stay somewhere beautiful. Though I spend most of the time napping to recover from all my spellwork that afternoon.

I wake up to the sound of a notification on my phone but don't move right away.

Nariel is lying next to me. I don't know why. He hasn't said anything more about my decision since the train. We're not touching, but I can feel the warmth of him.

I just want to stay. More than almost anything.

Anything except magic.

I breathe deeply into my chest gone suddenly tight, squint my eyes against tears I don't have more time for, and sit up to check my phone.

It's a text from Ayaka that's just the man mage emoji.

I send back a magic wand and look over at Nariel. He meets my gaze, and I nod once.

Go time.

W e join the last late-night visitors at the shrine shortly before 11:00 p.m. The illuminated gate glows a fierce orange against the dark sky, reflected in the water where it now appears to be floating in the middle of the bay.

A gate that will mark the passage of this world back to magic.

One clear beacon in the darkness.

The shrine's illumination will shut down for the night soon, but Nariel goes ahead and cloaks just the gate for now, making it appear dark, so the tourists start wandering off. I don't know what hours the shrine workers keep, so he handles that too.

Once everyone has retreated, Nariel looks over at me. I've cast a spell for sight in the darkness, which apparently on angels causes them to be surrounded by a soft glow in my vision, a gentle blurring of light around the edges.

Not a white light though. Nariel is edged in darkness.

So it's like my own personal fallen angel radiates tendrils of darkness that cast no shadows, while I gaze into the velvet pools of his eyes and catch my breath.

This is it. One last moment.

"I'm with you," Nariel says, his gaze locked on mine. "All the way. Whatever you choose."

One last, perfectly painful moment.

Everything I want to say feels locked in my throat, and it's too late for me to be processing emotions, so I don't say anything more.

It's time to finish this.

I cast my first real spell of the night, a warding that will prevent casual observers from venturing closer. Nariel fades into the darkness as he adjusts the cloak, expanding it outward into a huge sphere covering the whole shrine and a substantial portion of the bay where the gate sits. Only anyone within his sphere will be able to see the world as it is.

Light returns with the illumination of the gate.

If Evram missed the beacon before, he'll be able to find what I'm going to do now.

I don't wait for him, instead turning and wading into the water toward the shrine.

With every step, I make magic. Ethereal sigils glow through the water, trailing behind me as I pass.

A step to gather all the local magic to this place.

A step to anchor it here.

A step to connect it to the other anchors of the world.

A step to take me the last distance to the gate itself, and the center of all my preparations.

I close my eyes, feeling the eddies of magic swirl around me, energized. Ready .

I turn back toward the shrine.

Illuminated against the darkness is Evram at the center.

Closing in behind him: ranks of mages, with Destien in the lead.

Brook is behind him, held between two guards and with another behind in a diamond formation. I mark her location and part of me relaxes. That was the one variable I hadn't been sure of.

I stare across at Evram for one long moment, and he stares back.

The light of the gate goes out, plunging us into darkness.

I make my move.

Under the gate and submerged in the water, arcane symbols flicker out from my position beneath the water.

High Earth teaches all Low Earth wizards to send our magic straight to their world.

With one spell, I reverse that flow of magic back into our world.

Magic rushes back into the world through the gate, so much magic that with my vision like this I can actually see it, transparent clouds billowing, crackling with sparkles of light, pouring through with the strength of a compacted, channeled thunderstorm.

I stand at the epicenter, and the force knocks me to my knees. I catch myself on my hands, waves lapping around me.

The force keeps coming.

The magic charges forward through me. Even performing the most powerful spells I handled in High Earth has nothing on this.

As the magic continues streaming, I finally, finally start to adjust.

It's like being glutted after a long period of malnourishment. I'm almost woozy at the feeling of the power I can access, but I manage to get to my feet and look toward the shrine.

Several of the High Earth mages were bowled over, and their sturdier fellows help them get back to their feet rather than advancing, trying to reform their line.

Because all the power they can feel here—

Tonight, all of it is mine.

I take a breath.

Destien yells, "RAISE SHIELDS!"

He isn't fast enough.

Not for me. Not now.

I fire off a set of spells that look like arrows of light arcing above and raining down on Brook's guards.

One speeds up as it descends, nailing the guard in the back first and dropping him right away.

Her side guards get a shield raised above their heads, and my bolts punch through them. The force is strong enough the wood under their feet cracks, and they're plunged into the holes.

From in front of her, Destien tugs Brook with him off the solid boards of the shrine floor and into the water. He must have had a directive not to let her go, because I can't think why he'd be that stupid otherwise, knowing I've prepared the ground.

He falls into the water, and he's in my spell.

Glowing beams of light like thin ropes immediately wrap around them, binding them. With a crook of my hand, I tug the magic surrounding Brook toward me, and she speeds over to me, flying over the water. She has no magical sensitivity, so the torrents of magic at the epicenter are completely lost on her.

"Holy shit, Sierra," Brook whispers at me.

I don't dare take my eyes off what's in front of me: Destien in his binds, a line of guards now on their feet and ready, Evram—

Fuck. Evram's expression is stormy.

What it isn't is worried.

"Are you okay?" I ask Brook.

"Fine. Can't say I'd rush to repeat the experience, but they didn't hurt me. I admit I didn't expect you to be able to resolve this quite so quickly."

"We're not done yet."

"We're not?"

"I'll be back."

"What? Wait, can't you untie me first?"

"Sorry, this is safer." If anything happens to the magic of this world those ropes will make sure she's anchored here instead of taken back to High Earth.

"Sierra!"

I can't look back. Not yet.

I can only move forward.

I wade a few steps toward the shrine, my eyes on Evram.

The grand magus looks down his nose at me. "You've made your choice," he says ominously.

"So did you," I tell him. "Long since."

"So I did," my once-mentor tells me. "And given what I see now, I cannot regret it."

Really? If I'd stayed in High Earth, I wouldn't have needed to do all this. My own selfishness and craving for magic wouldn't have radicalized me. He could have led me on forever with just enough.

Or maybe even there, I would have come to understand that I would always be a second-class citizen, never worth being treated as an equal, and I would have understood that exceptionalism was no alternative to solidarity.

Maybe he's right. Maybe this day was always coming.

"You have numbers." I gesture around. "But here, now, I have all the magic of an entire world. Shall we talk terms?"

Evram snorts. "You see? The absolute arrogance."

I flick my gaze briefly toward Destien, and to my surprise, he's looking back at me.

I don't know what that expression is, but when I see it all I can think is, Farewell.

Something has changed, and I don't know what's happening.

I rush ahead with my scheme as though if I move fast enough events can't outpace me, desperately keeping my voice even. "I have no desire to cripple High Earth, only for Low Earth to be left to its own fate. And I am willing to put myself in your hands as collateral, to ensure—"

Brook yells behind me, but I hardly hear it, as focused as I am on the grand magus as he pulls out a new wand that shines strangely in the darkness.

"Oh, it's much too late for that," Evram says, and there's malicious glee in his voice.

With a snap, the bindings around Destien dissolve, which sends a blip of backlash at me. Given all the magic still at my fingertips I barely feel it.

The sudden racing of my heart, I do.

Destien shoots himself out of the water and calls, "Fall back!"

And in that moment, another glow appears behind the grand magus.

I extend my senses toward it and rear back a step.

That's not a spell. That's—

Feathery wings. A harsh white radiance.

An angel emerges from the darkness.

And it's not Nariel.