Magic wrapped the box in colors of amber and purple. The stone grew so hot I dropped it, and the box landed with an echoing thud on the floor. As I studied the box, the wisps of purple faded, leaving only the amber. Coppery gold streamers danced around the smooth surfaces. After the swirling light disappeared, I carefully picked up the box. What was happening to it?
Purple was the color of fairy magic, and though its light had disappeared, I still felt the fairy powers within my box. Had the fairies found a way to help me? If so, then what were they hinting at? It must have had something to do with the amber magic—the Earth magic.
It was starting to make sense.
There was no such thing as Wult magic, but thousands of years ago, Vikings had crossed from Earth Kingdom, and although most humans weren’t aware of it, Earth magic existed.
I grabbed the box and turned the Wult symbol to face me. The backward three shape burned gold against the black backdrop. Focusing, I let my Earth magic flow into the symbol. Since I’d done this several times now, aligning the magic with the symbol was getting easier.
Warm, fluid magic encircled my hands as it moved into the stone. The light grew brighter as energy drained from my body. After the spell entered the stone, the symbol disappeared.
Relief washed over me. I looked up, not seeing any fairies present but wondering if they could hear me. “Thank you,” I said aloud. I didn’t get an answer, but I felt they heard me.
I turned back to the box. Four symbols down, one to go—the one I dreaded most. I turned the box so the skull symbol faced me. No matter how far I’d come, none of it mattered if I didn’t get past the black magic symbol. But how? I’d never used black magic before. Most people hadn’t. I had seen others use it—the Regaymor, Geth, the bloodthorn. I’d also seen the witch use it, although her magic seemed less tainted, but I wasn’t exactly sure why. My hands shook as I held the stone box. I’d come too far just to fail.
Pacing the library, I tried to find some clue about how to conjure black magic, but the more I pondered it, the more manipulated I felt. Surely the witch knew I didn’t possess the art. She’d given me an impossible task… unless she’d intended for me to harness Theht’s powers. But was she even aware Theht existed within me? It seemed unlikely, as I’d never told anyone.
I left the library feeling more frustrated than hopeful. Afternoon gave way to evening as I found the staircase leading down to the dungeon. The sound of dripping water echoed through the dank chambers as I wandered from one room to the next. With only a few hours left to break the box’s spell, panic welled up inside me. I felt desperate to open it, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with any way to do it.
My thoughts distracted me from paying attention to where I was going, and as I wandered through the dungeons, it took me longer than I would have liked to find Kull’s chamber. When I finally located the room and entered, I found him sleeping on a straw mattress on the floor, covered with a rough gray blanket. Dark circles shadowed his sunken eyes, twitching behind closed eyelids. I hoped to never see him like this again, but it seemed Kull, like me, would never be free of the demons haunting him.
Kull stirred as I sat beside him, but he didn’t open his eyes. The stone collar glowed faintly around his neck. It was only a matter of time before he transformed completely and became one of the wraiths.
I gently took his hand and held his fingers in mine. I’d hoped to talk to him about the box, but now I didn’t want to disturb him, so I removed the lotus cube from my pocket and placed it in front of me. I’d found the secret for removing the Wult spell, so maybe learning how to overcome black magic would be possible, too.
As I sat on the cold stone floor, I whispered one spell after another, but none of them had any effect on the box. Time passed, and I knew it was near midnight when I finally stood up and paced the room. My hands grew clammy as I held the box. With only a few minutes before the spell transformed Kull, I knew I’d run out of options.
As I paced the room, I noticed Kull’s sword hanging on the wall like a trophy. Silvestra was controlling Kull with the sword just like the journals and elven talismans in the library. Glancing from the box to the sword, I realized playing her game was no longer an option. Silvestra had sworn opening the box was possible—and maybe it was—if she’d given me a few months to figure it out. But truthfully, I still wasn’t sure breaking the spell was something I could do.
The box grew warm as I held it. I studied the skull symbol one last time, feeling as if it mocked me. I was so done with that stupid box. Tossing it across the room, I listened as it landed with a loud clatter on the paving stones. Turning, I grabbed Bloodbane’s worn handle, feeling its heaviness and perfectly balanced weight in my hands. In the dim candlelight, each nick and dent was made apparent. Each time Kull had battled was etched into the sword’s surface. Every drop of blood, of sweat, of tears… well, possibly not tears—I wouldn’t go that far. But every war he’d fought
