Page 228 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Now, six weeks in, the hardest part for me was still the uncertainty. Some days Pete seemed to be on the mend, and others he was knocking on death’s door again. I worried every minute of every day that he’d never get better.
Thankfully, for the last week or so, there’d been more good days than bad, and I’d eased up on visiting the infirmary to get more work done around Eden. Pete had a hefty list of duties as Eden’s warden, and while I knew little about carpentry, fishing, hunting, oranythingabout the running of a thriving village, I was willing to learn from those who did know, help where I could.
Today, though, I really was needed for a major project that all the other zephyrists in Eden had been working on for a while—damage control to quell the forest fire I’d started. It still burned in places, and they’d grown desperate enough to solicit help from me, a newbie. I hoped they were willing to teach me from their collective knowledge. Having met them all before at various times, I knew they’d be kind to me.
“Ah, Amy,” Myrrdin said as I tramped into theAnam Cararotunda, where five other zephyrists of varying fae races congregated. “Right on time.”
I smiled at Myrrdin and his convoy of cherubic children, including Jet, who sung a gleeful, “Hallo, Amy,” flitting around with his friends.
The little ones spent time in the kirk and its surrounding yards each day, so their developing bodies could age a few hours. Still, some of them had been children for more than 16 years.
“So, where are we doing this?” Setting down my basket, I joined the zephyrists, psyched to flex my magical muscles that day. Lately, I hadn’t been doing much flexing, what with all my chores—and all the time I’d devoted to Pete’s bedside.
“The observatory, to start,” Riordan, Eden’s most senior zephyrist,answered. His long, spring-green finger pointed toward the glass dome rising leagues above us.
Not seeing a stairway, I asked, “How are we getting up there?”
In a group of zephyrists, that was a stupid question. Two other beyns took my hands, giggling, and gazed upward.
“Oh.”Duh, Amy.“Sorry. Still forgetting I can fly.”So weird.
“Have a safe flight,” Myrrdin said before herding the children into the sunshine. We didn’t catch much vitamin D in Eden.
“Ready?” Riordan asked, raking his jet-black hair.
Each of us called up a wind. Halfway to the top of the dome, I looked to the beyn on my left, Imogen—one of two other Dananns in Eden. She had friendly eyes, olivey skin, and a crop of wavy hair, two-toned from brown to gold. “Is there a door up there?” I called, hoping we weren’t going to bust through the etched glass dome like assholes. Yeah, the kirk was just a decoy, but it was a beautiful decoy.
Imogen answered, “You’ll see.” Then she pulled me into her wind, and we both squealed as our combined magics shot us above everyone else. Nearly ten feet from the dome, the suns magnified through it, Imogen squeezed my wrist. “Call up a second wind! Blow it at the glass!”
I bit my lip, mentally pushing along beside her.
The glass dome separated into petals, us zephyrists slipping between them. We hovered above the dome for several moments before it closed again, and Riordan directed us to land upon the pristine glass.
I cringed, hoping not to leave boot prints.
Then, gazing out at the world beyond—the jungle and all its peaks and falls and foliage—I forgot I was even wearing boots. I stopped breathing.
But we weren’t there to sightsee. Riordan got down to business.
The dome’s etchings weren’t just decorative. They projected the map of the fae realm—Mag Mell.
Well, don’t you feel like a straight-up ignoramus, Amy? Why would you just assume your new world had no name?
Mag Mell boasted a ring of four massive continents with a large central ocean and another on the outside. Countless islands peppered these massive water bodies, even the tiniest land masses represented. Yet the Shadow Court, Covenlen—nowhere to be found. Yes, the place was a blemish, a wasteland, and the beating heart of evil. But pretending it didn’t exist felt like a copout. Because it did exist, and weallneeded to remember that.
After gathering us around Lithalaly, the southernmost continent, Riordan sprinkled a red powder over the lands between us. Figment flames shot up on the map wherever my jungle fire still blazed, even after rainfall.
I winced at the widespread devastation I’d caused.
“After we suppress the flames, Amy, the terra sylphen will repair the destruction. They can’t regrow the lost vegetation, but they can awaken soil elementals to do it for them.” Riordan offered a kind smile, shutting his powder canister. “Fret not.”
Easier said than done, dude.
“All right,” I said. “So, how do we suppress fire?”
He rubbed his hands together. “You’ll know wind fuels fires, aye? Well, our task is to siphon that fuel from the flames.”
I blinked. “You mean we have tosuckit out?”
