Piratical Nonsense

CHAPTER TEN

Brilliant yellow lit the edge of the horizon as they exited the grove into a clearing. The grass grew tall at the tree line, with fading yellow autumn flowers that were more dried husks than blossoms. The rest of the vegetation looked burned, like the Goddesses and Gods had sat around a massive fire made from their followers’ prayers.

“What in the piratical nonsense?” Saph muttered, slowing the wagon.

Divine followed her gaze. “It looks like it will fall down any minute,” she whispered.

In the middle of the blackened shoots leaned a small house. It appeared to be made from a ship flipped upside down, wooden hull pointed to the sky, over a regular house, warped and leaning with age. An arched doorway was the sole entrance. Windows existed as port holes on what was the top layer, but multiple wood planks nailed the lower-level windows shut. The sounds of birds had quieted.

Divine leaned closer to Saph. “This place is creepy. Maybe we should wait until morning.”

Saph wrapped an arm around Divine’s shoulders. “While I’d love to sit here and comfort you, let’s release the magic user, Trickster or other servant, and get our reward. We’ll be done before the sun finishes setting.”

“What if it’s a trap?” Hundreds of scenarios played out in Divine’s mind. None ended cheerfully. This was a bad idea. Especially if Madeline had been here. Something was missing from the story.

“You’ve got your magic. And if you recall, I’m a trained mercenary.” Saph swung her legs over the side and dropped out of the cart, the twin edges of her axe flashing with sunset hues. “Now, the crystals.”

Glancing at the house, Divine rummaged in the pack at her feet and withdrew the pouch with three crystals. She jumped down, her boots crunching on the dried vegetation, then lifted one foot, expecting to find crumbled bits, but the growths remained. She bent down and noted the ash-like dusting of the soil. The fire-blackened appearance of the plants was numerous blackspots. She thought of Leafy’s appearance before she healed him and joined Saph at the back of the wagon bed.

They laid the small map across the dusty floorboards.

“Should we tell the letter-writer we’re here?” Divine surveyed the house again. With no open windows, it seemed abandoned. The carpet of black around the structure was equally unwelcoming.

“I doubt they want to tell their tale through the keyhole. Let’s introduce ourselves when we can give the good news.”

Divine nodded, wondering how the magic user had managed to get crystals, a chest, and maps out while remaining trapped inside.

“The first spot is a tree…there.” Divine pointed to tree covered in vegetation. “Let’s be careful. This whole quest is starting to feel off.”

The crystals clinked into her hand and the pair walked to the first location. Night-blooming snow pinwheels vined up the remains of a tree trunk, their fragrant blossoms filling the air with a rich scent drizzled with tang. Divine searched for a crystal-sized nook in the length of trunk, but everything seemed ordinarily tree-like, though the leaves were so blotched with black spots that barely any green remained.

“The black spot has infected even out here. I thought it was only the crops,” Saph mused.

“The whole ground is black. It’s not contagious to people, is it?” Divine brushed her nose then settled on placing the yellow ice-cube-shaped crystal at the base of the tree.

“I haven’t heard of it doing anything more than damaging our food sources.”

The pair followed the map to the next location, a well overgrown with climbing roses so uncultivated the thorny stems crisscrossed over the stone structure like a woven basket. Its glossy leaves were pitted with holes.

“Whatever this black spot is, it’s worse here,” Divine reflected, “the grass is dead and this ash is just…weird.”

Divine saw her mother’s garden, festooned with blooms that climbed along fences, bushes stretching toward her ankles and elbows on the meandering paths. Her mother—a large brimmed hat casting her face in shadow—clipped the stems with decided snips to shape the bushes for the next growing season. She smiled, looking up as Divine plucked a sunset orange blossom to take inside.

Divine blinked quickly, the blue crystal placed, and rose from the fount. The translucent crystal’s location was near a wheelbarrow. None of the sites seemed interesting enough to be magical, but they created a triangle around the house in their placement.

“I guess that’s fulfilled.” Saph brushed her hands together like brushing off dirt. “I half expected a sound or flash at the completion. One way to find out if we did the ritual correctly.”

The cool air in the clearing smelled like a perfume shop. Divine tilted her nose in the air. “Do you smell that?”

Saph lifted her chin. “Apple blossoms and…snow pinwheels. I haven’t been out of the city at dark for some time, and I forgot what autumn nights can smell like…other than the scent of nightly pleasures.”

Divine’s shoulders relaxed. At least she wasn’t alone in noticing the stronger scent of the flowers.

“Let’s try the door,” Divine suggested.

They approached the boat-shaped house and its blackened threshold. The oval door, the wood burnt along the edges, gave no hint as to what, if anything, was inside. Divine hung back, letting Saph approach.

The tavern owner knocked. Silence answered and after several breaths Saph tried the door handle.

“Locked,” Saph grumbled.

Divine took a step back, eyeing the building. “I think I have to connect the crystals.”

“With magic?” Saph looked down at the map shaking her head. “I don’t see anything about connecting them.”

“It’s odd.” Divine looked to the roof where a familiar rainbow bird perched on the bottom of the upturned boat. In fact, she’d seen that type of bird several times since arriving at Iramont. “I just have a feeling.”

Saph shrugged and Divine retraced their steps. As she walked the charred ground, she dipped into her well, trying to drip magic from the last crystal to the previous one; a droplet trail. But her magic struck something else, like the presence of another Soulshield when mending a broken bone together. Magic between them that she hadn’t felt in Iramont was already connecting the crystals. That meant something here was affecting them. The unknown servant inside the house?

Divine tried to pull at the invisible string. It didn’t budge. Deeper into her well she plunged, bringing enough magic to create a rope wrapping itself around the other tendril of magic.

She tugged hard, drinking from her well to give her strength. The magical string snapped from the crystal. Divine staggered back, panting.

“You ok?”

Divine waved her off. “Just need to catch my breath.”

Amber light illuminated the house from the three locations. The air hung…lighter, as if they had been walking on the bottom of the ocean before and had reached the bright shore.

“That’s more like it,” Saph jubilated.

Divine nodded to Saph and as the last light of the sun filtered through the trees, the pair approached the entrance, pausing on the threshold.

Saph swept her hand toward the oval door.

“What?” Divine raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who wanted this quest. After you.”

“Fine.” Saph straightened the waistband of her billowy pants. “What’s with you and approaching doors?” Her knuckles rapped against the wood. “You should be able to come out now, unknown magic wielder.”

Light blazed into Divine’s sight, and she raised her arm over her eyes.

Muffled voices reverberated in harmonic tones, like a choir in a cave: You needed the separation…to know how deep you could drink.

Images rushed across her vision. Saph knocking on the farmhouse door. Madeline answering. Divine’s defenses going up too late.

What are you doing here? You should be further—

Ah, so this is Madeline.

Muddle them.

A man’s voice. Familiar. Threatening. The man from the alleyway who attacked Madeline. No, a ruse .

He’s right. You won’t do what we need knowing we wanted it. No, it’s better you think this was your own idea. Was it the bird that gave me away?

I don’t know what you’re going on about.

Madeline turned her back to them, looking over her shoulder. The tattoo of the songbird quivered, a wing extending from Madeline’s skin in blue feathers before it flattened again into ink.

You were so in tune with creature souls. There’s no deity for them, yet—it’s why I chose you for this. Your mother poking around in the archives was just the clue I needed.

What do you want, Madeline? What haven’t you already stolen from me?

I’ll tell you. You won’t remember this conversation until you play your part, and then it won’t matter anymore. But perhaps a shadow will remain, enough of a memory to guide you the right way. So that you don’t get off course. Again. Our agents have hunted the location for ages. Finally, I found it. And I found you. Your lineage had signs. But I had to watch you to be sure. You healed a bird’s wing, do you remember, that had hit your window? And you have a well just deep enough I didn’t need to approach someone of more…skill. Less likely I’d fool them.

You stole my talisman to get me here. To the southern reaches. You knew I’d chase you.

An artifacts dealer was to ‘ encounter’ you on the road with your talisman and the chest, but he went and got himself killed. And the chest stolen. So, we improvised. Ehmin followed the chest to Iramont’s tavern, and I took the talisman into the Holy District. The tavern wench inserted herself into the plan before we could figure out how to get the chest back and in your path again. But the Goddess of Condemnation was with us as you found the chest anyway.

There are others with a well as ‘ shallow’ as mine. Why me?

I needed someone with an affinity to non-humans. We want to control him, not just release him. And no magic wielders are as willing to aid others as a Soulshield. You have the perfect combination of abilities. Did you like my riddles? You can’t say no to someone in need, can you? Besides, only a servant of the Goddess of Souls will work. I already tried to free him.

Free who?

Why, the very soul your Goddess and mine still wrestle for.

The light faded and Divine lowered her arm. She blinked as Saph’s hand raised to the door’s handle.

“Saph, stop!” Divine grabbed her wrist. “Madeline wanted—”

Overhead a songbird twittered merrily as the door seemed to expand in size. Divine plunged into her well but flailed within its dark recess. The door caved in and swallowed them.

* * *

Divine blinked. Water dripped into a small puddle at the center of a room; a table and chair against the far wall completed the sparse furnishings. She spun toward the door but found no outline. Above them, walked a man on the ceiling, or what would have been the bottom of an upright boat.

“Hello, magic user!” Saph called, cupping her hands around her mouth. When he didn’t respond she called again. “We have freed you and patiently await the treasures you have for us.”

Divine’s chest tightened. She closed the distance between them and placed her arm around Saph’s shoulders. She tried to shake off the feeling of failure so she could protect them both now. Thankfully, the figure continued to pace above them.

Saph twisted toward Divine, one hand on her hip as she pointed above. “Doesn’t seem keen to get out of here, that one.”

“I just remembered some of what Madeline said to us at the farm. She wants us to free him.” Divine looked away from the figure. “Some of her muddling is righting itself. Are you remembering anything?”

“Not yet, I don’t think.” Saph tilted her head back. Divine’s gaze traced her neck to the chain of beads colored in the hues of water.

“I’m inclined to do the opposite of anything she wants.” Divine locked her gaze on Saph’s green eye as the woman looked at her again. “The reward is probably a ruse, too. She wanted me to be here.”

Light pressure from Saph’s hand rested on Divine’s shoulder. “There’s definitely a trap. But you’ve got me now, gorgeous. Bet she didn’t plan on that. What do you remember?”

“Madeline said that she had already gotten an Anvil of the God of Storms to release a crystal. And a Hydromancer I think. It’s still fuzzy but together those crystals created a lock around this place. To keep something, someone, here.”

Divine craned her neck. Something seemed off about the air, like a haze hung between them and the man. Why would their Goddesses be fighting over this person? And why didn’t the other Gods or Goddesses seem to care? Her eyes trailed down to where a normal ceiling should be, following the blank wall to the floor, until she focused on the puddle.

She walked over to it and squatted. Within the water floated shadows, but they weren’t reflections from above. It was as if she stared through one of the portholes, watching the man walk upright.

“This water is like a scrying pool,” she said, “only…”

Saph squatted beside her. “But it’s looking into the same place?”

Divine shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Scrying shows you somewhere else. Unless”—she looked above them—“that isn’t really here. Maybe that is the projection, like the fountain in Iramont.”

“If that’s not here, where is it?”

Divine shrugged. “But I have a feeling this is more than a viewer.”

“A portal? Is that possible?”

“Possible, yes. The Harvesters can pull an ear of corn to them from elsewhere. Maybe a Hydromancer can create a portal to the place in a scrying pool?” Divine thought about her interactions with Listhinci, and the odd scrying dish that sat on her table. And how the Goodly One said some people could use other’s talismans. “It’s possible I may know less about the temples than I assume. Because I think they have been hiding some of their abilities.”

“If it’s a portal, let’s go get our reward, then.” Saph stood, lifting her foot over the puddle.

Divine yanked her back, catching the woman against her as she toppled off balance. “I don’t know if we can get back. With Madeline involved, I don’t trust this. I think she wrote the letter.”

“We’ll, if there’s a chance we get rewarded I say we take it. And we mess up whatever plans Madeline has along the way. What do you say, take a leap with me?”

Divine’s heart fluttered at Saph’s wide grin. “You do love adventure. I don’t smell a stronger flower scent, but let’s stay close so I can shield us if needed.”

She grabbed Saph’s hand and, squeezing it, they stepped forward. The puddle splashed around her boot. The air rippled, then they stood at the bottom of the boat. Out of the nearest porthole a fish swam past in a murky liquid.

The charms on her laces tinkled as Divine shook her foot, but only the soles of her boot were wet. She held her breath in the silence, grasping the cold steel of the bangles around her wrist.

Something scraped against wood.

Divine whirled.

The man stood a step behind them, the shadows of the room tinting his skin pale blue. At least she thought it was a man, though he stood as tall as the ursavaras. His hair, gradient pink to orange, cascaded down his back. His clothes had holes—no, black spots—and the ends trailed threads.

He grinned, his teeth narrower and his mouth slightly protruding more than normal Trelvanian physiology. And he blinked abnormally fast. “Ah, someone from the living realm. Thank you for breaking the seal.”

“Living realm?” Saph tapped the piercing at her helix. “Where, deities tell, do you think you’ve been?”

He cracked his knuckles in front of his chest. “In between. But her net is severed, and I can taste the magics seeping in.”

Divine coughed, the scent of roses palpable on her throat, stinging her nose. Her magic’s warning. She clenched her jaw, then dove into her well, drawing enough magic to place a barrier around herself and Saph before the man lurched forward. He bounced off the invisible barrier.

“Give me the crystals,” he growled, flexing his fingers in the air over the barrier.

Another pair of arms unfolded from behind his back. Two pairs of hands. With the top pair, he reached behind his back. When he pulled them forward, he was clutching an axe in each hand.

A sigh huffed from Saph. “Why do they always think two is better than one?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Divine saw Saph shift her two-handed axe before her. The man lurched again, the axes ricocheting, and he staggered back.

“Blessed by three, cursed by three. They created me then abandoned me.” He rubbed the blade edges together, blue sparks jumping between them.

Magic . Divine gasped. He wasn’t human, yet he was using magic.

“Once I have the power,” he growled, “I can wield all of my gifts.”

Source of power…“They’re talismans!”

“What?” Divine asked, shifting the weight of her axe more to her abled hand.

“The crystals. They’re talismans. I have to get back to them.”

“He has three?”

“That or he’s using someone’s power through their talisman. He said her net was severed. I cut the magical bonds that was keeping him from accessing the magic well…I think.”

“Then I’ll hold him off.”

Divine turned, “I can’t leave you.”

“Darlin,’ I survived on my own before you came along.” Saph’s mouth curved in a lopsided grin.

Her heart seemed to swell in her chest for Saph. “It doesn’t have to be like that. You shouldn’t have to do it all alone.”

“Nor you. We’re working together. I’ll entertain this walking arm-a-pede. Now, go and save our asses.”

Divine took a step toward the woman, her indecision halting her steps like not knowing the movements of a dance. Decision made, she spun away. Her eye caught the image of long hydrilla whorls swaying in the rippling surface of the puddle. She stepped in, stretching her magic into a thin stream to feed the protective sphere around Saph as she exited.

Then she was falling. No, floating. Her eyes stung and she knew she shouldn’t take a breath. Unfathomably, the puddle had led her not to the previous room. She was underwater. Divine pumped her arms and kicked her legs, but her boots were like rocks lashed to her feet.

As she tugged off her boots, she saw the boat from the clearing below her; upright and resting on the silt of a hydrilla-filled lake bottom. The pool had shown her this, but she had moved too quickly to understand the image it had shown her. Saph was in the sunken wreck. And this must be the lake shaped like a splinter of the moon. Would the water surge in at any moment and drown Saph? And Divine would watch, helpless to save someone she cared for. Again.

Let go of your guilt. A voice bubbled through her thoughts. The same voice which had said she needed to know how deep she could drink.

Divine listened.

Focusing, she found the tendril of power that connect her to Saph, and the protection Divine had left for her. At least it was still in place. What was it that Madeline had said? An affinity for creatures? She grasped her talisman which floated before her and closed her eyes, seeing the creatures of the lake, calling them to her with a shout echoing in the depths of her magic’s well.

She started to swim in the direction she hoped was up. Her body rushed, propelled by fish, through the water, hair floating behind her. She tightened her eyelids against the fast flow. Then she erupted through the lake’s surface, fish spouting beneath her. Divine and the creatures cascaded back into the water with a splash. With easy strokes she resurfaced, gasping, and swam to the shore.

Divine coughed, spitting out water and saw the path she and Saph had traversed in the wagon, now lit by the golden morning rays. How much time had they spent inside the boat? She shivered as water from her hair dribbled down her face. The path back to the boat house would be longer on foot. It was almost like it existed in two places at once; the lake and the clearing. Tossing her water-logged jacket to the ground, she ran as fast as she could in her soaked clothes and bare feet from the crescent-shaped lake.

She reached the familiar, burgundy-leafed forest edge. Panting, she leaned on her knees. She had felt ecstasy in this forest, and now…Divine focused on her well, checking the tendril was still there connected to Saph; thin, more of a trickle, but it existed. She wondered how long before the protection she offered left Saph vulnerable.

“Elder! Leafy!” she called. “I need your help!”

Silence answered but for the faint buzz of insects.

She pictured the Elder, and touched the nearest tree. The leaves trembled as she sent out her plea for help through its bark and down into its roots. Her breath slowed to a comfortable level and Divine ran again, into the forest.

The ground quaked before Divine heard the rustling of many trees. Then Leafy’s branches parted the smaller saplings and his trunk emerged beside her.

“Rootless one. The soil sang your name.”

“Can you move quicker than I can run?”

“When I have the need.”

“I need your help. I must get to the clearing after Willow Way. We released something…something I don’t think we were supposed to set free. It must be what you were protecting.”

“If that is the case, then I have failed in my purpose. But I promised you aid. Climb into my branches. Let us mend what is broken.”

Divine did as instructed. As she sat in the crux of Leafy’s branches, leaning against his trunk, the Elder’s roots bent. Some stretched forward, like tentacles on a sea creature or a decacacti, and the pair moved. The roots alternated, pulling them as fast as a galloping horse.

“I remember now what happened to my brother,” he began, the surrounding trees blurring into Divine’s periphery. “It was several sunrises ago. A woman and a man came to the forest. They had a box and wanted to pass through to the dwelling-in- three-places. We denied them entrance. The man had the power of lighting and struck”—he made the sound of tapping wood again for his brother’s name—“down. I snapped his branches and tossed him into the Goddess’s lake.”

Divine nodded. Her mind wasn’t completely clear of the muddling, but events were starting to make sense. Not Madeline’s husband, as she had told the Soulsage with the pendants, but an associate of hers had drowned. Madeline’s lies seemed to always be rooted in some truth. With lightning, he had to be a servant of the God of Storms. Madeline had said an Anvil had released a crystal. If the Goddess of Souls created another of them, who created the last one?

“Do you know why they wanted to reach it?” Divine rested a hand against the bark, sending soothing energy as she would send as a Soulshield to comfort a human’s loss.

“Who am I to know the hearts of the rootless ones? Evil has spread out from that being. All should stay away from its disease.”

Divine thought of the black spots on the Elder’s leaves and his corrupted soul gem. They passed into the glade where they first encountered Leafy and plunged into the willow trees barrier.

“What is it? Do you know?”

“After I was created, I heard the Goddesses talking. The Goddess of Souls had bound a returned soul to a boradain. The Goddess of Condemnation was angry.”

Divine’s eyes widened. Creatures didn’t have magic wells, and this one was using magic. They created an Elder, like Leafy. “But boradains are just myths. Even if it was real, it already had sapience. A soul is never bound to something with sapience.”

“Perhaps that is true. But it was done. At the bequest of the God of Storms.”

“The blue sparks,” Divine whispered. “It must have a soul gem to access the power granted it.”

“The creature that was created had been uncontrollable. Heinous acts against humans. The God and Goddess planned to seal it away.”

“That would explain the stories.” Divine narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the branches for their destination. The boradain puppet had been harmless in the hands of the Iramont performer, as cuddly even as a child’s night snuggly. Such a false interpretation. “Instead of a myth, boradains must have been a real creature. Why do I feel this is true? If so, others of its kind were likely hunted until extinct out of fear of this one’s…augmentation.” That would explain why she’d never heard of anyone seeing a boradain. Divine frowned. “But you were created the same way and didn’t immediately go bad.”

“I do not have the gifts of three deities inside me.”

They exited the trees into the burnt clearing. It looked even more desolate in the growing light, the dirt a sooty-grey with inky-black streaks swimming between the dead stems. Though she wanted to hear more of Leafy’s tale, Divine hopped from the branch and dashed toward the first crystal.

Wind rustled the surrounding trees before Divine felt its cold touch—a warning whip in her hair. She tilted her head back. The sky held heavy grey stretched beyond her sight, and rapid wisps showed the bulky puffs moved swiftly.

“Let me know if you see anything,” she called to Leafy, dropping to her knees.

Divine cupped the yellow crystal in her hand and closed her eyes. Her chest tightened, finding the thread to Saph gone. She listened, hearing a woman’s shout and a thud, and hoped Saph had delivered the blow. There was nothing she could do about that now but complete her task.

Slipping her hand into her pocket, Divine’s mental fingers gingerly touched the space she found within the Iguion’s object. Where Divine’s well felt smooth as water, this felt sharp and cold as ice. She focused down into her own well, bringing a bucket out to pour over the crystal. Her magical energy washed over the talisman, how she imagined a Second Level Soulsage would do to cleanse it. Then she wrapped strands of sharp ice from the black triangle in her pocket around the magical strand that tethered the crystal to its magic. She lashed it tight. Tighter.

The tether splintered and Divine fell over. Breathing heavily, she charged to the next location.

She repeated the exercise, the weight of the next pull from her well heavy and slow.

“You!” the Elder bellowed.

Divine spun. On the roof of the boat where the rainbow bird had been earlier sat Madeline, deliberately applauding. The charcoal lines made her eyes look hollow.

“I knew you could do it!” Madeline called.

Divine frowned. “Leafy, keep her busy. She can’t muddle you a second time so soon.”

Twisting back, Divine dropped to her knees. The weight of a wagon pressed into her shoulders and she breathed like she’d ran through the forest. But with some effort, her magic finally flowed where she wanted it.

Behind her, sounds of creaking limbs and thumping branches filled the clearing. Divine stood, hand clutching her locket, and spun to face the noise.

Madeline stood in her way.

“I’ll take it from here.” Madeline held out her hand.

Divine released her locket, clasping the crystals in both hands. “What is that…thing in there?”

“It’s the soul your Goddess stole from mine. Its atrocities must be punished.”

“And you think it will just let you?” Divine’s head burned. “If she locked him away, he must be dangerous to us all. He’s likely the source of the black spot.”

“He is. I traced the spreading corruption back to here. It’s what happens when some deities think they can do things on their own. But don’t worry, my Goddess always punishes the wicked.” Madeline tilted her head.

Divine straightened. “Maybe she should start with you!”

Madeline looked at her feet, the gesture incongruous with her other actions. “I’m sorry I deceived you. I was sworn to secrecy in my mission.”

“You could have asked for my help. I would have—” Divine caught herself before she admitted it. She would have followed Madeline anywhere. Drops burnt her eyes and she blinked hard. A shadow of the feeling she once had for Madeline fell on Divine as she stared at her lips. But this guilty display was just another ruse.

“I know that now.” Madeline’s tone dripped with poisoned honey. “But it was so important that I find the soul stolen from my Goddess. To end the black spot for Trelvania. I just…I hate to ask this of you after all I’ve put you through. I need you to release the soul. It has been banished to a place between living and the afterlife. You aren’t a Soulshaper, but he is not in the beyond. And he’s not human. I have faith you can guide him back to our dimension. And I will shackle him for the Goddess of Condemnation so that he may be eternally punished.”

Divine sniffed. “The roses of my mother say you’re a lying sack of horse—”

“Fine.” Madeline snatched Divine’s locket, the chain snapping, scratching the back of her neck. “I should have tried harder to access to your well when I had it.”

Madeline stepped out of Divine’s reach. Clutching where the chain had cut into her neck, Divine staggered back.

“Enough of the lies, Madeline!” Divine shouted, punctuating her words with a stamp of her foot. “Tell me what you are really after or I’ll, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Heal me?” Madeline cackled. “I’ll tell you the truth, but you’re not going to believe it. Three created this creature and hid it from my Goddess. The First Elder. He’s an Anvil, a Hydromancer, and a Soulshaper. Only it went wrong. Other Elders after were made with only one gift. This boradain wouldn’t listen to their commands and the destruction it created nearly exposed what the pantheon really was. But the advantage? It became a massive source of power. Power that my Goddess needs to once and for all defeat the Goddess of Souls.”

“You’ve been stealing other people’s talismans,” Divine breathed, her hand dropping to her pocked and closing around Listhinci’s gift. She couldn’t let Madeline access her well. Yet she didn’t want to lose her magic by severing the connection. “Your Goddess can use them.”

“You’re half right. I’ll give you credit—you’re more observant than I thought you were. You’re just so gullible. Every magic well is a source of power to a deity it’s tied to. Why do you think they compete for followers? Us agents are just redistributing the access points.”

It was true. What she’d been questioning was actually, awfully true. She gripped the triangular object tighter and focused her mind on entering whatever void or well was within it.

Madeline held up Divine’s locket. “This contains access to the Goddess of Soul’s powers. I’ll find a way to use it, with or without your help.” Her eyes flashed as she skewered Divine. “You think I’m full of lies, but you don’t know the half of it. I can open your eyes to the truth. Help me, and the knowledge is yours.”

Cold filled her blood and Divine was sure she would breathe out fog at any moment. Madeline stepped forward as Leafy stepped between them.

“The soil is restless, rootless one. Something grows, but not here. You are an Old Soul. You can feel it, can’t you?”

Glancing over her shoulder, Divine debated. Something was calling to her, but not from the echoes of her well. And what in Trelvania was an Old Soul? Old Souls and Old Magic. What did it mean?

A drop of rain landed on her wrist. She’d told Saph it would rain. Saph.

Taking a deep breath, she sprinted to the door of the house, the sound of Saph’s muffled voice just beyond. Dark triangle in hand, Divine grabbed hold of freezing magical threads as she dove at the door, the same wintry shards she felt severing the crystal talismans. She let the door swallow her as she squeezed the triangle. A wave of magic shattered painfully behind her eyes, echoing before a lid snapped shut on her well, the sounds ceasing in deafening silence.