I walked away, powerless to stop the serpents that drew more and more magma aspects into the ruined chamber.
My serpents folded back into my aura and vanished as I left the inferno I’d created behind. One day, the stone would harden, and the casket would be lost for all time.
My knees shook as I left the cave behind and collapsed in Clem’s arms.
“It’s done,” I croaked through heat-cracked lips. “Get us out of here.”
The Heart
ABI FISHED AROUND IN the pouch dangling from his robes’ belt, searching for the bridge key to trigger the portal for the next leg of our journey. I leaned heavily on Clem and watched jagged cracks rip through the walls of the island’s caldera. Gouts of yellow-tinged smoke burst through the new openings and were followed by sluggish flows of bubbling magma. My spell had awakened the island from centuries of slumber, and now its veins ran hot and red again. But even as the liquid fire I’d unleashed consumed trees and devoured undergrowth, its warmth couldn’t reach me past the waves of cold radiating from the bullet wound in my side.
“We should take you back to the School,” Clem insisted.
Freezing wind blasted out of the gate that Abi had finally opened. The portal hung in the air, its mouth tinged the vicious purple of a black eye. The crisp, clean scent of winter air surrounded us, and the sonorous tolling of a nearby church bell rang across the caldera.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Really, I’m all right. Let’s get this over with.”
Clem nodded and watched me warily as I stood up straight. A lance of pain skewered through me, but I ignored it. I could do this.
I had to.
Without a backward glance, I stepped forward in space and back in time. The ruddy, late-afternoon glow of the fading sun from over the caldera’s ridge behind me was pushed back by golden shafts of light over low hills I faced to the east. The warm tropical air was countered by the brisk winter breezes that chased stray snowflakes in skittering circles around my ankles.
My friends emerged from the portal behind me, and we all stood in the shadow of a long, low house painted bright blue. A paved, two-lane street lay ahead of us, and the town of Hoghilag spread out in every direction. A sixth and final peal of the church’s bell rang out, answered only by the distant cry of birds greeting the morning sun.
“It’s too cold here,” Abi complained. “Where are we headed?”
Clem crept up to the edge of the house and peered around its corner. She swiveled her head in the opposite direction, shielding her eyes from the sun with one raised hand. “This way,” she said. “I see the top of the tower. It’s only a couple of blocks away.”
“You sure you’re up for this?” Eric asked me. “You can hang out here. We’ll come back for you.”
I forced myself to ignore the painful wound. The bullet hadn’t gone in deep, but it gnawed at my muscles with every step I took. Staying here would be the easiest course of action, there was no doubt about that. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take that option. If anything happened to my friends while I cowered in the shadows, I’d never forgive myself.
“I’m good,” I said. “This won’t take long.”
Clem led the way, with Abi beside her. Eric and I took up the rear, and I was acutely aware that his eyes were on me more than our surroundings. It bothered me to take up so much of his attention when danger could arrive at any moment.
Not that there was any sign of danger. The village of Hoghilag was Christmas-postcard perfect. Snow clung to the peaked roofs of brightly colored houses and blanketed the plains that stretched from the small town’s outskirts to the feet of the mounded hills that encircled it. The early morning air was rich with the scent of woodsmoke trickling from stone chimneys, and the comforting aroma of brewing coffee escaped from the houses around us. The holiday decorations, blinking lights hanging from the eaves and evergreen wreathes protecting the doorways, added to the village’s coziness.
“I really hope we don’t have to fight Santa Claus for his magic candy cane,” Eric said with a snicker. “Hard to believe there’s anything worth traveling to a dinky little place like this.”
“Right?” I’d imagined Hoghilag as an ancient, isolated hamlet perched on the side of an inaccessible mountain.
But the asphalt road that ran through its center made it easy for travelers to enter or leave the village, and the homes we’d seen so far were small, but far from rustic. Other than the brightly colored paint jobs on the buildings, this town would have fit right into the suburbs of Dallas. “Makes you wonder how many other little towns have hidden treasures nobody will ever find.”
That was one of the sad facts I’d come to accept doing my research for this quest. No matter how powerful or rich you were, the passing years would erode your accomplishments. Master Saito had been one of the world’s most powerful cultivators, and the truth about his final resting place had been all but lost in myths and legends until our quest had led us to his coffin. This little town had once been the seat of power for what some believed was a fearsome vampire king. Now, it looked like a Christmas gift shop. Time dulled even the sharpest blade.
I wondered how we’d fare when the history books got around to telling our tale. If they ever did.
Clem and Abi had stopped in the shadow of a small restaurant with
